Chapter 47

THE FREE-SOIL CAMPAIGN

1847-1848

The fearless stand of Preston King in supporting the Wilmot Proviso[368] took root among the Radicals, as Seward prophesied, and the exclusion of slavery from territory obtained from Mexico, became the dominant Democratic issue in the State. Because of their approval of this principle the Radicals were called "Barnburners." Originally, these factional differences, as noted elsewhere, grew out of the canal controversy in 1838 and in 1841, the Conservatives wishing to devote the surplus canal revenues to the completion of the canals--the Radicals insisting upon their use to pay the state debt. Under this division, Edwin Croswell, William C. Bouck, Daniel S. Dickinson, Henry A. Foster, and Horatio Seymour led the Conservatives; Michael Hoffman, John A. Dix, and Azariah C. Flagg marshalled the Radicals. When the Conservatives, "hankering" after the offices, accepted unconditionally the annexation of Texas, they were called Hunkers. In like manner, the Radicals who sustained the Wilmot Proviso now became Barnburners, being likened to the farmer who burned his barn to get rid of rats. William L. Marcy, Silas Wright, Benjamin F. Butler, and the Van Burens took no part in the canal controversy; but after Martin Van Buren's defeat in 1844 Marcy became a prominent Hunker and entered Polk's Cabinet, while Wright, Butler, and the Van Burens joined the Barnburners.

[Footnote 368: "To understand the issue presented by the Wilmot Proviso it must be observed that its advocates sustained it on the distinct ground that, as slavery had been abolished throughout the Mexican Republic, the acquisition of territory without prohibiting slavery would, on the theory asserted by the Southern States, lead to its restoration where it had ceased to exist, and make the United States responsible for its extension to districts in which universal freedom had been established by the fundamental law."--Morgan Dix, _Memoirs of John A. Dix_, Vol. 1, p. 205.]

Hostilities between the Hunkers and Barnburners, growing out of the slavery question, began at the Democratic state convention, which convened at Syracuse, September 7, 1847.[369] Preceding this meeting both factions had been active, but the Hunkers, having succeeded in seating a majority of the delegates, promptly voted down a resolution embodying the principle of the Wilmot Proviso. Then the Barnburners seceded. There was no parleying. The breach opened like a chasm and the secessionists walked out in a body. This action was followed by an address, charging that the anti-slavery resolution had been defeated by a fraudulent organisation, and calling a mass convention for October 26, "to avow their principles and consult as to future action." This meeting became a gathering of Martin Van Buren's friends. It did not nominate a ticket, which would have defeated the purpose of the secession; but, by proclaiming the principles of Free-soil, it struck the keynote of popular sentiment; divided the Democratic party, and let the Whigs into power by thirty thousand majority. It made Millard Fillmore comptroller, Christopher Morgan secretary of state, Alvah Hunt treasurer, Ambrose L. Jordan attorney-general, and Hamilton Fish lieutenant-governor to fill the vacancy occasioned by Addison Gardiner's election to the new Court of Appeals. The president of this seceders' mass-meeting was Churchill C. Cambreling, an old associate of Martin Van Buren, but its leader and inspiration was John Van Buren. He drafted the address to the people, his eloquence made him its chief orator, and his enthusiasm seemed to endow him with ubiquity.

[Footnote 369: "In the fall of 1847 I was a spectator at the Democratic state convention, held in Syracuse. The great chiefs of both factions were on the ground, and never was there a fiercer, more bitter and relentless conflict between the Narragansetts and Pequods than this memorable contest between the Barnburners and Hunkers. Silas Wright was the idol of the Barnburners. He had died on the 27th of the preceding August--less than two weeks before. James S. Wadsworth voiced the sentiments of his followers. In the convention some one spoke of doing justice to Mr. Wright. A Hunker sneeringly responded, 'It is too late; he is dead.' Springing upon a table Wadsworth made the hall ring as he uttered the defiant reply: 'Though it may be too late to do justice to Silas Wright, it is not too late to do justice to his assassins.' The Hunkers laid the Wilmot Proviso upon the table, but the Barnburners punished them at the election."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 159.]

