Chapter 34

WILLIAM H. SEWARD AND THURLOW WEED

1830

Although the election in 1828 brought hopeless defeat to the National Republicans, apparently it imparted increased confidence and vigour to anti-Masonry. For a time, this movement resembled the growth of abolitionism at a later day, people holding that a secret society, which sought to paralyse courts, by closing the mouths of witnesses and otherwise unnerving the arm of justice, threatened the existence of popular government. The moral question, too, appealed strongly to persons prominent in social, professional, and church life, who increased the excitement by renouncing masonic ties and signifying their conversion to the new gospel of anti-Masonry. Cadwallader D. Colden, formerly the distinguished mayor of New York and a lawyer of high reputation, wrote an effective letter against Free Masonry, which was supplemented by the famous document of David Barnard, a popular Baptist divine of Chautauqua County. Henry Dana Ward established the _Anti-Masonic Review_ in New York City, and Frederick Whittlesey became equally efficient and influential as editor of the Rochester _Republican_.

But the man who led the fight and became the centre from which all influences emanated was Thurlow Weed. Early in the struggle, as a member of the Morgan committee, he investigated the crime of 1826. Soon after, he founded the _Anti-Masonic Enquirer_ of Rochester, whose circulation, unparalleled in those days, quickly included the western and northern counties of New York, and the neighbouring States of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Vermont. Weed had been slow to yield to the influences which carried the question into politics, but, once having determined to appeal to the ballot-box, he set to work to strengthen and enlarge the party. It became a quasi-religious movement, ministers and churches, without any very far-reaching hopes and plans, labouring to bring about a spirit which should induce men to renounce Masonry; and in their zeal they worked with the singleness of thought and the accepted methods that dominate the revivalist and temperance advocate.

The aim of Thurlow Weed was to reach the people, and it mattered not how often he had to bear defeat, or the sneers of older politicians and an established press; he flung himself into the work with an indomitable spirit and an entire disregard of trouble and pain. Weed was a born fighter. He saw no visions, he believed in no omens, and he had no thought of bearing a charmed life; but he seems to have been indifferent to changes of season or the assaults of men, as he travelled from one end of the State to the other regardless of inclement weather, answering attacks with rough and rasping sarcasms, and meeting every crisis with the candour and courage of a John Wesley. One reads in his autobiography, almost with a feeling of incredulity, of the toil cheerfully borne and the privations eagerly endured while the guiding member of the Morgan committee.

Weed proved a great captain, not only in directing and inspiring anti-masonic movements, but in rallying to his standard a body of young men destined to occupy conspicuous places in the State and in the nation. Among those entering the Assembly, in 1829, were Philo C. Fuller of Livingston and Millard Fillmore of Erie. When Weed first met him, in 1824, Fuller was a law clerk in James Wadsworth's office, only twenty-three years old. But Weed noted his fitness for public place, and in 1828 had him nominated and elected to the Assembly.

Millard Fillmore was a year or two older. His youth, like that of Weed, had been crowded with everything except schooling. He learned the clothier's trade, he was apprenticed to a wool-carder, and he served his time at the woodpile, in the harvest field, and as chore boy. Only at odd moments did he get an education; but when he began studying law and teaching school he quickly evidenced a strength of intellect that distinguished him throughout life. Weed met him at an Adams convention in Buffalo, in 1828, and so favourably impressed was he with his ability that he suggested his nomination for the Assembly.

