For the first time in eight years the country witnessed a real presidential contest. The campaign, none the less, was one in which the candidates themselves took but little active part. The days of "swinging around the circle" had not yet dawned in our national politics, nor had even those of the "front-porch" campaign. Adams made no effort either to be nominated or to be elected, retaining throughout the contest that austere reserve in public manner which contrasted so singularly with his amiability and good humor in private life. Jackson remained quietly at the Hermitage, replying to correspondents and acknowledging expressions of support, but leaving to his managers the work of winning the voters. Clay, whose oratorical gifts would have made him an invincible twentieth century campaigner, contented himself with a few interviews and speeches. The candidate who normally would have taken most active personal part in the campaign was Crawford. But in August, 1823--six months before the caucus nomination--he was stricken with paralysis and rendered speechless, almost blind, and practically helpless. For months he hovered between life and death in a "mansion" on the outskirts of Washington, while his friends labored to conceal the seriousness of his condition and to keep his canvass going. Gradually he rallied; but his powerful frame was shattered, and even when the caucus discharged its appointed task of nominating him, the politicians were cold-heartedly speculating upon who would receive the "old republican" support if he should die. He recovered and lived ten years; but his chances of the presidency were much diminished by his ill fortune. "He had fallen with his face toward the goal, with his eyes and his heart fixed upon it."