CHAPTER X SPEAKER OF THE LEGISLATURE, AND GOVERNOR 1871 to 1883

After my six years' service in the Lower House of Congress, I returned home, not expecting ever again to take office, or engage in politics. There was a contest going on in the State over the location of the State Capitol. The State had committed itself to the erection of a new Capitol building, and had really made considerable progress on its construction.

In the meantime, the question of changing the location from Springfield to some other city was agitated. Peoria made a very strong effort for the removal to that city. The work on the new building, as an immediate result, was stopped. The Legislature had adjourned, and another election of members was to occur. This condition of local affairs existed when I returned home after my service was finished in Washington.

The friends in my home county, in which the State Capitol is located, waited on me and expressed a desire that I should allow my name to be used as a candidate for the Legislature. I made known my resolve not to enter politics again; but they based the proposal upon a ground that made it extremely difficult and embarrassing not to accede, to-wit: they had been with me for anything I had ever wanted, and now they wanted me to reciprocate, and do as they desired. I did not feel that I could disregard their wishes, and so yielded to their demand; it was nothing less.

They then went to the Hon. Milton Hay, who was a great lawyer, and as good a man as I ever knew, and made the same demand upon him. He was under no special obligation to yield to their wishes, for he had never asked for office at the hands of the people. He declined; but they also declined to take "No" for an answer. The result was that both Hay and I became candidates, were both elected, and the contest over the removal of the State Capitol was renewed.

I was chosen Speaker. Mr. Hay was the foremost lawyer of the Legislature. One million dollars was reported from the proper committee of the House, and passed without opposition, and the work on the Capitol was once more taken up.

Finding myself again in politics, I determined to become a candidate for Governor. To be successful, it seemed to be important that I should go back into the Legislature, which I did. After my re- election I was supported by the Republican party for Speaker for my second term.

However, the House of Representatives was in control of the opposition, composed of Democrats and Independents, the latter being more generally wrong than the Democrats, and much less reliable. The combination organized the House, the Hon. Elijah Haines being elected Speaker, and the Republicans casting their united vote for me. This Legislature has ever since been known as the "Haines Legislature," the most notorious Legislature ever known in the State. Haines was a man of ability—especially, to stir up strife and produce confusion.

The Legislature convened in the Winter of 1875. I was nominated for Governor early in 1876, elected in November of the same year, and sworn in January, 1877.

On re-examining my inaugural address, I find much stated there that is at the present time, and must long remain, of historic interest to the people of Illinois; but since its length precludes reproduction here, I can merely touch upon certain points, more fully covered in the address, that offer many curious aspects and contrasts in the light of latter-day conditions.

To begin with, the Legislature of that year was the first to meet in the new Capitol. The effects of the financial panic of 1873 were still felt, but it was pointed out that the State's resources were in no way impaired; that on the contrary—circumstances to be proud of—the volume of private indebtedness had been materially reduced, while the productive wealth of farms, buildings, factories, mines, and railroads had never before been so great.

Of matters educational, there had been enrolled as pupils the preceding year (1876) 687,446 persons, and appropriations for public- school purposes for the corresponding period had amounted to $8,268,539.58.

Among other matters of local interest adverted to, which to-day are as alive and momentous as they were then, were the subjects of navigation—particularly on the Illinois River and the canal—and the supervision of the railroads by the Railroad and Warehouse Commission. At that time there were 7,285 miles of railroad in the State—a greater mileage than any other State in the Union could boast of.

Only eleven years had elapsed since the close of the Civil War, and its after-effects still worked like an obnoxious ferment in the State's political conditions; closely allied with this was the influence of the Hayes-Tilden contest, all of which commanded a large proportion of my speech.

One extract I wish to quote in full, since it was prelude to events which followed so soon afterwards:

"I desire to add one suggestion in reference to the affairs of our own State, by calling your attention to the Militia Law. I believe a more perfect law should be enacted, which will secure a more thorough organization of the State militia.

"The spirit of our institutions and the temper of our people are hostile to a standing army, and I am opposed to any policy, State or National, looking to governing the people by bayonet; yet in the most highly civilized communities a trained militia, recruited from the intelligent and industrious classes, is an almost indispensable auxiliary to the civil power in the interests of peace and good order."

Little did I dream that within six months of my inauguration the timeliness and force of the suggestions, and any recommendations contained in the closing paragraphs above, would find convincing illustrations in conditions throughout the Nation, and especially in Illinois.

