LIFE or %^ • # •4 • /* * • ^ % \ • THE LIFE AND CHARACTER OF CAPT. ¥1. B. ALLEN, OF LA'WRENCE COUNTY, TENN., Who fell at the Storming of Monterey y on the 2lst of September^ 1846. WITH AN APPENDIX, COKTAINING A NUMBER OF HIS ESSAYS AND SPEECHES. Mf W. P. ROWFiESj JGscj COLUMBIA, TENN., J. J. m'daniil, "democratic herald" book office. 1853. .A 7 PREFACE. The Sketch of the Life and Character of Capt. Wm. B. Allen, was undertaken by his devoted friend, Dr. W. P. IlowLES. When he had proceeded in the work nearly to its completion, his progress was arrested by the hand of Death. He was a gentleman of ver)^ high literary attainments, and admirably qualified for the task he had assumed. Afcer his death, the subscriber was applied to as a known friend and admirer of Capt. Allen, to finish the Sketch so ably begun. He was diffident of his ability to do justice to the subject, but as an evidence of the sincerity with which he cherished the memory of his deceased friend, he did not hesitate to consent. It is not to be expected that the hfe of one so young as was Capt. Allen, would abound in events of interest, and yet the reader will be surprised to find in these pages so much interesting and instructive materials. The work will commend itself especially to the young men of the country; and by a careful study of the character of Capt. Allen, much profit may be derived. A. 0. P. NICHOLSON. Columbia^ Ten7i.,' Mi: 27. 1851. 6 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF gone days, would have established the fame, and made the fortune of thousands, seem but common things. Within the life-time of the present generation, lofty forests, where savage men disputed with savage beasts for the supremacy, have been changed into fruitful fields, which afford their cultivators an abundance, and enable them to feed with their surplus, the starving thousands of the old world. The lonely cabbins of solitary hunt- ers, whose inmates were doomed to keep incessant watch over them against the fire-brands of the savages, or in- roads of, wild beasts, have been replaced by populous cities— the seats of empire, commerce and science, whene^'the light and heat of civil and religious freedom attract all nations, and warm and enlighten all who ap- proach. The blood-besmeared war-paths of the abori- gines are the sites of turnpikes and raii-roads, along which, instead of pinioned bands of doomed victims, pass a busy throng of happy freemen. The limpid riv- ers and broad lakes, 'solately hid in the bosom of tangled forests, are noW the delightful thoroughfares of enlight- ened nations. In?terd of the sparse' and' ^cattere'd scores who stood over the vfildern'ess waste, like sentinels to guard its solitude, there have sprung up thous?ands upon thbusahds; ivhose structTirfes, physical and'mbral, demon- strate the presence and progress bf wealth, freedom, sci- ence' arid pbwer. In the mi'dst of such a ]jeoplc, inhab- iting such ■ a, c"ountry, cornmon-place events or common- place m'en command little attention. 'But when some hitherto uhnbticed ybhth; a~ citizten,' 4t may b'e,' 'cf* sbrae rural district, unknown and uncared for, by his superior attainments,' shining qualities or bold achieverhents, at- tracts all eyes, en LIFE AND CHARACTER OF of the field, with firm and undaunted tread he boldlf led the way to the deadly breach. But alas! the enemy aim at him — too surely aim — and the cliivalrous youth falls! With a convulsive grasp he still holds his sword Lifting his dying eyes, to survey for the last time his shattered column, he exclaims, "Boys, /am dying, but charge the Fort!" Patriotism even in death! equaled only by the intrepid Captain Lawrence, who in the ago- nies of death, exclaimed ''Don't give up the Ship!" Thus lived and thus died Captain William B. Allen, % young man, when viewed in all the relations of life, who has shed a halo and radiance around his name so bright that the darkness of the tomb cannot hide it from admi- ration and esteem. Let the youth of our country, whose restless spirits pant to soar beyond and above the ordi- nary walks of life, learn to imitate the virtues and copy the example of this noble youth. Honor to his friends and countrymen! his bones are not left to bleach beneath a Mexican sun^, or be insulted by the sacrilegious foot of the servile and remorseless Spaniard. No! They now repose in tlie grove where he spent his childhood. And there they will remain, consecrated by a father's affections, and embalmed in a. mother's love! Your old friend, W. W, POTTER. Gen. Re H, Allen, CAPT. WM. B. ALLEH. 19 CHAPTER II. €apt. Allen's attachment to Lis Preceptor — His removal to the Nasliville University — President Lindsley's letter- — Allen's Address at Jackson Academy. The kindly sentiments of his teacher were fully and warmly reciprocated by young Allen. He ever spoke of Mr. Potter with affectionate respect, conceiving himself to owe that gentleman a large debt of gratitude for the parental solicitude with which his early thoughts were directed. A circumstance that does great honor to both parties, and shows the sincerity of their mutual regard, was, that, according to the straightest sects of their re- spective creed, they belonged to different political par- ties. Throughout the heated Presidential canvass of 1840, the warm Gubernatorial contests in '41 and '43, and the still more excited Presidential contest of 1844, the teacher and his pupil, in their several manners, were found in the very foremost front of the opposing parties. Frequently meeting at the various places of public discussion or elsewhere, their hearts were closely united; they saw, the teacher only his promising pupil, the pu- pil only his kind and assiduous teacher. Their friend- ship was more sincere than that between Aristotle and Alexander, and as lasting as that of David and Jonathan. Whilst Allen lived, he looked on his kind-hearted teach- er as the friend of his youth, who had spread for him the delightful *'feast of reason," and taught him the "vray to truth, honor and happiness. On him the teacbtr 20 LIFK AND CHARACTER OF looked, as Socrates looked on Plato, as "the champion of liis school, and the delight of the neighborhood." No wonder that the venerable man's recollections of such a pupil are "sweet and mournful to his soul." He had lioped from such early blossoms, to see at its matu- rity, a rich and rare fruit; the more beautiful to liim, from the honest labors he had long lavished upon it. — No wonder he tells his weeping- father that he still be- huMs the loved form of his favoiitc pupil, in spite of the ''darkness of the tomb." No confederacy of vice or leaoue of pleasure bound their hearts together. Their fiieudship was pure and true; it was founded upon mu- tual esteem, the result of often tried worth. They loved because they knew each other, and their regard was lasting because founded on just conceptions. From the care of this estiemed teacher, Gen. Allen removed his son to the Nashville University. Here, from a more elivated position, his prospect was wider. — He had, easily and promptly, adapted himself to the circumstances around him at the school of Mr. Potter. — There, by his industrious perseverance in the path of duty, he had made himself the "champion of the school and delight of the neighborhood." Tiiis is high praise, and called on him for a further display of his splendid social qualities. Looking around him, he saw a bril- liant class of young men assembled from various parts of his native State, and the Souch-v/est generally. — Among them a number of ripe scholars, truly devoted to the life of a student. At the head of the College was the Rev. Philip Lindsley, a man grown grey in toiling for the cause in which he is engaged, whose long prac- tice and skill in the estimation of human character, en- abled hira, very soon, to give to every pupil his appro- CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, * 2|S"' priate value. Associated willi him in the management of tliis tiourishini^ Instiiution, were a Faculty of learned men, as well skilled in their several departments as any in the country; furnished the means and having the will to make their College the seat of sound science. Here our young student soon learned the nature and extent of his labors, if he should maintain at Nashville, as at Ilalidon Hill, a just title to the highest regard of his fellow-students and teachers. That he early resolved to devote all his powers, mental and physical, to fuliil the hopes of his father, and the not less fondly cherished wishes of Mr. Potter. For, although Avithdrawn from his immediate care, his oil teacher did not lose sight of him. He kept a vigilant eye on his progress, and when, at the end of his Collegiate course, he received the hon- ors due to his assiduous studies, he rejoiced to see his fond pupil take his place, with favorable impressions, on the stage of action. The same integrity and urbanity that had distinguished the school-boy, had made him a favorite at College. The ardent devotion to the study of the primary branches of science, which won the es- teem of his early teacher, marked his course at College, and was attended with the same results. He secured the esteem of all with whom he was associated. There, as at the Academy of Halidon Hill, he showed that he possessed "superior intellectual abilities." The im- pression he made while resident at the University, will be better appreciated by the perusal of an extract from a letter of the Rev. President Lindsley to the writer.— He says: "I can probably add little or nothing of importance to the Biographical sketch of the late Captain William B, Allen, already prepared for pubhcation by his early 2t UFl AIJD CHAEAOTSR OF friend and tutor.* I kaew him, cliiefly, as a student of the University of Nashville, and more intimately as a member of the Senior Class, during the last year of his College course. In this connexion, his conduct was not only correct, but in the highest degree exemplary and praiseworthy. Uniformly amiable, modest, courteous and respectful in his deportment, he won the esteem and confidence of his associates and teachers, to an ex- tent rarely, if ever, surpassed in similar circumstances. Sincere, honest, ingenuous, noble, brave, generous, he was always and everywhere honored and beloved.-^ — Such, indeed, was the sterling integrity of his character, that few would hesitate to regard it as the fruit of deep- rooted reli^-ious principle, imbibed under careful parent- al training by the domestic fireside. He was never known, as I am credibly informed, to manifest the slighest symptom of envy, jealousy, m.alice, anger, or resentment towards any human being. He possessed superior intellectual abilities, as well ag a vigorous physical constitution; a capacity and a deter- mination to acquire knowledge; and, of course, by dili- gent study and persevering application, he made rapid progress, and extraordinary proficiency in every depart- ment of science and literature taught in the College. Few young men have ever graduated with brighter prospects, or fairer promise of future eminence or use- fulness. As evidence of his worth, and of the estimation in which he was held by those who had witnessed his career from infancy to manhood, it may suffice to say, that in less than a year after graduating, he was chosen » Mr. Potter, CAPT, WM. B. ALLEN. 23 hy his neighbors and fellow-citizens, as their Represent- ative in the General Assembly of the State. Of his subsequent public and official conduct, both eivil and military, I leave others, more competent judg- es, to furnish the requisite facts, and to pronounce the appropriate eulogium. PHILIP LINDSLEY." Nashville, Oct. 1847. Dr. Lindsley has long l^een placed in close contact with our collegiate population; is endowed wiih all the qualities of head and heart that qualify him to form a correct estimate of the mental and moral capacity of those who come under his charge. His opinion is, therefore, entitled to implicit reliance. Like Mr. Potter, he bears strong testimony to the high moral and mental capacity and acquirements of his pupil. And if Capt. Allen had left no other means than the recollections of his teachers, from which to delineate his character, the warmest wishes of his best and wisest friends could de- sire nothing more brilliant than the touching eulogy of Mr. Potter, and the no less feeling effusion from the graphic pen of Dr. Lindsley. These were his first and last instructors. Both knew and loved him well. During his collegiate course, Mr. Allen participated in all the exercises appointed for his grade of students, besides taking a leading part in the collateral means of improvement adopted by the students themselves. — Among those means, the debates and essays on assigned subjects were, as much more suited to his genius and taste, as fruitful in useful results. From a large mas« ^f papers, neatly written and filed by him, a consider ^4 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0^ able number of his essays, and several of his speeches,* will be presented to the reader, not as specimens of an assiduous student's exercises, as of thought and writing which manifest industrious research, correct taste, and genius of a high order. During a brief visit to his friends, in the month of October, 1843, tlie examination at the Jackson Acade- my, then under the care of Mr. J. W. Dana, came on. His younger brother, Samuel Houston Allen, afterwards his companion-in-arms in the war, was one of Mr. Da- na's 'pupils. That gentleman, with a taste and judg- ment not often surpassed in one of his years, invited our college student to be present at his examination, and to address the School, its trustees, and patrons. From the easy eloquence of his conversation, the learned precept- or rightly judged an address from him would be an agreeable finale to the sifting scrutiny of the closing ex- ercises of the session. The invitation was accepted, and on the next day, the young orator, far from his books and teachers, who might have afforded him some aid, on the 27th day of October, 1843, held a large audience m their seats, after a long siuting, wilh so much atten- tion and delight, that when he had closed liis address, they,not only manifested no signs of weariness or haste to be away, but gave repeated utterance of their satis- faction. The substance of his address, hastily recorded in his diary of that date, is as follows: " Ladies and Gentlemen — I rise to address you un- der circumstances peculiarly interesting. Indeed, such a scene as we have just witnessed, can never be without » See Appendix for Speeches and Essays. CAFT. WM. B. ALLEN. 2i!> incalculable interest to all the votaries of learning. To witness the performances of youth contending for the maslerv in letters; to observe the rapid and gigantic ad- vancements they have made in the expansion of vigor- ous intellect, and the acquisition of useful knowledge, can never fail to be an object worthy of attention. Ours is, emphatically, an age of improvement. In the lan- guage of Henry Lord Brougham,' *Mhe scboel-master is abroad in the land." Every parent is desirous of giv- incr his children what is termed a liberal education. For this, he is willing to do himself a pecuniary injury. — This will never be a cause of regret with hira. The destiny of the youth— the nation's pri le and boast — de- pends upon their proper training, both intellectually and morally. " 'Tis granted, and no plainer truth appears. Our most iuiportaut are oiiv earliest years; The mind, impressible and soft, with ease Imbibes and copies what she hears and sees, And through life's labyrinth holds fast the clew That education gives her, false or true." Every man, however humble his birth, and limited his circumstances, should endeavor, as far as he is able, to educate his sons and daughters, and inculcate into their youthful minds sound moral principles. This is the teacher's arduous, pleasing duty. "Delightful task! to rear the tender thought, To teach the young idea how to shoot, To pour the fresh instruction o'er the mind. To hreathe the enlivening spirit, and to fix The generous purpose in the breast." Our object Avill be, Frst, To encourage parents to be more zealous in promoting the cause of education. Xb LIFE AND CHARACTER OF S<3condly, To stimulate the youth to a manly exertion, and hold out inducements for them to be more vigilant and active in securing those treasures, wiiich are calcu- lated, in time to come, to invest their names with a hale of immortality. The time has been, when fathers would toil diligent- ly, and labor perse veringly, to accumulate wealth for their children, that they might "roll in luxury and shine in jewels," when little or no attention was paid to the improvement of the mind. Men were then, in the strict sense of the word, utilitarians. Perhaps the times m which they lived required them to act as they did. — Genius was to rise, if it rose at all, in rags. Patrons of learning were few in number. The wealth of the Indies was more dreamed of than an Augustan age of liter- ature. Scarcely did one sickly, glimmering ray of light from the hallowed regions of Parnassus dawn upon the mind. From such a picture, the enlightened mind turns away in disgust. Men have grown wiser. They are beginning to learn that riches often take wings and fly away. It is now conceded, that the richest legacy man can leave his children, is a good education. Public opinion has been partially changed for the better, but is not yet entirely as it should be. Men are beginning to offer their hoard- ed treasures in exchange for the treasures of knowledge. Legislative enactments have contributed to a more gen- eral diffusion of knowledge, especially among the poorer classes. The system of public schools has for its object noble and well defined purposes. It says to the poor man, send your children to school, and let them be in- structed, at least, in the elementary branches of educa- tion. For a neglect of this duty or privilege, there is CAPT. WM. 3. ALLEN, 27 not the shade of plausible excuse. He may not be able to give them a liberal education, but he has the means to give them a limited one. Educate them, and they will be objects worthy of your pride and consolation in your declining years. Remember, that knowledge, like virtue, has its own reward; that tyranny and iron-handed despotism recede before the lights of science. A gov- ernment can only be permanently based on the virtue and intelligence of the people. A source of encourage- ment to the youth is, that the present legisla-tors, whoso views of progress are moulded on the past, are passing off the stage of action, and their places are to be filled by others. Our country calls upon the youth to quali- fy hims€lf, for he will soon be called into her service. — She never singles out one of illustrious birth or rich in- heritance, to do her honor. She points to the youth with merit, with, perhaps, not a single farthing in his pocket; stamps her signet-seal of confidence on his brow, and claims him as her own. Wealth commends no one to her favor. She invites every one, pressingly, to come to her hallowed altar, and inscribe their names upon the roll of eternal fame. Before their visions she spreads out her richest treasures and priceless enjoyments. She poinU to them in exultation and delight, and exclaims with Commodore Perry, "Our sons, they are the property of our country." Every parent is conjured by the strongest ties of kin- dred affection, by the sacred ashes on liberty's altar, by the shed blood which cements the fair fabric of Ameri- can independence, by the promptings of weeping hu- manity, by a spirit of national pride and glory, and by tt love of his offspring, to educate his children, that they may be competent guardians of our liberties. Educat«i ;3 UFE AND CHARACTER 0¥ he rising gei^eration, and the privileges enjoyed by the M-esent generation will be handed down from father to ;on, and become perpetual. Educate them, and they ^vill know their rights, and knowing them, will maintam aiem. Educate them, and they will rise up and bless j-our memory for it. Educate them, and the unhallowed altars of superstition will crumble into dust, and their places be occupied by those of the living God, and true religion will rule the affections of every heart. What can°be an object of more lofty pride to a father, than an intellio-ent son? This should be sufAcient inducement for the son'to see that he does not disappoint the just expectations of his parents. He has the means, if he will but use them aright. ' Let his ambition for literary honor be high; his design, hke the great epic poet of modern times, to leave something so written, or done, that after-ages will not willingly, let his memory die. Who, that surveys this span of earth vre press. This speck of iffe in time's great wilderness. This narrow isthmus 'twixt two boundless seas. The past, the future, two eternities! — Would- sully the bright spot, or leave it hare, When hG might build him a bright temple there? Is there not a vouth hstening to me who has com= menced building this proud temple? Is there no spark of celestial fire glowing in his bosom? I this day draw aside the veil, and point him to the brilliant beacons blazing from the hill-tops of science, where, he may read emblazoned in inextinguishable characters, the names of men renowned for attainments he may achieve.^ Who knows but I address a youth, to-day, who is destined to wield the sceptre of government? Perhaps, within these walls is a future Washington, destined to lead our pa- CAPT. \VM. B. ALLEN 29 triotic armies, through a bloody revolution, to victory and conquest, and to preside as Cliief Magistrate of this mighty nation? Under this liumble roof there may be a Patrick Henry, who will burst forih from his obscurity, astonish the world, and cause the thrones of despots to sliake to their very centre, by his native, original, iirc- sistible eloquence. I may be addressing a young Frank- lin, who is to catch the angry thundeAolt and lay it harmless at his feet. All these glowing anticipations, and yet greater, may be realized by giving (heir minds the proper direction, now while young. Tliey need but to aspire, qualify themselves, and be the pride and glory of their country. And you, young gentlemen, who have passed from the care of teachers and haye began to gain a footing on the great arena of 'civil action, yoit have an important part to act in this matter. You must rise or fall by your own exertions. A bright and joyous future shines be- fore you. Honors and distinctions are at your command. Let it be graven on your minds that '•Honor and shanio from no condition rise. Act well your pari; there all the honor lies." « * * * * * « »"■* " Worth makes the man, \\-ant of it the fellow, The rest is all, but leather and prunella." Let no obstacle discourage you, though it seem as mountain high. You may conclude, as probably some of you have concluded, that, because your parents are poor, you have no claims to literary distinctions. This is not the least discouraging, when we consider that those whose names are most conspicuous in history were born of poor parentage. The rich are apt to be content 30 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF with the inglorious ease and luxury their wealth secures tliem. The best and largest contributions to the sum of human science, have been from those sons of genius who, in spite of penury and neglect, wrested applause from envious mediocrity by their indomitable application and perseverance. Franklin was a printer's boy, Roger Sher- man and Bloomfield were shoemakers, Rittenhouse was a ploughman of Pennsylvania, Ferguson was bred a poor shepherd's boy, and hundreds of othevs might be enu- merated in the same category, yet, where shall we find names more renowned than these? How seldom do we see the sons of wealthy parents excelling in the laudable pursuit of letters? I believe it is fortunate for a youth aspiring to eminent distinction, to be poor; fortunate for our country that there are such youths among us. Be- cause you are poor, young man, be not dejected. Hold up your head and look the most affluent in the face, as if you did not envy his situation. Let not his farms and funds impress you with a sense of inferiority. Let your sole object be to become men, useful men, of yourselves. Let your voice, one day, be heard in the Legislative Halls of your country. This is a more enviable distinc- tion than any that wealth can afford. Age, with its form leaning upon a staff for a support, ceases to be engaged in the public service. Youth is destined to take its place. A youthful Queen now wields the sceptre of England. — Bavaria, Austria, Prussia and Greece are ruled by youth- ful princes, and the youngest branch of the house of Bourbon rules vine-clad France.* It is rare to see a man whose head is whitened with age, at the head af aifairs. • Louis Phillip was dethroned after this was written. CAPT. WM, B. ALLEN. 31' What responsible concerns are to be placed in the hands of the youth? The task becomes his vigor of body and mind. Its performance is no less difficult than delightful. To the intrepid youth, even danger has charms. The mind, ever active, is unconscious of satiety. In the lan- guage of Beattie. *' In the crowded city or howling wil- derness ; in the cultivated province ar.d solitary isle ; in the flowery lawn and on the craggy mountain ; in the murmur of the rivulet and in the uproar of the ocean ; in the radiance of summer and gloom of winter; in the thunder of heaven and in the whisper of the breeze ; he still finds something to arouse or soothe his imao-ina- tion ; to draw forth his affections and employ his under- standino'. '* Young Gentlemen: Childish trinkets must cease to amuse you. You must put on the to^a virilis. Your age of manhood should inspire with an ambition to play your part with effect and eclat. A thousand hearts will rejoice at your success and renown in life. The man of letters finds a source of real enjoyment in his meditations. He may cull the richest flowers that ever bloomed in Purnassian latitudes. For him there's a story in every breeze. For him a picture lives in every wave. Let the example of departed worth cheer and animate you. Let the example of Demosthenes in his silent cave, and on the banks of the noisy sea encoui'age you. Let Franklin's zeal and success brighten your hopes. Let these names be models for your imitation and you wUl succeed. The student's toils and lucubrations are not to be ended with your active years of life. They afford con- solation and delight to declining years. 