Ulysses S. Grant – The Intelligent Collector Magazine

For 40 years, Horace Greeley was the busiest, boldest editor in America

This Horace Greeley 1872 campaign banner with albumen photo and gold-leaf trim sold for $40,000 at a December 2016 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

“Go West, young man, go west and grow up with the country.”

This widely known quote is directly associated with the concept of Manifest Destiny, as Americans inexorably expanded from being huddled along the Atlantic Ocean, across a vast continent, to the shores of the magnificent Pacific Ocean. What is less agreed is the source of this exuberant exhortation. A vast majority attribute it to a man who could easily be crowned the Nation’s Newsman: Horace Greeley. However, there is no definitive evidence in any of his prolific writing or plethora of speeches.

By 1831, a young (age 20) Horace Greeley arrived in New York, devoid of most things, especially money, except for a burning desire to exploit his skills as a journeyman printer. The following year, his reputation was rapidly expanding, having set up a press to publish his modest first newspaper. At 23, he had a literary weekly and a relationship with the great James Gordon Bennett, founder of the New York Herald. The future beckoned the aspiring writer-orator to bring his encyclopedic skills to the masses in new and exciting ways.

Inevitably, using borrowed money, he started the New-York Tribune, publishing the first issue on April 10, 1841. Perhaps by coincidence or divine intervention, this was the same day New York City hosted a parade in honor of recently deceased President William Henry Harrison (“Tippecanoe and Tyler Too”), who had died on April 4. Harrison, the ninth president, had only served from March 4, the shortest tenure of any U.S. president.

The 68-year-old William Henry Harrison was the oldest president to be inaugurated until Ronald Reagan was elected in 1980 at age 69 (both were young compared to the current president and president-elect). In this situation, Harrison had given a lengthy two-hour inaugural address (8,445 words – even after Daniel Webster had edited out almost half), opted not to wear a coat to demonstrate his strength, caught pneumonia and died four weeks later. His wife Anna was at home also sick and, in a first, Congress awarded her a pension – a one-time payment of $25,000 equal to the president’s salary. Their grandson – Benjamin Harrison – would become the 23rd president in 1889.

The new Greeley newspaper was a mass-circulation publication with a distinctive tone reflecting Greeley’s personal emphasis on civic rectitude and moral persuasion. Despite the challenging competition of 47 other newspapers – 11 of them dailies – the Tribune was a spectacular success. Greeley quickly became the most influential newspaperman of his time. From his pen flowed a torrent of articles, essays and books. From his mouth an almost equal amount. In the process, he revolutionized the conception of newspapers in form and content, literally creating modern journalism.

Then with the advent of steam-powered printing presses and a precipitous drop in prices from 6 cents to a penny, more people were clamoring for more news. The common man, ever eager for more information in any category, began to read about the financial markets and almost everything about everyone.

Greeley was intensely interested in Western emigration and encouraged others to take advantage of the opportunities he envisioned. “I hold that tens of thousands, who are now barely holding on at the East, might thus place themselves on the high road to competence and ultimate independence at the West.” Curiously, he made only one trip west, going to Colorado in 1859 during the Pike’s Peak Gold Rush, joining an estimated 100,000 gold-seekers in one of the greatest rushes in the history of North America. The participants, logically dubbed the “Fifty-Niners,” found enough gold and silver to compel Congress to authorize a Mint in 1862. The new Denver mint was opened in 1906.

Greeley developed a large group of followers who found in his raw eloquence and political fervor a refreshing perspective that fueled their appetite for more. For 40 years, Greeley was the busiest and boldest editor in America. Both men and women were attracted to his fiery perspective and guidance in all the great issues of the time. He spared no one, suffered no favorites and seemed to never let the nation or himself rest.

After becoming the first president of the New York Printers’ Union, he led the fight for distribution of public land to the needy and poor. He was a fierce advocate for government rescues during times of social issues, a new role for officeholders and the sovereign state as well. Others have remarked on the similarities between the 1837 depression and FDR’s New Deal response a century in the future. Still others consider him a trust buster, but 60 years before Teddy Roosevelt and his Big Stick threats.

Perhaps less skilled in the art of personal introspective, Greeley viewed himself as an “indispensable figure in achieving national consensus.” His lofty goal was nothing less than the eradication of political differences and a complete embrace of Whig principles and sensibilities. (We are still waiting for his version of transcendental harmony.) Alas, his yearning for consensus blunted his understanding of political events. He was surprisingly slow to grasp the moral dimension of slavery until the 1850s when violence erupted (i.e. Bleeding Kansas).

He abandoned his dream of consensus in favor of the North’s overwhelming strength to simply impose its will, saying “Let the erring states go in peace.” He then turned to badgering President Lincoln to negotiate a peace to stop the bloodshed – basically preserving slavery. Lincoln’s letter to the editor on Aug. 22, 1862, says it all: “If I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing all the slaves I would do it; and if I could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do that.” The subtle wisdom not to expand the war into any of the border states is a point often overlooked.

In 1872, the famously eccentric editor from New York ran for president against Ulysses S. Grant, lost badly, and then died before the electoral votes were counted. Lincoln had likened Greeley to an “old shoe — good for nothing now, whatever he has been,” and Greeley himself perceived his failure. “I stand naked before my God, the most utterly, hopelessly wretched and undone of all who ever lived.”

