"I cannot reconcile it with propriety to make the acknowledgment

or denial you desire. I will add that I deem it inadmissable on

principle to consent to be interrogated as to the justness of

the inferences which may be drawn from others, from whatever I may

have said of a political opponent in the course of fifteen

years' competition. I stand ready to avow, or disavow promptly

and explicitly, any precise or definite opinion which I may be

charged with having declared of any gentleman. More than this

cannot be fitly expected from me; and especially it cannot be

reasonably expected that I shall enter into an explanation upon

a basis so vague as that which you have adopted. I trust on

more reflection, you will see the matter in the same light with

me. If not, I can only regret the circumstance, and must abide

the consequences."

The immediate response of Burr to the above, after repeating his

former demand, contained the following:

"Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from the necessity

of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor and the rules of decorum.

I neither claim such privilege, nor indulge it in others."

Hamilton's reply being unsatisfactory, the formal challenge of Burr

was soon thereafter handed to him by W. P. Van Ness. The last

named was the second of Burr, and Nathaniel Pendleton was the friend

of Hamilton.

Some days elapsed after the formal acceptance of the challenge

before the fatal meeting. That Hamilton was anxious to avoid

the conflict, clearly appears from a perusal of the many publications

that immediately followed. A paper he prepared explanatory in

character, the second of Burr declined to receive, on the ground

that he considered the correspondence closed by the acceptance

of the challenge.

It touches our sympathies deeply even after the lapse of a century

to read the letter written by Hamilton to his wife to be delivered

in the event of his death, in which he states that he has endeavored

by all honorable means to avoid the duel which probably he would

not survive. He begs her forgiveness for the pain his death would

cause her, and entreats her to bear her sorrows as one who has

placed a firm reliance on a kind Providence.

A few days before his death, he and Burr were guests at a dimmer

given by the Cincinnati Society, of which both were members.

Few persons were aware of what was pending, but it was observed

that Hamilton "entered with glee into all the gayety of a convivial

party, and even sang an old military song." Burr, upon the contrary,

was "silent, gloomy, and remained apart."

In his will, written July 9, Hamilton expressed deep regret that

his death will prevent the full payment of his debts. He expresses

the hope that his children will, in time, make up to his creditors

all that may be due them. After tenderly committing to his children

the care of their mother, he says, "in all situations you are

charged to bear in mind, that she has been to you the most devoted

and best of mothers."

The last paper that came from his pen was evidently intended as

his vindication to posterity, his appeal to time. In this he says:

"I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview, for the most

cogent reasons. My religious and moral principles are strongly

opposed to duelling, and it would give me pain to be obliged to

shed the blood of a fellow-creature in a private combat forbidden by

the laws. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my

life is of the utmost importance to them. I am conscious of no

ill-will to Colonel Burr distinct from political opposition, which

I trust has proceeded from pure and upright motives. Lastly, I

shall hazard much and shall possibly gain nothing by the issue

of the interview. But it was impossible for me to avoid it."

He candidly admits that his criticisms of Colonel Burr have been

severe. He says:

"And on different occasions, I--in common with many others--have

made very unfavorable criticisms of the private character of

this gentleman. It is not my design to fix any odium on the conduct

of Colonel Burr in this case. He may have supposed himself under the

necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his

proceeding have been such as to satisfy his own conscience. I

trust, at the same time, that the world will do me the justice

to believe that I have not censured him on light grounds, nor from

unworthy inducements."

How strangely in the light of history sounds the following: "It

is my ardent wish that he, by his future conduct, may show himself

worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament and

blessing to the country."

That some lingering apprehension existed in the mind of General

Hamilton that his criticisms of Colonel Burr might not have been

altogether generous, appears from the following:

"As well because it is possible that I may have injured Colonel

Burr, however convinced myself that my opinions and declarations

have been well-founded, as from my general principles and temper

in relation to similar affairs, I have resolved, if our interview is

conducted in the usual manner, and it please God to give me the

opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire; and I have

thought even of reserving my second fire, and thus giving to Colonel

Burr a double opportunity to pause and to reflect."

And then, before laying down his pen for the last time, he struck the

keynote to the conduct of many brave men who, like himself,

reluctantly accepted a call to "the field of honor." These are

his closing words:

"To those who with me, abhorring the practice of duelling, may

think that I ought under no account to have added to the number of

bad examples, I answer, that my relative situation as well in public

as in private enforcing all the considerations which constitute

what men of the world denominate honor imposed on me a peculiar

necessity not to decline the call. The ability to be in future

useful, whether in arresting mischief or effecting good in this

crisis of our public affairs which seemed likely to happen,

would probably be inseparable from a conformity with public prejudice

in this particular."

At seven o'clock in the morning of July 11, 1804, at Weehawken,

New Jersey, the fatal meeting took place. After the usual

formal salutation, the parties were placed in position by their

seconds, ten paces apart, the pistols placed in their hands, and

the word being given both fired. General Hamilton instantly fell.

The statement subsequently given out by the seconds is as follows:

"Colonel Burr then advanced toward General Hamilton with a manner and

gesture that appeared to be expressive of regret, but without

speaking turned about and withdrew, being urged from the field

by his friends. No further communication took place between the

principals, and the barge that carried Colonel Burr immediately

returned to the city. We conceive it proper to add that the conduct

of the parties in this interview was perfectly proper as suited

the occasion."

The surgeon in attendance states that after Hamilton was borne

to the barge he observed, "Pendleton knows that I did not intend

to fire at him." As they approached the shore he said, "Let

Mrs. Hamilton be immediately sent for; let the event be gradually broken

to her, but give her hopes." His physician adds:

"During the night his mind retained its usual strength and composure.

The great source of his anxiety seemed to be in his sympathy with his

half-distracted wife and children. 'My beloved wife and children'

was his often used expression, but his fortitude triumphed over

his situation, dreadful as it was. Once, indeed, at the sight

of his children, seven in number, brought to his bedside together,

his utterance forsook him. To his wife he said in a firm voice

but with a pathetic and impressive manner, 'Remember, my Eliza,

that you are a Christian.' His words and the tone in which they

were uttered, will never be effaced from my memory."

After indescribable agony, death came at two o'clock of the day

succeeding the duel. Thus, at the age of forty-seven, perished

Alexander Hamilton, a great man in any country or time. Cities

and counties bear his name in almost every American State. The

story of his wondrous life and tragic death will never lose its

pathetic interest. His unswerving devotion to the country of

his adoption, his untiring efforts in the establishment of the

national Government, and his friendship for Washington, which knew

no abatement, have given Hamilton honored and enduring place in

American history.

As to Burr, the proverb found instant verification that "in duels the

victor is always the victim." Had he, instead of Hamilton, fallen

on that ill-fated July morning, how changed their possible places in

history. A halo has gathered about the name of Hamilton. Monuments

have been erected to his memory, his statue has been given high

place in the Capitol. The hour of his fall was that of his

exaltation.

The self-same hour witnessed the ruin of his antagonist. From the

fatal field, unharmed in body, he turned away, henceforth to the

followed by the execrations of his countrymen. Past services were

forgotten, brilliant talents availed nothing. His desperate attempt

to found a rival government by the partial dismemberment of the

one he had helped to establish was thwarted, and after years of

poverty and misfortune abroad, he returned to die in neglect and

obscurity in his own country. As was truly said: "He was the last

of his race; there was no kindred hand to smooth his couch, or wipe

the death-damp from his brow. No banners drooped over his bier;

no melancholy music floated upon the reluctant air."

The Hon. Hamilton Spencer, one of the ablest of lawyers, gave me

an interesting account of an interview he had with Colonel Burr in

Albany not long before his death. Notwithstanding his advanced

age, broken health, and ruined fortunes, he deeply impressed Mr.

Spencer as a gentleman of most courteous manners, dignified bearing,

and commanding presence such as he had rarely seen.

The one object of his love was his daughter, the beautiful Theodosia.

Her devotion to her father increased with his accumulating misfortunes.

The ship in which she sailed from her home in Charleston, South

Carolina, to meet him in New York, never reached its destination.

In all history, there are few pictures more pathetic than that

of the gray-haired, friendless man, with faded cloak drawn closely

about him, day after day wandering alone by the seaside, anxiously

awaiting the coming of the one being who loved him, the idolized

daughter whose requiem was even then being chanted by the waves.

One of the men I occasionally met in Washington was Joseph C.

McKibben, a former representative in Congress from the Pacific

coast. He was thoroughly familiar with the history of California from

its cession to the United States at the close of the Mexican War.

He had been an active participant in many of the stirring events

occurring soon after the admission of the State into the Union.

"Men, except in bad novels, are not all good, or all evil."

Colonel McKibben was the second of David C. Broderick in his

duel with Judge Terry. At the time of the duel, Broderick was a

Senator of the United States, and Terry the Chief Justice of

California. The challenge given by Terry was promptly accepted.

As will be remembered, in the encounter which immediately followed,

Terry escaped unhurt and Broderick was killed.

I recall vividly the description given me of the meeting between

these men in that early Spring morning in 1859. Both possessed

unquestioned courage. Their demeanor upon the field, as in deadly

attitude they confronted each other a few paces apart, was that of

absolute fearlessness. "Each had set his life upon a cast, and

was ready to stand the hazard of the die."

Rarely have truer words been uttered than those of the gifted Baker

over the dead body of Broderick:

"The code of honor is a delusion and a snare; it palters with

the hope of true courage, and binds it at the feet of crafty and

cruel skill. It surrounds its victim with the pomp and grace of

the procession, but leaves him bleeding on the altar. It

substitutes cold and deliberate preparedness for courage and manly

impulse, and arms the one to disarm the other. It makes the mere

trick of the weapon superior to the noblest cause and the truest

courage. Its pretence of equality is a lie; it is equal in all the

form, it is unjust in all the substance. The habitude of arms,

the early training, the frontier life, the border war, the sectional

custom, the life of leisure, all these are advantages which no

negotiations can neutralize, and which no courage can overcome.

