Chapter 49

THE WHIGS' WATERLOO

1850-1852

The Assembly of 1851 has a peculiar, almost romantic interest for New Yorkers. A very young man, full of promise and full of performance, the brilliant editor of a later day, the precocious politician of that day, became its speaker. Henry Jarvis Raymond was then in his thirty-first year. New York City had sent him to the Assembly in 1850, and he leaped into prominence the week he took his seat. He was ready in debate, temperate in language, quick in the apprehension of parliamentary rules, and of phenomenal tact. The unexcelled courtesy and grace of manner with which he dropped the measured and beautiful sentences that made him an orator, undoubtedly aided in obtaining the position to which his genius entitled him. But his political instincts, also, were admirable, and his aptness as an unerring counsellor in the conduct of complicated affairs always turned to the advantage of his party. There came a time, after the assassination of President Lincoln, when he made a mistake so grievous that he was never able to regain his former standing; when he was dropped from the list of party leaders; when his cordial affiliation with members of the Republican organisation ceased; when his removal from the chairmanship of the National Committee was ratified by the action of a state convention; but the sagacity with which he now commented upon what he saw and heard made the oldest members of the Assembly lean upon him. And when he came back to the Legislature in January, 1851, they put him in the speaker's chair.

Raymond seems never to have wearied of study, or to have found it difficult easily to acquire knowledge. He could read at three years of age; at five he was a speaker. In his sixteenth year he taught school in Genesee County, where he was born, wrote a Fourth of July ode creditable to one of double his years, and entered the University of Vermont. As soon as he reached an age to appreciate his tastes and to form a purpose, he began equipping himself for the career of a political journalist. He was not yet twenty-one when he made Whig speeches in the campaign of 1840 and gained employment with Horace Greeley on the _New Yorker_ and a little later on the _Tribune_. "I never found another person, barely of age and just from his studies, who evinced so much and so versatile ability in journalism as he did," wrote Greeley. "Abler and stronger men I may have met; a cleverer, readier, more generally efficient journalist I never saw. He is the only assistant with whom I ever felt required to remonstrate for doing more work than any human brain and frame could be expected long to endure. His services were more valuable in proportion to their cost than those of any one who ever worked on the _Tribune_."[402] In 1843, when Raymond left the _Tribune_, James Watson Webb, already acquainted with the ripe intelligence and eager genius of the young man of twenty-three, thought him competent to manage the _Courier and Enquirer_, and in his celebrated discussion with Greeley on the subject of socialism he gave that paper something of the glory which twelve years later crowned his labours upon the New York _Times_.

[Footnote 402: Horace Greeley, _Recollections of a Busy Life_, pp. 138, 139.]

It was inevitable that Raymond should hold office. The readiness with which he formulated answers to arguments in the Polk campaign, his sympathy with the Free-soil movement, the canal policy, and the common school system, produced a marked impression upon the dawning wisdom of his readers. But it was near the end of his connection with the _Courier_ before he yielded his own desires to the urgent solicitation of the Whigs of the ninth ward and went to the Assembly. He had not yet quarrelled with James Watson Webb. That came in the spring of 1851 when he refused to use his political influence as speaker against Hamilton Fish for United States senator and in favour of the owner of the _Courier and Enquirer_. His anti-slavery convictions and strong prejudices against the compromise measures of 1850 also rapidly widened the gulf between him and his superior; and when the break finally came he stepped from the speaker's chair into the editorial management of the New York _Times_, his own paper, pure in tone and reasonable in price, which was destined to weaken the _Courier_ as a political organ, to rival the _Tribune_ as a family and party journal, and to challenge the _Herald_ as a collector of news.

The stormy sessions of the Legislature of 1851 needed such a speaker as Raymond. At the outset, the scenes and tactics witnessed at Seward's election to the Senate in 1849 were repeated in the selection of a successor to Daniel S. Dickinson, whose term expired on the 4th of March. Webb's candidacy was prosecuted with characteristic zeal. For a quarter of a century he had been a picturesque, aggressive journalist, with a record adorned with libel suits and duels--the result of pungent paragraphs and bitter personalities--making him an object of terror to the timid and a pistol target for the fearless. On one occasion, through the clemency of Governor Seward, he escaped a two years' term in state's prison for fighting the brilliant "Tom" Marshall of Kentucky, who wounded him in the leg, and it is not impossible that Jonathan Cilley might have wounded him in the other had not the distinguished Maine congressman refused his challenge because he was "not a gentleman." This reply led to the foolish and fatal fray between Cilley and William J. Graves, who took up Webb's quarrel.

