From Canal Boy to President; Or, the Boyhood and Manhood of James A. Garfield by - (whitelam books txt) 📕

for its salutary effect on public opinion; Samuel J. Randall, now Speaker; John A. Griswold, of New York; William Windom, one of the silent members, who has grown steadily in power; James F. Wilson, who was destined to decline three successive offers of Cabinet positions by President Grant; Daniel W. Voorhies, of Indiana, now Senator; John A. Kasson, of Iowa, now our Minister to Austria; Theodore M. Pomeroy, of New York, afterward Acting Speaker for a brief period; William R. Morrison, of Illinois, since a Democratic candidate for the Presidency; William S. Holman and George W. Julian, of Indiana, both able men; and Fernando Wood—these were all prominent members of the House. It will be seen that the House was a more trying arena for a young member like Garfield than the Senate would have been; for the contests of the former—unsubdued and unmitigated by 'the courtesy of the Senate'—were conducted by as ready and able a corps of debaters as ever sat in that body."

This was surely a formidable array of men, and a man of ordinary powers would have found it prudent to remain silent during the first session, lest he should be overwhelmed by some one of the ready speakers and experienced legislators with whom he was associated. But the canal-boy, who had so swiftly risen from his humble position to the post of college president and major-general, till at the age of thirty-two he sat in the national council the youngest member, was not daunted. His term of service as State Senator was now of use to him, for it had given him a knowledge of parliamentary law, and the practice in speaking which he gained long ago in the boys' debating societies, and extended in college, rendered him easy and master of himself.

Indeed he could not remain silent, for he represented the "boys at the front," and whenever a measure was proposed affecting their interests, he was expected to take part in the debate. It was not long before the House found that its new member was a man of grace and power, with whom it was not always safe to measure weapons. He was inclined to be peaceful, but he was not willing to permit any one to domineer over him, and the same member did not often attempt it a second time.

My young readers are sure to admire pluck, and they will, therefore, read with interest of one such occasion, when Garfield effectually quelled such an attempt. I find it in a chapter of reminiscences contributed to the Boston Journal, by Ben Perley Poore, the well-known correspondent:

"When the Jenckes Bankrupt Bill came before the House, Gen. Garfield objected to it, because in his opinion it did not provide that the estates of rebels in arms should escape the operations of the law. He also showed that money was being raised to secure the enactment of the bill, and Mr. Spalding, of the Cleveland district, was prompted by Mr. Jenckes to 'sit down on him.' But Gen. Garfield was not to be silenced easily and quite a scene ensued. The next day Garfield rose to a personal explanation, and said:

"'I made no personal reference whatever; I assailed no gentleman; I called no man's honor in question. My colleague from the Cleveland district (Mr. Spalding) rose and asked if I had read the bill. I answered him, I believe, in courteous language and manner, that I had read it, and immediately on my statement to that effect he said in his place in the House, and it has gone on the record, that he did not believe I had read it; in other words, that he believed I had lied, in the presence of my peers in this House. I felt, under such circumstances, that it would not be becoming my self-respect, or the respect I owe to the House, to continue a colloquy with any gentleman who had thus impeached my veracity and I said so.

"'It pains me very much that a gentleman of venerable age, who was in full maturity of life when I was a child, and whom I have respected since my childhood, should have taken occasion here in this place to use language so uncalled for, so ungenerous, so unjust to me, and disgraceful to himself. I have borne with the ill-nature and bad blood of that gentleman, as many others in this House have, out of respect for his years; but no importunity of age shall shield him, or any man, from my denunciation, who is so lacking in the proprieties of this place as to be guilty of such parliamentary and personal indecency as the House has witnessed on his part. I had hoped that before this time he would have acknowledged to me the impropriety and unjustifiableness of his conduct and apologized for the insult. But he has not seen fit to take this course. I leave him to his own reflections, and his conduct to the judgment of the House.'"

Those who listened to these spirited rebukes saw that the young member from Ohio would not allow himself to be snubbed or insulted with impunity, and the few who were accustomed to descend to such discourtesy took warning accordingly. They were satisfied that Garfield, to quote a common phrase, would give them as good as they sent, and perhaps a little better. The boy, who at sixteen, when employed on the tow-path, thrashed the bully of thirty-five for insulting him, was not likely in his manhood to submit to the insults of a Congressional bully. He was a man to compel respect, and had that resolute and persistent character which was likely ere long to make him a leader. So Disraeli, coughed down in his first attempt to speak before the English House of Commons, accepted the situation, but recorded the prediction that one day they would hear him. He, too, mounted step by step till he reached the highest position in the English Government outside of royalty. A man who is destined to be great is only strengthened by opposition, and rises in the end victorious over circumstances.

Garfield soon made it manifest that he had come to Washington to work. He was not one to lie back and enjoy in idleness the personal consequence which his position gave him. All his life he had been a worker, and a hard worker, from the time when he cut one hundred cords of wood, at twenty-five cents a cord, all through his experience as a canal-boy, a carpenter, a farm-worker, a janitor, a school teacher, a student, and a military commander, and now that he had taken his place in the grand council of the nation, he was not going to begin a life of self-indulgent idleness.

