tJU Ula^^iXU staler A\^^ 171^41 Class E.53dL Book -Y\ '^\ #? i-^A (p P DISCOURSE /73 DELIVERED ON THE OCCASION OF THE IFWHEIEAILi (DIEISIEIIOHEIES IN NEWARK, N. J., IN MEZKIORY or THE The nth of April 1841, '-"'^ BY ^ / / c CHIEF JUSTICE HORNBLOWER. 11 1841. £ Newark, April 20th, 184L Hon'ble JOSEPH C. HORNBLOWER, Dear Sir — Participating in the general gratification produced by the delivery of your discourse on the occasion of the recent Funeral Ceremonies in this place, we would respectfully request of you a copy for publication. With true respect and regard, We are your friends and fellow citizens — William Wright, John S. Darcy, Joseph A. Halsey, Asa Whitehead, A. 0. M. Pennington, John P. Jackson, Fred. T. Frelinghuy«en, Wm. B. Kinney, Isaac Baldwin, William Stevens, Joseph P. Bradley, O. S. Halsted, James Miller, Edward Cook, A. Armstrong, Theo. Frklinghuysen, j'r. J. P. Pennington, A. S. Hubbell, F. H. Smith, Sam. H. Pennington, Peter Jackson, Cortland Parker. Newark, April 27(h, 1841. Gentlemen, The Address referred to in your letter was prepared amidst the hurry and perplexity of a busy Court, and consequently not with that care and attention which the interest of the occasion demanded, or which would entitle it to any farther public notice than it has already received. Nevertheless I yield to your polite re- quest and herewith send you the manuscript. With great respect, I have the honor to be, Gentlemen, your friend and fellow citizen, JOS. C. HORNBLOWER. William Wright, John S. Darcy, O. S. Halsted, Esquires, and others. DISCOURSE. Fellow Citizens in Mourning — Fellow Citizens in tears — what mean these signs of woe — these banners hung in black, and all this dark and gloomy drapery, by which we are surrounded ? Is it all a dream ? an empty shew ? the unmeaning pageant of an hour ? or has, indeed, some dark and frowning providence, with blighting influence, swept across our country, wrapped us all in gloom, and left the nation in tears ? Would, that it were a dream : but it is not so. The angel of death has been commissioned from the skies, not indeed to desolate our families : but to afflict the nation. He has selected his victim : he has finished his work, and WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON lies low in death. There, there, in that tomb : symbolized by the gloomy urn that stands in yonder aisle, lie the mortal remains of our late beloved, honored President. He is dead. He is dead : but yet he speaketh : " carry out the true principles of the Constitution : it is all I ask," said the dying pa- triot, with his expiring breath : and the paternal tones still linger on our ears and vibrate through the land. He is dead ; but yet liveth. Yes : he lives in the affection of a grateful nation, and his fame will live on the page of history as long as virtue has a home, and liberty finds a dwelling place on earth. He is dead — dead to us, but Oh ! Father in Heaven, may we not hope that he has gone to live for- ever with Thee in those mansions of eternal blessedness and glory, where all is liberty, and light, and peace ; and where sorrow, sickness, and death will trouble him no more. In by-gone days; in the pride of youth, I remember to have stood on this spot, within these sacred walls, the chosen, honored orator, boforc a bright and buoyant audience. 'Twas then my gladsome task to speak my country's joy ; to participate in the gratitude and delight that beamed on every countenance, and swel- led in every bosom. It was the anniversary of a nation's birth- day and a nation's glory. But now, how changed the scene ! Since then, almost forty winters have shed their chilling influence on the vital stream which then coursed in youthful vigor, but now creeps slowly through these trembling limbs : and here, in this same place, with faltering tongue and feeble voice, surrounded by an audience wrapped in gloom, and a nation in tears, I am called upon to speak my country's grief; to tell iicr loss, and mourn a patriot's deatli. On the 4 til day of March last, William Henry Habrison, standing on the portico of his nation's capitol, and more firmly supported by his nation's confidence and affection ; looking up to High Heaven to witness the sincerity of his soul, recorded there his solemn pledge to support and defend the Constitution of his country : and gave to a listening nation such promise of his future conduct in the administration of the government, as gladdened every heart, and seemed, in anticipation, to roll back the dark clouds of adversity and gloom that hung over our beloved country. Already had the sun of our political prosperity begun to shed his reviving beams ; and hearts long alienated from each other by the baneful violence of party strifes, had begun again to feel that they were American — and to melt down and mingle into brotherhood, under the kindly in- fluence of him, who had become the Chief Magistrate of the Nation, the President of the People. Having selected his cabinet, our beloved President entered upon the arduous duties of his office, and the long