Code of honor! It is a prostitution of the name, is an evasion of

the substance, and is a shield blazoned with the name of chivalry to

cover the malignity of murder."

The tragic ending of the eventful career of Judge Terry, which

occurred within the last decade, will be readily recalled.

Immediately following his assault upon Justice Field at the railway

station in Lathrop, California, he was slain by a deputy United

States marshal. The wife of Terry was at his side, and the scene that

followed beggars description.

The name of Terry at once recalls the "Vigilance Committee" of

early San Francisco days. The committee was composed largely of

leading men of the "law-and-order" element of the city. Robberies

and murders were of nightly occurrence, and gamblers and criminals

in many instances were the incumbents of the public offices.

The organization mentioned became an imperative necessity for

the protection of life and property. The work of the committee

constitutes one of the bloodiest chapters of early Californian

history.

Nearly a third of a century ago, Colonel Thornton, a prominent

lawyer of San Francisco, related to me an incident which he had

witnessed during the time the famous Vigilance Committee was in

complete control. A young lawyer, recently located in San Francisco,

was arrested for stabbing a well-known citizen who was at the time

one of the most active members of the Vigilance Committee. The

name of the lawyer was David S. Terry, at a later day Chief Justice

of the State. The dread tribunal was presided over by one of

the most courageous and best known citizens of the Pacific coast.

At a later day, his name was presented by his State to the National

Convention of his party for nomination for the Vice-Presidency.

When brought before the Vigilance Committee, the demeanor of Terry

was that of absolute fearlessness. Standing erect and perfectly

self-possessed, he listened to the ominous words of the president:

"Mr. Terry, you are charged with attempted murder; what have you

to say?" Advancing a step nearer the committee "organized to

convict," and in a tone that at once challenged the respect of all,

Terry replied, "If your Honor please, I recognize the jurisdiction

of this court, and am ready for trial." He then clearly established

the fact that his assault was in self-defence, and after a masterly

speech, delivered with as much self-possession as if a life other than

his own trembled in the balance, was duly acquitted.

Another California with whom I was personally acquainted, was

William M. Gwin. He had long passed the allotted three score

and ten when I first met him at the home of the late Senator Sharon.

Few men have known so eventful a career. He had been the

private secretary of Andrew Jackson. He knew well the public men of

that day, and related many interesting incidents of the stormy

period of the latter years of Jackson's Presidency. In his

early manhood Gwin was a member of Congress from Alabama. At the

close of the Mexican War he removed to California, and upon the

admission of that State he and John C. Fremont were chosen its

first Senators in Congress.

During a ride with him, he pointed out to me the spot where he had

fought a duel in early California days. He was then a Senator,

and his antagonist the Hon. J. W. McCorkle, a member of Congress.

A card signed by their respective seconds appeared the day following,

to the effect that after the exchange of three ineffectual shots

between the Hon. William M. Gwin and the Hon. J. W. McCorkle, the

friends of the respective parties, having discovered that _their

principals were fighting under a misapprehension of facts,_ mutually

explained to their respective principals how the misapprehension

had arisen. As a result, Senator Gwin promptly denied the cause

of provocation and Mr. McCorkle withdrew his offensive language

uttered at the race-course, and expressed regret at having used it.

To a layman in these "piping times of peace" it would appear the

more reasonable course to have avoided "a misapprehension of facts"

before even three ineffectual shots.

At the beginning of the great civil conflict, the fortunes of

Senator Gwin were cast with the South, and at its close he became a

citizen of Mexico. Maximilian was then Emperor, and one of his

last official acts was the creation of a Mexican Duke out of the

sometime American Senator. The glittering empire set up by Napoleon

the Third and upheld for a time by French bayonets, was even then,

however, tottering to its fall.

When receiving the Ducal coronet from the Imperial hand the

self-expatriated American statesman might well have inquired,

"But shall we wear these glories for a day,

Or shall they last, and we rejoice in them?"

A few months later, at the behest of our Government, the French

arms were withdrawn, the bubble of Mexican Empire vanished, and

the ill-fated Maximilian had bravely met his tragic end. Thenceforth,

a resident but no longer a citizen of the land that had given

him birth, William M. Gwin, to the end of his life, bore the

high sounding but empty title of "Duke of Sonora."

Frequent as have been the instances in our own country where death

has resulted from duelling, it is believed that in but one has the

survivor incurred the extreme penalty of the law. That one case

occurred in 1820 in Illinois. What was intended merely as a "mock

duel" by their respective friends, was fought with rifles by William

Bennett and Alphonso Stewart in Belleville. It was privately agreed

by the seconds of each that the rifles should be loaded with blank

cartridges. This arrangement was faithfully carried out so far as

the seconds were concerned; but Bennett, the challenging party,

managed to get a bullet into his own gun. The result was the

immediate death of Stewart, and the flight of his antagonist. Upon

his return to Belleville a year or two later, Bennett was immediately

arrested, placed upon trial, convicted, and executed.

In more than one instance, at a later day, while well-known

Illinoisans have been parties to actual or prospective duels, no

instance has occurred of a hostile meeting of that character within

the limits of the State. A late auditor of public account, but

recently deceased, killed his antagonist in a duel with rifles

nearly half a century ago in California.

William I. Ferguson, one of the most brilliant orators Illinois

has known, in early professional life the associate of men who have

since achieved national distinction, fell in a duel while a member

of the State Senate in California.

During the sitting of the Illinois Constitutional Convention of

1847, two of its prominent members, Campbell and Pratt, delegates from

the northern tier of counties, became involved in a bitter personal

controversy which resulted in a challenge by Pratt to mortal combat.

The challenge was accepted and the principals with their seconds repaired

to the famous "Bloody Island" in the Mississippi, when by the

interposition of friends a peaceable settlement was effected. The sequel

to this happily averted duel was the incorporation in the Constitution,

then in process of formulation, of a provision prohibiting duelling in

the State, and attaching severe penalties to sending or accepting

a challenge.

The earliest hostile meeting of Illinoisans was upon the island

last mentioned before State organization had been effected. The

principals were young men of well-known courage and ability--one

of whom, Shadrack Bond, upon the admission of Illinois was elected

its Governor. His adversary, John Rice Jones, was the first lawyer

to locate in the Illinois country, and was the brother of the second

of the unfortunate Cilley in the tragic encounter already related.

The late Governor Bissell of Illinois was once challenged by

Jefferson Davis. Both were at the time members of Congress, and

the _casus belli_ was language reflecting upon the conduct of some

of the participants in the then recently fought battle of Buena

Vista. After the acceptance of the challenge, mutual friends of

Davis and Bissell effected a reconciliation, just before the hour set

for the hostile meeting.

So far as Illinois combatants are concerned, the historic island

mentioned above has little claim to its bloody designation, inasmuch

as the "affairs" mentioned, and one much more famous, yet to be

noted, were all honorably adjusted without physical harm to any of

the participants.

The "affair of honor," the mention of which will close this chapter,

owes its chief importance to the prominence attained at a later

day by its principals. The challenger, James Shields, was at that

time, 1842, a State officer of Illinois, and later a general in

two wars and a Senator from three States. The name of his adversary

has since "been given to the ages." Mr. Lincoln was, at the time he

accepted Mr. Shields's challenge, a young lawyer, unmarried, residing

at the State capital. He was the recognized leader of the Whig

party, and an active participant in the fierce political conflicts

of the day. Some criticism in which he had indulged, touching the

administration of the office of which Shields was the incumbent,

was the immediate cause of the challenge.

That Mr. Lincoln was upon principle opposed to duelling would be

readily inferred from his characteristic kindness. That "we are

time's subjects," however, and that the public opinion of sixty-odd

years ago is not that of to-day will readily appear from the

published statement of his friend Dr. Merryman:

"I told Mr. Lincoln what was brewing, and asked him what course he

proposed to himself. He said that he was wholly opposed to duelling

and would do anything to avoid it that might not degrade him in

the estimation of himself and friends; but if such a degradation, or

a fight, were the only alternatives, he would fight."

It is stated by one of the biographers of Mr. Lincoln that he

was ever after averse to any allusion to the Shields affair. From

the terms of his acceptance, it is evident that he intended neither

to injure his adversary seriously nor to receive injury at his

hands. In his lengthy letter of instruction to his second, he

closed by saying:

"If nothing like this is done, the preliminaries of the fight are to

be, first, weapons: cavalry broadswords of the largest size,

precisely equal in all respects. Second, position: a plank ten

feet long and from nine to twelve inches broad, to be firmly fixed

on edge on the ground as the line between us which neither is to

pass his foot over upon forfeit of his life. Next, a line drawn

on the ground on either side of said plank and parallel with it,

each at the distance of the whole length of the sword, and three

feet additional from the plank; the passing of his own line by

either party during the fight shall be deemed a surrender of the

contest. Third, time: on Thursday evening at five o'clock within

three miles of Alton on the opposite side of the river, the particular

spot to be agreed on by you. Any preliminary details coming within

the above rules you are at liberty to make at your discretion, but

you are in no case to swerve from these rules or to pass beyond

their limits."

The keen sense of the humorous, with which Mr. Lincoln was so

abundantly gifted, seems not to have wholly deserted him even in

the serious moments when penning an acceptance to mortal combat.

The terms of meeting indicated--which he as the challenged party

had the right to dictate--lend color to the opinion that he regarded

the affair in the light of a mere farce. His superior height

and length of arm remembered, and the position of the less favored

Shields, with broadsword in hand, at the opposite side of the board,

and not permitted "upon forfeit of his life" to advance an inch

--the picture is indeed a ludicrous one.