John Van Buren was unlike the ordinary son of a President of the United States. He did not rely upon the influence or the prestige of his father.[370] He was able to stand alone--a man of remarkable power, who became attorney-general in 1845, and for ten years was a marked figure in political circles, his bland and convulsing wit enlivening every convention and adding interest to every campaign. But his chief interest was in his profession. He was a lawyer of great distinction, the peer and often the opponent of Charles O'Conor and William H. Seward. "He possessed beyond any man I ever knew," said Daniel Lord, "the power of eloquent, illustrative amplification, united with close, flexible logic."[371]

[Footnote 370: "There could hardly be a wider contrast between two men than the space that divided the Sage of Lindenwald from Prince John. In one particular, however, they were alike. Each had that personal magnetism that binds followers to leaders with hooks of steel. The father was grave, urbane, wary, a safe counsellor, and accustomed to an argumentative and deliberate method of address that befitted the bar and the Senate. Few knew how able a lawyer the elder Van Buren was. The son was enthusiastic, frank, bold, and given to wit, repartee, and a style of oratory admirably adapted to swaying popular assemblies. The younger Van Buren, too, was a sound lawyer."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 175.]

[Footnote 371: _History of the Bench and Bar of New York_, Vol. 1, p. 505.]

John Van Buren had, as well, a picturesque side to his life. In college he was expert at billiards, the centre of wit, and the willing target of beauty. Out of college, from the time he danced with the Princess Victoria at a court ball in London at the age of twenty-two, to the end of his interesting and eventful life, he was known as "Prince John." His remarkable gifts opened the door to all that was ultra as well as noble. He led in the ballroom, he presided at dinners, he graced every forum, and he moved in the highest social circles. Men marvelled at his knowledge, at his unfailing equanimity, and at his political strength; but even to those who were spellbound by his eloquence, or captivated by his adroit, skilful conduct of a lawsuit, he was always "Prince John." There was not a drop of austerity or intolerance or personal hatred in him. The Dutch blood of his father, traced from the Princes of Orange to the days of the New Netherland patroons, kept him within the limits of moderation if not entirely unspotted, and his finished manners attracted the common people as readily as they charmed the more exclusive.

John Van Buren's acceptance of Free-soilism did not emanate from a dislike of slavery; nor did Free-soil principles root themselves deeply in his nature. His father had opposed the admission of Texas, and the son, in resentment of his defeat, hoping to make an anti-slavery party dominant in the State, if not in the nation, proclaimed his opposition to the extension of slavery. But, after the compromise measures of 1850 had temporarily checked the movement, he fell back into the ranks of the Hunkers, aiding President Pierce's election, and sustaining the pro-slavery administration of Buchanan. In after years Van Buren frequently explained his connection with the Free-soil revolt by telling a story of the boy who was vigorously removing an overturned load of hay at the roadside. Noticing his wild and rapid pitching, a passer-by inquired the cause of his haste. The boy, wiping the perspiration from his brow as he pointed to the pile of hay, replied, "Stranger, _dad's under there_!"

But whatever reasons incited John Van Buren to unite with the Free-soilers, so long as he advocated their principles, he was the most brilliant crusader who sought to stay the aggressiveness of slavery. From the moment he withdrew from the Syracuse convention, in the autumn of 1847, until he finally accepted the compromise measures of 1850, he was looked upon as the hope of the Barnburners and the most dangerous foe of the Hunkers. Even Horatio Seymour was afraid of him. He did not advocate abolition; he did not treat slavery in the abstract; he did not transcend the Free-soil doctrine. But he spoke with such power and brilliancy that Henry Wilson, afterward Vice President, declared him "the bright particular star of the revolt."[372] He was not an impassioned orator. He spoke deliberately, and rarely with animation or with gesture; and his voice, high pitched and penetrating, was neither mellow nor melodious. But he was marvellously pleasing. His perennial wit kept his audiences expectant, and his compact, forceful utterances seemed to break the argument of an opponent as a hammer shatters a pane of glass. So great was his popularity at this time, that his return to the Democratic party became a personal sorrow to every friend of the anti-slavery cause. "Indeed, such was the brilliant record he then made," says Henry Wilson, "that had he remained true to the principles he advocated, he would unquestionably have become one of the foremost men of the Republican party, if not its accepted leader."[373]

[Footnote 372: Henry Wilson, _Rise and Fall of the Slave Power of the United States_, Vol. 2, p. 142.]

