A Political History of the State of New York, Volumes 1-3

by De Alva Stanwood Alexander

Democratic leaders saw the situation with alarm. They had endorsed the Philadelphia movement to get into power,—not to give it to Dix and the Conservatives. The President's reconstruction policy, benefiting their party in the South and thus strengthening it in national elections, had been adopted with sincerity, but they did not seriously propose to merge their organisation in the State with another, giving it the reins and the whip. "The New York delegation to Philadelphia," said the World, "was appointed by a gathering of politicians at Saratoga, who neither represented, had any authority to bind, nor made any pretence of binding the Democratic organisation of the State."[325] Indeed, it was treated as a surprising revelation that conservative Republicans and Dix Democrats should come to Albany with such a notion. However, the Dix appeal, developing wonderful strength, could not be reasoned with, and in their desperation the Democrats sought an adjournment until the morrow. This the convention refused, granting only a recess until four o'clock. In the meantime Dix's chances strengthened. It was plain that his nomination, on lines approved by Seward, meant a split in Republican ranks, and the up-State delegates, fearing delay, stood for early action. Then came the inevitable trick. On reassembling a motion to adjourn was voted down three to one, but Sanford E. Church, the chairman, declaring it carried, put on his hat and quickly left the hall. It was an audacious proceeding. Two-thirds of the convention stood aghast, and Church, the next morning, found it necessary to make an abject apology. Nevertheless, his purpose had been accomplished. Adjournment gave Tammany the time fiercely to assail Dix, who was now charged with consigning Democrats to Fort Lafayette, suppressing Democratic legislatures, and opposing Seymour in 1864. John Morrissey, the pugilist and congressman, declared that Dix could not poll twenty thousand votes in New York City. Meanwhile Democratic leaders, closing the door against Weed and the Conservatives, quietly agreed upon Hoffman. Had Dean Richmond lived a month longer this coup d'état would probably not have occurred. In vigour of intellect, in terseness of expression, and in grasp of questions presented for consideration, Richmond was recognised as the first unofficial man in America, and he had long thought it time for the Democratic party to get into step with the progress of events.

The next morning, as prearranged, Edwards Pierrepont took the floor, and after characterising the assembly as a Democratic convention whose programme had been settled in advance by Democrats, he formally and apparently with the assent of Dix coolly withdrew the latter's name, moving that the nomination of John T. Hoffman be made by acclamation.[326] This was carried with shouts of wild exultation. Many Dix supporters, anticipating the outcome, had silently left the hall, but enough remained to hear, with profound astonishment, the confession of Pierrepont that he had united with Tammany for the nomination of Hoffman before the meeting of the Philadelphia convention. Why, then, it was asked, did he advocate Dix the day before? and upon whose authority did he withdraw Dix's name? After such an exposure it could not be said of Pierrepont that he was without guile. "It was the occasion of especial surprise and regret," wrote Weed, "that even before the National Union State convention had concluded its labours, Judge Pierrepont should have assumed that it was a Democratic convention, and that its programme had been settled in advance by Democrats. This was not less a surprise when I remembered that on the day previous to that announcement, Judge Pierrepont concurred fully with me in the opinion that the nomination of General Dix for governor was expedient and desirable."[327]

But the worst blow to a union of political interests was yet to come. To afford the people safety in their persons, security in their property, and honesty in the administration of their government, a Republican Legislature had placed the affairs of New York City largely in control of Boards and Commissions. Tammany naturally resented this invasion of home rule, and after reaffirming the principles of the Philadelphia movement, the convention declared that "recent legislation at Albany has usurped a supreme yet fitful control of the local affairs which counties and municipalities are entitled to regulate."[328] To Conservatives nothing could have been more offensive than such a declaration. "There are thousands of Republicans," said Raymond, "who long for a restoration of the Union by the admission to their seats in Congress of loyal men from loyal States, but who will be quite likely to prefer taking their chances of securing this result from the action of the Republican party, modified as it may be by reflection and moderate counsels, rather than seek it in the way marked out for them by the Albany Democratic convention."[329]

