3 9002 06447 1585

. .

£ >\ 1

1111 "

^3tg||fl!

! I

^fJA^X' *¦ Sf-.»

C\?>z oS5

'h

jm.

<£^<SA*^5

o

MEMORIAL

?§tm% and 3mm Wm&ut

PRINTED FOR THE FAMILY.
1870.

-&6&^CCL&Z

(f^^^^r^^y^^^^C^^*^^/

G!^CyC(/^'

o? ?ych^

MEMORIAL.

EWTS, son of Uriah Jr. and
Ruth (Rockwell) Benedict,
was born in Milton, Saratoga
County, N. Y., November 7,
1785. Another son was born
of the same parents, in 1793,
and died within three years
thereafter. The eldest born
remained practically an only
son, until after Uriah Jr.'s
second marriage with Phoebe
Marvin, in 1802, when, in 1810, his third son
and last child was born, Lewis being at the
time twenty-five years old.

The character of Uriah Benedict Jr. had so
much effect on that of his son, that a few words
concerning him seem to be required. In 1779,
when he was but fourteen years old, his name
appears on the pay-roll for some military ser
vice ; not unlikely the pursuit of Major Monroe,
who in the course of his raid on that district
had destroyed the growing crops on his father's
farm. He saw service again in 1781, when he
went on foot through the wilderness, some four
teen miles, in order to enlist. There is reason
to suppose that on these occasions be took coun
sel of his own will; he certainly did resist his
father's entreaties to quit the service. The ma
turity of the young Uriah was not what might
have been expected from a boyhood character
ized by such evidences of energy of spirit and
almost reckless independence of action . Perhaps
the quiet times which followed the turbulent
condition that prevailed during his minority, to
gether with the unexciting character of the pur
suits to which he then betook himself, affording
neither temptation nor opportunity for their ex
ercise, suffered the sterner qualities of his nature

to lapse for want of use. He grew to be one of
the most amiable and gentle of men, with tastes
befitting rural life, and among them a fondness
for the culture of flowers almost passionate. One
of the tenderest of husbands and fathers, he was
not less exemplary and useful as a citizen and
neighbor. His great natural capabilities for
business brought ample reward for his diligence
and enterprise; the "Four Corners," in Milton,
where he established himself, became a nucleus,
around which population and industry soon gath
ered and continued to increase.
Lewis Benedict received from nature a phy
sical organization of rare perfection and vigor.
In advanced life his presence was imposing.
The medallion now upon his tomb in the Albany
Cemetery, one of Palmer's happiest efforts in the
matter of resemblance, is regarded by strangers
to his person as a, copy of some fine antique,
rather than a singularly faithful likeness of the
man who lies buried beneath. His intellect was
after the fashion of the body it animated, robust,
masculine, and active even to restlessness. His
boyhood in some respects was a tolerable copy

of that of his father. The self-will and indepen
dence of conduct that marked the boy Uriah of
1779 and '81, were conspicuous in his son; but
the parallel can be traced no farther. At no
subsequent time of his life did his characteris
tics or deportment at all harmonize with those
of the meek and quiet citizen of the "Four
Corners," whose influences descended upon his
family and society around him, with the steadi
ness and gentleness of the dews of heaven.
From childhood to manhood, his life was spent
in ministering to the discursive and eccentric
curiosity of an inquisitive spirit, or in respond
ing to the impulses of a physical constitution
that eschewed repose. Action was the law of
his being and he obeyed it. He roamed the
woods or traversed the highways and bye ways
at will, his guns of the best and his horses of the
fleetest ; for the liberality, not to say weakness,
of his father, denied him nothing that he coveted.
Curious and questioning, he investigated and
analyzed the principles and processes of rural
economy and of business as they were then ac
cepted and applied, but he practiced them not ;

for neither trade nor agriculture could tempt
him to make either his pursuit. If he entered
the harvest field or the warehouse of his father, it
was because that, at the time, it chanced to be
the most agreeable thing; a more pleasing one
would at once cause him to forsake both. In
these unregulated courses, he gained much very
serviceable knowledge of the affairs of common
life, preserved his health and greatly increased
his bodily vigor; but he was also kept by them
a stranger to books and to habits of study.
Thus, though he accumulated a considerable fund
of useful knowledge and added to it daily, he
acquired neither science nor learning. His vi
vacity, quick perceptions and common sense
views of general affairs, aided by a mathema
tical faculty, a natural gift that made him equal
to abstruse calculations, so glossed his lack of ac
quirements that, both at home and in society,
he escaped such criticism or censure as might
have constrained him to turn his steps into the
paths of learning. The social position, ample
means and willing disposition of the parent fa
vored the chances of high education for this

child; but perversity entailing no penalty within
that mild jurisdiction, he ignored advantages
not common at the period, and turned a deaf
ear to his father's appeals to fit himself for col
lege. In this obliquity of a vigorous mind and
in his condition of only son, is to be found the
solution of a fact which perplexed many who
knew him, and which in view of his subsequent
opinions and action, is certainly a remarkable
one ; — that he received only the ordinary educa
tion of a country school of that day. His way
ward and apparently aimless life seemed less
ominous to his father, because it was free from
the slightest tendency toward any form of vice
or dissipation. All his exuberance of life and
spirits found vent in exercises which strength
ened his body and did not deprave his mind.
Neither did these things at all abate his filial
love and respect. Warm as was the affection
with which his father regarded him, it was re
ciprocated with equal fervor, and their relations
continued to be ofthe most cordial and endearing
character until they were terminated by death.
To the end of his life the son never ceased to
10

mourn this great error of his youth, or to warn
others against its commission. It made him in
tolerant in his own family toward the slightest
neglect of any means of instruction ; and proba
bly was the source of the extreme sympathy and
interest he always exhibited in the success of
schemes designed to promote education and dif
fuse knowledge.
When the time arrived at which, according to
the convictions of his own judgment, more serious
and methodical avocations could no longer be
postponed, his father proposed to him to take
part in his own well established business. But
familiar intercourse with so much of the world
as had been accessible to him had expanded his
ideas, and some consciousness of his own powers
assured him of success in plans upon a larger
scale. He declined his father's proposition, on
the ground that business in the country was too
monotonous, and the theatre too circumscribed,
to suit him. It will cause no surprise, after
what has been said, to be told, that the father
succumbed to the son's desire and removed his
business to Albany ; then second only to New
11