[Footnote 373: _Ibid._, p. 142.]

Several historic conventions followed the secession of the Barnburners. Each faction held a state convention to select delegates to the Democratic national convention which met in Baltimore on May 22, 1848, and, on the appointed day, both Hunkers and Barnburners presented full delegations, each claiming admission to the exclusion of the other.[374] It was an anxious moment for Democracy. New York held the key to the election; without its vote the party could not hope to win; and without harmony success was impossible. To exclude either faction, therefore, was political suicide, and, in the end, the vote was divided equally between them. To the politician, anxious for party success and hungry for office, perhaps no other compromise seemed possible. But the device failed to satisfy either side, and Lewis Cass was nominated for President without the participation of the State that must elect or defeat him.

[Footnote 374: "The Barnburners made the Monumental City lurid with their wrath, frightening the delegates from the back States almost out of their wits."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 162. "Or, as one man said in a speech, 'the regular delegates might occupy half a seat apiece, provided each of them would let a Hunker sit on his lap.'"--_Ibid._, p. 161.]

Returning home, the Barnburners issued an address, written by Samuel J. Tilden, who fearlessly called upon Democrats to act independently. This led to the famous convention held at Utica in June. Samuel Young presided, Churchill C. Cambreling was conspicuous on the stage, David Dudley Field read a letter from Martin Van Buren condemning the platform and the candidate of the Baltimore convention, and Benjamin F. Butler, Preston King, and John Van Buren illuminated the principles of the Free-soil party in speeches that have seldom been surpassed in political conventions. In the end Martin Van Buren was nominated for President.

This assembly, in the ability and character of its members, contained the better portion of the party. Its attitude was strong, defiant, and its only purpose apparently was to create a public sentiment hostile to the extension of slavery. Nevertheless, it was divided into two factions, one actuated more by a desire to avenge the alleged wrongs of Van Buren, than to limit slavery. To this class belonged Churchill C. Cambreling, Samuel J. Tilden, John A. Dix, Sanford E. Church, Dean Richmond, John Cochrane, Benjamin F. Butler, and the Van Burens. On the anti-slavery side, Preston King, David Dudley Field, James S. Wadsworth, and William Cullen Bryant were conspicuous. Seven years later, these men were quick to aid in the formation of the Republican party; while the former, for the most part, continued with the Democratic party. But, whatever the motives that prompted them, their action strengthened the Buffalo convention[375] which met on August 9, 1848, giving an impetus to the anti-slavery cause too strong for resentment or revenge to guide it.

[Footnote 375: "The nomination of Cass for the Presidency by the Democrats and Taylor by the Whigs led to the Buffalo convention of 1848. Pro-slavery Democrats were there to avenge the wrongs of Martin Van Buren. Free-soil Democrats were there to punish the assassins of Silas Wright. Pro-slavery Whigs were there to strike down Taylor because he had dethroned their idol, Henry Clay, in the Philadelphia convention. Anti-slavery Whigs were there, breathing the spirit of the departed John Quincy Adams. Abolitionists of all shades of opinion were present, from the darkest type to those of a milder hue, who shared the views of Salmon P. Chase."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, pp. 162-63.]

