Every man is to a certain extent the victim of his occupation; and the

formalities of the Senate were ever tightening their grasp on Sumner's

mode of life. One afternoon, as he was leaving Dr. Howe's garden at South

Boston, the doctor's youngest daughter ran out from the house, and called

to him, "Good-bye, Mr. Sumner." His back was already turned, but he faced

about like an officer on parade, and said with formal gravity: "Good

evening, child," so that Mrs. Howe could not avoid laughing at him. Yet

Sumner was fond of children in his youth. L. Maria Child heard of this

incident and made good use of it in one of her story-books.

The grand fact in Sumner's character, however, rests beyond dispute that

he never aspired to the Presidency. That lingering Washington malady

which victimized Clay, Webster, Calhoun, Seward, Chase, Sherman, and

Blaine, and made them appear almost like sinners in torment, never

attacked Sumner. He had accepted office as a patriotic duty, and, like

Washington, he was ready to resign it whenever his work would be done.

Sumner's speech on the barbarism of slavery, timed as it was to meet the

Baltimore convention, was evidently intended to drive a wedge into the

split between the Northern and Southern Democrats, but it also must have

encouraged the secession movement. Sumner, however, can hardly be blamed

for this, after the indignity he had suffered. That a high member of the

Government could have been assaulted with impunity in open day indicated

a condition of affairs in the United States not unlike that of France at

the time when Count Toliendal was judicially murdered by Louis XV.

Washington City was an oligarchical despotism.

A dark cloud hung over the Republic during the winter of 1860-'61. The

impending danger was that war would break out before Lincoln could be

inaugurated. Such secrecy was observed by the Republican leaders that

even Horace Greeley could not fathom their intentions. Late in December

John A. Andrew and George L. Stearns went to Washington to survey the

ground for themselves, and the latter wrote to William Robinson, "The

watchword is, _keep quiet_." He probably obtained this from Sumner,

and it gives the key to the whole situation.

It demolishes Von Hoist's finely-spun melodramatic theory in regard to

that period of our history, in which he finally compares the condition of

the United States to a drowning man who sees lurid flames before his

eyes. In the Republican and Union parties there were all shades of

compromise sentiment,--from those who were ready to sacrifice anything in

order to prevent secession, to Abraham Lincoln, who was only willing to

surrender the barren and unpopulated State of New Mexico to the

slaveholders. [Footnote: A not unreasonable proposition.] But Sumner,

Wade, Trumbull, Wilson, and King stood together like a rocky coast

against which the successive waves of compromise dashed without effect.

Von Hoist was notified of this fact years before the last volume of his

history was published, but he disregarded it evidently because it

interfered with his favorite theory.

The last of January, however, a report was circulated in Boston that

Sumner had joined the compromisers for the sake of consistency with the

peace principles which he had advocated in his Fourth of July oration.

Boston newspapers made the most of this, although it did not seem likely

to Sumner's friends, and George L. Stearns finally wrote to him for

permission to make a denial of it. Sumner first replied to him by

telegraph saying: "I am against sending commissioners to treat of

surrender by the North. Stand firm." Then he wrote him this memorable

letter.

WASHINGTON, 3d Feb., '61.

My Dear Sir:

There are but few who stand rooted, like the oak, against a storm. This

is the nature of man. Let us be patient.

My special trust is this: _No possible compromise or concession will be

of the least avail._ Events are hastening which will supersede all

such things. This will save us. But I like to see Mass. in this breaking

up of the Union ever true. God keep her from playing the part of Judas

or--of Peter! You may all bend or cry pardon--I will not. Here I am, and

I mean to stand firm to the last. God bless you!

Ever yours,

CHARLES SUMNER.

The handwriting of this letter is magnificent. Sumner had a strongly

characteristic hand with something of artistic grace in it, too; but in

this instance his writing seems like the external expression of the mood

he was in when he wrote the letter.

