Chapter 27 of 48 · 3944 words · ~20 min read

Part 27

I find that many tables of the popular vote are discordant, and I have accepted the table prepared by Mr. Stanwood as he presented it. The Louisiana dispute arose from two returning boards. Governor Warmouth, who was, by virtue of his office, the head of the returning board, had supported Greeley, and the dispute led to two returning boards, each of which made a different return of the official vote of the State, one giving it to Greeley and the other to Grant. Mr. Greeley died soon after the election and before the electoral colleges met, and the minority electors, who had been chosen for Greeley, were entirely at sea, as will be seen by the following table of the electoral vote as returned to Congress. There were many quibbles raised in the joint convention of the two houses in counting and declaring the vote. Mr. Hoar, of Massachusetts, objected to the Georgia votes cast for Greeley because he was dead at the time, and various other technical objections were made, but the table I give shows the vote as it was accepted:

═════════════════════╤════════════════════════════════════════════════════════╦══════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════════ │ PRESIDENT. ║ VICE-PRESIDENT. ├─────────┬──────────┬────────┬────────┬──────────┬──────╫───────┬────────┬─────────┬─────────┬───────┬──────────┬─────────┬──────────┬───────── STATES. │ Ulysses │ Thomas A.│B. Gratz│ Horace │Charles J.│David ║ Henry │B. Gratz│George W.│Alfred H.│John M.│Thomas E. │Nathaniel│William S.│Willis B. │S. Grant,│Hendricks,│ Brown, │Greeley,│ Jenkins, │Davis,║Wilson,│ Brown, │ Julian, │Colquitt,│Palmer,│Bramlette,│P. Banks,│Groesbeck,│ Machen, │ Ill. │ Ind. │ Mo. │ N. Y. │ Ga. │ Ill. ║ Mass. │ Mo. │ Ind. │ Ga. │ Ill. │ Ky. │ Mass. │ O. │ Ky. ─────────────────────┼─────────┼──────────┼────────┼────────┼──────────┼──────╫───────┼────────┼─────────┼─────────┼───────┼──────────┼─────────┼──────────┼───────── Maine │ 7 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 7 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― New Hampshire │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Vermont │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Massachusetts │ 13 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 13 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Rhode Island │ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Connecticut │ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― New York │ 35 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 35 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― New Jersey │ 9 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 9 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Pennsylvania │ 29 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 29 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Delaware │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Maryland │ ―― │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Virginia │ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― West Virginia │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― North Carolina │ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― South Carolina │ 7 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 7 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Georgia │ ―― │ ―― │ 6 │ 3[24]│ 2 │ ―― ║ ―― │ 5 │ ―― │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ 1 │ ―― │ ―― Florida │ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Alabama │ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Mississippi │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Louisiana │ 8[24]│ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 8[24]│ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Louisiana │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 8[24]│ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Texas │ ―― │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Arkansas │ 6[24]│ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 6[24]│ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ 1 │ ―― Missouri │ ―― │ 6 │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ 1 ║ ―― │ 6 │ 5 │ ―― │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Tennessee │ ―― │ 12 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 12 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Kentucky │ ―― │ 8 │ 4 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ ―― │ 8 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ 1 Ohio │ 22 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 22 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Michigan │ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Indiana │ 15 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 15 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Illinois │ 21 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 21 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Wisconsin │ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 10 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Minnesota │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Iowa │ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 11 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Nebraska │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Kansas │ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 5 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Nevada │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― California │ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 6 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― Oregon │ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ║ 3 │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― │ ―― ├─────────┼──────────┼────────┼────────┼──────────┼──────╫───────┼────────┼─────────┼─────────┼───────┼──────────┼─────────┼──────────┼───────── Total (as declared)│ 286 │ 42 │ 18 │ ―― │ 2 │ 1 ║ 286 │ 47 │ 5 │ 5 │ 3 │ 3 │ 1 │ 1 │ 1 ═════════════════════╧═════════╧══════════╧════════╧════════╧══════════╧══════╩═══════╧════════╧═════════╧═════════╧═══════╧══════════╧═════════╧══════════╧═════════

[24] Rejected by Congress.

From the time that Greeley was nominated in May, until probably a month after the meeting of the Democratic convention in July, everything pointed to his triumphant election. Leading men of the party were daily announcing themselves as his supporters, and a tidal wave that would sweep Greeley into the Presidency seemed certain. But in August the great business interests of the country, then rocked in the tempest of inflation created by the war, became appalled at the prospect of the election of Greeley, whose financial and business policy would be but an experiment. All knew that the business of the country was dangerously inflated, and that disaster must come sooner or later, but they felt that it would be delayed by the re-election of Grant, and in the brief period of one month the Greeley tide began its ebb, which doomed him to a most humiliating defeat. Had David Davis been the candidate there would have been no such apprehension in business and monetary circles, and I have never doubted that he would have been elected as the logical successor of Abraham Lincoln.