There have been many important meetings in the history of American politics, but it may well be doubted if any convention, during the struggle with slavery, ever exalted the hearts of those who took part in it more than did this assembly of fearless representatives of the Free-soil party in Buffalo, the Queen City of the Lakes. The time was ripe for action, and on that day in August, men eminent and to grow eminent, sought the shade of a great tent on the eastern shore of Lake Erie. Among them were Joshua R. Giddings, the well-known Abolitionist; Salmon P. Chase, not yet famous, but soon to become a United States senator with views of slavery in accord with William H. Seward; and Charles Francis Adams who had already associated his name with that of his illustrious father in the growth of anti-slavery opinions in New England. Chase presided over the convention and Adams over the mass-meeting. At the outset, it was boldly asserted that they had assembled "to secure free soil for a free people;" and in closing they thrilled the hearts of all hearers with the memorable declaration that rang throughout the land like a blast from a trumpet, "We inscribe on our banner Free Soil, Free Speech, Free Labour, and Free Men." It was a remarkable convention in that it made no mistakes. Lewis Cass represented the South and its purposes, while Zachary Taylor lived in the South and owned four hundred slaves. Neither of these men could be supported; but, in the end, rather than put a fourth candidate into the field, it was resolved unanimously to indorse Martin Van Buren for President and Charles Francis Adams for Vice President. Daniel Webster ridiculed the idea of "the leader of the Free-_spoil_ party becoming the leader of the Free-soil party;" but Charles Sumner, whose heart was in the cause, declared that "it is not for the Van Buren of 1838 that we are to vote, but for the Van Buren of to-day--the veteran statesman, sagacious, determined, experienced, who, at an age when most men are rejoicing to put off their armour, girds himself anew and enters the list as a champion of freedom."[376] To give further dignity and importance to the Free-soil movement, the nomination of John P. Hale, made by the Abolitionists in the preceding November, was withdrawn, and John A. Dix, then a Democratic senator, accepted the Barnburners' nomination for governor.[377]

[Footnote 376: Charles Sumner, _Works_, Vol. 2, p. 144.

"It will be remembered that Van Buren, in his inaugural as President, pledged himself to veto any bill for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia, unless sanctioned by Maryland and Virginia. Anti-slavery men took great umbrage to this pledge, and while Butler at the Buffalo convention was graphically describing how the ex-President, now absorbed in bucolic pursuits at his Kinderhook farm, had recently leaped a fence to show his visitor a field of sprouting turnips, one of these disgusted Abolitionists abruptly exclaimed, 'Damn his turnips! What are his present opinions about the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia?' 'I was just coming to that subject,' responded the oily Barnburner, with a suave bow towards the ruffled Whig. 'Well, you can't be a moment too quick in coming to it,' replied the captious interlocutor."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 164.]

[Footnote 377: "General Dix disapproved of the design to make separate nominations, thinking it unwise, and foreseeing that it would increase the difficulty of bringing about a reconciliation. But that he, a Democrat of the old school, should find himself associated with gentlemen of the Whig party, from whom he differed on almost every point, was a painful and distressing surprise. He was willing, if it must be so, to go with his own section of the Democratic party, though deeming their course not the wisest. But when it came to an alliance with Whigs and Abolitionists he lost all heart in the movement. This accounts for his strong expressions in after years to justify himself from the charge of being an Abolitionist and false to his old faith."--Morgan Dix, _Memoirs of John A. Dix_, Vol. 1, p. 239.]

The Hunkers were aghast. The movement that let the Whigs into power in 1847 had suddenly become a national party, with the most famous and distinguished Democrat at its head, while the old issues of internal improvement, the tariff, and the independent treasury were obscured by the intensity of the people's opposition to the extension of slavery. The Hunkers controlled the party machinery--the Barnburners held the balance of power. To add to the bitterness of the situation, Edwin Croswell, after a quarter of a century of leadership, had retired from editorial and political life, leaving no one who could fill his place. When the Democratic state convention assembled at Syracuse, therefore, it spent itself in rhetorical denunciation of the rebellious faction, and wasted itself in the selection of Reuben H. Walworth for governor and Charles O'Conor for lieutenant-governor. Neither was a popular nomination. Walworth was the last of the chancellors. He came into notice as an ardent Bucktail in the days of DeWitt Clinton, and, upon the retirement of Chancellor Kent in 1828 succeeded to that important and lucrative office. He was a hard worker and an upright judge; but he did not rank as a great jurist. The lawyers thought him slow and crabbed, and his exclusion from the office at the age of fifty-nine, after the adoption of the new Constitution in 1846, was not regretted. But Chancellor Walworth had two traits which made him a marked figure in the Commonwealth--an enthusiasm for his profession that spared no labour and left no record unsearched; and an enthusiastic love for the Church.