agitated bosom of the political community was fast settling down into a delightful calm. Millions rejoiced in the confident belief, that in his hands, under God, the liberties of the country would be safe, the constitution preserved, and the nation restored to its wonted prosperity — while millions more, who had honestly opposed, or cautiously withheld their suf. frages, were anxiously waiting the results ; and we doubt not, with honest and patriotic hearts, sincerely hoping that in the choice we had made our nation would be blessed. With his family around him, save her whose voice had often wel- corned his safe return from the council house of the savage Indian ; who had watched and waited his return from the field of battle ; whose kind and tender assiduities, next to an approving conscience, and his country's welfare, had comforted and sustained him in all his sufferings, dangers, and privations ; and whose presence alone was wanting to consummate his domestic happiness, he entered the mansion provided for its Chief Magistrate, by the liberality of the nation. It was the Nation's house, and it had no70 become the Nation's heme. There, as at the rustic cabin at North Bend, every visitor found a welcome, and every American heart and American feeling, a glad response from a Patriot's bosom. There he had begun to reap the fruits of a life long devoted to his country's service ; and to enjoy the blessings of that country's grati- tude. For, arduous and severe as are the duties of such an elevated station, yet when that station is conferred as an expression of a country's gratitude and a country's confidence, as it was on William Henry Harrison, it is a blessing still. But alas ! how frail is man — how precarious his existence! how soon the brightest prospects of a family — nay, even the pride and glory of a nation, may be prostrated by the mighty fiat of HIM, in whose sight a thousand years are but as yesterday ; by whom princes reign and judges decree justice ; by whose wrath we are consumed, and by whose anger we are troubled. Scarcely had the nation read his inaugural pledge of fidelity to the country and the constitution, and begun to repose itself, under Provi- dence, upon his wise and paternal administration of the government, when the note of alarm was sounded ; giving but too sad premoni- tion of what was soon to follow. In quick succession, the melan- choly tidings came : " the President is sick " — the sad announce, ment struck a chord that ran from heart to heart, and vibrated through the nation ; and each palpitating bosom and listening ear, anxiously awaited the next intelligence. "He is very ill !" a deeper thrill ran through the nation's bosom, and with strong emotion, but in solemn silence, it paused to hear the coming news. " The Presi- dent is worse, and the angel of death seems to have been commis- sioned to do his work :" — the nation trembled ; the heart heaved with anxious forebodings, and the fervent prayer ascended from ten thousand bosoms, that the stroke might be averted. But, hark ! the tidings come : " the agony is over " — " the President is dead " — the nation is in tears ; and all exclaim as with one heart and one voice, 8 "\vc arc bereaved, rebuked, chastised.'^ And now let us, my fellow citizens, one and all ; these aged mothers, and youthful sisters, let us meekly and submissively add, " The Lord reignclh : let the earth rejoice : for though clouds and darkness are round about him, right- eousncss and judgment are the habitation of his throne." It is this sad event, my fellow citizens, which has brought us to- gether, in this house of prayer — this house of mourning : and here, in the presence of that God whose temple it is ; who has ever been the God of our country, and who we fondly hope and trust is now the God and everlasting portion of our deceased President, let us for"-et and forever forgive all our political animosities. Let us gather up all that has offended, all that has grieved the genius of liberty and the heart of patriotism, and consign them here to an ob- livious grave. We have not come here to commemorate the death of a political favorite — a mere party leader ; but for a higher and a holier purpose. "We have met here as a part of this great nation, to humble ourselves under the hand of the Mighty God, the Judge of all the earth : and by these funeral rites, these sable ensigns and symbols of the tomb, to mourn the death of our Chief Magistrate, and pay a heartfelt and becoming tribute of respect to the memory of one w ho loved and served his country only for his country's sake ; and who, tho' during the canvass he was the candidate of a part only of the nation, after his election, and when he died, was the President of the whole American people — the civil and political friend and father of us all. We are not indeed to forget the virtues of the man — nor the ser- vices he has rendered his country. We are not to untwine the wreath that has rightly adorned the Hero's brow ; nor to overlook the fond endearments that bound him to his family and