Out of the lengthy statements of the respective seconds--the

publication of which came near involving themselves in personal

altercation--it appears that all parties actually reached the

appointed rendezvous on time.

But it was not written in the book of fate that this duel was to

take place. Something of mightier moment was awaiting one of

the actors in this drama. Two level-headed men, R. W. English and

John J. Hardin, the friends respectively of Shields and Lincoln,

crossing the Mississippi in a canoe close in the wake of the

belligerents, reached the field just before the appointed hour.

These gentlemen, acting in concert with the seconds, Whiteside and

Merryman, soon effected a reconciliation deemed honorable to all, and

the Shields-Lincoln duel passed to the domain of history. That

the reconciliation thus brought about was sincere was evidenced by

the fact that one of the earliest acts of President Lincoln was

the appointment of General Shields to an important military command.

How strangely "the whirligig of time brings in his revenges!" A

few paces apart in the old Hall at the Capitol at Washington, stand

two statues, the contribution of Illinois for enduring place in

the "Temple of the Immortals." One is the statue of Lincoln,

the other that of Shields.

XI

A PRINCELY GIFT

DESCENT OF JAMES SMITHSON, FOUNDER OF THE SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION--

HIS EDUCATION AND HIS WRITINGS--HIS WILL--THE UNITED STATES HIS

RESIDUARY LEGATEE--SUCCESSFUL PROSECUTION OF THE CLAIM OF THE UNITED

STATES TO THE LEGACY--PLANS SUGGESTED FOR THE DISPOSAL OF THE FUND

--PROF. JOSEPH HENRY APPOINTED SECRETARY--BENEFICENT WORK OF THE

INSTITUTION.

Although a third of a century has passed since I met Professor

Joseph Henry, I distinctly recall his kindly greeting and the

courteous manner in which he gave me the information I requested

for the use of one of the Committees of the House.

The frosts of many winters were then on his brow, and he was near the

close of an honorable career, one of measureless benefit to mankind.

He was the first secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, and the

originator of the plan by which was carried into practical effect the

splendid bequest for "the increase and diffusion of knowledge among

men."

As Vice-President of the United States, a regent _ex-officio_ of

the Smithsonian Institution, I had rare opportunity to learn much of

its history and something of its marvellous accomplishment. As is

well known, it bears the name of James Smithson. He was an

Englishman, related to the historic family of Percy, and a

lineal descendent of Henry the Seventh, his maternal ancestor being

the ill-fated Lady Jane Grey, cousin to Queen Elizabeth.

Mr. Langley, the late secretary of the institution, said:

"Smithson always seems to have regarded the circumstances of his

birth as doing him a peculiar injustice, and it was apparently this

sense that he had been deprived of honors properly his which made him

look for other sources of fame than those which birth had denied

him, and constituted the motive of the most important action of

his life, the creation of the Smithsonian Institution."

The deep resentment of Smithson against the great families who had

virtually disowned him, finds vent in a letter yet extant, of which

the following is a part: "The best blood of England flows in my

veins; on my father's side I am a Northumberland, on my mother's

I am related to kings; but this avails me not. My name shall live

in the memory of man when the titles of the Northumberlands and

the Percys are extinct and forgotten."

How truly his indignant forecast was prophetic is now a matter

of history. Few men know much about the once proud families of

Northumberland or Percy, but the name of the youth they scornfully

disowned lives in the institution he founded, the greatest

instrumentality yet devised for "the increase and diffusion of

knowledge among men."

Smithson was born in 1765, and received the degree of Master of

Arts from Pembroke College at the age of twenty-one. A year later

he was admitted a Fellow of the Royal Society, upon the recommendation

of his instructors, as being "a gentleman well versed in the various

branches of Natural Philosophy, and particularly in Chemistry and

Mineralogy." As a student, he was devoted to the study of the

sciences, especially chemistry, and his entire life, in fact,

was given to scientific research. Twenty-seven papers from his

pen were published in "The Philosophical Transactions of the Royal

Society" and in "Thompson's Annals of Philosophy," near the close of

the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth century, and

"all give evidence that he was an assiduous and faithful

experimenter."

In this connection, the statement of Professor Clarke, Chief Chemist

of the United States Geographical Survey, is in point:

"The most notable feature of Smithson's writings from the standpoint

of the analytical chemist, is the success obtained with the most

primitive and unsatisfactory appliances. In Smithson's day, chemical

apparatus was undeveloped, and instruments were improvised from

such materials as lay readiest to hand. With such instruments,

and with crude reagents, Smithson obtained analytical results of

the most creditable character, and enlarged our knowledge of

many mineral species. In his time, the native carbonate and the

silicate of zinc were confounded as one species under the name

calamine; but his researches distinguished between the two minerals,

which are now known as Smithsonite and Calamine, respectively.

"To theory Smithson contributed little, if anything; but from a

theoretical point of view, the tone of his writings is singularly

modern. His work was mostly done before Dalton had announced

the atomic theory; and yet Smithson saw clearly that a law of

definite proportions must exist, although he did not attempt to

account for it. His ability as a reasoner is best shown in his

paper on the Kirkdale Bone Cave, which Penn had sought to interpret

by reference to the Noachian Deluge. A clearer and more

complete demolition of Penn's views could hardly be written to-day.

Smithson was gentle with his adversary, but none the less thorough,

for all his moderation. He is not to be classed among the leaders

of scientific thought; but his ability and the usefulness of his

contributions to knowledge, cannot be doubted."

The life of Smithson was uncheered by domestic affection; he was

of singularly retiring disposition, had no intimacies, spent the

closing years of his life in Paris, and was long the uncomplaining

victim of a painful malady. Professor Langley said of him:

"One gathers from his letters, from the uniform consideration with

which he speaks of others, from kind traits which he showed, and

from the general tenor of what is not here particularly cited, the

remembrance of an innately gentle nature, but also of a man who is

gradually renouncing not without bitterness the youthful hope of

fame, and as health and hope diminished together, is finally living

for the day, rather than for any future."

He died in Genoa, Italy, June 27, 1829, and was buried in the little

English cemetery on the heights of San Benigno. The Institution

he founded has placed a tablet over his tomb and surrounded it with

evidences of continued and thoughtful care.

His will--possibly of deeper concern to mankind than any yet written

--bears date October 23, 1826. In its opening clause he designates

himself: "Son of Hugh, First Duke of Northumberland, and Elizabeth,

heiress of the Hungerfords of Studley, and niece to Charles the

proud Duke of Somerset." Herein clearly appears his undying

resentment toward those who had denied him the position in life to

which he considered himself justly entitled.

The only persons designated in his will as legatees are a faithful

servant, for whom abundant provision was made, and Henry James

Hungerford, nephew of the testator. To the latter was devised the

entire estate except the legacy to the servant mentioned. The

clause of the will which has given the name of Smithson to the ages

seems to have been almost casually inserted; it appears between

the provision for his servant and the one for an investment of the

funds.

The clause in his will which was to cause his name "to live in the

memory of man when the titles of the Northumberlands and the Percys

are extinct and forgotten," was,--

"In the case of the death of my said nephew without leaving a child

or children, or the death of the child or children he may have had

under the age of twenty-one years, or intestate, I then bequeath

the whole of my property subject to the annuity of one hundred

pounds to John Fitall (for the security and payment of which I have

made provision) to the United States of America, to found at

Washington, under the name of the Smithsonian Institution, an

establishment for the increase and diffusion of knowledge among

men."

Why he selected the United States as his residuary legatee has long

been, and will continue to be, the subject of curious inquiry. He

had never been in America, had no correspondent here, and nowhere in

his writings has there been found an allusion to our country.

So far as we know, he could have had no possible prejudice in favor

of our system of representative government.

It is a singular fact, however, in this connection, that the pivotal

clause in his will bears striking resemblance to the admonition,

"Promote as an object of primary importance institutions for the

general diffusion of knowledge," contained in the farewell address

of President Washington.

The contingency provided for happened; the death of the nephew

Hungerford unmarried and without heirs occurred six years after

that of the testator. The first announcement to the people of the

United States of the facts stated was contained in a special message

from President Jackson to Congress, December 17, 1835. Accompanying

the message was a letter with a detailed statement, and copy of

the will, from our Legation in London. In closing his brief message

of transmission, President Jackson says: "The Executive having no

authority to take any steps for accepting the trust and obtaining the

funds, the papers are communicated with a view to such measures as

Congress may deem necessary."

On the first day of July, 1836, a bill authorizing the President

to assert and prosecute the claim of the United States to the

Smithson legacy became a law. This, however, was after much

opposition in Congress; a member of the House indignantly declaring

that our Government should receive nothing by way of gift from

England, and proposing that the bequest should be denied. The

prophetic words of the venerable John Quincy Adams--then a member of

the House after his retirement from the Presidency--in advocating

the passage of the bill are worthy of remembrance:

"Of all the foundations of establishments for pious or charitable uses

which ever signalized the spirit of the age, or the comprehensive

beneficence of the founders, none can be named more deserving the

approbation of mankind than this. Should it be faithfully carried

into effect with an earnestness and sagacity of application and a

steady perseverance of purpose proportioned to the means furnished

by the will of the founder, and to the greatness and simplicity of

his design as by himself declared,--'the increase and diffusion of

knowledge among men,'--it is no extravagance of anticipation to declare

that his name will hereafter be enrolled among the benefactors of mankind."