The question may be asked, Why then did not Sumner rise in the Senate and

make one of his telling speeches against compromise during that long,

wearisome session? I think the answer will be found in the watchword:

"Keep quiet!" He perfectly understood the game that Seward was playing

and he was too wise to interfere with it. Seward was the cat and

compromise was the mouse. Whatever mistakes he may have afterwards made,

Seward at this time showed a master hand. He encouraged compromise, but

he must have been aware that the proposed constitutional amendment, which

would forever have prevented legislation against slavery, would not have

been confirmed by the Northern States. He could easily count the

legislatures that would reject it. It finally passed through Congress on

the last night of this session by a single vote, and was ratified by only

three States!

As soon as Lincoln was inaugurated there was no more talk of compromise,

and Seward was firmness itself. He declined to receive the disunion

commissioners; [Footnote: At the same time he coquetted with them

unofficially.] he compelled the Secretary of War to reinforce Fort

Pickens; he overhauled General Scott, who proved an impediment to

vigorous military operations. These facts tell their own tale.

After Seward and Chase had left the Senate Sumner was _facile

princeps_. Trumbull was a vigorous orator and a rough-rider in debate,

but he did not possess the store of legal knowledge and the vast fund of

general information which Sumner could draw from. One has to read the

fourth volume of Pierce's biography to realize the dimensions of Sumner's

work during the period from 1861 to 1869. Military affairs he never

interfered with, but he was Chairman of the Committee on Foreign Affairs,

the most important in the Senate, and in the direction of home politics

he was second to none. No other voice was heard so often in the

legislative halls at Washington, and none heard with more respect. A list

of the bills that he introduced and carried through would fill a long

column.

The test of statesmanship is to change from the opposition to the

leadership in a Government,--from critical to constructive politics. Carl

Schurz was a fine orator and an effective speaker on the minority side,

but he commenced life as a revolutionist and always remained one. If he

had once attempted to introduce legislation, he would have shown his

weakness, exactly where Sumner proved his strength. Froude says that to

be great in politics "is to recognize a popular movement, and to have the

courage and address to lead it"; but three times Sumner planted his

standard away in advance of his party, and stood by it alone until his

followers came up to him.

He was always in advance of his party, but conspicuously so in regard to

the abolition of slavery, the exposure of Andrew Johnson's perfidy, and

the reconstruction of the rebellious States. We might add the annexation

of San Domingo as a fourth; for I believe there are few thinking persons

at present who do not feel grateful to him for having saved the country

from that uncomfortable acquisition.

The bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia was introduced by

Wilson. Sumner did not like to be always proposing anti-slavery measures

himself, and he wished Wilson to have the honor of it. Wilson would not,

of course, have introduced the measure without consulting his colleague.

Lincoln evidently desired to enjoy the sole honor of issuing the

Emancipation Proclamation of 1862, and he deserved to have it; but Sumner

thought it might safely have been done after the battles of Fort

Donaldson and Shiloh, and the victories of Foote and Farragut on the

Mississippi, six months before it was issued; and he urged to have it

done at that time. Whether his judgment was correct in this, it is

impossible to decide.

Early in July, 1862, he introduced a bill in the Senate for the

organization of the "contrabands" and other negroes into regiments,--a

policy suggested by Hamilton in 1780,--and no one can read President

Lincoln's Message to Congress in December, 1864, without recognizing that

it was only with the assistance of negro troops that the Union was

finally preserved.

In spite of the continued differences between Sumner and Seward on

American questions they worked together like one man in regard to foreign

politics. Sumner's experience in Europe and his knowledge of public men

there was much more extensive than Seward's, and in this line he was of

invaluable assistance to the Secretary of State.

Lowell could make a holiday of six years at the Court of St. James, but

during the war it was a serious matter to be Minister to England. In the

summer of 1863 affairs there had reached a climax. The _Alabama_ and

_Florida_ were scaring all American ships from the ocean, and five

ironclad rams, built for the confederate government, were nearly ready to

put to sea from English ports. If this should happen it seemed likely

that they would succeed in raising the blockade. As a final resort

Lincoln and Seward sent word to Adams to threaten the British Government

with war unless the rams were detained.