32 , UFB AND CHARACTER OF Fancy pours Afresh, lier beauties on his busy thought, Her first endearments twining round the soul, Wiih all the witchery of ensnaring love. And, young ladies, you should have cultivated minds and liLcrary tastes, also. It is true you are not expected to command our armies or govern our aasemblies, but you have a parL to act which requires suitable qualifica- tions, lb is not presumable that you will grace the pul- pit, or like Fanny Wright, stroll over and scold your country. Such a course, as I conceive, would be derog- atory to your sex. You may, like Hannah Moore, Ma- dame de Stael, Mrs. Hemans, Mrs. Sigourney, Miss Sedg- wick, Miss Dix, and many others of your sex, engrave your names upon your country's marble tablets, which the fino-er of time can never efface. But too little atten- tion is paid to female education in this, as in every other country. Woman cannot point with feelings of pride and love to the national institutions devoted to her instruction. The foundation stone of such a fabiic is not yet taken from the quarry. Yet you ought to, and can do much, to qualify yourselves for a pleasing and useful passage through life. Pupils of Jackson Academy, your present session has now come to a close. You have been, I trust, diligently eno-ao-ed, in the improvement of your intellectual facul- ties, during the past session. You have made an hon- orable exhibition of your attainments to your parents and guardians. They rejoice at your advancement. You are their pride, if you act well your parts, but their shame and sorrow, if you neglect or abuse your privilegs. — Because your session has expired, think not that your course of study is ended. After you shall have learued CAl'T. WM. B. ALLEH, 3i3 ail you can at school, you will have just learned how to learn. You should be students all your lives. Endeav- or to form the habit of study. You will then take de- light in it. It was the delights of study which Gibbon said he would not exchange for all of the wealth of the Indies. For the sake of these delights, Petrarch re- tired into solitude at Vaucluse. It was this that con- fioled Bunyan in his dungeon, when writing his inimita- ble Pikn-im*s Pro£>-ress. And it is this that will afford you enjoyments, if you will endeavor to clamber a little higher up the Hill of Science. You may then see tlie student's land of promise. Its fields are covered with fragrant flowers; Hesperian fruits adorn its trees. It contains treasures of more value than those of Golconda. They arc reserved for the votaries of science. Only stu- dents can pluck the flowers, taste the fruits, or possess the wealth of this literary elyseum — none but the pa- tient, untiring student can ever enjoy them. Your teach- ers have been endeavoring to point out, and help you on the way to this promised land. They have shown you the channel in which to sail your bark; they have cau- tioned you of the dangers by the way, and shown you where, on the one hand, you should avoid the impend- ing rock of Scylla, on the other, the whirlpool of Charyb- dis. They have furnished you with a chart and compass, and rigged your vessel for the voyage. Now you are to start alone, on the perilous tour. You must go some- where. If you continue straight forward, neither loiter- ing by the way, nor swerving to either side, you will safely reach the sunny plains which await your occu- pancy. On, then, on to the conquest of a name and fortune among men. It is the desire of all hearts, that you succeed. Your preceptors desire that you xn«y be- 34 LIFE AND OHARACTER OP come ornaments to society. Your parents pray that you may be useful to your country. The multitude stand waiting to applaud your success. May you all deserve it, and each of you find it as pleasing in possession, as I feel the prospect of your future is beautiful to me. I thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for the kindness of your marked attention; and to those of you who have» during the brief space I have occupied your attention, had your hopes excited for some one or more of this interesting band of scholars, I would say that no pa- rent here will rejoice more sincerely at the progress of his child, none more ardently desires the present and eternal honor and happiness of these young persons, than I do. This feeling I trust you will deem sufficient apology for the fervor and freedom with which I have delivered my sentiments before you. Being a youth my- self, and finding before me many companions of my early years, I shall deem myself fortunate if I have strengthened the worthy purpose of only one of those so dear to you and to me." This Address was delivered but two years before Mr. Alien took his seat in the General Assemby. There can be no doubt that he reduced the principles which he here inculcated, to practice in his own deportment, as the united testimony of all with whom he associated, proves him to have been remarkably circumspect and courteous, as well as sedulous in his application to busi- ness. ca.pt. wm. b. ajllew 35 CHAPTER III. The Texas Annexation question — Capt. Allen's first Political Speech — his Graduating Thesis. Soon after the delivery of this Address, he returned to College, where his bold and eloquent speeches, made in the several Societies, drew him into general notice and fiivor. About this time, the situation of Texas had attracted the attention of several of the European gov- ernments. Under the lead of General Houston and oth- er gallant men, chiefly emigrants from the United States, Texas had, in 1035, burst from her Mexican shackles, and boldly claimed the place and privileges of an inde- pendent nation. Born and baptized in the fire and fury of the battle-field, the young Republic proudly spread her victorious flag to the breeze, and came so suddenly and confidently upon the great arena of nations, that her claims to independence were scarcely known to exist, when the trumpet of fame sounded in the ears of the astonished world, her splendid feats of aims, and recep- tion into the family of nations. After gallantly main- taining her position for nine years, it was ascertained by her wisest and ablest men, that sinister measures were being taken to despoil her of the fruits of her toils and victories. A greedy swarm of foreign emmissaries in- fested her shores, inviting her to relinquish her freedom, so dearly and gallantly won, and make herself the colo- ny of good mother Britain, or at least cast from her the vulgar cap of liberty, and swear allegiance to 6om« 36 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? prince of royal blood, who stood ready to become her lord and master. It has been said there were, both among her own, and our citizens, many eminent men inclined to favor these propositions. The powerful pro- tection of more than one great nation of the old world, was offered to secure her from the assaults of her an- cient masters, the Mexicans, who, after repeated futile attempts to subdue her, still cherished the wish and purpose to repeat their efforts. Among other schemes, it wns pr( pcsed by M. Guizot, primier of France, to es- tablish a monarchy, of which Texas should be a part, to maintain the balance of power on this continent. This proposition was justly viewed as a blow at the rising trreatncss of the United States, and was treated as such by our public functionaries, when the time for action came. It had been solemnly declared in 1808, by Pre- sident Monroe, that this government would not consent that European policy should be forced upon any part of North America, and this salutary remonstrance had been repeated, from the same high position, by others. It was, and is, the settled feeling of the country. It was, therefore, incumbent on our government, to appear upon the the stage of action. She did appear. But unfortu- nately for the just fame of some of her prominent citi- zens, a presidential canvass was at hand, and they availed themselves of the known interest felt by the peo- ple, in the fortunes of the gallant young Repubhc. At the same time, a considerable number of distinguished men, who have assumed the title of philanthropists, and even christians, were loud in their protestations against our interference. Texas, some of them insisted, was a revolted colony. She had not obtained the consent of Mexico to her independence, and was not, therefor©, CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. St competent to cede herself away. In reply to these scru- pulous and high-minded patriots, it was replied, that revolution is the inalienable right of all nations, when or by whomsoever oppressed, and that to require colonies, driven to revolt by tyranny, to obtain the consent of their oppressors to a separation, was, at once, impossi- ble, unjust, and at variance wilh usage. Another con- siderable class of citizens protested against the annexa- tion of Texas to our Republic, because such annexation would enlarge the bounds of our sugar and cotton grow- ing lands, which enlargement, they said, would virtually favor slavery. These two classes united, and were met by those who insisted on an extension of the principles of our constitution, over the largest area, and the great- est number of persons, without regard to the produc- tions or present condition of the people in the new acqui- sition. The conflict between the two great parties was conducted with much ardor and consummate ability. — The ablest writers, and most eloquent orators of this or any other country, came before the people, and poured, out in copious and constant streams, the treasured accu- mulations of many years of honorable toils and experi- ence. As became an American citizen, our student formed an opinion on passing events, and freely expressed it on all proper occasions. In the early part of the year 1843, as at several former periods, the re-annexation of Texas to this Republic, was every where, and by every body, here and in Europe, a common topic of specula- tion. Shall it be done? was the great question. Al- though some of our most esteemed and ablest public men published elaborate arguments for the negative, Mr, Allen, in the exercise of his free judgment, ranged him- self on the side of the affirmative. About this time, 38 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF public meetings were held for the discussion of this absorbing question, in every part of the country. Mr. Allen attended one of these assemblies at Nashville. It was addressed by several distinguished gentlemen, long trained, by their duty in high official and professional places, in the art of speaking. The subject addressed itself strongly, to the minds of the people. They called up several speakers, among them Mr. Allen. This was his first attempt on a political question. Had he been called to (he defence of a thesis in the hall of his alma mater, against the assaults of a fellow -student, his friends f6U sure he would acquit himself with honor. — There, he would be prepared; but they feared the pre- sent call should not be responded to by him. They heard the repeated calls for Allen, Allen, Allen, from the eager crowd, with alarm. The subject now to be discussed, was exclusively a popular one. The exercises in College, and the recent origin of the question, they feared had afforded him little, if any means, of obtaining information on a subject so new, vast and exciting. The young student did not participate in the fears of his friends, but did not willingly respond. He had an opinion, decided and firm, and was ready to assign his reasons for adopting that opinion. But he felt all that diffidence so becoming in him. He evidently wished to avoid the present call, but those who had heard of his perform- ances in College, had no doubt he would acquit himself with credit in public. They were not disappointed. — Amidst repeated calls from the vast assembly, he at length arose. The shout that greeted his appearance seemed to awaken all the energies of his manly soul, and attune him to the exalted theme of human liberty, honor and glory, For more than an hour the youthful student. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 39 a mere casual listener to others, held the large assembly m strict attention, to their seats. He more than met the wishes of his friends. They heard him with rapture, and spread his fame in every circle. The news of his having participated in a political meeting, reached the' sequestered study of his College teachers. Their policy had been to shut polemics, especially all party discus- sions, out of their precincts, and to concentrate the en- tire attention of their pupils upon their O'.vn assigned studies. For the first time — the only instance in his scholastic life — our student was called to account for an error. The open, frank and prompt manner in which he confessed his error, disarmed the sternness of the Facul- ty, and secured their continued confidence and esteem. He had given way to the noble impulses of his heart in responding to the call, but he was not too stubborn or too proud to acknowledge his error. With this single exception, his collegiate career was marked by a scrupu- lous observance of the laws of the Institution, and a con- stant devotion to his appropriate duties. His graduating Thesis bears evidences of deep thought, and of a mature intellectual training, which fully attest the faithfulness with which he had discharged his duties. Under the conviction that this Thesis will be read with pleasure and profit, it is deemed proper to insert it entire: — GRADUATING THESIS. In a country where the people are free and independ- ent, where genius is suffered to grasp at mighty objects, without limitations to its powers, where rivalry and competition constitute the basis of excellence in every department of literary and scientific investigation, the mind not unfrequently transcends its legitimate bounda- iO LIFE AND CHAHACTEK OF ries HI the majesty of its conceptions, the brilliancy of its exploits, and the rich exuberance of its fancy. The inexhaustible treasures ef classical lore, the suitable adaptation of wholesome and beneficent laws, and the in- viting official stations which are to be filled by those best qualified to discharge their duties, afford the amplest in- ducements for the exertion of the young aspirant for fame. The portals of literature are continually open for his reception. The brightest gems that ever emblazoned the chaplet of a Milton, a Bacon and a Locke, may glist- en in his own, and the acquisition which Gibbon would not have exchanged for all the w^ealth of the Indies, may be his. Men of extraordinary capacities of mind and well disciplined intellects, are required to give dignity to the learned professions. The physician must examine and find out the secret causes of disease, and apply the necessary remedy. If he would succed and honor his «alling, he must understand his business. The young Sangrados, without qualification, at this age and time, ;.re useless citizens. The lawyer, with patient reflection and untiring zeal, traces the bloody steps of crime from its source, marks its progress and retrogradation, and pleads, with the ;soul-stirring eloquence of a Tull}^ the cause of guilt or innocence. Here is called into requisition the loftiest in- tellects, the most erudite scholars, and the most con- summate skill. Here is a field, though not as pleasant and flowery as some others, which is as extensive as the mind's eye has ever surveyed. Here is an arena, broad and expansive, embracing within its limits all the classic ^a-ounds of hoary antiquity, and bringing within its sweeping grasp the wisdom of the master-spirits of all £ii^es and of all countries. But a loftier theme than this CAPT. WM. B. ALLEW. 41 invites his attention, and inspires his soul. With the eloquence of a renowned orator, animated with the magnitude and thrilling importance of his subject, be may speak of a " Recovered Paradise to all mankind," or in "Melting tenderness, that blend With pure and gentle musings, fill the soul. Commingling with the melody, is borne, Rapt, and dissolved in ecstacy, to heaven." exclaim, " How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed." These are some of the subjects in which the youth of the country may readily engage. They afford a field for no ordinary speculation, and energy of mind. But, not to their lasting credit, the ambitious for distinctions and notoriety, turn the current of their thoughts into a contrary channel. Unwilling to bask contented in the calm sunshine of happiness, without incurring the mis- fortune of defeat, their generous hearts beat responsive to a different calling, and they rush headlong and pre- cipitately into its dominions, exposing themselves to the raging tempests and mighty upheavings of popular com- motions in sentiment, which distract and agitate our country. Is it because our free institutions are about to be destroyed and patriotism demands his exertion? Is it that our eagle g^ory is about to depart? If one's country is endangered, her rights invaded, or character aspersed, he should enlist himself in her defence, raise his voice to arouse his countrymen to a sense of their danger, ward oft' the blows that are directed at her, and 42 LIES AND CnARACTER OV point her to a glorious destination. If her territory is in- vaded by an insulting foe, if the war-whoop echoes along her borders, and a joatriotic exertion on his part is ne- cessary to her rescue, he should buckle on his armor of steel, fly to the tented field, and conquer or fall in de- fending her character from unmerited imputation. lie should always stand up in support of his country, or perish nobly at her hallowed shrine. But "to every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose." There may be a time, when a truce to useless discus- sions, tinged with a party cast, and surcharged with party rant, may be obtained. There is great danger of men, who suffer their feelings to be enlisted in a cause, like Icarus, soaring too loftily in this strange element, and eventually sharing his fate. Facts are chronicled in history, which tell us the greatest geniuses, and the most enlightened minds, have been prostituted in the rage for political preferment. The malaria is spreading alarmingly fast throughout the extent of our own happy country. It has infused itself into almost every condi- tion and circumstance in life, and society is bleeding freely from the wounds it has inflicted upon her. The flames of faction and dissension are fanned into fury by every passing gale. The fires of a restless ambition burn in the bosom of man. To its merciless prey thou- sands of noble victims have been offered. Humanity weeps over the innumerable crimes it has perpetrated. — Nor is it the ambition of prosecuting any plan which would redound to the good of the country, but of sow- ing the seeds of discord in our midst, as prolific as the fabulous dragoon's teeth, producing consequences at last " more terrible than army with banners." The vehicle t>f communication between different sections of the civil- CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 45 ised world, has been employed in the most vicious and nefarious purposes — "'Tis the prolific press; whose tablet, fraught By graphic Genius with his painted thought. Fling forth' by millions the prodigious birth, And in a moment stocks the astonished earth." That instrument which has illumined by its influence, minds otherwise destined to remain obscurely inactive, and reflected a radiancy of glory around modern inven- tions, is, we dislike to own, operating deleteriously and injuriously upon the moral condition of the people. It has denfcneraled into the most flaorant licentiousness and shameful perversion of truth. That, which more than any other agent, assisted the Reformers in freeing' them- selves and the world from ecclesiastical despotism, and securinc: to man his leo-itimate rii'ht, has often been used in disseminating contrary doctrines. And can you won- der at it? Have not the blackest crimes that ever dis- graced the page of history, been perpetrated ignominious- ly, in the name of liberty? Has not the most insulting despotism civil or ecclesiastical, been brought upon an unsuspecting people under the disguise of reforml By declaring themselves the protectors of the people, have not the Mariuses and Caesars subverted the constitution of their country? Has not immaculate innocence been betrayed by a kiss, and are there not yet Judases in the world? Objects which are designed to enhance man's happiness on earth, has been employed in corrupting his morals and misleading his judgment. In view of such considerations, can any profess an astonishment at the tendency of the press at the present day? It bore such a pbasis ere the star of liberty arose to its zenith iu '*'* LIFE AND CHARACTER 09 America, and reflected its light back upon the benighted regions of Europe. The spirit that was got up \a the last century in the "battle of the books," still lingers around those places where intelleciual feats are encouraged. Paying due and becoming respect to the opinions of others, that such hostile array of banners and marshal- ing y subjects in the field where mind combats with mind for the mastery— where intellectual superiority is not the only desideratum— where the desire of one party is to build its fortune and success upon the ruined repu- tation of the other, a connection false or true, impresses itself up6n our fears, that in the dissemination of knowl- edge, it also inculcates in the youthful breast immortal principles. "The broad covrnptiye plague * Breatlies from the city to the farthest hut That sits serene within the forest shade." To counteract such a tendency, a very serious and im^ portant inquiry might be instituted, whether, with such unrestricted privileges and encouragement to their free exercise, danger to our institutions, at a period not re- mote, may not be apprehended? In our country, the pa- triot's home and the home of freedom, no man fears to open the door of his thoughts upon any subject. He dreads no inquisition. In every town or village through- out the Union of the States, one or more newspapers or periodical journals is published, commercial, religious, or political. That sectarian religious zealots often overieap the boundary of decent propriety, to say the least, in the mad enthusiasm and rancor of controversy, has been well established. But when we turn our attention for a mo- ment to the great theatre of political action, upon which the noblest spirits and "demigods of fame" have stood CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 45 fsrect we forget or lose sight of all boundaries in the stretch of our imaginations. We see men who command respectability and no ordinary talents, and who profess to adhere to tlie truth at every hazard, forgetting the high responsibility they have assumed — fearlessly and un- bliishingly cHnging to a party for the sake of party — and throwing the broad mantle of oblivion over truth, at a time when she should shine with the "reatest brightness and lustre. The subject matter of inquiry is not, what is best for the country, but what is best calculated to ad- vance the interest of the party. With another, I am prepared to assert, that "parties must unquestionably ex- ist in every free country." There will be differences of opinion in regard to principles, and measures, and men; and it is beyond doubt salutary and desirable that dis- cussion should be open, free and fearless. But false- hood, virulence and abuse aie not necessary to promote the ends of truth and public welfare, nor the honorable ends of any party. Yet w.hen we consider how little the press, on either hand can be relied upon for accurate statements of facts— what continual stimulants are ad- ministered to the prejudices and bad passions of the peo- ple — how little of calm and candid discussion of political questions, and what ringing of charges upon mere party watchwords — and what wanton and virulent abuse is continually flung in feurn upon every public man in the country; we cannot but regard the influence of the party press as extremely demoralizing. Is this assumption universally and unexceptionably true? Are there not high minded, intelligent men in that department of busi- ness who would not maliciously perpetrate a deed de- rogatory to a man of unimpeachable veracity?. It is iiigbly gratifying to the patriot and casuist to be asssured, 46 LiyK AND CnARACTER OF that notwithstanding the various inducements to the con- trary, men of pure motives in high places, of incorrupt- able integrity, and characters impervious to the enven- omed darts of calumny and detraction, do exist. Yes ! there are those who, though poor indeed, cannot be pur- chased by ail the wealth of Great Britain. Hope still lingers around us in the gloomiest hour — still emits a cheering ray when everything is indicative of presaging distress. When the waves of corruption rise high, and threaten to submerge the vessel in which is deposited the ''Magna Charta" of the people's rights, we have never yet been without a Neptune to quell their fury by the trident of his eloquence, or a hero to still them on the brink by the cannon roar of war. When the night is darkest and most obscure, the stars — the "poetry of heaven" — shine with the brightest effulgence and mag- nificence. When the shade of a dreadful catastrophe is spreading over the country everyvv^here, as the broad canopy above us, then it is that the patriot's virtues and the chieftain's valor shine forth, dissipating the gloom, and lighting up with joy the mansions of distress. Al- though rewards and bribes may dazzle before him in gorgeous splendor, he never swerves from his purpose, to be branded like Pausanias and Arnold, with ignominy, and to deserve the detestation of mankind. In view of the good it has done and is still doing, can we say with a consistency that knows no shame, that the press — the Archimedean lever by which the deep foundations of tyranny and despotism have been overturned — shall be conditionally restricted? Further than a corrective of its abuses, would be an infringement upon constitutonial rights. Another species of excitement and demagogueism prevails in our country of no ordinary character and con- CAPT, Wii. B. ALLEir. 