CHAPTER VIII NOTABLES IN THE THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS 1864 to 1870
I had a very active campaign for election to Congress in 1864. As I have stated elsewhere, I had, while Speaker, so framed the district that I thought it would surely be a Republican one; but very much to my surprise, it went Democratic when Mr. Swett was a candidate. For a number of reasons I was more than anxious to carry the district. First, naturally I did not want to be defeated; second, I wanted to show that it was really a Republican district, and more especially still on President Lincoln's account, I was solicitous that a Republican should be elected from the President's own district, as was President Lincoln also. The National Committee assisted a good deal, and the President himself helped whenever there was an opportunity. I was elected by a good, safe majority, and entered the Thirty-ninth Congress in December, 1865.
The Illinois delegation in the Thirty-ninth Congress, when I entered the House, while containing few members, still compared favorably with other delegations, and consisted of very good men who reflected credit on the State, and some of whom had far more than ordinary ability. General John A. Logan, of whom I have written in another part of these memoirs, was a very prominent member of the delegation and of the House. E. B. Washburne was also a leading member. He was very influential, and at one time was in a sense the leader of the House. He early became prominent as one of the intimate friends and supporters of General Grant, who, every one supposed, would be the nominee of the Republican party to succeed President Johnson. Thaddeus Stevens was the real leader on every occasion when he chose to assume that position. His whole interest, however, seemed to be concentrated on reconstruction, one of the greatest problems that has ever confronted this country, and consequently he gave little attention to general legislation. This gave Washburne quite a commanding voice in shaping the general legislation of the House.
John Wentworth was one of the best known citizens of Chicago of his day, and was closely identified with the early history of the city. He was several times a member of the House. I found him to be a capable member of the Thirty-ninth Congress, a man of influence, and I liked him very much. He was Mayor of Chicago when President Lincoln was assassinated, and I recall that he was at the station at the head of the committee when the funeral train arrived in Chicago. John Wentworth was quite a character in our State politics, but he was particularly noted as being one of the foremost citizens of his home city.
Burton C. Cook, of Ottawa, was one of the ablest men in the Illinois delegation. He was a splendid man, a man of high character, one of the leaders of the bar of the State of Illinois, and retired from Congress to become general counsel of the Northwestern Railroad. He occupied a very important place in the House, and was chairman of the Committee on the District of Columbia. He could not endure ridicule, and he was not particularly quick in argument, although a very good debater.
A rather humorous incident occurred on one occasion when he was pushing a bill to have Pennsylvania Avenue paved. Proctor Knott, from Kentucky, was then a member of the House, and one of its cleverest and wittiest speakers. I was called to the chair because Cook knew that I would take care of him the best I could in the conduct of the bill through the committee of the whole. We got along with the bill very well for a good part of the day, until Knott took the floor and made one of his incomparably funny speeches, depicting the situation on Pennsylvania Avenue, with its fine carriages and outfits, with buckles on the coachmen's hats as big as garden gates. He made so much fun of the bill that Cook, being unable to stand it, moved that the committee rise. We never heard of the bill afterwards.
S. S. Marshall, a Democrat from Southern Illinois, and prominent as such, was a member of Congress for many terms, and at one time was the leader of the minority in the House. At that time the Democrats in the House were so few in number that occasionally they were unable to secure the ayes and noes. They exercised very little influence on legislation, and were not much in evidence in debate, the main contest then being between the radical and conservative elements of the Republican party over Reconstruction.
General John F. Farnsworth of St. Charles was quite influential as a member, and a very strong man, but was particularly noted for his dauntless courage. On one occasion I saw him shake his fist in General Benjamin F. Butler's face, daring him to resent it. Butler did not resent it, as the House was in session; and, any way, excepting with his tongue, Butler was not a fighting man.
Ebon C. Ingersoll, who was familiarly called by his friends Clark Ingersoll, served in that Congress. He was a very clever man, possessed of considerable talent, and could on occasions deliver a capitally witty speech. I remember a rather ingenious passage from one of his speeches delivered when the controversy between the President and Congress was at its height. He asserted that the country was sorely afflicted; that it suffered all sorts of troubles, trials, embarrassments and difficulties. First, he said, it was afflicted with cholera, next with trichinae, and then with Andy Johnson, all in the same year, and that was more than any country could stand. Ebon C. Ingersoll was a brother of the famous Robert G. Ingersoll, the world's greatest agnostic.
Robert G. Ingersoll was one of the most eloquent men whom I have ever heard. He could utter the most beautiful sentiments clothed in language equally beautiful. Speaking of death and the hereafter one day, I heard him express himself in about the same language he afterward used on the lecture platform. It made a wonderful impression on me. He said:
"And suppose after all that death does end all? Next to eternal joy, next to being forever with those we love and those who have loved us, next to that, is to be wrapt in the dreamless drapery of eternal peace. Next to eternal life is eternal sleep. Upon the shadowy shore of death, the sea of trouble casts no wave. Eyes that have been curtained by the everlasting dark, will never know again the burning touch of tears. Lips touched by eternal silence will never speak again the broken words of grief. Hearts of dust do not break. The dead do not weep. Within the tomb no veiled and weeping sorrow sits, and in the rayless gloom is crouched no shuddering fear.
"I had rather think of those I have loved, and lost, as having returned to earth, as having become a part of the elemental wealth of the world—I would rather think of them as unconscious dust, I would rather dream of them as gurgling in the streams, floating in the clouds, bursting in the form of light upon the shores of worlds, I would rather think of them as the lost visions of a forgotten night, than to have even the faintest fear that their naked souls have been clutched by an orthodox God. I will leave my dear where Nature leaves them. Whatever flower of hope springs up in my heart, I will cherish, I will give it breath of sighs and rain of tears. But I cannot believe that there is any being in this universe who has been created for eternal pain."