One year later, Weed insisted upon the nomination of Albert H. Tracy, of Erie, for the Senate. Tracy, who had already served six years in Congress, had the advantage of being well born and well educated. His father, a distinguished physician of Connecticut, urged him to adopt the profession of medicine, but when about ready for a degree, he entered his brother's law office at Madison, New York, and, in 1815, upon his admission to the bar, settled in Buffalo. He was then twenty-two years old. Four years later he entered Congress. He had earned this quick start by good ability; and so acceptably did he maintain himself, that, in spite of the acrimony existing between Clintonian and Bucktail, his name was regarded with much favour in 1825 as the successor of Rufus King in the United States Senate. Tracy was a man of marked ability. Though neither brilliant nor distinguished as a public speaker, he was a skilful advocate, easy and natural; with the help of a marvellous memory, and a calm, philosophic temperament, he ranked among the foremost lawyers of his day. Like James Tallmadge, he was inordinately ambitious for public life, and his amiability admirably fitted him for it; but like Tallmadge, he was not always governed by principle so much as policy. He showed at times a lamentable unsteadiness in his leadership, listening too often to the whispers of cunning opponents, and too easily separating himself from tried friends. In 1838, he practically left his party; and, soon after, he ceased to practise his profession, burying a life which had promised great usefulness and a brilliant career. In mien, size, bearing, visage, and conversation he was the counterpart of Thomas Jefferson when about the same age--a likeness of which Tracy was fully conscious.

Tracy's nomination to the Senate in 1829 came as a great surprise and a greater gratification. He had not taken kindly to the anti-masonic party. Only the year before, he dissuaded John Birdsall from accepting its nomination to Congress, because of the obloquy sure to follow defeat; but its strength, evidenced in the campaign of 1828, opened his eyes; and, while absent in Albany, unsuccessfully seeking a judgeship from Governor Throop, Thurlow Weed had him nominated. On his way home, he stopped at Rochester to call upon the great apostle of anti-Masonry, reaching the house before sunrise. "He was wrapped in a long camlet cloak," says Weed, "and wore an air of depression that betokened some great disappointment. 'You have been east?' I asked, for I had not heard of his absence from home. 'Yes,' he answered. 'Then you don't know what happened at Batavia yesterday?' He replied in the negative, and I continued: 'We had a convention and nominated a candidate for senator.' When he laughingly inquired, 'Who?' I said, 'Why, we nominated you.' He instantly jumped two feet from the floor and whooped like an Indian. Then, with brightened countenance and undisguised elation of spirit that he was to have a seat in the Senate for four years, he informed me of his disappointment in not obtaining either the judgeship, or the presidency of the branch of the United States Bank about to be established at Buffalo."[260]

[Footnote 260: _Autobiography of Thurlow Weed_, p. 340.]

Thus far, Thurlow Weed had won more reputation than money in Rochester. He dwelt in a cheap house in an obscure part of the village. Sometimes he had to borrow clothes to be presentable. "One day," says Henry B. Stanton, "I was standing in the street with him and Frederick Whittlesey when his little boy came up and said: 'Father, mother wants a shilling to buy some bread.' Weed put on a queer look, felt in his pockets, and remarked: 'That is a home appeal, but I'll be hanged if I've got the shilling.' Whittlesey drew out a silver dollar and gave the boy who ran off like a deer."[261] Yet, at that moment, Weed with his bare arms spattered with printer's ink, was the greatest power in the political life of Western New York.

[Footnote 261: H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 25.]

But a scheme more helpful to Weed and to his party than the election of young men of large promise was just now on foot. The need of a newspaper at Albany, to represent the sentiments of the Anti-Masons had long been recognised; and, to enable Weed to establish it, he had been re-elected to the Assembly in the autumn of 1829. In the course of the winter the project quickly took shape; a fund of twenty-five hundred dollars was subscribed; and on March 22, 1830, appeared the first number of the Albany _Evening Journal_, in which were soon to be published the sparkling paragraphs that made it famous.[262] Weed's salary as editor was fixed at seven hundred and fifty dollars. The paper was scarcely larger than the cloud "like a man's hand;" and its one hundred and seventy subscribers, scattered from Buffalo to New York, became somewhat disturbed by the acrimonious and personal warfare instantly made upon it by Edwin Croswell of the _Argus_.