Thus the clash began. Conservatives resented the evident intention of the Democrats to strengthen their party at the expense of the Philadelphia movement. "We desire to call special attention," said a Buffalo paper, "to the necessity of carrying out in good faith the understanding which was entered into at the Philadelphia convention that all old party antecedents and future action should be merged in the National Union organisation. It was not contemplated then, or since, to strengthen the Democratic party by that movement, and any effort in that direction now cannot fail to be mischievous."[330] Before the month of September expired Raymond warned the World that he was not pledged to the action of the Albany convention. "No Republican went into it for any such purpose," he said. "No hint of putting it to any such use was given in the call or in any of its preliminary proceedings. The convention was called to give effect to the principles and policy of the Philadelphia convention, and Republicans who approved those principles concurred in the call. But how did this give that convention the right to commit them in favour of measures alien from its ostensible purpose, and at war with their entire political action? It is utterly preposterous to suppose that they can coöperate with the Democratic party in the accomplishment of any such design."[331]

Five days later Raymond announced his support of the Republican ticket.[332] It was significant of his sincerity that he declined to run again for Congress. Thomas E. Stewart, a conservative Republican, was easily elected in the Sixth District, and Raymond could have had the same vote, but without "the approval of those who originally gave me their suffrage," he said, "a seat in Congress ceases to have any attraction. With the Democratic party, as it has been organised and directed since the rebellion broke out, I have nothing in common."[333] It is impossible not to feel a high respect for the manner in which Raymond, having come to this determination, at once acted upon it. He resented no criticism; he allowed no gleam of feeling to creep into his editorials. Few men could have avoided the temptation to assume the tone of the wronged one who endures much and will not complain. Instinctively, however, Raymond felt the bad taste and unwisdom of such a style, and he joined heartily and good-naturedly in the effort to elect Reuben E. Fenton.

Thurlow Weed, on the other hand, remained a Conservative. Indeed, he went a step farther in the way of irreconciliation, preferring Hoffman and Tammany, he said, to "the reckless, red-radicalism which rules the present Congress.... The men who now lead the radical crusade against the President," he continued, explanatory of his course, "attempted during the war to divide the North. That calamity was averted by the firmness and patriotism of conservative Republicans. In 1864 the same leaders, as hostile to Mr. Lincoln as they are to President Johnson, attempted to defeat his election by a flank movement at Cleveland. Mr. Greeley wrote private letters to prominent Republicans inviting their coöperation in a scheme to defeat Mr. Lincoln's election. The same leaders went to Washington last December with the deliberate intention to quarrel with the President, who up to that day and hour had followed in the footsteps of his illustrious predecessor. Their denunciations have been systematic and fiendish. If, under a keen sense of injustice, he has since erred in judgment or temper, none will deny the sufficiency of the provocation. That it would have been wiser, though less manly, to forbear, I admit. But no nature, merely human, excepting, perhaps, that of Abraham Lincoln, can patiently endure wanton public indignities and contumely."[334]

After the October elections it became apparent that the North would support Congress rather than the President. One cause of distrust was the latter's replacement of Republican office-holders with men noted for disloyalty during the war. Weed complained that the appointment of an obnoxious postmaster in Brooklyn "has cost us thousands of votes in that city."[335] During the campaign Johnson removed twelve hundred and eighty-three postmasters, and relatively as many custom-house employés and internal revenue officers.[336] Among the latter was Philip Dorsheimer of Buffalo. Indeed, the sweep equalled the violent action of the Council of Appointment in the days when DeWitt Clinton and Ambrose Spencer, resenting opposition to Morgan Lewis, sent Peter B. Porter to the political guillotine for supporting Aaron Burr. Such wholesale removals, however, did not arrest the progress of the Republican party. After Johnson's "swing around the circle," Conservatives were reduced to a few prominent men who could not consistently retrace their steps, and to hungry office-holders who were known as "the bread and butter brigade."[337] The Post, a loyal advocate of the President's policy, thought it a melancholy reflection "That its most damaging opponent is the President, who makes a judicious course so hateful to the people that no argument is listened to, and no appeals to reason, to the Constitution, to common sense, can gain a hearing."[338] Henry Ward Beecher voiced a similar lament. The great divine had suffered severe criticism for casting his large influence on the side of Johnson, and he now saw success melting away because of the President's vicious course. "Mr. Johnson just now and for some time past," he wrote, "has been the greatest obstacle in the way of his own views. The mere fact that he holds them is their condemnation with a public utterly exasperated with his rudeness and violence."[339] A few weeks later the Brooklyn minister, tired of the insincerity of the President and of his Philadelphia movement, opened the campaign with a characteristic speech in support of the Republican candidates.[340]

