A Walk Through West Cemetery: Horatio Seymour

Horatio Seymour’s tomb does not look like one belonging to a much-celebrated man. A stone stump shadowed by grand monuments, the grave attracts little attention. Yet while Seymour’s tombstone might not capture the esteem of the late United States senator from Vermont, it certainly honors his soft-spoken spirit.

Born in Linchfield, Conn. in 1778, Seymour moved to Middlebury as a 21-year-old lawyer studying in the law office of Daniel Chipman and quickly ascended through western Vermont’s combative political scene as an honest and uncontentious statesman.

His reticent political style reflects the less publicized political scene of his day, the era before televised debates. Seymour struggled to overcome his characteristically reserved approach to a business defined by the pursuit of popularity. His virtues, described by the Middlebury National Standard in 1826 as “fearlessness, promptitude and decision,” were shrouded by his uninspiring public speaking performance.

In the early 19th century, politics was more about pleasing the right people than pleasing the most people. Seymour’s lack of charismatic appeal was a minor setback; the young lawyer’s career accelerated rapidly. He secured positions as Middlebury’s postmaster, then the state’s attorney, executive council member and finally was elected by the Vermont House of Representatives Executive Council to the United States Senate in 1820.

Locals admired Seymour as an “uncommonly amiable man, kind, conciliatory, and always regardful of the feelings of others, and though decided in his own opinions, showing a respectful deference to the opinions of those who differed from him,” as written in an 1857 issue of the Middlebury Registrar.

Yet an electoral battle in 1826 against Vermont’s governor Cornelius Van Ness would test the strength of his support. Van Ness stood in stark contrast to nearly everything Seymour represented. An unprincipled opportunist, Van Ness mindlessly vacillated with public sentiment, offered back room deals and engaged in the sort of popularity contest that Seymour avoided, capitalizing on his handsomeness. After Seymour rejected Van Ness’s proposal to trade offices of senator and governor, Van Ness launched a vicious campaign against Seymour’s character. Because both supported President John Quincy Adam’s America System (stimulating infrastructure and asserting the role of a national bank in opposition to the nascent Jacksonian ideology), the only political ammunition the two rivals were left to employ was cheap attacks at each other’s pasts and personalities.

Judah Spooner, editor of St. Albans Repertory, criticized Van Ness for alleged corruption as a customs official and attorney. The Sentinel, another local periodical, attacked Seymour’s persuasive skills, asking, “On what occasion or question during five sessions in the senate, has [Seymour] stood up as an able debater, or a powerful advocate of the great interests of agriculture, commerce and manufacturing?”

Vermonters, weary of Van Ness’s insincerity, overwhelmingly supported Seymour, who won just narrowly in Vermont’s legislature.  During this whole ordeal, Seymour remained, “calm as a summers morning.”

His senate career witnessed few impassioned speeches. Yet observers noted his profound aptitude for highlighting new points and articulating his opinions with comprehensive evidence and firm logic. Seymour quietly contemplated the affairs of his country as his colleagues stirred a cacophony of political warfare.  Like his tombstone, he attracted little attention, yet contained an abundance of insight.