Webb was known as the Apollo of the press, his huge form, erect and massive, towering above the heads of other men, while his great physical strength made him noted for feats of endurance and activity. As a young man he held a minor commission in the army, but in 1827, at the age of twenty-five, he resigned to become the editor of the _Courier_, which, in 1829, he combined with the _Enquirer_. For twenty years, under his management, this paper, first as a supporter of Jackson and later as an advocate of Whig policies, ranked among the influential journals of New York. After Raymond withdrew, however, it became the organ of the Silver-Grays, and began to wane, until, in 1860, it lapsed into the _World_.

Webb's chief title to distinction in political life was allegiance to his own principles regardless of the party with which he happened to be affiliated, and his fidelity to men who had shown him kindness. He followed President Jackson until the latter turned against the United States Bank, and he supported the radical Whigs until Clay, in 1849, defeated his confirmation for minister to Austria; but, to the last, he seems to have remained true to Seward, possibly because Seward kept him out of state's prison, although, in the contest for United States senator in 1851, Hamilton Fish was the candidate of the Seward Whigs. Fish had grown rapidly as governor. People formerly recognised him as an accomplished gentleman, modest in manners and moderate in speech, but his conduct and messages as an executive revealed those higher qualities of statesmanship that ranked him among the wisest public men of the State. Thurlow Weed had accepted rather than selected him for governor in 1848. "I came here without claims upon your kindness," Fish wrote on December 31, 1850, the last day of his term. "I shall leave here full of the most grateful recollections of your favours and good will."[403] This admission was sufficient to dishonour him with the Fillmore Whigs, and, although he became the caucus nominee for senator on the 30th of January, his opponents, marshalled by Fillmore office-holders in support of James Watson Webb, succeeded in deadlocking his election for nearly two months.[404]

[Footnote 403: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 190.]

[Footnote 404: "The Whigs held the Senate by only two majority, and when the day for electing a United States senator arrived, sixteen Whigs voted for Fish, and fifteen Democrats voted for as many different candidates, so that the Fish Whigs could not double over upon them. James W. Beekman, a Whig senator of New York City, who claimed that Fish had fallen too much under the control of Weed, voted for Francis Granger. Upon a motion to adjourn, Beekman voted 'yes' with the Democrats, creating a tie, which the lieutenant-governor broke by also voting in the affirmative. The Whigs then waited for a few weeks, but one morning, when two Democrats were in New York City, they sprung a resolution to go into an election, and, after an unbroken struggle of fourteen hours, Fish was elected. The exultant cannon of the victors startled the city from its slumbers, and convinced the Silver-Grays that the Woolly Heads still held the capitol."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 172.]

In the meantime, other serious troubles confronted the young speaker. The Assembly, pursuant to the recommendation of Governor Hunt, passed an act authorising a loan of nine million dollars for the immediate enlargement of the Erie canal. Its constitutionality, seriously doubted, was approved by Daniel Webster and Rufus Choate, and the Whigs, needing an issue for the campaign, forced the bill ahead until eleven Democratic senators broke a quorum by resigning their seats. The Whigs were scarcely less excited than the Democrats. Such a secession had never occurred before. Former legislators held the opinion that they were elected to represent and maintain the interests of their constituents--not to withdraw for the sake of indulging some petulant or romantic impulse because they could not have their own way. Two opposition senators had the good sense to take this view and remain at their post. Governor Hunt immediately called an extra session, and, in the campaign to fill the vacancies, six of the eleven seceders were beaten. Thus reinforced in the Senate, the Whig policy became the law; and, although, the Court of Appeals, in the following May, held the act unconstitutional, both parties got the benefit of the issue in the campaign of 1851.

In this contest the Whigs followed the lead of the Democrats in avoiding the slavery question. The fugitive slave law was absorbing public attention. The "Jerry rescue" had not occurred in Syracuse; nor had the killing of a slave-holder in a negro uprising on the border of an adjoining State advertised the danger of enforcing the law; yet the Act had not worked as smoothly as Fillmore's friends wished. It took ten days of litigation at a cost of more than the fugitive's value to reclaim a slave in New York City. Trustworthy estimates fixed the number of runaways in the free States at fifteen thousand, and a southern United States senator bitterly complained that only four or five had been recaptured since the law's enactment. Enough had been done, however, to inflame the people into a passion. Ralph Waldo Emerson declared the Act "a law which every one of you will break on the earliest occasion--a law which no man can obey, or abet the obeying, without loss of self-respect and forfeiture of the name of gentleman."[405] Seward did not hesitate to publish similar sentiments. "Christendom," he wrote, "might be searched in vain for a parallel to the provisions which make escape from bondage a crime, and which, under vigorous penalties, compel freemen to aid in the capture of slaves."[406] The Albany _Evening Journal_ declared that "the execution of the fugitive slave law violently convulses the foundations of society. Fugitives who have lived among us for many years cannot be seized and driven off as if they belonged to the brute creation. The attempt to recover such fugitives will prove abortive."[407]

[Footnote 405: J.E. Cabot, _Life of Emerson_, p. 578. Emerson's address at Concord, May 3, 1851.]