4t f{^rn. There are not a few aspirants to fame in our midst, who anxiously pant for that notoriety and thundering ap- plause to which the young Ciceros are so justly entitled. The fires of genius are blazing upon every hill-top, and the lights are seen afar off. Every man, great or small, high or low, lights his torch and bears it away in triumph, to illumine dark and benighted regions. In every little field are Richmonds more than one, "All bluster arra'd with factious license, Transform'd at once to politicians ; Each leather- aproned clown grow wise Present his forward face t'advise. And tatter'd legislators meet, From ev'ry workshop through the street; His goose, the tailor finds no use in, To patch and turn the constitution; The blacksmith comes with sledge and grate. To iron-biud tlic wheels of State." With a sufficient stock of unblushing impudence and flow of words, the orator mounts the Bema, cheered and ani- mated by the shouts of his respectable auditory. From his eagle eye flashes the liglitnings of genius, and "thun- ders of eloquence roll from his lips." He speaks in the sublimest strains of the sibyl pages of the ''Constitution" and its spirit — of the prime necessity of preservino it in- violate — and pledges to support it at the peril of his life. The sensation it produces is electric. The welkin rino-s with joyous acclamation and the "constitution forever." The sound dies away in the distance, and he resumes by professing an unalterable attachment for the dear people — that he is descended from a noble line of ancestors, whose deeds of daring are celebrated in song — and that TT^igrardless of personal emolument and popular favor, his UFE AND CHARACTER OF voice shall be for his country, and nothing but hiscoum- try; to Avhich the people respond reverently, *'amen." — • He summarily considers the whole Held of political dis- putation, weighs with a statesman-like sagacity the im- portant positions assumed pro and con — and submits his righteous cause to the verdict of a confiding constituency, believing their decision will be just. Tremendous and enthusiastic cheering follows, and the orator, by general consent, is immediately dubbed the Cric/itoii oih'is nge. A host of others etjually valiant, proud and ambitious of distinction, and vain beyond com])arison, armed (in their own estimation) with the unerring sword of truth, and protects from the assault of antngonists, by the impene- trable shield of a noble cause, backed with abundant evi- dence, the testimony of which cannot be invalidated. — Flowers of evergreen, and glories immor(al, are in the road the young aspirant has discovered in the hallucina- tion of a romantic imagination. No Utica circumscribes his vision; no change passes over the spirit of his dreams, and he stands blameless before the world, although his principles have assumed a chameli'on-like character, and his positions a contradictory aspect, if the "sine qua non" of his ambition— the elevation to official dignity— is obtained. Like the Vum- of Bray, he professes to be gov- erned by a punctilious consistency. If time and circum- stances undergo a partial change in the course of things. Proteus will be pardoned in altering his views to suit them. If by shifting his position, he is found on the popular side, it would be ungenerous to impugn his mo- tives, for who knows but he is acting under the inlluence of serious and deliberrte conviction? The light of truth may Hash across the understanding prejudiced by the predilections. But to say nothing about inconsistencies CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 49 and damning heresies, which are very common, it may not be unimportant to observe with what prematurity and precocity of genius, the professed votaries of the country engage in her service. The time has been, when the Madisons, the Jetfersons and the Jays decided constitutional questions with a consciousness of their in- abihty for the task; but now, since improvement in the science of government has been carried to such a solar- height, the young man, whose beard is not yet ripe for the reaper's sickle, undertakes to explain those points with unusual boldness and fearlessness. With a proud consciousness, and stout heart, he^meets the ablest champion in debate, and breaks a lance with him in vindication of certain cherished principles. There is no lion in politics he is afraid to beard. With bold words, and Demosthenean emphasis, he succeeds, like David, in vanquishing the Goliath of the adverse faction, if we put credence in his party newspaper organ, and encircles his brow v/ith wreaths, ''compared to which the laurels which a Caesar wore were weeds." So in- viting are the prospects, so patriotic the undertaking, and so glorious the results of an early participation in the political controversies of the day, that few, it seems, are such Ulysses as to resist the temptation. Frenzied by an inordinate, though not always laudable ambition, "fools rush in where angels fear to tread." However wicked their purposes, and deep their schemes of tyran- ny, they always hoist the motto of "Retrenchment and Reform," and "in hoc signo vincit." They profess tr» be governed entirely by a disinterested patriotism, and abhor every thing that bears the phasis of dissimulation. In every thing connected with the advancement and prosperity of their coaamon country, they are scrupu- D 5() LIFE AND CHARACTKR OF lously and rigidly strict and circumspect — so straiglif, thiit like the ''fiulijin's Inu', they beml Ihc other wny." And, wiih tlie confident h(^])c th;it Ave will not incur llie displeasure or dis:i])probalioi\ of those whose province is unearthly beauty, whose every clir.rm is tiie ningic of enchantment, and whose prime authority is love, we beg leave to remark, that notwithstanding the almost insep- arable barriers to modesty, and the objections which public opinion interposes, there have been, and 1 had like to have said arc yet, not a few would be Fanny Wr'n/hU in the )vorld. Wc have briefly alluded to the course pursued by the quasi politicians of our country, and the motives by •which they are in most cases governed. Self aggran- dizement seems the secret moving prijn iple to such ac- tion. It is not because he loves his country less, but because he loves ollice more. So omnipotent is this in- centive, that many who claim to rank lirst in the list of uncompromising patriots, would -willingly and unhesita- tingly sell their very birth -rights for a mess of public favor. To secure ollice in high repute, they labor, toil, quarrel, fight, bargain, intrigue, and almost any thing else which belongs to the insiduous cunning of the dema- gogue. Acting according to the Jesuitical doctrine, that the end sancLilies the means, they resort to various tricks, and sundry devices, to impose upon the credulity of the honest people whom they profess to love with all their hearts. With what deep solicitude and scrupu- lous regard should such ill-om(uied legerdemain and Machiavellism be observed? How vigilant and active should every American citizen be, who is proud of his juUional Gxist4?nce, in counteracting such evil tendencies? JJut at the same time, shall we iix a tcnnimu to the r;APT. WW. a. A.LIES. Fj] kudabJe efforts of the airpiring yo«th? Sliall hU vault- ing ambition be checked? I«j he to fcUnd still and on- rnoved, when the cloadn are grvthering thick, with a frightful aKpect, over the pillars of State, which augur cistruction and ruin? Hhall hiu arm har.g nerveleu*?, and his generou*! bo*iom cea>^ to give vent i/j itg pent up fire and enthu%ia*in, when hi* «rr\'ice« are in reqaiii ion? ,Vo! it'* the prerogative of mind, the home of the Deity, to think and act for it«elf. It owni no superior, it re- co^r.i'es no rule. It's the Prometheu«» u- rit whi'h tyrant* can never control. The p/. Jon to the effervescence of youthful intellect "foaming up with the fipirit of life" '. '. 'm apt ' the t'^>csia of alarm when r:o - nigh — ; - .pa enisade when there are no inficJel* in the city — and con- -,' :' '-'■■;■, - '"- ■ fifces. that inducea fcome to aihrm, ma; Ji wa^ irnyjUkihlt Ua this counlry Uj produce, in the strict %n*e of the tera, a genuine fcta.teBmen — that f/^^liticians we have many, Htatefcrnen none — that we cannot point to them in the ezaltatioQ of our heartjj, and exclaim '*here utand the choicest fepiritft of the arre; the greatest wita, the nobleiri orator?, ihe wisest ; ' and the n:.o*t i\]uf'.rloa.H patriots, ilere th^; • whofce handu hare been ralred for their country, who^e rr.agical eloquence shock the «phere», who»>e genia 'f;d out «:rairi» wonhy the inispiraiion of the Go , -. Jivea are devcted to the purity of their principles, wbo«e memorie* were be- queathed to a race gritefal for beneStg received from their •ufferinj^s and their sacrifices/' However tru^ »«ch a remark may be in reference to conteraporaneou'S »ta*e»m€n, it hi^e lo foundation in the rv;e of patriot^,, tug LIFE AND CHARACTER OF of whom we are their successors. They **. filled the measure of their country's glory," and their names will never die. For them "There is no vulgar sepulclire; green sods Are all their monuments; and yet it tells A nobler history than pillar'd piles, Or the eternal pyramids. They need No statue or inscription to reveal Their greatness. It is round thera; and the joy With which their children tread the hallowed ground That holds their venerated boues, the peace That smiles on all they sought lor, and the "wealth That clothes the land they rescued, — these though mute- As feeling ever is when deepest — these Are monuments more lasting than the fanes lleared to the kings and demi-gods of old." Their deeds of daring and matchless valor stand as a tower pointing magnificently to heaven, exciting the en- vy and admiration of the world. To perpetuate their memories, there is required no storied urn — no monu- mental inscription. That those who have succeeded them in directing the wheels of government, may never cease to emulate their Socratic virtues, that they will not soon forget the obligations they are under to defend the liberties of their country, and that no consideration of selfishness will ever be the cause of an abandonment of those principles for which our fathers fought and bled, is confidently and ardenty hoped. If the only consola- tion of the patriot on earth is to be destroyed, if law and order is to be no longer respected, if we are ever constrained to hug the chains of slavery and despair, the people, who hold in their hands the sceptre of gov- ernment, are and ought to be responsible for it. If a Gataline, in haughty vindictiveness, is beating at the CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 53 temple gates of liberty, it -will be remem"bered he re- ceived Lis elevation from the hands of the people. If ^ve are ever to be free as the air we breathe, if the sun of greatness is not set in the starless night of despotism, if our brighest hopes and anticipations are to be real- ized in reference to the continued prosperity of our coun- try, they should be instructed in the principles upon which our institutions are founded. Without such an auxiliary there is no hope. If the elements of corrup- tion, licentiousness and prodigality are sown broad-casi, this is no longer "the land of the free, and home of the brave." If our system of government is once destroyed it can never be re-established. Never! never! "A thousand years scarce serve to form a state; An liour may lay it in the dust: and when Can man its shattered splendor renovate, Recall its virtue back, and vanquish Time and Fate?" But we should never once despair of our country. — There are yet disinterested patriots, who in prosperity or adversity, in storm or in sunshine, will steer the ves- sel of state proudly and gallantly into the harbor of safety. Cylla and Charybdis will be passed without difficulty, and the ship's crew stand out upon its top with joyous hearts, swelling the triumphant shouts that burst spontaneous from a consciousness of national supe- riority and glory. With a cotemporaneous orator, we agree that *'if there be any thing which can mingle consolation in the hopes and doubts of the patriot, whcm about to close his account with time and venture on the realities of eterni- ty, it would be, that in the last, anxious lingering look which marks the boundary of the present and the fu- 54 LIFE AND CHAEACTER OF ture, he should behold his national standard, with all ita stars and stripes, proclaiming this union of the Slates one indissoluble and united Confederacy." CIPT. WM, B. ALLKR. 55. CHAPTER lY. Capt. Allen's standing in College — he commenc<>s reading Law — his general course of reading — his Speech and politics. Mr. Allen took his first degree with the entire appro- bation of the Faculty, and good-will of his fellow-stu- dents, as well as his numerous acquaintance in the city of Nashville. Few young men ever left the University with an equal reputation. In all the means and meth- ods usually resorted to by students at College, he had taken a leading part, and on retiring from the scene of his literary toils, he disrupted many tender ties. The room and class-mate, the antagonist and teacher, the li- braries and apparatus, the rooms and every object around him were dear, fi*om habitual associations, or use for years. But his career as a College student was ended, the books and cabinets, the places and persons with and from whom he liad partaken and derived the rich and varied intellectual treasures he delighted, must be left behind. His place at the domestic hearth, so long va- cant, awaited his occupancy. The family group in which he was so marked and loved a figure, were wait- ing to welcome him back again. The parents who had watched over his helpless infancy with fondest affection, who had rejoiced in the dawning promise of his youth, and had liberally supplied him with the means of im- provement, waited impatiently, with the rest of their family group, to see him, who was their eldest son and brother, once more take his place in their midst. They m rS LIFE AND CHARACTER OF had heard, from rumor, that he had acquitted himself at College, with honor. The sound, of his praise was •pleasant to the parental and fraternal ear, because it came from the wise and jrood. Praise of the wise and goodi— it is a meed For whicli I would long years of toil endure — Which many a peril, many a grief, would cure. On his return home, Mr. Allen carried with him copies of Coke, Blackstone, and other elementary law books. Having made choice of law as a profession, he began, at once, to prepare himself, by vigorous and sys- tematic study of the standard authors, engaging as a recreation, in rural pursuits of his father's plantation. — His intention was to take an extensive range, and pre- pare himself by a patient and thorough examination, the basis, progress and present structure of our legal sys- tem, for an enlightened and efficient performance of the responsible duties of that honorable and useful profession- After perusing Blackstone and the Institutes of Jusli- nian, his reflections upon the marked differences, in many' important particulars, between the civil and the common law, were remarkably clear and cogent. Sev- eral of the rules of evidence and of propriety, in the common law, he condemned, as incompatible with our free institutions. His objections to the celebrated Rule in Shelly' s case, were such as vrould have commanded respectful attention before any of our courts. He was strongly impressed with the superior equity of the doc- trine of the civil law on contracts, and had reduced his observations to writing. It seems, however, that he subsequently destroyed these essays, as they have not been found among his papers since his death. CAPT. WM. B, ALLEK. 57 In the midst of his favorite avocations, surrounded bv friends, from -»vhose society he had so long been sepa- rated, he fondly hoped to pursue the course of studies he had entered upon with so much ardor and promise, to their completion. The history of his own country, as well as those of the ancient republics, indicated this course as the highway to distinction and usefulness. In the silence and solitude of his study, he heard the voice of Demosthenes declaiming to the sea, to correct an impediment in his speech; he saw that orator copying the ponderous volumes of his country's best historian, 10 form his style. He had listened with delight to the vehement eloquence with which the fiery Greek defend- ed the altar of liberty from the desecrations of Philip; and when driven by the persecutions of Atipater from the country he had sought to inspire with his own higli conceptions of the worth of freedom, he saw that unri- valled orator, unablPto find a refuge on earth, deliver Jiimself into the hands of his gods. Mingled with these exciting events, the story of Roman eloquence and song fell upon his ear, from the voice of Cicero and the pipe of Virgil. Accompanied by the applause of the world, the models of ancient excellence passed in grand review, each imparting a w^ord of encouragement to cheer the student on his way. From such a presence, with the elevating sentiments it inspired, the review of our own Anglo-Saxon annals, the fires of Smithfield and the blood of Charles, he turned to look over the long le- gends of colonial vassalage and our Revolutionary fields. There he contemplated with awe and reverence, the ma- jestic figures of our fathers. The sword of our Wash-, ingtons and Jacksons, the pen of Jefferson and Madison, Avith their immortal associates, charmed his vouns: heart. 58 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF and filled his young soul with grand and glorious views of the human mind and its gigantic achievements, when directed by right intentions, aiming at worthy objects. Iletrospecting the whole range of past history, in every age and country, he saw that lasting honors, fame and fortune might be attained, only by qualifying himself to become useful to his fellow men. From this grand sur- vey, which he had just completed under the guidance of able teachers, he retired to his chosen pursuit, with a firm resolution to follow in the footsteps of those ex- alted men, whose history and principles he had tho- roughly studied and truly admired. Looting back over the past, and forward to the fu- ture, he firmly resolved to give himself up to honest and laborious cultivation of his mind. The achieve- ments of departed genius and worth gave him energy; the picture of his own future progress inspired him with hope. Having breathed the pure invigorating air of Helicon, and tasted the sweet waters of Castalia, liis soul was fired with the wish to know. To stand on the topmost peak of Parnassus, and see the utmost limits of the scientific horizon. The wisli to know — tlie endless thirst, AV'hich even bj quenching is awak'd, And which bcconaes or bless'd or curs'd As is the fount whereat 'tis slak'd. Instead of seeking for amusement in tlie fruitless waste of time, in the frivilous, often equivocal pursuits of young gentlemen of his age and circumstances, he con- tinued to apply himself to the pleasing and profitable study of his profession, and of poetry, liistory and the natural sciences. His chief attention was given to the CAPT. WM. B. ALLEX. 59 learned works of Coke, Bacon, Blackstonc and Kent; his liours of recreation to Botany, Geology and ^Mineralogy, for the pursuit of which the residence of his father was favorably situated. While seriously devoted to these favorite pursuits, he still kept up his social connections with the youth of his vicinity, and carried on, for one of liis age, an extensive correspondence with numerous friends in distant places. lie also wrote some of the best contributions published in some of the neighboring periodicals. He had scarcely adapted liirasclf to the sequestered situation chosen for the continuation of liis studies, when he was summoned from his books to ap- ])ear before the people as an advocate for his country's rights, against the adverse opinions of some of our own citizens. Rumors were still rife of his successful Ora- torical performances during his residence in Kashville. The people, and the Congress of Texas, with almost unanimous voices, bad repeatedly asked to be admitted into our Union as a State. Our irovernment havinsf ac- ceeded to the demand, the two great parties into which our citizens are divided, either condemned or sanctioned the act, carrying the discussion of the question into every election, even for State offices. The investigation and discussion of tliis subject was connected with our claims to the territory of Oregon, and required a minute and extensive acquaintance with the colonial and diplomatic history of several remarkable pe- riods in the career of this country, and those with which it has had intercourse. At the same time, the contro- versies between the great parties involved other, almost all the great questions of political economy, and national and domestic policy. On the absorbing questions of finance, commerce, internal improvements and the right 60 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF construction of the constitution, parties had always ex- isted, but were now more widely sundered and highly excited than ever before — except, perhaps, during the last war with England. With the principles, the acts and doings of these two great political parties into which our citzens are sepa- rated, it is not here intended to meddle, further than may be necessary to place the opinions and actions of our sub- ject in a proper point of view. Mr. Allen, adopting the principles of his father, had ranged himself on the side of that party to w^hich he be- longed. During the presidential canvass of 1 840, his po- sition as a student, did not require, or even permit him to engage in the contest. From his quiet, though not isolated position, at Halidon Hill, he had it in his power to take a calm, close view of passing events. He knew that every citizen, not only had the right to his own opin- ion on any subject involving the interests of the repub- lic, but the power to give elTect to such opinion. Being familiar with the history of the Greek and Roman repub- lics, he could readily compare passing events with past history— the present race of public men with those great names whose genius, eloquence and patriotism have been the unsurpassed models of all subsequent times and countries. It will be for the reader to infer -what judg- ment the frank and virtuous mind of an intelligent youth, such as Mr. Allen w^as, w^ould form of some of the men who then figured in front of the fiery fray. Having read the history of our Revolution and of its orators, states- men and warriors, and marked which of them, and in what quality they resembled the great patriots of the an- cient republics, the political arena of 1840, with its ex- cited dramatis personse, presented him a lesson as rich iu • 9 CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN ' 61 useful instruction as the Isthmian games, or Ludi Circen- ses, to the ancient student of human nature in Greece or Rome. For, whatever may have been the design of those pubHc orations, called stump-speeches, the manner in which and the men by whom they were then and since conducted, could have been not otherwise useful to the cause of truth than as mere exhibitions of mental — rather lingual — gladiatorial skill and cunning. During that stormy period, no historical fact, however well authenti- cated, no man's reputation, however well established, was regarded. Like some hungry hydra, the demon of party swept this fair land from Maine to Florida, from the Atlantic to the Pacific. And, like the hydra, its heads were numerous and indestructible. The very means used for its destruction opened fresh fountains of wrath and multiplied its power of raiscliief. Neither age, sex, nor services could shield the living, nor the sanctity of the grave shelter the dead. In its awful, sinuous and slimy march, all men and all things were forced to assist its progress, or fall amidst the immense mass of wreck and ruin that marks its passage. The tenderest ties of kindred and friendship, the joys of connubial life, and the very fane of faith, were rent, trampled down and overturned. High towers, fair temples, goodly theatres. Strong walls, rich porches, princely palaces. Fine streets, brave houses, sacred sepulchres, Sure gates, sweet gardens, stately galleries, All these, oh party! thou hast turned to dust. They're overgrown with black oblivious rust. Neither the long tried and well established maxims of political economy, finance or trade, nor the terrible re- collections of the ruinous consequences of disregarding 6? LIFE AND CHARACTER OF them, arrest the ruin or allay the storm. The voice of reason, the persuasions of truth were drowned in the tremendous clamor. In vain did moderate men seek to check or change the direction of that mighty tornado of passion and prejudice; in vain every appeal to the splen- did past, or promising future glory, honor and happi- ness of the republic ! On, on, on, the turbid torrent rolled , reo^ardless of restraint, ridit, reason, or the ruin that everywhere marked its course. That the young mind of the true-hearted and right- minded Allen should regard this wild wordy war with feelings of astonishment and indignation, was natural.—- His emotions, all fresh and pure from the unadulterated fountains of nature, he listened to some of the leading or- ators of the day with wondering awe, mingled with con- tempt and wrath. On comparing the sentiments and pa- triotism of these windy, mindless, principleless declaimers with the men of the old republics, or with our ownhigh- souled Revolutionary fathers, he saw few, or none, of those great and shining qualities of mind and heart that had commanded his own confidence and respect, and which he supposed ought to have had the Sc.me effect on other minds. The manner in which he expressed his opinion of the party action of his countrymen, in several letters to his friends, and essays for the press, gave a pleasing proof of his sterling integrity, sound judgment and manly patriotism. In conversation and correspon- dence with his friends, he frequently remarked that he could not appreciate the patriotism, or even discretion of those political gladiators, who from every stump, tra- duced the character and detracted from the great actioTis of some of our patriot-fathers, whose virtue, knowledge and services, have given them a renown as wide as the CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. ♦ (.3 world and r^s long as time. Xor could he refrain froin doubling the motives and faith of men who professed to admire, as great and superior, some of the most equiv- ocal specimens of our race. As a student of his country's history, his readin-:^ tauo'ht him to revere the character and be ffrafeful for the services of some of the men, living and dead, whoni he heard denounced, by partizaa orators, for the basest conduct and most unpatriotic designs. In this category were names of those belonging to both parties, but much the largest number to one of them. lie felt called on, under such circumstances, to review his opinions. He did so, and guided by the reconls of history, rather than tlie passion and ribaldry of parly, the result of his inqui- ries attached him still more firmly to principles he had already adopted from an honest conviction of their truth. In a speech made in Lawrence county, near the resi- dence of his father in the Spring of 1845, he gave utter- ance to his opinions on this subject, in nearly the follow- ing words: "The pictured pages of Livy and other r.ncicnts, have held up for the admiration or execration of all future (iuies, the good and bad men engaged in high official s ations in those times. The great and good men whom they admired, were commended by their fellow-citizens, fur acquirements and actions when then indicated, and will ever indicate their wisdom and worth. The same great qualities which prompted those ancient worthies in their usefulness, will command the admiration and re- pect of all good men, so long as virtue and truth shall be esteemed. The sages and patriots of our own country, who practised the same virtues, displayed the same lal- 'J 4 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF ents and perforraed similar actions among uSj have re- ceived, and should continue to receive our sincerest grat- gratitude and respect. What can it signify to men, knowing and loving the truth, how party spite and hate may revile the memory of our Jeffersons and Jacksons, our Adams' and Clays. There stand the enduring ms^n- uments of their presence and performances; there^ are the pictures history, impartial history, has drawn of them. In regard to some of them we yet have the traditions of fathers, all concurring in commendation of those whom mad ambition and party rancor now assail. Let us, my friends, stand by the old paths. We know that our Rev- olutionary fathers were pure patriots. They would never have recommended to the confidence of their offspring, men and sentiments so base and false, as party men now assert those were and are. No, no, no. Our patriot- fathers knew who and what they esteemed was worthy, and they have commended to us only truth and virtue, and their ablest advocates. We should not, we will never surrender the renowned names and shining actions of our revolutionary patriots to the aimless eulogy, or to the angry, groundless execrations of mere partizans. If their contemporaries esteemed and trusted them, and have transmitted their names to us as patriots, they were worthy. If worthy then, not all the malevolent eloquence of pandemonium should — shall it? — wring them from our embraces." As a student of political economy, Mr. Allen knew that the wisest and best patriots who formed the Constitution, of the Union, repeatedly refused to insert in that instru- ment a power for Congress to charter a Bank. He knew, as all may know who will read history, that Mr. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 65 Luther Martin, a delegate to the Convention of 17o7, from the State of Maryhmd, and several other distin- guished members complained to their constituents, and that some of them left the Convention because it refused to insert this power in the Constitution. He knew that the same arguments for and against paper money — es- pecially when to be issued by the government — had been urged before the Convention; that paper money proved injurious to every country which had used it, and that it had been the cause of immense injury in our own coun- try during the Revolution and since. He knew that Washington, Madison and Jefferson had discountenanced its manufacture by the Federal Government, and that these and other of the Revolutionary patriots, feared the advocates of paper money would persuade the people to reject the Constitution, because it withheld from Congress the poicer to charter a Bank, and that some of our sages have written arguments against giving such power to Congress, that never have been answered or attempted to be answered.* Resting his political faith upon these unquestioned and unquestionable authorities, Mr. Allen became an ardent and bold friend of the men who imder- took to sustain the opinions and measures he approved. Few men of his age were listened to by the popular as- semblies with more attention; none enjoyed a larger * Opinion of Jefferson, Secret Debates, pp. 9, 57, 79, 220, 24G ami 256. Madisou Papers, III, pp. 129. 1344 to 1346, 1442, 1542 and 1G15. Washington's Writings, IX, pp. 187, 231, 23.'