Personally, I think not. (Seek thee proof … simply look around us today.)

Intelligent Collector blogger JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Presidential elections routinely deliver twists of fate

This Martin Van Buren rectangular sulfide sold for $11,250 at a February 2015 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

The Republic of Texas became an independent sovereign state on March 3, 1836. The United States recognized the legitimacy of the republic, but declined to annex the territory until Dec. 29, 1845, when it also became the 28th state. However, after the 1860 election of Republican Abraham Lincoln, the state of Texas, with a population that was about 30 percent Blacks (predominantly slaves), seceded from the Union. In 1861, Texas joined the Confederate States of America.

The well-known slogan “Six Flags over Texas” refers to the nations that governed Texas: Spain, France, Mexico, the Republic of Texas, the United States and the Southern Confederacy. Some historians claim that the last battle of the Civil War was fought in Texas at the Battle of Palmito Ranch on May 12-13, 1865. This may be technically correct, but it was after General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox (April 9) and President Jefferson Finis Davis dissolved the Confederacy (May 9). They also point out that the battle was a Confederate victory, which seems irrelevant.

Today, Texas is the second-largest state by area (Alaska is No. 1) and second largest in population (No. 1 is California).

The annexation of Texas occurred during the time the United States was rapidly expanding into the geographic area that would become the “Lower 48,” but deeply divided over the slavery issue that would plague national politics. The two-party system was still in an embryonic stage and hybrid political affiliations would result in unusual national elections.

A prime example is Martin Van Buren, vice president for Andrew Jackson from 1833-37 and the eighth man to serve in that position. In the election of 1836, he became the eighth president of the United States and the first to have been born (1782) after the American Revolution.

The election of 1836 was unusual since the recently formed Whig party was still sufficiently disorganized to the point they couldn’t agree on a single candidate to oppose Van Buren. In a highly questionable gamble, they decided to run four strong regional candidates with the hope they could deny Van Buren the opportunity to win a majority of the electoral votes and force the election into the House of Representatives. Despite having to run against four strong regional candidates, Van Buren won a majority of the electoral votes after winning a majority of the popular votes in both the North and South.

However, in a twist of fate, Van Buren’s vice president running mate, Richard M. Johnson, fell one electoral vote short when 23 Unfaithful Electors from Virginia refused to vote for Johnson due to their objections over his biracial marriage. So, for the first and only time (up till now), the United States Senate was required to hold a special election for the vice president. Johnson finally prevailed and served his four years as vice president for President Martin Van Buren. One could hope that this was an unfortunate anomaly, but they would be wrong.

When the Democrats met in Baltimore four years later in 1840 for their nominating convention, the incumbent president, Martin Van Buren, was renominated as expected. But VP Johnson ran into another political issue: the Democratic Party now considered him to be dead weight that would drag down the entire ticket. Even ex-President Andrew Jackson agreed and suggested they drop Johnson and replace him with a younger man … James K. Polk – the Speaker of the House. After the normal wrangling, they were still unable to agree and Martin Van Buren ran without a vice president!

This is only one of two elections (until 2020) where a major party did not have a vice presidential candidate on Election Day. The other was in 1912, when Vice President James S. Sherman (Republican) died six days before the election. You will not be surprised to learn that Martin Van Buren did not win the election and was replaced by William Henry Harrison as president and John Tyler, a Senator from Virginia, as vice president. Tyler took his oath of office on March 4, 1841. However, 30 days later, he was president of the United States when Harrison became the first president to die in office. Tyler was only 51 years old and the youngest president till that time.

Now skip forward 20 years to see how this sage evolved:

“At 4:30 a.m. April 12, 1861, a 10-inch mortar from Fort Johnson, on James Island, South Carolina, fired the first shot of the Civil War. Upon that signal, Confederate batteries from Sullivan’s Island, across Charleston Harbor, joined in. These were soon followed by a battery located at Cummings Point, which dominated Fort Sumpter from a distance of only a mile. The Civil War had begun.”

Epilogue: The hot heads in South Carolina were delirious with joy! They would chase these Yankees back North and whup their behinds in the process. President Jefferson Davis called up 100,000 troops to end this quickly. The old veterans yawned and predicted these cotton states would not last 30 days. Bull Run would demonstrate just how powerful the North was as they crushed these Southern rebels.

Welcome to your new job and shiny new home, Mr. Lincoln.

Our country is a better place because of Horace Greeley

A rare 1872 presidential campaign banner for Horace Greeley and Benjamin Gratz Brown sold for $38,750 at a November 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

In his autobiography, Horace Greeley made a critical observation when he wrote: “Having loved and devoured newspapers, I early resolved to be a printer if I could.” Not only was he able to fulfill his resolution, but a strong case exists that he was probably the preeminent printer/editor of the 18th century, easily surpassing Ben Franklin, James Gordon Bennett and the other prominent American editors.

Newspapers had started as a modest sideline for printers before they evolved into a potent force leading the inexorable push in support of American independence. It is telling that the founders, who debated for months over the construction of the Constitution and made many compromises in the process, easily agreed on the value of a free and independent press. The very first Amendment to this sacred document guaranteed freedom of the press and it is still the first one to be defended yet today without any controversy. In addition, the Postal Service Act of 1792 established generous subsidies to ensure widespread circulation (under the law, a newspaper was delivered to subscribers for only 1 penny up to 100 miles away).