Of Charles O'Conor's remarkable abilities, mention occurs elsewhere. His conservatism made him a Democrat of the extreme school. In the Slave Jack case and the Lemmon slave case, very famous in their day, he was counsel for the slave-holders; and at the close of the Civil War he became the attorney for Jefferson Davis when indicted for treason. O'Conor's great power as a speaker added much to the entertainment of the campaign of 1848, but whether he would have beaten his sincere, large-hearted, and affectionate Whig opponent had no third party divided the vote, was a mooted question at the time, and one usually settled in favour of the Chautauquan.

The Whigs had reason to be hopeful. They had elected Young in 1846 by eleven thousand, and, because of the Barnburner secession, had carried the State in 1847 by thirty thousand. Everything indicated that their success in 1848 would be no less sweeping. But they were far from happy. Early in June, 1846, long before the capture of Monterey and the victory of Buena Vista, the Albany _Evening Journal_ had suggested that Zachary Taylor was in the minds of many, and in the hearts of more, for President in 1848. Thurlow Weed went further. He sent word to the brilliant officer that he need not reply to the numerous letters from men of all political stripes offering their support, since the presidential question would take care of itself after his triumphant return from Mexico. But, in the spring of 1848, the question became embarrassing. Taylor was a slave-holder. Many northern Whigs were deeply imbued with anti-slavery sentiments, and the action of the Free-soilers was increasing their sensitiveness. "What plagues me most of all," wrote Washington Hunt to Weed, "is to think how I, after all I have said against slavery and its extension, am to look the Wilmot Proviso people in the face and ask them to vote for a Southern slave-holder."[378] Yet Taylor was a conquering hero; and, although little was known of his political sentiments or sympathies, it was generally believed the Democrats would nominate him for President if the Whigs did not.

[Footnote 378: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 165.]

As the year grew older it became apparent that Henry Clay was the choice of a large portion of the Whigs of the country. Besides, Daniel Webster had reappeared as a candidate; Winfield Scott had the support of his former New York friends; and Horace Greeley, "waging a quixotic war against heroes," as Seward expressed it, was sure of defeating Taylor even if shaken in his confidence of nominating Clay. "I hope you see your way through this difficulty," Hunt again wrote Weed. "You are like a deacon I know. His wife said it always came natural to him to see into the doctrine of election."[379] Weed believed that Zachary Taylor, if not nominated by the Whigs, would be taken up by the Democrats, and he favoured the Southerner because the election of Jackson and Harrison convinced him that winning battles opened a sure way to the White House. But Thurlow Weed was not a stranger to Taylor's sympathies. He had satisfied himself that the bluff old warrior, though a native of Virginia and a Louisiana slave-holder, favoured domestic manufactures, opposed the admission of Texas, and had been a lifelong admirer of Henry Clay; and, with this information, he went to work, cautiously as was his custom, but with none the less energy and persistence. Among other things, he visited Daniel Webster at Marshfield to urge him to accept the nomination for Vice President. The great statesman recalled Weed's similar errand in 1839, and the memory of Harrison's sudden death now softened him into a receptive mood; but the inopportune coming of Fletcher Webster, who reported that his father's cause was making tremendous progress, changed consent into disapproval, and for the second time in ten years Webster lost the opportunity of becoming President.

[Footnote 379: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 167.]

When the Whig national convention met in Philadelphia on June 8, Thurlow Weed did not doubt the ability of Taylor's friends to nominate him; but, in that event, several prominent delegates threatened to bolt. It was an anxious moment. The success of the Whig party and the ascendancy of Weed's leadership in New York were at stake. It was urged by the anti-slavery men with great vehemence that Taylor was a "no-party man," and that as a born Southerner and large slave-holder he could not be trusted on the slavery question. But when the five candidates were finally placed in nomination, and a single ballot taken, it was found, as Weed had predicted, that the hero of Buena Vista was the one upon whom the Whigs could best unite. With few exceptions, the friends of Clay, Webster, Scott, and John M. Clayton could go to Taylor better than to another, and on the fourth ballot, amidst anger and disappointment, the latter was nominated by sixty majority.

