THE RIVER AND HARBOR BILL
I have throughout my whole public political life acted upon
my own judgment. I have done what I thought for the public
interest without much troubling myself about public opinion.
I always took a good deal of pride in a saying of Roger Sherman's.
He was asked if he did not think some vote of his would be
very much disapproved in Connecticut, to which he replied
that he knew but one way to ascertain the public opinion of
Connecticut; that was to ascertain what was right. When he
had found that out, he was quite sure that it would meet the
approval of Connecticut. That in general has been in my judgment
absolutely and literally true of Massachusetts. It has required
no courage for any representative of hers to do what he thought
was right. She is apt to select to speak for her, certainly
those she sends to the United States Senate, in whose choice
the whole Commonwealth has a part, men who are in general
of the same way of thinking, and governed by the same principles
as are the majority of her people. When she has chosen them
she expects them to act according to their best judgement,
and not to be thinking about popularity. She likes independence
better than obsequiousness. The one thing the people of Massachusetts
will not forgive in a public servant is that he should act
against his own honest judgment to please them. I am speaking
of her sober, second thought. Her people, like the rest of
mankind, are liable to waves of emotion and of prejudice.
This is true the world over. It is as true of good men as
of bad men, of educated as of ignorant men, whenever they
are to act in large masses. Alexander Hamilton said that
if every Athenian citizen had been a Socrates, still every
Athenian assembly would have been a mob. So I claim no credit
that I have voted and spoken as I thought, always without
stopping to consider whether public opinion would support
me.
The only serious temptation I have ever had in my public
life came to me in the summer of 1882, when the measure known
as the River and Harbor Bill was pending. The bill provided
for an expenditure of about eighteen million dollars. Of
this a little more than four million was for the execution
of a scheme for the improvement of the Mississippi River and
its tributaries, which had been recommended by President Arthur
in a special message. All the other appropriations put together
were a little less than fourteen million dollars. The bill
passed both Houses. President Arthur vetoed it, alleging
as a reason that the measure was extravagant; that the public
works provided for in it were of local interest, not for the
advantage of international or interstate commerce; and that
it had got through by a system of log-rolling, the friends
of bad schemes in one State joining with the friends of bad
schemes in another, making common cause to support the bill.
He added that in that way, the more objectionable the measure,
the more support it would get. The press of the country,
almost without exception, supported the President. The reasons
which applied to each improvement were not well understood
by the public. So the conductors of the newspapers naturally
supposed the President to be in the right in his facts. The
Democratic newspapers were eager to attack Republican measures.
Where there were factions in the Republican Party, the Republican
papers of one faction were ready to attack the men who belonged
to the other. The independent newspapers welcomed any opportunity
to support their theory that American public life was rotten
and corrupt. So when the question came up whether the bill
should pass notwithstanding the objections of the President,
there was a storm of indignation throughout the country against
the men who supported it.
But the committees who had supported it and who had reported
it, and who knew its merits, and the men who had voted for
it in either House of Congress, could not well stultify themselves
by changing their votes, although some of them did. I was
situated very fortunately in that respect. I had been absent
on a visit to Massachusetts when the bill passed. So I was
not on record for it. I had given it no great attention.
The special duties which had been assigned to me related to
other subjects. So when the measure came up in the Senate
I had only an opinion founded on my general knowledge of the
needs of the country and the public policy, that it was all
right. My reelection was coming on. I was to have a serious
contest, if I were a candidate, with the supporters of General
Butler, then very powerful in the State. He, in fact, was
elected Governor in the election then approaching. My first
thoughts were that I was fortunate to have escaped this rock.
But when the vote came on I said to myself: "This measure
is right. Is my father's son to sneak home to Massachusetts,
having voted against a bill that is clearly righteous and
just, because he is afraid of public sentiment?" Senator McMillan,
the Chairman of the Committee who had charge of the bill,
just before my name was called, asked me how I meant to vote.
I told him I should vote for the bill, because I believed
it to be right, but that it would lose me the support of every
newspaper in Massachusetts that had been friendly to me before.
I voted accordingly. The vote was met by a storm of indignation
from one end of Massachusetts to the other, in which every
Republican newspaper in the State, so far as I know, united.
The Springfield _Republican_ and the Boston _Herald,_ as will
well be believed, were in glory. The conduct of no pick-
pocket or bank robber could have been held up to public indignation
and contempt in severer language than the supporters of that
bill. A classmate of mine, an eminent man of letters, a gentleman
of great personal worth, addressed a young ladies' school,
or some similar body in Western Massachusetts, on the subject
of the decay of public virtue as exemplified by me. He declared
that I had separated myself from the best elements in the
State.