Had it not been for the manner in which Robert Ingersoll outraged the members of every Christian denomination by attacking and ridiculing their beliefs, he would certainly have been called to high office in the Nation. He did not spare any denomination. Beginning with the Catholics and ending with the Baptists, he abused them all, made fun of them, and mercilessly pointed out their weak points. He was always particularly bitter against the Presbyterian Church, because, he declared, he was raised a Presbyterian, and knew more about that church than any other. The two brothers were very fond of each other, and Ebon C. never seemed to tire of talking about his brother's great talent. Robert G. was nearly broken- hearted when his brother died. One of the most touching and eloquent addresses which I have ever heard was the address he delivered on the occasion of Ebon's funeral. He stood at the head of the casket and once or twice nearly broke down. It was in that address, standing there in the presence of death, that he expressed some doubts as to the truth of his own teaching and intimated the possibility of some life beyond the grave. This was the only public occasion of which I have any knowledge in which Robert G. Ingersoll seemed to falter in his course.
We were very intimate, and it is a real pleasure to me to pay him here a tribute. He was a man of extraordinary talent and ability, one of the most lovable natures, and a man of the cleanest, most delightful home life. In many respects, I regard him as one of the greatest men of his day; certainly he was the greatest agnostic of his time, if not of all time. No one has taken his place. The very name, Agnostic, is now rarely heard. And why? Because Robert G. Ingersoll mercilessly tore down. He did not create, or build anything; he attempted to take away the beliefs in all religion, and he offered nothing in return. Hence it is that his teachings have practically died with him.
Another member of the Illinois delegation in the Thirty-ninth Congress, a well-known citizen of the State, was Anthony Thornton. He had been a member of the Supreme Court of the State, was a fine lawyer of the best type of manhood, and he enjoyed the confidence and respect of the members of the House. He resided in Shelbyville, but after retiring from Congress he decided to go to Decatur, where there was more business for a lawyer, and better opportunities. He did not succeed very well, however, because it was too late in his life to make a change and enter new fields.
A little incident connected with him occurred while I was Governor of the State. A young boy, whose parents the Judge knew, committed a burglary and was sent to the penitentiary. The parents of the boy were naturally anxious to get him out, and appealed to Judge Thornton to assist in securing his pardon. The Judge and I had served in Congress together, and, naturally, any plea bearing his endorsement would have great weight with me. Believing that the boy had been influenced by bad companions, he yielded and came to Springfield to see me. I looked the case over and finally said:
"Judge Thornton, you are an older man than I am; you were in Congress with me; you have been a Judge of the Supreme Court of the State; if you will say that you would issue this pardon if you occupied the chair I now occupy as Governor of this State, I will pardon him."
He replied: "Governor, I would not ask you to do a thing I would not do myself, to save my right arm."
Whereupon I at once issued the pardon.
"Judge," I told him, "the train will leave in a short time; go to
Joliet and take the boy home with you."
He did not do this; but he thanked me very cordially and said that he would see the boy as soon as he got home. The very night the boy left the penitentiary and returned home, he committed another burglary and was immediately arrested. I happened to see an account of the crime in the papers next morning, and I cut it out and sent it to Judge Thornton, with the inquiry, "Judge, what does this mean?" He at once came to Springfield, and told me that he had been fooled in prevailing upon me to pardon the young man, and pledged me that he would follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary in order to punish him for his crime. The boy was sent back to the penitentiary and I never heard of him afterwards.
Judge Thornton was one of the most honorable of men, a man of learning and legal ability as well.
One day, before I was elected to the Thirty-ninth Congress, President Lincoln was talking with me about the different members of that body. "There is a young man by the name of Blaine now serving in Congress," said he, "who seems to be one of the brightest men in the House. His speeches are always short, always full of facts, and always forcible. I am very fond of him. He is one of the coming men of the country."
This was one of the reasons why I was early attracted to Mr. Blaine.
He was candidate for Speaker in the Forty-first Congress. I was rather zealous in his behalf, and had more or less of a prominent part in his selection. When Mr. Blaine concluded that he would be a candidate for the Speakership, a little dinner was given at Welkers', a rather famous restaurant in Washington, at which Judge Kelley, Judge Orth, the late Senator Allison, who was then a member of the House from the State of Iowa; Mr. Mercur of Pennsylvania, the gentleman at the head of the Associated Press in Washington, and myself were present. After the dinner it was given out to the press that Mr. Blaine was a candidate for Speaker. As the campaign progressed it seemed to depend on Mr. Allison and me more largely than on any other members to take care of his interests. He was elected Speaker, and I had been given to understand by him, and had so communicated to friends in Congress whom I had induced to support Mr. Blaine, that I should be consulted in the make-up of the committees. Mr. Blaine never said a word to me on the subject, but almost at the last moment wrote me this note:
"Dear Cullom:
"Which committee would you prefer, Territories or Claims?
"James G. Blaine."
I selected Territories and became chairman of that committee. Allison told me he never spoke to him in reference to committees, although he gave him important assignments.
Probably the most bitter enemy Mr. Blaine ever had in public life was Roscoe Conkling, a Senator from New York. The quarrel between Blaine and Conkling commenced in the Thirty-ninth Congress, over some very trivial matter, and continued from that time on until Blaine was nominated as the candidate of the Republican party for the Presidency, in 1884, in which contest he was defeated by Grover Cleveland.