In the execution of this law, the President immediately upon its

enactment appointed Richard Rush, a distinguished lawyer of

Philadelphia, to proceed to London, and take the necessary steps

to obtain the legacy. To the accomplishment of this purpose a suit

was soon thereafter instituted by Mr. Rush. The hopelessness of

its early termination in an English Chancery Court of that day will

at once occur to the readers of Dickens's famous "Jarndyce against

Jarndyce." It was truly said, that a chancery suit was a thing

which might begin with a man's life, and its termination be his

epitaph.

A wiser selection than Mr. Rush could not have been made. He

entered upon the work to which he had been appointed, with great

determination. In a letter to our Secretary of State just after

he had instituted suit, he says:

"A suit of higher interest and dignity, has rarely perhaps been

before the tribunals of a nation. If the trust created by the

testator's will be successfully carried into effect by the enlightened

legislation of Congress, benefits may flow to the United States,

and to the human family, not easy to be estimated, because operating

silently and gradually throughout time, yet not operating the less

effectually. Not to speak of the inappreciable value of letters

to individual and social man, the monuments which they raise to

a nation's glory often last when others perish, and seem especially

appropriate to the glory of a Republic whose foundations are laid in

the assumed intelligence of its citizens, and can only be strengthened

and perpetuated as that improve."

The successful termination of the suit came, however, sooner

than could have been expected; and in May, 1838, the amount of the

legacy, exceeding the substantial sum of five hundred thousand

dollars, was received and invested as required by law.

The facts stated were communicated by special message from President

Van Buren to Congress, in December, 1838. Attention was then called

to the fact that he had applied to persons versed in science,

for their views as to the mode of disposing of the fund which would

be calculated best to meet the intent of the testator, and prove

most beneficial to mankind.

During the eight years intervening between this message and the

passage of the bill for the incorporation of the Smithsonian

Institution, much discussion was had in and out of Congress, as to

the best method of making effective the intention of the testator.

In the light of events, some of the many plans suggested are even now

of curious interest. The establishment of a magnificent national library

at the Capital; the founding of a great university; of a normal

school; a post graduate school; and astronomical observatory "equal

to any in the world," are a few of the plans from time to time

proposed and earnestly advocated.

The act of incorporation in 1846, the appointment of a Board of

Regents, and the selection of a Secretary, mark the beginning of

the Smithsonian Institution. In the selection of a Secretary, the

chief officer of the institution, the regents builded better

than they knew. The choice fell upon Professor Joseph Henry of

Princeton, then peerless among men of science in America. The

appointment was accepted, and the essential features of the plan

of organization he proposed were adopted in December, 1847.

This plan recognized as

"Fundamental that the terms 'increase' and 'diffusion' should

receive literal interpretation in accordance with the evident

intention of the testator; that such terms being logically distinct,

the two purposes mentioned in the bequest were to be kept in view in

the organization of the institution; that the increase of knowledge

should be effected by the encouragement of original researches

of the highest character; and its diffusion by the publication

of the results of original research, by means of the publication

of a series of volumes of original memoirs; that the object of the

institution should not be restricted in favor of any particular

kind of knowledge; if to any, only to the higher and more abstract,

to the discovery of new principles rather than that of isolated

facts; that the institution should in no sense be national; that

the bequest was intended for the benefit of mankind in general,

and not for any single nation.

"The accumulation and care of collections of objects of nature and

art, the development of a library, the providing of courses of

lectures, and the organization of a system of meteorological

observation, were to be only incidental to the fundamental design of

increasing and diffusing knowledge among men."

In its inception, and in its widening influence during the passing

years, those entrusted with the actual management of this institution

have conscientiously kept in view the clearly expressed intention of

its founder. Following the distinctive but parallel paths, "increase"

and "diffusion," the Smithsonian Institution, yet in its infancy, has

added largely to the sum of useful knowledge. Its accredited

representatives are out upon every pathway of intelligent research

and discovery. Under the wise operation of this marvellous

instrumentality, long-concealed secrets of nature have been

discovered, and it can hardly be doubted that all that is given to

man to know will yet be revealed, and it will be permitted him

"To read what is still unread,

In the manuscripts of God."

By indefatigable investigation, and by world-wide publication of

the results, mankind has indeed become, as was intended, the

beneficiary of the princely bequest.

More fitting words could not be selected with which to close

this sketch than those of the gifted and lamented Langley, whose

best years were given to scientific research, and whose name is

inseparably associated with the Smithsonian Institution:

"What has been done in these two paths the reader may partly gather

from this volume--in the former from the various articles by

contemporary men of science, describing its activities in research

and original contributions to the increase of human knowledge;

in the latter, in numerous way--among others from the description of

the work of one of its bureaux, that of the International Exchanges,

where it may be more immediately seen how universal is the scope

of the action of the Institution, which, in accordance with its

motto 'PER ORBEM,' is not limited to the country of its adoption, but

belongs to the world, there being outside of the United States more

than twelve thousand correspondents scattered through every portion

of the globe; indeed there is hardly a language, or a people, where

the results of Smithson's benefaction are not known, and associated

with his name.

"If we were permitted to think of him as conscious of what has

been, is being, and is still to be done, in pursuance of his wish,

we might believe that he would feel that his hope at a time when

life must have seemed so hopeless, was finding full fruition;

for events are justifying what may have seemed, at the time, but

a rhetorical expression, in the language of a former President of

the United States, who has said: 'Renowned as is the name of Percy

in the historical annals of England, let the trust of James Smithson

to the United States of America be faithfully executed, let the

result accomplish his object, the increase and diffusion of knowledge

among men, and a wreath more unfading shall entwine itself in

the lapse of future ages around the name of Smithson than the united

hands of history and poetry have braided around the name of

Percy through the long ages past.'"

XII

THE OLD RANGER

JOHN REYNOLDS, GOVERNOR OF ILLINOIS, A BORN POLITICIAN--HIS KNOWLEDGE

OF THE PEOPLE--HIS AFFECTATION OF HUMILITY--ADMITTED TO THE BAR

--HE CONDEMNS A MURDERER TO DEATH--HIS CURIOUS ADDRESS TO ANOTHER

MURDERER--BECOMES A MEMBER OF THE LEGISLATURE--ELECTED GOVERNOR

--HIS GENEROSITY TO HIS POLITICAL ENEMIES--BECOMES A MEMBER OF

CONGRESS--HIS ADMIRATION FOR HIS ASSOCIATES--ELECTED A MEMBER OF THE

GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF THE STATE--RETIRES TO PRIVATE LIFE.

This world of ours will be much older before the like of John

Reynolds, the fourth Governor of Illinois, again appears upon

its stage. The title which he generously gave himself in early

manhood, upon his return after a brief experience as a trooper

in pursuit of a marauding band of Winnebagoes, stood him well in

hand in all his future contests for office. "The Old Ranger" was a

_sobriquet_ to conjure with, and turned the scales in his favor in

many a doubtful contest.

The subject of this sketch was a born politician if ever one

trod this green earth. He was a perennial candidate for office,

and it was said he never took a drink of water without serious

meditation as to how it might possibly affect his political prospects.

The late Uriah Heep might easily have gotten a few points in

"'umbleness," if he had accompanied the Old Ranger in one or two

of his political campaigns.

While Illinois was yet a Territory, his father had emigrated from the

mountains of Tennessee and located near the historic village of

Kaskaskia. This was at the time the capital of the Territory.

The village mentioned was then the most, and in fact, the only,

important place in the vast area constituting the present State of

Illinois. There were less than five thousand persons of all

nationalities and conditions in the Territory, and they mainly

in and about Kaskaskia, and southward to the Ohio. Beck's Gazetteer

published in 1823--five years after the admission of the State into

the Union--contains the following: "Chicago, a village of Pike

County, situated on Lake Michigan at the mouth of the Chicago Creek.

It contains twelve or fifteen houses, and about sixty or seventy

inhabitants."

The acquaintance of John Reynolds with what was then known as "the

Illinois Country" began in 1800, and his thorough knowledge of the

people and their ways gave him rare opportunities for acquiring

great personal popularity. Fairly well educated for the times,

gifted with an abundance of shrewdness, and withal an excellent

judge of human nature, he soon became a man of mark in the new

country. He was at all times and under all circumstances the

self-constituted "friend of the people." He affected to be one of

the humblest of the sons of men; and his dress, language, and

deportment were always in strict keeping with that assumption. For

the pride of ancestry he had a supreme contempt. In his "My Own

Times," published a few years before his death, he said: "I regard

the whole subject of ancestry and descent as utterly frivolous and

unworthy of a moment's serious attention."

This recalls what Judge Baldwin said of Cave Burton:

"He was not clearly satisfied that Esau made as foolish a bargain with

his brother Jacob as some think. If the birth-right was _a mere

matter of family pride,_ and the pottage of agreeable taste, Cave was

not quite sure that Esau had not gotten the advantage in his famed

bargain with the Father of Israel."

Humility was Reynolds's highest card, and when out among the people

he was always figuratively clothed in sackcloth and ashes. A

few extracts from his book may be of interest:

"I was a singular spectacle when in 1809 I started to Tennessee to

college. I looked like a trapper going to the Rocky Mountains.

I wore a cream-colored hat made of the fur of the prairie wolf,

which gave me a grotesque appearance. I was well acquainted with the

mysteries of horse and foot races, shooting matches, and other wild

sports of the backwoods, but had not studied the polish of the

ball-room and was sorely beset with diffidence, awkwardness, and

poverty."

Later, and when out in pursuit of the Indians, he said: "But

diffidence never permitted me to approach an officer's tent, or

solicit any one for office."

None the less, the office of Orderly Sergeant being thrust upon

him, he managed in his humble way to get through with it

passably well.