As a child, Greeley (1811-1872) demonstrated a remarkable affinity for the printed word. He learned to read by age 3, and polished off the entire Bible two years later before starting on John Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress – a Christian allegory (1678) cited as the first novel written in English. This purportedly was followed by the Arabian Nights.

He had an encyclopedic memory crammed with dates, facts and significant events. Children with these mental abilities typically had little time for physical ability and Greeley was no exception. He was of little use in planting crops, tending animals or simply cavorting with other children. However, he was so obviously intelligent that a wealthy neighbor offered to send him to the prestigious Phillips Exeter Academy and then on to college. The Greeley family refused to accept any form of charity and Horace became even more determined to be successful.

In 1826, he accepted a position as a printer’s apprentice and in his spare time he read his way through the town’s public library. By 1831, he had migrated to New York City, trying his hand at various jobs involving printing, but with only modest success. Within three years, he was able to publish the first issue of The New-Yorker, an inexpensive literary magazine that failed during the Panic of 1837.

Undaunted, in 1840 he borrowed $1,000 and with the remnants of The New-Yorker started the now famous New-York Tribune. His timing was perfect and the Tribune was a success nearly from the first issue. Greeley had developed a revolutionary credo that was quickly adopted by the masses … the simple premise that newspapers should be printed to both entertain and inform the entire community. His competition had adopted a style that was limited to narrow petty issues, private interests and too many advertisements for shady schemes.

Greeley’s success as a publisher was primarily due to his bold thinking, daring imagination and total rejection of the stifling precedent that was so common. He literally invented the modern-style newspaper, much as Thomas Edison invented the light bulb. Those countless hours of reading had given him a discriminating taste and an eye for superior printing that hadn’t existed.

For three decades in the middle of the 19th century (1840-70), his pen produced a virtual torrent of essays, articles and books that earned him a reputation as a highly respected printer/editor in the newspaper vortex of New York. Inevitably, politics became his area of expertise, altering the form and content in new and exciting ways. Many believe he personally created modern journalism, proclaiming, “He chases rascals, not dollars.”

He was described as having a weird appearance … tall and angular with a head, torso and limbs that didn’t match. This was a perfect match for the range of topics he eagerly promoted: socialism (hiring Karl Marx to extoll the virtues), vegetarianism, agrarianism, feminism (he supported black suffrage but not for women), temperance and anti-trust (60 years before Teddy Roosevelt). He was anti-slavery but not for abolition, and was willing to let slave states secede at will (they will come back … no need for war).

This whole story came to an end in 1872 when he felt compelled to challenge President Ulysses S. Grant. Despite being one of the founders of the Republican Party, he had exposed a devastating list of crimes, corruption and incompetence that Grant had to be held accountable for. In a twist, the Democrats – who didn’t have their own candidate – nominated Greeley as a Liberal Republican!

Greeley died 30 days before the election and Grant had a reasonable second term.

Our country was a better place because of Horace Greeley.

This strange-appearing man – who managed to make Abraham Lincoln look debonair, who was too frightened to play baseball, yet who had the temerity to mingle with frenzied crowds taunting him after he paid the bail for Jefferson Davis after the Civil War – set a standard for personal ethics that still stands, although lost in the mist of history.

Was Henry Ford right? Is history bunk?

A first edition of John F. Kennedy’s *Profiles in Courage*, inscribed by the author, realized $7,500 at a September 2018 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Among the towering figures of the Civil War, none is more enigmatic than General William Tecumseh Sherman.

Widely denounced as ruthlessly destructive for his infamous March to the Sea across Georgia, Sherman was a brilliant commander who helped bring the bloody war to a decisive end. His legacy of “total war” against anyone and everyone (even unarmed civilians) has haunted many Americans and military leaders. It has no parallel in U.S. military history in terms of ferocity or effectiveness.

Sherman (1820-1891) was massively paranoid due to a catastrophic event when he was 9 years old. His father, apparently very successful, suddenly went into bankruptcy and then died … leaving the family penniless and in chaos. His decision to do whatever necessary to restore order and harmony to the Union was rooted in his compulsion for normalcy.

Psychobabble aside, I tend to agree with the following: “The historians of the future will note his shortcomings. Not captiously, but in the kind spirit of impartial justice he will set them down to draw the perfect balance of his character. Let him deduct them from the qualities that mark his distinction, and we shall still see William Tecumseh Sherman looming up a superb and colossal figure in the generation in which he lived,” said General F.C. Winkler, addressing the Army of the Cumberland in the year Sherman died.

Edwin McMasters Stanton (1814-69) became Attorney General for President James Buchanan the day Major Robert Anderson moved his federal troops to Fort Sumter, S.C. This action was viewed as a quasi act-of-war and South Carolina issued an “ordinance of secession.” Later, Stanton would become Abraham Lincoln’s War Secretary and General-in-Chief, replacing General George McClellan due to “inaction.” After Lincoln’s assassination, he became the temporary de facto head of the government as Andrew Johnson was paralyzed in a state of inaction and Congress was not in session.

A man of action, Stanton mobilized the hunt for John Wilkes Booth and all suspected conspirators. All but three were hanged after a swift military tribunal found them guilty. The Stanton role was played by Kevin Kline in the 2010 movie The Conspirator, directed by Robert Redford. Robin Wright played Mary Surratt, the first woman executed by the United States. After the trial, Stanton had a contentious role in President Johnson’s Cabinet, despite their intense mutual dislike.