[Footnote 406: F.W. Seward, _Life of W.H. Seward_, Vol. 2, p. 163.]

[Footnote 407: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 185.]

It is impossible to read these expressions without believing that they were written under the inspiration of genuine emotion, and that so long as such conditions continued men of sentiment could think of little else. Danger to the Union, at least assumed danger, could not in any way soften their hearts or change their purposes. Yet the state conventions which met in Syracuse on September 10 and 11, 1851, talked of other things. The Democrats nominated a ticket divided between Hunkers and Barnburners; and, after condemning the Whig management of the canals as lavish, reckless, and corrupt, readopted the slavery resolutions of the previous year. The Whigs likewise performed their duty by making up a ticket of Fillmore and inoffensive Seward men, pledging the party to the enlargement of the Erie canal. Thus it was publicly announced that slavery should be eliminated from the thought and action of parties.

This policy of silence put the Whigs under painful restraint. The rescue of a fugitive at Syracuse by a band of resolute men, led by Gerrit Smith and Samuel J. May, and the killing of a slave-owner at Christiana, Pennsylvania, while attempting to reclaim his property, seriously disturbed the consciences of men who thought as did Emerson and Seward; but not a word appeared in Whig papers about the great underlying question which persistently forced itself on men's thoughts. Greeley wrote of the tariff and the iron trade; Seward spent the summer in Detroit on professional engagements; and Weed, whose great skill had aided in successfully guiding the canal loan through a legislative secession, continued to urge that policy as the key to the campaign as well as to New York's commerce. But after the votes were counted the Whigs discovered that they had played a losing game. Two minor state officers out of eight, with a tie in the Senate and two majority in the Assembly, summed up their possessions. The defeat of George W. Patterson for comptroller greatly distressed his friends, and the loss of the canal board, with all its officers, plunged the whole Whig party into grief. Several reasons for this unexpected result found advocates in the press. There were evidences of infidelity in some of the up-state counties, especially in the Auburn district, where Samuel Blatchford's law partnership with Seward had defeated him for justice of the Supreme Court; but the wholesale proscription in New York City by Administration or "Cotton Whigs," as they were called, fully accounted for the overthrow. It was taken as a declaration of war against Sewardism. "The majorities against Patterson and his defeated associates," said the _Tribune_, in its issue of November 20, "imply that no man who is recognised as a friend of Governor Seward and a condemner of the fugitive slave law must be run on our state ticket hereafter, or he will be beaten by the Cotton influence in this city." Hamilton Fish took a similar view. "A noble, glorious party has been defeated--destroyed--by its own leaders," he wrote Weed. "Webster has succeeded better under Fillmore than he did under Tyler in breaking up the Whig organisation and forming a third party. I pity Fillmore. Timid, vacillating, credulous, unjustly suspicious when approached by his prejudices, he has allowed the sacrifice of that confiding party which has had no honours too high to confer upon him. It cannot be long before he will realise the tremendous mistake he has made."[408]

[Footnote 408: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 196.]

What Hamilton Fish said the great majority of New York Whigs thought, and in this frame of mind they entered the presidential campaign of 1852. Fillmore, Scott, and Webster were the candidates. Fillmore had not spared the use of patronage to further his ambition. It mattered not that the postmaster at Albany was the personal friend of Thurlow Weed, or that the men appointed upon the recommendation of Seward were the choice of a majority of their party, the proscription extended to all who disapproved the Silver-Grays' bolt of 1850, or refused to recognise their subsequent convention at Utica. Under these circumstances thirst for revenge as well as a desire to nominate a winning candidate controlled the selection of presidential delegates; and in the round-up seven favoured Fillmore, two preferred Webster, while twenty-four supported Scott. Naturally the result was a great shock to Fillmore. The Silver-Grays had been growing heartily sick of their secession, and if they needed further evidence of its rashness the weakness of their leader in his home State furnished it.

Fillmore's strength proved to be chiefly in the South. His vigorous execution of the fugitive slave law had been more potent than his unsparing use of patronage; and when the Whig convention assembled at Baltimore on June 16 the question whether that law should be declared a finality became of supreme importance. Fillmore could not stand on an anti-slavery platform, and a majority of the New Yorkers refused their consent to any sacrifice of principle. But, in spite of their protest, the influence of a solid southern delegation, backed by the marvellous eloquence of Rufus Choate, forced the passage of a resolution declaring that "the compromise acts, the act known as the fugitive slave law included, are received and acquiesced in by the Whig party of the United States as a settlement in principle and substance of the dangerous and exciting questions which they embrace. We insist upon their strict enforcement; and we deprecate all further agitation of the question thus settled, as dangerous to our peace, and will discountenance all efforts to continue or renew such agitation whenever, wherever, or however the attempt may be made." A roll call developed sixty-six votes in the negative, all from the North, and one-third of them from New York.

