The so-called upstanding Israelites, many of them American-bred, who labored to bring forth this new era of religious good feeling were far removed from the “Jews as a class” that Grant had expelled in 1862 for trading, smuggling, and speculating. Some of them, particularly Simon Wolf and the Seligman brothers, had contributed significantly to the Republican victory. They were, for the most part, self-made men who had been born poor, worked hard, and succeeded—just like the president-elect himself. The question, as Ulysses S. Grant now prepared for his inauguration, was how his future relationship with these upstanding Israelites would inform his relationship with Jews and America at large.
* * *
a Colfax, back in 1859, had complained “of the omission to include Jewish ministers in the list of those who offer prayers in turn at the opening of Congress.” He was chiefly responsible for the fact that on February 1, 1860, Rabbi Morris J. Raphall became the first rabbi ever to perform that religious function, praying with his head covered and attired in a traditional prayer shawl. This, however, seems to have been completely forgotten by 1868; it went unmentioned in the campaign. Bertram W. Korn, Eventful Years and Experiences: Studies in Nineteenth Century American Jewish History (Cincinnati: American Jewish Archives, 1954), 110–12.
b Cesar Kaskel, based on his role in overturning General Orders No. 11, might have been expected to play a major part in this debate, but he seems instead to have remained completely silent. Having opened an upscale New York clothing store at Broadway and Bleecker Street in 1867, he likely concluded that any public political involvement on his part would have been bad for business.
c Fascinatingly, a letter to the London Jewish Chronicle challenged these pieties based on American Jewry’s example. In justifying a call for readers to vote against the apostate Joseph d’Aguilar Samuda, who was running for Parliament, “F.S.C.L.” observed, “No one blames the American Jews for uniting to defeat the election of General Grant because he ventured to insult their brethren and their faith [July 24, 1868, p. 4].”
4
“To Prove Impartiality Towards Israelites”
Ulysses S. Grant was forty-six years old when he stepped forward, on March 4, 1869, to take his oath of office. He was, at that time, the youngest person ever inaugurated as president of the United States. Physically unimpressive but steely in his determination, adorned in an expensive black suit and somewhat reticent, as if conscious of the formidable challenges awaiting him, the general appeared the very embodiment of the nation’s hopes. “Let us have peace,” he had proclaimed when he accepted his party’s nomination. What he had meant, one biographer explains, was “peace between North and South; peace between black and white; peace after years of war and political conflict.”1 Now, in a characteristically short and plainspoken inaugural address, he once more urged his countrymen to heal the nation’s sectional wounds and guarantee Black Americans the right to vote. The great challenges posed by Reconstruction, he preached, needed to be approached “calmly, without prejudice, hate, or sectional pride.” He called upon each citizen to “do his share toward cementing a happy union.”2
The question of what a “happy union” entailed bedeviled Grant’s presidency. During his years in the White House, Americans redefined “we the people” and debated anew who could be citizens and what citizenship meant. The bulk of this debate naturally focused upon the rights of people freed from slavery by the Civil War, but there was discussion, too, about Indians, Chinese, and even Gypsies (only a small number of whom lived in the United States at that time).3
The Inauguration Ball, Treasury Department, Washington D.C., “Upon the Arrival of President Grant and his Wife, 1868.” (illustration credit ill.21)
When it came to Jews, some in Congress actually sought to downgrade their status in post–Civil War society via a constitutional amendment intended to “more fully recognize the obligations of the Christian religion.” Having concluded that the Civil War was punishment for “the absence of any adequate recognition of the sovereignty of God … in our Constitution,” supporters sought to remake America into an explicitly Christian state. The National Reform Association, founded in 1864, had as its object to “declare the nation’s allegiance to Jesus Christ and its acceptance of the moral laws of the Christian religion, and so indicate that this is a Christian nation.” To this end, it proposed to rewrite the Preamble of the Constitution to read as follows:
We, the people of the United States, humbly acknowledging Almighty God as the source of all authority and power in civil government, the Lord Jesus Christ as the Ruler among the nations, his revealed will as the supreme law of the land, in order to constitute a Christian government, and in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquility, provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and secure the inalienable rights and the blessings of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to ourselves, our posterity, and all the people, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.4
Senator B. (Benjamin) Gratz Brown of Missouri, the non-Jewish grand-nephew and namesake of prominent Jewish merchant Benjamin Gratz, of Lexington, Kentucky, became a leading congressional supporter of this amendment. Perhaps fearing that his Gratz family associations would harm his future political aspirations, he declared that “unless we become in very truth a Christian nation, all other nationality will be ephemeral and delusive.”5 Steady propaganda and regular national conventions during Grant’s years in the White House sought to advance the “religious” amendment. The goal, declared the 1872 convention of the National Association to Secure the Religious Amendment to the Constitution of the United States, was for Americans to “finally settle the question of the relation of their government to Christianity.”6
B. Gratz Brown (illustration credit ill.22)
Much to Jews’ relief (and thanks, in part, to their effective behind-the-scenes lobbying), the proposed amendment repeatedly failed to make it out of congressional committee. Senator Charles Sumner of Massachusetts actually withdrew his support for the amendment owing to objections from his “Hebrew friends.”7 Nor did the amendment win the support of Grant, who articulated a more pluralistic vision of America and whose religious proclivities were, in any case, somewhat latitudinarian. Meanwhile, the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution broadened the definition of citizenship, to embrace “all persons born or naturalized in the United States.” The Fifteenth Amendment went further, extending the franchise to millions, most of them male ex-slaves, who had never been permitted to vote before. Between them, these two amendments greatly broadened the constitutional definition of “we the people,” just as Grant and his party had hoped. As for the position of Jews in American life, it remained, from a legal perspective, undiminished.
