Hidden Treasures - Samuel J. Tilden
Why Some Succeed While Others Fail
Samuel J. Tilden.
In 1814 there was born at New Lebanon, New York, an infant son to Elam Tilden, a prosperous farmer. His father, being a personal and political friend of Mr. Van Buren and other members of the celebrated 'Albany Regency'; his home was made a kind of headquarters for various members of that council to whose conversation the precocious child enjoyed to listen.
Mr. Tilden declared of himself that he had no youth. As a boy he was diffident, and was studying and investigating when others were playing and enjoying the pleasures of society. From the beginning he was a calculator. Martin Van Buren, to whom he was greatly attached, often spoke of him as 'The sagacious Sammy.'
Thrown into contact with such men at his parent's home, he early evinced a fondness for politics which first revealed itself in an essay on 'The Political Aspect,' displaying ability far beyond one of his years, which was printed in the Albany Argus, and which was attributed to Mr. Van Buren, at that time the leader of the Albany Regency.
At twenty he entered Yale College, but ill-health compelled his return home. He, however, afterward resumed his studies at the University of New York; graduating from that institution he began the practice of law. At the bar he became known as a sound, but not especially brilliant pleader. In 1866 he was chosen Chairman of the State Committee of his party. In 1870-1, he was largely instrumental in unearthing frauds perpetrated in[395] the city of New York, and in 1874 was elected the 'reform governor' of the great Empire State. Although in political discord with Mr. Tilden, it is in no disparaging sense that we speak of him. It is in the sense of a historian bound and obligated to truth that we view him. We regard him as the mysterious statesman of american history.
His personal character was, to a great extent, shrouded from the public in a veil of mystery, which had both its voluntary and involuntary elements. If Mr. Tilden had desired to be otherwise than mysterious it would have required much more self-control and ingenuity than would have been necessary to thicken the veil to impenetrability.
His habit was to weigh both sides of every question, and therein he resembled, though in other particulars entirely different, the late Henry J. Raymond, the founder of the New York Times; and the effect was to some extent similar, for each of these men saw both sides of every question so fully as to be under the power of both sides, which sometimes produced an equilibrium, causing hesitation when the crisis required action.
Mr. Tilden had intellectual qualities of the very highest order. He could sit down before a mass of incoherent statements, and figures that would drive most men insane, and elucidate them by the most painstaking investigation, and feel a pleasure in the work. Indeed, an intimate friend of his assures us that his eye would gleam with delight when a task was set before him from which most men would pay large sums to be relieved: Hence, his abilities were of a kind that made him a most dangerous opponent.
Some persons supposed that Mr. Tilden was a poor[396] speaker because, when he was brought before the people as a candidate for President of the United States, he was physically unable to speak with much force. But twenty years ago, for clearness of statement, and for an easy and straightforward method of speech he had few superiors. His language was excellent, his manner that of a man who had something to say and was intent upon saying it. He was at no time a tricky orator, nor did he aim at rousing the feelings, but in the clearest possible manner he would make his points and no amount of prejudice was sufficient to resist his conclusions. He was a great reader, and reflected on all that he read.
No more extraordinary episode ever occurred than his break with William M. Tweed, and his devoting himself to the overthrow of that gigantic ring. It is not our purpose to treat the whole subject; yet, the manner of the break was so tragic that it should be detailed. William M. Tweed had gone on buying men and legislatures, and enriching himself until he had reached the state of mind in which he said to the public, "What are you going to do about it?" He had gone further. He had applied it to the leading men of the Democratic party. The time came when he sat in his gorgeously furnished apartment in Albany, as Chairman of a certain committee of the Senate. Samuel J. Tilden appeared before the committee to represent a certain interest. On that occasion Mr. Tweed, who was either intoxicated with liquor, or intoxicated with pride and vanity, grossly insulted Mr. Tilden, spoke to him in the most disrespectful manner, and closed by saying: "You are an old humbug; you always were a humbug, and we don't want to hear anything from you!"[397]
Mr. Tilden turned pale, and then red, and finally livid. A spectator, a man second to none in New York State for position, informed the writer that as he gazed upon Mr. Tilden he was terrified. Not a word did he utter; he folded up his books and papers and departed. As he went the spectator said to himself, "This man means murder; there will never be any accommodation of this difficulty." Back to the City of New York went Mr. Tilden. He sat down with the patience and with the keen scent of a sleuth-hound, and unravelled all the mystery of the iniquity which had cursed the City of New York, and of which William M. Tweed was the master-spirit.
Judge Noah Davis said to an acquaintance that 'Mr. Tilden's preparation of the cases against Tweed and his confederates was one of the most remarkable things of which he had ever seen or heard. He said that Tilden would take the mutilated stubbs of check-books, and construct a story from them. He had restored the case of the city against the purloiners as an anatomist, by the means of two or three bones, would draw you a picture of the animal which had inhabited them in the palæontological age.' It will be remembered that Judge Noah Davis tried the cases and sentenced Tweed.
It is not necessary for us to conjecture whether Mr. Tilden would have appeared as the reformer if he had not been grossly insulted by Tweed. That he had not so appeared until the occasion referred to, and that immediately afterward he began the investigation and movements which ended in the total overthrow of the ring and its leader, are beyond question. There came a time when Tweed, trembling in his very soul, sent a communication to Mr. Tilden offering anything if he would[398] relax, but no bronze statue was ever more silent and immovable than Samuel J. Tilden at that time. It is remarkable that a man so silent and mysterious, not to say repellent, in his intercourse with his fellow-men could exert such a mighty influence as he unquestionably did. He did it by controlling master-minds, and by an apprehension rarely or never surpassed of the details to be wrought out by other men.