The measure was passed over the President's veto. But it
cost the Republican Party its majority in the House of Representatives.
A large number of the member of the House who had voted for
it lost their seats. If the question of my reelection had
come on within a few weeks thereafter, I doubt whether I should
have got forty votes in the whole Legislature. If I had flinched
or apologized, I should have been destroyed. But I stood
to my guns. I wrote a letter to the people of Massachusetts
in which I took up case by case each provision of the bill,
and showed how important it was for the interest of commerce
between the States, or with foreign countries, and how well
it justified the moderate expenditure. I pointed out that
the bill had been, in proportion to the resources of the Government,
less in amount than those John Quincy Adams and Daniel Webster
had formerly advocated; that Mr. Webster, with the single
exception of his service for preserving the Union, prided
himself on his support of this policy of public improvement
more than on anything else in his life, and had made more
speeches on that subject than on any other. Mr. Adams claimed
to be the author of the policy of internal improvements. So
that it was a Massachusetts policy, and a Massachusetts doctrine.
I asked the people of Massachusetts to consider whether they
could reasonably expect to get their living by manufacture,
to which nearly the whole State was devoted, bringing their
raw material and their fuel and their iron and coal and cotton
and wool from across the continent, and then carrying the
manufactured article back again to be sold at the very places
where the material came from, in competition with States like
Pennsylvania and New York and Ohio and Indiana, unless the
cost of transportation was, so far as possible, annihilated.
I concluded by saying that I knew they would not come to my
way of thinking that afternoon or that week, but that they
were sure to come to it in the end. With very few exceptions
the letter did not change the course of the newspapers, or
of the leading men who had zealously committed themselves
to another doctrine. But it convinced the people, and I believe
it had a very great effect throughout the country, and was
the means of saving the policy of internal improvements from
destruction.
Mr. Clapp, of the Boston _Journal,_ with a manliness that
did him infinite credit, declared publicly in its columns that
he had been all wrong, and that I was right. The Worcester
_Spy,_ edited by my dear friend and near kinsman, Evarts
Greene, had with the rest of the press attacked my vote.
Mr. Greene himself was absent at the time, so the paper was
then in charge of an associate. When Mr. Greene returned
I asked him to spend an afternoon at my house. That was
before my letter came out. I had sent to Washington for
all the engineers' reports and other documents showing the
necessity of every item of the bill. Mr. Greene made a careful
study of the bill and agreed with me.
The Boston _Herald_ also obtained all the material from Washington
and sent it to a very able gentleman who, though not taking
any part in the ordinary conduct of the _Herald,_ was called
upon for services requiring special ability and investigation.
They asked him to answer my letter. He spent five days in
studying the matter, and then wrote to the managing editor
of the paper than Mr. Hoar was entirely right, and that he
should not write the article desired. The _Herald,_ however,
did not abandon its position. It kept up the war. But I
ought to say it so far modified its action that it supported
me for reelection the next winter.
The Springfield _Republican_ saw and seized its opportunity.
It attacked the River and Harbor Bill savagely. It said:
"Mr. Hoar is a candidate for reelection and has dealt himself
a very severe blow. The Commonwealth was prepared to honor
Messrs. Crapo and Hoar anew. To-day it pauses, frowns and
reflects." So it kept up the attack. It had previously advocated
the selection of Mr. Crapo as candidate for Governor. It
bitterly denounced me. Mr. Crapo had himself voted for the
River and Harbor Bill. It could not consistently maintain
its bitter opposition to me, because of my vote, while supporting
Mr. Crapo. So it declared it could no longer support him.
When the State Convention came the feeling was still strong,
though somewhat abated. I had been asked by the Committee,
a good while before, to preside at the Convention. This I
did. I was received rather coldly when I went forward. But
I made no apologies. I began my speech by saying: "It gives
me great pleasure to meet this assembly of the representatives
of the Republicans of Massachusetts. I have seen these faces
before. They are faces into which I am neither afraid nor
ashamed to look." The assembly hesitated a little between
indignation at the tone of defiance, and approval of a man's
standing by his convictions. The latter feeling predominated,
and they broke out into applause. But the resolutions which
the Committee reported contained a mild but veiled reproof
of my action.
