Western Characters Part 17

THE POLITICIAN.

"All would be deemed, e'en from the cradle, fit To rule in politics as well as wit: The grave, the gay, the fopling, and the dunce, Start up (G.o.d bless us!) statesmen all at once!"

CHURCHILL.

In a country where the popular breath sways men to its purposes or caprices, as the wind bends the weeds in a meadow, statesmans.h.i.+p may become a _system_, but can never rise to the dignity of a _science_; and politics, instead of being an _art_, is a series of _arts_.

A system is order without principle: a science is order, based upon principle. Statesmans.h.i.+p has to do with generalities--with the relations of states, the exposition and preservation of const.i.tutional provisions, and with fundamental organizations. Politics relates to measures, and the details of legislation. The _art_ of governing is the accomplishment of the true politician: the _arts_ of governing are the trickeries of the demagogue. _Right_ is the key-note of one: _popularity_ of the other.

The large majority of men are sufficiently candid to acknowledge--at least to themselves--that they are unfit for the station of law-giver; but the vanity and jealousy begotten by partic.i.p.ation in political power, lead many of them, if not actually to believe, at all events to _act_ upon the faith, that men, no more able than themselves, are the best material for rulers. It is a kind of compromise between their modesty and self-love: not burthening them with the trials and responsibilities of positions for which they feel incompetent, but soothing their vanity by the contemplation of office-holders not at all their superiors. Below a certain (or uncertain) grade, therefore, political stations are usually filled by men of very moderate abilities: and their elevation is favored--indeed, often effected--by the very causes which should prevent it. Such men are p.r.o.ne to thrust themselves upon public notice, and thus secure, by persistence and impudence, what might not be awarded them on the score of merit.

It is a trite remark, that people are inclined to accept a man's estimate of himself, and to put him in possession of that place, in their consideration, which he has the hardihood to claim. And the observation is just, to this extent: if the individual does not respect himself, probably no one else will take that trouble. But in a country where universal suffrage reigns, it may be doubted whether the elevation of an ordinary man indicates any recognition of the justice of his claims. On the contrary, they may be endorsed precisely because they are false: that is, because he really possesses no other t.i.tle to the support of common men, than that which is founded upon fellow-feeling or sympathy of character. Many a man, therefore, who receives his election as a compliment from the voters, if he understood the motives of their action, would throw up his office in disgust; for in a large majority of cases, the popular choice, so far from being an a.s.sertion of the candidate's peculiar fitness to be singled out from among his brethren, is only a declaration that neither talent nor character ent.i.tles him to the distinction. The cry that a man is "one of the people," will bring him great strength at the ballot-box: but this is a phrase which means very different things, according as it is used by the candidate or the voter; and, in many cases, if they could thoroughly understand each other, the latter would not give his support, and the former would not ask it.

These remarks are applicable to all stages of society's progress; for, if the world were so enlightened, that, in the scale of intellect, such a man as Daniel Webster could only be cla.s.sed as an idiot, there would still be the "ignorant vulgar," the "uneducated cla.s.ses." Society is one entire web--albeit woven with threads of wool and silk, of silver and gold: turn it as you will, it must all turn together; and if a whirlwind of enlightenment should waft it to the skies, although each thread would be immeasurably above its present condition, the relation of one to another would still be the same. If the baser wool should be trans.m.u.ted into gold, the very same process would refine and sublimate the precious metal, in a corresponding ratio; and the equilibrium of G.o.d's appointed relations would remain undisturbed.

But it is more especially in the primitive periods, before the great political truths become household words, and while the reign of law and munic.i.p.al organization is a vague and distant thing, that most citizens shrink from official duties. Diffidence, in this matter is, fortunately, a disease which time will alleviate--a youthful weakness, which communities "outgrow," as children do physical defects; and, I believe, of late years, few offices have "gone begging," either east or west of the great barrier of the Allegheny.