I occupied a seat next to Mr. Conkling during the early years of my service in Congress. He was a very friendly, companionable man, especially to any one whom he did not consider a rival, and, as I was a young man just entering Congress and politics, he gave me his friendship. I was present, sitting next to Conkling, when the famous controversy in the House took place between Blaine and Conkling. During the session, from time to time, they had been quarreling. Conkling had seemed to have a little the best of the argument. Blaine became exasperated one day, and in the course of the debate gave Conkling the worst "tongue lashing" probably ever given by one man to another on the floor of the House. Conkling, although unable to reply effectively, demeaned himself with great dignity. His manners were placid and his reply was in measured terms. It was in striking contrast to what Mr. Blaine said. To use a phrase graphic if inelegant, he jumped on Conkling with both feet and literally tore him to pieces without any attempt at dignity. This controversy with Conkling probably caused the defeat of Mr. Blaine for the nomination—first, in conventions prior to 1884, and finally after he became the nominee of that year.
Blaine was a candidate for President for many years. It seemed to be his destiny, as it was that of Henry Clay, to be able to secure the nomination only when the Republican party went down in defeat, as it did for the first time since the election of Lincoln. He was beaten in the Republican National Conventions by men of mediocre ability when the party was victorious.
He was a leading candidate at the Cincinnati Convention, when Hayes was nominated. I was there and heard Ingersoll's great speech placing him in nomination. I have always felt that Blaine would have been nominated by that convention if a strong, courageous presiding officer had been in the chair. As I sat behind Mr. McPherson, the presiding officer, and watched the proceedings, I thought that if I had had that gavel in my hands there would have been no adjournment and James G. Blaine would have been nominated. An adjournment was secured, however; the lights were extinguished, and the enemies of Blaine united, and Hayes became the nominee.
But at the convention held in Chicago, in 1884, no other candidate was seriously considered, and Blaine was nominated for President and Logan for Vice-President.
I had to do much in connection with Blaine in the campaign of 1884. He was a very agreeable man so long as things went to suit him; but he did not attempt to control himself when things went at all against him. He was campaigning through Indiana, Ohio, and Illinois, in 1884; I had been on the platform with him at Massillon, Ohio, when the people would scarcely listen to any one except Mr. McKinley. It was arranged that Blaine should come from La Fayette, Indiana, to Springfield, Illinois. I was chairman of the delegation consisting of one hundred of the most prominent men of the State, selected to accompany him to Springfield. The delegation went to La Fayette, and the Adjutant-General of the State and I waited on Mr. Blaine at the residence of Mr. George Williams, who is still living and whom I have always known intimately. Mr. Blaine's son came down in response to our call, announcing that his father had retired, ill, and would not be disturbed until eight o'clock in the morning. At the hour appointed we still had difficulty in seeing him, and finally I enlisted the assistance of Mr. McKinley, who was there, and the Hon. Joseph Medill of The Chicago Tribune, to help me to prevail upon Blaine to keep his engagement. He had come to the conclusion that he ought to go back East; that he was needed there more than he was in the West. The truth was that he was trying to evade the Springfield engagement. I told him that there would be no less than a hundred thousand people from all parts of the State gathered at Springfield to see him, and it would not do to disappoint so vast a crowd. He finally consented to go, but was very ungracious about it, telling us not to disturb him during the trip from La Fayette to Springfield, and at once retired to his drawing-room.
We soon came to a city in Indiana where there was a large crowd to greet him, and following his orders, the train did not stop. He emerged from his drawing-room very angry because the train had not been stopped when a crowd was waiting to hear him. Afterwards we halted at almost every station on the line to Springfield, where we did not arrive until almost dusk. Probably a hundred thousand people had been gathered there during the day, and at least fifty thousand waited until we arrived; but it was so dark that the audience could scarcely see the speaker. He left for Chicago that night, hurrying through that city; hence to Wisconsin, I believe, making enemies rather than friends. He had gained the election by his Western tour, but lost it during his stay in New York City. "Rum, Romanism, and Rebellion," the Delmonico dinner, the old row with Conkling beginning in the Thirty-ninth Congress, caused his defeat. I told him afterwards that if he had broken his leg in Springfield and been compelled to remain as my guest there, he would have been elected. He agreed with me that he would.
Notwithstanding his defeat, however, he continued as one of the foremost leaders of the Republican party up to the time of his death. He might have been nominated at the Chicago Convention, when Mr. Harrison received the nomination the first time had he not retired to Europe, apparently so disgusted at his own defeat four years before that he had not the heart to make the race again.
I do not think Harrison ever did like Blaine, but he invited him to become the Premier of his cabinet, a position which Mr. Blaine had held for a few months under General Garfield. Harrison and Blaine never got along. As I say elsewhere in these recollections, Harrison seemed jealous of Blaine, and Blaine was not true to his chief. Mr. Blaine sent for me one evening, and I called at his house. He related to me with considerable feeling how the President had treated both his family and himself. He urged me to become a candidate for President, but I told him that I would not think of doing so. I afterwards supported Mr. Harrison for reasons personal to myself, and not because I was particularly fond of Mr. Harrison.
James G. Blaine retired to private life and died soon afterwards, a broken, disappointed man. He was one of the greatest men of his day, and was the most brilliant and probably the most popular man with the masses in the history of the Republican party.
Rutherford B. Hayes was the nineteenth President of the United States, and preceded General Garfield in that office. He was neither as great a man nor as great an orator as General Garfield, although he was a much better executive officer, and in my opinion gave a better administration than General Garfield would have given had he served the term for which he was elected. Rutherford B. Hayes was an inconspicuous member of the House, as I recollect him now. He was what I would term a very good, conscientious man, who never made any enemies; but I do not think that any one would say that he was a great man. He did not talk very much in the House, nor accomplish very much. I became quite friendly with him there. Subsequently he was nominated for Governor of Ohio, and he invited me to come to the State and campaign for him, which I did.
Thurman was his opponent, a very strong and able man, who subsequently became a Senator from Ohio, and was a nominee of the Democratic party for Vice-President. But Hayes defeated him for the Governorship, and was once re-elected. He was nominated for President at the Cincinnati Convention of 1876, when Blaine really should have been the nominee, and would have been had the permanent chairman of the convention, Edward McPherson, grasped the situation and held it with a firm hand.