York, as an emporium of domestic trade. This
occurred in 1805.
In 1806, Lewis attained legal age, and was
admitted a partner in the firm of his father,
which thus became Marvin, Benedict & Co. In
1812, he married Susan, daughter of Spencer
and Dorothy (Hallenbake) Stafford. In 1813,
the firm of Marvin & Benedict was dissolved by
the death of Lewis's father. His matrimonial
connection was the means of introducing him
both to new partners and a new business. The
business of Marvin, Benedict & Co. had been in
West India goods and the produce ofthe country.
Spencer Stafford confined the dealings of his
house, mainly to iron and its manufactures ; but
was, himself, one of the pioneer manufacturers
of stoves and copper and tin ware, in Albany.
In 1815, Lewis became a partner in the firm of
his father-in-law, Staffords, Spencer & Co. The
hardware business proved especially agreeable
to him, and he never forsook it during his busi
ness life. His connection with his father-in-law,
in mercantile relations, ceased in 1825, and never
was renewed. Thenceforth, he was senior in all
12

his partnerships, and they were numerous.
Although he was, himself, always a resident of
Albany, he had partners and establishments
elsewhere, at various times, especially in Utica,
Rochester and New York. His activity, enter
prise and public spirit, soon placed him in the
front rank of the leading men of the city; and
every project designed to increase its business,
wealth, population or attractiveness, found in
him an energetic supporter. Having taken an
active part in establishing the Commercial Bank,
in 1826, he was appointed one of its first Board
of Directors, and he remained one so long as he
was in business. He was also a Director of the
Albany Insurance Company. About the same
time, he became greatly interested in promoting
steam navigation on the Hudson River, and was
stockholder and director in several associations
formed for that purpose. Directorship in his
view was something more than an honorary dis
tinction. It implied a trust, with duties all the
more binding, because the consequences of neglect
of them would fall on stockholders who had
trusted. His conscientiousness on this point
13

was the cause of infinite labor and tribulation
to himself. In 1833, the Utica and Schenec
tady Rail Road Company was incorporated and
he was named a corporator. He was also chosen
Director on the organization of the Company,
and was continued in the Board until 1847,
when he declined to serve longer. The construc
tion of this road was attended with difficulties
hardly to be imagined now. There was no pre
cedent for any thing ; a very few short lines of
rail road only having been built in the country
at that time. As a member of the Executive
Committee of the Board, he devoted days and
nights to the service of the corporation. The then
Engineer of Construction and, subsequently,
Superintendent for fifteen consecutive years, Mr.
William C. Young, writing, in 1862, of Mr. Ben
edict's connection with the enterprise, says: "His
influence was positive and effective in the organ
ization and management of the Utica and Sche
nectady Rail Road, and contributed to asuccessful
result in general and in detail ; and that inau
gurated a sj stem of economy and practicabilities
in the Rail Road system, which was the prevail-
14

ing one for the time." The Albany and West-
Stockbridge Rail Road received his support
from its inception, and he served it as a Director
for many years. He held the same relation to
the Saratoga and Schenectady Rail Road, and
took a leading part in its location, construction
and management. The public works of internal
improvement, especially the Canals, were objects
of much interest and solicitude to him. Ex-
Canal Commissioner Asa Whitney, says : " The
Canal System of the State was then (1839), oc
cupying a prominent place in the public mind,
particularly the Enlargement of the Erie Canal.
Mr. Benedict was among the most prominent
and efficient advocates of prosecuting the
Enlargement to completion. My connection
with the project as a Canal Commissioner,
brought me in contact with the prominent
men of the State who interested themselves
in the question ; and the opinions of none were
more respected or deferred to, than those of
Lewis Benedict."
In 1849 he was Chairman of a Board of Com
missioners charged with the duty of devising a
15

plan to supply the city with wholesome water
and made an elaborate report on the subject.
It might seem that most men would have
been unwilling to increase the sum of care and
labor such avocations and responsibilities cre
ated; still, there was another department in
which he wrought for no private purpose, with
such zeal and industry, that the wonder was how
he found time or spirit for anything else. His
contemporaries would not need to be told, that
this field of effort was Politics. He was not a
Democrat, it is believed, at any time of his life ;
certainly not in the false sense which has long
attached to the term. But, whatever may have
been his creed in early manhood, he had pro
fessed it with a moderation, that brought him
neither the notoriety nor the obloquy of extreme
partisanship, although he had been, somewhat
actively in favor of John Quincy Adams in
1824. It is probable that the first serious and
sustained effort he made to diffuse his own views
among his fellow citizens, was when the abduc
tion and alleged murder of William Morgan
by the Free Masons, in 1826, led to an agitation
Hi

of the public mind so violent as now hardly to
be realized, coincident with some favoring cir
cumstances in his own condition and relations.
With natural impulses toward kindness, reve
rence for law and order, and detestation of pri
vate vengeance, it was almost a matter of course
that he took the Anti-masonic side of the contro
versy. It happened at the same time, that
both business interests and family ties so iden
tified him with the then village of Rochester,
that he knew, and was known to its people, as
well as if he had been a constant resident. Of
many acquaintanceships he formed there, one
was with Thurlow Weed. In 1825, Mr. Weed
had represented the county of Monroe in the As
sembly, and naturally enough had had relations
with one so familiar with the interests of Ro
chester as Mr. Benedict, and who was concerned
in its material prosperity more deeply than
many of his immediate constituents. Each
seems to have perceived certain qualities in the
other which provoked mutual esteem, that
steadily increased as they came to know each
other better. It is clear, however, that the
17