^ and 24G. The venerable H. L. White, in his celebrated speech of 1832, cited tliese authorities, and adopted tliem as a jusb expression of his opinions. The subject was at that time fully discussed in Congress, by the press and on the stump, during the canvass of General Jackson for his second terra, and the people clearly adopted the views of Jeflferson. E 6S UfFE AND CriARACTZR OF bhare of their confidence. Treating the opinions and character of antagonists with courtesy and respect, he was never known to have drawn upon him their enmity; but while he combated their opinions, he maintained * with them the most friendlv relations. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, 67 CHAPTER V. Capt. Alien is nominated for tlie Legislature — His position^ on tlae Oregon and Texas questions — His Election. In the Spring of 1845, when scarcely eligible by Lis age for a seat in the General Assembly, he was nomi- nated by the people of his County, and elected their Representative, over a competitor of long standing and superior advantages. The canvass was conducted with great activity on both sides. The subjects discussed took in the whole range of State and National questions, the domestic and foreign pohcy and relations of the country; but the occupation of Oregon and the annexa- tion of Texas, Avere by far the most exciting, as they were the most important topics at that time. The claim of the United States to Oregon, was, by the party to which Mr. Allen belonged, said to be clear and unquestionable, from the 42° of North latitude, to 54'^ 40^ This claim rested on the Spanish title, as the iirst discoverers and occupants, as well as upon the dis- covery of Captain Grey, an American mariner who ranged the coast, landing at several points in 1791. The Span- ish claim to the first discovery of Oregon, goes back to the year 1542. Friar Nica, a few years before, reported to the Viceroy of New Spain, that he had visited a rich and populous country lying North of New Spain. A fleet under Alarcon, and a land party under Coronado, were sent by the Viceroy to conquer the country. Again in 1542, the same officer sent Cabrillo on a voyage of 68 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF discovery along the West coast of California. He pro- ceeded as far North as 42^. * In 1688, Maldonado pretended to have sailed from the Atlantic to the Pacific, via Hudson's Strait and a West- ern passage in 75° North hititiide. This voyage, as ■well as that of Juan de Fuca, who is said to have made the same passage, was long considered fabulous, but more recent explorations render them probable. Van- couver afterwards, (in 1791,) attached Juan's name to the Strait, which it still bears. In 1775, Heceta Bodega y Quadra, sent by the Viceroy of Now Spain, explored the Western coast as far as 67° 68 '.f The next visitor was Captain Grey, who took the sloop Washington, of Boston, into the Straits of Fuca, in 1788, and in the Co- lumbia, in 1791, discovered the celebrated river to which he gave the name of his vessel. During the latter year, Malispina was sent to explore the Nor t- western coast, and the next year other voyages were made for the same purpose, and to verify the statement of Maldonado. All these explorations were made by Spain, who had also some stations on the coast before any oth-er nation. In 1789, McKenzie crossed the Rocky Mountains from Ca- nada, and reached the Pacific in 66° North — beyond the limits of Oregon. In 1804-1806, Captains Lewis and *It was not until 1578, that Sir Francis Drake ranged the same coast, from SS*^ to 4.3'^. fThis point is nearly four degrees ISTorlli of the IS^orth boun- dary of Oregon. It was not till 1776, that Cook made his voy- age. He began his survey in Nootka Sound, and proceeded Nortliward. The Russian's had made some voyages 1727 and 1741, under Behring. They also discovered the Allentian and Fox Islands, but probably visited no pait of the present terri- tory of Oregon. Hearne in 1770-1772, reached the mouth of the Coppermine river, in about 69*^ North latitude. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. C9 Clarke were sent by the then President, Mr. Jefferson to explore the country. They passed the Rocky Moun- tains at about the 4G° degree, and descended the Colum- bia to its moulh. Not long afterwards, an establishment was founded at the mouth of the Columbia, by Mr. Astor, of New York, which was continued until cap- tured by a British force during the last war with that power. The British retained possession until 1818, when they surrendered it back to us under the provis- ions of the treaty. From this view, it is seen that if any one discovered Oregon, it was not England. Spain undoubtedly made the iirst explorations and the first settlements. The ex- })loration of Lewis and Clarke, in conjunction with the voyage of Pike up the Arkansas and Red rivers, were designed by the sage of Monticello, to acquire a correct knowledge of the extensive tract then recently acquired by us, under the name of Louisiana. The historical reader and politician will remember that the opponents of Mr. Jefferson opposed this acquisition, and predicted all manner of evils to the Union in consequence of its enlargement. The reports of the expedition were ridi- culed, and the facts stated disputed. The idea of a mass of iron, salt or copper, now so well known, existing in those distant regions, was made the .subject of jesi and caricature. The sentiments and opinions then diffused, in spite of their known fallacy, are still urged upon the people with as much pertinacity and as little truth or reason as at first. During his canvass before the people for a seat in the Legislature, Mr. Allen affirmed, and his antagonist de- nied the claim of the United States to Oregon, as found- ed on the foregoing historical facts and references. In 70 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OP several of liIs speeches, lie Qispln3^c(I .in nccuratc and •niinulc knowledge of this part of our history, that rc- ilccted great credit on him, and tended to enlighten the public mind, and disabused it from the fallacious and factious fabrications of careless and ill informed minds. It was assumed by the party to which he was opposed; 1. That Ave had no color or claim to Oregon, never liaving occupied, discovered or claimed it as part of our territory. 2. That if it wereourslt was worthless, and too distant and inaccessible to warrant a contest with England for its possession. 3. That to take possession of Oregon w^ould subject our commerce to be swept from the Ocean, and the ■whole of our maritime towns to be ravaged and burnt by the British fleets. In reply to the first proposition, Mr. Allen, in com- mon with his party, contended that our claim rested on a clear and soimd title, either as derived from Spain, or in our own right. The right of Spain rested on her first discovery, exploration and occupation of the coast from California to Vancouver or Quadra Island, as far JSTorth as 58°, before any other nation had visited or claimed the country. This claim had passed to us by treaty. — In addition to this. Captain Grey, an American mariner, discovered the river Columbia, and if any part of this Continent remained still open for occupation — which he denied — we must hold it according to the acknowledged rules, long established and acted on by the first occupy- ing nations. The first of these rules is — That the discovery and settlement of the mouth of a river entering the Ocean, i^ivcs the discoverer a right to the lands on both banks CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 71 nf such river and its tributaries, from its mouth to its source. The second rule is — That the right so acquired pre- cludes any other nation from interfering with, or pur- chasing land from the Indians, located within said limits. The third rule is — That where another nation shall have a settlement on the same coast where such a dis- covery and settlement is made, the middle point between their settlements, on the coast, shall be the dividing line. These positions were assumed to be the settled rules of national law, by Mr. Adams in his discussions with Mr. Onis, the Spanish Minister, pending the Spanish treaty for the cession of Florida to us, and Texas to Spain. Onis admitted them, as did Mr. Clay in his speech on the treaty, in the Senate; and it is believed they have never been questioned by any nation since their incor- poration into the law of nations. Tested by these rules, our title to Oregon is infinitely better than that of Eng- land to many of her vast colonial possessions. In reply to the second assumption, that the possession of Oregon was not worth a contest, it might have been sufficient to ask, if we were to suffer even a worthless part of our territory to be Avrested from us, what would our national character be worth? But time and events have placed numerous and cogent arguments in our power. The trade in peltries, carried on across the fro- zen regions of the Northern part of the Continent, has been the source of immense wealth to those so engaged. They have shipped their supplies from Europe via Ca- nada, and sent them into the interior by means of ca- noes and on the backs of Indians, and received their returns in peltries, on the Atlantic, by the same mode of conveyance, subject to numerous delays and dangers of 7t LIFE -^ND CHARACTER OF the sea, lakes, rivers and the savages along their route, fuid then transmitted their furs and peltries by sea to Europe, China or elsewhere for a market. This course of trade, besides the dangers, involved a vast -waste of time and means. Yet it was profitable — more so than many other branches of commerce. Had the British companies who carried it on, been at liberty to avail themselves of a more Southern route, in a milder cli- mate, and of our rivers for transportation, the dangers and delays would have been diminished and the profits augmented. These advantages are secured to our citi- zens, t'^ho, by the exclusion of foreigners, will enjoy the Indian trade in our own limits without competition, — During the joint use of ours and the British people, the best positions became the subject of controversy, ending in violence, often in outrages on persons and property of the most heinous character. All these evils are removed by our occupation, and our citizens can, as they are al- ready beginning to do, proceed directly from the mouth of the Columbia to China, Australia and the East Indies with their peltries, and bring their return cargoes to the market without the necessity of transhipment, and in much shorter time and less risk of every kind. If the trade of this region was an object to those who conduct- edit under so many disadvantages, it surely must be more valuable to us who may pursue it under more favorable circumstances. Nor is this all. The heights of the Rocky Mountains will be passed by Rail-roads, opening a short and safe commercial way from the Atlantic cities to the ports of China and the East, whence the teas, spices and other goods of those countries may reach our markets in six or eight weeks instead of eight or twelve months. By this route the Eastern goods will *"'CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 7^ reach us fresher, and -will be cheaper than T\'hen comin^f by way of the old route, round the Cape of Good Hope or Cape Horn. These advantages must make a change in tlie course of trade to the Asiatic countries. Instead of sending to Europe for Eastern goods, our merchants -will furnish the markets of Europe. The great desider- atum wliich led to the discovery of America — the search for a more direct way to the East — will liave been sup- plied. This way will pass from the Atlantic to the Pa- cific through the centre of our country. The routes via the Isthmus of Suez and the Red Sea will be abandoned. Instead of the ships of England and Bedouin camels, our steam cars and boats will become the carriers in this im- mense trade. The immense amount of timber, coal and iron abounding along the new line of travel, will appre- ciate in value, and vast quantities now wasted or un- saleable vv'ill become a source of wealth. The tall trees of Oregon, its cereals will accompany its peltries to the ports of China, and be there exchanged for teas, rich stufi^ and specie. The iron, copper and lead of Mis- .souri, with the coal of Ohio, Pennsylvania and Vir^nnia, will swell the flood of commerce to which the new route will give new impetus, new means, new objects and im- mense increase. To the third assumption, that a controversy with Eng- land would lead to the destruction of our commercial and maritime towns, it was sufficient to ask if our flag must })e lowered merely to appease the growling of the Brit- ish lion. National honor must be maintained at every hazzard. With these and similar arguments, Mr. Allen met lii.s antagonist before the people, who heard him evervwhere with pleased attention. The annexation of Texas led to 74 LIFE AND CHARACTER CW discussions as animated, perhaps more so, because the supposed danger was nearer, and for that reason greater. This was the leading question, while it was pendin^:^, throughout the Union. Its nature and magnitude, the immense interests and consequences involved in its de- cision, the alledged efforts of European powers to con- trol the decision, all tended to increase the excitement which pervaded the popular mind. In the discussion of the Annexation of Texas, the heart as well as the head of Mr. Allen was warmly enlisted. It was his enthusiasm on this question which hurried him, whilst a college student, to forget the rules of the insti- tution and to enter the arena of public debate. It was a subject well calculated to fire the enthusiasm of a young man of ardent temperament. He was famihar with the outrages which had been perpetrated upon the early Texas settlers. He had sympathised deeply with them in their sufferings. He had Avatched with earnest solici- tude their struggles with the Indians and Mexicans — their valor had won his warmest admiration, and their brilliant victory of San Jacinto had enshrined them in his heart as noble heroes and patriots. He had been taught bv his father to admire the character of the £:allant hero of that splendid victory. He cherished for the people of Texas the affection awarded to kindred. With such feelings, Mr. Allen entered the canvass for the Legislature with the flag of *'the lone star" streaming over his head. He had hailed the application of Texas for admission into the Union with joy, and all the energies of his enthusiastic soul were engaged in her cause. It need not be said that on such a theme he was eloquent — the theme itself was eloquent. A few brave adventurers had left their liomes and their kindred in the United CAPT. WM. B. ALLETf 75 1?tate.=5, and through scenes of blood and carnage they had conquered a Ptepubhc from the Indians and Mexi- cans. They now returned to their father-land and tt. Allon'B courKC in the LegJHJature— IIih speech on the Oc- cupant Quchlion — iti,'tiiri»Mto hih Law liookb — Call for Yulun- Icerh — iiJK hpC'C'cli on th'i War. When llie Gr^neral AHscinbly convt'ned on the Ut Mon- flay of Oclobor lo4.0, Mr. All<:n took liis seat as a mem- ber. He wastlje youn;;^e«t Keprebeutative in the Houfee, and was elected under cireuniHtances well calculated to excite the vanity of one whose mind was not well bal- anced. No Huch effect, liowever, wa« obnervable in the conduct of Mr. Allen. His demeanor was modest, re- tirinir and unas^umiu;^. Jle listened cheerfullv to the counsels of experience, and he profited by it. He fully comprehended the importance to himself of a courw; which should comport with liis age, and hence he made it a point to address the House but seldom, and when he did speak, to be prepared. In his intercourse with mem- bers, lie was easy and sociable; in his manners, open, frank and sincere in his conversation; strictly virtuous in liis sentiments, and scrupulously moral in his association* and habits. His speeches on evitvy occasion evinced mature reflection and profound thought. He was scru- pulously regular in his attendance upon the sittings of the House, and always watchful as to the progress of business. Whilst he constantly increased his reputation for talents, he secured the name of a business member. It is impossible for the writer to allude to various in- teresting measures of legislation^ in the discu^s.ioa. aX PO LTFin ANO UHARAUTKJt OF whicih J\1r. Allrn look a i»ruiniae%t parL lUit we (wnjiiioL luni-it. llu) jdt'HHUit'. «»r ruruniii.L-' fhjiociiilly (o liiii courhn on tho quoHtioii ..I' |M(t(.tiotin«^' I ho riyliU ol' lli« ()c',cu|iitnt, fjotllors. On lliiH Hubjtict ho I'oh. niid nuiaih'Hlrd a (lo

tt'..si'iilat.iveH : JJiaiAJJKS OK MR. ALLIilN, On un mmmlmnt off eyed hy hmnel/ to a Manor iul J'rvin the Smale, In nyuni to the rnUlc Lands, Mrt. ^iriCAKiui: — it mouuih (o luo lliat tl>o pvimo object l")r wliich the moiuuvial jusl lotul was iiiloiith'J, ha.s hvc[\ .'iilirely ovorloukotj. it muvoly a.ska Lho Uun^a-uHH of thi'. LlaitoJ iSLatoa for a ifliniiuislnnciit of the vacant ami lofuso lauds to il»o Slair «.!' 'rniii.'sM'c. lor llu^ u[h'.- cilii; purpOfciO of eadowiaj^' niid hiiildiii- up a (Jollouo iu tho VVt'Htorn Dhitiict. al, jMid.si.u. I will not oIIVt vt-a- Soua \v)»y au auioiml ..f huly IIkmi-uiiuI dollar:! riludl not be grautod to (hat divi.siou of lho ►Statu lor tiio vory lavul- ablo object proposed iu tlio uu'Uiurial. Hut I do caruost- ly insifit on luy auu'Uiluuud^, aBkiug hu- a prolounaliou ol time allowed to oucupaut hohlcrs to iuako payui«'ut for their flaiuis. It wouUl bo a mere reiteration of senli- n^ent cxpreaHod by uie ou a foruu'r occaaiou, to .say ibai T am in favor of tho pa^«.sago of a uu'morial that has for its object an extension of the tiiut-. allowed to settlers to pay for their oocnpants at llu* piice lixed by au iut ol Congveaa, under wITudi 'rrnurN.see is constituted the agent of tho Ui>vernaunt o( the I'nded States, to issue grants and perfect titles to the Hanie. The resolutions which 1 had tho hoiujr of introducing, raising a select committee, with instruction:, to report favorably in behall CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 8 i* <}f occupancy, evince the feeling by which I am actuated in securing to those upon public land the peaceful and undisturbed possession of their homes. But for this in- centive, I should not have presumed to tax the patience of the House v\^ith a single remark. A consciousness of imperative duty to those whose wishes I have the honor of representing upon this floor, demands that I should not be silent under such circumstances as those by which I am encompassed. To let the subject pass without an expression of my humble convictions, I would feel as if I were faithless and insincere towards an enlightened constituency. This is no new question. It has hitherto excited the faithful and studious attention of the purest and best men of the land, and it calls upon uSy in lan- guage not equivocal, to give further indulgence to set- tlers to pay for their occupants. I do not believe, and never can, without contradictory testimony, that Repre- sentatives upon this floor are disposed to resist a call that strikes, with such force upon their minds, and agi- tates every noble feeling that belongs to our nature. The exigency of the occasion — the unenviable con- dition of our people resting upon the precarious tenures by which their homes are held — and the inevitable force of circumstances too powerful to be disregarded, demand that the Legislature should, as far as it can, interpose its arm to protect them from the unjust encroachments of the speculator. These things speak a language that commands merited respect — a language that appeals to us cogently and persuasively. They ask, they implore us, sir, who are the legitimate guardians of their inter- ests, not to reject the petitions that are emanating from every cottage in the western and a portion of the middle division of our noble and chivalrous State — petitions, F ^ LIFE AND CnARACTER OF upon an inconsiderate rejection of wliicL, many warm hearts will be made to bleed, and many industrious and virtuous families bereft of the "sweets of a home." — Coming, as I do, fresh from the society of those about whom I have been speaking', I cannot be insensible of the embarrassing circumstances that attend them. They are, it is true, poor, but strictly and rigidly honest. — They participate alike with you, sir, and every disinter- ested patriot in this broad land, in whatever conduces to exalt and dignify the. American character. They ab- jure, in truth and in fact, oppression under any of its Protean forms and disguises. At all times and under every emergency, they hold themselves in readiness to defend their honored and beloved country from the un- provoked and ruthless attacks of an insulting foe. Many of them have already given indication of their inherent devotion to their country on 4jie memorable plains of New Orleans and other sanguinary conllicts in that war, which reflected a radiancy of glory around that proud State in whose emporium we are now convened. But why speak of these things? Are they not fresh and vivid in the recollection of every member entitled to a seat upon this floor? Mr. Speaker, they claim nothing for what they have done or suffered. Patriotism is ever disinterested, and asks no remuneration for its sacrifices. Its fires will ever burn upon the altar of brave hearts when liberty it- self is no more. Considerations of this character may pass for what they are worth. I have repeated, that the mass of the people South and West of the CongTCSsional Keservation Line, are poor. In confirmation of this as- servation, I need only appeal to those whose opportunities have been sufficient to ascertain their true condition. — CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 99 They all unite with me in expressing the conviction that they will not be able to save their occupants by the fir.s^ of next July. In such an emer^^cncy, the question naturally arises;, what is to be done? What can be eft'ected most conge- nial to the wishes of the people, and compatible with the interest of the country? Shall we, can we say, that be- cause they have had sufficent time and failed, they shall have no further indulgence? Our government will be influenced by no such pallry considerations. She will ever throw the broad, impenetrable segis of protec- tion around her own patriotic citizens. Under existing circumstances, what policy is it best for us to adopt? The pioneer settler is not to be neglected. Shall the only rav of comfort that dawns upon him from a cloudless sun be obscured by Legislative indifference? The question is not difficult of solution. No man can brook the thought of thousands of our fellow-citizens being unceremoniously dispossessed of their homes — of being snatched away, ruthlessly and mercilessly, from those sacred and fascin- ating retreats around which memory lingers with de- light. It is too revolting to the feelings — too painful for endurance. We hope for better things. We anxiously look forward to brighter and more halcyon days. The unobtrusive cottage upon some bleak hill or solitary waste, be it ever so humble, is a palace to the poor man. It belongs to him — to hini and his children after him. — That by granting further extension of time they will be better able to indemnify their claims, we cherish the most gratifying and reasonable hope. Unless indulgence i^ afforded, it is useless to disguise the fact that the condi- tion of the occupant claimant will be deplorable. This is no stretch of the imagination. It is truth unvarnished and unadorned. 8^4" LIFE AND CHARACTER OP The better and larger portion of our public domain has already been occupied at the government price, and the **rest and residue" is generally of a refuse character. It may be years to come before it would be settled under the provision of the present undefined law. Every con- sideration of policy and expediency require a further re- duction in the price. It will greatly advance the interest of the State in various ways, which I will not noio stop to consider. Upon the broad grounds of expediency, we base the success of this question. When our country is invaded by an insulting foe — when our soil is desecrated by the approach of a tyrant who boastingly threatens destruction and carnage — when the green graves of our immortal ancestry, who fought the battles of freedom, whose blood stained the field of valor and won for them undying glory, are to be disturb- ed — dishonored — whose sword is it that leaps instantane- ously from its scabbard to repel the invader? — whose arm lis not nerved for the conflict, and whose bosom is not .ready to breast the fury of the storm? The humble and obscure citizen, unknown to fortune and to fame, in whom patriotism is a virtue, and cowardice a crime, tenders his services at the first call, and forsakes family and friends to rescue his country from impending danger, or nobly perish in the trial. This is the man around whom we desire the govern- ment to throw the panoply of its protection. There is no violation of faith, nor constitution — no tarnishing of na- tional escutcheons — no obhteration of the stars and stripes that form a constellation upon our eagle-banner, connected with the successful termination of this trans- cendently important question. I have viewed it in all its dimensions and proportions, and am ready to sustain it. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 96i I know that the fearful destiny of thousands hang sus- pended upon our deliberation upon this subject. Let us pass this memorial, with the amendment, and in time to come the people will bless our memories for it. As for myself, I can return home to the bosom of a proud and free constituency, and tell them upon this question I was not ignorant of my duty, and knowing I discharged it faithfully and fearlessly." Upon the adjournment of the Legislature, early in 1846, Mr. Allen returned to his home in Lawrence county. He was greeted by his constituents with a cor- dial welcome, and a hearty approval of the manner in which he had discharged the trust committed by them to his hands. He had faithfully redeemed every pledge lie had made to them, and had shown that their confidence in him was not misplaced. Many who had been polit- ically opposed to him, were foremost in awarding to him their warm approval of the industry, ability and fidehty with which he had served them and watched over their interests. That which a patriotic public servant most highly prizes — the voluntary and hearty approbation of liis constituents — it was the fortune of Mr. Allen to enjoy. He had the high gratification of knowing that his labors were appreciated, and that he had added greatly to his prosperity. It had been the purpose of Mr. Allen when he closed his collegiate course, to qualify himself for the legal pro- fession. In consenting to become a candidate for the Legislature, he did not abandon the profession. When his labors as a Legislator terminated, he turned his at- tention with promptness and avidity to his law books, looking forward with anxiety to the time when he could m unz AND cuAUArncn ok enU'rupon (ho prolosNioii to Avhicli he li:ul ilodicatod liis hte. The study of the h\w is usually iv<^nrded as dry and unlntorosting, but to Mr. A lieu it was not so. Ih; found nothino- forhiddino- in ilu' ahstniso pa^es of JJlaok- stuno. ^VhiLst ho wasciianucd with tlio boauly and pu- rity of liis stylo, lio found in Ids volumes, the dovelop- niont of a scionoo which lostod upon the labors of nianv of the most exalted intelUrts that ever lived, lie did not lake up his law book as he would a novel — to g-o through the meohanieal jn-ocess of ninninf^" his eves over tlie pngesj and g-athorino; at a o-lanee the (Invad of the story. and in a liand-<'aiK>p (raeiiio' it to its iinal (knvvnncnf. He took up his book as a student, rcmemberini^ that %vhathe was about to read hail cost (he master-spirits of the profession years of intellectual toil, and knowiiu^ that the beauties of the science could only be ap|)recia(ed by a tliorouo-h comprehension of the eternal principles of right and justice, which lay at the foundation of the sys- lem. The study of the J.aw is irksome only to those Avho are averse to mental labors; but Mr, Allen derived his highest pleasure from that inlense application of the mind which develops hiilden trulhs, and hence he neither yawneil over lUackstone nor dreamed over Chitty, but read and studied them with delight. He engaged in tlie study of the Law with a proi)er ajipreciation of the dig- nity of the profession, and with a lirm delermination to lionor his callino-. it was whilst Mr Allen was assiduously eniTao-ed in preparing for the practice of the Law that he received in- lelligence of the invasion of our soil by the Mexican ar- my, in crossing the Uio Clrande. He did not stop to cab eulale the chances, or to consider the hardships or dan- gers of war, but maile up his mind with promptness, to CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 87 respond to any call which the Government might make for volunteer troops. His feelings upon receiving the in- telligence, may be best gathered from the following ex- tract of a speech which he prepared, and which he left amongst his papers. After describing the consumma- tion of the Annexation of Texas under the figure of a marriage ceremony, he proceeds as follows: — Now that the nuptial rites are celebrated and the con- viviality of which it was the occasion, what now do we hear? Gross murmurs of irreconcileablc hostility on the part of Mexico, who has been unfriendly to the United States, and an implacible enemy of Texas. Those who liave been lawfully joined together in holy wx*dlock, she presumes to put assunder. Gents, an armed soldiery of Mexicans have planted their standard upon American soil. The American army under the command of Gen. Taylor is beleaguered. The war cry has been raised — intense excitement prevails, no doubt all over the Union. Our citizens are marching towards the invading army re- solving to carry the war into the enemy's territory, and plant the star-spangled banner upon the walls of thf Montezumas. Thousands of brave hearts arc now beat- ing with anxiety for the call upon their valor and patri- otism — and when the proclamation does go forth, from one end of the Union to the other, brave hearts and strong arms will be ready to obey the summons. Men will rise up like the embattled hosts of llhoderic Dhu, with the pa- triotic determination to unsheathe the sword, and in obe- dience to the command of the Grecian matron to her son, to return with them, or to return upon them. Whether they approved of the marriage or not, tliey are unwilling to see Texas exposed to spoliation, insult and injury. — 88 LIFS i.ND CHARACTER OF Kather than this, they would be for waging a worse thai, Trojan war. Split up, as we have been by party, out enemies, no doubt, vainly imagined that we were a di vided people. But thanks to the indomitable patriotism of our people, when war's dread clarion is sounded, there is but one voice and one heart in this country, and that is an American voice and an American heart. There is but one banner under which they rally, and that is the banner of the country which waved in triumph in the dark hour of the revolution. Forever float tliat standard sheet ! Where breathes the foe but falls before us, With Freedom's soil beneath our feet, And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us! It was a remark of Lord Nelson at the battle of Trafalga, that England expects every man to do his duty. Let that be the motto to actuate us: that the United States expects every man to do his duty, and if he will do that, victory will be inscribed in golden characters upon our unfurled banner. From the manifestation of enthusiastic ardor and the ebulition of patriotic feeling, I cannot cherish the sem- blance of a doubt, but the call will meet with a prompt response. What, Gents, is your determination? Who is willing to go — who? The same spirit which actuated the brave and dauntless Indian chief Conanchet, will ac- tuate you, "we will light," says he, **to the last man, rather than become servants to the English." The pa- triotic sentiment of Old Armstrong who fell wounded at the battle of Enotochipco, will awake similar emotion.^ in your bosoms: — "Boys," says he, "some of you may fall, but save the cannon. Some of you may fall in the struggle, but let it be like brave men, with vour face to CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 89 the enemy." I liave no fears of the engagement. — Should it be our pleasure to participate in the glories of that war, we need but write back to our friends and rela- tions at home, that we came, and like the Roman gen- eral, we saw and conquered. Do you want lessons of fortitude and self-sacrificing devotion to country? Do you ask for examples of magnanimous and lofty bearing? If you do, I would point you to the gallant Lawrence, who wrapped himself up in his country's flag and ex- claimed, "don't give up the ship." I would point you to Wertherford an Indian chief in the late war, 6lc. What a commentary is this upon Tennessee chivalry? A few more words. Gents, and I have done. I have occupied, by the authority of the people, a station — a re- sponsible station in the councils of the State of Tenne.-- i^ce. For this mark of their confidence, I hope I ever shall be, and am truly thankful. I never shall forget it, let me be placed under whatever circumstances I may. When I forget it, may my right arm forget its coming, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth. May I as soon forget the object that clings the nearest my af- fections. I can now say without regret and afTectation, that I cherish no political aspirations at all. I have no personal advantage to seek — I desire none. All that I now seek is, that I may be permitted to blend my destiny with yours, whatever it may be. I surrender up any personal comfort which I may enjoy, without a murmur or complaint — *'sink or swim, live or die, survive or per- ish," I have resolved and re-resolved to be among the first to enlist my services in the defence of my injured country. The decree has gone forth, and its mandates will be obeved. 90 tIFB AND CHARACTER OF CHAPTER VII. Capt. Allen enlists as a Volunteer — Acted as Aid de Cnmp (c Gov. Brown — Declines the appointment of Quarter Master — Jlis Charge and Death at Monterey — Tributes to his Memory. The anticipated call for volunteer troops was soon made». and Mr. Allen enlisted as a private soldier in the Lawrenceburg Blues. This company was organized and in readiness when the proclamation for Volunteers ■wTis received. Its services wore immediately tendered by Capt. Alexander, and accepted by Gov. A. V. Brown. At the appointed time, Capt. Alexander marched his gal- lant band of volunteers to the point of rendezvous, near Nashville, where they were mustered into the service of the United States. Upon the arrival of the various com- panies at Nashville, Gov. Brown appointed ^Mr. Allen his special Aid de Camp during the stay of the troops at their rendezvous near the city. He discharged the du- ties of the appointment until his company were embarked for New Orleans, when he again resumed his position as a private. He served in this capacity until the company to which he was attached arrived at the encampment at Lometa, Mexico, when Captain Alexander resigned hh command, and ^Ir. Allen Avas unanimously chosen as liis fuccessor. He was not a candidate, nor did he desire the command, but his companions in arms determined that they would be led by him, and he yielded to their wishes. Under the circumstances, this was the highest compli- ment which he could have received, and he so esteemed CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 91 \t. He saw in it the liigh confidence which his comrades reposed in him, as well as their warm personal attach- ment to him. lie determined that nothing but death j^hould separate him from his command, and under this feeling of devotion to his companions, when President ]^olk tendered to him the rank of Major in the army, lie declined the promotion. Writing to his father from Ca- margo, on this subject, he said: "I was gratified to learn that the President had given me the appointment al- luded to in your letter. The rank and pay of Major <3Ught to be considered as very desirable to some, but 1 cannot abandon my company for the highest appointment in the gift of the President. The boys say they will go under nobody else." All of his letters on his march, are characterized by the same lofty patriotism which breathes throughout the speech which has been quoted, whilst his allusions to his company are always in terms of the warm- est affection. "When about to leave Camargo for Monterey, he was compelled to leave behind about twenty of his company on account of sickness and debility. This was extremely painful to him, and in a letter to his father, he speaks thus feelingly of his comrades: " I have thirty-five or forty of my original company, who are still able to march with me. They feel like brothers to me. J. regret to leave behind those who are on beds of afflic- tion. I hope they will soon rejoin their friends. May the great God protect them and support them in all their trials and afflictions." Amongst the number thus left behind, was his brother, Sam Houston, to whom he waa much devoted, and for whose safety he felt the deepest concern. In another letter from Camargo, about the same date, he refers to the fact that Gen. Pillow was left behind, in terms so complimentary to that brave officer, 92 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF that it is due to liim that the testimony should be record- ed. He says: **We will leave to-morrow or next day; we are placed under the command of Gen. Quitman, of Mississippi. Gen. Pilllowis left behind. We all regret his being- left behind. We want to be led by him and no other. He is the very man for the occasion. Although men have endeavored to prejudice the minds of the sol- diers against him previous to his arrival, he has proved be he very man for them. No man could be more pop- ular." Accompanying this letter, Capt. Allen forwarded the following to the Xashville Union: Camp Near Camargo, Sept. 1, 1846. To Brigadier Gen. G. J. Pillow, Sir: — Having been detached upon temporary duty, under the command of Brigadier Gen. Quitman, we deem it due no less to yourself than to the men under your command, to express to you our high sense of the value of your services, the sense of regret with which the officers of the first regiment of your Brigade, and the men under our command pass temporarily from under your command. We assure you, sir, that we fully appreciate the un- ceasing exertions which you have made since assuming command of this Brigade, to reheve the distresses and afflictions of the sick, and your efforts to introduce and carry into effect, a proper system of discipline, and to fit your command for the active duties of the field. While we bear this testimony of our high regard for you per- sonally, and of the eminent qualifications for your com- mand, we assure you, that the men under our command concur with us in this expression of our views and feel- CAPT. "VfM. B. ALLEN. .93 :ngs, and that there is not to our knowledge any diversity of opinion from these views in our regiment. We enter- tain the hope that you will be ordered forward with your Briirade in a short time, and that we will be restored to our proper place in your command, and if it be our fortune to participate in the conflicts with the enemy, that we may be led into the field of battle by Tennessee's own son, whose reputation, feelings and sympathies are iden- tical with ours. We remain most respectfully, yours, &c. [Signed by all the Officers of the Regiment except one Company.] The last letter written by Capt. Allen will be read with peculiar interest. It was addressed to his parents, and is as follows: — Seralto, Mexico, Sept. 14th 184G. Mr Dear Parents: I never wanted to see you so badly in my life. I arrived here yesterday with my com- pany, together with the 1st Regiment Tennessee Volun- teers. We leave here in the morning for Monterey. AVe are about 60 or 70 miles from Monterey, and about the same distance from Camaro-o. The battle will be fouo-ht O D in a few days. They (the enemy) are fortifying the place. They are reported as being ten or twelve thou- sand strong. Give my love to all my friends. I have this day sent my resignation to the President, who appointed me Quarter-master. The boys are un- willing to be commanded by anybody else. By the ^race of God, I will try and lead them without dishonor .0 victory. I have a sword that was worn by my father, which jhall not be dishonored in my hands. Your SOD, WM. B. ALLEN 94 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF When tills letter was written, it was well understood that a battle was to be fought in a few days. The tone which pervaded it shows the spirit in which Capt. Allen led his gallant company, one week after, in the bloody charge at Monterey. On the 21st of September, 1846, that charge was made, and whilst it resulted in one of ilie most briUiant victories which crowned the American arms in the Mexican war, it sent many brave spirits to a premature grave. Soon after the battle an officer, of the Lawrenceburg Blues addressed a letter to ihe father of Capt, Allen, which describes with so much minuteness the part borne by him in the charge, and the manner of his fall, that its insertion in full length becomes proper: Camp Neau Monterey, Mexico, ) Oct. 5th, 1846. i" Dear Sir: — I embrace the present opportunity of writ- ing you that you may know the state of the Lawrence- burg Blues at present. . Our Captain, Wm. B. Allen, with nine of the company, are numbered with the dead. Our encampment is situated between 3 and 4 miles from the forts and batteries of the city. On the 20th there was some reconnoiterino- and cannonadinof between the two armies, which lasted for two hours, when we retired to the camp with no loss. The eventful and long to be remembered morning of the 21st of September arrived. The volunteers were eager for the contest. We arrived in front of the forts and batteries — the Ohioans and Kentuckians on the right, the Tennesseans and Missis- .^^ippians in the centre, the Baltiraoreans and Regulars on the left. In that position we stood the cannonading for at least half an hour. There our brave and lament- ed Captain partook of a hearty meal said, "Boys if I di^ CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 95 to-day I shall die with a full stomach.'* At that mo- ment the Baltimoreans and Regulars were ordered to charire the batteries on t!ie left, but shrunk back in con- fusion and dismay. The order Tennesseans liad, left Hank, left face, charge men, charge. Our company in front, and ever anon could our Captain's voice be heard saying, ^'Come on my brave boys, come on, close up, close up. In that position for near tv/o miles, were we exposed to the raking tires of two batteries and the noted black fort, one ball taking effect in our company, which sent seven brave souls to eternity. Then again was the shout from our brave Captain heard through the smoke, "come mx my brave boys, come on." About seventy yards from the fort the command halt was pivcn, and then the light with musketry commenced. Allen's voice was then again steadily heard saying, "Boys take good aim, don't let them tire that cannt^n again." And well thoy obeyed that command, for that cannon ceased to fire. — Our Captain was shot through the breast with a musket ball, and looking around said, "Boys, I must die," (and in another letter he said, "I am dying, hurra my brave boys.") He died bravely, with his sword unsheathed and firmly grasped in his hand. The word charge was then given, and Lawrence county has the honor of hav- ing the first man there. Geo. H. Nixon was the first man on the ramparts of that fort. There he flourished his sword and said, "boys come on, my brave boys, come on." I have only written as far as your son was con- cerned in the first day's battle. The letters and private property of Capt. Allen are now in the possession of Lt. Nixon, which will be taken care of and returned to you. I'efore his death I heard him often remark, that he had assured his father that that sword should never be dis- 36 LIPS AND CHARACTER OP honored in his son's hands; and that pledge has been ful- filled. The sword will again be^-eturned to you, as it ha^ been secured for that purpose. The following are the names of those killed and wounded belonging to the Law- renceburg Blues: Killed — Capt. Wm. B. Allen, Finley Glover, Wm. Rhodes, J. B. Burkitt, J. M. L. Campbell, J. W. Wilson, A. J. Gibson, J. W. Saunders, A. J. Ea- ton, A. A. Pratt. Wounded — G. H. Nixon, slightly in the knee; M. D. Watson, in the thigh; J. M. Bailey, do; Jesse Brashears, in the head, (glanced) arm and back: J. W. Curtis, in the shoulder and foot; H. H. Dotson, shoulder; T. C. Ramsey, right arm shivered and ampu- tated above the elbow; A. C. Richardson, do.; W. M. Al- ford, through the right side; M. C. Abernathy, thigh, slightly; A. S. Alexander, through the left arm; J. H. Kay, leg taken off above the knee; C. Boyd, thigh; J. Gavin, do.; Aaron Parks, shoulder, slightly; J. Vining, body and foot; F. Richardson, through thigh, badly; B. L. Cannon, slightly. They are all getting on finely and will no doubt get vreil. D. HUBBARD, 0. S. Laiorencehurg Blues. Such was the premature termination of the career of one of the most promising young men of the State. — Until his fall was announced, it was not known by his warmest friends how enviable a reputation he had formed. It is no exageration to say that the news of his death spread a general gloom over the State. By his election to the Legislature under the circumstances already de- tailed, by the commanding position which he occupied in that body, and by his prompt response to the call for volunteers, he had enhsted the warm interests of a wide CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 97 tircle of friends throughout the State. When the intelli- gence arrived, that young Allen had fallen, though he had fallen gloriously, in the battle of Monterey, it filled the hearts of thousands -with grief. A high destiny had been predicted for him, and he was expected to return home crowned with laurels — but how inscrutable are the ways of Providence? For some wise purpose, be- yond motal ken, it was meet that the fond hopas of ad- miring friends and aiFectionate relations should be disap- pointed. To such an afflicting dispensation, it becomes all to bow with humility, and to derive from the manner of his death, all the consolation that is afforded in know- ing that he fell gloriously. There was a sublimity in his fall which no language can portray. Many a hero has been deified for e.cploits far less chivalrous than was young Allen's daring charge. He fell when the victory was won, and his list words were worthy of a dying hero. When the fated ball entered his breast, he fell firm- ly grasping the sword which had been worn by his ven- erable father, and wii-h his last breath uttered a shout of encouragement and victory, ^'Hurrah, my brave bovs." There is something touchingly melancholy in the death of a young man of promise. It blasts so many fond hopes of parents and friends. It makes an aching void in the hearts o^ so many confiding associates — it disap points the expectations of so many admiring acquaint- ances. But how .nuch more painful is the shock, when such an one falls suddenly, in the vigor of health, in a foreign land, in the very act of achieving an exploit of heroism which would have won for him influence and honor through life. It was the fate of young Allen so u» fall, and to terminate his short, but bright career. G 93 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? The death of Capt. Allen called forth many warm trib- utes of respect for his memory, and many eloquent eulo- giums upon his charcter, both in prose and verse. A few of these may be appropriately inserted to show how deeply his death was regretted, and how sincerely his vir- tues were admired. The members of the Erosophian Society, attached to the Nashville University, adopted the following tribute: Erosophian Hall, Nov. 21, 1846. At the last regular meeting of the Society, the follow- ing preamble and resolutions were introduced by Mr. Robert Eakin Deery, in regard to the Death of Captain William B. Allen, and adopted: Whereas — We have received the melancholy news of the death of William B. Allen, late a Captain in the United States Army of Invasion, and who was for a num- ber of years, a true, faithful and efficient member of this Society; possessed of a fine order of talents and an in- domitable energy combined with all the virtues that dig- nify man. And vjhereaSy the sad tidings has thrown a cloud of gloom and despondency over us, and reminded us that the winged messenger Death, has plucked from our midst one of our former associates, who v^^as kind, magnanimous and brave, and snatched from the State one whose prospects for future usefulness and greatness were bright and glowing. And whereas, his whole course in College auguered a high destiny for him, and this was in some degree strengthened by the fact that in a few months after his graduation, he was chosen by the peo- ple who had long known him, and could appreciate his worth, to represent them in the representative branch of the last Legislature. Nor was his patriotism bounded by CAPT. WM. E. ALLEN. 1*9 a narrow cirde. For when a call for Volunteers was made, he early enrolled himself, and met his death at Monterey while urging his men to victory. Although the sting inflicted, is soothed and chastened by the happy reflection that he fell gloriously fighting in his country's cause, yet wc deeply and sensibly feel that his vacancy can never be filled, and in common with all his acquaint- ances, we not only mourn his loss to our Society, but to the State in general. Therefore, Be it Resolvcdy That we tender to his bereaved parents our sincerest sympathies in the loss of so kind, affection- ate and promising a son. Be it Resolved, That as a token of our high esteem for his memory, we wear the usual badge of mourning for thirty days, and that the "Star" in the Hall be shroud- ed in mourninfi: for the same lenirth of time. Be it Resolved, That a copy of these proceedings be forwarded to his parents, and also furnished the city pa- pers for publication. BENJ. F. PRICE, Rres. C. L. Daugherty, Sec. Gov. Campbell, the Colonel- Commandant of the Regi- ment to which Capt. Allen had belonged, in a letter lo his father, spoke as follows: — Camp Allen, Near Monterey, / October 2G, 184G. [ Gen. Allen — JDear Sir: You will long before this reaches you, have received the painful intelligence of the death of your worthy and gallant son, Capt. William B. Allen, who fell in the attack upon Monterey, on the 21st of September last. He had, during his service in the army, distinguished himself by his kind and gentlemanly 100 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF demeanor, and by his prompt and officer-like conduct; and when the day of batt\e came, he was at the head of his column, and lead it most gallantlj to the charge made upon one of the enemies strong forLilioations by the 1st. Regiment of Tennessee Yalunteers, until the fatal shot from the enemy struck him down and deprived him of life. I deeply regret the death of that eminent and gal- lant officer, and sympathize mosl sincendy with you and his friends for his loss. He was a young man of great promise, and would, had he survived tliis campaign, have taken a very high rank in the estimation of his country- men. In a letter written from Camp Allen, in Mexico, Col. Anderson, the Lieutenant- Colonel of the Regiment, al- luded to Capt. Allen as follows : I had intended to say in my statement of the fight of the 21st, that when within some four hundred yards of the fort, a cannon ball struck Cynpt. Allen's company, and cut down seven men, four of them were killed on the ground, and within some 130 yards of the fort, Captain Allen himself received a mortal shot and fell at the head of his company, leading it, as he was most gallantly, to the charge. In honor of his heroic bravery on that day, our present encampmerd has been named "Camp Allen." He deserves, as does all the brave sons of Tennessee, who fell on that day, an imperishable remembrance is the memory of txktry true patriot. In an eloquent speech delivered by Col. Guild, of Sumner County, upon a proposition to erect a suitable Monument to commemorate the brave deeds of the volun- teers from Sumner County, who had fallen in battle, h© wade the following beaulifu! alksioo tj Capt. Allea ; CAPT. WM. B. ALLIN 101 Among others who fell in that great charge, was Capt. Wm. B. Allen, of Lawrence. I served with him in our last Assembly; I know him well, and no man who ever did, but was his friend. His mind was richly stored with all the learning of the day, united to a large and pa- triotic heart. He was not only the soul of honor, but pink of chivalry. If he had survived that great battle, there was no man of higher promise of future usefulness to our State, or who would have shown forth a more bril- liant star. Not only these but many other promising young Tennesseans, now sleep in death. Although they will never return, to light up and make cheerful the houses of their parents, and enjoy the plaudits of their country, yet they have left names, which are priceless gems to their respective families, not only reflecting honor upon them, but upon their country. " Ah how hard it is to, climb, The steeps where fame's proud Tomplc shines afar. Ah, who can tell how many a heart sublime? Hath felt the influence of malignant star. And with fortune, waged an eternal war." We saw our brave Tennesseans climb those heights, wc saw them arrive at the Temple, and with their lives snatch the fame their patrotism sought. While we glorv in the honor they have acquired, and partake of the fame they have given their country, we must deeply lament Iheir early death. It remains for a grateful country to cherish their memories, and perpetuate their virtues. We do so by erecting a suitable monument to our fallen brave ; by so doing we not only indicate a proper feeling of gratitude to those who have given their lives to their country, but we show a proper appreciation of the noble Tirtues which mark the patriot: it will excite the rising 102 LIFE AND CU ARACTER OF generations to rally around the Eagle of their country,— sustain our free institutions, and emulate the virtues of these we intend to honor. These result swil ]not only be produced, but by the erection of this monument we per- petuate the military fame of our State, which is blended with our honored slain. The editor of the Cohcmbia Beacon announced the death of Captain Allen in the following highly complimentary terms: — DEATH OF CAPTAIK ALLEIS^ The death of this gallant young man who fell as he was leading on his brave men to victory, has caused uni- versal regret in our community, and throughout this part of the State. He was one of Tennessee's noblest sons. Although he had only arrived at the age of twenty-three years, lacking a few months, he had made for himself great character. He was one of the most prominent members of the last Legislature, and was a general favorite with his own party, and at the same time he commanded the respect and esteem of his opponents. His death has been lamented by his political opponents as well as his political friends. So much was he attach- ed to his men, and so much were they attached to him, that although he was offered higher offices than the one which he held, yet rather than leave his company, he de- clined the promotion. Such instances of devoted attach- ment as this are rarely met with. We have never known the death of a young man to cause so deep a feeling of sorrow, and be a source of such general grief. He had received a liberal education, and gave every promise of extensive usefulness and great distinction. But to those who knew him best, with whom he mingled in the scenes CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 103 of private life, and who saw him around the domestic hearth, has his h^ss caused the greatest anguish. Twas not as a legislator nor as a soldier they saw in him his brightest qualities, but as an associate, and friend and re- lation. His parents have the consolation of knowing that he died fighting the battles of his country at the head of his brave company. He was a member of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, and had lived a life consistent with his high pro- fession. The writer of this portion of the sketch of the lifp of Capt. Allen, was editior of the Xashville Union when the news of his death was received. He will be par- doned for inserting the poor, but heartfelt tribute, which he then paid to the memory of one to whom he had been warmly attached : — From the NasliviUe Union. CAPT. WILLIAM B. ALLEJf. It is difficult for us to realize the sad fiict that this no- ble youth lies cold in the arms of death at Monterey — and the distressing truth cannot be resisted. Wm. B. Allen has fallen, and sleeps the sleeep of death in a for- eign land. He fell gloriously, whilst leading his brave company to victory, and if anything could blunt the kee^ anguish which his untimely death will produce in the bosoms of his venerable parents and his numerous rela- tives and friends, it will be the fact that he fell like a true solder, with his face to the enemy. We deplore his death as a sad calamity to the State — we had few such young men amongst us. He had scarce reached his twenty- first year, when he was honored by a seat in our last Legislature. In that body he distinguished himself by 104 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF liis assiduous devotion to the interests of his constituents, and by those unwavering evidences of high talents whicli he displayed in all the discussions in which he engaged. He had received a liberal education at the Nashville University, and his pathway to fame was rendered brighter and brighter to the hour of his death. When the call for Volunteers was made, he was prompt in en- roUing himself for the battle-field. He became a favor- ite with all his comrades in arms. After becoming fully acquainted v/ith his merits, he was chosen to lead the gal- lant company in which he volunteered as ft pi'ivate. He led that noble company into the city of Monterey, and there fell crowned with glory. The same energy and force of character which marked him out for some high destiny whilst he was yet a school-boy, signahzed his whole course after he arrived to the age of maturity. — When he fell, gloriously leading our victorious troops, lie had scarcely reached his twenty-third year — how bright were his propects? He had talents of the very first or- der — his mind was highly cultivated — he was calm, de- liberate, prudent, yet energetic,^ industrious and ambi- tious of an honest fame. He was on the highway to the temple at whose shrine his generous and noble soul wor- shipped, and few at his age, have made so much pro- gress in climbing the steep hill on whose top stands the temple. But in the midst of his brilhant career, in the very morning of his life, and whilst winning fresh laurels for his own brow in one of the hardest fought battles on record, he has been cut off — his bones are now resting with his brave comrades who fell by his side at Monte- rey, but his name will live as long as the world shall pre- serve its admiration of deeds of noble daring in the field of battle. We sympathise most sincerely with his afiiict- CAPT. WM. E. ALLEN. 