McPherson, while a man of good intentions, earnest and sincere, was Clerk of the House for many years and had occupied what might be termed a subordinate position. The fact of the matter is that he permitted the convention to get away from him; an adjournment was secured, and the same night it was framed up to beat Blaine by nominating Hayes.
Hayes was just the kind of man for a compromise candidate. He was seriously handicapped all through his administration owing to the manner in which he secured the office. The Electoral Commission, an unheard-of thing, created by act of Congress, by eight to seven declared that Hayes was elected over Tilden. Very many people were of the opinion that Tilden was entitled to the office. The Electoral Commission never would have been agreed to by the Democrats had they known that Judge David Davis, of our own State, would retire from the Bench to take a place in the Senate; and it is almost certain that had Judge Davis remained on the bench he would have been a member of the Electoral Commission, and would have surely voted in favor of Tilden, which would have made him President.
While Hayes was President the "green-back craze" seemed to almost take possession of the country. I delivered an address at Rockford, Illinois, before an agricultural society, taking issue to some extent with the public sentiment of the country, and favoring sound money. The President was going through the country at that time on a speaking tour, and in the course of some of his addresses he commended what I had said. He, accompanied by General Sherman, visited Springfield, and I entertained them at the Executive Mansion.
President Hayes, himself realizing the embarrassment under which he entered the office of President, was not a candidate for renomination, and very wisely so. But as I have said, President Hayes was a good man; he made a very commendable record as President of the United States, and he was specially fortunate in the selection of his cabinet, showing rare discrimination in selecting some of the ablest men in the country as his advisers. Evarts was his Secretary of State, and John Sherman Secretary of the Treasury.
It is a rather peculiar coincidence that both James A. Garfield and R. B. Hayes were members of the Ohio delegation in the Thirty- ninth Congress, and both afterwards arrived at the Presidency.
James A. Garfield was a man of extraordinary ability. I was very intimate with him during our service in the House. He was an extremely likable man; I became very fond of him, and I believe the feeling was reciprocated. Also he was distinguished for his eloquence, and I have heard him make some of the most wonderfully stirring and impressive speeches in the House. He was probably not the orator that Robert G. Ingersoll was, but I should say that he was one of the most effective public speakers of his period; his speeches were deeper and more serious, uttered in a graver style than the beautiful poetic imagery of the great agnostic. President Lincoln liked Garfield, and he was one of the younger men in the House who always supported the President, and on whom the President relied. He entered the Thirty-eighth Congress and served many terms. He enjoyed the peculiar distinction of being a member of Congress from Ohio, Senator-elect from Ohio, and President-elect of the United States, all at the same time.
I attended the National Republican Convention of 1880, in which
Grant and Blaine were the leading candidates. I was at the time
Governor of Illinois and a candidate for re-election myself;
consequently I could not take any active part in the contest between
Blaine and Grant, but of course, naturally, my sympathies were with
General Grant.
I was not a delegate to the National Convention, but I attended it, and it so happened that I occupied a room directly opposite that occupied by General Garfield.
One evening, leaving my room, I met General Garfield just as he was leaving his, and we dropped into general conversation and walked along together.
I have always been considered a pretty fair judge of a political situation in State and National conventions, and it struck me as soon as Garfield had completed one of the most eloquent of all his eloquent addresses, placing in nomination Mr. Sherman, that he was the logical candidate before that convention.
To digress for a moment, it is a peculiar coincidence that McKinley made his great reputation, in part, by nominating Mr. Sherman as a candidate for the Presidency in the Minneapolis convention of 1892. Like General Garfield in 1880, Mr. McKinley was perfectly willing to receive the nomination himself, although he was then, as Garfield was in 1880, the leader of the Sherman forces.
But to return. General Garfield and I walked down the hall together, and being very intimate friends, I used to call him by his first name, as he did me. I said: "James, if you will keep a level head, you will be nominated for the Presidency by this convention before it is over." This was a couple of days before he was actually nominated.
He replied: "No, I think not."
But as we walked along together discussing the matter, I contended that I was right.
At the end of that memorable struggle between Grant and Blaine, in which the great Republican party refused to accept General Grant, the foremost Republican and soldier of his time, Garfield was nominated.
I remember vividly the form and features of Garfield in that convention. I see him placing Sherman in nomination, probably not realizing at the time that he was nominating himself. I see him taking an active part in all the debates, and as I look back now I do not think I ever saw a man apparently so affected as General Garfield was when it was announced that he was the nominee of the Republican party for the Presidency of the United States. Seemingly he almost utterly collapsed. He sank into his seat, overcome. He was taken out of the convention and to a room in the Grand Pacific, where I met him a very few minutes afterward.
After General Garfield was elected to the Presidency, but before his inauguration, I determined that I would urge upon him the appointment of Mr. Robert T. Lincoln as a member of his cabinet. I thought then that his selection would not only be an honor to the State, but that the great name of Lincoln, so fresh then in the minds of the people, would materially strengthen General Garfield's administration.
With this purpose in view, I visited Garfield at his home in Mentor. This journey was an extremely difficult one, owing to the circumstance that the snow was yet deep on the ground; so I arranged with the conductor to stop at the nearest point to General Garfield's house to let me off, which he did. I walked from the train through banks of snow, and after the hardest kind of a walk, finally reached his house.
I at once told him the mission on which I had come. We had quite a long talk, at the end of which he announced that he would appoint Mr. Lincoln his Secretary of War.
