Download ^Andrew Johnson and the Philadelphia Election of 1866

^Andrew Johnson and the Philadelphia
Election of 1866
T
image of Andrew Johnson's campaign tour
during the congressional elections of 1866—the "swing
around the circle," as it was called—is one of an ill-tempered,
illiterate, semi-insane, and thoroughly undignified President thrashing madly through the North, harassed on all sides by gangs of
ruffians instigated by the Radicals. The conclusion is that Johnson
failed politically because he was unable to present his ideas in a
sufficiently decorous manner. But it is questionable, when all is said
and done, that political success is the natural result of political dignity. Certainly, the utterances of Thad Stevens or, better yet, Ben
Butler during this campaign were not notably dignified, and, in any
case, Johnson had spoken often in the North during the war and had
been well received. What this suggests is that perhaps the real clue to
his failure, in Philadelphia in particular and in the North in general,
lies in what he was saying rather than in any fault of delivery. The
essential issue was that of the Negro.
The status of the Negro (the basic issue of Reconstruction and
therefore of the 1866 election) was not decided in isolation but rather
within the apprehensive atmosphere of the i86o's. Thus the "swing
around the circle" should be viewed in the context of the Negro
question and the general anxiety of the northern voter.
The stage for the congressional elections of 1866 had been set by
the clash between President Johnson and Congress in the spring of
that year. By the time the 39th Congress adjourned in July, it was
quite evident that the President had lost the first round. The Radicals had succeeded in marshalling enough votes to pass a Freedman's
Bureau Bill and a Civil Rights Bill over his veto, and had proposed
the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution.
Foiled in Congress, Johnson looked to the fall elections for an opportunity to recover lost ground. As had been his custom from the
earliest days of his political experience in Tennessee, the President
HE TRADITIONAL
365
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
determined to carry his fight to the people, confident that they would
respond favorably, as indeed they always had.
Early in June he had accepted an invitation to attend the cornerstone ceremony for a monument to the late Senator Stephen A.
Douglas. Before long the idea emerged of expanding this trip to
Chicago into a campaign tour of the North. The presidential party,
including the military heroes Grant and Farragut as well as several
cabinet officials, would go to Chicago by way of Baltimore, Philaphia, New York, Albany, Buffalo, and Cleveland, making whistle
stops at smaller towns along the way.
The policy which Johnson was planning to carry to Philadelphia
and the other northern cities reflected a deep psychological conflict
within the President. Consistent with his background as a Jacksonian Democrat, he bore a deep-seated desire to raise the status of the
southern poor white and a correspondingly intense antagonism to the
special privilege of the slaveholding aristocracy.1
For Johnson's purposes, the abolition of slavery seemed an ideal
means of helping the poor white. The emancipation of slaves, he remarked, would "break down an odious and dangerous aristocracy . . .
[and] free more whites than blacks in Tennessee."2 In this frame of
mind, he became one of the most vehement advocates of a harsh
policy toward the southern confederacy which was dominated by
that slaveholding gentry he hated.
But his plans for a postwar southern society based upon greater
economic and social equality had one tragic flaw: they contained no
provision for the Negro. At this point his Jacksonianism, basically
a secular, materialistic philosophy, fell apart. Faced with the highly
emotional, moral dilemma of Negro equality, it proved no better
guide to Johnson than it had to the Democratic Party in i860.
Johnson, like the Democrats, found himself in an irreconcilable
quandry.
He had never been more than secondarily interested in the Negro;
emancipation was merely a convenient method of crushing the slave1 For the best account of Johnson's Jacksonian philosophy, see Kenneth Stampp, Era of
Reconstruction, 1865-1877 (New York, 1965), 50-82.
2
Quoted by Claude Bowers, The Tragic Era (Cambridge, 1929), 34. For the best account
of Johnson and the Negro during Reconstruction, see La Wanda and John Cox, Politics, Principle, and Prejudice, 1865-1866: The Dilemma of Reconstruction America (New York, 1963).
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF I 8 6 6
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holder. It had not been so much a question of helping the Negro, but
of helping the poor white. It became evident, however, that a rise in
the status of the poor white by abolition also meant a rise in the
status of the Negro. Here Johnson balked. It had been all well and
good to talk of equality between white gentry and white small
farmers, but to include the Negro in that equality was quite another
matter. So it was that he vetoed the Freedman's Bureau Bill and the
Civil Rights Bill in the spring of 1866.
Of course, many others shared Johnson's seemingly contradictory
phobias for the southern slaveholder and the slave. Yet Johnson alone
was forced, despite what must have been a great sense of personal
frustration, to articulate a policy—and it had to be done by the time
he left for Chicago. Yet, in a real sense, Johnson never resolved that
dilemma: his "swing around the circle" showed again and again that
he was simply avoiding the realities and focusing on constitutional
technicalities. The result was that he was unable to speak meaningfully to either those favoring Negro equality or to those opposing it.