Johnson (1808-1875) was the only member of the U.S. Senate from a seceding state (Tennessee) to remain loyal to the Union. Hoping to make an example to undermine the Confederacy, Lincoln designated him a brigadier general of volunteers and appointed him military governor of the state with instructions to form a government and return to the Union. The best Johnson could do was declare himself the leading Unionist of the South. Lincoln was expecting a difficult re-election in 1864 and Johnson was selected as vice president in the hope he could attract Southern Democratic votes. They were nominated in June and elected in November. Johnson botched his inauguration by getting drunk; his oath of office was a rambling, incoherent speech. It was so humiliating that he left town for a week. Upon his discreet return, accounts described him as the “invisible man.” Six short weeks later, he would be president of the United States.

The lives of these three men would become forever intertwined in a fascinating series of events.

On April 9, 1865, at the Appomattox Court House, Robert E. Lee (1807-1870) surrendered the Army of Northern Virginia to General Ulysses S. Grant (1822-1885), who accepted the surrender under terms that were considered generous. President Lincoln accepted them since he was still apprehensive about the rest of the Southern troops.

Three Confederate generals – Joe Johnston, Edmund Kirby Smith and Nathan Bedford Forrest – were still on the loose. Lincoln and Grant feared they would form guerilla units. The war could then theoretically last several more years.

However, after Lincoln’s assassination on April 15, Johnston followed Lee’s action and surrendered his troops to General Sherman. Their first meeting was similar to Grant/Lee, except without aides and note-takers (and the eyes of history). Sherman offered to accept Johnston’s surrender on the same terms as those give to Lee. Surprisingly, Johnston demurred and countered with a stunning proposal to make it a “universal surrender” – thereby surrendering all Southern forces to the Rio Grande. In short, it would end the war once and for all.

When Sherman agreed and sent it forward, President Johnson and the entire Cabinet were furious. They suspected Sherman of a conspiracy to take over the entire country or, at a minimum, position himself for the 1868 presidential election. It took Grant 10 days of diplomacy to settle the issue, but exposed a deep rift between President Johnson and Secretary Stanton.

In the end, when Johnson tried to fire Stanton, the Republican Congress impeached the president for “high crimes and misdemeanors.” He was famously acquitted by one vote (twice) by Senator Edmund G. Ross of Kansas. Interestingly, Ross was among the eight men profiled in the 1957 Pulitzer Prize-winning book Profiles in Courage “by” John F. Kennedy.

Critics have claimed Ross was bribed for his vote to acquit … and that Kennedy’s speechwriter and close adviser Ted Sorensen had ghostwritten the JFK book. Even Eleanor Roosevelt weighed in, famously quipping, “I wish that Kennedy had a little less profile and more courage.”

Perhaps Henry Ford was right. History is bunk!

Let’s just say Julia Grant truly enjoyed her days in the White House

This cabinet card, signed by First Lady Julia D. Grant, went to auction in November 2015.

By Jim O’Neal

In May 1876, President Ulysses S. Grant and his wife Julia traveled to Philadelphia from Washington to open the Centennial Exposition in Fairmount Park. The United States was celebrating its 100th birthday and the signing of the Declaration of Independence. It was also a great opportunity to display the remarkable industrial progress that had occurred during the intervening years, especially in the 19th century. The exhibition was the result of three years of extensive planning and it was an impressive accumulation of American ingenuity.

On May 10, before an excited crowd of 186,672, Grant officially opened the fair following Wagner’s Centennial March. It was difficult to hear his speech due to crowd noise, but a flag raising and cannon volley was followed by a loud chorus of “hallelujah!” This was followed by a march to Machinery Hall, where a switch was thrown to spark the enormous Corliss electrical engine to power up all the machinery. At 50 feet tall, it was the largest in the world and powered more than 100 machines on display.

The First Lady was miffed that she wasn’t chosen to start the festivities and her pique exposed how accustomed she had grown to deference in the White House after eight years of pampering. But that honor went to Empress Teresa Cristina, wife of Emperor Dom Pedro II, the last emperor of the Brazilian empire. He had become emperor at age 5 when his father died and he reigned for an astounding 58 years (1831-1889).

Dom Pedro had visited the United States earlier and had attended one of Alexander Graham Bell’s deaf-mute classes at Boston College. Inspired by Bell’s work, he founded the first deaf-mute school in Rio de Janeiro when he returned home. Coincidently, Bell had been persuaded to exhibit his latest invention at the fair: the Bell telephone. When the affable emperor learned of Bell’s exhibit, he eagerly agreed to try the device in a demonstration for a crowd.

Placing the receiver to his ear, he was treated to Bell’s personal recitation of Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy. Delighted and astonished, Dom Pedro exclaimed, “My God, it talks!”

However, the general public proved to be less impressed and hard to sell. As one detractor complained, “It is a scientific toy … for professors of electricity and acoustics.” After convincing his father-in-law, lawyer and financier Gardiner Hubbard, Bell and his assistant Tom Watson set out on a demonstration tour. AGB would sit on a stage, connected to Watson via leased telegraph lines several miles away. After introductory remarks, Watson would sing a repertoire of tunes, including Yankee Doodle.