In this connection I desire to say a few words concerning Robert T. Lincoln. He is still living. I have known him from boyhood. He has the integrity and the character which so distinguished his father, and was marked in his mother's people as well. It is my firm conviction that long ago Robert T. Lincoln could have been President of the United States had he possessed the slightest political aspiration. He has never been ambitious for public office; but, on the contrary, it has always seemed to me that the Presidency was especially repugnant to him, which would be natural, considering the untimely death of his father, if for no other reason. He was almost forced to take an active interest in public affairs, but as soon as he was permitted to do so he retired to private life to engage in large business undertakings, and finally to become the head of the Pullman Company.
It seems strange to me that he should consider the presidency of a private corporation, no matter how great the emoluments, above the Presidency of the greatest of all Republics. How unlike his father! He was a most excellent Secretary of War, and one of General Garfield's cabinet officers whom General Arthur invited to remain in his cabinet, which he did.
Under President Harrison he consented to become Minister to England. Neither my colleague, Senator Farwell, nor I favored this appointment —not because of any antipathy for Mr. Lincoln, for whom I not only have the highest respect and admiration, but like personally as well; but Mr. Blaine, who was Harrison's Secretary of State, called on me one day and asked me to recommend some first-class man from Illinois for the post. After a consultation with my colleague, we determined to recommend an eminent lawyer and cultured gentleman of Chicago, John N. Jewett. We did recommend him, and assumed that his appointment was assured; but Harrison—probably to humiliate Mr. Blaine—called Senator Farwell and me to him one day and announced that he had determined to appoint Robert T. Lincoln Minister to England.
Farwell was extremely angry, and wanted to fight the nomination. However, I counselled moderation. I pointed out that no criticism could be made of Mr. Lincoln, and that since he was my personal friend I could not very well oppose him. So I was glad to favor the appointment, although I was as humiliated as my colleague at the cool manner with which Harrison had snubbed us after Mr. Blaine's overtures.
I recollect very well the telegram which Mr. Lincoln received when he was in Springfield, attending the business of the Pullman Company. It was from his office in Chicago. It stated that there was a letter there that demanded immediate attention, and asked whether it should be forwarded. He gave instructions to forward it to Springfield. It turned out to be the invitation of General Garfield to enter his cabinet as Secretary of War, and asking an immediate reply. He brought it to me in the Governor's office, where he sat down and wrote his reply accepting General Garfield's invitation.
But to return to General Garfield. He was not a strong executive officer. In the brief period in which he occupied the White House, he did not make a good President, and in my judgment would never have made a good one. He vacillated in the disposition of his patronage. When I visited him while he was yet President-elect, he told me that Mr. Conkling would be with him the next day, and asked my advice as to what he should say to him. It was understood that Conkling was coming to protest against the appointment of Blaine as Secretary of State. My advice was to let Mr. Conkling understand that he would appoint whomsoever he pleased as members of his cabinet; that he would run the office of President without fear or favor; and that he would appoint Mr. Blaine as Secretary of State because he considered him the very man best qualified for that high office. Garfield agreed with me, asserting that I had expressed exactly what he intended saying to Conkling; but if we are believe the stories of Senator Conkling's friends, he made far different promises to Senator Conkling in reference to this as also to other appointments.
But the culmination of the trouble between Garfield and Conkling was the appointment of Robertson as Collector of Customs at the Port of New York. The President took the ground, for his own reasons, that the Collector of Customs of New York was a National office, in which every State had an interest, and was not to be considered as Senatorial patronage. Conkling strenuously contended that it was exclusively Senatorial patronage, and in this he was sustained by precedents.
It so happened that I was in Washington when the trouble between Conkling and Garfield was at its height, over the appointment of Robertson. I called to see the President to pay my respects. He asked me if I knew what General Logan would do in reference to the nomination of Mr. Robertson. I told him I did not know, and he asked me if I could find out, and to come to breakfast with him next morning. I did find out that General Logan expected to stand by the President, and I so reported to him next morning.
I bade him good-bye and this was the last time that I ever saw him alive. I attended his funeral at Cleveland, and as I saw his body laid away, I thought of the strange caprice of fate. Was it premonition that made him so sad and castdown—so utterly crushed, as it seemed to me—when he became the Republican candidate for President before that great convention of 1880? Had he not been elected President, he would probably have enjoyed a long, useful, and highly creditable public career. He would have been one of the most distinguished representatives that Ohio ever had in the upper branch of Congress. He was to the most eminent degree fitted for a legislator. In the national halls of Congress his public life had been spent; there he was at home. He was not at all fitted for the position of Chief Executive of the United States. And I say this not in a spirit of hostility, but in the most kindly way, because I loved General Garfield as one of my earliest friends, in those days of long ago, when I served in the Thirty-ninth Congress.
There was no man in the Thirty-ninth Congress with whom I was afterwards so long and intimately associated as I was with the late Senator William B. Allison of Iowa, with whom I served in the Senate for a quarter of a century.
Senator Allison was quite a prominent member of the House when I entered Congress, and was serving then as a member of the important Ways and Means Committee. He was regarded as one of the ablest and most influential of the Western members.
From the very earliest time I knew him, Senator Allison was an authority on matters pertaining to finance. While he was in favor of a protective tariff, he was not particularly a high-tariff advocate; he, and the late General Logan who was then in the House, and I worked together on tariff matters, as against the high-tariff advocates, led by General Schenck.
On one occasion we defeated a high-tariff proposition that General Schenck was advocating. He was furious, and rising up in his place, declared:
"I might as well move to lay the bill on the table and to write as its epitaph—'nibbled to death by pismires!'"
The remark made General Logan terribly angry; but Senator Allison, who had a quiet, keen sense of humor, and I were very much amused, —as much at the fury of Logan as at the remark of Schenck.
As a member of the House, Senator Allison followed the more radical element against President Johnson. He was much more radical than I was in those days, and he attacked President Johnson repeatedly on the floor of the House, in tone and manner utterly unlike himself when later he served in the Senate.