For the moment, the office of Vice President seemed to go a-begging, as it did in the convention of 1839 after the defeat of Henry Clay. Early in the year Seward's friends urged his candidacy; but he gave it no encouragement, preferring to continue the practice of his profession, which was now large and lucrative. John Young, who thought he would like the place, sent a secret agent to Mexico with letters to Taylor. Young's record as governor, however, did not commend him for other honours, and the scheme was soon abandoned. As the summer advanced Abbott Lawrence of Massachusetts became the favourite; and for a time it seemed as if his nomination would be made by acclamation; but, after Taylor's nomination and Clay's defeat, many delegates promptly declared they would not have "cotton at both ends of the ticket"--referring to Taylor as a grower and Lawrence as a manufacturer of cotton. In this crisis, and after a stormy recess, John A. Collier, a leading lawyer of Binghamton, who had served in the Twenty-second Congress and one year as state comptroller, suddenly took the platform. In a stirring speech, in which he eloquently pictured the sorrow and bitterness of Clay's friends, he hopefully announced that he had a peace-offering to present, which, if accepted, would, in a measure, reconcile the supporters of all the defeated candidates and prevent a fatal breach in the party. Then, to the astonishment of the convention, he named Millard Fillmore for Vice President, and asked a unanimous response to his nomination. This speech, though not pitched in a very exalted key, was so subtile and telling, that it threw the convention into applause. Collier recalled Fillmore's fidelity to his party; his satisfactory record in Congress, especially during the passage of the tariff act of 1842; his splendid, if unsuccessful canvass, as a candidate for governor in 1844, and his recent majority of thirty-eight thousand for comptroller, the largest ever given any candidate in the State. At the time, it looked as if a unanimous response might be made; but the friends of Lawrence rallied, and at the close of the ballot Fillmore had won by only six votes. For Collier, however, it was a great triumph, giving him a reputation as a speaker that later efforts did not sustain.

To anti-slavery delegates, the Philadelphia convention was a disappointment. It seemed to lack courage and to be without convictions or principles. Like its predecessor in 1839 it adopted no resolutions and issued no address. The candidates became its platform. In voting down a resolution in favour of the Wilmot Proviso, many delegates believed the party would prove faithless on the great issue; and fifteen of them, led by Henry Wilson of Massachusetts, proposed a national convention of all persons opposed to the extension of slavery, to be held at Buffalo early in August. "It is fortunate for us," wrote Seward, "that the Democratic party is divided."[380] But the New Yorkers, some of whom found encouragement in the nomination of Fillmore, who had thus far been inflexible upon the slavery question, patiently waited for the result of the Whig state convention, which met at Utica on the 14th of September. By this time, as Seward and Weed predicted, Taylor's nomination had grown popular. Greeley, soon to be a candidate for Congress, advised the _Tribune's_ readers to vote the Whig ticket, while the action of the Buffalo convention, though it united the anti-slavery vote, assured a division of the Democratic party more than sufficient to compensate for any Whig losses. Under these circumstances, the Utica convention assembled with reasonable hopes of success. It lacked the spirit of the band of resolute Free-soilers, who met in the same place on the same day and nominated John A. Dix for governor and Seth M. Gates of Wyoming for lieutenant-governor; but it gave no evidence of the despair that had settled upon the convention of the Hunkers in the preceding week.

[Footnote 380: F.W. Seward, _Life of W.H. Seward_, Vol. 2, p. 71.]

One feature of the Whig state convention is worthy of notice. The great influence of the Anti-Renters who held the balance of power in the convention of 1846 had disappeared. The Governor's anti-rent friends urged his renomination with the earnest voice of a brave people; but John Young was destined to be the comet of a season only. His course in respect to appointments and to the Mexican War had alienated Thurlow Weed, and his pardon of the anti-rent rioters estranged the conservative Whigs. Although a shrewd politician, with frank and affable manners, as an administrative officer he lacked the tact displayed so abundantly as a legislator; and its absence seriously handicapped him. Twenty delegates measured his strength in a convention that took forty-nine votes to nominate. Under the Taylor administration, Young received an appointment as assistant treasurer in New York City--the office given to William C. Bouck in 1846--but his career may be said to have closed the moment he promised to pardon a lot of murderous rioters to secure an election as governor. With that, he passed out of the real world of state-craft into the class of politicians whose ambition and infirmities have destroyed their usefulness. He died in April, 1852, at the age of fifty.