[Footnote 262: "Writing slowly and with difficulty, Weed was for twenty years the most sententious and pungent writer of editorial paragraphs on the American press."--Horace Greeley, _Recollections of a Busy Life_, p. 312.]

Croswell and Weed had been boys together at Catskill. They were neither intimates nor equals, although of the same age; for young Croswell had the advantage of position and education given him by his father, then publisher of the _Recorder_. To Weed, only such work came as a bare-footed, ragged urchin of eleven was supposed to be capable of doing. This was in 1808. The two boys did not meet again for twenty years, and then only to separate as Hamilton and Burr had parted, on the road to White Plains, in the memorable retreat from Manhattan in September, 1776. But Croswell, retaining the quiet, studious habits that characterised his youth, climbed rapidly. He had become editor of the _Argus_, state printer, and one of the ablest and most zealous members of the Albany Regency. He possessed a judgment that seemed almost inspired, with such untiring industry and rare ability that for years the Democratic press of the country looked upon the _Argus_ as its guiding star.

Against this giant in journalism Thurlow Weed was now to be opposed. "You have a great responsibility resting upon your shoulders," wrote the accomplished Frederick Whittlesey, "but I know no man who is better able to meet it."[263] This was the judgment of a man who had personal knowledge of the tremendous power of Weed's pen. In his later years, Weed mellowed and forgave and forgot, but when he went to Albany, and for years before, as well as after, he seemed to enjoy striking an adversary. An explosion followed every blow. His sarcasms had needle-points, and his wit, sometimes a little gross, smarted like the sting of wasps. Often his attacks were so severe and merciless that the distress of his opponents created sympathy for them.

[Footnote 263: _Autobiography of Thurlow Weed_, p. 361.]

Very early in the _Evening Journal's_ history Croswell invited Weed's fire. It is doubtful if the _Argus'_ publisher thought or cared much about the character of the reply. Editors are not usually sensitive to the stricture of others. But when Weed's retort came, the rival writers remained without personal or business relations until, years afterward, Croswell, financially crushed by the failure of the Albany Canal Bank, and suspected of dishonesty, implored Weed's assistance to avoid a criminal indictment. In the meantime subscriptions poured into the _Journal_. The people recognised a fighter; the thoughtful distinguished a powerful mind; and politicians discovered such a genius for leadership that Albany became a political centre for the National Republicans as it was for the Bucktails. Within ten years after its establishment, the _Evening Journal_ had the largest circulation of any political paper in the United States.

The birth year of the _Journal_ also witnessed a reorganisation of the Anti-Masons. Heretofore, this party had declared only its own peculiar principles, relying for success upon the aid of the National Republicans; but, as it now sympathised with Henry Clay upon questions of governmental policy, especially the protection of American industry, it became evident that, to secure the greatest political strength, its future policy must be ardent antagonism to the principles of the Jackson party. Accordingly, at the Utica convention, held in August, 1830, it adopted a platform substantially embracing the views of the National Republicans. In acknowledgment of this change, the Adams party accepted the nomination of Francis Granger for governor and Samuel Stevens, a prominent lawyer of Albany City and the son of a distinguished Revolutionary officer, for lieutenant-governor.

The Bucktails did not get on so smoothly at their convention, held at Herkimer, on September 8. Erastus Root thought if Van Buren could afford to take the nomination away from Acting Governor Pitcher, he might deprive Enos T. Throop of the same honour. Throop, who was acting governor in the place of Van Buren, had proved a feeble executive. Besides, it could not be forgotten that Throop suffered Van Buren to humiliate Pitcher simply to make his own election sure. But Throop had friends if nothing else. On the first ballot, he received seventy-eight votes to forty for Root. The wrangle over lieutenant-governor proved less irritating, and Edward P. Livingston, after several ballots, secured seventy-seven votes.

