My Memories of Eighty Years [133]
Wilson, of Massachusetts, afterwards vice-president, was in great demand. He was clear in his historical statements and emphatic in his expression of views. If he had any apprehension of humor he never showed it in his speeches. His career had been very picturesque from unskilled laborer to the Senate and the vice-presidency. The impression he gave was of an example of American opportunity, and he was more impressive and influential by his personality and history than by what he said.
One of the most picturesque and popular stump speakers was Daniel S. Dickinson. He had been a United States senator and party leader, and was a national figure. His venerable appearance gave force to his oratory. He seemed to be of great age, but was remarkably vigorous. His speeches were made up of epigrams which were quotable and effective. He jumped rapidly from argument to anecdote and was vitriolic in attack.
I had an interesting experience with Mr. Dickinson when running for secretary of state in 1863. The drawing card for that year, and the most sought-after and popular for campaign speaking, was Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts. He had a series of appointments in New York State, but on account of some emergency cancelled them all. The national and State committees selected me to fill his appointments. The most unsatisfactory and disagreeable job in the world is to meet the appointments of a popular speaker. The expectations of the audience have been aroused to a degree by propaganda advertising the genius and accomplishments of the expected speaker. The substitute cannot meet those expectations, and an angry crowd holds him responsible for their disappointment.
When I left the train at the station I was in the midst of a mass-meeting of several counties at Deposit, N. Y. A large committee, profusely decorated with campaign badges, were on the platform to welcome the distinguished war governor of Massachusetts. I did not meet physically their expectations of an impressive statesman of dignified presence, wearing a Prince Albert suit and a top hat. I had been long campaigning, my soft hat was disreputable, and I had added a large shawl to my campaigning equipment. Besides that, I was only twenty-eight and looked much younger. The committee expected at least sixty. Finally the chairman rushed up to me and said: "You were on the train. Did you see Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts?" I answered him: "Governor Andrew is not coming; he has cancelled all his engagements, and I have been sent to take his place." The chairman gasped and then exclaimed: "My God!" He very excitedly summoned his fellow members of the committee and said to them: "Gentlemen, Governor Andrew is not coming, but the State committee has sent THIS," pointing to me. I was the party candidate as secretary of state, and at the head of the ticket, but nobody asked me who I was, nor did I tell them. I was left severely alone.
Some time after, the chairman of the committee came to me and said: "Young fellow, we won't be hard on you, but the State committee has done this once before. We were promised a very popular speaker well known among us, but in his place they sent the damnedest fool who ever stood before an audience. However, we have sent to Binghamton for Daniel S. Dickinson, and he will be here in a short time and save our big mass-meeting."
Mr. Dickinson came and delivered a typical speech; every sentence was a bombshell and its explosion very effective. He had the privilege of age, and told a story which I would not have dared to tell, the audience being half women. He said: "Those constitutional lawyers, who are proclaiming that all Mr. Lincoln's acts are unconstitutional, don't know any law. They remind me of a doctor we have up in Binghamton, who has a large practice because of his fine appearance, his big words, and gold-headed cane. He was called to see a young lad who was sitting on his grandmother's lap. After looking at the boy's tongue and feeling his pulse, he rested his head in deep thought for a while
One of the most picturesque and popular stump speakers was Daniel S. Dickinson. He had been a United States senator and party leader, and was a national figure. His venerable appearance gave force to his oratory. He seemed to be of great age, but was remarkably vigorous. His speeches were made up of epigrams which were quotable and effective. He jumped rapidly from argument to anecdote and was vitriolic in attack.
I had an interesting experience with Mr. Dickinson when running for secretary of state in 1863. The drawing card for that year, and the most sought-after and popular for campaign speaking, was Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts. He had a series of appointments in New York State, but on account of some emergency cancelled them all. The national and State committees selected me to fill his appointments. The most unsatisfactory and disagreeable job in the world is to meet the appointments of a popular speaker. The expectations of the audience have been aroused to a degree by propaganda advertising the genius and accomplishments of the expected speaker. The substitute cannot meet those expectations, and an angry crowd holds him responsible for their disappointment.
When I left the train at the station I was in the midst of a mass-meeting of several counties at Deposit, N. Y. A large committee, profusely decorated with campaign badges, were on the platform to welcome the distinguished war governor of Massachusetts. I did not meet physically their expectations of an impressive statesman of dignified presence, wearing a Prince Albert suit and a top hat. I had been long campaigning, my soft hat was disreputable, and I had added a large shawl to my campaigning equipment. Besides that, I was only twenty-eight and looked much younger. The committee expected at least sixty. Finally the chairman rushed up to me and said: "You were on the train. Did you see Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts?" I answered him: "Governor Andrew is not coming; he has cancelled all his engagements, and I have been sent to take his place." The chairman gasped and then exclaimed: "My God!" He very excitedly summoned his fellow members of the committee and said to them: "Gentlemen, Governor Andrew is not coming, but the State committee has sent THIS," pointing to me. I was the party candidate as secretary of state, and at the head of the ticket, but nobody asked me who I was, nor did I tell them. I was left severely alone.
Some time after, the chairman of the committee came to me and said: "Young fellow, we won't be hard on you, but the State committee has done this once before. We were promised a very popular speaker well known among us, but in his place they sent the damnedest fool who ever stood before an audience. However, we have sent to Binghamton for Daniel S. Dickinson, and he will be here in a short time and save our big mass-meeting."
Mr. Dickinson came and delivered a typical speech; every sentence was a bombshell and its explosion very effective. He had the privilege of age, and told a story which I would not have dared to tell, the audience being half women. He said: "Those constitutional lawyers, who are proclaiming that all Mr. Lincoln's acts are unconstitutional, don't know any law. They remind me of a doctor we have up in Binghamton, who has a large practice because of his fine appearance, his big words, and gold-headed cane. He was called to see a young lad who was sitting on his grandmother's lap. After looking at the boy's tongue and feeling his pulse, he rested his head in deep thought for a while