In Johnson's state of perplexity, it was not at all atypical for him
to seek to redirect himself to a different, and less exasperating goal,
one that seemed to embody good political strategy. He decided to
take his stand on the Constitution and the Union; certainly no one
could oppose him on those points. If the nation was fearful of war, he
would speak of peace and the Union. If the nation was anxious about
the future, he would talk of stability and the Constitution. There was
no need to stir up controversy or further fears. It was easier to forget,
forget the Negro and the Rebels, in fact, forget the whole frustrating
war. What could be safer than to stand with one foot firmly on the
Constitution, the other on the Union, and speak of peace?
The Radical Republicans, however, were not to permit Johnson's
evasive strategy to pass unnoticed. "They forget the 300,000 graves
of our slain, and the hundred glorious battlefields, of the war" one
was to deplore. "They forget it, but we do not."3 The Radicals also
recognized the inseparable connection between the status of the
southern white and the Negro. Yet for them it held the promise of fulfillment rather than frustration. It is a hard and extremely crucial
3 Speech at the Southern Loyalists' Convention, Sept. 3, 1866, by Horace Maynard, Public
Ledger, Sept. 4, 1866. All newspapers listed in the notes were printed in Philadelphia unless
otherwise noted.
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
fact of the entire Civil War and Reconstruction period that the majority of the northern voters shared Johnson's Negrophobia and did
not favor racial equality. As William D. Kelley of Pennsylvania
candidly remarked: "The enemy that we are grappling with is pride
of race, unchristian and anti-republican prejudice against all races of
men save our own."4
For the Radicals, then, fear of the South became the phobia which
they would use to camouflage their desire for Negro equality. They
would exploit the fear of the South and do everything possible to
minimize the fear of the Negro. So long as nothing aroused the latent
northern antipathy for the Negro, the strategy was perfect. The
Radicals' greatest fear was that Johnson would force the Negro issue
into the campaign. If the President was going to avoid the Negro, the
Radicals were, for once, happy to follow his lead.
It is this combination of contradictory fears which holds the key
to an understanding of the Philadelphia which Johnson was about
to visit. In the summer of 1866 Philadelphia was an uneasy city.
Each day the two-penny newspapers carried reports on the progress
of the cholera epidemic in the Mid-West. August 20: 648 had died
during the past week in St. Louis alone and there was talk of the
epidemic spreading eastward. August 27: the death toll in St. Louis
was 919, unofficial estimates for the week were running as high as
1,300. Cincinnati had been hit with the cholera and had declared a
state of ^emergency. Then came the horrible reality: five were dead in
Philadelphia; the next day seven more had died and twenty-one new
cases of cholera had been discovered. Where would it stop? What
was the health department going to do ?5
The spread of the cholera panic to Philadelphia was symbolic of
the myriad of fears and uncertainties the citizens of the city faced
that summer. Philadelphians followed the progress of the Fenian
raids along the Canadian border and read about the President's decision to arrest the Irish-American leaders. They read about Maximilian and the threats of war with Mexico. And ever before them,
like a nightmare that refused to vanish with the dawn, was the South.
Reports of unrest poured in from the old confederacy. "No man,"
a southerner wrote to William D. Kelley, "is safe here from assassina4
Quoted by Ira V. Brown, "William D. Kelley and Radical Reconstruction," Pennsylvania
Magazine of History and Biography (PMHB), LXXXV (1961), 322-323.
5 Public Ledger and Inquirer, Aug. 15-20, 1866.
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tion by night or by day who is deemed useful to the cause of Congress
or opposed to that of the President and Jefferson Davis."6
To anyone reading the newspapers, it seemed that this was true.
Day after day reports of southern atrocities poured into the consciousness of Philadelphians. A northern clergyman had been murdered in Missouri. Three loyalists were lynched in Kentucky. In
Virginia a barbarous "Female F.F.V." had stripped her freed slaves
naked, whipped them and seared their bodies with hot coals. A
Freedman's Bureau officer had been beaten right in his own office by
the mayor of Nashville. In Savannah, two Union soldiers had been
found dead with a note pinned to their chests: "THUS THE SOUTH
RETALIATES."7
Of course, everyone had read about the terrible riots in New Orleans. Week after week the newspapers carried the tales of "America's
St. Bartholomew's." Radicals accused the President of starting the
riot; the President accused the Radicals. Investigation followed investigation and charge followed charge through the printer's ink,
searing deeply into the public mind.8
Perhaps the confederacy was planning to rise again. Former Rebel
leaders were appearing everywhere. General Forrest had been elected
to head a convention in Memphis, and Texas had elected the chairman of its secession convention to Congress.9 Even President
Johnson was a southerner. The Rebels still seemed very terrifying.