In the earlier periods of its history, we have seen that the western country was peculiarly situated. The settlements were weak and the population small; with the exception of a few narrow fields, in the vicinity of each frontier fort, or stockade, the land was a wilderness, held in undisturbed possession by the savages and wild beasts. The great struggle, which we call the Revolution, but which was, in fact, only a justifiable and successful rebellion, had exhausted the force and drained the coffers of the feeble federal government; had plunged the infant states into enormous debts; and the only means of paying these were the boundless but unclaimed lands of the west, which the same causes rendered them unable to protect. The scattered settlements on the Mississippi side of the Alleghenies, were thus left to their own scanty resources; and the distance was so great, that, had the older states been able to afford a.s.sistance, the delays and losses attendant upon its transmission across so wide a tract of wilderness, would have made it almost nugatory.

In those times, therefore, though a few were looking forward to separate political organization and the erection of new states, the larger number of the western people were too constantly occupied with their defence, to give much attention to internal politics. Such organization as they had was military, or patriarchal: the early pioneer, who had distinguished himself in the first explorations of the country, or by successfully leading and establis.h.i.+ng a new settlement, as he became the commander of the local fort, was also the law-giver of the community.

The pressure of external danger was too close to allow a very liberal democracy in government; and, as must be the case in all primitive a.s.semblages of men, the counsels and commands of him whom they knew to be the _most able_, were always observed. He who had proven himself competent to lead was, therefore, the leader _ipso facto_ and _de jure_; and the evidence required was the performance of such exploits, and the display of such courage and sagacity, as were necessary to the defence, well-being, and protection of the community.

It is obvious that no mere pretender could exhibit these proofs; and that, where they were taken as the sole measure of a man's worth, dexterity with a rifle must be of more value than the accomplishments of a talker--Indian-fighting a more respectable occupation than speech-making. Small politicians were, therefore, very small men, and saying that one had "a turn for politics," would have been equivalent to calling him a vagabond. The people had neither time nor patience to listen to declamation--the man who rose in a public a.s.sembly, and called upon his neighbors to follow him in avenging a wrong, made the only speech they cared to hear. "Preambles and resolutions" were unmeaning formalities--their "resolutions" were taken in their own minds, and, to use their own expressive words, they executed them "without preamble."

An ounce of lead was worth more than a pound of advice; and, in the vindication of justice, a "charge" of gunpowder was more effectual than the most tedious judicial harangue. It is, even now, a proud, but well-founded boast, of western men, that these traits have been transmitted to them from their fathers--that they are more remarkable for _fighting_ than for _wrangling_, for _acting_ than for _talking_.

In such a state of society, civil offices existed scarcely in name, and were never very eagerly sought. That which makes official station desirable is obedience to its authority, and if the t.i.tle of "captain"

gave the idea of more absolute power than that of "sheriff," one would rather command a company of militia than the "_posse comitatus_."

Besides, the men of the frontier were simple-hearted and unambitious, desiring nothing so much as to be "left alone," and willing to make a compact of forbearance with the whole world--excepting only the Indians.

They had never been accustomed to the restraints of munic.i.p.al regulations, they were innocent of the unhealthy pleasures of office-holding, or the degrading impulses of office-seeking. Their lives had given them little or no knowledge of these things; experience had never suggested their importance, for their acquaintance with life was, almost exclusively, such as could be acquired in the woods and forest pathways.

But as time rolled away, and the population of the country became more dense--as the pressure of external danger was withdrawn, and the necessities of defence grew less urgent--the rigor of military organization came gradually to be somewhat irksome. The seeds of civil inst.i.tutions began to germinate among the people, while the extending interests of communities required corresponding enactments and regulations. The instincts of social beings, love of home and family, attachment to property, the desire of tranquillity, and, perhaps, a leaven of ambition for good estimation among neighbors, all combined to open men's eyes to the importance of peaceful inst.i.tutions. The day of the rifle and scalping-knife pa.s.sed away, and justice without form--the rule of the elementary strong-hand--gave place to order and legal ceremony.

