Twenty Years of Congress, Volume 2 / From Lincoln to Garfield, with a Review of the Events Which Led to the Political Revolution of 1860

by James Gillespie Blaine

CHAPTER XXII.

The Presidential canvass of 1872 was anomalous in its character. Never before or since has a great party adopted as its candidate a conspicuous public man, who was not merely outside its own ranks, but who, in the thick of every political battle for a third of a century, had been one of its most relentless and implacable foes. In the shifting scenes of our varied partisan contests, the demands of supposed expediency had often produced curious results. Sometimes the natural leaders of parties had been set aside; men without experience and without attainments had been brought forward; the settled currents of years had been suddenly changed by the eddy and whirl of the moment; but never before had any eccentricity of political caprice gone so far as to suggest the bitterest antagonist of a party for its anointed chief. It was the irony of logic, and yet it came to pass by the progress of events which were irresistibly logical.

The course of affairs had been threatening a formidable division in the Republican party. It was in some degree a difference of policy, but more largely a clashing of personal interests and ambitions. The Liberal Republican movement, as the effort of dissatisfied partisans was termed, had its nominal origin, though not its exciting cause, in the State of Missouri in 1870. Missouri had presented the complications and conflicts which embarrassed all the Border States. The State had not seceded, but tens of thousands of her people had joined the rebel ranks. To prevent them from sharing in the government while fighting to overthrow it, these allies of the Rebellion had by an amendment to the State constitution been disqualified from exercising the rights of citizenship. The demand was now made that these disabilities imposed during the war should be removed. The Republicans, holding control of the Legislature, divided upon this question. The minority, calling themselves Liberals, under the leadership of Benjamin Gratz Brown and Carl Schurz, combined with the Democrats, and passed amendments which removed the disqualifications. The same combination, as a part of the same movement, elected Brown governor. An alliance, offensive and defensive, between Brown and General Frank Blair, as the chiefs of the Liberal and Democratic wings, cemented the coalition, and gave Missouri over to Democratic control.

The question which divided Missouri was not presented in the same form elsewhere. The disabilities against which the Liberals protested were local, and were ordained in the State constitution. They were wholly under State regulations. No such issue presented itself in the National arena. The laws of the nation imposed no disabilities upon any class of voters, and even the disqualification for office, which rested upon those who had deserted high public trust to join in the Rebellion, could be a vote of Congress be removed. Nevertheless, the creed of the Missouri Liberals, though little applicable outside their own borders, found an echo far beyond. Indeed, it was itself the echo of earlier demands. Mr. Greeley characterized the Republican allies of the Democrats in Missouri as bolters, but he had long before sounded his trumpet cry of "universal amnesty and impartial suffrage." With a political philosophy which is full of interest and suggestion in view of his own impending experiment, he had in 1868 advised the Democrats, if they did not nominate Mr. Pendleton on an extreme Democratic platform, to go to the other extreme and take Chief Justice Chase on a platform of amnesty and suffrage. He did not think they could succeed by any such manoeuvre; but he believed it would commit Democracy to a new departure, and be a long stride in the direction of loyalty and good government. If other leaders did not share his faith, not a few of them accepted his creed. Mr. Greeley's zealous and powerful advocacy had impressed it upon many minds as the true corner-stone of Reconstruction.

But this was obviously not a sufficient cause for division in the Republican ranks. Whatever special significance it might have possessed at an earlier period, the course of events had deprived it of its distinctive force. It was now a matter of sentiment rather than of practical efficacy. The readiness of Congress in responding to every application for the removal of disabilities was itself a generous amnesty. The Fifteenth Amendment had irrevocably established the principle of equal suffrage. With this practical advance, the demand of Liberalism did not leave room for any serious difference. More potent causes were at work. The administration of President Grant in some of its public measures had furnished pretexts, and in some of its political dispensations had supplied reasons, for discontent in various Republican quarters. The pretexts were loudly emphasized: the reasons, more powerful in their effect, were less plainly and directly proclaimed. The former related to questions of public policy and to differences of opinion which would hardly have been irreconcilable: the latter sprang from personal disappointments and involved the rivalry of personal interests, which throughout history have been the pregnant source of the bitterest partisan contention.