When the State Government was organized in 1818, while shrinking

from even the gaze of men, and spurning from the depths of his soul

the arts of politicians, he managed in some way to be designated

one of the judges of the Supreme Court of the new State. His

admiration for the dispensing hand appears as follows: "Wisdom

and integrity, with other noble qualities, gave Governor Bond a

high standing with his contemporaries. Wisdom and integrity shed a

beacon light around his path through life, showing him to be one

of the noblest works of God."

Four years prior to this appointment, he had been admitted to

the bar, after "undergoing with much diffidence" his examination.

This accomplished, he adds: "In the Winter of 1814, I established

a very humble and obscure law-office in the French village of

Cahokia, the county seat of St. Clair County." The bearing of the

one whose meat was locusts and wild honey, and whose loins were

girt about with a leathern girdle, was arrogance itself, when

compared with the deportment of the later John in the wilderness

at the period whereof we write.

That he was orthodox upon what pertained to medical practice will now

appear: "It was the universal practice to give the patient of the

bilious disease, first, tartar emetic; next day, calomel and jalap;

and the third day, Peruvian bark. This was generally sufficient."

The latter statement will hardly be questioned.

How his first visitation of the tender passion was mingled with

a relish of philosophy is recorded for the benefit of posterity:

"During all my previous life until within a short time before I

married, I had not the least intention of that state of existence,

and I expressed myself often to my friends to the same effect; but

on the subject of matrimony, a passion influences the parties which

generally succeeds. Judgment and prudence should be mixed in

equal parts with love and affection in the transaction, to secure a

lasting and happy union."

With all his diffidence, however, the Old Ranger happened to turn up

at the seat of Government in time "to be persuaded by my friends

to be a candidate for a Judgeship. It broke in on me like a clap of

thunder." The mite of philosophy with which he excused himself

for giving way to the urgent demand of his friends is as follows:

"Human nature is easier to persuade to mount upwards than to remain

on the common level."

His mind, as will appear, was essentially of the strictly practical

cast. He no doubt believed with Macaulay that "one acre in Middlesex

is worth a principality in Utopia."

That the Republican simplicity of the new Judge followed him from his

"very humble and obscure law-office" to the Bench, will now appear:

"The very first court I held was in Washington County, and it was to

me a strange and novel business. I was amongst old comrades

with whom I had been raised, ranged in the war with them, and lived

with them in great intimacy and equality, so that it was difficult

to assume a different relationship than I had previously occupied with

them. Moreover I detested a mock dignity. Both the sheriff and

clerk were rangers in the same company with myself, and it seemed we

were still ranging on equal terms in pursuit of the Indians.

The sheriff was of the same opinion and very familiar. He opened court

sitting astride on a bench in the Court-house, and without rising,

proclaimed: 'The court is now open, and our John is on the bench.'"

It may here be mentioned that the first case of importance that

came before Judge Reynolds, was the trial of one William Bennett

for murder. He had killed his antagonist in a duel in St. Clair

County, for which he suffered the death penalty. This is the only

duel ever fought in Illinois. No doubt the prompt execution of

Bennett did much to discourage duelling in the State.

In reply to the charge that he had acted with unbecoming levity

upon the trial of Bennett, the Judge said, "No human being of my

humble capacity could have acted with more painful feelings and

sympathy than did I on this occasion." Having thus vindicated

himself from the serious charge mentioned, he adds:

"I am opposed to capital punishment in any case where the convict can

be kept in solitary confinement without pardoning his life; it was

extremely painful and awful to me to be the instrument in the hands

of the law to pronounce sentence of death upon my fellow-man,

extinguishing him forever from the face of the earth, and depriving

him of life, which I think belongs to God and not to man."

He consoles himself, however, as he closes his narrative of this

sad affair, that "it never did assume the character of a regular

and honorable duel." It is very satisfactory also, even at this

distant date, to be assured by the Judge that "the prisoner embraced

religion, was baptized, and died happy, before spectators to the

number of two thousand or more."

Governor Ford, in his history of Illinois, relates the following

incident as characteristic of Judge Reynolds. The latter was

holding court in Washington County when one Green was found guilty

upon an indictment for murder. The court was near the hour of

adjournment for the term, when the prosecuting attorney suggested to

the court that the prisoner Green be brought in in order that

sentence be passed upon him. "Certainly, certainly," said the

Judge, and the prisoner was at once brought in from the jail

near by.

"Mr. Green," said the Judge in a familiar tone, "the jury in

your case have found you guilty. I want you to understand, Mr.

Green, and all your friends down on Indian Creek to know, that

it is not I who condemns you, but the jury and the law. The law

allows you time for preparation, Mr. Green; and so the court wants

to know what time it would suit you to be hung?" The prisoner

replying that he was ready to suffer at whatever time the court

might appoint, the Judge said;

"Mr. Green, you must know that it is a very serious matter to be

hung. It can't happen to a man more than once in his life, and

you had better take all the time you can get; the court will give you

till this day four weeks. Mr. Clerk, look at the almanac and see if

this day four weeks comes on Sunday." The Clerk after examination

reported that that day four weeks came on Friday. The Judge then

said: "Mr. Green, the court gives you till this day four weeks,

and then you are to be hanged."

Whereupon the prosecuting officer, the Hon. James Turney, an able and

dignified lawyer, said:

"May it please the court, on solemn occasion like the present, when

the life of a human being is to be sentenced away for crime by

an earthly tribunal, it is usual and proper for courts to pronounce

a formal sentence, in which the leading features of the crime shall

be brought to the recollection of the prisoner, a sense of his

guilt impressed upon his conscience, and in which the prisoner

should be duly exhorted to repentance and warned against the judgment

in a world to come."

To which the Judge replied: "Oh, Mr. Turney, Mr. Green understands

the whole matter as well as if I had preached to him a month.

He knows he has got to be hung this day four weeks. You understand

it that way, Mr. Green, don't you?"

"Yes," said the prisoner, upon which the Judge again expressing

the hope that he and all his friends down on Indian Creek would

understand that it was the act of the jury and of the law, _and

not of the Judge,_ ordered the prisoner to be remanded to jail,

and the court adjourned for the term.

For some reason, by no means satisfactorily explained, Judge Reynolds

retired from the bench at the end of his four years' term. In

"Breese," the first volume of Illinois reports, is an opinion by

Judge Reynolds which has been the subject of amusing comment by

three generations of lawyers. After giving sundry reasons why

there was error in the judgment below, the learned Judge concludes:

"Therefore, the judgment _ought to be_ reversed; but inasmuch as

the court is equally divided in opinion, it is therefore

_affirmed."_

He then resumed the practice of the law, and as he says, "was

familiar with the people, got acquainted with everybody, and became

somewhat popular. I had no settled object in view other than to

make a living, and to continue on my humble, peaceable, and agreeable

manner." In view of the aversion already shown to office-holding,

the following disclaimer upon the part of the Judge seems wholly

superfluous: "I had no political ambition or aspirations for office

whatever."

It is gratifying to know that at this time his domestic affairs

were in a satisfactory condition: "Plain and unpretending; never kept

any liquor in the house--treated my friends to every civility except

liquor; used an economy bordering on parsimony."

Under the favorable conditions mentioned, the Judge was enabled to

overcome his aversion to holding office, and became a humble member

of the State Legislature immediately upon his retirement from

the bench. That his "modest aspirations" were on a higher plane

than that of ordinary legislators will clearly appear from the

following: "I entered this Legislature without any ulterior views,

and with an eye single to advance the best interests of the State,

and particularly the welfare of old St. Clair County. My only

ambition was to acquit myself properly, and to advance the best

interests of the country."

Two years later, the aversion of the Old Ranger for office was

again overcome, as will appear from the following: "I entered this

Legislature, as I had the last, without any pledge or restraints

whatever; I then was, and am yet, only an humble member of the

Democratic party."

His friends were again on the war-path and the shadow of the chief

executive office of the State was now beginning to fall across his

pathway. He says:

"It would require volumes to record the transactions of these

Legislatures, and of my humble labors in them; but it was my course

of conduct in these two sessions of the General Assembly that

induced my friends, _without any solicitation on my part,_ to offer

me as a candidate for Governor. I was urged not by politicians,

but by reasonable and reflecting men, more to advance the interest

of the State than my own."

If we did not, from his own lips, know how the Judge loathed

"the arts of politicians," we might almost be tempted to conclude from

the following that he was one of them:

"I traversed every section of the State, and knew well the people.

My friends had the utmost confidence in my knowledge of the people,

and when I suggested any policy to be observed, this suggestion

was consequently carried out as I requested--thus placing all under

one leader."

This, it will be remembered, was in 1830, and neither Reynolds nor

Kinney, his competitor, had received a party nomination. Both were

of the same party, Kinney being a strong Jackson man of the

ultra type, and the Judge only a "plain, humble, reflecting Jackson

man."

At one time during the campaign it seemed as if there were real

danger of this candidate of the "reflecting men of the State"

actually falling into the ways and wiles of politicians. "I often

addressed the people in churches, in courthouses, and in the

open air, myself occupying literally the stump of a large tree;

_at times also in a grocery."_

The fiery and abusive hand-bills against his competitor he did not

attempt to restrain his friends from circulating, "as they had a

right to exercise their own judgment"; but he declares he did

not circulate one himself. He moreover felicitates himself upon

the fact that his conciliatory course gained him votes.

This noted contest lasted eighteen months, as Reynolds says, and, the

State being sparsely populated, he enjoyed the personal acquaintance

of almost every voter. The fact, as he further states, that his

opponent was a clergyman, was a great drawback to him, and almost all

the Christian sects, except his own--the anti-missionary Baptists--

opposed him. With a candor that does him credit, the Judge admits

"the support of the religious people was not so much _for me,_ but

_against him."_

No national issues were discussed, but one point urged by Kinney

against the proposed Michigan canal was, "that it would flood

the country with Yankees." It would be a great mistake to suppose

that Reynolds himself wholly escaped vituperation. On the contrary,

he claims the credit of being "the best abused man in the State."