Had not Colonel William B. Thomas had to mobilize the Philadelphia militia and drill them three times a day to prepare for the
Johnson Convention, the National Union movement, when all those
Rebels were in the city early in August?10 Harper s Weekly showed
Jeff Davis lounging in prison, fanned by servants, and sipping cool
tea.11 Certainly one had cause to wonder.
But these were not the only disconcerting reports from the South.
The aAge carried a front-page story describing Negroes howling
through the streets, "firing indiscriminately upon the whites . . .
6 Inquirer', Aug. 25, 1866.
7 Inquirer, Aug. 9, 1866; Press, July 22, 1866; North American, Aug. 30, 1866.
8 Information on the New Orleans riots received daily coverage with only minor exceptions
in every Philadelphia newspaper from the first of August until election day in October.
9 North American, Aug. 30, 1866; Inquirer, Aug. 28, 1866.
10 Roy F. Nichols, "A Great Party Which Might Have Been Born in Philadelphia,"
PMHB, LVII (1933), 3^.
11
Harper's Weekly, June 30, 1866.
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
and citizens fleeing to the woods for safety."12 This too struck terror
into the minds of Philadelphians.
It was not difficult to imagine such a scene in their city. In South
Philadelphia, Southwark, and Moyamensing were 15,000 colored
persons. Racial riots had raged through the streets of Philadelphia in
1834, 1835, J$3%> l%42> a n d 1849. ^ n a c l t y where no publisher could
be found for Uncle Horn's Cabin the want of sympathy for the Negro
was all too apparent.13
The most obvious form of local prejudice was the ruling barring
Negro riders from the street cars. Of course they could hang on the
side if they chose, but never could they enter the cars. Just a year
earlier, in 1865, the street car lines had taken a poll on the matter
and Philadelphians had soundly rejected Negro riders.14
A problem of this type naturally had political potential. The
Democrats habitually alluded to the matter in their campaigns. The
c/fg-tf, Philadelphia's Democratic organ, worked diligently in 1866 to
stir up latent Negrophobia.15
If the local Democrats realized the value of anti-Negro sentiment,
the Radicals feared its effect on their campaign. Earlier, in 1863,
Philadelphia's reaction to the Emancipation Proclamation had come
close to unseating Governor Andrew Curtin, and probably would
have done so had the victory at Gettysburg not overshadowed it.16
The semi-official Radical campaign club in Philadelphia, the
Union League, was very careful of the Negro issue. Its members had
hesitated several times before attempting to organize a company of
Negro troops in Philadelphia. When Negro troops finally did march
through the city in 1863, Mayor Alexander Henry was fearful they
would be attacked by whites. In an attempt to calm the protests of
V* Age, Aug. 10, 1866.
13 Ellis Oberholtzer, Philadelphia: A History of the City and its People, A Record of 225 Years
(Philadelphia, 1912), II, 281-291; John Read to George Cadwalader, July 24, 1863, Cadwalader Collection, Historical Society of Pennsylvania; William Dusinberre, Civil War Issues
in Philadelphia, 1856-1865 (Philadelphia, 1965), 21.
14
Ira V. Brown, "Pennsylvania and the Rights of the Negro, 1865-1870," Pennsylvania
History, XXVIII (1961), 48; Equal Rights League Minute Book, American Negro Historical
Society Papers, HSP.
15 Age, Aug. 14, 1866.
16 Dusinberre, 154-160, 171; Erwin S. Bradley, Triumph of Militant Republicanism: A
Study of Pennsylvania and Presidential Politics, 1860-187'2 (Philadelphia, 1964), 152,178.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF I 8 6 6
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such conservatives, the Negroes marched without arms and, despite
some heckling, no serious trouble erupted.17
By 1866 the question had evolved into one of Negro rights and
Negro suffrage. In a speech at the Philadelphia Johnson Club, a conservative remarked that "the white race alone is entitled to the control of the government of the republic."18 The oAge warned that if the
Radicals gained control they would allow Negroes to vote in Pennsylvania.19 A Democratic Soldiers' and Sailors' Convention, meeting
in Harrisburg, resolved "that we are opposed to negro suffrage and
all legislation that has for its object the raising of the negro to social
or political equality with the white man. . . ."20
It seemed that Philadelphia feared the Negro as much, if not more,
than it feared the South. The zAge worked eagerly to ensure that the
Negro question would be the key issue in 1866. An zAge editorial
proudly laid down the challenge:
[Negro equality] is a notion wholly false and pernicious. This is our opinion,
frankly spoken, of the Negro equality "which the Republicans are laboring
to realize." We are willing to make it a "test question." Let no candidate
for office evade it.21
But this was exactly what Andrew Johnson planned to do.
The presidential party left Washington's Baltimore and Ohio
Station for Philadelphia, their first major stop on the northern tour,
early on the morning of August 28. Secretaries Browning and
McCulloch saw the party off but did not accompany the President
as they had originally promised. Stanton, his wife ill (Welles thought
conveniently so), also begged off.22 Nonetheless, Johnson was accompanied by an illustrious group, including cabinet members Seward,
Welles, and Randall, in addition to the war heroes Grant and
Farragut.
