Something of Men I Have Known Part 23

At a banquet in Washington in the winter of 1880-81, a large number of Representatives were present. Among the number were Reed, McKinley, Cannon, and Keifer. These gentlemen were all prospective candidates for the Speakership of the then recently elected House of Representatives. The best of feeling prevailed, and the occasion was one of rare enjoyment and mirth. Each candidate in turn was introduced by the toast-master as "the Speaker of the next House,"

and in his speech each claimed all the others as his enthusiastic and reliable supporters. The apparent confidence of each candidate in the support of his rivals reminded Mr. Cannon of the experience of an Illinois legislator, which he requested his colleague from the Bloomington district to relate.

That the reader may appreciate the incident then related, some mention must be made of Dr. Thomas P. Rogers of Bloomington. He was a gentleman of the old school, a politician from the beginning, of inflexible integrity and an earnestness of purpose that knew no shadow of turning. He was as devoid of any possible touch of humor as was his own marble bust of Thomas Jefferson. He was the personal friend of Lincoln and of Douglas, and the political follower of the latter. The fondness of a mother for her first-born hardly exceeded that of Dr. Rogers for the party of his choice. Any uncomplimentary allusion to his "principles" was considered a personal injury, and his devotion to party leaders, from Jackson to Douglas, savored of idolatry. Some camp-meeting experiences in early life had given zest and tone to his style of oratory, which stood him well in hand in his many political encounters of a later day.

For three consecutive terms the Doctor had been a member of the Legislature, and his record from every point of view was without a blemish. At his fourth election, it was found that for the first time in a decade or more his party had secured a majority in the House, to which the Doctor had just been elected. The goal of his ambition was the Speakership, and it truly seemed that his hour had now come.

Soon after these facts were known beyond peradventure, the Doctor came one day into my office. After election matters had been talked over at length and with much satisfaction, the Doctor modestly intimated a desire to be a candidate for the Speakership. I at once gave him the promise of my earnest support and inquired whether he had any friends upon whom he could rely in the approaching caucus. He a.s.sured me that there were four members of the last House re-elected to this, upon whom he knew he could absolutely depend under all circ.u.mstances. Upon my inquiry as to their names, he said:

"Hadlai,"--the Doctor, it may be here mentioned, had from my boyhood kindly given me the benefit of an "H" to which I laid no claim and was in no way ent.i.tled--"Hadlai, you take your pencil and take down their names as I give them to you."

I at once took my seat, and pencil in hand, looked inquiringly toward the Doctor.

"Hadlai," he continued, "put down Heise of Cook. John and I have been friends for more than thirty years; I worked for him for a delegate-at-large to the last National Convention, and he told me then, 'Doctor, if there is anything I can do for you, just let me know.'"

To which I replied, "Heise of Cook, dead sure," and his name was at once placed in the Rogers column.

"Now, Hadlai," continued the Doctor, "there is Armstrong of La Salle; Wash and I were boys together in Ohio, and sat side by side in the Charleston Convention when we were trying to nominate Douglas.

He has told me more than once that if ever we carried the House, he was for me for Speaker above any man on earth." At which I unhesitatingly placed Armstrong of La Salle in the same column with Heise of Cook.

"Now, Hadlai," continued the Doctor, after a moment's pause, "there is c.u.mmins of Fulton; I helped elect Jim Chairman of the last State Convention, and he has told me again and again that he hoped he would live to see me Speaker, so I can count on Jim without doubt."

I at once placed c.u.mmins in the column of honor with Heise and Armstrong, and calmly awaited further instructions.

"Now, Hadlai, there is Moore of Adams; Alf got into trouble over a bill he had in the last Legislature; he could neither get it out of the committee, nor the committee to take any action, so he came over to my seat terribly worried, and says he, 'Doctor, for G.o.d's sake, get me out of this!' I did, Hadlai, and Alf was the most grateful man you ever saw on earth, and told me then, 'Doctor, I would get up at two o'clock at night to do you a favor.' I can safely count on him."

It is needless to say that Moore of Adams rounded out the quartette of faithful supporters.