In the upper body he was decidedly a conservative. He never committed himself until he was absolutely certain. He was always regarded as a wise man, and he exercised an extraordinary control over members, in settling troublesome questions and bringing about harmony in the Senate. He had powerful influence, not only with members of his own party, but with members of the opposition. Every one had confidence in him. His statements were accepted without question. He never attempted oratory, but by cool statement of facts he moulded the opinions of legislators. He was one of those even tempered, level-headed, sound, sensible men to whom we naturally turned when there were difficult questions to settle.
There has been no man in our history who had a longer or more distinguished public career, and I do not know of any man who was more often invited to enter the cabinets of different Presidents than was Senator Allison. The Secretaryship of the Treasury was urged and almost forced upon him repeatedly. I visited Indianapolis to see the President-elect, Mr. Harrison, and it so happened that Senator Allison and I entered together, Mr. Harrison having sent for him. I saw Harrison first, and he told me that he was going to ask Senator Allison to become his Secretary of the Treasury. I assured him that I was confident that he would decline the office —an assertion that occasioned much surprise, even a display of temper. Mr. Harrison seemed to think that it was Senator Allison's duty to accept the place. When Senator Allison saw him a short time later, the office was tendered him and he promptly declined to accept it. Nothing that Mr. Harrison could do or say would induce him to change his mind.
Mr. McKinley was anxious to have Senator Allison in his cabinet, and I do not think I shall be violating any confidence, now that they are both dead, in saying that in declining the appointment Allison urged McKinley, as he afterwards told me, to appoint me as Secretary of the Treasury, and McKinley gave him so strong an assurance that he intended to invite me to enter his cabinet, that when Allison saw me in Washington at the beginning of the session, I being a member of his Committee on Appropriations, he said: "Cullom, you are to enter the cabinet; now you will not be able to do much work on the Appropriations Committee, and you had better devote your time to getting your affairs in shape preparing to leave the Senate and become Secretary of the Treasury."
I had urged President McKinley to beg Senator Allison to enter his cabinet. Coming from the source that Allison's assurance did, I naturally took it more or less seriously, but I did not give the matter much thought.
The nearest that Mr. McKinley came to inviting me to enter the cabinet, was an inquiry he made of me, which position I would prefer in a cabinet, Secretary of State or Secretary of the Treasury. I replied that, personally, I should prefer the Treasury, as I had at that time no particular interest or training in foreign affairs. I know now that Mr. McKinley did fully intend to tender to me the Treasury portfolio, and I also know, but I do not feel at liberty at this time to reveal, the influence in Illinois which induced him to change his mind. I am very glad now that the position was not tendered to me, as I might have accepted it, because of the known desire of certain friends in this State to secure my seat in the Senate, in which event I should have been long since retired to private life.
Senator Allison was the trusted adviser of President after President —Grant, Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, Harrison, McKinley, Roosevelt all called upon him. There was no Senator who had to a greater extent their confidence. Had he lived he would have been as close, if not closer to President Taft. He served in the Senate longer than any other man in all our history. He broke Benton's long record. He broke the long record of Senator Morrill. He served eight years in the House and more than thirty-five years in the Senate, a total of forty-three years and five months in Congress. For forty-three years the history of his life embodies the complete financial legislative history of the United States.
Another conspicuous member of the Thirty-ninth Congress was Nathaniel P. Banks of Massachusetts. He had a long, varied, and interesting career, both in public and private life. He was many times elected to Congress from Massachusetts, and in 1856, after a long contest which lasted more than two months, was elected Speaker of the House of Representatives. He was Governor of his State, and in 1861, for a short time, president of the Illinois Central Railroad, from which position he resigned to enter the Union army as a major- general, serving throughout the war.
I did not know him when he was stationed at Chicago but I became very well acquainted with him in Congress. He was Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs, of which committee I was a member. Not only was General Banks a polite, agreeable man, but he was an exceptionally effective speaker, and very popular in the House.
There occurs to me a little controversy which he had with the late
Senator Dawes, who was at that time a member of the House from
Massachusetts.
General Banks was undertaking to pass a bill to which Mr. Dawes objected. Banks was nettled. Taking the floor, he accused his colleague of always objecting to bills he attempted to pass. Dawes arose in his place, and in the most ponderous fashion, turned to Banks.
"I appeal to my colleague," he asked, "when did I ever before object to any bill which he was attempting to pass?"
Banks jumped to his feet, and said in his high-pitched voice: "I do not know that my colleague ever did, but I always thought that he was just about to."
General Banks served during the six years that I was a member of the House, and several terms afterwards, his public service ending with the Fifty-first Congress. He died at his home in Massachusetts, in 1894.
Daniel W. Voorhees was another celebrated member of the Thirty- ninth Congress, and was later a Senator from Indiana. Senator Voorhees was a very able man and a zealous, consistent Democrat. He was charged, and I have no doubt at all that it was true, with being a Rebel sympathizer, and a prominent member of the Knights of the Golden Circle. A fine, gifted speaker, a kind-hearted gentleman, he was very popular with the people of Indiana. Dan Voorhees and Thomas A. Hendricks, who was afterward Vice-President of the United States, were the two most prominent Democrats of Indiana in all its history, and indeed were two of the foremost Democrats of the North.
Senator Voorhees' seat, as a member of the House in the Thirty- ninth Congress, was successfully contested; and I can see him now, with his imposing presence, making his final speech in the House, after the result of the contest had become known. Garbed in a long cloak, he defended his right to his seat with the greatest dignity. The vote was taken; his opponent was seated; then he drew his cloak about him, and with the air of a king, walked out of the House, almost triumphantly. I had voted against him, but the dignity with which he carried off the occasion certainly commanded my deepest admiration.