Then first began to appear the cla.s.s of politicians, though, as yet, office-seeking had not become a trade, nor office-holding a regular means of livelihood. Politics had not acquired a place among the arts, nor had its professors become the teachers of the land. There were few, indeed, who sought to fill civil stations; and, although men's qualifications for office were, probably, not any more rigidly examined then than now, those who possessed the due degree of prominence, either deemed themselves, or were believed by their fellow-citizens, peculiarly capable of discharging such functions. They were generally men who had made themselves conspicuous or useful in other capacities--who had become well or favorably known to their neighbors through their zeal, courage, sagacity, or public spirit. A leader of regulators, for example, whose administration of his dangerous powers had been marked by prompt.i.tude and severity, was expected to be equally efficient when clothed with more regular authority. A captain of rangers, whose enterprises had been remarkable for certainty and _finish_, would, it was believed, do quite as good service, in the capacity of a civil officer. A daring pioneer, whose courage or presence of mind had saved himself and others from the dangers of the wilderness, was supposed to be an equally sure guide in the pathless ways of politics. Lawyers were yet few, and not of much repute, for they were, for the most part, youthful adventurers, who had come into the field long before the ripening of the harvest.

There was another cla.s.s, whose members held prominent positions, though they had never been distinguished for the possession of any of the qualifications above enumerated. These might be designated as the _noisy_ sort--loud-talking, wise-looking men, self-const.i.tuted oracles and advice-givers, with a better opinion of their own wisdom than any one else was willing to endorse. Such men became "file-leaders," or "pivot-men," because the taciturn people of the west, though inclined to undervalue a mere talker, were simple-minded enough to accept a man's valuation of his own powers: or easy-tempered enough to spare themselves the trouble of investigating so small a matter. It was of little consequence to them, whether the candidate was as wise as he desired to be thought; and since, in political affairs, they knew of no interest which they could have in disputing it, for _his_ gratification they were willing to admit it. These were halcyon days for mere pretenders--though for no very flattering reason: since their claims were allowed chiefly because they were not deemed worth controverting. Those days, thanks to the "progress of intelligence!" are now gone by: the people are better acquainted with the natural history of such animals, and--witness, ye halls of Congress!--none may now hold office except capable, patriotic, and disinterested men!

Nor must we be understood to a.s.sert that the primitive politician was the reverse of all this, save in the matter of capability. And, even in that particular, no conception of his deficiency ever glimmered in his consciousness. His own a.s.sumption, and the complaisance of his fellow-citizens, were inter-reactive, mutually cause and effect. _They_ were willing to confirm his valuation of his own talents: _he_ was inclined to exalt himself in their good opinion. Parallel to this, also, was the oracular tone of his speech: the louder he talked, the more respectfully silent were his auditors; and the more attentive _they_ became, the noisier _he_ grew. Submission always encourages oppression, and admiration adds fuel to the fire of vanity. Not that the politician was precisely a despot, even over men's opinions: the application of that name to him would have been as sore a wound to his self-respect as the imputation of horse-stealing. He was but an oracle of opinion, and though allowed to dictate in matters of thought as absolutely as if backed by brigades of soldiers, he was a sovereign whose power existed only through the consent of his subjects.

In personal appearance, he was well-calculated to retain the authority intrusted to him by such men. He was, in fact, an epitome of all the physical qualities which distinguished the rugged people of the west: and between these and the moral and intellectual, there is an invariable correspondence--as if the spirit within had moulded its material encas.e.m.e.nt to the planes and angles of its own "form and pressure."

National form and feature are the external marks of national character, stamped more or less distinctly in different individuals, but, in the aggregate, perfectly correspondent and commensurate. The man, therefore, who possesses the national traits of character in their best development, will be, also, the most faithful representative of his race in physical characteristics. At some periods, there are whole cla.s.ses of these types; and if there be any _one_ who embodies the character more perfectly than all others, the tranquillity of the age is not calculated to draw him forth. But in all times of trouble--of revolution or national ferment--the perfect Man-emblem is seen to rise, and (which is more to the purpose) is sure to stand at the head of his fellows: for he who best represents the character of his followers, becomes, by G.o.d's appointment, their leader. To this extent, the _vox populi_ is the _vox Dei_; and the unfailing success of every such man, throughout his appointed term, is the best possible justification of the choice.

