Fifty Years of Public Service Part 9

I attended the second inauguration, March 4, 1865. I have a particularly vivid recollection of the scene which took place in the Senate chamber when Mr. Johnson took the oath as Vice-President.

The simple truth is, and it was plain to every one present in that chamber, Mr. Johnson was intoxicated. Johnson delivered a rambling, senseless address. I sat next to Senator Lane of Indiana, and I remarked that somebody should stop him. Lane sent up a note to the Secretary of the Senate, telling him to get Johnson to cease speaking and take the oath. We felt Johnson was making an exhibition of himself in the presence of the President, the Cabinet, the Foreign Representatives, and two Houses of Congress, and a gathering of the most distinguished men of the Nation. The Secretary wrote some lines and placed them before Mr. Johnson, who did not appear to notice them. Finally he was made to understand that he must take the oath, as the time had come when the President, according to usual custom, would have to go to the east front of the Capitol to take the oath as President of the United States. Johnson, with a sort of wild sweep of his arm said, "I will take the oath, but I regard my devotion to the Union as greater evidence of my loyalty than any oath I could take."

I was close to Mr. Lincoln at the solemn moment when Chief Justice Chase administered to him the oath of office. There was a vast crowd of people, great enthusiasm and rejoicing, and the war was practically over,--a far different scene from the one which took place just four years before, when Chief Justice Taney in the same place administered the same oath. At that time there was no noisy demonstration. There was a solemn hush, as every one realized that the country was about to be plunged into one of the mightiest civil wars of all history. Indeed many men believed that there was a concerted plot to a.s.sa.s.sinate Mr. Lincoln at that time, and that he would never be permitted to enter upon the duties of his office.

I heard him deliver his second inaugural address,--one of his two greatest speeches.

The last time I saw Abraham Lincoln alive was about three weeks before his a.s.sa.s.sination, as I now recollect. He was at the White House. There had been constant rumors throughout his first term that he was in danger of some such outrage, but as the war drew to a close, with the natural bitter and resentful feeling in the South, these rumors seemed to increase. I told him what I had heard, and urged him to be careful. It did not seem to concern him much, and the substance of his reply was that he must take his chances; that he could not live in an iron box, as he expressed it, and do his duty as President of the United States.

It is difficult for one who did not live in those terrible days from 1861 to 1865 to realize the awful shock of horror that went through the whole Nation on the morning of April 15, 1865, when the message came, "Abraham Lincoln is dead." In his old home at Springfield, it seemed the whole population a.s.sembled in the public square, and the duty devolved upon me to announce to the a.s.sembled people that the great President had pa.s.sed away. There was intense suppressed excitement. No one dared utter a word in disparagement of Abraham Lincoln. The crowd was in the humor for hanging to the limb of the first convenient tree any one who dared to make a slighting suggestion. It was not alone in Springfield, but it was throughout the entire North that this feeling prevailed. There was fear that the Government would go to pieces, almost that the end of the world was at hand.

Soon the news came from different sources that he was to be buried in Washington, or somewhere in the East. The people of Springfield became very much worked up. A committee was appointed to go to Washington to insist that the remains should be taken to Springfield.

I was a member of this committee. We left immediately, but before we arrived at Harrisburg it had been determined that the only fitting final resting place of all that remained of the immortal Lincoln was at his old home in Springfield; and the funeral train had already left Washington. The committee waited at Harrisburg for its arrival. Through the courtesy of Governor Curtin, of Pennsylvania, we were permitted to board the train, and we accompanied the remains from there to Philadelphia, New York, Albany, Buffalo, Cleveland, Indianapolis, Chicago, and finally to Springfield. At each place the remains lay in state and were viewed by hundreds of thousands of people.

In all, the entire journey consumed some twelve days from the time the party left Washington until it arrived in Springfield. It was determined that the funeral train should follow the same route and stop at practically the same places that Lincoln visited on his way to Washington to be inaugurated as the first Republican President of the United States. The country was so wrought up no one seemed certain what was to happen; no one knew but that there would be a second and bloodier revolution, in which the Government might fall into the hands of a dictator; and it was thought the funeral trip would serve to arouse the patriotism of the people, which it did.

I never witnessed anything like the universal demonstration of sorrow, not only at every city where the remains lay in state but all during the entire route, at every little village and hamlet; even at cross-roads thousands of people would be gathered to catch a glimpse of the funeral train as it pa.s.sed by. In Philadelphia the casket rested in Independence Hall. In New York I suppose not less than half a million people pa.s.sed by to view the body. General Scott came down with the procession to the station, and to him I introduced our Illinois friends. His response was given in a most dignified and ponderous style: "Gentlemen, you do me great honor."

