One will suffice by way of illustration.
Free speech was not tolerated by our frantic greenback opponents, and
stale eggs with decayed cabbages hurled at the heads of Republican
orators were the strongest arguments used by the General's admirers to
combat our appeals for protective tariff and sound money. At a meeting
of our state committee in Boston, Judge Thayer announced that General
Hall of Maine, one of our most brilliant speakers, could not reach
Rockport, where he was billed to hold forth, before ten o'clock that
evening, and called for volunteers to hold the audience for two hours.
Rockport was almost solid for Butler, and his friends had declared
that no Republican should speak there, consequently no one
volunteered. At last, the Judge, in despair, said:
"Foss, will you go?"
"I shall obey orders," was my reply, amid cheers of the much-relieved
shirkers, and I bolted for the train.
On arriving at my destination, I found the station crowded with a
howling mob, and the Republican town committee were frantically
shouting: "General Hall, General Hall!" "Here," said I, and only by
the vigorous aid of the clubs of the police was I hustled through the
embattled hosts to a hack, which took me to the hall where I walked on
the shoulders of a friendly uniformed club to the platform, which
I finally reached with torn apparel and in a condition of almost
physical and mental collapse.
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