"Now, Hadlai," remarked the Doctor, after contemplating with apparent satisfaction the list I had handed him, "if you will give me some paper and envelopes and a pen and some stamps, if you have them handy, I will write to all of them now." The articles mentioned were produced, the letters written, stamped, and duly mailed, and the good Doctor departed in an exceedingly comfortable frame of mind.

Time pa.s.ses, as is its wont; but for some weeks I neither saw nor heard from the Doctor. Meeting him on the street at length, I at once inquired whether he had received replies to his letters.

"Come into the office, Hadlai, and I will explain." Pained to observe that the tone and air of confidence so perceptible in our last interview was lacking, I followed with some misgiving into his office.

"Yes, Hadlai," he slowly began, "I have heard from all of them.

Heise of Cook [the familiar appellations of the former interview were wanting] writes a.s.suring me that there is no man living for whom he entertains a more profound respect then for myself, Hadlai; but that owing to unforseen complications arising in his county, he has reluctantly consented _to allow his own name_ to be presented to the caucus."

The name of Heise of Cook was immediately stricken from the head of the list. Then a reverie into which the Doctor had fallen was at length disturbed by my inquiry, "What about Armstrong?"

"Yes, Hadlai, Armstrong of La Salle writes me that in his judgment there is no man living so deserving of the grat.i.tude of the party, or so well qualified for the office of Speaker as myself, but that the pressure from his const.i.tuents has been so great that he has _finally consented to allow his own name_ to be presented to the caucus."

"Fare-you-well, Mr. Armstrong," was my hurried observation, as the name of that gentleman disappeared from my list.

Arousing the Doctor at length from the reverie into which he had again fallen, I ventured to inquire as to the state of mind of Mr.

c.u.mmins.

"Yes, Hadlai, c.u.mmins of Fulton says that in a certain contingency _he will himself be a candidate,_ and Moore of Adams writes me that _he is a candidate!"_

It may not be out of place to supplement this little narrative by relating an incident that ill.u.s.trates the fact that a man wholly devoid of any sense of humor himself may at times be the unconscious cause of amus.e.m.e.nt in others.

Imprimis: The Doctor, while a member of the General a.s.sembly, voted for a measure known in local parlance as "the Lake Front Bill." The criticisms which followed vexed his righteous soul, and he patiently awaited the opportunity for public explanation and personal vindication.

Now it so fell out that at the time whereof we write there was much excitement--a tempest in a tea-pot--in the little city of Bloomington, over a change in "readers" recently ordered in the schools by the Board of Education. After much discussion on the streets and at the corners, a public indignation meeting was called for Sat.u.r.day evening at the east door of the Court-house. Meanwhile the indignation against the offending Board intensified, and there was some apprehension even of serious trouble. At the appointed time and place, the meeting a.s.sembled and was duly organized by the selection of a Chairman. Calls at once began for well-known orators at the bar and upon the hustings. "Ewing," "Fifer," "Rowell," "Prince,"

"Lillard," "Phillips," "Kerrick," "Weldon," were heard from the crowd in rapid succession. It was like "calling spirits from the vasty deep." No response was given, no orator appeared; and, as is well known, an indignation meeting without an orator is as impossible as "Hamlet" with the Prince of Denmark omitted.

But sure enough--

"Fortune sometimes brings in boats that are not steered."

At the auspicious moment, from the rear of the crowd Tom Hullinger called out, "Doctor Rogers, Doctor Rogers!" The hour had struck.

Without waiting further call, the Doctor promptly took the stand and waiving the formality of an introduction, began:

"I am deeply gratified to have this opportunity to explain to my fellow-citizens who have known me from my early manhood my vote upon the Lake Front Bill," _and a two-hour vindication immediately followed._ No allusion being made to the object of the meeting, or the change of school-books, of which the Doctor knew as little and cared as little as he did of the thirteenth century controversy between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, with the waning hours the excitement subsided. The change of readers became a dead issue; the era of good feeling was restored; and to this blessed hour, except in a spirit of mirth, _the school-book question has never been mentioned._

XX A LAWYER OF THE OLD SCHOOL

JUDGE ARRINGTON, THE IDEAL LAWYER--EULOGIZED BY OTHER JUDGES--BOOKS HIS EARLY COMPANIONS--BECOMES SUCCESSIVELY A METHODIST PREACHER, A LAWYER, AND A JUDGE--WRITES SOME SKETCHES OF LIFE IN THE SOUTHWEST --HIS APOSTROPHE TO WATER RECITED BY GOUGH.