The farther west we proceeded, drawing constantly nearer to the home of Lincoln, the more wrought up the people seemed to be. In the West there were not only expressions of deep sorrow, but of vengeance as well, especially toward the South. Before the facts became fully known, it was thought that the a.s.sa.s.sination was the result of a Southern conspiracy, and there was a feeling that the whole South should be punished for the act of one of her misguided sons. The body lay in state for two days in Chicago, and then came the last stage of the journey to Springfield. It first was taken to the State House, and was afterwards placed in the old vault at the foot of the hill in Oak Ridge Cemetery, where it remained until the monument was completed. Bishop Simpson, one of the most eloquent men in the Methodist Church, and a devoted friend of Mr. Lincoln during his life, preached the funeral sermon. The services at Springfield were simple in the extreme, just as Mr. Lincoln would have wished. Steps were at once taken for the erection of the monument, which stands in Oak Ridge Cemetery to-day.

So far as I can learn, every member of the funeral party that accompanied the remains of Abraham Lincoln from Washington to Springfield, with the exception of Mr. E. F. Leonard and myself, has pa.s.sed away.

It was my good fortune to know Abraham Lincoln in all the walks of life. I knew him as President, and I was permitted to know him in the sacred precincts of his family at home. I have studied the lives of the great men of the world, and I do not hesitate to say now, after nearly fifty years have pa.s.sed away since his death, that Abraham Lincoln was the peer in all that makes a man great, useful, and n.o.ble, of any man in all the world's history.

CHAPTER VIII NOTABLES IN THE THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS 1864 to 1870

I had a very active campaign for election to Congress in 1864. As I have stated elsewhere, I had, while Speaker, so framed the district that I thought it would surely be a Republican one; but very much to my surprise, it went Democratic when Mr. Swett was a candidate.

For a number of reasons I was more than anxious to carry the district. First, naturally I did not want to be defeated; second, I wanted to show that it was really a Republican district, and more especially still on President Lincoln's account, I was solicitous that a Republican should be elected from the President's own district, as was President Lincoln also. The National Committee a.s.sisted a good deal, and the President himself helped whenever there was an opportunity. I was elected by a good, safe majority, and entered the Thirty-ninth Congress in December, 1865.

The Illinois delegation in the Thirty-ninth Congress, when I entered the House, while containing few members, still compared favorably with other delegations, and consisted of very good men who reflected credit on the State, and some of whom had far more than ordinary ability. General John A. Logan, of whom I have written in another part of these memoirs, was a very prominent member of the delegation and of the House. E. B. Washburne was also a leading member. He was very influential, and at one time was in a sense the leader of the House. He early became prominent as one of the intimate friends and supporters of General Grant, who, every one supposed, would be the nominee of the Republican party to succeed President Johnson.

Thaddeus Stevens was the real leader on every occasion when he chose to a.s.sume that position. His whole interest, however, seemed to be concentrated on reconstruction, one of the greatest problems that has ever confronted this country, and consequently he gave little attention to general legislation. This gave Washburne quite a commanding voice in shaping the general legislation of the House.

John Wentworth was one of the best known citizens of Chicago of his day, and was closely identified with the early history of the city. He was several times a member of the House. I found him to be a capable member of the Thirty-ninth Congress, a man of influence, and I liked him very much. He was Mayor of Chicago when President Lincoln was a.s.sa.s.sinated, and I recall that he was at the station at the head of the committee when the funeral train arrived in Chicago. John Wentworth was quite a character in our State politics, but he was particularly noted as being one of the foremost citizens of his home city.

Burton C. Cook, of Ottawa, was one of the ablest men in the Illinois delegation. He was a splendid man, a man of high character, one of the leaders of the bar of the State of Illinois, and retired from Congress to become general counsel of the Northwestern Railroad.

He occupied a very important place in the House, and was chairman of the Committee on the District of Columbia. He could not endure ridicule, and he was not particularly quick in argument, although a very good debater.

A rather humorous incident occurred on one occasion when he was pushing a bill to have Pennsylvania Avenue paved. Proctor Knott, from Kentucky, was then a member of the House, and one of its cleverest and wittiest speakers. I was called to the chair because Cook knew that I would take care of him the best I could in the conduct of the bill through the committee of the whole. We got along with the bill very well for a good part of the day, until Knott took the floor and made one of his incomparably funny speeches, depicting the situation on Pennsylvania Avenue, with its fine carriages and outfits, with buckles on the coachmen's hats as big as garden gates. He made so much fun of the bill that Cook, being unable to stand it, moved that the committee rise. We never heard of the bill afterwards.