!7 George Lathrop, History of the Union League of Philadelphia from its Origin and Foundation to the Year 1882 (Philadelphia, 1884), 75-77, 79-81; Alexander Henry to George Cadwalader, July 30, 1863, Cadwalader Collection.
1 8 ^ , Aug. 16, 1866.
10 Ibid., Aug. 14, 1866.
20
Inquirer, Aug. 2, 1866.
2 1 ^ , Aug. 14, 1866.
22 Public Ledger, Aug. 1% 1866; Gideon Welles, Diary of Gideon Welles (Boston, 1911),
II, 587.
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
Meanwhile, in Philadelphia last minute efforts were being made to
see that all was in readiness for the President's visit. The plans were
under the direction of General George Gordon Meade, commander
of the Philadelphia military district. Meade assembled contingents
of regulars, volunteers, marines, and cavalry to accord the proper
military honors to the Commander in Chief.23
Meade also encouraged civilian officials to participate in greeting
Johnson. However, the Mayor of Philadelphia, Morton McMichael,
planned to be conveniently out of town. The official explanation was
that the Radical mayor was exhausted from his war-time activities
and this was the only chance for a vacation before fall.24 The Democratic zAge professed sorrow for this poor "soldier resting from war's
alarms—a Mayor in repose, worn out with hard municipal service,
broken down by reading city ordinances and visiting police stations. . . ." It hoped that he would not overexert himself hurrying
back to attend the Radical convention scheduled for the next week!25
In the Mayor's absence, a group of 200 merchants had assembled
the day before in the Merchant's Exchange to ensure that Johnson
be properly welcomed. (Significantly this group was led by the president of the discriminatory Chestnut and Walnut Street Railway.)
The merchants elected a committee of thirteen to attend to the details and to represent them the next day.26
But if the members of the Merchant's Exchange showed eagerness
for the President's visit, such was not the case with most of the city's
merchants. The Corn Exchange and the Stock Board refused to adjourn even on the day of his visit.27 The absence of these key merchants and city officials serves as a reminder of the unfriendly
political situation Johnson faced in the North.
The Radicals had gained control of the 39th Congress and the
Republican Party during the spring and summer of 1866. Having
captured the initiative, they pulled with them local party organizations and a major portion of the influential citizens and newspapers.
23 Public Ledgery Aug. 29, 1866.
24 Press, North American, Aug. 29, 1866.
25 Age, Aug. 31, 1866. Seward was quoted as commenting later in New York: "Blessed is
that city that can dispense with a ruler." Ibid,
26 North American, Aug. 28, 1866.
27 Evening Bulletin, Aug. 28, 1866; North American, Aug. 29, 1866.
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Johnson's task, and by no means an easy one, was to reverse this
leftward movement. It would not be enough for his "swing around
the circle" to maintain present support; he had to create additional
strength, a task which called for bold, decisive action.
The Radical strength in Philadelphia in August, 1866, was considerable but not insurmountable. Mayor McMichael and the majority of the Select and Common Councils were Republicans aligned
with the Radicals. McMichael and many of these men were closely
connected with the Union League. McMichael himself owned and
edited the North American, a pro-Radical daily catering almost exclusively to the commercial interests in the city.28
More influential in propagating Radical ideas among the masses
were James Forney's 'Press and the Inquirer, a two-penny daily.29
Both of these papers stressed the New Orleans riots in all their gory
detail and dwelt upon the impending rise of the Rebels. Forney, the
"dead duck" of Johnson's Washington Birthday speech, was also
harsh in his personal attack on the President, at times accusing him
of drunkenness.30
The two evening papers, the Evening "Bulletin and the Evening
Telegraph leaned toward the Radicals, although in a much more restrained manner. Their editorials generally included complicated
logical arguments, allusions to Shakespeare's Othello, and untranslated quotations from French Enlightenment philosophers. With
their literary columns, articles on Paris fashions and pearl culture,
they, like the North American, were directed toward a restricted,
although undoubtedly influential, audience.
At stake in the elections that fall were the governorship of Pennsylvania, seats in the House of Representatives and positions in the
state legislature. Local and state issues were virtually nonexistent.
The candidates aligned themselves according to their views on Reconstruction and seemed willing to stand or fall on that basis.
The Republicans nominated John White Geary as their gubernatorial candidate. Geary, long a Democrat, had been induced to ac28 McMichael's paper was a large blanket sheet (24" x 30") and was sold by subscription
only, not in the streets. Elwyn Robinson, "The North American," PMHB, LXIV U 9 4 ° ) J
34S-3SS-
29 Elwyn Robinson, "The Press," ibid., LXIV (1941), 157-170.
30
See, for instance, Press, Aug. 27, 1866.