In the old Supreme Court-room at Ottawa, almost a half-century ago, I saw and heard Judge Alfred A. Arrington for the first time. For two hours I listened with the deepest attention to his masterly argument in a cause then exciting much interest because of the large amount involved. The dry question of law under discussion, "as if touched by the enchanter's wand," was at once invested with an interest far beyond its wont. As I listened to the argument of Judge Arrington, and witnessed the manner of its delivery, he appeared in the most comprehensive sense the ideal lawyer. He seemed, indeed, as he probably was, the sole survivor of the school of which Wirt and Pinckney were three generations ago the typical representatives. His dignified bearing, old-time apparel, and lofty courtesy toward the Court and opposing counsel, all strengthened this impression. He had a highly attractive appearance, and as was said by a contemporary, "to crown all, a ma.s.sive Websterian forehead, needing no seal to give the world a.s.surance of a man."

"Sage he stood, With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air."

Since then I have listened to advocates of national renown in our great court and in the Senate sitting as a High Court of Impeachment, but at no time or place have I heard an abler, more scholarly, or more eloquent argument than that of Judge Arrington in the old court-room at Ottawa, Illinois, on that day long gone by.

The most eminent members of the Chicago bar were the eulogists of Judge Arrington when he pa.s.sed to his grave, near the close of the great Civil War. Judge Wilson, in presenting resolutions in honor of the deceased, voiced the sentiments of his a.s.sociates when he said:

"For more than thirty years at the bar and upon the bench, I have been a.s.sociated with the legal profession; and I may say without offence that of the many able men I have known I regard Judge Arrington, take him all in all, as the ablest."

The venerable Judge Drummond said:

"I have rarely heard a man whose efforts so constantly riveted the attention from the beginning to the close of his discourse. For while he trod with firm and steady steps the path of logic, his vivid imagination was constantly scattering on each side flowers of fragrant beauty, to the wonder and delight of all who heard him.

He was a great lawyer in the highest and largest sense of the term --great in the extent and thoroughness of his legal learning, in the vigor and acuteness of his reasoning, and in the power of his eloquence."

The Hon. Melville W. Fuller, the present Chief Justice of the United States, said:

"When he arose to discuss a question, he exhibited a perfect knowledge of every phase in which it could be presented; and men never grew weary (especially if the argument involved Const.i.tutional construction, in which department he stood _primus inter ill.u.s.tres_) of admiring the amplitude of his legal attainments, the accuracy of his learning, the compactness of his logic, and the majestic flow of his eloquence, and more than all, that firmness and breadth of mind which lifted him above the ordinary contest of the forum.

"It is a source of the deepest consolation that he found peace at the last; that the grand spirit, before it took its everlasting flight, reposed in confidence on the Book of Books; that its departure was illumined by that precious light which ever renders radiant the brief darkness 'twixt mortal twilight and immortal dawn."

And yet, alas, his name has now almost pa.s.sed from the memories of men; the veil of time has settled over him; no distinct image is recalled by the mention of his name. How suggestive this, of the ephemeral fame of even a great lawyer:

"Swift as shadow, short as any dream Brief as the lightning in the collied night."

Words long since uttered by an eminent jurist have not lost their significance:

"There is, perhaps, no reputation that can be achieved amongst men that is so transitory, so evanescent, as that of a great advocate.

The very wand that enchants us is magical. Its effects can be felt; it influences our actions; it controls and possesses us; but to define it, or tell what it is, or how it produces these effects, is as far beyond our power as to imprison the sunbeam. In the presence of such majestic power we can only stand awed and silent."