As an aside, AGB’s first coherent telephone message – “Mr. Watson, come here, I want to see you” – was really a plea for help. He had spilled battery acid on his pants and, instinctively, made the first emergency call in history. We know how that story progressed since we all carry around smartphones that have more computing power (and other functionality) than Apollo 11 when it made its historic manned flight to the moon in 1969.

Although Grant was cheered at the opening of the Centennial Exposition, any thoughts he had about a third term disappeared in a toxic haze of a weak economy and widespread corruption. When the Republican Convention met in Cincinnati in June, the party platform directly criticized Grant, calling the administration “a corrupt centralism … carpetbag tyranny … honeycomb federal government … with incapacity, waste and fraud.” Out of this cesspool stepped the governor of Ohio, Rutherford B. Hayes, an honest, sincere man with a commitment to limiting the presidency to a single term. Democrats picked the governor of New York, Samuel Tilden, with strong credentials having conquered Tammany Hall and the corrupt Boss Tweed ring of rogues.

Hayes won in 1876 after the most controversial presidential election in U.S. history. Grant was actually worried about a coup as Democrats, convinced the election was rigged, rallied under the cry of “Blood or Tilden.” Since March 4, 1877, was a Sunday, there was precedent to avoid having the inauguration on the Sabbath by waiting until the next day, as Presidents Monroe and Taylor had done. Grant was so paranoid about waiting an extra day that he arranged for a private ceremony on Saturday night as part of a routine dinner at the White House. Hayes was sworn in by Chief Justice Morrison Waite before the food was served.

On Monday, March 5, the ceremony was recreated (for show only) before a crowd estimated at 30,000. A teary-eyed Julia Grant was not one of them. She stayed in the White House as long as possible and I suspect she would have welcomed having another four years. She even hosted a luncheon for her successor after the inauguration. She later wrote, “How pretty the house was … in an abandon of grief, I flung myself on the lounge and wept, wept oh so bitterly.”

Believe it or not, electing presidents has never been a pleasant affair

An 1889 letter in which Rutherford B. Hayes discusses his inauguration sold for $19,120 at an April 2007 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

One discouraging trend in American culture is treating everything from a partisan-political standpoint. I can recall not too long ago after an election, we’d simply forget about our disagreements about candidates and resume normal civility. Now it seems that nearly everything gets politicized, dividing the nation into continually warring tribes of Red and Blue. Some political pundits see the starting point as the 2000 Gore versus Bush election, with its hanging chads and the controversial Supreme Court decision to stop the vote recount in Florida. Others believe the feud between President Bill Clinton and Speaker Newt Gingrich exacerbated it.

However, to accept either theory requires ignoring the 1876 presidential election between Samuel Tilden and Rutherford B. Hayes.

Hayes, the Republican, was a lawyer from Ohio who distinguished himself during the Civil War as a brave soldier who was wounded five times and eventually promoted to a brevet major general. After the war, he served in Congress and was elected governor of Ohio three times.

Tilden also had a legal background and was the 25th governor of New York (1875-76). As the Democratic candidate for the presidency in 1876, he is still the only individual to win an outright majority (not just a plurality) of the popular vote, but lose the election … in a rather bizarre series of events. Four other candidates have lost the presidency despite having a plurality of the popular vote (Al Gore and Hillary Clinton are the most recent to suffer this fate).

It had generally been assumed that incumbent President Ulysses S. Grant would run for a third term, despite a troubled economy and numerous scandals that had been discovered during his two terms, which started in 1869. There was also the two-term precedent established by George Washington. In spite of these formidable barriers, Grant’s inner circle of advisors were eager to maintain political power. While Grant was on the verge of announcing his candidacy, the House of Representatives preempted him by passing a resolution by an overwhelming margin, 233-18, establishing a two-term limit to prevent a dictatorship. Grant reluctantly withdrew his name from consideration.

The Democrats proceeded with their National Convention in June 1876 in St. Louis (the first time a major political convention was held west of the Mississippi). They selected Tilden on the second ballot and added Thomas Hendricks for vice president, since he was the only one nominated. The Democrats were hungry for a win since they had been out of power since James Buchanan, who was elected a full 20 years earlier in 1856.

What followed was the most contentious presidential election in American history. On the first vote in the Electoral College, Tilden had 184 votes (only one short) while Hayes was stuck at 165. However, there were 20 votes being contested in four states (Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina and Oregon) and both parties were claiming victory. This impasse caused a Constitutional crisis and, finally, a beleaguered Congress passed a law on Jan. 29, 1877, to form a special 15-member Electoral Commission to settle the dispute. After a great debate, the commission awarded all 20 disputed votes to Hayes, who became president with 185 votes to Tilden’s 184.

In return, Republicans passed a resolution that required an end to Reconstruction and the removal of all federal troops from every Southern state. Over the next 20 years, the states passed all kinds of laws and regulations that effectively wiped out the provisions of the 14th and 15th Amendments to the Constitution that granted numerous rights to the black population. It would take another 60 years to regain them when LBJ was president and finally crack the “Solid South” grip on national politics.

Maybe we are doomed to be a divided nation, but I suspect that strong leaders will emerge, eventually, and help us remember the advantages of a group of united states … E pluribus unum.

Union general had no patience with those who complained about war

William Tecumseh Sherman’s dress uniform as general of the Union Army sold for $62,500 at a June 2018 Heritage auction.