He relates that one of the stories told on him was, "that I saw

a scarecrow, the effigy of a man in a corn-field, just at dusk,

and that I said, 'How are you, my friend? Won't you take some of

my hand bills to distribute?'"

Some light is shed on the politics of the good old days of our

fathers by the following: "The party rancor in the campaign raged

so high that neighborhoods fell out with one another, and the angry

and bitter feelings entered into the common transactions of life."

If the contest had lasted a year or two longer it is not improbably

that our candidate would have fallen from his high "reflecting"

state to the low level of artful politician. "It was the universal

custom of the times to treat with liquor. We both did it; but

he was condemned for it more than myself by the religious community,

_he being a preacher of the Gospel."_

Some atonement, however, is made for the bad whiskey our model

candidate dispensed by the noble sentiment with which he closes

this chapter of his contest: "I was, and am yet, one of the people,

and every pulsation of our hearts beats in unison."

Having been elected by a considerable majority as he modestly

remarks, our Governor-elect falls into something of a philosophical

train of thought, and horror of politicians and their wiles and

ways again possessed him. He says:

"It may be considered vanity and frailty in me, but when I was

elected Governor of the State on fair, honorable principles by the

masses, without intrigue or management of party or corrupt politicians,

I deemed it the decided approbation of my countrymen, and consequently

a great honor."

The admonition of this sage statesman to the rising generation upon

the subject of office-seeking, is worthy of profound consideration:

"But were I to live over again another life, I think I would have the

moral courage to refrain from aspiring for any office within the

gift of the people. By no means do I believe a person should be

sordid and selfish in all his actions, yet cannot a person be more

useful to the public if he possesses talents in other situations

than in office?"

Some memory of the well-known ingratitude of republics evidently

entered like iron into his very soul when his memoirs were written:

"Moreover, a public officer may toil and labor all his best days

with the utmost fidelity and patriotism, and the masses who reap

the reward of his labors frequently permit him, without any particular

fault upon his part, to live and die in his old age with disrespect.

Witness the punishment inflicted on Socrates, on our Saviour,

and many others for no crime whatever. But this contumely and

disrespect ought not to deter _a good and qualified man_ from

entering the public service, if he is satisfied that the good of

the country requires it."

At this point in the career of this eminent public servant, deep

sympathy is aroused on account of the conflict between his humility

and a not very clearly-defined belief that something was due to

the great office to which he had been elevated. As preliminary,

however, to accomplishing what was for the best interests of the

people it must not be forgotten that "my first object was to soften

down the public mind to its sober senses." That no living man was

better qualified for the accomplishment of so praiseworthy a purpose

will now appear: "It has been my opinion of my humble self,

that whatever small forte I might possess was to conciliate and

soften down a turbulent and furious people."

This being all satisfactorily accomplished and the abundant reward

of the peacemaker in sure keeping for this humble instrument,

his efforts were now directed toward the discharge of the duties

of the office to which he had so unexpectedly been called.

That this hitherto unquestioned "friend of the people" was now

manifesting a slight tendency toward the frailties and vanities of

the common run of men, will appear from the following:

"It was my nature not to feel or appear elevated, but I discovered

that my appearance and deportment, at times, might look like affected

humility or mock modesty, which I sincerely despised, and then

_I would straighten up a little."_

It may be truly said of Reynolds, as Macaulay said of Horace Walpole:

"The conformation of his mind was such that whatever was little

seemed to him great; and whatever was great, seemed to him little."

Having in his inaugural given expression to the noble sentiment

that "proscription for opinion's sake is the worst enemy to the

Republic," he at once generously dispelled whatever apprehensions his

late opponents might feel as to what was to befall them, by the

assurance: "Therefore, all those who honestly and honorably

supported my respectable opponent in the last election for Governor

shall experience from me no inconvenience on that account."

Unfortunately no light is shed upon the interesting inquiry as

to what "inconvenience" was experienced by those who had otherwise

than "honestly and honorably" supported his respectable opponent

in the late contest.

The Black Hawk War was the principal event of the administration

of Governor Reynolds. A treaty of peace being concluded, the

Indians were removed beyond the Mississippi River. In all this

the Governor acquitted himself with credit.

That his aversion to office-holding was in some measure lessening,

will appear from the following:

"Being in the office of Governor for some years, I was prevented

from the practice of the law, and in the meantime had been engaged

in public life until it commenced _to be a kind of second nature

to me._ Moreover, I was then young, ardent, and ambitious, so that

I really thought it was right for me to offer for Congress; and

I did so, in the Spring of 1834."

An "artful politician" would probably have waited until the expiration

of his term as Governor. Not so with this "friend of the people."

He was not only elected to the next Congress, but the death of the

sitting member for the District creating a vacancy, Reynolds was

of course elected to that also, and was thus at one time Governor of

the State and member elect both to the next and to the present

Congress.

His triumph over his "able and worthy competitor" is accounted for

in this wise: "I was myself tolerably well informed in the science

of electioneering with the masses of the people. I was raised with

the people, and was literally one of them. We always acted together,

and our common instincts, feelings and interests were the same."

He here modestly ventured the opinion that his "efforts on the

stump, while _making no pretension to classic eloquence,_ yet

flowing naturally from the heart, supplied in them many defects."

A mite of self-approval, tinged with a philosophy which appears to

have been always kept on tap, closes this chapter of his remarkable

career. He says:

"I sincerely state that I never regarded as important the salary

of the office, but I entered public office with a sincere desire

to advance the best interest of the country, which was my main

reward. If a person would subdue his ambition for office and remain

a private citizen, he would be a more happy man."

That he must have been the most miserable of men, during the greater

part of his long life, clearly appears from the following: "There

is no person happy who is in public office, or a candidate for

office."

A more extensive field of usefulness now opened up to the Old Ranger

as he took his seat in Congress. He had many projects in mind for

the benefit of the people--one, the reduction of the price of

the public lands to actual settlers; another, the improvement of

our Western rivers. But like many other members both before and

since his day, he found that "these things were easier to talk

about on the stump than to do." He candidly admits: "This body was

much greater than I had supposed, and I could effect much less than

I had contemplated."

He informs us that he felt like a country boy just from home the

first time, as he entered the hall of the law-makers of the

great Republic. The city of Washington, grand and imposing,

impressed him deeply, but was as the dust in the balance to "the

assemblage of great men at the seat of Government of the United

States, and at the opening of Congress, when a grand and really

imposing spectacle was presented."

His profound admiration for some of his associates upon the broader

theatre of the public service found vent in the following eloquent

words:

"When the Roman Empire reached the highest pinnacle of literary

fame and political power in the reign of Augustus Caesar, the period

was called the Augustan age. There was a period that existed

eminently in the Jackson administration and a few years after that

might be called the Augustan age of Congress. So extraordinary

a constellation of great and distinguished individuals may never

again appear in office at the seat of government."

If apology were needed for the new members' exalted opinion of his

associates, it can readily be found in the fact that among them in

the House were John Quincy Adams, John Bell, Thomas F. Marshall,

Ben Hardin, James K. Polk, Millard Fillmore, and Franklin Pierce.

The first named had been President of the United States, and the

last three were yet to hold that great office. At the same time

"the constellation of great stars" that almost appalled the Illinois

member upon his introduction included, in the Senate, Crittenden, Wright,

Cass, Woodbury, Preston, Buchanan, Grundy, Benton, Clay, Calhoun, and

Webster.

On finally taking leave of Congress, our member congratulates

himself that during seven years of service he was absent from

his seat but a single day. That all his humble endeavors were

in the interest of the people, of course, goes without saying. He

deprecates in strong terms the extravagance of some members of

Congress in allowing their expenses to exceed their salaries,

and then leaving the capital in debt. That he did nothing of

the kind, but practised economy in all his expenses, it is

hardly necessary to state. He is not, however, entitled to a patent

for the discovery that "the expenses for living at the seat of

Government of the United States are heavy."

Being a widower, conditions were now favorable for a little romance

to be mingled with the dull cares of state. Near the close of his

last term, he says: "I became acquainted with a lady in the District

of Columbia, and we, in consideration of mutual love and affection,

married. The same tie binds us in matrimonial happiness to the

present time." He here admits a fact that might at this later day

subject him to Executive displeasure: "Posterity will have an

unsettled account against us for having _added nothing to the great

reservoir of the human family."_

It may be of interest to know that while in Congress our member

humbly accepted the appointment tendered him by Governor Carlin as

Commissioner to negotiate the Illinois and Michigan Canal bonds.

His earnest desire to have some one else appointed availed nothing,

and in the interest of the great enterprise, upon the success of

which the future of the State seemed to hang, he spent the summer of

1839 in Europe. While his mission abroad was fruitless as to

its immediate object, it is gratifying to know that our commissioner

returned duly impressed with "the immense superiority in every

possible manner of our own country, and all its glorious institutions,

over those of the monarchies of the old world."

It would be idle to suppose that the retirement of the Old Ranger from

Congress was to terminate his career of usefulness to the people.

On the contrary, he says: "In 1846, I was elected a member from

St. Clair County to the General Assembly of the State. The main

object of myself and friends was to obtain a charter for a macadamized

road from Belleville to the Mississippi River, opposite St. Louis."

This all satisfactorily accomplished, and the Legislature adjourned,

"I turned my time and attention to the calm and quiet of life.

With my choice library of one thousand volumes I indulged in the

study of science and literature. I soon discovered that the bustle

and turmoil of political life did not produce happiness."

Sad to relate, this faithful public servant, worn with the cares

of state, was not even yet permitted to lay aside his armor.