S. S. Marshall, a Democrat from Southern Illinois, and prominent as such, was a member of Congress for many terms, and at one time was the leader of the minority in the House. At that time the Democrats in the House were so few in number that occasionally they were unable to secure the ayes and noes. They exercised very little influence on legislation, and were not much in evidence in debate, the main contest then being between the radical and conservative elements of the Republican party over Reconstruction.

General John F. Farnsworth of St. Charles was quite influential as a member, and a very strong man, but was particularly noted for his dauntless courage. On one occasion I saw him shake his fist in General Benjamin F. Butler's face, daring him to resent it.

Butler did not resent it, as the House was in session; and, any way, excepting with his tongue, Butler was not a fighting man.

Ebon C. Ingersoll, who was familiarly called by his friends Clark Ingersoll, served in that Congress. He was a very clever man, possessed of considerable talent, and could on occasions deliver a capitally witty speech. I remember a rather ingenious pa.s.sage from one of his speeches delivered when the controversy between the President and Congress was at its height. He a.s.serted that the country was sorely afflicted; that it suffered all sorts of troubles, trials, embarra.s.sments and difficulties. First, he said, it was afflicted with cholera, next with trichinae, and then with Andy Johnson, all in the same year, and that was more than any country could stand. Ebon C. Ingersoll was a brother of the famous Robert G. Ingersoll, the world's greatest agnostic.

Robert G. Ingersoll was one of the most eloquent men whom I have ever heard. He could utter the most beautiful sentiments clothed in language equally beautiful. Speaking of death and the hereafter one day, I heard him express himself in about the same language he afterward used on the lecture platform. It made a wonderful impression on me. He said:

"And suppose after all that death does end all? Next to eternal joy, next to being forever with those we love and those who have loved us, next to that, is to be wrapt in the dreamless drapery of eternal peace. Next to eternal life is eternal sleep. Upon the shadowy sh.o.r.e of death, the sea of trouble casts no wave. Eyes that have been curtained by the everlasting dark, will never know again the burning touch of tears. Lips touched by eternal silence will never speak again the broken words of grief. Hearts of dust do not break. The dead do not weep. Within the tomb no veiled and weeping sorrow sits, and in the rayless gloom is crouched no shuddering fear.

"I had rather think of those I have loved, and lost, as having returned to earth, as having become a part of the elemental wealth of the world--I would rather think of them as unconscious dust, I would rather dream of them as gurgling in the streams, floating in the clouds, bursting in the form of light upon the sh.o.r.es of worlds, I would rather think of them as the lost visions of a forgotten night, than to have even the faintest fear that their naked souls have been clutched by an orthodox G.o.d. I will leave my dear where Nature leaves them. Whatever flower of hope springs up in my heart, I will cherish, I will give it breath of sighs and rain of tears.

But I cannot believe that there is any being in this universe who has been created for eternal pain."

Had it not been for the manner in which Robert Ingersoll outraged the members of every Christian denomination by attacking and ridiculing their beliefs, he would certainly have been called to high office in the Nation. He did not spare any denomination.

Beginning with the Catholics and ending with the Baptists, he abused them all, made fun of them, and mercilessly pointed out their weak points. He was always particularly bitter against the Presbyterian Church, because, he declared, he was raised a Presbyterian, and knew more about that church than any other. The two brothers were very fond of each other, and Ebon C. never seemed to tire of talking about his brother's great talent. Robert G. was nearly broken- hearted when his brother died. One of the most touching and eloquent addresses which I have ever heard was the address he delivered on the occasion of Ebon's funeral. He stood at the head of the casket and once or twice nearly broke down. It was in that address, standing there in the presence of death, that he expressed some doubts as to the truth of his own teaching and intimated the possibility of some life beyond the grave. This was the only public occasion of which I have any knowledge in which Robert G. Ingersoll seemed to falter in his course.

We were very intimate, and it is a real pleasure to me to pay him here a tribute. He was a man of extraordinary talent and ability, one of the most lovable natures, and a man of the cleanest, most delightful home life. In many respects, I regard him as one of the greatest men of his day; certainly he was the greatest agnostic of his time, if not of all time. No one has taken his place. The very name, Agnostic, is now rarely heard. And why? Because Robert G. Ingersoll mercilessly tore down. He did not create, or build anything; he attempted to take away the beliefs in all religion, and he offered nothing in return. Hence it is that his teachings have practically died with him.

Another member of the Illinois delegation in the Thirty-ninth Congress, a well-known citizen of the State, was Anthony Thornton.

He had been a member of the Supreme Court of the State, was a fine lawyer of the best type of manhood, and he enjoyed the confidence and respect of the members of the House. He resided in Shelbyville, but after retiring from Congress he decided to go to Decatur, where there was more business for a lawyer, and better opportunities.

He did not succeed very well, however, because it was too late in his life to make a change and enter new fields.