105 ed parents — tliey have lost a son on whom they might ■well doat — he was their pride, and well he might be. — We lament his untimely death most sincerely-^his loss is a calamity to the State. -He was our friend — tried and approved — true and faithful under all circumstances — we i^hail never cease to cherish for his memorv the warmest feelincrs of affection. 105 LXFE AJ*D CBARACTER OF CHAPTER YIIL Tributes of Respect to his Memory — Letter, *fec., of M. C. Gal- loway, Esq., — Ceremonies of his Funeral — Col. Rome's Ad- dress — His Brother, Sam Houston Allen's death. In the following poetical tributes, the reader will find how deeply imbedded Capt. Allen was in the hearts of "his friends: From the Colmnhia Ohserver. ' B E A T H OF ALLEN.* BY DAVID R. ARNELL. Before Monterey's walls he lay. Between the dark and light. And the smile that lit the Soldier's brow Illumin'd the Land of Night; — For he saw in his sleep the squadrons sweep Through the rush of the morrow's fight. He snatched from its sheath his bright blue blade. When the drum first tapped Reveil, And he saw the city a league away. In the dawn-light dim and pale. And the flags borne on by the marsh'ling hosts. Like clouds in a driving gale. He saw them marching slowly down The hill, and his soul could fed * Capt. William B. Allen, of Lawrence County, who Tvas killed in the late brilliant action at Monterey. W^e hope our respect and friendship for the brave young officer, will be con- sidered a sufficient apology for the appearance of the above Poem, though, to say sootli, we could have wished the tribute had fallen from an abler pen. I>. R. A. CAPT. WM. B. ALLE^^ 10* A thrill of a"we at those moving forma, And those ranks of bristling steel, — "Oh, fear of death! should a man," he said, "With girlish faintness reel?" And then in a martial tone, he spake, "Brave comrads ! charge the foe," Good Heaven! it was a glorious sight To see those plumes stoop low, And the serried men with fear again Back in their fortress go. 4 Rode by his GenGral on a steed That snuff M the fight afar. And swallowed the ground at each furious bound. And said 'raid the trumps, "ha! ha!" While the field all round his reeking path Blushed like Aceldama. Out spake old " Rough and Ready" then, — •'Burst on them through the wall," — 'Twas answered by a deaf 'uing roar, And the thundering cannon ball. And a crash, as when a thousand oaks In a lonely forest fall. Then he heard a mighty shout go up. Like the voice of myriad waves, "Ho! Mexique soldiers fill the breach. Or be forever slaves !" And the death wind like a tempest blast. Tore the banners off their staves. But the hurricane rushed on amain, — They fled like driven leaves. While fort and tower fell crumbling down. As when an earthquake heaves, And the men who guarded them were "swept Like icicles " from their eavea. ]08 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF Yet still at the head of his band, he led Their steps where a foe might seem, And his crimson sword in the seething smoke Fiam'd like a lightning gleam; — Till, anon, a thunderous roll of drums Shook the battle of his dream. A shout! and the dieamer knew full well 'Twas the children of the Free That were hurling their cry through the shattcr'd skj. To the God of Victory,— And his soul had well nigh burst its chain, lu its triumphant, glee. A change swept over the sleeper's brow: — He weened not of space between The battle-field and his pleasant home, — The Gulf and the mighty Stream And thousands of miles had all been pats'd lu the whirlwind of his dream. The homestead smiled in the pjeasant light Of a sweet September morn, — He could hear the crush of the reaper's hands Amid the golden corn, " Be still, distracting thoughts," he cried, "Of war's mad folly born." His Parents stood at open door. Their words were few and meek, He tried to tell of the glorious fight, But his lips refused to speak! And now like a burning seal they lay Upon his sister's cheek. Oh, wealth of Love! what charm hath fame? That men make mock of thee, — He would not have given that moment's joy For a tenfold victory; — But hark I young soldier, the spell is broke, 'Tis the drum beats Reveille. CAPT. ?ri,:. B. ALLEN. 109 He woke — Eistorif page will tell What glorious deeds were done, — But woe for the dreamer ! he hath no part Beneath the golden sun.- - Oh! weep for that brave young friend of ours, Who a soldier's grave hath won. Maury County, Nov. 9. From the Academist. ON THE DEATH OF OAPTAIN" WILLIAM B. ALLEJf . At Monterey — as the soldiei joys to die, The flag of his counny, waving; o'er him high, The gallant Allen fell on ihi^ battle plain, Where laurels we^e dyed iu dark crimson stain; Where shouts of victory on liie free breeze floats, And cheers of triump'i swell, 'midst wild war notes, Foremost there, in fi^ht aiuoufT that gallant band, Young Allen fall — the pride of his native land. He fell as the soldier — -and c 'Im be his rest, With green laurels crowi.c ci — '.y his country blest — And old age, and manh(r •!, .vit: echo his fame. Repeating the valliani ani Miuc'. cherished name. Whilst the spirit of yruiu. \\ko a charirer spurred ^ By the clarion's sw^dl — a!; i -^^ i/| jrious word, Will be thristling for horor, unci spurning at fear. And bounding to follow young Allen's career. He died, upon the ensanguined battlf^ plain. Where laurels are fresiiened vvitu dark crimson rairt. Where the loud roiling drum, and the fife's shrill tone, Nerves the soldier to stifle the huv death groan. Where the clasp of the soldier's c<^Id hand, thrill, Anhall he heed the soundiiifr bugle horn, And to the battle-field return. No more shall San Juan's yellow wave, At midnight hour his funeral dirge be, Friendship has wrought him a prouder grave In the sunny land of the free. There he may lie and sweetly sleep, His deeds all done but not forgot. While love his early doom shall weep, And fancy immortalize the spot. Boon's IlllL 1817. PHILAZMA. LINES, IN MEMORY OF CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN, WHO FELL AT MONTEREY- SON OF GEN. R. H. ALLEN, OF LAWRENCE COUNTY, TENN. ^Vhen the fierce battle-cry was heard Upon the far-famed Rio Grande, Where the base Mexicans had dared To set their foot on Freedom's land; The brave young Allen was among The first who cried, "To arms! lets go, AVe must defend our country's wrong, Drive back the insolent Mexican foe." He was his father's pride and boast; His mother's dearest, fondest hope — Those who best knew him loved him most. The favorite of the household group. He had just began life's grand career, His course was like a brilliant star — When of his country's wrongs did hear, 114 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF He hastened to the seat of war; The Lawrence boys chose him chief, To lead them on at Monterey — ''Brave boys," said he, "I'll be your chief. Then on to death or viclory." He then girt on his sword and said: "This is the sword my father gave — It shall be honored till I'm dead, It has ne'er been worn but by the brave." And when the mighty conflict came, There was brave Allen with his band. In the front of batlle, winning fame, By valorous deeds, with daring hand; Just as the foe was put to flight, The fatal ball then ends my story — Young Allen fell in glorious fight, He sleeps in death, all crowned with glory. JIherdcen, Dec. 20, 1846. Florence, Alabama, Oct. 12, 1852. Gf.n. R. IL Allen — Dear Sir: Herevrith enclosed YOU will please find the liasty and imperfect editorial tribute, which I paid to the memory of your dear, de- parted son, through the columns of my paper, the Flor- ence Gazette. The death of your son has often impressed me with sad and melancholy reflections. He had, I be- lieve, just finished a collegiate education. He was fresh from tlie Legislative Halls of his native State. His mighty heart beat "high and warm," and in the lan- guage of England's great Bard, life seemed a "banquet, a song and a dance." He was the soul of chivalry.— CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 115 His majestic form was as tall and stately as the strong oak, while his beaming countenance gave an unerring reflex to the kindness, goodness and sweetness which swelled his noble bosom. Thus he left his "aged pa- rents" — the ease and comfort of a happy home, full of lusty life, ilis heart was filled with sanguine expecta- tions, and deeds of noble emulation. Under the stream- ing folds of his country's banner, he marched forlh amid the fiery torrent. The iron grape that grevr in such fatal clusters and so luxuriantly on the hill-sides of Monterey was poured upon him, but he blenched not. — His fiery young heart seemed stirred to courageous mad- ness, as his comrades fell by his side, and he rushed on with impetuous madness: But, alas! alas!! just as the enemy was vanquished, and the trumpet shout of victorv was heard, your poor boy received a mortal wound, and his red blood mingled with his neighbors. It was then " Hope for a season bade the world farewell, And freedom shrieked a requium as he fell." Methinks I see the young brave now, as he lay prostrate upon the stricken field which his ov/n valor had already won. As he lay breathing out his heart-stricken soul, gush after gush, the earthquake voice of victory filled his ears, and as he proudly turned his dying gaze upon the triumphant stars and stripes, he made one faint ef- fort to shout "vidon//" but his great heart fluttered, and his soul winged its flight to eternity. "His countrymen wept, that in life's brightest bloom. One gifted so highly should sink to the tomb; For in ardor he led in the van of the host. And fell like a soldier — he died at fas post. 116 LIFE AND CHARACTER 0? lie wept not himself that his warfare was done — The battle was fought and the victory won ; But he whisper'd to those that his heart clung to mo^it Tell my countrymen that / died at my post. He ask'd not a stone to be sculptur'd in verse ; ■ He ask'd not that fame his merits should reliearse ; But he asked as a boon, wlien he gave up th<; ghost, That his friends jnight know how he died at his post." For the death of your son, the tears of the nation fell fast and free; but they flow rather for the living than the dead — for the nation that has lost such a patriot, for you and for the heart-broken mother. For these, we weep tears, bitter, hearfc-felt tears ; but not for your gal- lant boy, for we rather envy his enviable fate. He ful- filled the highest destiny man owes to the world — he died for his country. I know that in the person of your son was garnered up all the treasure of your affections. To hira you looked as the solace of your declining years, and his untimely deathlias no doubt sorely lacer- ated and bruised your bosom. It is a chrushing stroke, and I presume that neither your philosophy or your man- hood can repress the sad sigh, or stifle the falling tears; but I trust you will in spme degree be consoled by the reflection that a grateful nation has already inscribed the name of William B. Allen upon its annals, and long after you and I have passed off to the "silent land of the sleepers," and taken up our abode in the "silent city of the dead," his name will be cherished fresh and green in the hearts of his countrymen. I believe, in the quiet seclusion of your own garden rests the remains of your gallant son, and as you repair at twilight eve, amid singing birds and blooming flowers, to pay homage to his memory, you can point to the monument which lifts its tall spear to the skies, and say in the language CAPT. -WM. B. ALLBN. 117 of the Roman mother as she held up her children — *' These — these are my jewels.'' These reflections have, I may say, almost involuntarily suggested themselves to my mind in contemplating- the death of your son. I write them hurriedly, without time for reflection or re- vision, you will therefore excuse all inaccuracies. With ray best wishes for your happiness, 1 remain Very respectfully, your friend, M. C. GALLAWAY. From the Florence, {Ala.) Gazette, Not. 7, 184G. THE DEATH OF WILLIAM B. ALLEN. While the whole nation is rejoicing over the triumph which perched upon our banner in the recent battle at Monterey, the heart of the patriot almost involuntarily turns from its rejoicing, to mingle its tears over the graves of those who fell. The fall of William B. Al- len, of the Tennessee Volunteers, has evoked the imi- ver.sal sorrow of the American people. His fate is a melancholy one. It affords another exemplification of the old old adage, that "death loves a shing mark" — that the brightest and best, the youthful and beautiful are the objects at which the relentless monster ever aims Ids unerring arrows. Just in the bloom of manhood — fresh from his College studies and from the halls of his State Legislature — with his young breast swellirfg wiih a thousand dreams which the young alone can weave — of patriotism, ambition, love and hope — he has fallen on the battle-lield, on a bleak and foreign strand, and has brought mourning upon his venerable parents. When a call was made for Volunteers,, Capt. Allen or- ganized a brave and chivalrous band of patriots. Their country only beckoned, and these magnaBiraouB sons 118 LIFB AND CHARACTER OF thronged to enlist themselves beneath the broad folds of her glorious standard. They rallied to the rescue, and while young Allen was gallantly leading on his brave men, and nobly driving back the cohorts of oppression— the mercenary hirelings of despotism, he, with many of his spartan band, fell. Just as the proud flag of his country was about to wave in triumph over the field of battle, he fell '•Gloriously fighting in a glorious cause." He was buried with all the honors of war, in the midst of the tears of his fellow-soldiers. It is said no cowardly fear blenched his mnnly cheek. He knew his end, and departed without a murmur, and with an abi- ding confidence in the mercy and goodness of his Re- deemer. He went thither at the requisition of his God, and as a soldier for Eternity. He has, ere this, answered to the new roll-call, and we believe his patriotism and his goodness will give him a peaceful parole in Heaven. Light rest the turf on his bosom! The genius of his country will guard the spot hallowed by the remains of the patriot that has died in her cause. Let us pay hia memory that homage worthy the great cause in whick he fell. Let the youth of tlic country repair around his grave as around the shrines of liberty, to catch the Sre of inspiration, and as they pass the green turf that rise* over his slumbering form, let them exclaim in t-he ful- fiess of their hearts: — "This shall resist the empire of decay, When time is o'er, and v/orlds Iiavc passed awaj: Cold in the dust his perip,])od heart may lie. Bit that which w&rmed it once will never dk." CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 119 Akhough Capt. Allen fell in a distant land, his friends have the consolation of knowing that his remains are now quietly resting in the County of Lawrence. — The following account of the ceremonies which took place when his remains reached home and were interred, will be found deeply interesting : From the Lawrencchnrg Times. HONOR TO THE BRAVE— THE FUNERAL. On Saturday last, the remains of the late Captain William B. Allen arrived at his father's residence, from Monterey, Mexico. Yesterday, about a thousand of his friends and acquaintances assembled to commit his body to the tomb. The day being fair and pleasant, a very large number of ladies were present. The body of the gallant dead was soldered up in a leaden cofiin, within another of mahogany, on which a large silver plate, bearing the name of the deceased, was fastened. Hundreds were there, who about nine months since, took leave at the same place of the friend tliey had now met to bury. They remembered, and often remarked the contrast between this and that assemblage. Then, with buoyant feelings and brilliant hopes, the brave Al- len left his home at the call of his* country; they .saw him depart with pride and pleasure. Now, they met in sorrow, to mingle their tears with those of a large and respectable circle of his friends and relatives. We hare never attended any funeral where there was such gen- eral and deep sorrow depicted in the countenances of ihe spectators. The order of procession to the grave was, as near s.» we can recollect, as follows: The Hearse with Military €.%- coris, attended hy Music on each Jiank. Tha Reiaiivts 120 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF The Clergy, The Monurnent Commiiice. The Ladies. — The Citizens. The fine volunteer company from Mt. Pleasant, com- manded by Capt. Alexander Terry, with such part of Ool. Tarkington's Clay Guards as could be hastily as- sembled, formed the escort. The whole conducted by the Marshal of the day and his associates, S. E. Rose, A. S. Alexander, A. 0. Richardson, and Thomas C, Ramsey. The two last gallant youths were the observed of all observers, having each lost an arm at the assault on Monterey. At the grave the usual ceremonies took place, with military honors. We believe that notwithstanding the great number of persons assembled with carriages and horses, such was the order and decorum preserved, that not the slightest accident occurred. At the close of the ceremonies. Chief Marshal, S. E. Rose, Esq., delivered the sword of Capt. Wm. B. Allen to his father, Gen. R. H. Allen, accompanied by a few appropriate remarks, that exhibited his power and elo- quence. We have seldom, if ever, hstehed to a more touching, a more eloquent discourse. The following i§ the beautiful Address made by Mr. Rose on this melancholy occasion: — MR. ROSE'S ADDRESS. Ladies and Gentlemen: — I have been honored to- day with wearing the sword of William B. Allen. — Language would fail to portray my feelings, or express the deep emotions of my heart. I received this sword with the pride of a soldier, and I wear it with the devo- tion of a friend. Yes, this goodly sword, with which the gallant Allen has written his name upon the tablets CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 121 of immortal memory, and engraven it upon the columns of the temple of fame — methinks I can see in imagin- ation, this Sword in the heat and front of the battle — there it flashed, the harbinger of victory. Yes, gallant hero, well hast thou made thy pledge to thy father true, *'That this sword should never be dishonored." It has returned not dishonored, but wreathed with immortal laurels — aye, decked with the gem that valor wins. — What a sublime picture the mind draws of this youth- ful hero with his gallant band, rushing on midst the thickest of the fight, to glory and to victory: Onward — still on — they nobly pressed. To win the meed of high renown, And as the uoble warrior's crest Was blending with his laurel crown, The gallant Allen low was laid; But e'en in death's brief agony. He shook on high this battle blade, And shouted, "Onward!" "Victory!" But he is no more. He is dead, yet he lives — lives in the memory of his countrymen, cherished in the af- fections of all who knew him. Though his manly form lies low in death, his many virtues, his towering talents, his brilliant example, shall continue to abide in the memory of the living. The history of his short but brilliant career shall be the theme of the orator, and be sung in numbers of the patriot bard. But we have come to bury, not to praise him. He needs no eulogy; his name shall brighten with the lapse of years, and grow brighter as centuries roll on. He left the endearments of home — the hallowed scenes of his early remembrance — father, mother, broth- ers, sisters, all, to fight the battles of his country in a 122 '^UFE AND CHARACTER OF distant land, where be fell, without a relative to mourn his untimely fall, or hold his dying head. But no m.ore shall the night winds of that hostile clime sing his sad requiem — no more shall Srai Juan sigh her melancholy lullaby to his departed spirit — no more shall the rude chapparel wave its sombre branches over the fallen brave: for Leon has given up her dead, and friendship's hand has borne him far back to his native home, to be re-embosomed in the 'silent grave — where a mother's tears will bedew the sod oh?.t covers his last remains ; where the prayers of his father shall make vocal the air that encircles his lowly b^^d ; where brothers, sisters, friends, shall, from the deep fountains of the heart, their grateful tribute of coDipassion pay — And friendship tliy tomb slirJl rear. Since glory thai hast won; And Freedom's self shall hover near. To weep her fallen son." Venerable sir: I now return to you the sword of your gallant son. It will go down in your family as a sacred heirloom, and posterity sliJl hold it in the high estima- tion it so richly deserviis. In the same gallant company in which Capt. Allen en- listed as a volunteer, his younger brother, Sam. Hous- ton Allen also enlisted. He too, was destined to die far away from his home. When the venerable parents of these two intrepid young men bid them farewell, and gave them their parti ag blessings, as they left their homes to fight for the honor of their country, they little thought th:-it they were taking a long, last farwelL It remains now for the writer to bring this sketch to a c]oii<. CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 123 by a brief reference to the life and cliaracter of the younger Allen. He was born in Giles county, Tennessee, on the 9tli of October, 1828. When he enlisted for the Mexican War he was less than eighteen years of age. Actuated hy the same noble patriotism which animated the bosom of his gallant brother, he determined to take the chances of war by his side. Until they arrived at Camargo, they were inseperable companions. At this point, Sam Houston Allen was attacked by the prevailing disease which carried off so many of our brave troops. When the forces were ordered to advance on Monterey, he was too feeble to bear the toil and labor of the march, and he was amongst the number of those who were honor- ably discharged on account of sickness. He returned to New Orleans on his way homeward, but at that place his symptoms became worse, and finally his disease proved fatal. He died on the 26Lh of Octobei*, 1846. — Whilst liuGi'erins: on his sick bed at New Orleans, he re- ceived the distressing' inttllioence of the death of his O CD brother. When the news was communicated to him, he said: **I would rather have died than to have heard that news. Oh! that I had not been taken sick and had been by his side; I would rather have fallen with mj brother than to have died any other death." These feeling expressions show the warmth of the attachment which existed between these two noble brothers. Like his brother, Sam Houston was a model of virtue and morality, and like him he was prepared for death, being; an exemplary member of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, as was also his brother. This fact sheds a brightness over their tombs, and furnishes a substantial «omfort to their friends. 