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
cept the nomination by his neighbor, Radical Congressman John
Covode of Westmoreland County. His prime qualification was his
adventurous, if not always illustrious, record as Mayor of San
Francisco, Governor of "Bleeding Kansas," and Union general who
fought at Gettysburg and accompanied Sherman to the sea.31
The Democrats nominated Heister Clymer, a handsome, gentlemanly lawyer. The Princeton-educated Clymer was articulate and
competent, but unfortunately he was not a military hero. Clymer
had the support of the Johnson Republicans led by the renegade
Senator Edgar Cowan.32
Despite the fact that Clymer had spent the war in the state senate
rather than on the battlefield, the picture was not entirely black.
Johnson and his followers enjoyed the support of a series of "JohnsonClymer Clubs" which, although not so well organized as the Union
League, were none the less formidable. They also had the support of
two key Philadelphia newspapers.
The most openly pro-Johnson of these was the <*Age. Admittedly
anti-Negro, this paper worked diligently to exploit the fear of the
Negro, but was handicapped by the President's silence on that issue.
Johnson also enjoyed the more guarded support of the Tublic J^edger,
Philadelphia's second two-penny daily. Although avowedly independent, its treatment of news items was favorable to Johnson. It
followed the President's basic line of peace, Union, and the Constitution and seemed as adept as he was at avoiding controversy. It is
interesting to note that the silent partner in the Tublic ledger's
management was A. J. Drexel, chairman of the merchants' thirteenman committee to welcome Andrew Johnson.33
Drexel's committee held its final meeting early on the morning of
August 28 to consolidate its plans for Johnson's visit. Drexel and
eight others then went to Wilmington to meet the President there
and accompany him to the city, where he was due to arrive at one
o'clock that afternoon.34
31 Bradley, 261, 263, 267.
32 Ibid.) 261, 268-272; B. F. Pershing, "Senator Edgar Cowan," Western "Pennsylvania
Historical Magazine', IV (1921), 224-233.
33 Public Ledger, Aug. 29, 1866; Elwyn Robinson, "The Public Ledger," PMHB, LXIV
(1940), 43-5534 Public Ledger, Aug. 29, 1866.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF 1866
375
By noon, when the military and civilian welcoming committees
arrived at the Broad and Pine Street Depot, a large crowd had already gathered. The President was late but even the long wait under
a broiling August sun did not diminish the jovial spirits of the throng.
It could even laugh at its premature hurrahs for two freight trains.35
Finally, an hour and a half behind schedule, the presidential
special steamed into the station. Meade stamped out his cigar, disappeared into the car, and returned with President Johnson. Immediately the crowd gave three cheers and the band struck up "Hail
to the Chief."36
When the music and uproar subsided, Colonel A. J. Page, sporting
his special silk badge designating him as one of the official committee,
welcomed Johnson as the "chosen Chief Magistrate of a mighty and
free people." Johnson tendered his "sincere and heartfelt thanks."
He had been pleased to notice an allusion in Page's remarks to peace
and was certainly in agreement:
We have had war; now we shall have peace; and I may say that every effort
has been and will continue to be made by me to bring about peace to our
distracted country. Again I thank you for the welcome you have extended
to me.37
Two cannon boomed a twenty-one-gun salute while Johnson,
carrying his black hat, made his way with Seward, Grant, and
Farragut into a four-horse barouche. In a few minutes the entourage
began to move up Broad Street.38
By any standard the crowds and the procession would have been
creditable; considering the spontaneity of the affair both were remarkable. Police, firemen, sailors, seven musical groups, marines,
35 Ibid., Age, Press, Aug. 29, 1866. Bowers (p. 131) insists that this discrepancy in time was
a deliberate trick by the Radicals to put out false information to prevent the reception of
Johnson. There is no evidence of this in Philadelphia papers, and pro-Johnson dailies made no
such accusations. Rather, they preferred to explain the delay by the large crowds to the south,
an explanation supported by the telegraph dispatches.
36 Public Ledger', Inquirer, Age, Press, Aug. 29, 1866.
37 Public Ledger, Aug. 29, 1866. All Johnson quotations are taken from the Public Ledger.
There is some variance in the detail of his remarks among the various dailies. A great deal of
this is due to the difficulty of hearing in the crowd; the reporter of the Evening Bulletin admits
as much. The Press and Age seem to have touched up his speech to suit their own purposes.
38 Ibid.
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
National Guard, political clubs, and a very proud Journeymen
Tailors' Protective Association escorted the President up a flagbedecked Broad Street, past the empty Union League House, down
Chestnut to the Continental Hotel.39
The crowd filled Chestnut Street for two blocks on either side of
the hotel and offered cheer after cheer for "Andy," Seward, Grant,
and Farragut when they appeared on the balcony. In response to
cries for a speech Johnson stepped to the front of the balcony as the
crowd quieted.40
Johnson's speech, the first major expression of "My Policy" on the
"swing around the circle," had two major themes. First was an
emphasis on peace.