Mr. Tilden was capable of covering his face with a mask, which none could penetrate. The following scene occurred upon a train on the Hudson River road. Mr. Tilden was engaged in a most animated conversation with a leading member of the Republican party with whom he entertained personal confidential relations. The conversation was one that brought all Mr. Tilden's learning and logical forces into play. It was semi-literary, and not more political than was sufficient to give piquancy to the interview. A committee of the lower class of ward politicians approaching, Mr. Tilden turned to receive him, and in the most expressionless manner held out his hand. His eye lost every particle of lustre and seemed to sink back and down. The chairman of the committee stated the point he had in view. Mr. Tilden asked him to restate it once or twice; made curious and inconsequential remarks, appeared like a man just going to sleep, and finally said: "I will see you on the subject on a future occasion." The committee withdrew. In one moment he resumed the conversation with the brilliancy and vivacity of a boy. Subsequently the chairman of the committee said to the leading Republican, whom he also knew: "Did you ever see the old man so nearly gone as he was to-day? Does he often get so? Had he been taking a drop too much?"[399]
He was at no time in his career embarrassed in his intellectual operations by his emotional nature; he was a man of immense brain-power, and his intellect was trained up to the last possibility; every faculty was under his control; until his health failed he knew no such other source of joy as WORK.
Craft had a very important place in his composition, but it was not the craft of the fox; it was a species of craft which at its worst was above mere pettifogging, and at its best was unquestionably a high type of diplomacy. Those mistake who considered him only as a cunning man. A person opposed to him in politics, but who made a study of his career, observed that in power of intellect he had no superior at the bar of New York, nor among the statesmen of the whole country. The supreme crisis of his life was when he believed himself elected President of the United States. The political aspect we will not revive, except to say that Mr. Tilden consented to the peculiar method of determining the case. The departure of David Davis from the supreme bench in all human probability determined the result.
It is known that Abram S. Hewitt, David Dudley Field, and eminent Democratic leaders, Hewitt being chairman of the National Democratic committee at the time, did all in their power to induce Mr. Tilden to issue a letter to the American people saying that he believed himself to be the President elect, and that on the fourth day of March 1877, he would come to Washington to be inaugurated. Had that been done God alone can tell what would have been the result. In all probability a coup d'etat on one side or the other, followed by civil war or practical change in the character of the relations of the people to the Federal Government. At that moment[400] Mr. Tilden's habit of balancing caused him to pursue the course that he did. It is reported that Mr. Tilden's letter explaining to Mr. Hewitt the reason why he would not do so is still in existence. Of this we know nothing; but that he had reasons and assigned them is certain. Why he consented to the method of arbitration is one of the mysteries of his career. Taking all the possibilities into account, the fact that the issue passed without civil war is an occasion of devout thankfulness to Almighty God. But the method of determining the question is one which the good sense of the American people will never repeat.
Mr. Tilden must have had considerable humor in his composition. Some years ago a Methodist preacher came to the city of New York to raise money for a certain church in Pennsylvania which had been grievously embarrassed. He stayed at the house of one of the ministers in Brooklyn. One evening he said to his host: "I am going to call on Samuel J. Tilden and see if I can't get something out of him for our church. He has a 'barrel,' and I understand it is pretty full." The next morning he went, and on returning said to his host: "Well, I called on Mr. Tilden, and I said: 'Mr. Tilden, I am from——, such a place, in Pennsylvania. My name is——. I am pastor of a church there. We have met with great misfortunes, and are likely to lose our church. There are more than sixty members of my church that voted for you for President, and they are ready to vote for you again, and they wanted me to call on you and tell you of their misfortune, and ask you to give them a little help.'"
"Well, what did Mr. Tilden say?" "He looked up and said he was busy, but told me to come the next morning at nine o'clock." He went, and on his return[401] reported, when the question: "What did Mr. Tilden say"? was asked. "He said to me, 'Your name is——? You are from——, in Pennsylvania? You said that you had more than sixty members who voted for me for President, and who are ready to do it again"? "Yes." "And they wanted you to tell me of their misfortune"? "Yes." Then pulling out of his pocket-book he counted what money he had, which amounted to $15, and handed me $14, and said: "You tell them that Samuel J. Tilden gave you all the money he had except one dollar, which he kept for himself." In all probability he was satirizing an appeal under those circumstances.
For his service in breaking up the Tweed ring, and for his career as Governor of the State of New York, apart from purely party aspects, he is entitled to the thanks of the people. His own party will say to the end of time that he was elected president of the United States, and defrauded out of the office. But neither they nor anyone else can say, after the plan was agreed upon and adopted for determining the result, that the person who did occupy the chair did not have a legal right there, and was not president after the acceptance by the House of Representatives of the conclusion.
Mr. Tilden will never be considered inferior in intellect and learning to the many great men of whom New York can proudly boast. He will ever be ranked with Daniel Tompkins, George Clinton, William L. Marcy, Silas Wright, William H. Seward, John A. Dix and many others, and it is not strange that it was with a feeling of deep and genuine regret that on the 4th of August, 1886, the people were told of his sudden death at 'Greystone.'[402]