Meanwhile it was necessary to brace up the American people to meet the

possible emergency. On September 10 Sumner addressed an audience of three

thousand persons in Cooper Institute, New York, for three hours on the

foreign relations of the United States; and there were few who left the

hall before it was finished. He arraigned the British Government for its

inconsistency, its violation of international law, and its disregard of

the rights of navigators. It was not only a heroic effort, but a self-

sacrificing one; for Sumner knew that it would separate him forever from

the larger number of his English friends.

At the same time Minister Adams had an equally difficult task before him.

War with England seemed to be imminent. He held a long consultation with

Benjamin Moran, the Secretary of Legation, and they finally concluded to

see if an opinion could be obtained on the confederate rams from an

English legal authority. They went to Sir Robert Colyer, one of the lords

of the admiralty, and asked him if he was willing to give them an

opinion. He replied that he considered the law above politics, and that

he wished to do what was right. After investigating the subject Colyer

made a written statement to the effect that the United States was wholly

justified in demanding detention of the rams. Adams then placed this

opinion together with Lincoln's notification before the British Cabinet,

but the papers were returned to him with a refusal of compliance. "There

is nothing now," said Adams to Moran, "but for us to pack up and go

home"; but Moran replied, "Let us wait a little; while there is life

there is hope"; and the same evening Adams was notified that Her

Majesty's Government still had the subject under consideration. The rams

proved a dead loss.

When Benjamin Moran related this incident to the Philadelphia Hock Club

after his return, he added: "We owe it to our Irish-American citizens as

much as to the monitors that we did not suffer from English

interference."

Seward, and also Chase, wished to issue letters of reprisal to privateers

to go in search of the _Alabama_, but Sumner opposed this in an able

speech on the importance of maintaining a high standard of procedure for

the good reputation of the country; and he carried his point.

Sumner's greatest parliamentary feat was occasioned by Trumbull's

introduction of a bill for the reconstruction of Louisiana in the winter

of 1864. There were only ten thousand loyal white voters in the State;

and nothing could be more imprudent or prejudicial than such a hasty

attempt at reorganization of the rebellious South, before the war was

fairly ended. It was like a man building an annex to one side of his

house while the other side was on fire; yet it was known to be supported

by Seward, and, as was alleged, also by Lincoln. It was thrust upon

Congress at the last moment, evidently in order to prevent an extended

debate, and Sumner turned this to his own advantage. For two days and

nights his voice resounded through the Senate chamber, until, with the

assistance of his faithful allies, Wade and Wilson, he succeeded in

preventing the bill from being brought to a vote. It was an extreme

instance of human endurance, without parallel before or since, and may

possibly have shortened Sumner's life. Five weeks later President

Lincoln, in his last speech, made the significant proposition of

universal amnesty combined with universal suffrage. Would that he could

have lived to see the completion of his work!

Something may be said here of Sumner's influence with Mrs. Lincoln. If

Don Piatt is to be trusted, Mrs. Lincoln came to Washington with a

strong feeling of antipathy towards Seward and "those eastern

abolitionists." She was born in a slave state and had remained pro-

slavery,--a fact which did not trouble her husband because he did not

allow it to trouble him. Fifteen months in Washington brought a decided

change in her opinions, and Sumner would seem to have been instrumental

in this conversion. It is well known that she preferred his society to

that of others. She had studied French somewhat, and he encouraged her to

talk it with him,--which was looked upon, of course, as an affectation on

both sides.

At the time of General McClellan's removal, October, 1862, Mrs. Lincoln

was at the Parker House in Boston. Sumner called on her in the forenoon,

and she said at once: "I suppose you have heard the news, and that you

are glad of it. So am I. Mr. Lincoln told me he expected to remove him

before I left Washington."