strong points in the character of each were ap
prehended by the other, and that mutual respect
was mingled with personal regard. Mr. Bene
dict was impressed by the wonderful fertility
and power of Mr. Weed's mind ; and he at once
discerned and as promptly conceded, his singular
fitness to be a party leader. The affiliation of
two men so diverse in temperament, in habits, and
pursuits, that it seemed there could be nothing in
common between them, is a striking exemplifi
cation of the magnetic power of Mr. Weed's na
ture, which few desired, and fewer still were
able to resist. So, when, in 1830, he found Mr.
Weed again in the Assembly, a representative
of Anti-masonic feeling and interest, sympathiz
ing himself in the strong indignation excited by
the alleged violence done to personal liberty
and freedom of speech, he attached himself to
him and his projects, with the force and fidelity
that belonged to his character. It appearing
that there was no organ, at the seat of the State
Government, to give utterance to the sentiments
of that portion of the people who protested
against the further toleration of Free Masonry,

18

it was decided that one should be supplied.
The Albany Evening Journal was the fruit of
that decision. Of course, the projector and
Editor of the paper, and not unlikely some of his
friends, had aims quite above and beyond the
special occasion which appeared to have sug
gested its establishment ; but they were not put
forth with any distinctness, nor was any claim
to public regard and confidence based upon them.
In the fortunes of the new paper, and of Mr.
Weed, its editor, Mr. Benedict took a profound
interest. Mr Weed became a resident of Al
bany, and a personal and political association of
the most intimate and confidential character at
once began, and was continued daring the active
portion of Mr. Benedict's life.
In 1831, the then Seventh Senatorial District
had been discreet or fortunate enough to elect
a young lawyer of Auburn, William H. Seward,
one of its representatives; much to the vexa
tion of some otherwise intelligent men, who
found themselves unable to conceive of wisdom
or discretion befitting the position, dissociated
from hair less gray than their own. He was
19

young, and in appearance, even youthful. Mr.
Benedict enjoyed unusual conveniences for over
looking the progress of public business, and for
intercourse with such as were concerned in
transacting it. His own house adjoined the
Capitol, and then, and for years thereafter, he
dispensed a hospitality so generous, that the
sessions of the Legislature brought very few of
position or influence to its halls, officially or
otherwise, whom he did not meet socially under
his own roof. His interest in public affairs and
his relations to those which had a political bear
ing, led him habitually, to scan the course of
legislation in his peculiarly inquisitive way, so
that few knew better than himself what was
doing, why it was done, and by whom ; while
his genial nature and the social habits referred
to kept him so largely acquainted with the
membership of both houses, that it would have
been more difficult to avoid, than it was to ap
proach, individual members with whom he
might desire to confer. Some uncandid, not to
say envious criticism, from quarters he was ac
customed to respect, would have directed Mr.

Benedict's attention to the young Senator, if it
had not been already attracted by the skill and
dignity with which he repelled attack, and the
ability and spirit with which he maintained his
own views. The prudence of the Senator's pub
lic course and his unaffected equanimity under
circumstances that might have excused, if not
justified, some show of resentment, moved Mr.
Benedict to admiration ; and in the intimacies of
personal intercourse which soon followed, the
Senator revealed traits of character that greatly
commended him to Mr. Benedict's regard. His
position in the Senate was a trying one. He
stood nearly alone. His party was odious to its
opponents beyond all ordinary partisan dislike ;
it was, simply, hated. His assailants were
veterans in parliamentary warfare. From his
readiness and power in debate, his imperturbable
self-command, and his wisdom and shrewdness
in suggestion, Mr. Benedict formed hopes of his
eminence and usefulness, which, high as they
were, the future amply realized.
Mr. Weed's unerring sagacity had selected
Mr. Seward from among the young men of the
4 21

State, as best fitted to eliminate a faith from cer
tain elements, some existing and others only
foreseen, on which a political party might take
its stand; and which, with wise and timely modi
fication of its professions and under submission to
Mr. Weed's guidance, would be likely to achieve
supremacy among such a people as ours. Ac
count wasmadeof the ever-increasing proportions
of the body politic, the inevitable multiplication
and conflictof interests, the more general diffusion
of knowledge among the people, and their grow
ing consciousness of" certain inalienable rights,"
as sure to create constantly recurring necessities
for readjustment of policies and institutions to
new conditions. Reverence was graduated by
the merit rather than the age of things, and
limits were set to the worship of mere antiquity
however venerable ; and while nothing was dis
carded solely because it was old, nothing was
ignored merely because it was new. The spirit
ofthe times refused obedience to the rule so much
affected by Walpole and commended by his
American disciples, " not to disturb things which
are at rest ;" and the choice presented, in the

view of wise men conscious of its resistless power,
was either to move with it or stand still and be
crushed by its advance. This forbade the ste
reotyping of watchwords, means or methods, and
they were left within the pale of discretion ; but
constancy, eternal and unwavering, seeming
possible to an end that covered all the aspira
tions of patriotism and philanthropy, it was so
lemnly ordained. That end was : — the moral
and intellectual elevation, the complete enfran
chisement and the material prosperity of all the
people of the State and Country. A high degree
of practical wisdom and skillful statesmanship
only could be equal to a successful performance
of the necessary functions ; and the event proved
that a portion of the people, considerable enough
to constitute a powerful political party, did be
lieve that the requisite degree of both, inspired
the counsels that fell from the lips of Mr. Sew
ard, the columns ofthe Albany Evening Journal,
and later, from those of the New Yorlc Tribune,
and so accepted them.
To the aid of the party thus to be created,
organized and fostered, Mr. Benedict brought all