These contests created unusual bitterness. Root had the offer of support from a working men's convention; and his failure to secure the Herkimer nomination left the working men, especially in New York City, in no mood to support the Bucktail choice. All this greatly encouraged the Anti-Masons. Granger and Stevens commanded the cordial support of the National Republicans, while Throop and Livingston were personally unpopular. Throop had the manners of DeWitt Clinton without a tithe of his ability, and Livingston, stripped of his family's intellectual traits, exhibited only its aristocratic pride. But there were obstacles in the way of anti-masonic success. Among other things, Francis Granger had become chairman of an anti-masonic convention at Philadelphia, which Weed characterised as a mistake. "The men from New York who urged it are stark mad," he wrote; "more than fifty thousand electors are now balancing their votes, and half of them want an excuse to vote against you."[264] Whether this "mistake" had the baleful influence that Weed anticipated, could not, of course, be determined. The returns, however, proved a serious disappointment.[265] Granger had carried the eighth or "infected district" by the astounding majority of over seven thousand in each of the first five districts. In the sixth district the anti-masonic vote fell over four thousand. It was evident that the Eastern masons, who had until now acted with the National Republicans, preferred the rule of the Regency to government by Anti-Masons.

[Footnote 264: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 39.]

[Footnote 265: Throop, 128,842; Granger, 120,361.--_Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]

The year that witnessed this disheartening defeat of the Anti-Masons, welcomed into political life a young man of great promise, destined to play, for the next forty years, a conspicuous part in the history of his country. William Henry Seward was twenty-nine years old when elected to the State Senate; but to all appearances he might have been eight years younger. He was small, slender, boyish, punctilious in attire, his blue eyes and finely moulded chin and mouth giving an unconscious charm to his native composure, which attracted with a magnetism peculiarly its own; but there was nothing in his looks or manner to indicate that the chronicle of the century would record his name among the country's most prominent statesmen. He had neither the bold, full forehead of Marcy, nor the tall, commanding form of Talcott, although the boyish face suggested the refinement of Butler's features, softened by the blue eyes and light sandy hair. The only noticeable feature was the nose, neither Roman nor Semitic, but long, prominent and aggressive, with nostrils slightly distended. In after years, the brow grew heavier, the eyes more deeply set, and the chin, slightly drawn, gave greater prominence to the jaw and firmness to the mouth.

In 1830, Seward had not yet made his great legal contest in the Freeman case, setting up the then novel and unpopular defence of insanity, and establishing himself as one of the ablest and grittiest lawyers in the State. But early in that year, he made a speech, at an anti-masonic conference, which won the confidence of the delegates sufficiently to admit him to leadership with Thurlow Weed, Francis Granger, John C. Spencer, Frederick Whittlesey, William H. Maynard, and Albert H. Tracy. He was the youngest man in the council, younger than Whittlesey, four years younger than Weed, and eight years younger than Tracy. Granger and John C. Spencer belonged almost to an earlier generation. Millard Fillmore was one year his senior; but Fillmore, whose force and feeling made for conservatism, had not yet entered that coterie of brilliant anti-masonic leaders.

Seward was neither precocious nor gifted beyond his years. He had spirit and gifts, with sufficient temper and stubbornness to defend him against impositions at home or in college; but the love for adventure and the strenuous life, that characterised Weed's capricious youth, were entirely absent. As a boy, Weed, untidy even to slovenliness, explored the mountain and the valley, drifted among the resolute lads of the town, and lingered in gardens and orchards, infinitely lovable and capable of the noblest tenderness. On the contrary, Seward was precise, self-restrained, possessing the gravity and stillness of a youth who husbanded his resources as if conscious of physical frailty, yet wholesome and generous, and once, at least, splendidly reckless in his race for independence of a father who denied him the means of dressing in the fashion of other college students. By the time he reached the age of nineteen, he had run away to Georgia, taught school six months, studied law six months, and graduated with honour from Union College. Two years later, in 1822, he was admitted to the bar, and, having accepted a partnership with Elijah Miller, located at Auburn. To make this arrangement the more binding, he married his partner's daughter and became a member of his family.