friends. But while we remember and admire him in all these relations ; while we cherish a grateful recollection of his public services, and imitate him in all his private and domestic \irtues, let it be our great object so to improve th's melancholy event, as to strengthen the bonds of political union ; soften dow^n the asperities of partj^ ; secure the favor of Heaven upon our beloved country, and turn this national be- reavement into a national blessing. Let us not forget, that this is the first time since we have been enrolled on the list of nations, that God has taken from us a Chief Magistrate. Many of us who are now here, have followed, in reality or in imagination, in the funeral 9 procession of a Washington, an Adams, a Jefferson, a Madison, and a Monroe : — We have home our parts in the public expressions of gratitude for their services, and of grief for their departures from this world. But they were not Presidents : — They had served their country in that exalted station, and had returned to the walks of private life ; richly laden with their country's honors, and their coun- try's gratitude. They all went down to the grave in good old age^ from the circle of their friends and the quietude of private life, hon- ored and lamented : their works do follow them, and history has re- corded their fame. But now, for the first time in our history as a nation, we are called in the providence of GOD, and that, too, in a most sudden and unexpected manner, to mourn the death of our Chief Magistrate, and I hope it will not be offensive to any — it certainly is not intended to be so — if I say, a Chief Magistrate v.hose claims upon our love, esteem, veneration, and respect, were second only to those of the immortal and only Washington. In our short career as a nation, we have been called to pass through many trials; some of v/hich have been well calculated to excite the fears, and put in requisition the united efforts of the wisest heads, the purest hearts, and the most patriotic spirits of our land, to save our political bark from threatened danger. The friends of human liberty, here and everywhere, have looked on with intense anxiety to witness the results, and a kind and allwise Providence, as if approving of our efforts to sustain our civil and religious liberties, had brought us thus far safely on our way. But in our progress as a nation through the hitherto untrodden path of self government, we had to encounter another crisis. A President, elected by a vast ma- jority of popular votes ; whose elevation to office v/as the result of effort and excitement unexampled in the history of our country ; and from whose administration, the most important and interesting results were demanded and expected, was to be suddenly stricken down by death, from the high and exalted station to which he had just been called by the voice of his country. This was an event (tho' not unanticipated by the foresight of the patriot Sages who framed our Constitution), the practical effects of which were wholly untried, and no little to be dreaded. But in Judgment, God has remembered mercy. Behold the sub- lime spectacle — a beloved Chieftain — the Hero — the Patriot — 10 the Statesman — the nation's choice — the nation's hope — the na- tion's pride, has no sooner put on his official rohes, and announced those principles of government the execution of which was to fill up the measure of his glory and his country's weal, than he sinks under the high behest of Heaven to the dark and silent grave. But, lo ! his mantle — his mantle descends not with him to the tomb. — Peacefully — gracefully — gloriously and full of blessings, it falls from his shoulders, and gently covers in its folds his honored friend — the people's second choice ; designated alike by their wishes, and the constitution of our country, to bear his honors, carry out his measures, and consummate the high and glorious results for which they were both selected by a free and enlightened People. Pardon this digression ; my task is not political — it is of a holier and more sacred character. You have placed me here to speak of the dead ; not to praise the living : to tell you the story of your country's bereavement — to pay a becoming tribute to the memory of him for whom the country mourns ; and to improve this solemn Providence in a manner that may be for our individual benefit and our country's good. This duty might have been devolved upon other hands : but a heart, out of the endeared circle of his family, more deeply aflfected than my own, could not be found. Proud of a personal acquaintance with the illustrious dead ; an acquaintance which commenced more than twelve years ago under circumstances peculiarly interesting to me, as a fa- ther — having since, frequently net him in the domestic circle of our common friends, and been honored with his kind regards, I could not decline a task so congenial to my feelings. The history of William Henry Harrison, I need not repeat. It is familiar to us, and to our children : it is now the story of his country. I might