Wheeling Register

HORATIO SEYMOUR.

THE NOBLEST DEMOCRATIC LEADER

OF THEM ALL.

A Sketch of the Life and Political Career of New York's Most Distinguished Statesman—His Services to Country and Party—The Man We Must Have in 1880.

Washington Post.

In the first decade of the century the little village of Pompey stood on the verge of a swamp that is now the location of a flourishing city, Syracuse. It was veritably an oasis in the wilderness, for around it stretched vast and almost trackless forests, then peopled by their Aboriginal owners, and as yet the lurking place of savage beasts, the bear, wolf and panthers. A company of hardy Yankees, reaching out to establish homes in what was then the great West, and penetrated thither from New England, and entered upon the labor of clearing the lands.

One of these was Henry Seymour, who afterwards held high position in the magnificent Commonwealth he assisted to found. In 1810 was born his son, Horatio Seymour, who, although early taught the lesson that no man in this country comes into the world better than another, can point with pride to his lineage. His father, one of the pioneers who assisted to lay the foundation-stone of a great State; his mother the daughter of a gallant soldier of the Revolution. He was weak and sickly until he had almost reached manhood, and his early education was conducted by his mother. He still reverently remembers her watchful care and patience, and to it attributes much of the prosperity and happiness that has attended him through life.

When the boy was about eight years old his father removed his family to Utica, and Horatio was sent away to school, first at the Oxford academy, and then to the institution now known as Hobart college. In the hope that the physical exercise of drill would correct his bodily weakness, young Seymour was afterwards sent to a military school at Middletown, Conn., represented to have been a famous institution in that day, and one that attracted cadets, principally the sons of wealthy and distinguished men, from all parts of the country. Here his health rapidly improved, and he became noted as a hard student. It was fortunate that he was sent to this academy, on other grounds, for there he made the acquaintance and acquired the friendship of lads, some of whom, like himself, afterwards became prominent in the history of the nation.

In 1826 the corps of cadets were taken to Washington on a pleasure excursion, and there young Seymour first caught a glimpse of public life. Washington, in those days, did not give much indication of becoming the beautiful city it now is. It was a muddy, unpaved, unsightly settlement of 7,000 or 8,000 inhabitants. The White House was in course of construction, and the East room was used to hang up the week's washing in. Pennsylvania avenue was divided into two carriage ways by rows of poplars. Still the place possessed a charm and interest of novelty for these young men, and a great deal of attention was lavished upon them. They were received by President John Quincy Adams and Cabinet, visited the Capitol and the various departments of the Government. Mr. Seymour's uncle, for whom he was named, was then a Senator from Vermont, and was particularly kind to his nephew, introducing him to many of the great men of the day. He still delights in recalling memories of the visit, and in rehearsing the impressions he then formed of the political Titans of the Republic's earlier and purer days, of Clay, "tall in stature, graceful in action, winning in speech;" of the brilliant and fascinating Calhoun; of Webster, whom he remembers chiefly as being the possessor of "a voice full of magnetism, such a voice as is heard but once in a lifetime;" of Randolph, pale, delicate, with the fire of genius blazing from his clear eyes, eccentric in manner and costume; of John Quincy Adams, cold and statuesque, apparently overburdened by the weight of dignity he felt called upon to sustain. He also went to Mt. Vernon, and was present when Washington's remains were removed to their present resting place, and his hands were allowed to rest upon the coffin containing the dust of the father of his country. He looks back upon that occurrence as one of the greatest events of his life.

Mr. Seymour's entry into political life may be said to have been made when he accompanied his father to Baltimore to attend the convention that re-nominated Jackson for the Presidency, the elder Seymour being a delegate. He had previously read law and been admitted to the bar, and in those days it was almost a necessity that a lawyer should be a politician. He seems to have early become enamored of public life. He was placed above the necessity of practising his profession, as in addition to his own ample fortune, his wife, Miss Bleecker, a lady of many accomplishments who still lives to grace his home, was also richly endowed with this world's goods. The position of his father and his distinguished uncle rendered it comparatively easy to gratify his desire in that respect, and he was made a member of the staff of Gov. Wm. L. Marcy, becoming his confidential friend. While holding this position he became familiar with legislative duties, and in 1842 was elected to the assembly by the Democrats of Oneida. He at once, by reason of his ability and talents, took a commanding position in a body memorable for the good quality of the timber of which it was composed. He was recognized, young as he was, to be the peer of such men as Michael Hoffman, John A. Dix, Church, Davis, Stetson and Hulburd. Judge Hammond, in his "Life and Times of Silas Wright," speaks of the young statesman as the possessor of a shrewd, discerning mind, one fluent and frequently eloquent in debate, enlarged in his views, and with intricate details of facts almost at his fingers' ends. Mr. Seymour continued to be an efficient and leading member of this body, after a short interim in which he served as mayor of Utica, until 1845. At that time the discord in the Democratic party in New York was at its height, and Mr. Seymour as a prominent member of the "Hunker" faction, became involved in it. He was nominated by that party for speaker of the assembly as against the "barnburners'" candidate, Col. Crain. The struggle was intensely bitter and exciting, so much so that Mr. Seymour, recognizing the deplorable effects that would necessarily ensue to the party, made several efforts to withdraw his name. He was elected, however, and became a model presiding officer, fair and courteous to all sides; but the results he feared did not come to pass. The "barnburners-Hunker troubles culminated in the Cass-Van Buren feud, and contributed to the election of Taylor and the crushing defeat of the Democratic party in 1848.