Mr. Crapo was defeated in the Convention. I have no doubt
he would have been nominated for Governor, but for his vote
for the River and Harbor Bill. His successful competitor,
Mr. Bishop, was a gentleman of great personal worth, highly
esteemed throughout the Commonwealth, and of experience in
State administration. But it was thought that his nomination
had been secured by very active political management, concerted
at the State House, and that the nomination did not fairly
represent the desire of the people of the Commonwealth. Whatever
truth there may have been in this, I am very sure that Mr.
Crapo's defeat could not have been compassed but for his vote
for the River and Harbor Bill. The result of the above feeling,
however, was that the Republican campaign was conducted without
much heart, and General Butler was elected Governor.
When the election of Senator came in the following winter,
I was opposed by what remained of the feeling against the
River and Harbor Bill. My principal Republican competitors
were Mr. Crapo, whose friends rightly thought he had been
treated with great injustice; and Governor Long, a great public
favorite, who had just ended a brilliant and most acceptable
term of service as Governor. Governor Long had presided at
a public meeting where President Arthur had been received
during the summer, and had assured him that his action had
the hearty approval and support of the people of the Commonwealth.
I had, of course, no right to find the least fault with the
supporters of Governor Long. He would have been in every
way a most acceptable and useful Senator. I ought to say
that, as I understood it, he hardly assumed the attitude of
a candidate for the place, and declared in a public letter
or speech that he thought I ought to be reelected. So, after
a somewhat earnest struggle I was again chosen.
One curious incident happened during the election. The morning
after the result was declared, a story appeared in the papers
that Mr. Crapo's supporters had been led to come over to me
by the statement that one of them had received a telegram
from him withdrawing his name, and advising that course. The
correspondent of one of the papers called upon Mr. Crapo,
who answered him that he had never sent any such telegram
to Boston. So it was alleged that somebody who favored me
had brought about the result by this false statement. A newspaper
correspondent called on me in Washington, and asked me about
the story. I told him that I had not heard of the story, but
that if it turned out to be true I, of course, would instantly
decline the office. A full investigation was made of the
matter, and it turned out that Mr. Crapo had sent such a
telegram to a member of the Legislature in New Bedford, who
had taken it to Boston and made it known.
The next winter, at my suggestion, a resolution was passed
calling upon the Secretary of War, Mr. Lincoln, to specify
which items in the River and Harbor Bill of the previous winter
were not, in his opinion, advisable, or did not tend to promote
international or interstate commerce. He replied specifying
a very few items only, amounting altogether to a very few
thousand dollars. This reply was made by the Secretary of
War, as he told me in private afterward, by the express direction
of the President, and after consultation with him. That ended
the foolish outcry against the great policy of internal improvement,
which has helped to make possible the marvels of our domestic
commerce, one of the most wonderful creations of human history.
The statistics of its vast extent, greater now, I think, than
all the foreign commerce of the world put together, from the
nature of the case, never can be precisely ascertained. It
is not only wonderful in its amount, but in its origin, its
resources, and in its whole conduct. All its instrumentalities
are American. It is American at both ends, and throughout
all the way. This last year a bill providing for an expenditure
of sixty millions, nearly four times the amount of that which
President Arthur, and the newspapers that supported him, thought
so extravagant, passed Congress without a murmur of objection,
and if I mistake not, without a dissenting vote.
I should like to put on record one instance of the generosity
and affection of Mr. Dawes. He had not voted when his name
was called, expecting to vote at the end of the roll-call.
He meant to vote against the passage of the bill over the
veto. But when he heard my vote for it, he saw that I was
bringing down on my head a storm of popular indignation,
and made up his mind that he would not throw the weight of
his example on the side against me. So, contrary to his opinion
of the merits of the bill, he came to my side, and voted with
me.
I suppose a good many moralists will think that it is a very
wicked thing indeed for a man to vote against his convictions
on a grave public question, from a motive like this, of personal
friendship. But I think on the whole I like better the people,
who will love Mr. Dawes for such an act, than those who will
condemn him. I would not, probably, put what I am about to
say in an address to a Sunday-school, or into a sermon to
the inmates of a jail or house of correction. I cannot, perhaps,
defend it by reason. But somehow or other, I am strongly
tempted to say there are occasions in life where the meanest
thing a man can do is to do perfectly right. But I do not
say it. It would be better to say that there are occasions
when the instinct is a better guide than the reason. At any
rate, I do not believe the recording angel made any trouble
for Mr. Dawes for that vote.