Sumner resembled Charles XII. of Sweden in this: there is no evidence

that he ever was in love. His devotion to the law in early life,

surrounded as he was by interesting friends, may have been antagonistic

to matrimony. The woman he ought to have married was the noble daughter

of his old friend, Cornelius Felton, whom he often met, but whose worth

he never recognized. The marriage which he contracted late in life was

not based on enduring principles, and soon came to a grievous end. It was

more like the marriages that princes make than a true republican

courtship. Sumner apparently wanted a handsome wife to preside at his

dinner parties in Washington, but he chose her from among his opponents

instead of from among his friends.

Since there has been much foolish talk upon this subject, it may be well

to state here that the true difficulty between Mr. and Mrs. Sumner was

owing to the company which he invited to his house. She only wished to

entertain fashionable people, but a large proportion of Sumner's friends

could not be included within these narrow limits. As Senator from

Massachusetts that would not do for him at all. This is the explanation

that was given by Mrs. Sumner's brother, and it is without doubt the

correct one; but women in such cases are apt to allege something

different from the true reason.

Sumner's most signal triumph happened on the occasion of President

Johnson's first Message to Congress in January, 1865. He rose from his

seat and characterized it as a "whitewashing document." That day he stood

alone, yet within six weeks every Republican Senator was at his side.

Sumner knew how to be silent as well as to talk. On one occasion he was

making a speech in the Senate when he suddenly heard Schuyler Colfax

behind him saying, "This is all very good, Sumner, but here I have the

Appropriation bills from the House, and the Democrats know nothing about

them." Sumner instantly resumed his seat, and the bills were acted on

without serious opposition. He would sometimes sit through a dinner at

the Bird Club without saying very much, but if he once started on a

subject that interested him there was no limit to it.

Sumner's speech on the "Alabama claims" was considered a failure because

the administration did not afterwards support him; and it is true that no

government would submit to a demand for adventitious damages so long as

it could prevent this; but it was a far-reaching exposure of an

unprincipled foreign policy, and this speech formed the groundwork for

the Treaty of Washington and the Geneva arbitration. It was a more

important case than the settlement of the Northeastern boundary.

Sumner died the death of a hero. The administration of General Grant

might well be called the recoil of the cannon: it was the reactionary

effect of a great military movement on civil affairs. Sumner alone

withstood the shock of it, and he fought against it for four years like a

veteran on his last line of defence, feeling victory was no longer

possible. Many of his friends found the current too strong for them; his

own party deserted him; even the Legislature of his own State turned

against him in a senseless and irrational manner. Still his spirit was

unconquerable, and he continued to face the storm as long as life was in

him. It was a magnificent spectacle.

It was the last battlefield of a veteran warrior, and although Sumner

retired from it with a mortal wound, he had the satisfaction of winning a

glorious victory. No end could have been more appropriate to such a life.

_Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori._

Since Richard Coeur de Leon forgave Bertram de Gordon, who caused his

death, there has never been a more magnanimous man than Charles Sumner.

Once when L. Maria Child was anathematizing Preston S. Brooks in his

presence, he said: "You should not blame him. It was slavery and not

Brooks that struck me. If Brooks had been born and brought up in New

England, he would no more have done the thing he did than Caleb Cushing

would have done it,"--Cushing always being his type of a pro-slavery

Yankee.

In 1871 Charles W. Slack, the editor of the Boston _Commonwealth_,

for whom Sumner had obtained a lucrative office, turned against his

benefactor in order to save his position. When I spoke of this to Sumner,

he said: "Well, it is human nature. Slack is growing old, and if he keeps

his office for the next six years, he will have a competency. I have no

doubt he feels grateful to me, and regrets the course he is taking." At

the same time, he spoke sadly.

Sumner resembled Lord Chatham more closely than any statesman of the

nineteenth century. He carried his measures through by pure force of

argument and clearness of foresight. From 1854 to 1874 it was his policy

that prevailed in the councils of the nation. He succeeded where others

failed.