“I beg to present you as a Christmas gift the city of Savannah with 150 heavy guns and plenty of ammunition and also about 25,000 bales of cotton.” – Maj. Gen. William Tecumseh Sherman, Dec. 22, 1864, telegram to President Lincoln

By Jim O’Neal

From mid-November 1864, there had been no word from William Tecumseh Sherman or his Union Army. President Lincoln, anxious about the fate of 60,000 soldiers, tried to conceal his concern, telling one crowd, “We all know where he went in, but I can’t tell where he will come out.”

Gen. Ulysses S. Grant was far less concerned as he followed his lieutenants’ progress in the Southern press and assembled supplies to send to Savannah, along with the Union Army’s mail. In early December, his reports indicated that Sherman had arrived in Savannah on Dec. 10. Eleven days later, Sherman occupied the mostly evacuated city, but once again, they had failed to cut off the retreat of the Rebel Garrison. With this communication, Sherman brought to a conclusion his famous March to the Sea.

Arguments still flare up over the destruction that occurred during this critical episode of the Civil War, but Sherman’s primary target was property, not people, and his troops were not alone in terrorizing the countryside. The Confederate Cavalry, deserters from both sides, and bands of “bummers” both black and white contributed their share to the chaos. As Sherman observed, “Sweeping around generally through Georgia for the purpose of inflicting damage would not be good generalship.”

Rather, what he aimed to do was intimidate and terrorize Southerners to break their will to continue fighting. It was psychological warfare. “These people made war upon us, defied and dared us to come South to their country where they boasted they would kill us.” He had no patience with those who protested or complained. The strategy worked where there was total destruction and there was no means to fight on, but pride and ignorance kept the war alive in other places where leaders refused to accept the inevitable.

Critics of Sherman’s March that complain about his scorched-earth policy typically overlook his occupation of Savannah. He basically left it alone after the inhabitants accepted defeat, except when merchants tried to reclaim the cotton he had captured. Sherman was far more interested in their return to the Union than continual martial law that would only result in further alienation.

By conventional strategy, Sherman’s next move should have been the immediate transfer of his Army by water to Virginia, where Grant had Gen. Robert E. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia bottled up behind fortifications at Petersburg. The Federal Navy had the ships available. Both Lincoln and Grant supported this plan, but Sherman disagreed. Instead, he wanted to apply total war – as he had in Georgia – to the Carolinas.

He especially wanted to punish South Carolina, “the Palmetto State,” for its role in starting the war. He was convinced that by bringing the war to the Carolinas’ home front, his operations would have a direct bearing on the struggle in Virginia. Even the people in Georgia prodded him to pay their neighbors a visit. As Sherman later observed, “My aim then was to whip the rebels, humble their pride, to follow them to their innermost recesses and make them fear and dread us.”

By late January 1865, Sherman’s 60,000 veterans commenced the march into South Carolina and he stopped his communications. It would be late March before he commented on the most controversial issue of the campaign – the burning of Columbia, the state capital. His instructions to the commander of the Army of Georgia, Maj. Gen. Henry Warner Slocum, were direct: “The more of it you destroy, the better it will be. The people of South Carolina should be made to feel the war, for they brought it on and are responsible for our presence here. Now it is time to punish them.”

By the end of the month, he was on his way to North Carolina, with the end of the war coming into sight. “It is only those who have never fired a shot nor heard the shrieks of the wounded,” Sherman said, “who cry aloud for blood, more vengeance, more desolation.”

Notorious traitors? Let’s look at Benedict Arnold

A May 24, 1776, letter by Benedict Arnold, signed, to Gen. William Thompson, realized $23,750 at an April 2016 Heritage auction.

By Jim O’Neal

Vidkun Quisling is an obscure name from World War II. To those unfamiliar with some of the lesser-known details, “Quisling” has become a synonym for a traitor or collaborator. From 1942 to 1945, he was Prime Minister of Norway, heading a pro-Nazi puppet government after Germany invaded. For his role, Quisling was put on trial for high treason and executed by firing squad on Oct. 24, 1945.

Obviously better known are Judas Iscariot of Last Supper fame (30 pieces of silver); Guy Fawkes, who tried to assassinate King James I by blowing up Parliament (the Gunpowder Plot); and Marcus Junius Brutus, who stabbed Julius Caesar (“Et tu, Brute?”). In American history, it’s a close call between John Wilkes Booth and Benedict Arnold.

The irony concerning Benedict Arnold (1741-1801) is that his early wartime exploits had made him a legendary figure, but Arnold never forgot the sleight he received in February 1777 when Congress bypassed him while naming five new major generals … all of them junior to him. Afterward, George Washington pledged to help Arnold “with opportunities to regain the esteem of your country,” a promise he would live to regret.

Unknown to Washington, Arnold had already agreed to sell secret maps and plans of West Point to the British via British Maj. John André. There have always been honest debates over Arnold’s real motives for this treacherous act, but it seems clear that purely personal gain was the primary objective. Heavily in debt, Arnold had brokered a deal that included having the British pay him 6,000 pound sterling and award him a British Army commission for his treason. There is also little doubt that his wife Peggy was a full accomplice, despite a dramatic performance pretending to have lost her mind rather than her loyalty.