In July, 1877, the famous strike of the railway employees came on. It was exceptionally strong in the cities of Illinois—Chicago, Decatur, Springfield, Galesburg, East St. Louis, and every other city of considerable size. The State was ill prepared for such a crisis. The strike ran along for several days with the State unready to bring the matter to a close. Having been in office but a few months, I had not yet secured any arms or other military equipment with which to combat organized violations of the law. The Illinois National Guard was inchoate—in fact, scarcely organized at all, except in companies voluntarily formed, which were almost entirely without military equipment. Finally, however, I determined to order the National Guard to East St. Louis.

I telegraphed to Chicago for a locomotive and car to take me to East St. Louis about two o'clock on a specified night. After ordering the troops from different parts of the State to assemble at East St. Louis on a given day, I went to East St. Louis myself, three or four gentlemen accompanying me. There I found several thousand men sitting about on the curbs of the sidewalks, apparently perfectly quiet and inoffensive, if not unconcerned, and I concluded that there was no reason why trains should not move.

However, I first consulted with several railroad men, expressing the opinion that the strikers and their sympathizers did not seem desirous of disturbing anybody, and insisted that they proceed to move out their trains.

The superintendent of one of the roads finally promised to have a train made up, and undertake to move it.

"All right," said I. "Fire up, and I will come around about the time you are ready to move." He did as he had promised, and I went around with the friends who were accompanying me.

But about the time the train was ready to move, these mild-mannered laboring men, to the number of five or six hundred, gently closed in upon the train, and put out the fire in the engine so it could not be moved.

Thereupon, I stood upon the sidewalk and addressed this crowd of five or six hundred fire-extinguishers. I told them that I had come there to move the trains, and while I did not want to hurt any one, that the trains would be started, if everybody who interfered first had to be disabled. They gradually skulked away, and I ordered the fire built up again, asserting that I would be back in half an hour to see the trains move. But the men notified the engineer that they would kill any man who undertook to take the train out, and in the fact of that threat no one could be prevailed upon the man engines or train.

Finally, however, one man agreed, if I would accompany him as far as Decatur, about a hundred miles, to endeavor to go out with the train. I told him I could not do that, but I would stand by his side while he was going through the streets of East St. Louis. But he would not agree to this, so that my efforts to move a single train had met with complete failure. The result was that I was driven to the expediency of calling upon the military arm of the State authority.

That evening the troops began to arrive. They were stationed at the strategic points of the city during the night, and the next morning the trains moved out without a single accident or disturbance.

In Chicago, the National Guard did not seem to accomplish anything. The people there did not take them seriously, and the result was that I called upon the National Government to send to that city a few companies of regular troops. I think they came from Omaha. When they arrived, and marched up the streets—that was the end of the strike in that city.

So I managed to get through the trouble without injury to a single person, or the loss of any property except that caused by the delay in the transaction of business. These results were quite different from those in some other parts of the country. My chief private secretary was in the East somewhere, and could not return to me until the trouble was all over.

As Governor of a State in a time when actual war was not flagrant, I could only watch, as might any other American citizen, the exciting proceedings at the National Capital, and hope that our country might issue from the political contest without a weakening of our institutions or loss of prestige. At the same time, I felt that I might appropriately express my approval of the attitude of the National administration, which I did in a letter to the President.

When I was Governor of the State of Illinois, I had the good fortune of becoming intimately acquainted with one of the great soldiers of the recent Civil War, who was, in my judgment, the greatest cavalry leader of modern times,—General Phil Sheridan. He was Commander of the Department of the Lakes during my administration, and I had the pleasure of meeting him on numerous occasions.

At an immense reunion of volunteer soldiers from Northern Illinois, Michigan, and Wisconsin, which was held in Aurora, I, as Governor of the State, was invited to make the first address. General Sheridan was invited to be present and take part in this celebration, and he came down from Chicago, accompanied by his wife. I met them at Aurora. We rode in the same carriage, at the rear of the procession, to the fair grounds, a mile or so distant from the city. The day was hot, and as we entered a dense grove, on the road, the soldiers halted for a breathing spell, and while at rest many of them went to a well near by for water. It was observed by some of the soldiers that General Sheridan remained in the carriage, and they immediately surrounded us. He greeted all cordially and good-naturedly, being very fond of soldiers who had fought on the Union side of the great struggle between the North and the South. What immediately followed pleased Mrs. Sheridan and those who were near, and amused Sheridan himself. A big Irish soldier-boy got hold of Sheridan's hand and pulled him out of the carriage. Being of small stature, General Sheridan was at the mercy of the stalwart Irishman, who dealt with him in a very rough way, slapping him on the back with great force, and with as much earnestness exclaiming: "Boys, this is the damnedest, bravest little Mick in America!"