This was a Fillmore-Webster platform, and the first ballot gave them a majority of the votes cast, Fillmore having 133, Webster 29, Scott 131. The number necessary to a choice was 147. The activity of the Fillmore delegates, therefore, centred in an effort to concentrate the votes of the President and his secretary of state. Both were in Washington, their relations were cordial, and an adjournment of the convention over Sunday gave abundant opportunity to negotiate. When it became manifest that Webster's friends would not go to Fillmore, an extraordinary effort was made to bring the President's votes to Webster. This was agreeable to Fillmore, who placed a letter of withdrawal in the hands of a Buffalo delegate to be used whenever he deemed it proper. But twenty-two Southern men declined to be transferred, while the most piteous appeals to the Scott men of New York met with cold refusals. They professed any amount of duty to their party, but as regards the Fillmore combine they were implacable. They would listen to no terms of compromise while their great enemy remained in the field. Meantime, the Scott managers had not been asleep. In the contest over the platform, certain Southern delegates had agreed to vote for Scott whenever Fillmore reached his finish, provided Scott's friends supported the fugitive slave plank; and these delegates, amidst the wildest excitement, now began changing their votes to the hero of Lundy's Lane. On the fifty-third ballot, the soldier had twenty-six majority, the vote standing: Scott, 159; Fillmore, 112; Webster, 21.

The prophecy of Hamilton Fish was fulfilled. Fillmore now realised, if never before, "the tremendous mistakes he had made." Upon his election as Vice President, and especially after dreams of the White House began to dazzle him, he seemed to sacrifice old friends and cherished principles without a scruple. Until then, the Buffalo statesman had been as pronounced upon the slavery question as Seward; and after he became President, with the tremendous influence of Daniel Webster driving him on, it was not believed that he would violate the principles of a lifetime by approving a fugitive slave law, revolting to the rapidly growing sentiment of justice and humanity toward the slave. But, unlike Webster, the President manifested no feeling of chagrin or disappointment over the result at Baltimore. Throughout the campaign and during the balance of his term of office he bore himself with courage and with dignity. Indeed, his equanimity seemed almost like the fortitude of fatalism. No doubt, he was sustained by the conviction that the compromise measures had avoided civil war, and by the feeling that if he had erred, Clay and Webster had likewise erred; but he could have had no presentiment of the depth of the retirement to which he was destined. He was to reappear, in 1856, as a presidential candidate of the Americans; and, after civil war had rent the country in twain, his sympathy for the Union was to reveal itself early and with ardour. But the fugitive slave law, which, next to treason itself, had become the most offensive act during the ante-war crisis, filled the minds of men with a growing dislike of the one whose pen gave it life, and, in spite of his high character, his long public career, and his eminence as a citizen, he was associated with Pierce and Buchanan, who, as Northern men, were believed to have surrendered to Southern dictation.[409]

[Footnote 409: "When Fillmore withdrew from the presidential office, the general sentiment proclaimed that he had filled the place with ability and honour. He was strictly temperate, industrious, orderly, and of an integrity above suspicion. If Northern people did not approve the fugitive slave law, they at least looked upon it with toleration. It is quite true, however, that after-opinion has been unkind to Fillmore. The judgment on him was made up at a time when the fugitive slave law had become detestable, and he was remembered only for his signature and vigorous execution of it."--James F. Rhodes, _History of the United States_, Vol. 1, pp. 297, 301.]

In the national convention at Baltimore, which met June 1, 1852, the New York Democrats were likewise destined to suffer by their divisions. Lewis Cass, James Buchanan, and Stephen A. Douglas were the leading candidates; though William L. Marcy and Daniel S. Dickinson also had presidential ambitions. Marcy was a man of different mould from Dickinson.[410] With great mental resources, rare administrative ability, consummate capacity in undermining enemies, and an intuitive sagacity in the selection of friends, Marcy was an opponent to be dreaded. After the experiences of 1847 and 1848, he had bitterly denounced the Barnburners, refusing even to join Seymour in 1849 in his heroic efforts to reunite the party; but when the Barnburners, influenced by the Utica statesman, began talking of him for President in 1852 he quickly put himself in accord with that wing of his party. Instantly, this became a call to battle. The Hunkers, provoked at his apostacy and encouraged by the continued distrust of many Barnburners, made a desperate effort, under the leadership of Dickinson, to secure a majority of the delegates for Cass. The plastic hand of Horatio Seymour, however, quickly kneaded the doubting Barnburners into Marcy advocates; and when the contest ended the New York delegation stood twenty-three for Marcy and thirteen for Cass.

