Pine to Potomac

by E. K. Cressey

The result was a good many were hit, and hail hurts when it has a fair chance to strike, and as that was well aimed it struck square. Among others, a man from the “old sod,”—an Irishman,—who had in him what is rare in Maine,—whiskey,—so after the speaking he made for Mr. Blaine, determined to try his shillalah upon the cranium of the honorable gentleman, but just as he came up, Bookwalter, who ran for governor, seized him, and gave him the direction of the comet which did not know how it came there, or where it was going. At all events, he did not get the whirl, and twist, and buzz out of him in time to find out where he was, or Mr. Blaine either, or to reform his purpose and execute it.

It is said Henry Clay’s speeches had the most effect at the time they were delivered, and that Daniel Webster’s speeches had more effect a week afterwards, when people had had time to think them over, than at the time they were delivered.

You must combine these views to get at the truth regarding Mr. Blaine’s speeches. They have tremendous effect when delivered, and great power afterward. His illustrations, taken right out of daily life, would catch and hold the thought, and illuminate the mind, and make themselves remembered. They would not let go; like some of the things that have clung to us through life, we don’t hold on to them, they hold on themselves.

A speech we heard from him years ago will never leave us. It was on the currency question, which was discussed for years, and, like Banco’s ghost, would not down.

His first sentence will never be forgotten. It was characteristic of the man, and expressed a great principle of his political philosophy. This was it: “A thing is never settled until it is settled right.”

How true that was of Slavery! how true of the currency question! how true of every great question of moral or religious reform! Until it is settled right it is like a piece of glass in the eye, you cannot get it into a comfortable position; you move it and arrange and re-arrange it, and think now that it is fixed for certain, and just as it ceases to vex you,—like the crooked stick in the fable, so crooked it could not lie still,—it turns over.

In that same speech,—and it moved and swayed thousands then, and clings to them yet like an influence of magic power, moving and swaying them still, in it was a little simple reference to experience he had in California, and it was before specie payments had been resumed, but they were on a gold basis out on the Pacific coast. He had gone into a bank to get a check of three hundred dollars cashed, and he said, “Give me gold,” and they gave him gold, and he divided it up and put it in all his pockets to balance the load, and he went about the city calling here and there, going up long stairways, and over great establishments, and all the while that gold was getting heavier. He would change it about and carry some in his hand. It was such a luxury to have gold and not pay any premium on it. But finally it was too much for him, and in a sort of desperation he went back to the bank, and asked them if they would not give him greenbacks for that gold, and the man said “Yes,” and he took the little roll of greenbacks and put it in his vest-pocket, and was not bothered any more. He acted out the scene with dramatic effect. The incident gave all a new love for the greenback, and less thirst for gold.

It was his delight all through that speech to get questions from the audience, and so settle their difficulties by giving them just the information desired.

His power with an audience lay largely in this method of questioning. He drew near to them, or rather drew them near to him, was helpful and kindly; he would stop in his speech and talk with anyone in the audience that had sensible questions to ask, and so was down to earth all the time, and not up among the clouds “careering on the gale.” And thus he really did something, really accomplished it, and so made progress. He did not fly any eagle, he did not have one along.

Some grocer or laboring man in the crowd asked a question about the revenue on sugar, which Mr. Blaine did not get at first, and an aristocrat on the platform said, “O, never mind him, go on with your speech,” but he had said “What,” and was eagerly listening to get the man’s thought, and said quickly to the honorable gentleman, “Keep still,” and waved his hand back at him to keep quiet, and he heard the laboring man’s question fairly, and answered it, too.