Senator and Death
In 1848, before his second term ended, Whitcomb was elected by the legislature to become a member of the United States Senate. He resigned as governor and served in the Senate from 1849 until his death in 1852, and was a staunch opponent of tariffs. While in Washington, D.C., he served several years as the Vice-President of the American Bible Society, remaining in that position until his death. He became afflicted by kidney stones and sought medical treatment in New York City for kidney disease. He died from the illness in New York City on October 4, 1852. His remains were returned to Indianapolis, to be buried in Greenlawn Cemetery, where the state erected a monument over his grave. In 1898 his daughter had his body exumed and moved to Crown Hill Cemetery next to the grave of Oliver P. Morton. In his will, Whitcomb left his large private library and part of his estate to the Methodist Asbury College (now known as DePauw University). He also left a large donation for the American Bible Association. His library is thought to be haunted by some of its patrons. There is a statue of Whitcomb on Monument Circle in Indianapolis.
James Whitcomb Riley's father was a close friend of Whitcomb and named his son after the governor. Whitcomb's pamphlet on tariffs became popular again after his death and was circulated nationally during the failed reelection campaign of Benjamin Harrison, who was a proponent of tariffs. Whitcomb was not the most popular of Indiana's politicians and gained many enemies during his time in office, but was well respected and remembered as one of Indiana's most important governors.
Read more about this topic: James Whitcomb
Famous quotes containing the words senator and, senator and/or death:
“Helicon: “It takes one day to make a senator and ten years to make a worker.”
Caligula: “But I am afraid that it takes twenty years to make a worker out of a senator.””
—Albert Camus (1913–1960)
“Falling in love with a United States Senator is a splendid ordeal. One is nestled snugly into the bosom of power but also placed squarely in the hazardous path of exposure.”
—Barbara Howar (b. 1934)
“There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world’s sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.”
—Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)