When I returned to my home after the adjournment of Congress in March, 1875, the political clouds were dark.  The political outlook was discouraging.  The prospect of Republican success was not at all bright.  There had been a marked change in the situation from every point of view.  Democrats were bold, outspoken, defiant, and determined.  In addition to these unfavorable indications I noticed that I was not received by them with the same warmth and cordiality as on previous occasions.  With a few notable exceptions they were cold, indifferent, even forbidding in their attitude and manner.  This treatment was so radically different from that to which I had been accustomed that I could not help feeling it keenly.  I knew it was indicative of a change in the political situation which meant that I had before me the fight of my life.

My advocacy and support of the Federal Elections Bill, commonly called the “Force Bill,” was occasionally given as the reason for this change; but I knew this was not the true reason.  In fact, that bill would hardly have been thought of but for the fact that Mr. Blaine, the Republican Speaker of the House, had attracted national attention to it through his action in vacating the chair and coming on the floor of the House to lead the opposition to its passage.  This act on the part of the statesman from Maine made him, in the opinion of many Southern Democrats, the greatest man that our country had ever produced,—­George Washington, the Father of the Republic, not excepted.  They were loud in their thanks for the valuable service he had thus rendered them and, as evidence of their gratitude to him, they declared their determination to show their appreciation of this valuable service in a substantial manner whenever the opportunity presented itself for it to be done.

No man in the country was stronger, better or more popular than the statesman from Maine, until his name came before them as a candidate for President of the United States on a Republican ticket.  A sudden transformation then took place.  It was then discovered, to their great surprise and disappointment, that he was such an unsafe and dangerous man that no greater calamity could happen to the country than his elevation to the Presidency.  Nothing, therefore, must be left undone to bring about his defeat.

I was well aware of the fact at the time that it was the result of the State and Congressional elections at the north in 1874 that had convinced Southern Democrats that Republican ascendency in the National Government would soon be a thing of the past—­that the Democrats would be successful in the Presidential and Congressional elections of 1876 and that that party would, no doubt, remain in power for at least a quarter of a century.  It was this, and not the unsuccessful effort to pass a Federal Elections Bill, that had produced the marked change that was noticeable on every hand.  Every indication seemed to point to a confirmation of the impression that Democratic success at the Presidential election was practically an assured fact.