CHAPTER XXV. INTRIGUES AND INTRIGUERS.
General Grant, when elected President of the United States, had endeavored to elevate his views beyond the narrow sphere of party influences, and had consolidated in his own mind a scheme of policy which he had before shadowed out for the complete reconstruction of the Union, and for the reform of abuses which had crept into the Federal Government during the war. The qualities which insured his success as a soldier had not enabled him to succeed as a statesman, but he displayed the same fortitude under apparent disaster and courage at unexpected crises when he found himself again passing "the wilderness," darkened, not with the smoke of battle, but with detraction and denunciation. Again, in the old spirit he exclaimed, "I will fight it out on this line if it takes all summer."
The opposition to General Grant's re-election was hydra-headed, and no less than seven candidates were in the field against him. The contest of 1824 had been called "the scrub-race for the Presidency," and to that of 1872 was given the name of "Go as you please." The watchword of the factions was "Anything to beat Grant;" their points of union were the greed of office and the thirst for revenge.
The only serious opposition to General Grant was that of the combined Liberal Republican and Democratic parties, which nominated as their candidate Horace Greeley. It was deeply to be regretted that political ambition tempted the only equal of "Benjamin Franklin, journeyman printer," to become a politician. Better informed than any other man on American politics, courageous, free from small vices, and the embodiment of common sense and justice, with a kind and charitable heart, he was a man of the people and for the people. He was made supremely ridiculous by Nast's caricatures, and by his own record as collated from the files of the great newspaper which he had founded and continued to edit.
Mr. Greeley, after his double nomination at Cincinnati and at Baltimore, showed that he was not content with being a "good printer, a respectable publisher, and an honest editor," which he had previously avowed was the height of his ambition. The unnatural political alliance with those whom he had denounced for a quarter of a century led him into all sorts of inconsistencies and contradictions, and displayed his insatiable thirst for public office. All the sympathies of the Democratic party had been his antipathies, all their hates his loves, and many of their leaders spoke of him publicly with contempt. Indeed, his campaign would have been a farce had not his untimely death made it a tragedy. Ridicule killed him politically, and his political failure was the immediate cause of his sad physical death.
Senator Sumner, endeavoring with the aid of Senator Schurz to connect General Grant or some of the officers near him with the French "arms scandal," prepared with great care, and read in the Senate on the 31st of May, 1872, a fierce philippic against the President. Ancient and modern history had been ransacked for precedents, which were quoted and then applied to General Grant, to show his unworthiness, his incompetency, his nepotism, and his ambition. The long tirade was an erudite exhibition of most intense partisanship, having as a motto from Shakespeare, "We will have rings and things and fine array." A few weeks later Mr. Sumner sailed for Europe, and did not return until after the election.
At the Republican National Convention, which was held at Philadelphia, on Wednesday, the 5th of June, 1872, General Grant was renominated by acclamation as President and Henry Wilson as Vice-President. The defeat of Mr. Colfax for renomination was attributable to the bitter hostility of some of the Washington newspaper correspondents, and to the free use of money among the delegates from the Southern States, under the pretense that it was to be used for the establishment of newspapers and for campaign expenses. Mr. Wilson had sent from Washington all the money that he could raise, and he had been liberally aided by Mr. Buffington, of Massachusetts.
Mr. Colfax was badly served by his own immediate friends and advocates. The Indiana delegation were at first quite immoderate in their mode of demanding their favorite statesman's renomination. One gentleman, himself an editor, was especially bitter at the activity of Mr. Wilson's newspaper friends, and declared he would mark them all in his paper. Such declarations made what begun in good feeling toward Mr. Wilson, and a considerable share of a fun- loving spirit, a strong and determined contest. Then in the New York and other delegations there were gentlemen who represented large employing and moneyed interests, as Mr. Orton, of the Western Union Telegraph Company, Mr. Shoemaker, of Adams Express, and Mr. Franchot, familiarly known as "Goat Island Dick," the principal attorney of the California Central Pacific for legislative favors from Congress. These and other gentlemen identified with great corporate interests were at first even bitterly hostile to Mr. Wilson's candidacy, and to the last urged that of Mr. Colfax. There was considerable fun in the conflict, which was, in the main, conducted with good-nature on both sides. Mr. Colfax was by no means without newspaper friends. Mr. Bowles, though a Greeley man, did him quiet but continuous service. Messrs. Jones and Jennings, of the New York Times, were present, and were understood to have exerted themselves for the Vice-President's renomination. Mr. Holloway, of the Indianapolis Journal, was very active. Colonel Forney pronounced for Mr. Colfax through the Press, though his son, the managing editor, shared in the good feeling of the Washington correspondents toward the Senator.
The campaign was a very earnest one, and every citizen had to listen to campaign speeches, attend ward meetings and conventions, subscribe for the expenses of torchlight processions, if he did not march therein, and thus fortify his intellect and strengthen his conscience for the quadrennial tilt with his friends over the relative merits of candidates and the proper elucidation of issues involved. For the first time civil-service reform was advocated by the Republicans, in accordance with the recommendations of General Grant in his message, and was opposed by those who (to paraphrase Brinsley Sheridan) believed that "there is no more conscience in politics than in gallantry."