the capacity and influence he possessed. It
harmonized with his best judgment and gratified
a personal partiality to concur in Mr. Weed's
estimate of the genius and discretion of the pro
posed leader ; and it was always a pleasant
memory with him that, he perceived and trusted
early, where some hesitated long and doubted.
Regarding appeals to mere passion or prejudice
and flatteries of ignorance, as base in nature
and likely to be retributive in effect, his hope
of impressing the intelligent and virtuous per
manently, rested wholly on considerations ad
dressed to the human understanding and
conscience. Therefore, in order to enlighten
the one and arouse the other, he labored zeal
ously to establish the organ of the party, on an
enduring and commanding basis, and to elevate
its elect orator and statesman to positions of
influence and power. In all the essays of Mr.
Weed and himself to promote the growth of the
party they were much aided by a conviction, as
true as it was universal, that neither expected
the slightest personal profit from the party suc
cess. It was notorious that official station was

repugnant to the taste of both, and that more
than once it had been urgently tendered and
resolutely declined. In those years, Mr. Weed's
annual salary as editor would not have covered
his annual disbursements for the relief of party
necessities ; and Mr. Benedict, who worked in
cessantly and received nothing in any form,
was, nevertheless, a constant and liberal con
tributor to the party treasury.
It is profoundly suggestive to reflect that, at
the time the Albany Evening Journal was esta
blished, March, 1830, the controversy that
brought it into life and excited the people far
and wide nigh to frenzy was, whether Free Ma
sonry should be proscribed or not ? Not one
word, nor one thought seems to have been given
to another destined to be waged, mainly, by th e
same contestants and to dwarf or overwhelm all
others ; that, whether Human Slavery should be
protected or not ? So great an advance as has
been witnessed within the span of life that re
mains after middle age, ought to provoke new
faith in the tender mercies of God and in some
recondite virtue in Man ; and inspire hope, even

25

in the desponding, that the redress of many grie
vous and robust wrongs and the alleviation of
much misery is at hand. The Anti-masonic is
sue, however, was not ill fitted to educate the
people for the proper consideration of the graver
problem ; and it proved that tuition looking to
that end was sadly needed.
Anti-masonry in essence, was simply an effort
to resist and depose an authority, usurped by
such as were without natural, legal or constitu
tional right to exercise it. It would seem to be
the most natural of sequences, that the same
spirit that contended against Masonic oppression
should, instinctively, find itself opposed to every
form of that species of wrong ; but, in point of
fact, it proved to be a work of difficulty and re
quired much time and prodigious labor, to turn
the fire of its batteries against the stupendous
and all pervading tyranny of Slavery. At the
North, long continued false teaching on the part
of venal public men, not only in respect to the
legal and constitutional relations of Slavery, but
also in regard to the actual results of its work
ings on the Civilization of the South, and the

2<;

iteration and diffusion of their perversions both
of law and fact, by presses and demagogues
equally corrupt and false, had misled multi
tudes. Consciences naturally tender, and in all
other relations " void of offense," had been
hardened by pulpit expositions of an alleged sa-
credness of origin, and assurances that the most
j ust and merciful of all codes sanctioned the least
just and most cruel of all systems; and by ex
hortations from the same quarter men, them
selves free, were led to maintain and enforce its
usurpations. So much interest, passion, ignor
ance and indifference were arrayed on the side
of Slavery and manoeuvred with such skill, that
any speedy dislodgement of it seemed chimerical
to many who loathed it, and the few who then
hoped and believed otherwise only earned for
themselves the title of Fanatics ; although they
have since come into a peculiarly rich heritage
of fame. It is certain that the first appearance
of William Lloyd Garrison and his company of
Abolitionists evoked no applause from Mr. Bene
dict, although, as in the case of many other
leading Anti-masons, subsequently, his conver-
27

sion to Anti-slavery became radically complete.
If the cause of liberty and justice received some
of its most able and faithful adherents from the
"disbanded array of Anti-masonry, it was also
scandalized and betrayed by traitors and apos
tates from the same quarter, whose baseness and
treachery are without parallel in our history,
this side of Benedict Arnold and the epoch of
the Revolution.
It was not among the designs of Providence
that a movement, fraught with results to the
country and the world infinitely beyond any the
projectors of it conceived, should proceed far,
without the participation of one who seems to
have been created, especially, for its purposes.
How Mr. Weed and Mr. Benedict were drawn
to him, is naively told by Mr. Greeley himself,
in the celebrated " Seward, Weed and Greeley "
letter, thus : " I was a poor young printer and
Editor of a Literary Journal — a very active and
bitter Whig in a small way, but not seeking to
be known out of my own Ward Committee,
when, after the great political revulsion of 1837,
I was one day called to the City Hotel, where
28

two strangers introduced themselves as Thurlow
Weed and Lewis Benedict of Albany. They
told me that a cheap Campaign Paper of a pecu
liar stamp at Albany had been resolved on, and
that I had been selected to edit it." In the
same connection, Mr Greeley says ; " It was
work that made no figure and created no sensa
tion, but I loved it and did it well." The paper
in question was The Jeffersonian, established
by Mr. Benedict at his own risk, and as it
proved, at his own loss; but Mr. Greeley's cha
racterization of his share of the work is quite
too modest to be just. He made it one of the
most effective journals, for its purpose, that had
ever been printed ; and if he were not in the
front rank of political journalists before, he cer
tainly was, after Tlie Jeffersonian had deve
loped his vast capabilities for that department
ofthe profession. Mr. Greeley, himself writing
thirty years later, says : " The Jeffersonian was
a campaign paper, but after a fashion of its own.
It carefully eschewed abuse, scurrility and rail
ing accusations. Its editorials- were few, brief
and related to the topics of the day, rarely
5 29