In consideration of his military record he was, at his entrance into Congress, put upon the Military Committee; but a session or two later, at his own request, he was assigned a place on the Committee of Ways and Means. His reason for this request was, that he might have an opportunity of studying the question of finance, which he had sufficient foresight to perceive would one day be a great question, overshadowing all others. He instantly set himself to a systematic and exhaustive study of this subject, and attained so thorough a knowledge of it that he was universally recognized as a high authority—perhaps the highest in the department. He made speech after speech on the finance question, and was a pronounced advocate of "Honest Money," setting his face like a flint against those who advocated any measures calculated to lower the national credit or tarnish the national reputation for good faith.

"I am aware," said he one day in debate, "that financial measures are dull and uninviting in comparison with those heroic themes which have absorbed the attention of Congress for the last five years. To turn from the consideration of armies and navies, victories and defeats, to the array of figures which exhibits the debt, expenditure, taxation, and industry of the nation requires no little courage and self-denial; but to these questions we must come, and to their solution Congress and all thoughtful citizens must give their best efforts for many years to come."

It was not only a wise but a bold thing to do, for among the members of his own party, in Ohio, financial heresies had crept in, and a party platform was adopted in 1867, looking to the payment of the bonds of the Government in greenbacks. He was advised to say nothing on the subject lest it should cost him the nomination in the election just at hand; but he met the question boldly, and declared that the district could only have his services "on the ground of the honest payment of this debt, and these bonds in coin, according to the letter and spirit of the contract."

Nevertheless he was renominated by acclamation.

Chapter XXVIII—The Man For The Hour.

On the 15th day of April, 1865, the country was thrilled from end to end by the almost incredible report that President Lincoln had been assassinated the evening previous while witnessing a performance at Ford's Theatre, in Washington.

The war was not yet over, but peace seemed close at hand. All were anticipating its return with joy. The immense sacrifices of loyal men seemed about to be rewarded when, like a clap of thunder in a clear sky, came the terrible tidings, which were flashed at once over the telegraphic wires to the remotest parts of the country.

The people at first were shocked and silent. Then a mighty wave of wrath swept over the country—a wrath that demanded victims, and seemed likely in the principal city of the country to precipitate scenes not unlike those witnessed in the "Reign of Terror" in France.

The boys who read this story can not understand the excitement of that day. It was unlike the deep sorrow that came upon us all on the second of July, for Lincoln died a martyr, at a time when men's passions had been stirred by sectional strife, and his murder was felt to be an outgrowth of the passions which it engendered; but Garfield fell, slain by the hand of a worthless wretch, acting upon his own responsibility.

I shall venture, for the information of young readers, to whom it may be new, to quote the graphic description of an eye-witness, contributed to General Brisbin's interesting life of our subject:

"I shall never forget the first time I saw General Garfield. It was the morning after President Lincoln's assassination. The country was excited to its utmost tension.... The newspaper head lines of the transaction were set up in the largest type, and the high crime was on every one's tongue. Fear took possession of men's minds as to the fate of the Government, for in a few hours the news came on that Seward's throat was cut, and that attempts had been made on the lives of others of the Government officers. Posters were stuck up everywhere, in great black letters, calling upon the loyal citizens of New York, Brooklyn, Jersey City, and neighboring places, to meet around the Wall Street Exchange and give expression to their sentiments.

"It was a dark and terrible hour. What might come next no one could tell, and men spoke with bated breath. The wrath of the workingmen was simply uncontrollable, and revolvers and knives were in the hands of thousands of Lincoln's friends, ready, at the first opportunity, to take the law into their own hands, and avenge the death of their martyred President upon any and all who dared to utter a word against him.

"Eleven o'clock A.M. was the hour set for the rendezvous. Fifty thousand people crowded around the Exchange building, cramming and jamming the streets, and wedged in as tight as men could stand together. With a few to whom special favor was extended, I went over from Brooklyn at nine A.M., and even then, with the utmost difficulty, found my way to the reception room for the speakers in the front of the Exchange building, and looking out on the high and massive balcony, whose front was protected by a massive iron railing.

"We sat in solemnity and silence, waiting for General Butler, who, it was announced, had started from Washington, and was either already in the city or expected every moment. Nearly a hundred generals, judges, statesmen, lawyers, editors, clergymen, and others were in that room waiting for Butler's arrival.

"We stepped out to the balcony to watch the fearfully solemn and swaying mass of people. Not a hurrah was heard, but for the most part a dead silence, or a deep, ominous muttering ran like a rising wave up the street toward Broadway, and again down toward the river on the right. At length the batons of the police were seen swinging in the air, far up on the left, parting the crowd, and pressing it back to make way for a carriage that moved slowly, and with difficult jags through the compact multitude, and the cry of 'Butler!' 'Butler!' rang out with tremendous and thrilling effect, and was taken up by the people.

"But not a hurrah! Not one! It was the cry of a great people asking to know how their President died. The blood bounced in our veins, and the tears ran like streams down our faces. How it was done I forget, but Butler was pulled through, and pulled up, and entered the room where