Was born near Hillsborough, N. C., and studied for some time at the University of that State, at Chapel Hill, but did not remain to graduate. He removed to Tennessee, and afterwards, in 1813, to Missouri. In the Senate, he was a strong and persistent advocate of a specie currency, acquiring by his efforts the epithet of “Old Bullion.” Two other measures with which he was largely identified were the reduction of the price of lands, with a view to promote settlement, and the construction of a railroad to the Pacific. On retiring from the Senate, he devoted himself to literary pursuits, and prepared for publication the important works which have been named. These were “Thirty Years’ View, or a History of the Workings of the American Government for Thirty Years, from 1820 to 1850,” 2 vols., 8vo.; “An Examination of the Dred Scott Case,” and an “Abridgement of the Debates of Congress from 1789 to 1856,” 15 vols., 8vo.

Personal

  Benton is a caricature likeness of Louis Philippe—the same rotundity, the same pear-shaped head, and about the same stature. The physical expression of his face predominates. His lower features are drilled into imperturbable suavity, while the eye, that undrillable tale-teller, twinkles of inward slyness as a burning lamp-wick does of oil. He is a laborious builder-up of himself—acting by syllogistic forecast, never by impulse. He is pompously polite, and never abroad without “Executive” manners. He has made up his mind that oratory, if not a national weakness, is an un-Presidential accomplishment, and he delivers himself in the Senate with a subdued voice, like a judge deciding upon a cause which the other Senators had only argued. He wears an ample blue cloak, and a broad-brimmed hat with a high crown, and lives, moves, and has his being, in a faith in himself which will remove mountains of credulity. Though representing a State two thousand miles off, he resides regularly at Washington, drawing a handsome income from his allowance of mileage, and paying rare and brief visits to his constituency, whose votes he has retained for more than twenty years—an unaccountable exception to the anti-conservative rotation of the country’s gifts of office.

  Benton was not only a man of tremendous passions, but unrivalled as a hater. Nor did his hatred spend itself entirely upon injustice and meanness. It was largely personal and unreasoning. He was pre-eminently unforgiving.

  Senator Thomas Hart Benton, of Missouri (although it has often been stated that the duel was forced upon him), deeply regretted his meeting with Lucas (in which the latter was killed), and some time previous to his death Colonel Benton destroyed all the papers he had in his possession or that he could obtain concerning the affair.

  He was a faithful friend and a bitter foe; he was vain, proud, utterly fearless, and quite unable to comprehend such emotions as are expressed by the terms despondency and yielding. Without being a great orator or writer, or even an original thinker, he yet possessed marked ability; and his abounding vitality and marvelous memory, his indomitable energy and industry, and his tenacious persistency and personal courage, all combined to give him a position and influence such as few American statesmen have ever held. His character grew steadily to the very last; he made better speeches and was better able to face new problems when past three-score and ten than in his early youth or middle age. He possessed a rich fund of political, legal, and historical learning, and every subject that he ever handled showed the traces of careful and thorough study. He was very courteous, except when provoked; his courage was proof against all fear, and he shrank from no contest, personal or political. He was sometimes narrow-minded, and always willful and passionate; but he was honest and truthful. At all times and in all places he held every good gift he had completely at the service of the American Federal Union.

  Was a large, heavily framed man, with black curly hair and whiskers, prominent features, and a stentorian voice. He wore the high, black-silk neck-stock and the double-breasted frock-coat of his youthful times during his thirty years’ career in the Senate, varying with the seasons the materials of which his pantaloons were made, but never the fashion in which they were cut. When in debate, outraging every customary propriety of language, he would rush forward with blind fury upon every obstacle, like the huge, wild buffaloes then ranging the prairies of his adopted State, whose paths he used to subsequently assert, would show the way through the passes of the Rocky Mountains. He was not a popular speaker, and when he took the floor occupants of the galleries invariably began to leave, while many Senators devoted themselves to their correspondence. In private life Colonel Benton was gentleness and domestic affection personified, and a desire to have his children profit by the superior advantages for their education in the District of Columbia kept him from the constituents in Missouri, where a new generation of voters grew up who did not know him and who would not follow his political lead, while he was ignorant of their views on the question of slavery.

  Benton was not a great orator, as Webster was, but he was a powerful pleader and an indomitable spirit, and his nature was cast in a heroic mould. Like most of the public speakers of his time, he affected classic allusion and plentifully interlarded his speeches with references to the ancients. He had great fondness for a barbarous phrase of his own invention which he called the “principle demos krateo.” This phrase, which he had borrowed from the Greek, he used and misused on every possible occasion in speaking and in writing. Like others of his time, he drew copiously from Greek and Roman history to illustrate his meaning; as we have seen, the Trojan war was made use of by way of illustrating his fight against the salt tax.

General

  There is certainly no modesty in the book which leads the author to curtail the account of his own exploits; while, on the other hand, few statesmen have ever so generously celebrated the merits of their contemporaries in the same walk. There is a general ease and amenity in its pages, the apparent indication of an unruffled mind.

  A book [“Thirty Years’ View”] of the greatest consequence to the student of American history. The author was a shrewd observer, and during all the period of which he wrote he was in the United States Senate. His account is remarkable for its simplicity of style, and for the admirable spirit with which he treats political foes as well as political friends. In no other work can be obtained so good an account of passing political events during those important years which extended from 1820 to 1850.

  He better knew how to translate the thoughts of great thinkers into a dialect which the multitude could interpret and understand than any other politician of his time…. Benton was master of our mother tongue; spoke and wrote it in its purity, power, simplicity, and all men understood “the meaning” and “the bearing.”… The “Thirty Years’ View,” a work which he imagined would be immortal, is that whereon he mainly rested his hopes of future fame. The cream of his best speeches is therein collected. In many respects it is a valuable contribution to the political literature of the times, and supplies an important desideratum in our annals. But is it not straining panegyric somewhat to denominate the work history? For ourselves, we cannot concede to it that appellation unless we accept the late General Benning’s characterization of history as correct: “History,” said he, “is true in general, and false in every particular.” “The View” is full of inaccuracies, some of them too gross for pardon. In too many instances personal feeling gives tinge to statement of fact. The truth is not presented in white light, not because the author did not mean to be candid, for his instincts were honest, if not generous, but because it was simply impossible for him to be impartial.

  As a writer, Mr. Benton’s reputation will rest mainly upon his “Thirty Years’ View,” and upon his “Abridgment of the Debates of Congress,” which he brought down from 1789 to 1850, in sixteen volumes,—an invaluable work, compiled after he had passed the age of seventy-four, and the closing portion dictated in a whisper on his death-bed…. To no statesman is this country more indebted than to Benton for the maintenance of correct views upon the true function of government in relation to this question of “soft” money.

  Benton’s style as an orator was easy, full, and strong, showing him well acquainted with his subject and confident of his powers. The “Thirty Years’ View” is noted for its excellent arrangement and for a style easy and fluent yet not diffuse.