evincing partisanship, never bitterness. *
* * * In short, it aimed to convince
and win by candor and moderation, rather than
overbear by passion and vehemence. *
* * I think its efficiency was somewhat
evidenced by the fact that, while the whigs were
beaten that Fall in Maine, in Pennsylvania, in
Ohio (which they had carried two years before),
and in nearly or quite every State westward
of Ohio, they were successful in the later elec
tion in New York, as the result of a desperate
struggle, and on an average vote largely beyond
precedent, William H. Seward ousting William
L. Marcy from the Governor's chair, and Luther
Bradish succeeding John Tracy as Lieutenant
Governor — each by more than ten thousand
majority." Mr. Benedict's admiration of Mr.
Greeley's intellectual ability and respect for his
moral worth increased steadily with his oppor
tunities for observing them, and were never
greater than in the latter years of his life.
Mr. Benedict was not spared the false charge
that the Civil War was precipitated by the party
he had done so much to sustain ; nor when his son
30

was a prisoner of war in the fearful hands ofthe
Confederates, the taunt, that but for the labors of
such as himself, that son might have been safe in
his father's house instead; but none of those
things moved him. Before the captivity of his
son was ended and while the strife ofthe Rebel
lion was raging, he died ; his latest and most
cherished belief being that, but for the education
furnished by " Seward, Weed and Greeley," the
people would not have attained to the degree of
intelligent and conscientious patriotism, of which
the Civil War was at once the evidence and the
measure. With his own share in that grand
course of discipline and instruction, which com
prised a generation in its term, and in its
graduates a nation, and with its momentous
consequences, he was happy and satisfied ; and
with serene unconcern he left to such as took
knowledge of it, the task, or the pleasure as it
might be, to define its limits or calculate its
value. Assuming nothing himself and claiming
nothing from others, fully equal to being re
membered or forgotten, he accepted, as a present
and adequate reward, the testimony of his own
31

conscience that, to the best of his ability, he had
put every talent committed to his charge to the
use of his fellow men, without respect to their
physical or moral differences, or to political or
geographical partitions of the common Earth.
If he was less than the equal of some of his
colleagues in essays, which required for their
due performance more thorough intellectual
training than he possessed, there were depart
ments in which few exceeded him either in
practical knowledge or experience. His legiti
mate business made him familiar with the prin
ciples and routine of foreign and domestic trade ;
for although a dealer in the products of his own
country, he was also a large importer of goods
manufactured abroad. His connection with
banks, whether as director or dealer, was inti
mate and extensive, both in city and country.
The Finances, particularly in relation to banks
and currency, both State and .National, were
chronically in a condition, that coerced political
parties to take ground in reference to them.
The revenue policy of the country was settled
rather by the ballot-box than by Congress, and

the Tariff question was seldom absent from the
elements of party strife. In relation to such
matters he was a competent adviser and his
counsels were received with respect. He had
much to do with suggesting and shaping the
most important legislation concerning Banks
and Currency, that was had while his party
was dominant in the State.
It would not consist with the limits or design
of this paper to recount, with even an approxi
mation to completeness, the multiform labors
Mr. Benedict performed, the sacrifices of busi
ness and money he offered, the anxieties and
trials he endured, through long years, in order
to advance the cause of good government and
universal freedom. To do that, it would require
a history of all the phases of faith that parties
exhibited, of all the changes in their relations
and management, and of all the vicissitudes of
fortune they encountered during his long politi
cal course ; as well as a narrative of his personal
experiences that, alone, would fill a volume.
It is enough to say, that in devising, nourishing
and expanding, the political organization, whose
33

course at times may have seemed erratic and its
aims shifting enough to render its identity ques
tionable ; only, however, in the view of such as
perceived not certain steady purposes, of which
the far-sighted statesmen who shaped its ends
never lost sight. Whatever the change, it was
never capricious or wanton, nor opposed to the
main design ofthe party or to the spirit ofthe age.
It is curious as a fact and not less fortunate as
a coincidence, that the same lines which divided
the People on questions of political economy,
also separated them in respect to those which
concerned the rights and liberties of the citizen.
Hence, the Liberal party comprised the same
body that made up the party of Protection to
American Labor; and the Pro-slavery party,
after the invention of the Cotton Gin by Whit
ney, was always the party of Free Trade. Its
cohesion, therefore, was maintained without
fracture under mutations of policy, and even of
name ; because they were not merely justified,
but rather compelled, by the crumbling of ideas
and systems which prescription alone had sus
tained but could no longer uphold, by the pres-
34

sure of new wants, by the irresistible impulses
of expanding thought and the ameliorations of
christian civilization . The charge of inconstancy
to names or twilight professions was pointless
against a strong consciousness of progress toward
its ultimate purpose ; and both the homogene-
ousness of the party and the near accord between
it and its counsellors were finally vindicated, by
the unbroken front and undivided counsels it
opposed to disunion and treason. It dispersed
all doubts and disclosed its true mission, perhaps
not its last, in the sublime manifestations of
force and patience, of love of liberty and love
of country, made by the Republican party of the
Civil War.
Darker days than the Liberal party saw in
the course of its protracted struggle never
dawned upon country; still, neither the
hope nor the spirit of its leaders ever flagged,
nor did their followers cease to trust in them.
The day is past when any may contemn the
wisdom, doubt the patriotism or deny the ser
vices, of that illustrious triumvirate, "Seward,
Weed and Greeley," and escape the imputation
35