[Footnote 410: "It was certain that Mr. Dickinson could not carry New York.... Governor Marcy was strongly urged in many quarters, and it was thought the State might be carried by him; but many were of the opinion that his friends kept his name prominently before the public with the hope of obtaining a cabinet appointment for him and thus securing the influence of that section of the New York Democracy to which he belonged. This was precisely the result that followed."--Morgan Dix, _Memoirs of John A. Dix_, Vol. 1, p. 266.]

Dickinson, who had been a steadfast friend of the South, relied with confidence upon Virginia and other Southern States whenever success with Cass seemed impossible. On the other hand, Marcy expected a transfer of support from Buchanan and Douglas if the break came. On the first ballot Cass had 116, Buchanan 93, Douglas 20, and Marcy 27; necessary to a choice, 188. As chairman of the New York delegation, Horatio Seymour held Marcy's vote practically intact through thirty-three ballots; but, on the thirty-fourth, he dropped to 23, and Virginia cast its fifteen votes for Dickinson, who, up to that time, had been honoured only with the vote of a solitary delegate. In the midst of some applause, the New Yorker, who was himself a delegate, thanked his Virginia friends for the compliment, but declared that his adherence to Cass could not be shaken.[411] Dickinson had carefully arranged for this vote. The day before, in the presence of the Virginia delegation, he had asked Henry B. Stanton's opinion of his ability to carry New York. "You or Marcy or any man nominated can carry New York," was the laconic reply. Dickinson followed Stanton out of the room to thank him for his courtesy, but regretted he did not confine his answer to him alone. After Virginia's vote Dickinson again sought Stanton's opinion as to its adherence. "It is simply a compliment," was the reply, "and will leave you on the next ballot," which it did, going to Franklin Pierce. "Dickinson's friends used to assert," continued Stanton, "that he threw away the Presidency on this occasion. I happened to know better. He never stood for a moment where he could control the Virginia vote--the hinge whereon all was to turn."[412]

[Footnote 411: "I could not consent to a nomination here without incurring the imputation of unfaithfully executing the trust committed to me by my constituents--without turning my back on an old and valued friend. Nothing that could be offered me--not even the highest position in the Government, the office of President of the United States--could compensate me for such a desertion of my trust."--Daniel S. Dickinson, _Letters and Speeches_, Vol. 1, p. 370.]

[Footnote 412: H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 181.]

In the meantime Marcy moved up to 44. It had been evident for two days that the favourite candidates could not win, and for the next thirteen ballots, amidst the greatest noise and confusion, the convention sought to discover the wisest course to pursue. Seymour endeavoured to side-track the "dark horse" movement by turning the tide to Marcy, whose vote kept steadily rising. When, on the forty-fifth ballot, he reached 97, the New York delegation retired for consultation. Seymour at once moved that the State vote solidly for Marcy; but protests fell so thick, exploding like bombshells, that he soon withdrew the motion. This ended Marcy's chances.[413] On the forty-ninth ballot, North Carolina started the stampede to Pierce, who received 282 votes to 6 for all others. Later in the day, the convention nominated William R. King of Alabama for Vice President, and adopted a platform, declaring that "the Democratic party of the Union will abide by, and adhere to, a faithful execution of the acts known as the compromise measures settled by the last Congress--the act for reclaiming fugitive slaves from service of labour included; which act, being designed to carry out an express provision of the Constitution, cannot with fidelity thereto be repealed, nor so changed as to destroy or impair its efficiency."

[Footnote 413: "Marcy held the war portfolio under Polk, but his conduct of the office had not added to his reputation, for it had galled the Administration to have the signal victories of the Mexican War won by Whig generals, and it was currently believed that the War Minister had shared in the endeavour to thwart some of the plans of Scott and Taylor."--James F. Rhodes, _History of the United States_, Vol. 1, pp. 246-7.

"The conflict became terrific, until, when the ballots had run up to within one of fifty, the Virginia nominee was announced as the choice of the convention."--Morgan Dix, _Memoirs of John A. Dix_, Vol. 1, p. 268.]

Some time before the convention it was suggested, with Marcy's approval, that the New York delegation should vote as a unit for Dickinson if he proved the stronger candidate outside the State, and, upon the same condition, a solid delegation should vote for Marcy. This proposition did not reach Dickinson until his leading friends had committed themselves by a second choice; but, in speaking of the matter to Thurlow Weed ten years afterward, Dickinson said that had it come in time he would cheerfully have accepted it, adding that whatever may have been his opinion in 1852, he now knew it would have resulted in Marcy's nomination.