Seward retained the political affiliations of his father, who was a Republican and a Bucktail, until the journey on the canal to Auburn opened his eyes to the importance of internal improvements. This so completely changed him into a Clintonian, that, in the autumn of 1824, he assailed the Albany Regency with great vigour and voted for DeWitt Clinton for governor. Four years later, he presided over a state convention of young National Republicans, favourable to the re-election of John Quincy Adams; and then witnessed that party's defeat and dispersion under the murderous fire of the Jackson forces, aided by Southwick and Crary on the anti-masonic ticket. Seward had not taken kindly to the anti-masonic party. What would have been his final attitude toward it is problematical had he not fallen under the influence of Weed. The first meeting of this illustrious pair, a very casual meeting, occurred in the summer of 1824 while Seward was passing through Rochester on his return from a visit to Niagara Falls. A wheel of the coach came off, and among the curious who quickly assembled "one taller and more effective, while more deferential and sympathising than the rest," says Seward, in his autobiography, "lent his assistance."[266] This was Thurlow Weed. "My acquaintance with William H. Seward grew rapidly on subsequent occasions," adds Weed, "when he was called to Rochester on professional business. Our views in relation to public affairs, and our estimate of public men, rarely differed, and in regard to anti-Masonry he soon became imbued with my own opinions."[267]

[Footnote 266: _Autobiography of William H. Seward_, p. 56.]

[Footnote 267: _Autobiography of Thurlow Weed_, p. 137.]

This was the key that opened the way to great achievement. Tracy listened to others and was lost; Fillmore finally preferred the judgment of his associates in Washington, and is to-day without a statue even in his own home; but Seward kept closely in touch with the man whose political judgment inspired him with confidence. "Come now and let us reason together," said Weed, and together these two friends worked out the policy of success. "I saw in him, in a remarkable degree," continued Weed, "rapidly developing elements of character which could not fail to render him eminently useful in public life. I discerned also unmistakable evidences of stern integrity, earnest patriotism, and unswerving fidelity. I saw also in him a rare capacity for intellectual labour, with an industry that never tired and required no relaxation; to all of which was added a purity and delicacy of habit and character almost feminine."[268]

[Footnote 268: _Autobiography of Thurlow Weed_, p. 423.]

In his _Autobiography_, Seward says he joined the anti-masonic party because he thought it the only active political organisation opposed to Jackson and Van Buren, whose policy seemed to him to involve "not only the loss of our national system of revenue, and of enterprises of state and national improvement, but also the future disunion of the States, and ultimately the universal prevalence of slavery."[269] Once an Anti-Mason, he became, like Weed, a zealous and aggressive member of the party. He embodied its creed in resolutions, he attended its first national convention at Philadelphia, he visited John Quincy Adams at Quincy--just then an anti-masonic candidate for Congress--he aided in the establishment of the Albany _Evening Journal_, and, a little later, as a delegate to the party's second national convention at Baltimore, he saw Chief Justice Marshall upon the platform, sat beside Thaddeus Stevens, and voted for William Wirt as an anti-masonic candidate for President. It was during his attendance upon the Philadelphia convention that Thurlow Weed had him nominated, without his knowledge, for state senator. "While stopping at Albany on my way south," he says,[270] "Weed made some friendly but earnest inquiries concerning my pecuniary ability, whether it was sufficient to enable me to give a portion of my time to public office. When I answered my ability was sufficient, but I had neither expectation nor wish for office, he replied that he had learned from my district enough to induce him to think it possible that the party might desire my nomination to the Senate."

[Footnote 269: _Autobiography of William H. Seward_, p. 74.]

[Footnote 270: _Autobiography of William H. Seward_, p. 79.]

Thurlow Weed had many claims to the regard of his contemporaries, but the greatest was the intelligence that enabled him to discern the rising genius of a recruit to anti-Masonry whose name was to help make illustrious any cause which he served.