What was Was.h.i.+ngton, for example, but an epitome of the steady and n.o.ble qualities combined of cavalier and puritan, which were then coalescing in the American character? And what more perfect correspondence could be conceived between the moral and intellectual and the physical outlines?

What was Cromwell but _the Englishman_, not only of his own time, but of all times? And the testimony of all who saw him, what is it, but that a child, who looked upon him, could not fail to see, in his very lineaments, the great and terrible man he was? And Napoleon, was he aught but an abridgment of the French nation, the sublimate and "proof"

essence of French character? Not one, of all the great men of history, has possessed, so far as we know, a physical const.i.tution more perfectly representing, even in its advancing grossness, both the strength and weakness of the people he led.

In tranquil times, these things are not observed in one individual more than in others of his cla.s.s, and we are, therefore, not prepared to decide whether, at such periods, _the one man_ exists. The great Leviathan, the king of all the creatures of the ocean, rises to the surface only in the tumult of the storm; his huge, portentous form, lies on the face of the troubled waters only when the currents are changed and the fountains of the deep are broken up.

Nature does no superfluous work, and it may require the same causes which produce the storm to organize its Ruler. If a great rebellion is boiling among men, the mingling of the elements is projecting, also, the Great Rebel: if a national cause is to be a.s.serted, the principles upon which it rests will first create its appropriate Exponent. But when no such agitation is on the point of breaking out--when the crisis is not near, and the necessity for such greatness distant--national character probably retains its level; and though there be no _one_ whom the people will recognise as the arch-man, the representatives, losing in intensity what they gain in numbers, become a cla.s.s. They fill the civil stations of the country, and are known as men of mark--their opinions are received, their advice accepted, their leading followed. No one of them is known instinctively, or trusted implicitly, as the leader of Nature's appointment: yet they are, in fact, the exponents of their time and race, and in exact proportion to the degree in which they possess the character, will they exhibit, also, the physical peculiarities.

Thus it was at the time of which we are writing, with the cla.s.s to which belonged the politician, and a description of his personal appearance, like that of any other man, will convey no indistinct impression of his internal character.

Such a description probably combined more characteristic adjectives than that of any other personage of his time--adjectives, some of which were applicable to many of his neighbors, respectively, but _all_ of which might be bestowed upon him _only_. He was tall, gaunt, angular, swarthy, active, and athletic. His hair was, invariably, black as the wing of the raven; even in that small portion which the cap of racc.o.o.n-skin left exposed to the action of sun and rain, the gray was but thinly scattered; imparting to the monotonous darkness only a more iron character. As late as the present day, though we have changed in many things, light-haired men seldom attain eminence among the western people: many of our legislators are _young_ enough, but none of them are _beardless_. They have a bilious look, as if, in case of illness, their only hope would lie in calomel and jalap. One might understand, at the first glance, that they are men of _talent_, not of _genius_; and that physical energy, the enduring vitality of the body, has no inconsiderable share in the power of the mind.

Corresponding to the sable of the hair, the politician's eye was usually small, and intensely black--not the dead, inexpressive jet, which gives the idea of a hole through white paper, or of a cavernous socket in a death's-head; but the keen, midnight darkness, in whose depths you can see a twinkle of starlight--where you feel that there is meaning as well as color. There might be an expression of cunning along with that of penetration--but, in a much higher degree, the blaze of irascibility.

There could be no doubt, from its glance, that its possessor was an excellent hater; you might be a.s.sured that he would never forget an injury or betray a friend.