that themselves are neither wise, patriotic
nor truthful. If the genius and capacity for
thought and labor they displayed early in
their career, filled their friends with delight
and hope, their cotemporaries of all other
shades of belief beheld their essays with
wonder; and none more, than some who ar
raigned their principles and policy with much
bitterness of spirit. The lofty courage and
steady perseverance with which they pursued
beneficent ends, kept hope alive for years in
hearts that, but for such encouragement, would
have failed altogether. And now, in view of
benefits already harvested and of those the
future promises, so largely the fruits of their
culture, who shall say that they have not made
us, our posterity and all mankind, forever their
debtors ?
Of the little company who shared in the
councils of which this party was born, who
framed its issues, organized its forces, planned
its campaigns and then fought them, who mode
rated its triumphs and retrieved its defeats, by
all of which its growth was- first protected and
36

then assured, next to those eminent men, who
comes, if not Lewis Benedict, with his fertile
brain, his tireless and gratuitous industry, his
invincible courage ?
The hand of affection attempting a sketch of
a friend, is apt to find that it has accomplished
merely a eulogy ; and in such circumstances, it
is assuring in a high degree to be able to test,
and if need be, to correct friendly exaggeration,
by cool estimates from independent sources.
Three of Mr. Benedict's co-laborers, fitted by
long and intimate association to speak of his quali
ties, and from their position best acquainted
with the nature and extent of his services,
while,, by wisdom and great political experience,
they were also best able of all men to compute
the value of them, have recorded their opinions
of him and his works. On an occasion which
made it proper for Mr. Weed to speak in this
behalf, he said: "In the darkest days of Jack-
sonism and Van Burenism, when the ' Albany
Regency' wielded with an iron despotism the
power of the General State and City Govern
ments, Mr. Benedict was foremost, in services
37

and sacrifices, among the few who upheld the
Whig Banner. As Chairman ofthe Whig State
Committee, for six memorable years, he was the
political engineer who organized and guided the
Whig phalanx. To him there were no terrors
in defeat. Beaten in one campaign, he imme
diately set about a reorganization for another.
In 1837 he established The Jeffersonian, a
paper which contributed largely to the successes
which followed. In the great Presidential con
flict of 1840, Mr. Benedict abandoning his own
business, gave himself up to the Whig party.
Every county in the State was thoroughly or
ganized. For two years preceding that election,
Mr. Benedict's time, thoughts and energies were
given wholly to his duties as Chairman of the
State Committee. In 1844 Mr. Benedict was
again acting in the field. Until the latter part
of August of that year, none doubted our suc
cess in this State. Circumstances, however,
which need not be referred to now, created ap
prehensions. Mr. Benedict sent intelligent
Whigs through the Northern and South West
ern counties; and after opening an extensive
38

correspondence with the Whig County Commit
tees, went West himself. The result of his in
quiries proved that our State was in danger.
An estimate, based upon information thus ob
tained, gave our opponents a majority. This
information was communicated to our leading
friends, in September, accompanied with sugges
tions which it was believed would save the
State. Those, however, who subsequently
abused us for losing the State, insisted that there
was no danger. Again early in October,
Mr. Benedict renewed his warnings, and urged
immediate and efficient action. Mr. Clay was
then our Candidate for President and Mr. Fill
more for Governor. Mr. Benedict, foreseeing
their danger, marked out a plan which promised
to save both ; but strange as it may seem, Mr.
Benedict was thwarted in his efforts to save the
State by the advice of a gentleman whom Mr.
Fillmore has recently appointed a Foreign
Minister. We impugn not the motives of that
Gentleman. The fatal error was in his judg
ment. Believing, as he and another gentleman
then present did believe, that the State was
39

abundantly safe without the effort suggested by
Mr. Benedict, their counsels prevailed, and all was
lost." [Albany Evening Journal, Oct. 5, 1850).
Gov. Seward addressing him, in 1843, wrote :
" I owe a debt of everlasting gratitude to Weed,
which I shall never repudiate. And to you I
am sensible I am scarcely less indebted. With
all his talent, his wisdom, his sagacity and his
virtues, there would have been no successful
Whig party without your energetic and indo
mitable efforts; and but for your generosity
towards me, I should have been a stranger to all
benefits of the party success. These obligations
I have always held in more cherishing remem
brance, because I knew that your motives were
free from selfishness and every kind of interest.
I should have no satisfaction in remembering
the favors thus lavished upon me, if I had not
the consciousness of having endeavored to ele
vate the Administration to the standard of its
wisest and most disinterested friends."
Mr. Greeley says : " When I first met Lewis
Benedict (in 1837) he was more than fifty years
old. Directness, shrewdness, quickness of ob-
40

servation and inflexible decision, were his lead
ing characteristics. He was eminently and em
phatically a man of business. He used no more
words than were necessary, and having formed
and expressed his opinion was not easily moved
to reconsider the matter. His interest in pub
lic affairs was profound and eager ; but he had
no desire to be conspicuous even in movements
which he inspired and directed. He had no
dream of ever holding office, no wish to be
known as a wielder of authority or power. He
sought success through the diffusion of intelli
gence, the enlightenment of the masses. For
the. arts of the demagogue he had a profound
contempt; for the villainies of the ballot box
stuffer, the miscounter of votes fairly cast, he
cherished an intense and righteous detestation.
Others were more widely known and enjoyed a
far greater popularity ; but of the men whose
incessant exertions and sacrifices contributed to
wrest our State from democratic control through
the protracted, arduous struggle of 1837-40,
hardly one labored more efficiently than Lewis
Benedict."