The disturbance among the New York delegates at Baltimore had its influence at Syracuse when the Democratic state convention assembled on September 1. Seymour was the leading candidate for governor, and Dickinson opposed him with a bitterness born of a desire for revenge. The night before the convention Seymour's chances were pronounced desperate. Whatever disappointments had come at Baltimore were laid at his door. Seymour made Cass' defeat possible; Seymour refused to help Buchanan; Seymour was responsible for a dark horse; Seymour filled Marcy's friends with hopes of ultimate victory, only to heighten their disappointment in the end. All these allegations were merely founded upon his steadfastness to Marcy, and he might have answered that everything had been done with the approval of a majority of the New York delegation. But Dickinson was no match for the Utica statesman. Seymour's whole life had been a training for such a contest. As Roscoe Conkling said of him many years later, he had sat at the feet of Edwin Croswell and measured swords with Thurlow Weed. He was one of the men who do not lose the character of good fighters because they are excellent negotiators. Even the cool-headed and astute John Van Buren, who joined Dickinson in his support of John P. Beekman of New York City for governor, found that Seymour could cut deeply when he chose to wield a blade.[414] Seymour, moreover, gave his friends great satisfaction by the energy with which he entered the gubernatorial contest. When the first ballot was announced he had 59 votes to Beekman's 7, with only 64 necessary to a choice. On the second ballot, the Utican had 78 and Beekman 3. This concluded the convention's contest. Sanford E. Church was then renominated for lieutenant-governor, and the Baltimore platform approved.

[Footnote 414: "Seymour was among the most effective and eloquent platform orators in New York. Less electrical than John Van Buren, he was more persuasive; less witty, he was more logical; less sarcastic, he was more candid; less denunciatory of antagonists, he was more convincing to opponents. These two remarkable men had little in common except lofty ambition and rare mental and social gifts. Their salient characteristics were widely dissimilar. Seymour was conciliatory, and cultivated peace. Van Buren was aggressive, and coveted war."--H.B. Stanton, _Random Recollections_, p. 178.]

The Whig state convention met at Syracuse on September 22 and promptly renominated Washington Hunt for governor by acclamation. Raymond wanted it, and Greeley, in a letter to Weed, admitted an ambition, while a strong sentiment existed for George W. Patterson. Hunt had veered toward Fillmore's way of thinking. "The closing paragraphs of his message are a beggarly petition to the South," wrote George Dawson, the quaint, forceful associate of Weed upon the _Evening Journal_.[415] But Hunt's administration had been quiet and satisfactory, and there was little disposition to drop him. He did not have the patience of Hamilton Fish, but he resembled him in moderation of speech.

[Footnote 415: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 218.]

William Kent, a son of the Chancellor, received the nomination for lieutenant-governor. Kent was a scholarly, able lawyer. He had served five years upon the circuit bench by appointment of Governor Seward. He co-operated with Benjamin F. Butler in the organisation of the law school of the New York University, becoming one of its original lecturers, and was subsequently called to Harvard as a professor of law. Like his distinguished father he was a man of pure character, and of singular simplicity and gentleness.

The adoption of a platform gave the Whig delegates more trouble than the nomination of candidates. A large majority opposed the slavery plank of the Baltimore platform. But the Seward Whigs, having little faith in the ultimate result, accepted a general declaration that "an honest acquiescence in the action of the late national convention upon all subjects legitimately before it is the duty of every Whig." Horace Greeley suggested that "those who please can construe this concession into an approval."

In opening the canvass of 1852, the Whigs attempted to repeat the campaign of 1840. Scott's record in the War of 1812 was not less brilliant than Harrison's, and if his Mexican battles were not fought against the overwhelming odds that Taylor met at Buena Vista, he was none the less entitled to the distinction of a conqueror. It was thought proper, therefore, to start his political campaign where his military career began, and, as the anniversary of Lundy's Lane occurred in July, extensive preparations were made for celebrating the day at Niagara Falls, the nearest American point to the scene of his desperate courage. The great meeting, made up of large delegations from nearly every Northern State, rivalled in numbers and in enthusiasm the memorable meetings of the Harrison campaign. To add to the interest, two hundred and twenty officers and soldiers of the War of 1812, some of whom had taken part in the battle, participated in the festivities. Speakers declared that it inaugurated a new career of triumph, which might be likened to the onslaught of Lundy's Lane, the conflict of Chippewa, the siege of Vera Cruz, and the storm of Cerro Gordo; and which, they prophesied, would end in triumphant possession, not now of the Halls of the Montezumas, but of the White House of American Presidents. The meeting lasted two days. Thomas Ewing, of Ohio, acted as president, and among the speakers was Henry Winter Davis.