124 LIFS AUD CHARACTER OF CHAPTER IX. The Monument erected in Lawrenceburg — The Funereal Ser- mon of the Rev. P. P. Neely. The high estimate placed upon the heroic conduct of Capt. Allen and his brave associates who fell at Monte- rey, has been manifested by the erection of a beautiful Monument, on the public square of Lawrenceburg. — This lastinG: testimonial was the resuli of the o-enerous. voluntary contributions of friends, who wished to exhibit their admiration of the gallant dead by some permanent memorial which should show to future generations, how warmly they admired true patriotism and chivalry. On the 15th of August, 1847, the Rev. P. P. Neely delivered the Funeral Sermon, on the death of the two young Aliens, which is replete with that splendid elo- quence for which that distinguished divine is so cele- brated. At the request of many of the friends of tlie deceased, he furnished a copy for publication, and it fur- nishes a proper conclusion to this imperfect sketch. FUNERAL SIJrMON Ffonomiced at MovnT Ararat Cauf- Grotji^d, Lanfrcnce Comity y Tenn,, August the Ibth, 1847, on the occasion of the death of CAPTAIH WILLIAM B. ALLEN, WHO FELL AT THE CHARGE OF MONTERET. BY llEV. P. P. NEELY, D. D. "He being dead yet speaketh" — Heb. 11 ch., 4 v. We are assembled,^ my countrymen, upon an occasion of melancholy interest. We meet to-day to pay a tribute of respect to the memory of the young and th^ bravo CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 125 who have fallen like the beauty of Israel, in the hi^rh places of our country. I need not announce the names of those whose early immolation of themselves upon the altar of their country, has tilled so many eyes with weep: mg, and bosoms with desolation. They are graven [on the hearts that beat in this multitude, with an indellible- ness which the flight of years, and the gathering of sor- rows will never efface. I feel that I cannot do justice to my task. It is one from which I shrink, and would have withdrawn myself, but for the earnest solicitation of one, whose paternal heart bleeds, as memory lingers amid the carnage and death of Monterey. Around me are congregated on this occasion, the weeping constituency of our departed young friend: those who had invoked hini from the retirement of the paternal roof, whither he had gone to indulge the warm affections of his iilial heart, so soon as he was released from his collegiate toil, and casting upon him their voluntary suffrage, bade him go forth, and be their organ in the legislative councils of the State. These are here. I see before me many who were with him in his early boyhood: who were partners in his sports — companions in his rambles, and whose memories of him, embrace a thousand tender associa- tions of youth, which cannot enter the recollections of the more aged; you too are here, to weep, as we bid you gaze on the pale form of your early boy-associate — shrouded and dead. Here too, are those who realize a still deeper sympa- thy — a sadder grief--his soldier boys. These went forth to do battle under his banner. They were his com- panions amid the fatiguing march, — they slept by his side upon the same cold earth — gazed with him upon the same blue covering, and like him, thouirht of loved 126 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF and absent ones. They Lave listened to his kind "words around the distant camp-fire, and when sick, have been tended by his hands, and fed from his own soldier's plat- ter. They were with him too, amid the din and peril of battle — heard his deep voice as it rose above the thunder of death, encouraging- them on to valor and to victory- — They saw him, when in the pride of youth, he fell, cov- ered with glory, and what is better, prepared to meet his God. You are here, and in your bosoms must exist emotions to which we are strangers. And yet, others are here, whose unuttered grief is too deep to be alleviated by earthly balm. We would will- ingly invade the sanctuary of your hearts, if we could hope by it to dispel the gloom, by the casting of one a'leam of sunshine there. Your holiest consolation will be, that your country has received at your hands, the richest offering you could bestow — the priceless jewels of your love — and heaven has had its songs augmented by tones that once tremblingly addressed you as Father and as Mother. Surrounded thus, my countrymen, I cannot but real- ize the magnitude of the duty imposed upon me. I feel, loo, that the occasion is one that must enter with pecu- liar strength and earnestness into the hearts of many ihat compose this mighty multitude. In meditating upon the character of those whose lives we are called upon to no- tice, you can but remember an analogous loss which you have sustainetl : memor}' will cause to pass before you the familiar form of some one, dear to you, as the subjects of this day's assemblage were dear to their kindred, whose bones moulder in a distant soil, and whose lonely sepul- chre is unvisited by friends, and unwatered by tlie ttar of affection. Deem not yourselves excluded from what CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 127 little consolation we may be able to offer. "We came as a people, at the appoiutment of the friends of the deceas- ed, to offer our condolence especially to them : yet they claim no monopoly. We have sympathy for all, and would lender it to all. Seeing too, as we have good hope that it is so, tliatthe spirits of your sainted soldier- boys are rejoicing together, in the enjoyment of eternal peace on high, we, their friends, met to dwell upon the virtues of their brave leader, would extend to you our warmest sympathies in your bereavement, and our most sincere prayer for grace to sustain you in their endurance. It were needless for me to say that I rank myself with pride among the warm friends of William B. Allen ! for who is there among this vast number, that were honored with his acquaintance, but can give truthful expression to the same senlimeni?" I must be indulged, wlien 1 say to you, that during the twelve months' intimacy I main- tained with him in the metropolis of our State, I realized a friendship, the growth of which has never been equal- ed toward any other in so short a time. I loved him — deeply loved him — and have met you, his old friends, his schoolmates, his soldiers and his kindred, to recall his virtues, to dwell upon his brief, but glorious career, and to gather from it lessons of encouragement in performing the destinies we may have to meet in coming years. We come with no pomp or pageant to-day; such would little become the occasion. The ground upon which we meet is too holy, and the purpose in view too high, to liave its mournful solemnity and impressive awe disturb- ed by the roll of a drum, or the thunder of cannon. We come, not so much to do honor to the soldier, who has ceased from his toils and entered upon his rest, as to seize upon the spotless name he has bequeathed us, and hold- 128 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF " ing it up before our young countrymen, invoke them to emulate an example so adorned with integrity, so radi- ant with glory. It was right, that the stars of his coun- try's glory, and the stripes upon which he gazed amid the cloud of battle, should wave over his bier, when they were about committino; his returned dusi to the soil of that country for whose rights his heart had been stilled. The muffled drum, the mournful music, the nodding plume, the soldier's tears, all comprised a pageant in keeping with the task to be perforftied — the placing in the bosom of our mother earth one of her bravest sol- dier sons; but meeting now to commemorate those traits that beautified his life, and encircled him in his depart- ing hours, with a halo of imperishable glory, such pomp and circumstances may well be dismissed. One of the early customs of the Romans, was to fill their halls with the images of such of their families as had rendered themselves illustrious. These images con- sisted of masks representing the features of the dead, with the costume worn by them — their armor, and vari- ous insignia of their position among men, and the glory they had Avon. These were so placed around the ances- tral hall as to convey the appearance of living men — so that the descendant had constantly before him the regu- lar succession of his ancestry. Upon the death of any member of the family, of distinction, a wild and fanciful procession occurred. These ancestral masks, costumes, armor, &c., were placed upon the servants of the house- hold, who, arranged in the order of succession, followed the newly deceased to the market-place, where a eulogy was pronounced over him, and from thence they repaired to the tomb to commit his body to the sepulchre of hia fathers. The effect of this awful cavalcade was over- CAPT. WM. B. ALLBK. 129 powering. The young Roman, as he gazed upon the dark ancestral hne, apparently animate and breathing, ofTered anew his vows of patriotism, and caught a fresh enkindlement of glory, as it leaped from the passing throng. We are assembled, not to gaze on such an array of de- parted ones, not to look upon theatre representations like this, but to remember the patriotism of our brothers — to contemplate their services — to place in our hearts the beautiful memory of their goodness, and to realize the truth of our text, they "being dead yet speaJceth.'' Our object in your further detention, -will be to im- press upon you at once the idea in the text — viz: that the conduct of each actor on the great stage of life, is to influ- ence mankind, after the release from among them, and then to enquire into the voices that steal upon us from the lives of the deceased. Human existence, my hearers, must have its termina- tion. We speak now of the suspension of the animal functions, and the realization of that change which leaves the eye closed upon the most beautiful objects, and the ear heavy to the sweetest melodies, and the heart dead to the tender emotions. We mean the period in the history of immortal man, when all that is visible of him to the natural eye, or tangible to the touch, is shut out from our view, and the grave opens her dark bosom, and folds her arms over us, in our forgetfulness and obhvion : when the pleasures that may have beclouded the soul : the schemes of ambition or of benevolence that may have engrossed the powers of the mind : the visions, on whose beautiful vestments we may have gazed, as they careered by, like the gorgeous ckud, moving in mid heaven upon its invisible wheels: we mesn 130 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF the period when these, and all else that stirs the great multitude of mankind shall have passed away from our contemplation, and we shall have entered upon another state, to be engrossed by the mighty scenes to which the present bids us look. In this sense all must die. The doom hangs on all, and has passed upon all, with a few exceptions, from the hour in which the knell of heaven proclaimed, *'dust thou art, and unto dust sh alt thou re- turn:" and so will it continue until that period shall have arrived, to the full display of which John was admitted, when .he ** heard a voice out of Heaven, saying, there shall be no more death." This however, is but the dweller from earth — but the veiling of his face from the livin<>-, while his actions remain to bless with their good, or curse with their evil. God has so established it, that the agitations we give birth to, while voyaging the sea of life, are to march on with a dominant and widening ^^veep — gathering strength in their ample circlings — until the dirge of time's last wave breaking upon the shore of eternity, shall be lost amid the voices that people the endless future. It is a solemn and unalterable fact. It has upon it the iiat of heaven, and no disaffection on our part can change it, no striving to hide ourselves in the shadow of obscu- rity, will avail in excluding us from its awful apphcation. We are here, in existence, composed too, of indistructible elements: endowed with a being on v,diich the seal of im- mortality has been set. No mortal power, no hand wav- ing- in the dominions of the damned can break that seal. Obscurity of birth or of fortune cannot lift it from us, nor can the darkness of the sepulcher dim its lustre. God lias placed it upon us, and there it must forever remain. The law of our being— the law of society— the great law CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 131 of influence is, that actions live after the actor dies. In this sense we are all architects, rearing piles on which coming generations will gaze, when the names of their builders shall have perished amid the unremembered past. We are all casting for ourselves mementoes of glory or of shame. These may be different, as there may exist a disparity in our means of doing good, or diffus- ing evil; one may be a massive base, surmounted by a turning shaft on which the eyes of multitudes — of tho world — may rest, while others may modestly lift them- selves from the family altar, visible only to the throng of devout Avorshippers that kneel at its peacefual shrine; yet are we all — rich and poor, old and young — artificers in action, building for all time — building for all eternity. — These mementoes of ourselves, so invisibly preparing, are to stand as our representatives — as instruments of blessing or of cursing to the world — when our names shall be effaced from the vast catalooue of the livinsf. — We will perish amid our labor: the clamor of the build- ers — the revel, the shout, may cease — all memorials of our individual names may be lost; still our actions — our undying actions — will be seen, radiant with increasing glory, or shrouded in darkening shame. Oh! think not that life is so bound up in isolated self- ishness, that we can enter upon it and continue in it with- out contributing our part — great or little, as we may have opportunity — to the rolling of the vast population of which we are part and parcel, toward that perfectibility sung of by the herald of a golden age, and disclosed to us in the brighter revealments of prophecy, or else of heap- ing upon its massive wheeis leaden weiglits of obstruc- tion. 132 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF \Ye are here, and must act in some way, and every deed has mscribed upon it eternity. Life is but one great registry, where each dweller is entering his deeds. These are to be read by succeeding ones, and are to influ- ence them; and ultimately this volume is to be inspected at the grand assize of heaven, and by its contents desti- nies are to be rewarded. The doctrine which we are striving to impress upon you on this solemn occasion, is forcibly illustrated by the entire history of mankind. We see the seal of one age, with more or less of reality in impression, resting upon the succeeding one. The events of a generation cast their outline upon that which follows. There may j^e, there always are, distinctions marking a difference in each, yet the shadows or the sunshine of the departing, will rest with distinctness upon the dawning one. The mighty events that distinguish an age, (and what arc events but matured action?) often form the elements of a revolution in that which follows. To this doctrine of reproducing influence, are we to attribute the success which crowned the struooles of our fathers in the cause of freedom, and the subsequent achievements of the American people, which have made them second to no nation in the world. The intolerance manifested toward the Puritans, prepared them for the course of stern re- solve, which resulted in the settlement of New England, And finally in the existence of this free nation. The in- credible privations endured by them from an oppressive hierarchy, wrouglit in iheir souls a hatred for tyranny and a love of freedom. Upon this aliment they fed their sons and their daughters: and rearing these in the free, wild solitudes of America, where the green earth and the vaulted sliy were crowded with symbols of freed«xa» CAPT, WM. E. ALLEN. JS3 no nicarvel tliat its altar was the great colonial heart, and that when she demanded it, each hardy descendant was willing to yield as his offering, his own warm blood. — Our free institutions, founded upon and supported by the principles of republicanism, having upon their front the high seal of prosperity and of national glory, and receiv- ing too, the homage of the friends of liberty everywhere, proclaim the might of the influence of that generation; yea, farther, the universal throbbing of the heart of free- dom, beginnino' to be felt, from the classic plains of Greece, to the farthest range of the distant Cordilleras — even to the sun-visited plains of Yucatan — shout in trum- pet-tones of the majesty of that influence. Nor is it less true with regard to the revolution bv which ecclesiastical powers have been shaken. Seizin*^- upon but one, for the sake of illustration — the Lutheran reformation — behold what a moral change suddenly passed upon the world, through the influence of one master-spirit, and the actions of one generation. A fear- ful i darkness had settled upon the religious world, and extended its effects to the civil powers. Man was sunk in the scale of being: fear tyrannized over the passions, and reason was bound in the"chains of passion. Brutal, lawless lust, and greedy ambition trod the earth with a dominant step, and science, honor, virtue, patriotism and devotion were fogrotten, and every right, human and divine, was disregarded. An awful night had cast its pall over the world, and darkness, unmitigated by the beam of a single star, seemed to hold the world spell-bound. — "Science became empiricism, and the pure religion of the Prince of Peace itself, became the pander for the lust of power and wealth, and was made the instrument of 134 LIFE AND CHARACTER OP crushing to the earth the very beings it was designed to elevate." Thus hung in clouds and impregnated with storms, the darkened firmament was made bright by a solitary star that was huno- out in the middle of the fourteenth o century. During the fifteenth and sixteenth, others were visible, and in the sixteenth the German Reformer startled 'the world by the lustre which he shed around him. Since that period hght has been increasing. Lumi- nary after luminary has appeared, sparkling groups have burst forth, and now the retiring darkness — the beauti- ful light not on]}^ visible upon the hill-tops, but coming down almost from mid-heaven itself — is a witness of the power and increase of its influence. What has been afiirraed with regard to generations, may with equal truth be appled to individuals. There is not one of the actors that throng the mighty stage of life, but who when the drama closes, leaves an impress on the vast platform. The memory of the head of the houshold throng lingers long with the sorrowing remnant; and often in distant years from the sad event that made the child an orphan, memory comes, with its sad, lute- like tones, from the wreck which profligacy may have heaped upon it, and whispers to him of the past Oh! it is in that hour of bitter reminiscence that the ghosts of murdered blessings, of violated innocence, and of des- troyed peace, are invoked from the past, and the deep piety of that mother, the godly conversation of that fa- ther whose efforts to bring back the prodigal were una- vailing in life, gathered as it were from the grave, snatched from the lives of those who once lived, tell with emphasis the influence exerted after death, and prove that the dead speak with a voice that breaks not from the CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 135 iips of the living. Who does not now, while we speak, bring from the cells of memory the form, the look, the words, the life, and even the death, of some dear departed friend or relation. The grave, it is true, holds their dust, but their lives are with you still. Their pious words; their fervent prayers; their devotional songs; their last sickness, witli its suffering and patience; their closing hour, with contest and triumph; all are yours to dwell upon, and from them to gather consolation to do, and strength to endure, whatever in the providence of God may be needful for you. Holy lights they are, that burn beautifully bright in the sepulchre of the past, pencilling wiih their beams the truth, that the dead speak. Innumerable are the voices that steal up from the burial-grounds of earth. — The dead, all the dead — the dead everywhere — pour forth the oratory of the charnel house. The rude resting place of the humble cottager, aiM the pompous mauso- leum of the prince, are alike vocal. The gorgeous sar- cophagus, in which the scion of royalty sleeps, and the unsightly ditch, where the poor beggar found a release from his suffering, send up a kindred eloquence. The dead all speak. I would earnestly impress this upon the liv- ing, that they may so hve, as that from their dust a voice may arise, the tones of which will cheer some pilgrim on his lonely way. We repeat it then, the dead all speak. Not even the solemn chime — the knell of their departure — can drown their tones; neither the cold clay, nor the green earth, in whose bosom they await the resurrection, can muffle them: their voices come in the wild revel, in the giddy dance, the lonely hour, the sabbath stillness, the twilight's hush, the midnight's awe, they come : from earth and from ocean, they send out their pealing 136 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF tones, proclaiming that though dead, they yet speak.— We may dismiss them from our sight, yet we cannot con- sign their deeds to forgetfuhiess. If their hves were made up of actions worthy to be admired, these deeds **can never die, nor dying be forgotten." Indeed it would not be deemed enthusiasm to say, that at death they just begin to live — they just enter ihen, upon that existence of mighty influence and unclouded fame here, and of uninterrupted bUss there, for which their devotion to their country, to humanity, and to their God, so pre- eminently fitted them. Those whose lives dwell not so much in the physical as in the mental and moral world: whose steadfast hearts never slumbered: whose souls struggled up into a nobler being: the great end of whose efforts was to do good: whose riches consisted in a name without spot: whose intrepidity was displayed in daring to do right: whose spirits were interposed in the institu- tions of their country and of the church: whose names have been engraven upon her proud pillars, and the blood of whose brave hearts has been poured forth in her defence — such men were not born to die: no cloud of death can hide them from our view: no veil of dark se- pulture can shut them out. Go tread the solemn height of Bunker Hill. Gaze up- on the marble shaft, pointing to the high empyrean above, and tell me if the deeds of a Warren, who fell there in the infancy of our national existence are forgotten. While that pillar braves its summit to the tempest, or receives the dew which heaven distils upon that holy ground, will the actions of that brave officer and his martyr band be fresh in the hearts of his countrymen. Tell me, ye who visit the shades of Vernon, is Washington confined to the little vault in which his body was laid? Is there no- CAPT. WM:. B. ALL2N. 137 ihinf^ left of liim but the indistino-uishable ashes that people a narrow house of earth, guarded by a few bend- ing willows, and dirged by the ceaseless roll of the Poto- mac? Has Monticello, which contains the hand that penned the charter of American Independence, monopo- lized all that is left of a Jefferson? and say ye who knew him in the quietude of peace, and in tlie terror of battle too, has the lion heart of a Jackson no mightier bounda- ry than the republican vault at the Hermitage? have those impulses which stirred his soul — so patriotic in their intention, and so iron-like in their execution — gone down into eternal silence with the noble dust they anima- ted? No, no! These shall resist tlie empire of decay "When time is o'er, and worlds have pass'd away: Cold in the dust the perished heart may lie. But that wliich warmed it once can never die. Oh! there is a beauty, a majesty in the thoughts con- nected with this theme which we must give vent to. The framers of our constitution ! the archives of our in- dependence ! the preservers of all we hold dear as free- men, gone, but still remembered. The lips that were eloquent in our defence, when the word liberty was treason, have become silent: the arms that did battle for us have become dust, and the hearts that offered their blood have perished; still their spirits are with us. Their actions, embodying all that was noble in patriotism and lovely in virtue— evincing an utter abandonment of all self, an absorption of all interests and all purposes in the holy one of their country, are our legacy. Blessed in- heritance ! to these our satcheled school boys turn for examples worthy of emulation. These are beacon-fires, 138 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF ligliting lip the sea of state amid our heaviest calamities and darkest hours; these, rising upon the coast, become pledges of safety and harbingers of success. We may rear the marble pile, and bring the undecay- ing brass to preserve memorials of them, but images more vivid, and monuments more lasting than these, meet the gaze every where. Their country — their happy country — their whole happy country is their eloquent at- testor of their virtues. The humblest mound of earth, rising over the brave dead, in our free land, arrayed in its robe of sunshine, and glittering in the dew-drops of morning, is a prouder mausoleum than royal oppressor ever reared o'er their tyrannized herd. Our country, we repeat, is the monument of her deliverers. Their epitaph is her freedom. Glorious names ! not only have they broken the chain thrown upon their own nation, but the victims of old despotism hear them and give in- dications of life. And thus will it be until the wild pulsations of the world's heart be for liberty. Whenever an agonizing people shall perish in a generous convul- sion for the want of a valiant arm and fearless heart, they will cry in the last accents of despair, oh for a Washington, a Jefferson, a Jackson. "Whenever a re- generated nation starting up in its might, shall burst the links of steel that enchain it, the praise of our venerated fathers shall be the prelude to their triumphal song." — They being dead yet speak. Seeing then, my beloved hearers, that we are to leave an impress upon the sands of life when w^e are called from its busy pursuits, how deeply should we be impress- ed with the solemn importance of passing upon our con- duct a constant and rii^id scrutiny. Of what immense moment is it to us, and to those who are to live after us, CAPT. WM. B, ALLEN. 