We have passed through a fierce and bloody conflict. We clamored and
struggled for peace. The war is now over; peace has been made. I trust in
God that war will not return again. [Cheers] . . . and that prosperity,
harmony and reconciliation will bless the land. . . .
The second and complementary theme was an appeal to forget the
troubles of the past, to turn away from radicals who formed leagues
(that is, Union Leagues) to "subvert the Constitution of the Union,"
and to return to the solid and true government based upon the Constitution and the Union. Whatever else, "let us stand together around
the common altar of our country, and swear that all shall perish, all
shall fall into the dust, but the Constitution and the Union of these
States shall be preserved. [Cheers]"
A good deal of his Jacksonianism continued to slip through when
he advised the laboring classes to rise against political tyranny, and
when he wondered what had become of the good old doctrine of
"rotation in office." Above all, his great faith in the common man to
choose wisely at the polls was evident. He avoided directing the
people how to vote. Although he referred to the Union League as a
conspiracy, almost as a jest, he never associated himself with the
Johnson-Clymer Clubs or the Democratic candidates for office.
Rather, he urged the people to rise above the "behest of party." He
was certain that they would choose wisely.
39 North American, Age, Press, Aug. 29, 1866.
40 The account of Johnson at the Continental Hotel is taken from the Public Ledger, Aug.
29, 1866.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF I 866
377
Peace, Union, and the Constitution, these were his key words and
on that basis "let us stand together; let us approach a common platform; let us forget that we have been divided. . . ." But it was
difficult to forget. The newspapers, New Orleans, all the political
orations, the stories of southern violence one heard as he walked
along the street made it virtually impossible. Even while the President was speaking it was all too easy to let one's eyes stray to the
side where General Grant, Admiral Farragut, and General Meade
were standing. And there on the other side of the President was
Seward with the assassin's scar plainly visible on his lean face. It was
much easier to remember. That was what the Radicals were depending upon.
After his speech, Johnson retired inside the hotel and was feted at
a banquet. Early in the evening he agreed to shake hands and stood
for more than an hour greeting a seemingly unending line of people
filing through the lobby. By eight o'clock Chestnut Street was again
filled with people and Johnson returned to the balcony to listen to
the serenade by the Young Maennenchor Singing Society. After
making a few light remarks to the ever-present Journeymen Tailors'
Protective Association and again thanking the crowd for its hospitality, the President bade them good night.
Early the next morning, Johnson rode to the Walnut Street Wharf
and boarded a ferry for the New Jersey side. His departure was almost unnoticed. As such, it was almost too symbolic; a day or so
later, his visit had slipped just as quietly out of the newspapers.
The Radical papers of August 29 carried the details of the visit but
tended to minimize its importance. The Tress, for instance, said it
created "far less excitement than a new circus, and awaken[edl no
more genuine enthusiasm."41 The Jiprth ^American conceded that the
parade was good and at least Johnson had provided some excitement
on an otherwise dull day.42 The Evening ^Bulletin, always quick to
catch any inconsistency in the speeches of its opponents, delighted in
reprinting a speech Johnson made in Philadelphia in 1863 when he
said "There is only one way to meet traitors, and that is to meet
them at the threshhold and if nothing else will do, to throttle and
hang them." Which, they wondered, was the real Andy? But on the
41 Press, Aug. 29, 1866.
North American, Aug. 29, 1866.
42
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CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
whole the bulletin's attention that day was given to a riot at Sing
Sing Prison and another Fenian raid along the Canadian border.43
Contrary to what one might expect from the popular historical
notion, there was no real attack on the President. Rather, the Philadelphia Radicals were content, even eager, to portray his visit to the
city as dull and insignificant.
The Radical papers in Philadelphia treated the rest of the "swing
around the circle" in the same manner. Even James Forney's headline marking the end of the presidential trip—"OH MY, THE LONG
AGONY OVER!"—was directed not so much against any vulgarity
but against the boring, irrelevant, nature of the whole business.44 But
this, of course, is the supreme insult for a politician; his words were
not even important enough to merit a rebuttal.
In case Johnson's tour had misled anyone as to the real issue in the
campaign, Petroleum V. Nasby was to remind them of what was at
stake. Nasby, who was serving as Johnson's "chaplain" on the tour,
suddenly had to leave the President and return to "Confederit X
Roads" because "there is five Northern families near the Corners
wich must hev notice to leave, and eight niggers to hang."45 In brief,
the President's trip was not going to be allowed to disturb the
"bloody shirt" strategy.