When Congress met in December, 1872, General Grant made the gratifying announcement that the differences between the United States and Great Britain had been settled by the tribunal of arbitration, which had met at Geneva, in a manner entirely satisfactory to the Government of the United States. He also congratulated the country on the coming Centennial celebration at Philadelphia, the completion of the ninth census, the successful working of the Bureau of Education, the operations of the Department of Agriculture, and the civil-service reform which Congress had been so reluctant to consider.
The New Year's reception at the commencement of 1873 was a crowded affair. Mrs. Grant wore a dress of pearl-gray silk, flounced and trimmed with silk of a darker hue and with point lace. Mrs. Fish wore an elaborately trimmed dress of Nile-green silk, and was accompanied by her young daughter, in blue silk. Mrs. Boutwell wore a black velvet dress trimmed with white lace, and her daughter a pale-blue silk dress trimmed with black lace, and Mrs. Attorney- General Williams wore a dress of Nile-green silk, trimmed with Valenciennes lace. Lady Thornton wore a dress of royal purple velvet, elegantly trimmed, and the bride of the Minister from Ecuador wore a dress of sage-green silk, with a sleeveless velvet jacket, and a velvet hat of the same shade.
The army, the navy, the Diplomatic Corps, and the judiciary were out in full force. There were nice people, questionable people, and people who were not nice at all in the crowd. Every state, every age, every social class, both sexes, and all human colors were represented. There were wealthy bankers, and a poor, blind, black beggar led by a boy; men in broadcloth and men in homespun; men with beards and men without beards; members of the press and of the lobby; contractors and claim agents; office-holders and office-seekers; there were ladies from Paris in elegant attire, and ladies from the interior in calico; ladies whose cheeks were tinged with rouge, and others whose faces were weather-bronzed by out-door work; ladies as lovely as Eve, and others as naughty as Mary Magdalene; ladies in diamonds, and others in dollar jewelry; chambermaids elbowed countesses, and all enjoyed themselves. After the official reception at the White House the Secretaries and other dignitaries hurried to their respective homes, there in their turn to receive visits. The foreign diplomats did not receive, but with the army and navy men and the citizens "generally" went "the grand rounds." The older citizens had hospitable spreads, including hot canvas-back ducks, terrapin, and well-filled punch-bowls, and veteran callers got in the work as ususal, but at most houses intoxicating drinks were dispensed with, and there were no such exhibitions of drunkenness as had disgraced former years.
Senator Sumner, who had left the Presidential contest and gone to Europe returned to his Senatorial duties and "accepted the situation." Early in the session he introduced a bill prohibiting the future publication of names of Union victories in the Army Register or their inscription on the regimental colors of the army. This step toward an oblivion of past difficulties was highly acceptable to General Grant, who conveyed to Mr. Sumner his appreciation of the olive branch thus extended. Others were not disposed to regard his movement with a friendly eye, and the Legislature of Massachusetts passed a resolution censuring him.
Mr. Sumner survived a few months only, when, after a very brief illness, he died at his house in Washington. When he was gone, men of all political parties joined heartily in eulogizing the deceased statesman. A mourning nation paid homage to his pure heart, to his sense of duty and right, to his courageous willingness to bear obloquy, to his unwearied industry—in short, to that rare union of qualities which impart such grandeur to his memory. Even the jealousies and schemes of the living were restrained, as the second-rate heroes of ancient days postponed their contest for the armor of Achilles until last honors had been paid to the memory of the illustrious departed. In Doric Hall in the State House at Boston his remains finally lay in state amid a lavish display of floral tokens, which were sent from all classes and localities, Massachusetts thus emphatically indorsing her son, whom she had so lately censured.
Senator Sumner left behind him a few printed copies of a speech which he had prepared for delivery in the Senate before the then recent Presidential election, each copy inscribed in his own handwriting, "private and confidential." He had written it when inspired with the belief that with the Administration he was a proscribed man; but his friends convinced him that it would not be best for him to throw down this gauntlet of defiance. He had, therefore, decided not to make public the indictment which he had prepared, and the few copies of it which had been given to friends was not, as was asserted, the report of a "posthumous speech." Its publication after his death by those to whom copies had been intrusted in confidence was an unpardonable breach of trust.
The great Massachusetts Senator had for years stood before the country with a strong individuality which had separated him from the machine politicians, and placed him among the statesmen of the Republic. Before the roll of the Northern drums was heard in the South, he had defiantly denounced the slave-holders in the Capitol, and when the thunder of artillery drowned the voice of oratory, he earnestly labored to have the war overthrow and eradicate slavery. Just as his hopes were realized, and as he was battling for civil rights for the enfranchised race, his life, for which his friends anticipated a long twilight, was unexpectedly brought to a close. Yet there is something so melancholy in the slow decline of great mental powers, that those who loved him the best felt a sort of relief that he had suddenly thrown off his load of domestic sorrow and passed across the dark stream into the unknown land while still in the possession of his energies.
[Facsimile]
Yours truly
H. Wilson
HENRY WILSON, born at Framington, N. H., February 16th, 1812; member
Massachusetts House of Representatives, 1840, and served four years
in the State Senate, being twice its presiding officer; United
States Senator, 1855-1871; Vice-President, March 4th, 1873 - November
22d, 1875, when he died.