But this was the only demonstration that recalled the Harrison campaign. The drum and cannon did conspicuous work, flags floated, and speakers found ready and patriotic listeners, but the hearts of many people were not enlisted in the discussion of tariffs and public improvements. They were thinking of the fugitive slave law and its enforcement, and some believed that while speakers and editors were charging Pierce with cowardice on the field of Churubusco they did not themselves have the courage to voice their honest convictions on the slavery question. As election drew near signs of victory disappeared. Conservative Whigs did not like the candidate and anti-slavery Whigs objected to the platform. "This wretched platform," Seward declared, "was contrived to defeat Scott in the nomination, or to sink him in the canvass."[416] Horace Greeley's spirited protest against the fugitive slave plank gave rise to the phrase, "We accept the candidate, but spit upon the platform." Among the business men of New York City an impression obtained that if Scott became President, Seward would control him; and their purpose to crush the soldier seemed to centre not so much in hostility to Scott as in their desire to destroy Seward. Greeley speaks of this "extraordinary feature" of the campaign. "Seward has been the burden of our adversaries' song from the outset," he writes; "and mercantile Whigs by thousands have ever been ready not merely to defeat but to annihilate the Whig party if they might thereby demolish Seward."[417] In answer to the charge of influencing Scott's administration, the Senator promptly declared that he would neither ask nor accept "any public station or preferment whatever at the hands of the President."[418] But this in nowise silenced their batteries. To the end of the canvass Scott continued to be advertised as the "Seward candidate."

[Footnote 416: F.W. Seward, _Life of W.H. Seward_, Vol. 2, p. 188.

"Many thought: the voice is Jacob's voice, but the hands are the hands of Esau. Seward was the political juggler, or Mephistopheles, as some called him, and the result was regarded as his triumph."--James F. Rhodes, _History of the United States_, Vol. 1, p. 262. "Some of the prominent Whig newspapers of Georgia declined to sustain Scott, because his election would mean Free-soilism and Sewardism. An address was issued on July 3 by Alexander H. Stephens, Robert Toombs, and five other Whig representatives, in which they flatly refused to support Scott because he was 'the favourite candidate of the Free Soil wing of the Whig party.'"--_Ibid._, p. 262.]

[Footnote 417: New York _Tribune_, October, 1852.]

[Footnote 418: _Seward's Works_, Vol. 3, p. 416. Date of letter, June 26, 1852.]

After the September elections, it became manifest that something must be done to strengthen Whig sentiment, and Scott made a trip through the doubtful States of Ohio and New York. Although Harrison had made several speeches in 1840, there was no precedent for a presidential stumping tour; and, to veil the purpose of the journey, recourse was had to a statute authorising the general of the army to visit Kentucky with the object of locating an asylum for sick and disabled soldiers at Blue Lick Springs. He went from Washington by way of Pittsburg and returned through New York, stopping at Buffalo, Niagara Falls, Lockport, Rochester, Auburn, Syracuse, Rome, Utica, and Albany. Everywhere great crowds met him, but cheers for the hero mingled with cheers for a Democratic victory in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Indiana, indicating the certain election of Pierce in November. At Auburn, Seward referred to him as "the greatest of American heroes since the Revolutionary age." At Albany, John C. Spencer's presence recalled the distinguished services of Governor Tompkins and Chief Justice Ambrose Spencer in the War of 1812. "It was these men," said Scott, "who were aware of the position on the frontier, that urged me on to achieve something that would add to the future honour of our country." New York City received him with one of the largest ovations ever witnessed up to that time. He avoided politics in his speeches, insisting that he did not come to solicit votes. But he did not thereby help his cause or escape ridicule. Indeed, the ill-advised things said and done, created the impression that obtained thirty-two years later after the tour of James G. Blaine.

Though the Democrats at first accepted Franklin Pierce as they had received James K. Polk, coldness and distrust gradually disappeared. At Tammany's Fourth of July celebration, the presence of the prominent leaders who bolted in 1848 gave evidence of the party's reunion. The chief speaker was John Van Buren. Upon the platform sat John A. Dix, Preston King, and Churchill C. Cambreling. Of the letters read, one came from Martin Van Buren, who expressed pleasure that "the disturbing subject of slavery has, by the action of both the great parties of the country, been withdrawn from the canvass." Among the editors who contributed most powerfully to the Free-soil movement, William Cullen Bryant now supported Pierce on the theory that he and the platform were the more favourable to freedom.[419] John Van Buren's spacious mind and his genius for giving fascination to whatever he said convulsed his audience with wit and thrilled it with forceful statements. The country, he declared, was tired of the agitation of slavery, which had ceased to be a political question. It only remained to enforce in good faith the great compromise. He asserted that trade was good and the country prosperous, and that the Democratic party had gained the confidence of the people because it was a party of pacification, opposed to the agitation of slavery, insistent upon sacredly observing the compromises of the Constitution, and certain to bring settled political conditions.