In 1850 Mr. Seymour was called upon to make the campaign for the disorganized and hopeless Democracy as their candidate for Governor. With that notable unselfishness and repression of private interests for the good of the party that characterized his action on a later and more important occasion, he accepted, and went into the fight with his accustomed energy. By the prestige of his name and ability he greatly increased the Democratic vote, but was defeated by a beggarly majority of 262. This struggle revealed, however, his remarkable strength in the State and gained him many friends. Two years later he was elected by a majority of several thousand. He was compelled to grapple with the most perplexing questions. The Maine law agitation was going on, and, in response to what appeared to be the popular demand, the legislature passed a stringent prohibitory liquor law. Gov. Seymour regarded the bill unconstitutional and arbitrary, and always true to his convictions of right, without regard to personal consequences, he vetoed it, accompanying its return with an able and statesmanlike message. A storm of indignation broke upon him; pulpit, press, platform denounced him as an apostle of drunkenness, and a man of infidel tendencies. This veto was the principal cause of his defeat in 1854, which result as he probably foresaw when he acted in accordance with his convictions. After his retirement he still continued to take an active interest in politics, and was universally recognized as the leader of the party in that State. In the National and State conventions his voice was always for harmony, and the accommodation of the opposing interests of different wings of the party that then seemed likely to seriously weaken its usefulness and influence. After the election of Buchanan, to secure which result he labored like a galley slave, he was offered an important foreign mission, but declined. A Democrat of Democrats, an advocate of the rights of States, a believer that the Republican leaders, not the slave-holding interests, were driving the country into the horrors of fratricidal war, yet when the storm actually broke upon the country, he ceased to be partisan and became a patriot. His voice, means and influence were directed toward the preservation of the Union. In 1862, recognizing the pitiable condition of the party, the Democrats of New York again turned to him as their standard-bearer. He made a most exhaustive canvass, appealed directly and personally to the people, struggled against what seemed to be overwhelming odds, and was elected by a majority of 10,000. The whole influence of the Administration had been thrown against him, the prominent men of the party had deserted him, but with that unconquerable pluck and energy which have ever been his leading characteristics, backed by the respect and admiration of the people, he was successful. His administration of State affairs during that trying period was marked by the coolness, wisdom and patriotism that appear to be inherent elements of the man's character, giving the General Government a cordial and earnest support in its efforts to suppress the rebellion, so much so as to win repeatedly the thanks of President Lincoln and Secretary Stanton. The draft riots of 1863 occurred during his term of office, and, although the occasion was one to try the stoutest heart, he never wavered from what he considered the line of duty. He has been most vigorously denounced for holding a "palaver with the ruffians," but to attacks of that character he has never deigned to reply, simply pointing to the fact that one of the most furious and threatening mob outbreaks in American history was effectually stamped down, under his own direction, in less than forty-eight hours.

Sorely against his will, against the dictates of his better judgment, in the face of his most positive and repeated declinations of the honor, he accepted the Democratic Presidential nomination in 1868. He was chairman of the convention, and, after Gen. McCook, of Ohio, in a ringing speech highly eulogistic of Gov. Seymour, announced him as the choice of that State, and cast its twenty-one votes for him, vainly endeavored to stay the tide, but it was useless. His friends forcibly removed him from the chair, and, amid a scene of the wildest excitement, the changing of votes, cheers and demonstrations of unbounded enthusiasm, he was named as the candidate of the Democratic party. To refuse the almost unanimous voice of that party, through its chosen representatives, would then have seemed selfish and churlish and those two qualities are as foreign to the man as dishonesty or demagogism would be. He accepted, realizing almost sadly the hopelessness of the struggle, and the responsibility he was assuming. After the Pennsylvania election, he saw his fears confirmed, and devoted himself to the task of saving New York to the Democracy. To his strenuous efforts in that direction, and the fact that he personally entered into the canvass, making a series of most remarkable speeches, may be attributed that important result. The election of Grant was inevitable. It might as well have been attempted to stay a mountain torrent with a lash as to defeat him. Gov. Seymour had clearly seen this from the first, and had deliberately sacrificed himself to render the success of the party in other conflicts possible. He accepted it good humoredly, and without the slightest shade of bitterness. When Gen. Grant visited Utica after his election, he was foremost in extending to him a proper reception, and humorously remarked to his successful rival that he (Seymour) was the better soldier of the two, as he could not run so well as Grant. Since then his life has been one of partial retirement. He is greatly interested in agricultural matters, and has delivered a series of addresses upon such subjects. Although viewing the course of political events with much solicitude, and always exercising the duties of a citizen, he has persistently considered himself as retired from the political arena, and has repeatedly refused high office.

Such, briefly sketched, are the principal events of the life of him whom the Post presents the Democrats of America as the most fitting leader they can select to lead them in the great contest of next year. It will be wise for the party to act discreetly in the skirmishing preliminary to that grand struggle. Slowly has it climbed upwards into power, until the legislative branch of the Government is in its possession. A false move at this critical juncture may ruin all that has been so painfully gained. It would be the part of wisdom to select one whose character and commanding abilities would secure him the respect even of enemies, and, coupled with undoubted and uncompromising Democracy, would rally the members of his party enthusiastically to his support. Horatio Seymour possesses in an eminent degree these qualities. There is not a blot or smirch upon the fair record of his private or political life. His integrity and patriotism are beyond question. There is not within the ranks of the Democracy to-day a purer or nobler statesman.