A stoop in the shoulders indicated that, in times past, he had been in the habit of carrying a heavy rifle, and of closely examining the ground over which he walked; but what the chest thus lost in depth it gained in breadth. His lungs had ample s.p.a.ce in which to play--there was nothing pulmonary even in the drooping shoulders. Few of his cla.s.s have ever lived to a very advanced age, but it was not for want of iron-const.i.tutions, that they went early to the grave. The same services to his country, which gave the politician his prominence, also shortened his life.

From shoulders thus bowed, hung long, muscular arms--sometimes, perhaps, dangling a little ungracefully, but always under the command of their owner, and ready for any effort, however violent. These were terminated by broad, bony hands, which looked like grapnels--their grasp, indeed, bore no faint resemblance to the hold of those symmetrical instruments.

Large feet, whose toes were usually turned in, like those of the Indian, were wielded by limbs whose vigor and activity were in keeping with the figure they supported. Imagine, with these peculiarities, a free, bold, rather swaggering gait, a swarthy complexion, and conformable features and tones of voice: and--excepting his costume--you have before your fancy a complete picture of the early western politician.

But the item of costume is too important to be pa.s.sed over with a mere allusion. As well might we paint a mountain without its verdant clothing, its waving plumes of pine and cedar, as the western man without his picturesque and characteristic habiliments. The first, and indispensable article of dress, was the national hunting-s.h.i.+rt: a garment whose easy fit was well-adapted, both to the character of his figure and the freedom of his movements. Its nature did not admit much change in fas.h.i.+on: the only variations of which it was capable, were those of ornament and color. It might be fringed around the cape and skirt, or made plain; it might be blue, or copper-colored--perhaps tinged with a little madder. And the variety of material was quite as limited, since it must be of either jeans or deer-skin.

Corresponding to this, in material, style, and texture, he wore, also, a pair of wide pantaloons--not always of precisely the proper length for the limbs of the wearer, but having invariably a broad waistband, coming up close under the arms, and answering the purpose of the modern vest.

People were not so dainty about "set" and "fit," in those days, as they have since become; and these primitive integuments were equally well-adapted to the figure of any one to whose lot they might fall. In their production, no one had been concerned save the family of the wearer. The sheep which bore the wool, belonged to his own flock, and all the operations, subsequent to the shearing, necessary to the ultimate result of shaping into a garment, had been performed by his wife or daughter. Many politicians have continued this affectation of plainness, even when the necessity has ceased, on account of its effect upon the ma.s.ses; for people are apt to entertain the notion, that decent clothing is incompatible with mental ability, and that he who is most manifestly behind the improvements of the time, is best qualified for official stations.

A neck-cloth, or cravat, was never seen about the politician's throat; and for the same reason of expediency: for these were refinements of affectation which had not then been introduced; and a man who thus compa.s.sed his neck, could no more have been elected to an office, than if he had worn the cap and bells of a Saxon jester. The s.h.i.+rt-bosoms of modern days were in the same category; and _starch_ was an article contraband to the law of public sentiment--insomuch that no epithet expressed more thorough contempt for a man, than the graphic word "starched." A racc.o.o.n-skin cap--or, as a piece of extravagant finery, a white-wool hat--with a pair of heavy shoes, not unfrequently without the luxury of hose--or, if with them, made of blue-woollen yarn, from the back of a sheep of the aforesaid flock--completed the element of costume.

He was not very extravagantly dressed, as the reader sees; but we can say of him--what could not be as truly spoken of many men, or, indeed, of many women, of this day--that his clothing bore distinct reference to his character, and was well-adapted to his "style of beauty." In fact, everything about him, form, face, manners, dress, was in "in keeping"

with his characteristics.

In occupation, he was usually a farmer; for the materials of which popular tribunes are made in later times--such as lawyers, gentlemen of leisure, and pugnacious preachers--were not then to be found. The population of the country was thoroughly agricultural; and though (as I believe I have elsewhere observed) the rural people of the west were neither a cheerful nor a polished race, as a cla.s.s, they possess, even yet, qualities, which, culminating in an individual, eminently fit him for the _role_ of a noisy popular leader.