41

In domestic and social relations Mr. Benedict
revealed softnesses and sympathies, which a
somewhat brusque manner and a certain posi-
tiveness in statement, quite common with him,
gave no token that he possessed. Such as met
him only in the struggles and competitions of
ordinary life and business, might have pro
nounced him too intolerant of errors or differ
ences of opinion, and too dogmatic, to be either
genial in nature or charitable in spirit ; but all
who knew him in his private ways would have
dissented from such a conclusion. His high re
spect for science and learning and his desire to
promote their diffusion have been already hinted
at ; but it is due to his memory to state, that,
although he was not formally a member of any
church, his view of agencies suitable to the end
he desired was comprehensive enough to include
every means of instruction devised by religious
thoughtfulness. Thus while he was generously
aiding and patronizing secular institutions and
schemes, both by money and influence, he was
habitually and for conscience sake, a contributor
to the support of every enterprise that promised
42

to increase the knowledge and elevate the morals
of the youth of the country. The poor whether
of the church or the street, were always objects
of his regard; and during many years it was his
custom to consider their wants in connection
with those of his own household, and provide
for both. The chief trouble these benefactions
cost him was to hide the knowledge of them
from all but the beneficiaries themselves. His
practical concern with public questions and party
management made him acquainted with men of
parallel pursuits and position of every kind of
political belief; and it was one of his pleasures
to assemble in his own house guests so opposed
in sentiment to himself, and sometimes to each
other, that . any host might have hesitated to
bring them together ; as if to demonstrate how
rigorously he excluded from the sacred retreats
of private life, the asperities and antagonisms
in which none indulged more freely than him
self outside of those inclosures. These gene
rous and hospitable modes characterized his
domestic and social life during his long career
as merchant and politician. When advanced

years set for him the lesson they spare no man
of like standing and pursuits, such was the
modesty of his nature that he accepted and
learned it, in the absence of all self-conscious
ness that age had impaired his discretion. And
when the new generation came seeking its
rightful place on the stage of human action, he
welcomed and made way for it with alacrity ;
retiring himself with dignity and composure
that had their origin and support in a convic
tion, that he had so acted an important part,
that it would not become him to claim exemp
tion from a remorseless rule, or expose himself
to suspicion, even at the hands ofthe thoughtless
or unjust, that he inclined to "lag superfluous
on the stage." His numerous family, a large
circle of relatives and some attached friends,
preserved cheerfulness in his house ; and an ac
cumulation of unsettled affairs, the legacy of
forty years of active mercantile business, gave
employment to all the time he was willing to
spare from the contemplation of public affairs
and scrutiny of the action of public men. In
his latter years, though at times annoyed by the
44

approaches of the malady that finally caused his
death, he was seldom confined to his house, and
his habits, both of mind and body, continued to
be active until his mortal sickness supervened.
On the fourteenth of January, 1862, his house
was the scene of one of those festivities, occasions
for which, if not altogether rare, are at least not
common. It was the fiftieth anniversary of his
marriage and he commemorated it by a Golden
Wedding. The occurrence was one of great
interest in his family and among his friends, and
called forth many evidences of joy and respect.
The unusual degree of health and vigor ex
hibited by the venerable couple was a theme of
remark and congratulation among their guests.
Especially noticeable was it that, a benignant
Providence had led the husband to the age of
seventy-seven and the wife to that of seventy-
one, sparing both not only the infirmity of body
common to that stage of life, but even the slight
est premonitory symptom of the atrophy of mind
which so often enervates the blessing of " length
of days." Be/ond some blanching of the hair
and some furrowing of the cheek, the accepted
7 45

signs of old age were altogether wanting. The
burden of years had bowed neither, nor did
speech or manner foreshadow the near approach
of decrepitude or decay ; but erect in figure and
vivacious in spirit, they received their friends
as they might have done forty years earlier.
Notwithstanding the expectation of life, reason
ably justified by his high physical and mental
condition on that evening, in six months there
after, Lewis Benedict had no existence, save in
memory. He died July 15, 1862.
His wife survived him more than seven years,
dying December 30, 1869, in her seventy-ninth
year. This prolongation of life appeared to be
due partly to physical causes, but largely to
moral ones. Her assiduous personal perform
ance of the functions of housekeeping, to which,
both taste and habit inclined her, involved so
much bodily exercise that she preserved her
health under a degree of seclusion in her own
house, that would seem not to favor such a re
sult. When this class of duties was discharged
her immediate and constant recourse was to
reading ; and thus stagnation of mind was pre-
40

eluded. Sorrow for the dead, love for the liv
ing, the obligations of good neighborhood and
the practice of religious services and duties,
kept her moral sensibilities animate and tender.
A course of life better adapted to foster physical
health and strength, and to develop the most
amiable and useful qualities of our common
nature, could hardly have been devised.
Without the slightest consciousness that it
could be well indicated by so technical a name,
she really exemplified by her " walk and con
versation " a well digested system of philosophy ;
one that proved adequate to sustain and comfort
her under all the trials of a life, which if rich in
prosperity for the most part, was by no means free
from adversity. The doctrine of Chance found
no refuge within her system. Design reigned
over it without a rival. Life, in her view, was
void of accidents ; its joys and its sorrows were
at once referred to the volition of a will di
rected by an intelligence higher than her own,
and tempered by a kindness even tenderer than
her own. Every dispensation of Providence,
whether it caused her heart to leap for joy or
47

overflow with grief, was accepted as a manifest
ation of administrative wisdom beyond her com
prehension, or of a love whose depths she could
not fathom ; and her vocation was, either to
rejoice with reverence, or mourn " not as those
without hope." The death of her husband, the
most poignant of her distresses, she bore with
anguish justified by her love for the lost and
that showed the thoroughness of her humanity ;
and yet with faith and patience that demon
strated the energy of her trust in the wisdom
and mercy which guided the hand that smote
her. During her long Christian course, and at
the time of her death she was, with a single ex
ception, the most aged member of her church,
she was exemplary in discharging the duties
that belonged to her profession, and careful not
to omit such as were due to those not " of the
household of faith." It was a beautiful testi
mony to the equitable character of her convic
tions, that in her scheme of Christian duty the
claims of both God and Man were regarded;
and she felt that she had no more right to
withhold from "Csesar the things that are
48