A little incident connected with him occurred while I was Governor of the State. A young boy, whose parents the Judge knew, committed a burglary and was sent to the penitentiary. The parents of the boy were naturally anxious to get him out, and appealed to Judge Thornton to a.s.sist in securing his pardon. The Judge and I had served in Congress together, and, naturally, any plea bearing his endors.e.m.e.nt would have great weight with me. Believing that the boy had been influenced by bad companions, he yielded and came to Springfield to see me. I looked the case over and finally said:

"Judge Thornton, you are an older man than I am; you were in Congress with me; you have been a Judge of the Supreme Court of the State; if you will say that you would issue this pardon if you occupied the chair I now occupy as Governor of this State, I will pardon him."

He replied: "Governor, I would not ask you to do a thing I would not do myself, to save my right arm."

Whereupon I at once issued the pardon.

"Judge," I told him, "the train will leave in a short time; go to Joliet and take the boy home with you."

He did not do this; but he thanked me very cordially and said that he would see the boy as soon as he got home. The very night the boy left the penitentiary and returned home, he committed another burglary and was immediately arrested. I happened to see an account of the crime in the papers next morning, and I cut it out and sent it to Judge Thornton, with the inquiry, "Judge, what does this mean?" He at once came to Springfield, and told me that he had been fooled in prevailing upon me to pardon the young man, and pledged me that he would follow him to the ends of the earth if necessary in order to punish him for his crime. The boy was sent back to the penitentiary and I never heard of him afterwards.

Judge Thornton was one of the most honorable of men, a man of learning and legal ability as well.

One day, before I was elected to the Thirty-ninth Congress, President Lincoln was talking with me about the different members of that body. "There is a young man by the name of Blaine now serving in Congress," said he, "who seems to be one of the brightest men in the House. His speeches are always short, always full of facts, and always forcible. I am very fond of him. He is one of the coming men of the country."

This was one of the reasons why I was early attracted to Mr. Blaine.

He was candidate for Speaker in the Forty-first Congress. I was rather zealous in his behalf, and had more or less of a prominent part in his selection. When Mr. Blaine concluded that he would be a candidate for the Speakership, a little dinner was given at Welkers', a rather famous restaurant in Washington, at which Judge Kelley, Judge Orth, the late Senator Allison, who was then a member of the House from the State of Iowa; Mr. Mercur of Pennsylvania, the gentleman at the head of the a.s.sociated Press in Washington, and myself were present. After the dinner it was given out to the press that Mr. Blaine was a candidate for Speaker. As the campaign progressed it seemed to depend on Mr. Allison and me more largely than on any other members to take care of his interests. He was elected Speaker, and I had been given to understand by him, and had so communicated to friends in Congress whom I had induced to support Mr. Blaine, that I should be consulted in the make-up of the committees. Mr. Blaine never said a word to me on the subject, but almost at the last moment wrote me this note:

"Dear Cullom:

"Which committee would you prefer, Territories or Claims?

"James G. Blaine."

I selected Territories and became chairman of that committee.

Allison told me he never spoke to him in reference to committees, although he gave him important a.s.signments.

Probably the most bitter enemy Mr. Blaine ever had in public life was Roscoe Conkling, a Senator from New York. The quarrel between Blaine and Conkling commenced in the Thirty-ninth Congress, over some very trivial matter, and continued from that time on until Blaine was nominated as the candidate of the Republican party for the Presidency, in 1884, in which contest he was defeated by Grover Cleveland.

I occupied a seat next to Mr. Conkling during the early years of my service in Congress. He was a very friendly, companionable man, especially to any one whom he did not consider a rival, and, as I was a young man just entering Congress and politics, he gave me his friendship. I was present, sitting next to Conkling, when the famous controversy in the House took place between Blaine and Conkling. During the session, from time to time, they had been quarreling. Conkling had seemed to have a little the best of the argument. Blaine became exasperated one day, and in the course of the debate gave Conkling the worst "tongue lashing" probably ever given by one man to another on the floor of the House. Conkling, although unable to reply effectively, demeaned himself with great dignity. His manners were placid and his reply was in measured terms. It was in striking contrast to what Mr. Blaine said. To use a phrase graphic if inelegant, he jumped on Conkling with both feet and literally tore him to pieces without any attempt at dignity.

This controversy with Conkling probably caused the defeat of Mr.

Blaine for the nomination--first, in conventions prior to 1884, and finally after he became the nominee of that year.

Blaine was a candidate for President for many years. It seemed to be his destiny, as it was that of Henry Clay, to be able to secure the nomination only when the Republican party went down in defeat, as it did for the first time since the election of Lincoln. He was beaten in the Republican National Conventions by men of mediocre ability when the party was victorious.