But a man who is merely fitted to such a position, is a very different animal to one qualified to give laws for the government of the citizen.

After all our vain boasting, that public sentiment is the law of our land, there is really a very broad distinction between forming men's opinions and controlling their action. If the government had been so organized, that the pressure of popular feeling might make itself felt, directly, in the halls of legislation, our history, instead of being that of a great and advancing nation, would have been only a chronicle of factious and unstable violence. It does not follow, that one who is qualified to lead voters at the polls, or, as they say here, "on the stump," will be able to embody, in enlightened enactments, the sentiment which he contributes to form, any more than that the tanner will be able to shape a well-fitting boot from the leather he prepares. "_Suum cuique proprium dat Natura donum_."[82] A blacksmith, therefore, is not the best manufacturer of silver spoons, a lawyer the ablest writer of sermons, nor either of them necessarily the safest law-maker.

But those things to which his qualifications were appropriate, the politician did thoroughly and well. For example, he was a skilful farmer--at least in the leading branches of that calling, though he gave little or no attention to the merely ornamental. For the latter, he had neither time nor inclination. Even in the essentials, it was only by working, as he expressed it, "to the best advantage,"--that is, contriving to produce the largest amount of results with the least expenditure of labor and patience--that he got sufficient leisure to attend to his public duties; and as for "inclination," no quaker ever felt a more supreme contempt for mere embellishment.

He was seldom very happy in his domestic relations; for, excepting at those seasons when the exigencies of his calling required his constant attention, he spent but little of his time at his own fireside. He absented himself _until_ his home became strange and uncomfortable to him: and he then did the same, _because_ it had become so. Every man who may try the experiment will discover that these circ.u.mstances mutually aggravate each other--are, interchangeably, cause and effect. His children were, however, always numerous, scarcely ever falling below half-a-dozen, and not unfrequently doubling that allowance. They generally appeared upon the stage in rapid succession--one had scarcely time to get out of the way, before another was pus.h.i.+ng him from his place. The peevishness thus begotten in the mother--by the constant habit of nursing cross cherubs--though it diminished the amount of family peace, contributed, in another way, to the general welfare: it induced the father to look abroad for enjoyment, and thus gave the country the benefit of his wisdom as a political counsellor. Public spirit, and the consciousness of ability, have "brought out" many politicians: but uncomfortable homes have produced many more.

He was an oracle on the subject of hunting, and an unerring judge of whiskey--to both which means of enjoyment he was strongly attached. He was careful, however, neither to hunt nor drink in solitude, for even his amus.e.m.e.nts were subservient to his political interests. To hunt alone was a waste of time, while drinking alone was a loss of good-fellows.h.i.+p, upon which much of his influence was founded. He was particularly attached to parties of half-a-dozen, or more; for in such companions, his talents were always conspicuous. Around a burgou[83]

pot, or along the trenches of an impromptu barbecue, he shone in meridian splendor; and the approving smack of his lips, over a bottle of "backwoods' nectar," was the seal of the judgment which gave character to the liquor.

"Militia musters" were days in his calendar, "marked with a white-stone;" for it was upon these occasions that he appeared in his utmost magnificence. His grade was never lower than that of colonel, and it not unfrequently extended to, or even beyond, the rank of brigadier-general. It was worth "a sabbath-day's journey" on foot, to witness one of these parades; for I believe that all the annals of the burlesque do not furnish a more amusing caricature of the "pomp and circ.u.mstance" of war. Compared to one of those militia regiments, Falstaff's famous corps, whose appearance was so unmilitary as to prevent even that liberal-minded gentleman from marching through Coventry in their company, was a model of elegance and discipline.

Sedeno's cavalry in the South American wars, though their uniform consisted only of "leggings," a pair of spurs, and a Spanish blanket, had more the aspect of a regular _corps d'armee_ than these! A mob of rustics was never armed with a more extensive variety of weapons; and no night's "haul" of a recruiting sergeant's net, ever made a more disorderly appearance, when mustered in the morning for inspection.