In other ways, the position of Jews during the Grant years dramatically improved. The new president reached out to Jews, appointing them to government positions they could never have aspired to hold before. In so doing, he sought to atone for General Orders No. 11 and to prove that, as the nation’s chief executive, he was just what he had promised to be: without prejudice, eager for “each individual to be judged by his own merit.” His policy of rapprochement with the Jewish community also cohered with his general policy of reconciliation, seeking to abate sectional and interracial tensions. As a result, Jewish participation in government expanded during Grant’s presidency. Policies that the new president may initially have undertaken to reward Jewish supporters, improve his image with Jews, and win Jews back to the party of Lincoln ended up empowering the American Jewish community and opening the doors of government service to people who had previously been excluded from its ranks.
Jews held more government offices than ever before under Grant, and the government also displayed marked new sensitivity to Jewish interests. Instead of America becoming officially Christian, as supporters of the “religious amendment” had hoped, Judaism itself became a recognized American religion. This naturally
posed a challenge to Americans who believed themselves to be “God’s New Israel,” rightful inheritors of the Jewish mantle. While Christian triumphalism of this type by no means disappeared during the Grant years, Judaism won increasing recognition and experienced a brief golden age.
The first tentative steps in this direction took place just two days after the inauguration when Grant’s earliest and most tireless Jewish supporter, Simon Wolf, dispatched a three-sentence letter to the new president requesting a job. “I have the honor to apply for a position in the foreign service of the Government,” Wolf began. Evincing pride in all three elements of his hybrid identity, he described himself as “a German by birth, an Israelite in faith, and … a thorough American by adoption.” “Should I be appointed,” he promised, “I will ever aim to uphold the dignity and integrity of the Government, and reflect credit upon the Country that has so kindly protected me.” Supporting Wolf’s application was a warm letter of recommendation (addressed to Missouri’s Senator, Carl Schurz) from the German-Jewish leader Isidor Bush of St. Louis, a prominent Republican. He praised Wolf’s character, boldness, amiability, and learning, recalled the young lawyer’s warm and able support for Grant during the campaign, and vouched for his popularity, “especially among Israelites.” “If Presid[en]t Grant wants to prove his impartiality towards Israelites and to disprove any unfriendliness attributed to him on account of Order No. 11,” Bush shrewdly advised, “there is probably no better opportunity than by appointing Mr. Simon Wolf to the position for which I am informed, he is an applicant.”8
Applications by the hundreds flooded Grant’s desk in the early days of his administration. Like most successful politicians, the new president expected to fill vacant positions with acquaintances and supporters, so as to cement his hold on power and reward his friends. Patronage officially dominated most levels of government in the United States until the creation of the nonpartisan civil service in 1883. Before then, the principle articulated back in 1832 by New York’s Senator William Learned Marcy held firm: “To the victor belongs the spoils.”
Wolf did not have to wait long to receive his slice of these spoils. John A. Rawlins, Grant’s longtime friend, onetime assistant adjutant general (back in 1862, he had countersigned General Orders No. 11), and now the secretary of war, advocated for him. So did Republican congressman Albert Gallatin Riddle of Ohio, who had known Wolf as a lawyer. In gratitude for Wolf’s “ardent” services to the party during the election, especially his efforts “to overcome the reluctance of the Israelites,” and perhaps also in recognition of his political and administrative skills, Grant nominated him, on April 17, not to the foreign service post that he had requested, but to a position more conveniently close to home, in Washington. He named him “Recorder of Deeds for the District of Columbia.”9
Writing years later in his autobiography, Wolf modestly insisted that he did not “seek or covet” this office, and “determined … to decline the honor.” He claimed that only when he learned that a protest had been lodged with the Senate Committee of the District of Columbia concerning the appointment of a Jew did he change his mind. If such a protest was made, however, no reference to it survives and its effect was nil. The Senate reported favorably upon the nomination a mere three days after it was announced. Wolf had initially hoped for a better appointment: being in the foreign service was both more exciting and more lucrative than being recorder of deeds. But he was apparently persuaded to accept the morsel that was offered him, and likely used the excuse of an antisemitic protest to save face. Regardless, his appointment was formally ratified by the Senate on April 30, 1869, and he took office on May 15.10