Hamilton Fish was the favourite candidate for governor in the Utica convention. His sympathies leaned toward the conservatives of his party; but the moderation of his speech and his conciliatory manners secured the good wishes of both factions, and he received seventy-six votes on the first ballot. Fish was admittedly one of the most popular young men in New York City. He had never sought or desired office. In 1842, the friends of reform sent him to Congress from a strong Democratic district, and in 1846, after repeatedly and peremptorily declining, the Whig convention, to save the party from disruption, compelled him to take the nomination for lieutenant-governor on the ticket with John Young. In 1847, after Addison Gardiner, by his appointment to the Court of Appeals, had vacated the lieutenant-governorship, the convention, in resentment of Fish's defeat by the Anti-Renters, again forced his nomination for the same office, and his election followed by thirty thousand majority. Fish was now thirty-nine years old, with more than two-score and five years to live. He was to become a United States senator, and to serve, for eight years, with distinguished ability, as secretary of state in the Cabinet of President Grant; yet, in all that period, he never departed from the simple, sincere life that he was living in September, 1848. Writing of him in the _Tribune_, on the day after his nomination for governor, Horace Greeley voiced the sentiment of men irrespective of party. "Wealthy without pride, generous without ostentation, simple in manners, blameless in life, and accepting office with no other aspiration than that of making power subserve the common good of his fellow citizens, Hamilton Fish justly and eminently enjoys the confidence and esteem of all who know him."[381]

[Footnote 381: New York _Tribune_, September 15, 1848.]

On the first ballot, George W. Patterson of Chautauqua received eighty-four out of ninety-six votes for lieutenant-governor. In his gentle manners, simple generosity, and moderation of speech, Patterson was not unlike Hamilton Fish. He was a loyal friend of Seward, a constant correspondent of Weed, and a member of the inner circle of governing Whigs; he had been prominent as an Anti-Mason, satisfactory as a legislator, and impartial as a speaker of the Assembly; he was now recognised as a far-sighted, wise, and cautious politician. In guiding the convention to the selection of Hamilton Fish and George W. Patterson, it was admitted that Thurlow Weed's leadership vindicated his sagacity.

The political contest in New York, unlike that in the South and in some Western States, presented the novel feature of three powerful parties in battle array. The Free-soil faction was a strange mixture. Besides Barnburners, there were Conscience Whigs, Proviso Democrats, Land Reformers, Workingmen, and Abolitionists--a formidable combination of able and influential men who wielded the power of absolute disinterestedness, and who kept step with John Van Buren's trenchant and eloquent speeches which resounded through the State. Van Buren was the accepted leader, and in this campaign he reached the height of his reputation. His features were not striking, but in person he was tall, symmetrical, and graceful; and no one in the State could hold an audience with such delightful oratory and lofty eloquence.

The ablest Whig to oppose him was William H. Seward, who frequently followed him in localities where Whigs were likely to act with the Free-soil party. On the slavery question, Seward held views identical with those expressed by Van Buren; but he insisted that every Whig vote cast for the third party was only a negative protest against the slavery party. Real friends of emancipation must not be content with protests. They must act wisely and efficiently. "For myself," he declared, "I shall cast my suffrage for General Taylor and Millard Fillmore, freely and conscientiously, on precisely the same grounds on which I have hitherto voted."[382]

[Footnote 382: F.W. Seward, _Life of W.H. Seward_, Vol. 2, p. 77.]

As in former presidential years, each party had its flags and banners, its drums and cannon, its bewildering variety of inscriptions and mottoes, and its multitude of speakers charging and countercharging inconsistencies and maladministration. The Whigs accused Cass with having printed two biographies, one for the South, in which he appeared as a slavery extensionist, and one for the North, in which he figured as a Wilmot Provisoist. To this accusation, Democrats retorted that the Whigs opposed annexation in the North and favoured it in the South; denounced the war and nominated its leading general; voted down the Wilmot Proviso in June, and upheld it in July.

