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