In Philadelphia Johnson's recent presence was quickly overshadowed by the vociferous Republican nominating caucuses for
congressional candidates and the Southern Loyalist Convention
which met there on September 3. Again the "bloody shirt" was
waved freely. The conventioners spoke at length about "Rebel Reconstruction," the "Massacre of New Orleans," and the "Rebeljohns." They ignored Johnson's trip except for oblique attacks such
as posting Stephen A. Douglas' slogan that "There can be no neutrals—only patriots or traitors."46 Philadelphia's Radicals continued
to whip up fear of the South until the very day of the election. In the
midst of this political activity, the effectiveness of Johnson's appearance in Philadelphia was lost.
43 Evening Bulletin, Aug. 29, 1866.
44 Press, Sept. 16, 1866.
45 Petroleum V. Nasby [D. R. Locke], "Swingin Round the Cirkle" (Boston, 1867), 221.
The Nasby letters were carried in the Press in Philadelphia.
46 Public Ledger, Press, Sept. 4, 1866.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF 1 8 6 6
379
Naturally, one would not have expected the Radicals to be joyful
about his visit and a cold sort of treatment in the Radical newspapers
was probably anticipated. More revealing of the utter failure of
Johnson's "swing around the circle" was the response of Philadelphia's other two newspapers, the Tublic J^edger and the oAge. If the
President had not been able to give ammunition to the Radical
Republican press, he had not given the journals inclined to support
him anything substantial either. So slight was the political impact
of his visit that two days later one would hardly have known he had
been in Philadelphia.
The Democratic papers found themselves caught up in the whirlwind of Radical propaganda streaming from the Southern Loyalist
Convention without the slightest help from Johnson. He had not met
with the Johnson-Clymer Clubs; he had not even mentioned Heister
Clymer or any other candidate for that matter. Lacking encouragement from him, the Tublic J^edger continued to equivocate for a time
before edging more and more into the Radical camp.
The oAge faced the controversy just as if Johnson had never been
on the scene. Its Negrophobia increased as election time approached.
Fred Douglass* appearance at the September 3 convention appalled
the paper, and even more horrifying was the fact that he had actually
been cheered! Satirically, the oAge expressed pleasure that Morton
McMichael had "recuperated" sufficiently to extend the city's official
welcome to the "distinguished" Douglass. The Radicals had indeed
begun to "show their colors."47
The editors of the zAge began to address their columns to "White
Union Men" and "White Boys in Blue." They wrote long, vivid editorials pointing out the horrors of Negro rule in Haiti. The Radicals,
they claimed, were running a "Torch and Turpentine" campaign and
Geary's words "smelled of gunpowder." Stevens and his fellow
Radicals were planning to arm and organize the Negroes to "give
the North a taste of St. Domingo."48 To Philadelphians well aware
of the Negro population south of Walnut Street, these words carried
a stern warning.
They also caused considerable alarm in the Radical camp. The
Negro question was precisely what the Radicals were trying to avoid.
^ Age, Sept. 4, 1866.
48 Ibid., Sept. 29, Oct. 2, 3, 4, 1866.
380
CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
Yet if they had been able to scoff off Johnson's accusations that they
were attempting to overthrow the government and finish the Union,
these charges against the Negroes were too serious and too dangerous
to allow to pass unanswered. The Svening Telegraph, for example,
viewed such barbs as simply Democratic confusion. It was quite
evident that the Fourteenth Amendment merely protected the
Negro against the Rebels. The Amendment did not mean that the
Negro was going to vote, or sit on a jury, and certainly not to hold
office. It was primarily aimed at punishing Confederates.49
James Forney, editor of the 'Press, addressed a political rally on
September 23. He was beginning to wonder what was the matter
with intelligent Philadelphians. Had they forgotten the crimes of the
Rebels and the long years of the war? "Why gentlemen, when
I hear a Union man expressing alarm at the idea of letting a negro
vote, and closing his eyes to all these considerations, I sometimes
doubt whether we are living in the age of newspapers and common
schools."50 How could one allow his vote to be swayed by such trivial
matters as suffrage when the Rebels had been disloyal, had lied to
God, assassinated our President, and murdered our prisoners? Even
the Negro had not done this. "The real question," the Press reminded its readers on election morning, "is whether traitors or loyal
men shall rule the country."51
The election campaign had become a contest of fear versus fear:
fear of the Negro against a fear of the South. In this frenzy of emotion, Johnson's pleas for peace and stability were lost. It is one of the
curiosities of human behavior that in a time when the northern
people were anxiously searching for stability and peace, they considered the one person offering reconciliation irrelevant to their
problem. In the traumatic postwar world, a people in search of peace
found it more satisfying to lash out with all their pent-up emotion at
whomever or whatever they thought to be the cause of their trouble,
be it Johnson or the Radicals, the Negro or the South. It is a rather
simple principle that it is easier to agitate than to calm a fearful mass
of voters. There lies the key to the failure of Andrew Johnson's
"swing around the circle."