Although I had opposed the nomination of Greeley, he well understood that it was solely because I felt that I was thus a better friend to him than he was to himself, and I devoted my time to tireless effort to give him success. Outside his editorial duties, in which he was a master of masters, he was as guileless and unsophisticated as a child, and even his closest friends trembled when they regarded his election to the Presidency as more than probable. About the 1st of August, before the revulsion had become visible, I was sent for by Waldo Hutchings to meet the friends of Greeley in conference at the Astor House. Among those present were Mr. Hutchings, Whitelaw Reid, ex-Congressman Cochran, and several others, and they informed me that I had been sent for to call upon Greeley and earnestly admonish him against making any pledges or promises whatever, before the election, as to his Cabinet appointments. They said that if elected President his safety would be in having about him an able, faithful and discreet Cabinet, and they feared that in the kindness of his heart he would become complicated with those who sought to importune him for preferment. In order to keep him from visitors he was then hidden away in a private upstairs room in Brooklyn, where I was directed to call on my mission.

I never saw a happier face than that of Greeley when I met him, as he was then entirely confident of success, and in a very kind and facetious way he reminded me that I had underestimated his strength with the people. When opportunity came in the conversation I suggested to him that a man who was elected President by a combination of opposing political interests would have very grave and complicated duties to perform, and that he should especially avoid any Cabinet complications. With the simplicity and confidence of a child his answer was: “Don’t misunderstand me; you ought to know that I would appoint no Cabinet officer from your section without your approval.” He was surprised to find that I was not there to obtain promises, but to warn him against the peril of saying to others just what he had said to me, and after reviewing the conditions he agreed that his only safety was in avoiding all obligations relating to appointments until the duty confronted him.

He asked me to go to North Carolina and give a week to the campaign in that State, and to that I agreed, although I was in charge of the Pennsylvania battle. That was the last time that I saw Horace Greeley. After the disastrous elections of October, which clearly foreshadowed his defeat, he made New England and Western tours, and delivered speeches which well compare with the grandest utterances of our best statesmanship. But the tide against him was resistless, and while nursing a dying wife and worn out by his ceaseless offices of affection, the blow came that clouded one of the noblest, purest, and ablest of the great men of the land.

On the last day that he put pen to paper he wrote me a brief letter saying that he was “a man of many sorrows,” but that he “could not forget the gallant though luckless struggle” I had made in his behalf. Broken in health, bereaved in his affections, and disappointed in his greatest ambition, his reason toppled from its throne and he died an inmate of an asylum. The two chieftains of the political contest of 1872 were brought together soon after the victor and vanquished were declared, as President Grant stood at the tomb of Horace Greeley to pay the last tribute of himself and the nation to the fallen philanthropist.

THE HAYES-TILDEN CONTEST

1876

The Presidential contest of 1876 brought into the national political arena the strongest personality developed by the Republican party, with the single exception of Abraham Lincoln. James G. Blaine was admittedly the Henry Clay of the Republican party, and both were equally idolized and equally fated. The Republican party had men of profounder intellect than Blaine, but no one who so completed the circle of all the qualities of a popular leader, including masterly ability as a disputant. Like Clay, he was idolized by his friends and most bitterly defamed by his foes, and both were twice defeated by their party for Presidential nominations when the party was successful, and both nominated only to suffer defeat.

With an intimate knowledge of the public men of the last half century, I regard Blaine as the most magnetic man I have ever met. His greeting to friend and stranger was always generous without gush, and at once brought all who had any communication with him into apparently the closest relations. He remembered names of the humblest and most distant of his acquaintances; always knew something of their communities and their interests. It was not the art of a demagogue, but the natural impulse of a big-hearted, big-brained enthusiast, and Blaine was an enthusiast in everything that enlisted his interest. When, in addition to these charming personal qualities, he possessed every attribute of a great popular orator, it is not difficult to understand why Blaine became the favorite of the people. Like all who have reached any measure of distinction in that line, he had bitter and malignant foes, and he could well have said of himself, as Clay once did when overcome by an exhibition of the generosity of his friends, who had paid a note that greatly embarrassed him: “Never had man such friends and such enemies as Henry Clay.” The chief difference between Clay and Blaine was in the fact that the masses did not know Clay from personal contact, while the masses well knew Blaine, and saw him as he was in his every-day life as well as in his great achievements in politics and statesmanship. In another respect Blaine differed widely from Clay. Blaine was a fatalist, and from 1876, when he was first defeated for the Republican nomination for President in Cincinnati, until his name was last presented to the Republican National Convention in 1892, he was oppressed, profoundly oppressed, with the belief that he never could be President; while Clay hoped to realize the great dream of his life, and confidently expected his election to the Presidency until his final defeat in the Philadelphia convention of 1848.

[Illustration: RUTHERFORD B. HAYES]

I saw Blaine soon after the Cincinnati convention of 1876, and talked with him for an hour alone at the Continental Hotel, and I well remember the sad expression of his strong face when he said: “I am the Henry Clay of the Republican party; I can never be President.” He was standing by a window looking out upon the street, with his arm over my shoulder, and he spoke of his hopes and fears with a subdued eloquence that was painfully impressive. He was again defeated for nomination in 1880, thus suffering two defeats when the candidates chosen by the convention were elected. He was nominated in 1884 and defeated, thus completing the circle of the sad history of Clay and the Whig party.