The office of recorder of deeds, created by Congress in 1863, was charged with recording and preserving “all deeds, contracts, and other instruments in writing affecting the title or ownership of any real estate or personal property” in the District of Columbia. The job was mind-numbing but hardly arduous, and the most routine labor was handled by lowly clerks. In addition to overseeing them, and ensuring that the office ran smoothly and efficiently, Wolf found that he had a more important role to play in the administration, as he recalled Grant himself explaining to him when they met. “I learn that you represent your co-religionists [and] that you also stand well with the German-American element,” Grant told him. “I may want to see and consult you often.” Wolf subsequently calculated that “no one … except those immediately surrounding him or the members of his Cabinet, saw President Grant oftener” than he did. Discounting Wolf’s propensity to self-aggrandize and exaggerate, the record nevertheless discloses that he found numerous opportunities to intervene with Grant on behalf of individual Jewish office seekers as well as causes important to the Jewish community. To a president eager for “reconciliation,” Wolf became primary adviser on Jewish (and occasionally on German-American) affairs. No previous American president ever appointed a Jew to so high a position of trust, and none before Grant ever sought to have a Jew in his administration to represent his “co-religionists” before the government.11
Years later, Wolf proudly reminded the New York Times that, as recorder, he “was the first public officer to give a colored man a clerkship.” This was in line with Grant’s official policy during Reconstruction, and the “colored man” in question was one of the sons of the ex-slave and prominent abolitionist leader Frederick Douglass, a Republican stalwart. By then, Civil War–era fears that freedom for Blacks would lead to persecution of Jews had been completely forgotten. “A Jew,” Wolf piously proclaimed, “must not have any prejudice.” In 1881, three years after Wolf had departed, President James Garfield appointed Frederick Douglass himself to be recorder of deeds. “I held the office of Recorder of Deeds of the District of Columbia for nearly five years,” Douglass recalled in his autobiography. “Having, so to speak, broken the ice by giving to the country the example of a colored man at the head of that office, it has become the one special office to which, since that time, colored men have aspired.” Thus, as happened so often in American history, a blow against discrimination that benefited Jews was subsequently extended to benefit Blacks. Prominent African Americans continued to occupy the office of recorder of deeds continuously until it was transformed into a civil service position in 1952.12
Reputedly, Ulysses S. Grant sought to appoint Jews to positions far more significant than that of the recorder of deeds during the first term of his administration. Banker and longtime family friend Joseph Seligman, according to the testimony of his son, Isaac, was invited by Grant to become secretary of the Treasury, an appointment that would have made him the first Jewish cabinet member in U.S. history. Grant’s initial choice for the Treasury post, prominent retailer Alexander Stewart, ran afoul of an old statute barring from the position any person “concerned or interested in carrying on the business of trade or commerce.” Seligman, had his nomination gone forward, might have fallen prey to the same ill-considered statute. But according to his son, “the bank needed him, and his brothers begged him to let politics and public office alone.” Grant therefore appointed Massachusetts congressman George S. Boutwell to the job. Thirty-seven more years would pass before Oscar S. Straus, in 1906, became the first Jew to serve in an American presidential cabinet as secretary of commerce and labor under Theodore Roosevelt.13
Nothing daunted, Grant reportedly attempted to appoint another Jew, Washington, D.C., publisher and bookstore owner Adolphus S. Solomons, as “governor” of the District of Columbia, during the brief period when the nation’s capital was administered like a territory. Solomons, in 1863, had privately criticized General Orders No. 11 as “ill-liberal and un-lawful,” but later became friendly with Grant, and in 1871 was elected to the District’s House of Delegates, chairing its committee on ways and means. According to an unpublished report, probably written by his son-in-law, N. Taylor Phillips, Solomons was offered the district’s governorship by Grant and declined it. As a religiously observant Jew, he explained, he felt “that his observance of the seve
nth day Sabbath would be incompatible with the duties of his office.”14
Adolphus Solomons (illustration credit ill.23)
Even if these family traditions cannot be confirmed by official records, their existence is deeply revealing. In a country where ex-slaves, during Reconstruction, held high elective and appointive offices, the idea that Jews might similarly be considered for such positions no longer seemed radical. In fact, Grant did, at Wolf’s behest, appoint a whole series of Jews to other governmental positions. For example, David Eckstein of Cincinnati, who, as we have seen, had valiantly supported Grant in 1868, became consul at Victoria, British Columbia. Nathan Newitter became consul at Osaka, Japan. Charles Mayer became district attorney for the Middle District of Alabama. Jacob Sterne, a Confederate veteran, became deputy postmaster in Jefferson, Texas. Years later, Wolf calculated that “more than fifty appointments were made by President Grant at his request.” The Jews among those fifty were friends and acquaintances, people who supported the president and his party, and could be counted upon to be dependable and loyal—critical attributes of patronage appointees to this day. Like the “upstanding Israelites” who had campaigned for Grant in 1868, the Jews who received appointments from him were refined professionals, the kind of self-made men whom the president prized above all others. In a conscious effort to demonstrate his own lack of prejudice and to supply “the best answer” to Jews who considered him an enemy, Grant, according to Wolf, appointed “more Israelites to office than any other President since the founding of the Government.”15a
When General Grant Expelled the Jews Page 9