The happiness of private life, for which his soul yearned as the

hart panteth for the water brooks, was again postponed for the

hated bustle and turmoil of politics. In 1852, against his

remonstrances, he was again elected to the Legislature, and upon

the organization of the House unanimously chosen Speaker.

Reluctantly indeed, we now take leave of John Reynolds--the quaintest

of all the odd characters this country of ours has known. In doing

so, it is indeed a comfort to know that, true as the needle to the

pole, his great heart continued to beat in unison with that of the

people. Ascending the Speaker's stand, and lifting the gavel, with

deep emotion he said--and these are to us his last words: "I have

nothing to labor for but the public good. My life has been devoted

to promote the public interest of Illinois, and in my latter days it

will afford me profound pleasure to advance now, as I have always done

in the past, _the best interests of the people."_

XIII

THE MORMON EXODUS FROM ILLINOIS

DELEGATE CANNON AND SENATOR CANNON, MORMONS--SKETCH OF MORMONISM

BY GOVERNOR FORD--JOSEPH SMITH'S OWN ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN OF

HIS CHURCH--HOW "THE BOOK OF MORMON" WAS MADE--NAUVOO, "THE HOLY

CITY"--EFFORTS OF WHIGS AND DEMOCRATS TO WIN THE VOTES OF THE

MORMONS--VICTORY OF THE DEMOCRATS, AND CONSEQUENT ANTI-MORMONISM

OF THE WHIGS--JOSEPH SMITH'S PRETENSIONS TO ROYALTY--THE ORIGIN OF

POLYGAMY IN THE MORMON CHURCH--CONFLICT WITH THE STATE AUTHORITIES

--SURRENDER OF THE LEADERS--ASSASSINATION OF SMITH--BRIGHAM

YOUNG CHOSEN AS HIS SUCCESSOR--THE EXODUS BEGINS.

Just across the aisle from my seat in the House of Representatives

during the forty-sixth Congress sat George Q. Cannon, the delegate

from the Territory of Utah. He held this position for many years,

and possessed in the highest degree the confidence of the Mormon

people. Fifteen years later, when presiding over the Senate, I

administered the oath of office to his son, the Hon. Frank J.

Cannon, the first chosen to represent the State of Utah in the Upper

Chamber of the National Congress. Senator Cannon was then in high

favor with "the powers that be" in Salt Lake City, but for some

cause not well understood by the Gentile world, is now _persona

non grata_ with the head of the Mormon Church. The younger Cannon

was not a polygamist, and no objection was urged to his being seated

upon the presentation of his credentials as a Senator. His father,

the delegate, was in theory a polygamist, and had "the courage

of his convictions" to the extent of being the husband of five

wives, and the head of as many separate households. This,

before the days of "unfriendly legislation," was, in Mormon

parlance, called "living your religion."

The delegate and the Senator were both men of ability, and possessed

in large degree the respect of their associates. The former was

in early youth a resident of Illinois, and was of the advance guard

of the Mormon exodus to the valley of the Great Salt Lake soon

after the assassination of the "prophet." When I first visited

Salt Lake City, in 1879, George Q. Cannon, in addition to being

the delegate in Congress, was one of the "Quorum of the Twelve,"

and was in the line of succession to the presidency of the Church.

From him I learned much that was of interest concerning the history

and tenets of the Mormon people. The venerable John Taylor was

then the president of the Church, the immediate successor of Brigham

Young. He was in early life a resident with his people in Nauvoo,

Illinois, and was a prisoner in the Carthage jail with the "Prophet

Joseph" at the time of his assassination, in 1844. President Taylor

gave me a graphic description of that now historic tragedy, and of

his own narrow escape from the fate of his idolized leader.

A brief notice of this singular people, and of what they did and

suffered in Illinois, may not be wholly without interest. Mormonism

was the apple of discord in the State during almost the entire

official term of the late Governor Ford. More than one little army

was, during that period, sent into Hancock County--"the Mormon

country"--to suppress disturbances and maintain public order.

Governor Ford says:

"The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, as this organization

is denominated by its adherents, is to be viewed from the antagonistic

Gentile and Mormon standpoints.

"Joseph Smith, the founder of the Mormon Church and its prophet,

was born in Vermont, in 1805, of obscure parentage. His early

education was extremely limited. When he first began to act the

prophet, he was ignorant of almost everything which pertained to

science; but he made up in natural cunning for many deficiencies

of education. At the age of ten, he was taken by his father to

Wayne County, New York, where his youth was spent in an idle,

vagabond life, roaming the woods, dreaming of buried treasures,

and exerting himself to find them by the twisting of a forked stick

in his hands, or by looking through enchanted stones. He and

his father were 'water witchers,' always ready to point out the

exact points where wells could be successfully dug. While leading

an idle, profligate life, Joseph Smith became acquainted with Sidney

Rigdon, a man of talents and great plausibility. Rigdon was the

possessor of a religious romance written some years before by a

Presbyterian clergyman. The perusal of this book suggested to

Smith and Rigdon the idea of starting a new religion. By them a

story was accordingly devised to the effect that golden plates had

been found buried near Palmyra, New York, containing a record

inscribed on them in unknown characters, which, when deciphered by

the power of inspiration, gave the history of the ten lost tribes of

Israel in their wanderings through Asia into America, where they

had settled and flourished, and where, in due time, Christ came

and preached the Gospel to them, appointed his twelve Apostles,

and was crucified here, nearly in the same manner he had been in

Jerusalem. The record then pretended to give the history of the

American Christians for a few hundred years until the wickedness

of the people called down the judgment of God upon them, which

resulted in their extermination. Several nations from the Isthmus

of Darien to the northern extremity of the continent were engaged in

continual warfare. The culmination of all this was the battle

of Cumorah, fought many centuries ago near the present site of

Palmyra, between the Lamanites and the Nephites--the former being the

heathen and the latter the Christians of this continent. In

this battle, in which hundreds of thousands were slain, the Nephites

perished from the earth, except a remnant, who escaped to the

southern country. Among this number was Mormon, a righteous man

who was divinely directed to make a record of these important events

on plates of gold, and who buried them in the earth, to be

discovered in future times. 'The Book of Mormon'--none other than

the religious romance above mentioned--is the pretended translation

of the hieroglyphics said to have been inscribed on the golden

plates.

"The account given of himself by the 'prophet' is of far different

tenor from the one just given. While yet a youth he became greatly

concerned in regard to his soul's salvation; and being deeply

agonized in spirit, he sought divine guidance. While fervently

engaged in supplication, his mind was taken away from the surrounding

objects and enwrapped in a heavenly vision, and he saw two glorious

personages similar in form and features and surrounded with a

brilliant light, outshining the sun at noonday. He was then informed

by these glorious personages that all religious denominations were

in error, and were not acknowledged of God as His church and kingdom,

and that he, Joseph, was expressly commanded not to go after them.

At the same time, he received a promise that the fulness of the

Gospel should at some future time be known to him."

Subsequently, on the evening of September 23, 1823, at the hour of

six, while he was engaged in prayer, suddenly a light like that of

day, only far more pure and glorious, burst into the room, as though

the house were filled with fire, and a personage stood before

him surrounded with a glory far greater than he had yet seen. This

messenger proclaimed himself to be an angel of God, sent with

the joyful tidings that the covenant which God had made with ancient

Israel was about to be fulfilled; that the preparatory work for

the second coming of Messiah was speedily to commence; that the

time was at hand for the Gospel to be proclaimed in all its fulness

and power to all nations, to the end that a peculiar people might

be prepared for the millennial reign. He was further informed that

he, Joseph, was to be the instrument in God's hand to bring about this

glorious dispensation. The angel also informed him in regard to

the American Indians, who they were, and whence they came, with

a sketch of their origin, progress, civilization, righteousness,

and iniquity, and why the blessing of God had been withdrawn

from them as a people. He was also told where certain plates were

deposited, whereon were engraved the records of the ancient prophets,

who once existed on this continent. And then, to wit, on the last

day mentioned, the angel of the Lord delivered into his hands the

records mentioned, which were engraved on plates which had the

appearance of gold. They were filled with engravings in

Egyptian characters and bound together in a volume as the leaves

of a book; with the records was found a curious instrument which

the ancients called "Urim and Thummim," which consisted of two

transparent stones set in the rim of a bow fastened to a breastplate.

By the instrumentality of the Urim and Thummim, Joseph was enabled

to translate the hieroglyphics aforementioned.

Thus translated, the records mentioned became "The Book of Mormon."

The last of the ancient prophets had inscribed these records upon the

golden plates by the command of God, and deposited them in the

earth, where, fifteen centuries later, they were divinely revealed

to Joseph Smith.

It is not pretended that the golden plates are still in existence,

but that after being translated by Joseph Smith, by the aid of the

wonderful instrument mentioned, they were re-delivered to the angel.

The non-production of the plates thus satisfactorily explained,

and secondary evidence being admissible, eleven witnesses appeared

and testified to having actually seen the plates; three of the

number further declaring that they were present when Joseph received

the plates at the hands of the angel.

Upon my giving expression, to a high Mormon official, of some

lingering doubts as to the absolute authenticity of the above

narrative, I was significantly reminded of the words of the immortal

bard:

"Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,

Lest, to thy peril, thou aby it dear."

At all events, upon the pretended revelations mentioned, Joseph

Smith as "prophet" founded the Church of the Latter-Day Saints,

near Palmyra, New York, in 1830. Nor did he lack for followers.

The eleven witnesses mentioned, and others, were commissioned

and sent forth to proclaim the new gospel, and disciples in

large numbers soon flocked to the standard of the "prophet."

The history of delusions from the days of Mahomet to the present

time illustrates the eagerness with which men are ever ready to

seek out new inventions and to discard the old beliefs for the new.