Clay was defeated in the Harrisburg convention of December, 1839, by Harrison, who was elected; he was nominated by the Baltimore convention in 1844, and defeated by Polk; and in 1848 he was again defeated for the nomination in the Philadelphia convention by Taylor, who was elected. Thus both Clay and Blaine were twice defeated in their respective party conventions when their successful competitors were elected, and both nominated when their parties suffered defeats. Soon after Blaine’s nomination, in 1884, I sent a brilliant staff correspondent of my paper, who had intimate personal relations with Blaine, to stay with him at Augusta for several weeks. One pleasant afternoon they walked along the banks of the Kennebec River, when Blaine insensibly diverted the conversation into a soliloquy. He said: “Clay was defeated in two conventions when he could have been elected President, and he was nominated for President when his competitor was elected, and that competitor was one who had not been publicly discussed as a Presidential candidate before the meeting of the Baltimore convention of 1844. I was defeated in two conventions when I could have been elected. I am nominated now with a competitor alike obscure with the competitor of Clay.” He then brought the soliloquy to a climax by holding up his hand and repeating what he seemed to regard as talismanic figures, “1844–1884.” Clay was defeated in 1844, and Blaine was impressed with the belief that he would suffer defeat in 1884.

The prospect for Republican success was not flattering at the opening of the campaign of 1876. The Grant administration was severely criticised and the party greatly weakened by the scandals of the Whiskey Ring, the impeachment of Secretary Belknap, and by the general business depression that began in 1873. The Democrats had carried a large majority in the popular branch of Congress in 1874, and the Republicans were so seriously alarmed at the prospect of losing the election of 1876 that Senator Oliver P. Morton, the ablest of the Republican leaders, made an earnest effort to procure an amendment to the Constitution providing for the election of Presidents by popular vote, but the scheme failed. There was also some disturbance in the Republican party, caused by the evident desire of General Grant to secure a third term. He had written a letter to General Harry White, of Pennsylvania, that was very unlike Grant, whose habit was to express his convictions clearly and tersely, but in this letter he elaborately discussed the question of a third term, without distinctly declaring whether he would or would not accept it.

There was but one conclusion that could be drawn from the letter, and that was that Grant was more than willing to have a third nomination tendered to him. The State convention of Pennsylvania, over which General White presided, had declared with emphasis “opposition to the election to the Presidency of any person for a third term.” General White expected a letter from President Grant in accord with that expression, but the nearest that Grant came to a declination was in the single sentence of the letter, speaking of the third term, he said: “I do not want it any more than I did the first,” to which he added the suggestion that the Constitution put no restriction upon the period a President might serve.

Another pointed admonition to Grant not to press his candidacy was given by the adoption of a resolution in the House, declaring that the established precedent of Washington, who retired from the Presidency after the second term, had become “a part of our Republican system of government, and that any departure from this time-honored custom would be unwise, unpatriotic, and fraught with peril to our free institutions.” This resolution passed by 234 to 18, and was supported not only by all the Democrats, but of the 88 Republicans voting, 70 voted for it. One of the peculiar features of the contest for the Republican nomination was presented in the candidacy of Benjamin H. Bristow, then Secretary of the Treasury, who was not in harmony with the President, and yet refused to resign. He was the candidate of the most violent anti-Grant element.

The Republican convention met at Cincinnati on the 14th of June, and it was one of the most earnest and stubborn contests I have ever witnessed. Blaine had a clear majority of the delegates in the convention, and certainly would have been nominated with anything like fair play. On the Sunday morning immediately before the meeting of the convention, and when all the delegates and the outside political hustlers were earnestly at work in Cincinnati, a dispatch came from Washington that fell like a thunderbolt from an unclouded sky upon Blaine’s friends. He had fallen at the church door when about to enter for service, and was unconscious for some time, and the opponents of Blaine made the most of the misfortune.

The first reports of his illness were greatly exaggerated, and his friends at the convention were much disconcerted and discouraged, but when on Monday morning he telegraphed them himself that his illness was not serious, all were again thoroughly united to force his nomination. The friends of Blaine had a majority of the convention. There was not an hour during the sessions of that body that a majority of the delegates did not desire to nominate him for President, but many were held by instructions or other complications, as was the entire Pennsylvania delegation, made up almost wholly of Blaine men, but instructed for Governor Hartranft. Strange as it may seem, he received the votes of a majority of all the delegates in the convention, but not on any one ballot, and never was the wish of a nominating body so artfully misled from its intent.

The speech of Ingersoll nominating Blaine was the most powerful and impressive I ever heard before a deliberative body, and had a ballot been reached on that day no combination could have prevented Blaine’s success. The struggle was desperate for delay, and the opponents of Blaine, fearing that the session might be extended into the evening, and thus reach a ballot without adjournment, had the gas clandestinely cut off from the building, and an adjournment was enforced by darkness. The enemies of Blaine were very powerful. President Grant was one of the most aggressive and vindictive, and ex-Senator Cameron, who was then Secretary of War, was chairman of the Pennsylvania delegation, and pitiless and tireless in his opposition to Blaine.