The history of West Point can be traced back to when it was occupied by the Continental Army after the Second Continental Congress (1775-1781) was designated to manage the Colonial war effort. West Point – first known as Fort Arnold and renamed Fort Clinton – was strategically located on high ground overlooking the Hudson River, with panoramic views extending all the way to New York City, ideal for military purposes. Later, in 1801, President Jefferson ordered plans to establish the U.S. Marine Corps there, and West Point has since churned out many distinguished military leaders … first for the Mexican-American War and then for the Civil War, including both Ulysses S. Grant and Robert E. Lee. It is the oldest continuously operating Army post in U.S. history.

To understand this period in American history, it helps to start at the end of the Seven Years’ War (1756-63), which was really a global conflict that included every major European power and spanned five continents. Many historians consider it “World War Zero,” and on the same scale as the two 20th century wars. In North America, the skirmishes started two years earlier in the French and Indian War, with Great Britain an active participant.

The Treaty of Paris in 1763 ended the conflict, with the British winning a stunning series of battles, France surrendering its Canadian holdings, and the Spanish ceding its Florida territories in exchange for Cuba. Consequently, the British Empire emerged as the most powerful political force in the world. The only issue was that these conflicts had nearly doubled England’s debt from 75 million to 130 million sterling.

A young King George III and his Parliament quietly noted that the Colonies were nearly debt free and decided it was time for them to pay for the 8,000-10,000 Redcoat peacetime militia stationed in North America. In April 1864, they passed legislation via the Currency Act and the Sugar Act. This limited inflationary Colonial currency and cut the trade duty on foreign molasses. In 1765, they struck again. Twice. The Quartering Act forced the Colonists to pay for billeting the king’s troops. Then the infamous Stamp Act placed direct taxes on Americans for the first time.

This was one step too far and inevitably led to the Revolutionary War, with armed conflict that involved hot-blooded, tempestuous individuals like Benedict Arnold. A brilliant military leader of uncommon bravery, Arnold poured his life into the Revolutionary cause, sacrificing his family life, health and financial well-being for a conflict that left him physically crippled. Sullied with false accusations, he became profoundly alienated from the American cause for liberty. His bitterness unknown to Washington, on Aug. 3, 1780, the future first president announced Arnold would take command of the garrison at West Point.

The appointed commander calculated that turning West Point over to the British, perhaps along with Washington as well, would end the war in a single stroke by giving the British control over the Hudson River. The conspiracy failed when André was captured with incriminating documents. Arnold fled to a British warship and they refused to trade him for André, who was hanged as a spy after pleading to be shot by a firing squad. Arnold went on to lead British troops in Virginia, survived the war, and eventually settled in London. He quickly became the most vilified figure in American history and remains the symbol of treason yet today.

Gen. Nathanael Greene, often called Washington’s most gifted and dependable officer, summed it up after the war most succinctly: “Since the fall of Lucifer, nothing has equaled the fall of Arnold.”

JIM O’NEAL is an avid collector and history buff. He is president and CEO of Frito-Lay International [retired] and earlier served as chair and CEO of PepsiCo Restaurants International [KFC Pizza Hut and Taco Bell].

Telegram Pushed War-Weary America into World War I

A British recruiting poster issued in the wake of the sinking of the ocean liner *Lusitania* by a German U-boat in 1915 was offered in a December 2016 auction.

By Jim O’Neal

World War I officially began in Europe on July 28, 1914, but the strong isolationist sentiment in the United States prevented our involvement for nearly three years. The U.S. economy was booming and the tragic events in Europe were broadly viewed as a “foreign affair,” 3,000 miles across the Atlantic Ocean and something to be avoided. Further, it had only been 51 years since our Civil War had ended, with General Robert E. Lee surrendering to Ulysses S. Grant at Appomattox. The United States had not fully recovered from a military readiness standpoint and another war would be hard to sustain. The rebuilding of the South simply added to the problem.

Then there were the American bankers, who would make massive loans to Great Britain and France that would produce a nice, steady stream of profits. They were more than content to stay on the sidelines as long as their capital seemed secure. Show me a war and I will bet there are always groups profiting from making the bullets and bombs that create jobs. Other industries like steel or food production generally end up on the positive side of the export equation. Twenty-five years later, gearing up for World War II would help the country break the grip of the Great Depression. (Our military budget is currently over $700 billion … and growing.)

Another important factor were the immigrants in the United States, whose support was dependent on their country of origin. Most had left behind family and friends who would end up in harm’s way if America escalated the war. Naturally, there were also the permanent peaceniks like the Quakers and other religious groups who were simply pacifists by virtue of their beliefs. Two million socialists could be lumped into this group, as well as numerous women’s organizations.

The 8 million German-Americans had little loyalty to Germany, and were surprisingly neutral in addition to being strongly against any war, especially if it involved Germany. Their primary concern if the United States entered the war revolved around the reprisals against them as questions about their allegiance to America were already at a simmering level. This apprehension had been growing since the sinking of the British passenger ship Lusitania and German U-boats sank six American merchant ships, including the Housatonic – all without any warning.

On Nov. 7, 1916, President Woodrow Wilson was re-elected on an anti-war platform and a campaign slogan of “He kept us out of war” (note the past tense). He had defeated Supreme Court Justice Charles Evans Hughes Sr. by dominating the Southern vote and in the run-up to the election knew it would be a competitive battle. With a war raging in Europe, Wilson was concerned that if he lost, he would be a lame-duck president for four long months. He devised a clever plan that involved making Hughes the Secretary of State and then he and Vice President Thomas R. Marshall would immediately resign and Hughes would become president, as the rules of succession applied at that time.