As is well known now, the operations of General Sheridan in the Shenandoah Valley and the region of Richmond called forth the plaudits of the Nation and the commendation of his superiors. His victories had much to do with bringing the Civil War to a close. He was conscious of the power and value of the cavalry arm of the army. In discussing his great achievements he made the remarkable statement that with a force of five or ten thousand cavalrymen, will organized, he could run over an army of almost any size. Whether this be true or not, it remains that General Grant had implicit confidence in Sheridan's ability to command the cavalry forces in a manner superior to any other officer in the Union Army.

It was on the suggestion of Grant that Sheridan was brought from the West to take command of the cavalry. After coming East, he was presented to President Lincoln. The President scrutinized him closely. He did not appear to be the officer recommended to him by Grant as the one man who could bring the cavalry forces to that standard which was so much desired.

The first time Lincoln met Grant after Sheridan called on him he expressed his doubt. "The officer you brought from the West seems rather a little fellow to handle your cavalry," said he.

Grant, however, unshaken in the belief that he at last had an officer under him whom he could trust in charge of all the armies of the Union if necessary, replied: "You will find him big enough for the purpose before we get through with him."

Sheridan was not only popular with his superior officers and men under him, but with the people generally. He was held in the highest esteem by the people of my State. After his promotion to the rank of Lieutenant-General, the citizens of Chicago presented him with a house in Washington, as a mark of their friendship and devotion.

While Governor I rendered a decision in an extradition case, which formed a precedent, and which is referred to by writers on extradition.

Moore comments on it as follows:

"In December, 1878, an interesting decision was made by Governor Cullom, of Illinois, in the case of two persons named Gaffigan and Merrick, whose surrender was demanded by the Governor of Pennsylvania on a charge of murder committed in that State in January, 1865. Accompanying the requisition was an indictment found against them in Pennsylvania in March, 1865, for the crime for which their rendition was demanded. It was alleged in their behalf that soon after the murder was committed, and before the indictment was found, they left their place of residence in Pennsylvania and went to Illinois, where they had resided continuously in an open manner, bearing their own names, transacting daily business, and holding responsible public positions. In 1870 or 1871 Gaffigan was joined by his father, who left their former place of residence in Pennsylvania with the avowed purpose of joining his son in Illinois. The residence of the latter in Illinois was also known to other persons in the particular locality in Pennsylvania, among whom were a constable and a witness whose name was endorsed on the indictment. On the other hand, the prosecuting attorney in Pennsylvania denied that there had been any laches in the matter, and declared that he had acted upon the first knowledge that he had acquired in respect to the whereabouts of the persons charged. Governor Cullom held that while it might be inferred from the fact that the accused left the State of Pennsylvania shortly after the date of the murder that they were fugitives from justice, yet this character did not always adhere to them; and that their long residence in Illinois, which was so entirely unconcealed and well known, that the officers of justice in Pennsylvania could have been ignorant of it only because they made no effort to find it out, had purged them of the character of fugitives from justice. It may be argued that this decision rests on moral rather than on strictly legal grounds. It is generally held that there is no limitation as to the time in recovery of fugitives from justice other than such as may be established by statutes of limitations of the Governments concerned, and it does not appear to have been suggested in the case under consideration that any such limitation had been established either by the laws of Pennsylvania or of Illinois. The decision of Governor Cullom may also be thought to involve the theory that the authorities of the demanding State may be called upon to show that they have used due diligence in pursuing the fugitives and in seeking their surrender."

The decision created much comment at the time, some adverse, suggesting that it amounted to the exercise of the pardoning power by a Governor of one state for a crime committed in another.

My administration as Governor of Illinois was a very quiet, uneventful one. I endeavored to give the State strictly a business administration, and I believe I succeeded. I appointed the very best men that I could find to State offices. I did not interfere with the conduct of the various departments and institutions, except to exercise a general supervision over them. I held my appointees strictly accountable for the conduct of the affairs of their respective offices, and did not attempt to dictate to them the appointment of their subordinates.

During the six years I served as Governor there was not a single scandal connected with the executive department of Illinois. I never had the slightest trouble with the Legislature. I never interfered in the organization of the Senate or House. I believed then, and I believe now, in the independence of the three co-ordinate branches of the Government. I no more thought of influencing the Legislature than I would have thought of attempting to influence the Judiciary. My recommendations were made in official messages, as the Constitution prescribes, and generally, I might say, the Legislature carried out my recommendations. The administration was an economical one, and it was during this period that the entire State debt was paid.