He defeated Franklin Pierce, Seward, Trumbull, Andrew Johnson, Hamilton

Fish, and even Lincoln, on the extradition of Mason and Slidell. He tied

Johnson down, so that he could only move his tongue.

In considering Sumner's oratory, we should bear in mind what Coleridge

said to Allston, the painter,--"never judge a work of art by its

defects." His sentences have not the classic purity of Webster's, and his

delivery lacked the ease and elegance of Phillips and Everett. His style

was often too florid and his Latin quotations, though excellent in

themselves, were not suited to the taste of his audiences. But Sumner was

always strong and effective, and that is, after all, the main point. Like

Webster he possessed a logical mind, and the profound earnestness of his

nature gave an equally profound conviction to his words. Besides this,

Sumner possessed the heroic element, as Patrick Henry and James Otis

possessed it. After Webster's death there was no American speaker who

could hold an audience like him.

Matthew Arnold, in his better days, said that Burke's oratory was too

rich and overloaded. This is true, but it is equally true that Burke is

the only orator of the eighteenth century that still continues to be

read. He had a faulty delivery and an ungainly figure, but if he emptied

the benches in the House of Commons he secured a larger audience in

coming generations. The material of his speeches is of such a vital

quality that it possesses a value wholly apart from the time and occasion

of its delivery.

Much the same is true of Sumner, who would have had decidedly the

advantage of Burke so far as personal impressiveness is concerned. His

Phi Beta Kappa address of 1845 is so rich in material that it is even

more interesting to read now than when it was first delivered, and his

remarks on Allston in that oration might be considered to advantage by

every art critic in the country. It should always be remembered that a

speech, like a play, is written not to be read, but to be acted; and

those discourses which read so finely in the newspapers are not commonly

the ones that sounded the best when they were delivered.

Great men create great antagonisms. The antagonism which Lincoln excited

was concentrated in Booth's pistol shot, and the Montagues and Capulets

became reconciled over his bier; but the antagonism against Sumner still

continues to smoke and smoulder like the embers of a dying conflagration.

CHEVALIER HOWE.

The finest modern statue in Berlin is that of General Ziethen, the great

Hussar commander in the Seven Years' War. [Footnote: Von Schlater's

statue of the Great Elector is of course a more magnificent work of art.]

He stands leaning on his sabre in a dreamy, nonchalant attitude, as if he

were in the centre of indifference and life had little interest for him.

Yet there never was a man more ready for action, or more quick to seize

upon and solve the _nodus_ of any new emergency. The Prussian

anecdote-books are full of his exploits and hairbreadth escapes, a number

of which are represented around the base of the statue. He combined the

intelligence of the skilful general with the physical dexterity of an

acrobat.

Very much such a man was Samuel Gridley Howe, born in Boston November 10,

1801, whom Whittier has taken as the archetype of an American hero in his

tune.

If a transient guest at the Bird Club should have seen Doctor Howe

sitting at the table with his indifferent, nonchalant air, head leaning

slightly forward and his grayish-black hair almost falling into his eyes,

he would never have imagined that he was the man who had fought the Turks

hand-to-hand like Cervantes and Sir John Smith; who had been imprisoned

in a Prussian dungeon; who had risked his life in the July Revolution at

Paris; and who had taken the lead in an equally important philanthropic

revolution in his own country.

Next to Sumner he is the most distinguished member of the club, even more

so than Andrew and Wilson; a man with a most enviable record. He does not

talk much where many are gathered together, but if he hears an imprudent

statement, especially an unjust estimate of character, his eyes flash out

from beneath the bushy brows, and he makes a correction which just hits

the nail on the head. He is fond of his own home and is with difficulty

enticed away from it. Once in awhile he will dash out to Cambridge on

horseback to see Longfellow, but the lion-huntresses of Boston spread

their nets in vain for him. He will not even go to the dinner parties for

which Mrs. Howe is in constant demand, but prefers to spend the evening

with his children, helping them about their school lessons, and listening

to the stories of their everyday experiences.

Cambridge Sketches · 第 10 / 19 段