He was a great admirer of Mr. Lincoln. He knew him well; had been associated with him in many lawsuits on the circuit, at Danville, and in the eastern part of the State; and although they belonged to opposing political parties, he evinced for Lincoln a very warm feeling.
Senator Voorhees once told me a rather interesting story in connection with President Lincoln. It was the occasion of the dedication of what was known as the Foundery Methodist Church in Washington. Mr. Lincoln was present, Voorhees was there, and Bishop Simpson delivered the dedicatory address. The bishop was an eloquent speaker and his sermon was a characteristic one. The President was seated in an armchair in front of the pulpit, with his back to the minister, and after the sermon was over, an effort was at once made to raise funds to pay the debt of the church. This phase of the meeting was tiresomely protracted, the minister, in the customary style, earnestly urging an unresponsive congregation to contribute until nearly every inducement had been exhausted. Finally someone started a movement to raise a certain definite amount of money, the achievement of which would make the President a life member of some church society. But even this scheme was not accepted with much enthusiasm, and Bishop Simpson renewed his plea for donations. At last Mr. Lincoln, who had been growing tired and bored at the performance, craned his head around toward Bishop Simpson, and said in a tone that everybody heard: "Simpson, if you will stop this auction I will pay the money myself."
And since Bishop Simpson's name has been mentioned, another incident in which he figured is suggested, which might as well be related here.
In the Methodist Church Bishop Simpson's name is a household word. He was one of its most prominent divines, and in sympathy with that branch which remained loyal to the Union. Naturally he was a great admirer of Mr. Lincoln—in fact, so close was he to the President that it was his influence that secured the appointment of Senator Harlan of Iowa as Secretary of the Interior. What follows will demonstrate that this statement is not made on hearsay.
Several prominent men of Illinois, and other parts of the country, were in Washington trying to secure the appointment of Uncle Jesse K. Dubois (the father of Senator Dubois of Idaho who served in the United States Senate two terms with great credit to himself and State), as Secretary of the Interior. Uncle Jesse Dubois was there himself, and we all met one evening at the National Hotel, at which meeting I was designated to go to the White House and use my influence with President Lincoln in Uncle Jesse's behalf. Uncle Jesse had no business coming to Washington when he was being pushed for a cabinet office; but he did, nevertheless, and he was not in good health. About ten o'clock at night I saw the President, and laid before him Uncle Jesse's claims. His reply was:
"I cannot appoint him. I must appoint Senator Harlan. I promised Bishop Simpson to do so. The Methodist Church has been standing by me very generally; I agreed with Bishop Simpson to give Senator Harlan this place, and I must keep my agreement. I would like to take care of Uncle Jesse, but I do not see that I can as a member of my cabinet."
I replied: "If you have determined it, that is the end of the matter, and I shall so report to the friends who are gathered at the National, so that Uncle Jesse may go on home."
President Lincoln seemed much affected. He followed me to the door, repeating that he would like to take care of Uncle Jesse, but could not do so.
Jesse Dubois went home to Springfield, but he remained as stanch a friend to Lincoln as ever, and was one of the committee sent from Springfield to accompany the remains of the immortal President to their last resting-place.
George S. Boutwell was another member of the Thirty-ninth Congress who merits some attention. He afterward became very influential among the radical element, and was one of the managers on the part of the House in the impeachment of President Johnson. It is hard to understand in a man of his sober, sound sense; but I am convinced that he firmly believed President Johnson to have been a conspirator in securing the assassination of Mr. Lincoln. He was Secretary of the Treasury under President Grant, who had for him the greatest respect and confidence. I never was very intimate with him, but I knew him fairly well, and considered him one of the leading public men of Massachusetts of his day.
One of the leading members of the Pennsylvania delegation in the Thirty-ninth Congress was William D. Kelley. He was a prominent member of the House, a good speaker, although he always prepared his addresses at great length, principally on the tariff; but he did not confine himself to his manuscripts entirely. His specialty in Congress was the tariff. He was called "Pig-iron Kelley" because he was for high duties on pig-iron and, in fact, everything manufactured in Pennsylvania. That State, as everybody knows, is the great iron and steel manufacturing State of the Union, and its representatives in Congress were in that day, as they are in this, the highest of high protective tariff advocates.
Before entering Congress, William D. Kelley for a number of years had been a judge of one of the more important courts of Philadelphia. He was elected to and kept in the House, without any particular effort on his own part, because he was considered one of the most valuable men in Congress in matters pertaining to the tariff. When I was a candidate for re-election to the House he visited my district and made several very able speeches for me at my request, and, with his wife, was my guest in Springfield for several days. At that time Republicans were for a high protective tariff, and it was not considered then, as it seems to be in these days of so-called insurgency, a crime for a Republican to stand up and say that he was in favor of high tariff duties. In any event, Judge Kelley did me much good in the speeches he made in my district.
We occupied apartments in the same house in Washington—on F Street near the Ebbitt House, at which hotel we took our meals. F Street is now the heart of the business centre, but it was then one of the principal residence streets, and many Representatives and Senators lived in that vicinity. The only objection I had to living in the same house with Judge Kelley was that he was always preparing speeches, and when he got ready to deliver a speech he would insist on reading it all over to me; and as his speeches were generally two or three hours long, and always on the tariff, in which I did not take an extraordinary amount of interest, I became pretty tired of hearing them.
On one occasion when he was making quite an eloquent speech in the House, he was interrupted by a member from Kentucky, whose name I do not remember. He had already answered him once or twice and then gone on. He was interrupted again, and this time he answered: "Oh, don't interrupt me when the glow is on." The "glow" did happen to be on at that time, and naturally he did not desire to be interrupted.