There is no tenet so monstrous but in some breast it will find

lodgment.

"In religion

What damned error, but some sober brow

Will bless it and approve it with a text."

In 1833, Mormon colonies were established at Kirtland, Ohio, and

in Jackson County, Missouri, but, owing to Gentile persecution,

the "saints" at length shook the dust of those unhallowed localities

from their feet, and settled in large numbers in Hancock County,

Illinois. Here they built Nauvoo, the "Holy City," "the beautiful

habitation for man." The Mormon historian says: "The surrounding

lands were purchased by the saints, and a town laid out, which was

named 'Nauvoo' from the Hebrew, which signifies fair, very beautiful,

and it actually fills the definition of the words, for nature

has not formed a parallel anywhere on the banks of the Mississippi."

The sacred city, as it was called, soon contained a population

of fifteen thousand souls, gathered from all quarters of the globe.

Here were built the home of the prophet, the hall of the seventies,

a concert hall, and other public institutions. Chief among

these buildings was the Temple, described by the same historian as

"glistening in white limestone upon the hilltops, a shrine in

the wilderness whereat all the nations of the earth may worship,

whereat all the people may inquire of God and receive His holy

oracles."

This temple, erected at a cost of nearly a million dollars, was at

a later day visited by Governor Reynolds, and is thus described by

him:

"I was in the Mormon temple at Nauvoo. It was a large and splendid

edifice, built in the Egyptian style of architecture; and its

grandeur and magnificence truly astonished me. It was erected

on the top of the Mississippi bluff, which has a prospect which

reached as far as the eye could extend over the country and up and

down the river. The most singular appendage of this splendid

edifice was the font in which the immersion of the saints was

practised. It was composed of marble."

At the time of the Mormon emigration to Illinois, in 1839, the Whig

and Democratic parties in the State were in a heated struggle

for supremacy. The respective party leaders at once realized that

the new importation of voters might be the controlling political

factor in the State. To conciliate the Mormons and gain their

support soon became the aim of the politicians. This fact is

the keynote to the statement of Governor Ford:

"A city charter drawn up to suit the Mormons was presented to

the Legislature. No one opposed it, but both parties were active in

getting it through. This charter, and others passed in the same

manner, incorporated Nauvoo, provided for the election of a mayor,

four aldermen, and nine councillors, and gave them power to pass

all ordinances necessary for the benefit of the city which were

not repugnant to the Constitution. This seemed to give them power

to pass ordinances in violation of the laws of the State, and to

erect a system of government for themselves. This charter also

incorporated the Nauvoo Legion,--entirely independent of the military

organization of the State, and not subject to the commands of

its officers. Provision was also made for a court-martial for the

Legion, to be composed of its own officers; and in the exercise of

their duties they were not bound to regard the laws of the State.

Thus it was proposed to establish for the Mormons a Government

within a Government, a Legislature with power to pass ordinances

at war with the laws of the State. These charters were unheard

of, anti-republican and capable of infinite abuse. The great law of

the separation of the powers of government was wholly disregarded.

The mayor was at once the executive power, the judiciary, and part

of the Legislature. One would have thought that these charters

stood a poor chance of passing the Legislature of a republican

people, jealous of their liberties, nevertheless they did pass both

Houses unanimously. Each party was afraid to object to them,

for fear of losing the Mormon vote."

Some indications of the hopes and fears of party leaders may be

gleaned from the statement of the politic John Reynolds, then a

representative in Congress. He thus speaks of the visit of Joseph

Smith to the national capital:

"I had recently received letters that Smith was a very important

character in Illinois, and to give him the civilities that were

due him. He stood at the time fair and honorable, except his

fanaticism on religion. The sympathies of the people were in

his favor. It fell to my lot to introduce him to the President,

and one morning the Prophet Smith and I called at the White House to

see the chief magistrate. When we were about to enter the apartments

of President Van Buren, the prophet asked me to introduce him as

a Latter-day Saint. It was so unexpected and so strange to me that

I could scarcely believe he would urge such nonsense on this occasion

to the President. But he repeated the request, and I introduced

him as a Latter-day Saint, which made the President smile. The

Prophet remained in Washington a greater part of the winter, and

preached often. I became well acquainted with him. He was a person

rather larger than ordinary stature, well proportioned, and

would weigh about one hundred and eighty pounds. He was rather

fleshy, but was in his appearance, amiable and benevolent. He did

not appear to possess barbarity in his nature, nor to possess that

great talent and boundless mind that would enable him to accomplish

the wonders he performed."

Referring again to the narrative of Ford:

"Joseph Smith was duly installed Mayor of Nauvoo--this _Imperium

in Imperio_--he was _ex-officio_ Judge of the Mayor's court, and

Chief Justice of the Municipal court; and in this capacity he was to

interpret the laws he had assisted to make. The Nauvoo Legion was

organized with a multitude of high officers. It was divided

into divisions, brigades, cohorts, battalions, and companies;

and Joseph Smith as Lieutenant-General was the Commander-in-Chief.

The common council of Nauvoo passed many ordinances for the punishment

of crime. The punishment was generally different from, and much

more severe than, that provided by the laws of the State."

That any Legislature would ever, under any stress of circumstances,

have conferred--or have attempted to confer--such powers upon a

municipality is beyond comprehension. The statement, if unsustained

by the official State records, would now challenge belief.

Under the favorable conditions mentioned, the Mormons were now upon

the high wave of prosperity in Illinois. Their number had increased

to more than twenty thousand in Hancock and the counties adjoining.

The owners of large tracts of valuable land, protected by legislation

that finds no parallel in any State, courted by the leaders of both

parties, and actually holding for a time the balance of political power

in the State--they seemed indeed to be "the chosen people," as

claimed by their prophet.

It needed no prophet, however, to foretell that this could not long

continue. The Mormon leaders failed to realize that to champion

the cause of either party would of necessity arouse the fierce

hostility of the other, as in very truth it did. Politics, the

prime cause of fortune's favors to them in the beginning, proved

their undoing in the end.

Joseph Smith had, soon after his removal from Missouri, been arrested

upon a requisition from the Governor of that State. From this

arrest he was discharged when brought upon a writ of _habeas corpus_

before Judge Pope, a Whig. The ground of the decision was, that

as Smith was not in Missouri at the time of the attempt upon the

life of Governor Boggs, and that whatever he did--if he did anything

--to aid or encourage the attempt, was done in Illinois, and not

within the jurisdiction of Missouri laws, he was not a fugitive

from justice within the provision of the Constitution of the United

States. The decision excited much comment at the time, but, as

stated by Judge Blodgett, it "has borne the test of criticism, and

is now the accepted rule of law in interstate extradition cases."

This for a time inclined the Mormons to the support of the Whig

party. Again arrested, the prophet, under similar proceedings,

was discharged by a Democratic Judge. This, as Governor Ford says,

"Induced Smith to issue a proclamation to his followers declaring Judge

Douglas to be a master spirit, and exhorting them to vote for

the Democratic ticket for Governor. Smith was too ignorant to know

whether he owed his discharge to the law or to party favor. Such was

the ignorance of the Mormons generally, that they thought anything

to be law which they thought expedient. All action of the Government

unfavorable to them they looked upon as wantonly oppressive, and

when the law was administered in their favor they attributed it to

partiality and kindness."

The last hope of the Whigs for Mormon support was abandoned in

1843. In the district of which Hancock County was a part, the

opposing candidates for Congress were Joseph P. Hoge, Democrat,

and Cyrus Walker, Whig, both lawyers of distinction. The latter

had been counsel for Smith in the Habeas Corpus proceedings last

mentioned. Grateful for the services then rendered, Smith

openly espoused the candidacy of Walker in the pending contest.

That there were tricks in politics even more than sixty years ago,

will now appear. One Backinstos, a politician of Hancock County,

declared upon his return from the State capital that he had assurances

from the Governor that the Mormons would be amply protected as long

as they voted the Democratic ticket. It is hardly necessary to

say that the Governor denied having given any such assurance.

However, the campaign lie of Backinstos, like many of its kind

before and since, proved a "good enough Morgan till after the

election." This, it will be remembered, was before the days of

railroads and telegraphs, and the Mormon settlement was far remote

from the seat of government. A partisan jumble, in which the

"saints" were the participants, and the low arts of the demagogues

and pretended revelations from God the chief ingredients, is

thus described by the historian just quoted:

"The mission of Backinstos produced an entire change in the minds of

the Mormon leaders. They now resolved to drop their friend Walker

and take up Hoge, the Democratic candidate. A great meeting of

several thousand Mormons was held the Saturday before the election.

Hiram Smith, patriarch and brother of the prophet, appeared in this

assembly and there solemnly announced to the people, that God

had revealed to him that the Mormons must support Mr. Hoge. William

Law, another leader, next appeared and denied that the Lord had

made any such revelation. He stated that to his certain knowledge

the prophet Joseph was in favor of Mr. Walker, and that the prophet

was more likely to know the mind of the Lord than the patriarch.

Hiram again repeated his revelation, with a greater tone of authority,

but the people remained in doubt until the next day, Sunday, when the

prophet Joseph himself appeared before the assemblage. He there

stated that he himself was in favor of Mr. Walker and intended

to vote for him; that he would not, if he could, influence any man

in giving his vote; that he considered it a mean business for

any man to dictate to the people whom they should vote for; that

he had heard his brother Hiram had received a revelation from

the Lord on the subject; but for his own part, he did not much

believe in revelations on the subject of election. Brother Hiram was,

however, a man of truth; he had known him intimately ever since he

was a boy, and he had never known him to tell a lie. If brother

Hiram said he had received a revelation he had no doubt he had.

When the Lord speaks let all the earth be silent."