It happened in this wise: I was a member of a little club consisting of a few gentlemen of the same way of thinking in politics, who dined together and discussed current events once or twice a month. At one of those dinners, soon after the presidential election of 1868, the conversation turned upon the impending election of Senator Henderson's successor and the candidacy of Mr. Drake's favorite, General Loan. We were all agreed in heartily disliking Mr. Drake's kind of statesmanship. We likewise agreed in disliking the prospect of seeing Mr. Drake duplicated in the Senate—indeed fully duplicated—by the election of Mr. Loan. But how prevent it? We all recognized, regretfully, the absolute impossibility of getting the Legislature to reëlect Mr. Henderson. But what other candidate was there to oppose to Mr. Loan? One of our table turned round to me and said: "You!" The others instantly and warmly applauded.
The thought that I, a comparative newcomer in Missouri, should be elected senator in preference to others, who had been among the leaders in the great crisis of the State only a few years ago, seemed to me extravagant, and I was by no means eager to expose myself to what I considered almost certain defeat. But my companions insisted, and I finally agreed that a "feeler" might be put out in the Globe-Democrat, the leading Republican journal in St. Louis, of which Colonel William M. Grosvenor, a member of our little table-company, was the editor in chief. The number of Republican papers in the State which responded approvingly was surprisingly large, and I soon found myself in the situation of an acknowledged candidate for the senatorship "in the hands of his friends." It seemed that when "stumping" the State in the last campaign, I had won more favor with the country people than I myself was aware of. Still, my chances of success would have been slim, had not my principal adversary, Senator Drake, appeared in person upon the scene.
When he learned that my candidacy was developing strength, he hurried from Washington to Jefferson City, the capital of Missouri, to throw the weight of his personal influence with the Legislature into the scale against me. By his side appeared General Loan. There was then perfect justification for me to be on the ground with some of my friends. My manager was Colonel Grosvenor, the editor of the Globe-Democrat, an uncommonly bright, genial, active, and energetic young man. I could not have had a more efficient and more faithful champion, or a more skilful tactician. In their talks with members of the Legislature my opponents were reckless in the extreme. They denounced me as a foreign intruder, as a professional revolutionist, as a "German infidel," as a habitual drunkard, and what not.
Our plan of campaign was very simple: Not a word against my competitor, General Loan; no champagne or whisky, nor even cigars; no noisy demonstrations; no promises of offices or other pledges in case of my election; but a challenge to General Loan and also to Senator Drake, if he would accept it, to meet me in public debate before the day when the caucus of the Republican majority for the nomination of a senatorial candidate was to be held. The campaign attracted much attention throughout the North and was commented upon in the newspapers, mostly in my favor. There were some symptoms of friendly zeal in my behalf. My friend Sigismund Kaufmann in New York telegraphed to me that if I needed any money for my campaign he would put $10,000 at my disposal. I telegraphed back my thanks, but declined the money, since I had no use for it. My reliance was upon the public debate.
A Joint Debate for a Senatorship
Senator Drake accepted the challenge for himself and General Loan. Arrangements were made for two meetings on two consecutive evenings. On the first evening I was to open with a speech of a certain length, and on the second evening Loan and Drake were to answer me, and I was to close. The announcement, as it went over the State, attracted from the country districts—as well as the cities—so many of the friends of the two candidates who wished to witness what they considered a great event, that the hotels of the State capital were crowded to the utmost.
Remembering the debate between Lincoln and Douglas at Quincy, Illinois, to which I had listened ten years before, I kept my opening speech in a calm, somewhat tame defensive tone, reserving my best ammunition for my closing argument and putting forth in a somewhat challenging manner only a few sharp points which I wished Drake to take up the next evening. The effect of my speech was satisfactory in a double sense. My supporters were well pleased with the courtesy and moderation with which I had stated my position and repelled certain attacks, and Mr. Drake was jubilant. He could not conceal his anticipation of triumph. Before a large crowd he said in a loud voice: "That man was described to me as a remarkable orator, something like Cicero and Demosthenes combined. But what did we hear? A very ordinary talk. Gentlemen, to-morrow night about this hour General Carl Schurz will be as dead as Julius Cæsar!" When I heard this, I was sure that his speech would be as bitter, overbearing, and dictatorial as I could wish, and that thus he would deliver himself into my hands.
The next evening the great hall of the assembly was crowded to suffocation. General Loan spoke first. His speech was entirely decent in tone but quite insignificant in matter. Its only virtue was its brevity. It received only that sort of applause which any audience will grant to any respectable man's utterance which is not too long and not offensive, even if uttered in a voice too low to be heard.
Senator Drake then mounted the rostrum with a defiant air, as of one who would make short work of his antagonists. After a few remarks concerning his attitude on the negro question, he took me in hand. Who was I, to presume to be a candidate for the Senate? He would, indeed, like to inquire a little into my past career, were it not that he would have to travel too far—to Germany, and to various places in this country, to find out whether there was not much to my discredit. But he had no time for so long a journey, however instructive such a search might be. This insinuation was received by the audience with strong signs of displeasure, which, however, stirred up Mr. Drake to greater energy. Then he launched into a violent attack on the Germans of Missouri, for whose political character and conduct he made me responsible. He denounced them as an ignorant crowd, who did not understand English, read only their German newspapers, and were led by corrupt and designing rings; as marplots and mischief-makers who could never be counted upon, and whose presence in the Republican party hurt that party more than it helped it. Finally, after having expressed his contempt for the newspapers and the politicians who supported my candidacy, he closed with an elaborate eulogy of General Loan and of himself, the length of which seemed to tire the audience, for it was interrupted by vociferous calls for me coming from all parts of the house. The immediate effect of Mr. Drake's speech was perceptibly unfavorable to him and his candidate—especially his bitter denunciation of the Germans and of a large part of the Republican party which advocated my election, for many members of the Legislature remembered how important an element of their constituency those same Germans formed, and how much their political standing depended on those same newspapers.
When I rose, the audience received me with a round of uproarious cheers. I succeeded in putting myself into relations of good humor even with my opponents by introducing myself as "a young David who, single-handed and without any weapon except his sling and a few pebbles in his pouch, had to meet in combat two heavily armed Goliaths at once." The audience laughed and cheered again. I next brushed away Mr. Loan's "harmless" speech with a few polite phrases and "passed from the second to the principal."