In the same Pennsylvania delegation there were two members named Charles O'Neill and Leonard Myers, who were very short in stature. For some reason or other, some wag dubbed them "Kelley's ponies." They heard of it and became very angry, and on every occasion, when there was half a chance, they watched to see how Judge Kelley voted and would then vote the opposite.
They were both good men and good Republicans, and O'Neill served the same number of terms as Judge Kelley—fifteen—but O'Neill remained his full fifteen terms and retired from Congress. Judge Kelley was serving his fifteenth term when he died in Washington, in 1890.
Samuel J. Randall was one of the prominent Democrats of his day; but strange to say he favored a protective tariff. He also served about fifteen terms, two of them in the Speaker's chair. He had an anxious solicitude for the success of his party, and made many political speeches. He was a young member when I first knew him, away back in the sixties, but even then he occupied an influential position.
I remember meeting him in Mr. Blaine's office one day, when the latter was Secretary of State, and Mr. Blaine not being in, we sat on the settee and had a talk. He was in poor health, but curious respecting the relations between President Harrison and his party. I told him they were not getting along very well; that he satisfied his party about as well as Mr. Cleveland satisfied his when he was in the White House.
"I think," he observed, "he is better than our President. We never could do much with Cleveland." Then he added this characteristic remark: "If you want an army to fight, you must feed it. It is the same with a political party: if a party is to take care of itself, its workers must be recognized in the distribution of its patronage."
I never saw Samuel J. Randall afterwards.
Judge Godlove S. Orth was one of my most intimate friends in the House of Representatives. He was a splendid man, and was regarded as an honorable and able member. He and I saw much of each other every day, as we roomed in the same neighborhood and generally visited the departments together. We were seen with each other so often on the streets, in fact, that when we were separated, friends would ask either one or the other of us: "What has become of your partner?" At one time I canvassed his district for him and he was re-elected.
He had a peculiar name, "Godlove." I never heard of a man named Godlove, either before or since. The story was told of a lady sitting in the gallery, listening to the proceedings of the House. She could not hear very well. When the roll was being called, and she heard the name "Godlove" called by the clerk, she did not understand it; she wend down stairs and told her friends that the House of Representatives was a most pious body; that every time they called the roll, and the clerk got about half way through, he would stop and exclaim: "God love us all!"
Judge Orth has been dead for many years, but I have always remembered with great pleasure our friendship when we served as colleagues in the House, nearly half a century ago.
Oakes Ames of Boston was a prominent member of the House. He had charge of the Union Pacific Railroad construction, and it was charged—and proven, I believe, afterwards—that he secured the concessions for the railroad by undue influence,—the use of money, gifts of stock, etc.,—and the whole thing finally culminated in what is known as the Crédit Mobilier scandal, the exposure of which came after I retired from the House.
Ames was a member of the Thirty-eighth, Thirty-ninth, Fortieth, Forty-first, and Forty-second Congresses, and I knew him very well during my six years' service. I was made chairman of the Committee on Territories in the Forty-first Congress, by Mr. Blaine, who was then Speaker. Ames annoyed me very much by coming to me almost every day in the interest of legislation in the Territories affecting the Union Pacific, and I asked him one day, being a little out of temper, whether he was so absorbed in the Pacific Railroad that he had not time to devote to anything else. He made some light rejoinder; sometime later the exposure came, and I found that he was engaged in most unfortunate and unlawful practices in securing legislation in the interest of his road.
I never believed that Oakes Ames was naturally a dishonest man, but the proof was against him, and the scandal resulted in his death, as it also did in the death of James Brooks, of New York, and the ruination of other public men.
I knew S. S. Cox ("Sunset" Cox, as he was called), as a member of the Forty-first Congress. He had served in some previous Congress as a member from Ohio; but when I knew him he was serving as a member from New York.
Cox was an able man, as a speaker, a writer, and a diplomat. He was always listened to with great respect and attention when he addressed the House, but a considerable amount of fun was poked at him after a certain occasion when he had interrupted General Butler a time or two in debate, and the General, finally losing patience, replied to one of his questions with the admonition: "Shoo, fly, don't bodder me!" I was present at the time; the galleries were filled, as they always were in those days; and when General Butler uttered this reproof the whole House, galleries, and floor, was in an uproar, maintaining the confusion for some minutes. When it seemed like subsiding, it would break out again and again, and so it continued for quite a while. When order was finally restored Cox undertook to reply; but he could not do so. He had been so crippled by the response of the audience to Butler's remark that he never recovered from it.
Cox was a splendid man. He always thought in those days that he had not been quite appreciated by his friends in the Democratic party, and they thought the same way; but he was so good-humored, and such a whole-souled man and so fond of wit that he really never did get what he was entitled to.
I was trying to pass a bill which I had prepared for the purpose of prohibiting and wiping out polygamy in Utah. I had reported the bill from the Committee on Territories, and I was doing my best to pass it. For some reason or other (afterwards I learned it was an ulterior reason to help out a friend), General Schenck undertook to defeat the measure, and for this purpose he asked to have it referred to the Committee on Judiciary. This committee probably had jurisdiction over the subject; I did not think so at the time, and believed that such a reference would kill the bill. He seemed to be making some headway with the Republicans, when Cox came over to me from the Democratic side of the House, and proposed that if I would yield to him for five minutes he would help me to pass the bill. I told him to go back to his seat and that I would yield to him directly. When I did Cox took the floor, and to my utter astonishment he denounced the bill as the most outrageous bill that had ever been brought before the House, declaring in the most spirited manner that of course it ought to be referred to the Judiciary Committee, because every one knew that such a reference would kill it.
But he was shrewder than I apprehended at the moment. His talk had the desired effect, for the Republicans who had been following Schneck determined that they would not be responsible for killing the bill; they came back to me, and the measure was passed through the House by a substantial majority.