In New York, New England, and in some parts of the West, the clear, comprehensive, ringing platform of the anti-slavery party had fixed the issue. Audiences became restless if asked to listen to arguments upon other topics. Opposition to slavery was, at last, respectable in politics. For the first time, none of his party deprecated Seward's advanced utterances upon this question, and from August to November he freely voiced his opinions. The series of professional achievements which began with the Freeman case was still in progress; but he laid them aside that he might pass through his own State into New England, and from thence through New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, into Ohio, where the result, as shown by the October election, was to be very close.

Seward was now in the fulness of his intellectual power. There was nothing sensational, nothing unfit in his speeches. He believed that the conscience of the people was a better guide than individual ambitions, and he inspired them with lofty desires and filled them with sound principles of action. "There are two antagonistic elements of society in America," said he, in his speech at Cleveland, "freedom and slavery. Freedom is in harmony with our system of government and with the spirit of the age, and is, therefore, passive and quiescent. Slavery is in conflict with that system, with justice, and with humanity, and is, therefore, organised, defensive, active, and perpetually aggressive. Freedom insists on the emancipation and elevation of labour. Slavery demands a soil moistened with tears and blood. These elements divide and classify the American people into two parties. Each of these parties has its court and sceptre. The throne of the one is amid the rocks of the Allegheny Mountains; the throne of the other is reared on the sands of South Carolina. One of these parties, the party of slavery, regards disunion as among the means of defence and not always the last to be employed. The other maintains the Union of the States, one and inseparable, now and forever, as the highest duty of the American people to themselves, to posterity, to mankind. It is written in the Constitution that five slaves shall count equal to three freemen as a basis of representation, and it is written also, in violation of the Divine Law, that we shall surrender the fugitive slave who takes refuge at our fireside from his relentless pursuers. 'What, then,' you say; 'can nothing be done for freedom because the public conscience is inert?' Yes, much can be done--everything can be done. Slavery can be limited to its present bounds; it can be ameliorated; it can and must be abolished, and you and I can and must do it."[383]

[Footnote 383: F.W. Seward, _Life of W.H. Seward_, Vol. 2, p. 86.]

This presented an epitome of Seward's views when spoken without restraint. His friends thought them "bold" and his opponents denounced them as "most perverse and dogmatic," but, whether bold or perverse, he devoted the chief part of every speech to them. He was not without humour, man's highest gift, but he had more of humanity; he spoke seriously and solemnly, usually to grave, sober, reflecting men of all professions and parties; and, at the end of two hours, dismissed them as if from an evening church service. At Boston, a Whig member of Congress from Illinois spoke with him, principally upon the maladministration of the Democrats and the inconsistencies of Lewis Cass. After the meeting, while sitting in their hotel, the congressman, with a thoughtful air, said to Seward: "I have been thinking about what you said in your speech to-night. I reckon you are right. We have got to deal with this slavery question, and got to give much more attention to it hereafter than we have been doing."[384] This was Seward's first meeting with Abraham Lincoln. The former was then forty-seven years old, the latter thirty-nine.

[Footnote 384: _Ibid._, p. 80.]

In New York, the campaign could have but one outcome. The Free-soil faction divided the Democratic vote nearly by two, giving Van Buren 120,000, Cass 114,000, and Taylor 218,000. The returns for governor varied but slightly from these figures.[385] In the country at large Taylor secured one hundred and sixty-three electoral votes and Cass one hundred and twenty-seven. But, a Whig majority of one hundred and four on joint ballot in the Legislature, and the election of thirty-one out of thirty-four congressmen, showed the wreckage of a divided Democracy in New York. The Hunkers elected only six assemblymen; the Free-soilers secured fourteen. The Whigs had one hundred and eight. Returns from all the counties and cities in no wise differed. The Hunkers had been wiped out. If the Free-soilers did not get office, they had demonstrated their strength, and exulted in having routed their adversaries. Although Martin Van Buren was not to leave his retirement at Lindenwald, the brilliant son had avenged his father's wrongs by dashing Lewis Cass rudely and ruthlessly to the ground.

[Footnote 385: Hamilton Fish, 218,776; John A. Dix, 122,811; Reuben H. Walworth, 116,811; William Goodell, 1593.--_Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]