The Liberals vigorously denounced what they characterized as the military rule of General Grant. They criticised and condemned the personal phases of the Administration:—they repeated the Democratic charge that it was grasping undue power; they decried the channels through which its influence was felt in the South; they complained that its patronage was appropriated by leaders inimical to themselves; they saw a strong organization growing up, with its centre in the Senate and combining the great States, from which they were somewhat offensively excluded. The deposition of Senator Sumner from the chairmanship of the Committee on Foreign Relations had estranged him and alienated his friends.

In the State of New York the personal currents were especially marked. Governor Fenton had, during his two terms, from 1865 to 1869, acquired the political leadership, and held it until Mr. Conkling's rising power had created a strong rivalry. The struggle of these antagonistic interests appeared in the State Convention of 1870, when Mr. Greeley was defeated for governor, and Stewart L. Woodford was nominated. In 1871 it appeared again in still more decisive form. Through the contention of these opposing wings, two general committees and two organizations of the party had been created in the city of New York, each claiming the seal of regularity, and each sending a full delegation to the State Convention. One represented the friends of Mr. Greeley and Mr. Fenton: the other represented the friends of Mr. Conkling. The importance and significance of the contest were fully recognized. It was a decisive trial of strength between two divisions. Mr. Fenton and Mr. Conkling, colleagues in the Senate, were both present upon the scene of battle. Mr. Fenton had skill and experience in political management: Mr. Conkling was bold and aggressive in leadership. Mr. Fenton guided his partisans from the council chamber through ready lieutenants: Mr. Conkling was upon the floor of the Convention and took command in person. After several persuasive appeals, the Convention was about to compromise the difficulty and admit both delegations with an equal voice and vote, when Mr. Conkling took the floor and by a powerful speech succeeded in changing its purpose. Upon his resolute call the Fenton-Greeley delegation was excluded, and his own friends were left in full control of the Convention and of the party organization.

Under ordinary circumstances such a schism would have seemed altogether unfortunate. At this juncture it looked peculiarly bold and hazardous, for the "Tweed Ring" had complete control of New York; and apparently the only hope, and that a feeble one, of rescuing the city and State from its despotic and unscrupulous thraldom was in a united Republican party. But the "Tweed Ring," in the very height of its arrogant and defiant power, was on the eve of utter overthrow and annihilation. The opportune exposure and conclusive proof of its colossal frauds and robberies came just then. The effect of the startling revelation was such that the most absolute political oligarchy ever organized in this country crumbled to dust in a moment, and the Republicans carried New York for the first time since 1866.

The unexpected success of 1871 crowning the triumph in the State Convention fully confirmed the power of Mr. Conkling as the leader of the party in New York. Mr. Greeley and his followers, already opposed to the National Administration, now gave way to a still more unrestrained hostility. All the antipathy which they felt for their antagonists in the State was transferred to the President. They ascribed their defeat to the free exercise of the Federal power; and the indictment, which they had long been framing, was made more severe from their renewed personal disappointment. In this temper and position they were not alone. The discontent with the National Administration was stimulated and increased by powerful journals like the New-York Tribune, the Chicago Tribune, and the Cincinnati Commercial.

The drift of events placed the protesting Republicans in an embarrassing situation. The renomination of General Grant was seen to be inevitable; and they were left to determine whether they would remain in the party and acquiesce in what they were unable to prevent, or whether they would try from the outside the opposition which was impotent from the inside. They were thus driven by events to extend into the National field the political experiment which had been successfully undertaken in the State of Missouri. The movement assumed apparently large proportions, and for a time wore a threatening look. On the surface it was more wide-spread than the Buffalo Free-soil revolt which defeated the Democratic party in 1848; but its development was different, and the conditions were wholly dissimilar. Now, as then, there was a curious blending of principle and of personal resentment, but the issue presented was less enkindling than the sentiment of resistance to the aggressions of slavery. The element of opposition in the impending schism was, therefore, not as strong at the decisive point as in the earlier outbreak.