Wilson was the first sitting Democratic president to win re-election since Andrew Jackson in 1832. Six months later, we would be in World War I due to a quirk of fate or a German blunder: the Zimmermann Telegram.

In January 1917, a coded message was sent from German Foreign Secretary Arthur Zimmermann to Germany’s Ambassador to Mexico that was to be relayed to Mexican President Venustiano Carranza. “We intend to begin on the first of February unrestricted submarine warfare. We shall endeavor to keep the United States neutral … If not succeeding, we make Mexico a proposal on the following basis; make war together, make peace together, generous financial support … Mexico is to re-conquer the lost territory in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The settlement detail is left to you.”

On Feb. 1, 1917, Germany began unrestricted U-boat warfare in the Atlantic. U.S. ships came under attack and the USA broke off diplomatic relations with Germany.

March 1, President Wilson authorized the State Department publication of the Zimmermann Telegram in the press and, as intended, it inflamed American public opinion against Germany.

April 2: Wilson addressed a special session of Congress to declare war.

April 4: Senate approved 82-6 (the House concurred 373-50).

April 6: Wilson signed a formal declaration of war on Germany.

And so war came again to America despite the reluctance of many people.

BTW: On April 14, after the formal declaration of war, President Carranza formally declined the German proposal. It is interesting to speculate on the outcome if the decision had been in the affirmative. I suspect we might have ended up with a few more stars on the flag.

America has a Long History of Rough-and-Tumble Politics

A cabinet card photograph dated 1852, shortly after the marriage of Rutherford and Lucy Hayes, went to auction in October 2008.

By Jim O’Neal

A surprisingly high number of political pundits ascribe the current bitter partisan divide to the presidential election of 2000, when the Supreme Court ordered the recount of “under-votes” in Florida to cease. As a result, the previously certified election results would stand and George W. Bush would receive all 25 Florida electoral votes, thus providing him a 271-266 nationwide victory over Al Gore. Democrats almost universally believed the election had been “stolen” due to the seemingly unprecedented action by the Supremes.

Although obviously a factor in the situation today, it seems too simplistic to me, as I remember the Clinton Impeachment, the start of the Iraq War (and the president who lied us into war), and, of course, Obamacare – all of which were also major contributors to the long, slow erosion of friendly bipartisanship. Now, we’re in an era when each new day seems to drag up a new issue that Americans can’t agree on and the schism widens ever so slightly.

Could it be worse?

The answer is obviously “yes,” since we once tried to kill each other into submission during the Civil War. Another good example is the highly controversial presidential election of 1876, which resulted in Rutherford B. Hayes becoming president. The loser, Samuel J. Tilden, had such staunch supporters that they promised “blood would run in the streets” if their candidate lost. After a highly ultra-controversial decision threw the election to Hayes, Democrats continued to make wild threats, and public disturbances were rampant across New York City hotels, saloons, bars and any other venues where crowds gathered.

The unrest was so high that outgoing President Ulysses S. Grant gradually became convinced that a coup was imminent. This was the closest the Dems had come to the White House since James Buchanan’s election 20 years earlier in 1856 and passions were so high that they would not be calmed easily. The level of resentment was much more than about losing an election or the ascendancy of the Republican Party with all their fierce abolitionists. It seems apparent even today that the election results had been politically rigged or, at a minimum, very cleverly stolen in a quasi-legalistic maneuver.

Grant’s primary concern was one of timing. The normal inauguration date of March 4 fell on a Sunday and tradition called for it to be held the next day, on Monday, March 5 (as with Presidents James Monroe and Zachary Taylor). Thus the presidency would be technically vacant from noon on Sunday until noon on Monday. The wily old military genius knew this would be plenty of time to pull off a coup d’état. He insisted Hayes not wait to take the oath of office.

In a clever ruse, the Grants made arrangements for a secret oath-taking on Saturday evening by inviting 38 people to an honorary dinner at the White House. While the guests were being escorted to the State Dining Room, Grant and Hayes slipped into the Red Room, where Chief Justice Morrison Waite was waiting with the proper documents. All went as planned until it was discovered there was no Bible available. No problem … Hayes was sworn in as the 19th president of the United States with a simple oath.

The passing of power has been one of the outstanding aspects of our constitutional form of governance.

Hayes was born on Oct. 4, 1822 – 2½ months after his father had died of tetanus, leaving his pregnant mother with two young children. From these less-than-humble beginnings, the enterprising “Rud” got a first-rate education that culminated with an LLB degree from Harvard Law School. Returning to Ohio, he established a law practice, was active in the Civil War and finally served two non-consecutive terms as governor of Ohio, which proved to be a steppingstone to the White House.

Most historians believe Hayes and his family were the richest occupants of the White House until Herbert and Lou Hoover showed up 52 years later. They certainly had a reputation for living on the edge of extravagance, and some cynics believe this was in large part due to the banning all alcohol in the White House (presidents in those days paid for booze and wine personally). Incidentally, the nickname for the first lady, “Lemonade Lucy,” did not happen until long after they left the White House.

President Hayes kept his pledge to serve only one term; he died of a heart attack in 1893 at age 70. The first Presidential Library in the United States was built in his honor in 1916.