In animation, frequent meetings, and depth of interest, the campaign resembled a Presidential contest. The issues were largely national. As one of the disastrous results of Johnson's reconstruction policy, Republicans pointed to the New Orleans and Memphis massacres, intensified by the charge of the Southern loyalists that "more than a thousand devoted Union citizens have been murdered in cold blood since the surrender of Lee."[341] The horrors of Andersonville, illuminated by eye witnesses, and the delay to try Jefferson Davis, added to the exasperation. On the other hand, Democrats traced Southern conditions to opposition to the President's policy, charging Congress with a base betrayal of the Constitution in requiring the late Confederate States to ratify the Fourteenth Amendment as a condition precedent to the admission of their representatives. The great debate attracted to the rostrum the ablest and best known speakers. For the Republicans, Roscoe Conkling, sounding the accepted key-note, now for the first time made an extended tour of the State, speaking in fourteen towns and cities. On the other hand, true to the traditions of his life, John A. Dix threw his influence on the side of the President.

Hoffman, also, patiently traversed the State, discussing constitutional and legal principles with the care of an able lawyer. There was much in Hoffman himself to attract the enthusiasm of popular assemblages. Kind and sympathetic, with a firm dignity that avoided undue familiarity, he was irresistibly fascinating to men as he moved among them. He had an attractive presence, a genial manner, and a good name. He had, too, a peculiar capacity for understanding and pleasing people, being liberal and spontaneous in his expressions of sympathy, and apparently earnest in his attachment to principle. He was not an orator. He lacked dash, brilliant rhetoric, and attractive figures of speech. He rarely stirred the emotions. But he pleased people. They felt themselves in the presence of one whom they could trust as well as admire. The Democratic party wanted a new hero, and the favourite young mayor seemed cut out to supply the want.

However, Hoffman did not escape the barbed criticism of the Republican press. Raymond had spoken of his ability and purity, and of his course during the war as patriotic.[342] Weed, also, had said that "during the rebellion he was loyal to the government and Union."[343] To overcome these certificates of character, the Tribune declared that "Saturn is not more hopelessly bound with rings than he. Rings of councilmen, rings of aldermen, rings of railroad corporations, hold him in their charmed circles, and would, if he were elected, use his influence to plunder the treasury and the people."[344] It also charged him with being disloyal. In 1866 and for several years later the standing of pronounced Copperheads was similar to that of Tories after the Revolution, and it seriously crippled a candidate for office to be classed among them. Moreover, it was easy to discredit a Democrat's loyalty. To most members of the Union party the name itself clothed a man with suspicion, and the slightest specification, like the outcropping of a ledge of rocks, indicated that much more was concealed than had been shown. On this theory, the Republican press, deeming it desirable, if not absolutely essential, to put Hoffman into the disloyal class, accepted the memory of men who heard him speak at Sing Sing, his native town, in 1864. As they remembered, he had declared that "Democrats only had gone to war;" that "volunteering stopped when Lincoln declared for an abolition policy;" and that he "would advise revolution and resistance to the government" if Lincoln was elected without Tennessee being represented in the electoral college.[345] Other men told how "at one of the darkest periods of the war, Hoffman urged an immediate sale of United States securities, then under his control and held by the sinking fund of the city."[346] In the Tribune's opinion such convenient recollections of unnamed and unknown men made him a "Copperhead."[347]