49 Evening Telegraph, Sept. 27, 1866.
50 Evening Bulletin, Sept. 23, 1866.
51 Press > Oct. 9, 1866.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF I 8 6 6
38 I
The campaign of 1866 was one of the most bitterly fought and
most violent in the history of American political contests. In Philadelphia, as early as September 7, tempers were so raw that the Union
League House was attacked and burned by a conservative mob.52
From this point the fury of the campaign continued to mount until
the October 9 election date. The partisan dailies gravitated to increasingly vicious extremes. The Press, remembering that Gettysburg had turned the tide for Curtin in 1863, refought the battle in all
its bloody glory in a series of Sunday features, strategically coming to
the climax just before election day.
About a week and a half before the election, the Republican press
played its trump card. It printed (and continued to do so daily until
election Tuesday) a quotation which it claimed reflected General
Grant's opinion of Heister Clymer: "To ask any soldier to vote for
such a man, of at one time known disloyalty, against another who
had served four years in the Union army with credit to himself and
benefit to his country, was a gross insult."53
The <tAge was understandably furious. Geary was only the "hero of
Snickersville," it charged. The Radicals were all miscegenationists.
The editors of the zAge also had their quotation from Grant which
they printed frantically some fifteen to twenty times a day until the
election: "No man living is authorized to speak for me in political
matters. I want every man to vote according to his own judgment,
without influence from me."54
In the midst of charges and countercharges, claims and counterclaims, cries of racial rule and cries of rebel rule, Philadelphians went
to the polls. When the results were tabulated it was clear that the
Republicans had won nearly every position, although by a decidedly
smaller margin than in 1864.
But if the Democratic forces and their conservative Republican
allies had come close to defeating the Radical candidates, "closeness" was not going to reverse the congressional balance. In the
midst of the prevailing anxiety and fear, the "bloody shirt" had
triumphed. The crucial factor in this result was Andrew Johnson's
52 Lathrop, 96-97.
63
Evening Bulletin, Oct. 2,1866; see also the Press and the Inquirer just prior to the election
for examples of this usage.
*>*Age, Oct. 3-9, 1866.
382
CHARLES D. CASHDOLLAR
July
insistence on running a nonemotional campaign in an emotional
election. Somehow, when all the fear and tensions were counted up as
votes, Johnson's abstractions of Constitutional Unionism simply did
not matter.
Rather obviously, the only fear in Philadelphia that could compare with the terror of the South in 1866 was the dread of Negro
equality. It is interesting, and not a little helpful, at this point to
speculate on what might have happened had a purely Machiavellian
Johnson stressed his views on this issue and thrown the power and
prestige of the presidency behind the efforts of the Johnson-Clymer
partisans. One need only recall the refusal of Philadelphians to allow
Negroes to ride their streetcars in a vote but a short time before to
visualize the possibilities. Certainly the Radicals were anxious to
divert attention from the status of the Negro.
Even more suggestive of lost political possibilities is that in the
following year, when the question of Negro suffrage was being discussed in the state legislature and those who had been elected in 1866
were talking about allowing Negroes on the streetcars, the Democrats won the election. James Buchanan recognized the lesson inherent in the returns: "The opposition to J^egro Suffrage in the South,
as well as in the North, has been the principal cause of our triumph
everywhere. Abandon this, & we are gone."55
It was becoming increasingly clear that the Radical victory in
1866, not only in Philadelphia but throughout a large portion of the
North, had been achieved only because of their ability to avoid the
Negro issue and to camouflage the racial implications of the Fourteenth Amendment. James Forney, brooding over the Republican
defeat in 1867, recognized the warning. "I saw enough," he wrote,
"to convince me that unless we could secure some good strong name
the Republican party was bankrupt."56 There was going to be more
work for the "bloody shirt" in 1868.
David Donald in his recent study of Reconstruction, characterized
Johnson as a "virtuoso of politics," avoiding controversy and keeping
his views so vague that everyone could support them.57 In truth,
55 Buchanan to Augustus Schell, Nov. 9, 1867, John Bassett Moore, ed., The Works of
James Buchanan (Philadelphia, 1910), XI, 455.
56 John W. Forney, Anecdotes of Public Men (New York, 1873), 286,
57 David Donald, The Politics of Reconstruction, 1863-1867 (Baton Rouge, 1965), 23.
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PHILADELPHIA ELECTION OF I 8 6 6
383
everyone could, but in the height of the emotional tension, not
enough did. Johnson was essentially a warmed-over John Bell, and
he fared little better in the year 1866 than Bell had in the emotional
tension six years earlier. As the Evening Telegraph commented, the
Johnson men were good enough men, but their ideas were a bit
"fossilized."58 There lies the key to the failure of the "swing around
the circle." But fortunately for the future of the American Negro,
Andrew Johnson, his plans for white equality in the postwar South
ruined by Radical idealism and unable to resolve his own internal
frustration, had not seen it that way. Possibly he could never see the
Negro as a central part of anything.
University of "Pennsylvania
58 Evening Telegraph Aug. 13, 1866.
CHARLES
D. CASHDOLLAR