Cassar's," than from " God, the things that are
God's." She respected the image of her Maker
wherever it had pleased him to impress it, and
she recognized His temple in every human being
no matter with what hue the Creator might have
colored his work. The generous and catholic
spirit that glowed in her husband greatly added
to her facilities to meet the calls of duty and con
science; for she but pleased him while she re
freshed her own soul, by devoting his substance
liberally but discreetly, to the spreading of gos
pel truth, the diffusion of Christian morals and
the alleviation of human want and suffering.
The way she most affected, however, was,
according to her sensitive and retiring nature,
" along the cool sequestered vale of life ; " for,
as has been intimated, general society had but
few charms for her, although her own house
had been one of its constant resorts. Her tastes
were strongly domestic and her habits conformed
to them to the uttermost degree her social
duties and position would permit. Her most
winning appearance, perhaps, was in the place
she most coveted ; — at her own fireside. There,
49

surrounded by her family and encouraged by
such attention as proceeds from love and respect,
from her quiet seat, she dispensed the treasures
of memory and the fruits of reflection ; inter
spersed with counsels that were timely and
justified by her experience of life. Familiar as
she was with the family histories of the circle
which composed the society of her early days,
she had no remembrances for the passages which
the dictates of a kind heart and regard for social
peace, suggested were better forgotten than re
called; and of all her inculcations none were
more frequent or earnest, or better enforced
by her own practice, than such as commended
forbearance and charity in speech. Among the
most fixed of her customs was, after the even
ing lamp had been lighted, to give her attention
to the daily journals. From girlhood she had
been accustomed to read aloud, first for her
father, then for her husband ; and having be
come accomplished in the art she continued to
use it for the pleasure and advantage of her
family. By these means she appropriated as
much as she imparted ; and it followed by the
50

aid of a retentive memory, that she kept herself
informed as to public affairs and matters of
general interest, and she seldom withheld such
speculations as their nature and condition sug
gested. When the Civil War broke out, and her son
was in the Union army, her diligence in glean
ing both fact and doctrine from the newspapers
was quickened ; and she analysed them with
the best powers of her mind and conscience, to the
obvious increase of her moral force and capacity.
Few statesmen comprehended the causes or conse
quences of the war, few military men, its events,
more accurately than she did. Her impromptu
criticisms of men and measures often surprised
her auditors by their depth and shrewdness ;
and not seldom were the faith and courage of
others renewed and fortified by her interpreta
tion of the same handwriting that had filled
them with terror. The New York Tribune and
the fndependent became as necessary to her as
her daily bread ; and gathering inspiration from
their stirring appeals, she rendered to others
their patriotic exhortations, with a fervency and
51

impressiveness that seemed to inspire them anew.
When a Confederate volley sent her son to
death, in the battle of Pleasant Hill, and shat
tered her own heart, she mourned indeed like
bereaved Rachel of old ; but neither the cloud
of the battle, nor the mists of her own grief,
were dense enough to hide from her eyes cer
tain compensations inhering in the justness and
holiness of the cause for which he died, and in
the wealth of the harvest yet to be reaped by
mankind from that sowing of blood ; nor did
she cease to uphold the national cause, by act,
by speech and by prayer, as if her heart had not
been wrung. No disloyal utterance escaped
her rebuke, no disloyal citizen, her contempt,
while the war lasted; and one of the most
grievous of her spiritual trials was, perhaps,
after the war, when she strove to forgive those
who, in her judgment, had been false to God, to
Man and to their Country. In other days, a
less degree of self-sacrificing and earnest love of
humanity, of liberty and of country, than she
exhibited, has rescued the name of more than one
woman from oblivion; but the times will be
52

evil indeed when such an exemplar of those vir
tues, as Susan Benedict, shall fail to receive the
respect and gratitude of the loyal and humane
to whom these presents may come.
Such traits as might have been looked for,
from the mixed nature of the parentage of Mrs.
Benedict and her training, appeared in her with
more than ordinary distinctness. The qualities
of order and neatness, proverbially important
constituents of Dutch character, she inherited
from a Mother of that race and in abundant
measure ; while her education and culture,
after the New England pattern, developed
moral characteristics and mental habitudes that
might have contented a Puritan. The latter
was the work of her Father, a New England
man ; and of course, such proclivities were not
checked by her marriage to a Husband of like
origin. In the earlier portion of her married life, while
family cares and household duties left her few
waking hours for other pursuits, opportunity to
gratify her taste for reading and reflection was
somewhat limited; but, after the maturity of
» 53

her children, and still more after the death of
her husband and son, she remitted to others
many ofthe cares which theretofore had been her
own, and devoted much time to reading and
meditation. Every day brought some contribu
tion to her fund of knowledge, or revealed some
access of capability to turn her acquisitions to
account. Her views of affairs, whether public
or private, became broader and clearer, her ob
servations more acute, her counsels wiser; and
while a general and increasing elevation was
discernible throughout her deportment, her
tone and manner appreciably softened. .She
grew meeker in spirit as she waxed stronger in
mind, was more placable than ever though
always prone to forgive, more charitable toward
dissent, though never intolerant; and contrary
to common experience, in her last illness, exer
cised powers both of memory and of judgment
with a force and precision not equalled in all
her previous life. With entire submissiveness
to the divine will and self-possession not less
complete, yet in a frame of mind as far removed
from presumption or indifference as it was from
54

fear, and by the light of That Countenance
which her last prayer supplicated might shine
upon her, she met and conquered her last and
only enemy Death, taking from him his sting
and from the Grave its victory by the omnipo
tent influences of Christian Faith and Hope ; a
demonstration all the more conclusive, because
it would seem that a Greater than either had
constrained both Age and Disease to respect her
moral and intellectual faculties ; that, with them
in their best estate, she might show the suffi
ciency of the Grace of God for the needs of that
supreme hour, which, better than the longest
life, proves the insufficiency of the mightiest of
the props and stays that the Art of Man can
provide from the resources of this world.

55

¦ ¦¦'¦, .:¦¦ .

WSSm

-:.>¦',?