[Footnote 419: "The argument of the _Post_, that the Democratic candidate and platform were really more favourable to liberty than the Whig, was somewhat strained; the editor failed to look the situation squarely in the face. He was, however, acting in perfect harmony with the prominent New York Democrats who had, four years previously, bolted the regular nomination. Salmon P. Chase, although still a Democrat, would not support Pierce, but gave his adherence to the Free-soil nominations, and tried hard, though in vain, to bring to their support his former New York associates."--James F. Rhodes, _History of the United States_, Vol. 1, pp. 264-65.]

Prince John proved himself equal to the occasion. If no longer the great apostle of the Free-soilers he was now the accepted champion of the Democracy. He had said what everybody believed who voted for Pierce and what many people thought who voted for Scott. There is no doubt his speech created an immense sensation. Greeley ridiculed it, Weed belittled it, and the Free-soilers denounced it, but it became the keynote of the campaign, and the Prince, with his rich, brilliant copiousness that was never redundant, became the picturesque and popular speaker of every platform. There were other Democratic orators.[420] Charles O'Conor's speeches were masterpieces of declamation, and James T. Brady, then thirty-seven years old, but already famous as one of the foremost criminal lawyers of the time, discovered the same magnetic eloquence that made him almost irresistible before a jury. His sentences, rounded and polished, rolled from his mouth in perfect balance. Van Buren was kaleidoscopic, becoming by turn humourous, sarcastic, gravely logical, and famously witty; Brady and O'Conor inclined to severity, easily dropping into vituperation, and at times exhibiting bitterness. Van Buren's hardest hits came in the form of sarcasm. It mattered not who heard him, all went away good-natured and satisfied with the entertainment. There were moments when laughter drowned his loudest utterances, when silence made his whispers audible, and when an eloquent epigram moistened the eye.

[Footnote 420: John A. Dix spoke in the New England and the Middle States. From October 11 to 29 he made thirteen speeches "in the great canvass which is upon us."--Morgan Dix, _Memoirs of John A. Dix_, Vol. 1, pp. 269, 271.]

The election proved a Waterloo to the Whigs. Twenty-seven States gave majorities for Pierce, only four were for Scott. Seymour ran 22,000 votes ahead of Hunt.[421] In the Assembly the Democrats numbered eighty-five, the Whigs forty-three. Of the thirty-three congressmen, the Democrats elected twenty-one, the Whigs ten, the Free-soilers and Land Reformers one each. It was wittily said that the Whig party "died of an attempt to swallow the fugitive slave law." The election of Pierce and Seymour surprised none of the Whig leaders. Thurlow Weed, convinced of the hopelessness of Whig success, went off to Europe for six months preceding the campaign. The _Tribune_ talked of victory, but in his private correspondence Greeley declared that "we shall lose the Legislature and probably everything at home."

[Footnote 421: Horatio Seymour, 264,121; Washington Hunt, 241,525.--_Civil List, State of New York_ (1887), p. 166.]

Winfield Scott seems to have been the only man really surprised. "He looked forward buoyantly to an easy and triumphant victory," says Weed, who dined with him on a Sunday in October.[422] But, though Pierce's election produced no surprise, his majority of 212 electoral votes astounded everybody. It eclipsed the result of the romantic campaign of 1840, and seemed to verify the assertions of John Van Buren, in his Fourth of July speech at Tammany Hall. The people were not only tired of slavery agitation, but trade was good, the country prosperous, and a reunited Democracy, by unreservedly indorsing the compromise measures of 1850, promised settled conditions.

[Footnote 422: Thurlow Weed Barnes, _Life of Thurlow Weed_, Vol. 2, p. 219.]

It is not without historical interest to notice that Gerrit Smith, one of the most uncompromising opponents of slavery in any country, received an election to Congress in a district that gave Pierce and Seymour upward of one thousand majority. It showed that the smouldering fire, which had suddenly blazed out in the Free-soil campaign of 1848, was not extinguished by the coalition of Barnburners and Hunkers, and the acceptance of the great compromise by the two Baltimore conventions. Gerrit Smith was a noble example of the champions of freedom. He had not the passion of Garrison, or the genius of Henry Ward Beecher; but his deep voice of marvellous richness, the grace and dignity of his person, and the calm, gentle, dispassionate tone in which he declared his principles without fear, was to command the earnest and respectful attention of the national House of Representatives.