tell you of his honored father, who represented the state of Virginia in the Congress of the Revolution — who was Chairman of the Committee of the whole House when the Declaration of Indepen- dence was framed — and whose name among that constellation of Patriots, stands inscribed upon that immortal document. I might tell you when and where William Henry Harrison was born — I might follow him in the days of boyhood, from his paternal mansion to the service of his country, as a subaltcrrr in the army under General Wayne. In the language of a living and distinguished friend of the deceased Patriot, I might tell you the story of his successful march 11 from Fort Washington to Forts Jefferson and Hamilton, soon after the memorable defeat of General St. Clair, through a wilderness swarm- ino- with hostile Indians, flushed with recent victory. I might des- cribe to you a youth not yet twenty years of age, with his knap- sack on his back, at the head of a detachment committed to his com- mand, marching on foot through the drifting snows of winter, and reaching the place of his destination in safety, after an almost unex- ampled exposure to frost, fatigue, and danger. I might relate to you some thrilling incidents, which I have heard from his own lips, that occurred to him when almost single handed and alone he was surrounded by the savage foe. I might follow him through all the varied scenes of his active and useful life — his ser- vices and his sufferings among the Indians of the North West Terri- tory — in the battle field and in the councils of the nation, down to that advanced period of his life when the awaking gratitude of his country called hira as by acclamation from his retirement at North Bend, to preside over the destinies of the nation. I might gratify and delight my audience, or rather I might thrill their bosoms, and swell their sympathetic sorrows, by a thousand in- cidents in the life of our departed President, highly illustrative of his character as a man, a neighbor, a citizen, a friend. His heart was pity -^ his nature, tenderness and love. The war worn soldier, the weary traveller, the poor old man, whose trembling limbs had borne him to his hospitable door, can testify to deeds of charity that almost makes us proud of human nature. He was benevolent and kind — in social intercourse urbane, instructive, unaffected, and cheerful — as a friend, sincere — in literature, a scholar — in war, a hero — in peace, a statesman — at home, a farmer — in the common walks of life, a useful, active citizen, and in his family, a husband, father, friend. And may I not add in the blessed charity of that Gospel, his belief and confidence in which he so nobly declared in his inaugural ad- dress, as the crowning glory of the whole, that he was a Christian too? Time and strength would fail me, were I to attempt a history of the Chief we mourn. But it is unnecessary. The history of Wil- MAM Henry Harrison, is spoken in a word — it is printed in our memories, and engraven in lines of affection upon our hearts. But ah, how impotent is man ! a few short months ago, ten thou- sand hands and hearts and tongues were actively engaged to raise /p 6< I*' their favorite candidate to the chair of State : their efforts were successful. I\Iillions of voices placed him in that elevated seat ; and hailed him President : but millions of men and angels too could not retain him there. A nation's hope, a nation's confidence, is dashed, and disappoint- ed in an hour ! What a lesson this to our country and to us ! Have we not forgotten the God of our fathers and put our trust in man ? But it is not my design, nor my office, to dwell upon this topic : al- ready from this and from other sacred desks, this solemn providence has been religiously and eloquently improved. But before we close these obsequies let us turn our thoughts from the illustrious dead, to his bereaved, and afiiicted family. His coun- try mourns : but the widow's heart is crushed. The nation weeps, but the childrens' bosoms bleed. The husband, and the father : where is he ? and such a husband : such a father ! His countrv loved him because he loved his country. It loved him for his public virtues, his heroic deeds, his long continued labors for the general good. For these his wife and children loved him too, but not for these alone. Ten thou- sand other more endearing ties, bound them in cords of love to the venerated husband, father, friend. These ties have all been sundered ; sundered in an hour, and at a moment too, when the gratitude of a nation, and the smiles of Provi- dence seemed to be giving promises to the good old man of better days, and inviting his family to share the nation's honors, and the nation's wealth. But a dark cloud has intervened — the sun has withdrawn its cheering beams — a gloom has settled upon the patriot's home. His widow is now the nation's widow — his children, the nation's children. They have our sympathies, they shall have our prayers. May the God of nations be their God, their father, their everlasting friend. ^ yj'^ LBJa'I2