139 and who are to be moulded, to some extent, by the in- fluence we are to leave behind us, that we study to make that influence profitable. When we die, we too shall speak from our tombs; the sound will arise either to glad- den or sadden the then living; we will then have sent upon society a breath that will either fan into life, or wither into death, the beautiful buddinofs of moral virtue. Which will jou do? you cannot be nutral ; there is no such ground for your occupancy; your life will be vocal with lessons of o'ood or evil, of virtue or of vice, lon^>' af- ter the grave will have closed over your clay. We in- voke a decision this day. That you may be stimulated to a wise choice, we proceed now to lay before you a brief synopsis#f the lives of the brothers Allen, who, united in life, were scarce separated in death. Having consumed much of the time allotted us alrea- dy, we cannot enter into a particular detail in the per- formance of this mournful task. Passing rapidly over this part of our sad duty, we shall strive to present such traits as were most conspicuous, and should most excite your emulation. With Samuel Houston Allen we had not the pleasure of an acquaintance, which must serve as an apology for not alluding more frequently and particularly to him. — He was born Oct. 9th, 1829, and was in his 18th year when he died. From a few documents which has been furnished us. we learn that all that was dutiful in a son, modest in a youth, generous and faithful in a friend, were impersonated in the life and conduct of this interest- ing young man. To these traits of character many that hear me now can bear witness. You knew him in early boyhood — the period of life when the fountain of action is without the fetters which a better acquaintance with 140 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF the world throws upon it. You shared an intimacy witli him at an age when the conduct is Avithout a mask, and knew well the nobleness of his nature. After reaching the seat of war, finding his health bro- ken so as utterly to unfit him for duty, and not wishing to burden the army without being effective, he consented to receive an honorable discharge from the service. He had proceeded as far as the city of New Orleans, on his return home, when disease invaded the citadel of life; and he wdio had gone forth full of hope, yielded his spirit to God who gave it. There was much that was feelingly touching in the closing of this young man's mortal career. Our sympa- thies are all drawn out as we contemjrtate his death- scene: he was far from home, and surrounded by strange faces. Had he been called to meet death on the field of bat- tle, it would have been far more enviable. There is some- thing in such a death that renders the spirit terribly fear- less. The war of artillery — the thunder of cannon — the clash of steel — the tramp of cavahy — the streaming of banners, like thunder clouds against the winds of heaven — the dauntless words of the dying — the vision of fu- ture glory to our country, breaking upon the failing eyes of the pale soldier, as with gaze fixed upon the moving symbols of that country, he passes far beyond the milky baldric of the skies, to a dominion in which no voice of war is ever heard— all contribute to throw around the pale horse and his skeleton rider, a glorious enthusiasm that renders him a welcome messenger to the stalwart ■warrior. He feels, as life gently drops its veil, and all things are shut out from him, tliat posterity will enroll his name among the bright catalogue of immortal martyrs; and CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN 141 thus cheered by tlie veice of fame, he dies as brave sol . diers ever die-— mocking the power of the monster. Oh! there is about such a departure, a wild, burning enthusi- asm, which however impotent in preparing to endure throughout that awful eternity which is to follow, divests death of its terror, and girds the dying with a rainbow of glory. Thus die the brave, who sink to rest Witli all their country's wishes blest. But to linger day by day in an enfeebling contest with the destroyer — to look in vain for the familiar faces gazed upon in childhood, or the yearning look of love that bent over our cradle in watchful solicitude in the helplessness and innocence of infancy — to hear no bro- ther's voice, or sister's tones, breaking with hope and encouragement upon the leaden ear, as death gradually seals it to all earthly sounds. To have nothing but vis- ions of home and its dear ones, its remembered spots and unforgotten things passing before us, without hope of ever again mingling with them around the board, or altar of prayer. To die alone, or with strangers, and to feel that we must sleep with strange compel nions, is to ma, indeed, a destiny, the vesture of which is full of melan- choly — one too which can only be alleviated by the re- flection, that over these, religion can display her brightest manifestations, and administer h'^r holiest consolations — the sweeter, perhaps, becau:^;e of the absence of all hu- man comfort. Such was the death of Samuel Houston Allen, and such the consolations he received. His death couch was not surrounded by a venerated father or a beloved mother, yet the God and Father of all was there to give him strength. No faithful brother 142 LIFE AND CHARACTER OF or loving sister hung over him, to wipe from his brow the grave's clammy dew; yet blessed be God, Jesus Christ, his elder brother, and ministering angels, soon to be his companions, among whom perhapj, was his bro- ther William, were near, and mysteriously strengthen- ed him in that hour of awful struggle Thus died our young brother — a christian by profes- sion and by practice — a nobleman by nature, and a mar- tyr to his country by providence. We mourn his departure in humble resignation to the will of Him who hath taken him. We * 'mourn not as those withouc hope," for al- though the spot that contains his body is not known to uSy still God marks it, and in his holy keeping it is safe. Yes, God his Redeemer lives, And ever from the skies Looks down and watches o'er his dust Till he shall bid it rise. With William Bethel Allen our acquaintance was more extended. A necessarily brief biography will now claim your attention. He was born in Giles county, ♦State of Tennessee, the 16th of Jan. 1824. His child- hood was passed under the eyes of his parents: and if it be true that domestic education moulds the future man, his father and his mother deserve the highest praise for that course of early tracing pursued with their son. Kich indeed must be the rev/ard they have already shared in the honorable race run by their sons, and in its peaceful, though early termination. May their example not be lost upon the guardians of the rising gen- eration. At the age of 16, William entered Haliden Hill Academy, under the superintendence of Mr. W. W. Potter, whose fervidly eloquent sketch of the life of the CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 143 deceased, we have liad the pleasure of perusing. The worthy principal of that institution has awarded him the highest character as a diligent student, an obedient pu- pil, and an humble christian. It was there that he laid the groundwork of that ripe scholarship that he ultimate- ly attained, and of that warm eloquence of the soul that so frequently enchained listening multitudes, and which reflects praise alike upon his own untiring industry, and upon the qualifications of his preceptors. Having completed the course of study preparatory to his matriculation at college, he entered the Xashville University, under the presidency of that remarkable and accomplished scholar, Rev. Dr. Lindsley. During his connection with this Institution, we made his acquaintance. We but speak what is personal knowl- edge when we say, that he had a devotion to books, reaching almost to idolatry, and a zeal the most burning : an ambition, which, while it aimed at the highest achieve- ments, had none of the meagre elemeniis of envy or jealousy in it — seeking his own elevation, and wishing the while to forward that of others also: a piety whose amply laid, and profoundly cherished principles, pre- served him from the corruptions attendant upon our large cities, and made him a lovely example of reli- giously fortilied virtue, towering above vice, and gather- ing strength amid surrounding corruption — together with a friendship which was blind to all selfishness, and more than *'argus eyed" to the interest of those who shared it — these were the leading qualities that fired his mind and warmed his heart. What we have said is fully sustained by the following deserved compliment paid him by the learned President of the University, a man whose praise is never bestowed but when merited. ''This ex- 144 LIFE AMD CHARACTER OF eellent young man graduated in 1844, having been con- nected with the University three years, during ■which time he received the entire confidence, and heighest es- teem of the faculty and students — he was uniformly the example and advocate of every thing that is lovely and of good report. Having passed the regular term, and coaiiDlet^d the prescribed course of studies in that Institution, he re- ceived from the proper authority the honors he had won, and bid adieu to his beloved Alma Mater, his honored preceptors and his cherished class mates, and sought the endearments of sweet home and waiting firiends. You remember my countrymen — for you were his neighbors--the plain simplicity that marked his manners upon his return. In some instances, the tendency of University associations — city intercourse — fashionable minghng, &c., is to create in the mind of the young man, whose college ambition w^as, not so much to enrich his mind with endearing wisdom, as to enjoy these — a false convictionof self importance — an arrogant assumption of superiority to which he can lay no claim, and which con- verts him into a contemptible coxcomb, instead of one worthy to be an example. Such however cannot be affirmed of young Allen.--* He met you as he had ever done. He affected no city exquisitism, but with a friendly smile and a warm grasp, he showed that whatever of knowledge he had accumu- lated from books, it had not been gained at the sacrifice of that simplicity of manner which ought ever to charac- terize true republicanism. His continuance at home was but short; for he had just but received the greetings of kindred and friends, before the partiality of the latter placed him before th« CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. Mi 55Coplc as a candidate for a seat in the State Legislature. The lield was new to bim, and doubtless but little con- genial to his wishes, yet ever prompt to do service when invoked to it, he yielded his consent, and entered upon the stormy sea of politics, upon which so many gallant young men have been ruined for time and wrecked for eternity. The same integrity of character, conscientious adherence to truth, and respect for those of diverse sen- timents which had distinguished him in youth, and won so many warm admirers, were still exhibited. Fearless in his defence of the political tenets honestly entertained by him; prompt and bold in their vindication, he never lost sight of the fact, a conviction of which should be settled upon all disputants, that his opponents had equal claims to sincerity with himself, and should therefore be respected. As an evidence of the exalted esteem in which he was held by his fellow-citizens, he was chosen by them to represent their interests in the councils of the State when he was barely eligible, and that too over a competitor of extensive popularity, and whose long service and faithful discharge of trust in the Legis- lature of his State, had made him emphatically the man of the people. As a Legislator, his course was such as to meet the universal approval of his constituency, upon his return to their midst. His position in that body, for strength of intellect, valuable information, and clearness of de- bate, would have been an honor to a head silvered with age. His unbending probity secured for him the confi- dence of both parties, while his youthful appearance and commanding eloquence won for him the rapt attention of the waiting crowd. 146 LIFE AKD CHARACTER OF Soon after bis return from the session of the Legisla- ture, another voice broke upon his ear — it was the voice of his outraged country, whose rights had long been dis- regarded by an ill-judging foe, and whose soil had been invaded by that foe. It was the voice of his periled countrymen, who were menaced by indiscriminate mas- sacre, from superior numbers. The cry which came upon the rushing wind, from our little band of regulars, stationed with their gallant old leader Gen. Taylor — the living Jackson in the present military age — startled him from the quietude of home and the endearments of friends. It fanned into a conflagration the flame of patriotism that had long been gradually kindling upon his heart, and in common with many of his early associates, the brave sons of his old neighbors, he came forward as a private, and added his name to the list of regular soldiers fur- nished by your chivalrous country. In companionship with these he left you. We will not dwell upon that farewell. Let memory turn from it, for it hath too much of sadness in it; and to array before you that departing column, would be to lift from the past too many blight- ed flowers that perished from that hour. Such was his popularity, that soon after he reached Mexico he was chosen by the company — with whose for- tunes he had united his as a common soldier — to com- mand them. In his conduct as commander of his com- pany, We see exemplified the nobleness of his nature and the benevolence of his heart. He claimed no superior privileges, no exemptions not awarded the common sol- dier. What he had belonged to all who labored and suf- fered with him. His devotion to them was superior to all selfishness. As an instance, we would refer to his declination of the office of Quarter Master, tendered him CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 147 by President Polk. Writing to his father, under date of 14th of Sept. 1846, he says, "I have this day sent my resignation to the President who appointed me Quar- ter Master. The boys are unwilling to be commandtd by any one else. By the grace of God, I will try to lead them without dishonor, to victory.'* What afltclion for his company I What devotion to his God ! In another letter, written during the prevalence of much sickness among his troops, he says, **I have thirty-iive or forty of my original company who are siill able to march with us. They feel like brothers. I regret to leave those be- hind who are on beds of affliction. I hope they will soon rejoin their friendri. May the great God protect and sup- port them in all their trials and alHictions." These attachments were not the offering of the occa- .sion, so much as the natural yearnings of a soul great in its affections. Love of home and its kindred dwellers, and of friends tried and true, was a part of the man. — To give illustrations of this, we must be permitted to make another extract from his correspondence. Writing to his parents, he says, "I have been to Point Isabel twice, for the purpose of getting a letter or paper from home, without success. My anxiety to hear from you is as great as is the distance which separates us from each other. I would be willing to deprive myself of every oth- er earthly possession for the sake of seeing my relations and friends. Xever before have I been capable of duly appreciating the pleasures of home. Here we are, upon an inhospitable and desert island. For U3 no rainbow- smiles are wreathed, no hallowed invocation offered. — But for thosi! who are fai- away, and who live, and will ever live in our affections — for them we have forsaken the endearments of home, for them we are T?\iling to fight. 14S LIFE AND CHARACTER OP or for them we are willing to die. Whether we return home in time, or fall in the field of battle, T hope that a good report will animate usever afterwards, or cheer our friends when we are no more." These extracts show to us the patriotism by which he was incited — the filial affection he possessed, and the christian confidence he maintained. We approach now, the last act in the eventful drama of his short life — the storming of Monterey and his un- timely death — and how can we dwell upon it? True it is a part of his history, in which we behold a converge- ment of the rays of glory, which had been beaming from him in increasing majesty from his early boyhood? Yet in the midst of it he fell, and no brc aking light can make us insensible of the sad truth, that it is but the gorgeous garniture of the mourned — the beloved dead. The at- traction of that hour, great though it be, cannot divert us from a contemplation of our loss; and the achieve- ments won in it, can never warm into life the noble hearts that then became cold. The day ultimately dawned— a day, the coming of which had been waited for with feverish im[)atienceby the American forces, the day that was to try their un- fledged swords, and afford opportunity for gathering im- mortal laurels, and avenging the blood of their country- men that cried unto them from Palo Alto and Resacade la Palma. They had hoped for it long, and had kept vigil with the fleeting hours the night before, so eager were they for its arrival. It dawned at last. Glittering- in the distance might be seen the spires of Monterey — calm in the beautiful sunlight that slept upon them— «nconscious too, of the awful carnage of which thej were to be silent witnesses before that sun should go CAPT. WM. B. ALLKK. 149 down. Behind dark fortifications, that frowned as if the scowl of war was upon them, were placed those mes- sengers of death — the deep mouthed cannon, those mur- derous dogs of war — waiting to be let slip, that they might howl the requiem of the departing ghosts of the soldier multitude. There was the deep entrenchment be- low, and the walled height above, from which pro- truded dark implements of death. The busy hum, swelling from the warrior men — glit- tering bayonets — gleaming swords — waiving plumes — columns of infantry — lines of cavalry — the pealing drum — the piercing fife — the voice of command — all tell of a mighty preparation for the work of death. At length they come. The flower of Tennessee are in the van. Lovely sons ! would that the doom that hung over many of you in that hour of elation could have been averted! No! no! The altar is prepared, and ye were to be the of- fering Ye were the precious jewels of more than Spar- tan mothers, and they sent ye forth, consenting to the sac- rifice. Oh! America! America! thou art ever glorious whilst thou canst boast such mothers as these. Silently, yet with determined step, that van-column marched on to certain death. Is there no quivering of muscles? Is there no paling of the cheek — nor convulsive trembling of lip? There may have been, when the tread of the moving host just started, sounded like a sepulchral blast, but now there is none. Sometimes perhap^^, as memory repaired to the circle of home, and returned with the tears of a mother or a sister shed upon their departure, and held them before the soldier boy, his heart may have beat with wild emotions: yet one thought of his country •—his mother — would calm the tumult, and change him from the son into the soldier. At length the charge is J 60 LIFE AND CHARACTER OP pealed along the line. Amid the wild rush of armed men— the heaps of slain — and the falling- wounded that yielded before the raking fire of the enemy — behold your son — your former citizen — your brave leader, with lifted sword — the same whose steel, when received from the bands of his honored father, he had breathed a vow never to dishonor it, and with the voice of the roused and fear- less lion, encouraging his followers on to the breech, and on to victory, until struck by a cannon ball, he fell! Nor does the scene of his earthly glory close here: for grasp- ing his sword with the fervor of death, aixd looking for the last time upon his wasted column, he exclaims "Bot/9 lam dying, hut charge the fort:' thus mingling with the last gleam of earthly light, the noble principle that gui- ded him through hk— patriotic even in death — ''J am dying but charge the fort. "Life's parting beams were in liis eye. Life's closing accents on his tongue. When round him pealing to the sky The shout of victory rungi When e're his gallant spirit fled, A smile so bright illumined his face — Oh! never of the light it shed Shall memory lose a trace. His was a death, whose rapture high Transcended all that life could yield; His warmest prayer was so to die On the red battle field. And may they feel, who loved him most, A pride so holy and so pure — Fate hath no power o're those who boast, A treasure thus secure." CAPT. WM. B. ALLEN. 14V Such was the life and sucTi the death of William B. Allen, a man than whom if God ever made a nobler, toe never knew them. His life was an examplification of patriotism — his death the commanding seal affixed to it: and can ye dream that one so rarely gifted — so entirely his country's and his God's; and so early called from the service of one to be companionship with the other, can repose in the grave, in forgotten oblivion? or that no voice will ascend from his dusi — no mighty swell from his memory? No! though dead, he speaks to us to day. Though corruption has claimed his mortal part, his im- mortal deeds are ours — ours to cherish and ours to imi- tate. People of Lawrence! Freemen of his native State! he has bequeathed you a legacy richer than all your vast possessions — his own illustrious example. Oh value your heritage. Impart it to your babes as you gather them around the warm fire for winter evening com- munings. In coming years, as your sons visit the neigh- boring town, and see an unadorned column rising from the earth, tell them of the spotless life — tell them of the glorious death of him in commemoration of whom it will have been reared. Tell them of his affection for his parents — his love of knowledge — his regard for morals — his devotion to his country — his fidelity to his God — tell them all — and as you send them forth, bid them mould themselves by what William B. Allen was. Glad am I, that his bones have been gathered from a foreign soil, and placed where the tread of a foe can never insult them. The heart of his own proud State is a se- pulchre worthy of him. Upon her green turf he trod when a child, and it is right that that turf should cover his clay. Here the emotions of his heart were jBrst quick- ened, and then matured; and it is well that that heart 152 UFE AND CHARACTER O? should repose here when it became still. He sleeps m your midst. The grave of his childhood has become his warrior couch, guarded by the affection of his father and the love of his mother. "Rest warrior! rest! by the father's hand Thither shall the child of after years be led, With his humble offering, silently to stand In the hushed presence of the glorious dead, So rest! warrior! rest! for thou thy path hast trod With glory and with God." Young men of Tennessee ! Soldiers whom he led to victory, to you he still speaks. He calls you by all that is lovely in virtue — by all that was of good report in his conduct, and that was glorious in his death, to be emu- lous of doing good to your God and to your country. He is not with you now — he is gone. Strive in the great battle of life to keep his example before you, so that its close may be marked by equal triumph. Kin- dred of my dear young friends? Father! Mother! though gone they speak to you. They address you from the past. Their warm affection, uniform obedience, and kind words, speak consolation to you in your tears. They speak to you from their heavenly abode. Beauti- ful voices steal down out of heaven to cheer you now. They whisper of the departed. They tell you of the temple in which they dwell, and of which, in a little time you are to become occupants — of the waiving fruit — the glad river — the blessed songs — the waiting friends — they tell you of heaven, and bid you be ready to scale the inaccessible heights, and share those joys forever more. Speak on! beloved ones! we hear your distant voices and hope soon to see you as you are, and so be ever with the Lord. PHIL. P. NEELY. Columbia, Tenn., Au(/. Sth, 1847. APPEIDIX SPEECHES AND ESSAYS, By CAPTAIN 'WM. B. ALLEN. A SPEECH, DELIVERED IN THE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGN OF 1844. Fellow-citizens: — A period is approaching, in the his- tory of our country, of no ordinary inlerest and concern. A battle is now being fought, bravely and earnestly, that is to settle for years to come, the questions at issue between the parties. It is gratifying to me to observe with what enthusiasm and fire the democracy have been ficjhtino^ this battle. Althouo-h instances are on record of men entering a contest with fearlessness of spirit and burning zeal, whose ardor was damped and energy weakened before it was over, it is a cheerins: fact, that so far as the democracy are concerned, not one single feather has been plucked from their caps, and by their unanimity and assistance, the contest will wax warmer and warmer until victory, joyous victory, will crown their eflforts, and our long cherished principles be restored to their natural position. Although I have been so cir- cumstanced that I could participate but seldom in the 1 64 APPENDIX. exultations which have gone up to lieaven from the proud hearts of freemen, I have nevertheless, been privileged occasionally to attend most of their numerous meetings, and united with them in their patriotic rejoic- ings. Tiie country is all on fire — it burns brilliantly and gloriously all over the land — and right here where the people ought to be free from the curses of corporated establishments and the imposition of oppressive burthens — here in hearing of our distinguished leader who is to lead us on to victory, let the clarion voice of the democ- racy be heard longer and loudest. Let the people from the adjoining States hear it, and let them raise the shout and echo it from hill to hill, from hovel to hovel, until nought else will be heard but the exultation of the unterrified democracy. Shall this be the case my coun- trymen? Shall leagued oppression ever gain the ascendency in this country? Every voice is ready to exclaim it shall never be — every heart swells the anthem and exclaims forbid it Heaven! Let the ball then in this contest be kept rolling, and let no one despair of success. I believe the people in Tennessee are firmly united, and genuine, sterling democrats. The people have been divided bv followincf diflT^rent favorites, some of whom have made a ship-wreck of their political faith. Who does not well remember the lime when we were all united in supporting zealously, and harmoni- ously, and unanimoursly, the administration of the immortal Jackson? We were all one under his banner. We supported him not only for his patriotism, but we agreed with him in the measures which characterized his administration. How have the people become estranged from him? How have they forsaken their old principles, which they were once willing and ready APPENDIX. 1 55 to make any saerifice to mantain? I ask the candid, honest whig to ask himself this single, isolated question. Can you reconcile your present course by your former? You wlio supported through State pride or through principle, Judge White, a man no less distinguished for his honest patriotism, than his eminent abilities as a statesman, and believing him at the same time to be, in every respect, a better Jackson man than Mr. Vau Buren, would do well to examine the causes of your opposition to the democratic party? In your zeal for Judge White's promotion, did you agree with him in principle? If so, how does it happen you are in favor of a National Bank by federal authority, and a protective tariff, measures to which he is well know to have been hostile from a consideration of his public acts in the Senate of the United Spates and elsewhere? You can- onize his memory and profess to have unlimited confi- dence in his judgment, yet you oppose the essential measures Avhich characterized the v/hole course of his public acts. Whence this change? Whence this glar- ing, palpable inconsistency? Pave the people changed? Upon what principles pray? Were there any acknowl- edged party division drawn upon the faith of principle in that contest which rent in twain the republicans of Tennessee? There were none, absolutely none. I appeal to history and experience for the truthfulness of this asseveration. You were then Southern men, having southern ititerests to succor and protect, and Tennessee, proud and chivalrous as she then was, stood as one man, contending zealously and indefatigably and patriotically against Banking corporations and the duties on foreign goods beyond the requisite amount t» defray the economical expenditures of the government. This was 1 56 ' APPENDIX. the doctrine held, in all sincerity, by the wise, disinter- ested patriots and war-worn veterans of our revolution, whose blood flowed out in fountains to redeem their country from the curses of British taxation. And now^ after having made several experiments without sufficient cause of a repetition, we are again called upon to support such an institution, as, in my humble estimation comes directly in conflict with the best interests of the countrv, as it certainly does destroy that horizontal equalization which forms the basis of our Government. That it is a lucrative business to a few individuals who possess a little capital and invest it in Bank Stock, is quite certain. But that it benefits at large the whole American people, in all their varied interests and dealings, would be an admission unauthorised by evidence and unfounded in truth. The fate of the late Bank, with all its crimes of commission and omission, is known too well to require an attentive review now. That it was not strictly speak- ing a Bank of the United States of the removal of the deposits, may be admitted, as it is admitted, without at once invalidating the conclusions we have drawn, for the United States Bank of Pennsylvania, as it was called, was not altered in any of its important features from its primitive form, and Mr. Biddle, himself, the President of the Bank, declared the State Bank was on a surer basis than before the stock of the Government had been removed. But why speak of this measure? We are to speak of the living and not the dead. The Bank ques- tion, is now, "to all intents and purposes" an obsolete idea. If not, why do not its favorites and advocates make it the absorbing question in this canvass, as they «ertainly did in 1840? The only reason I can assign, is, that the times wont justify it. Under the pressure of APPENDIX. 157 pecuniary embarrassment, thousands of honest men were induced to vote for such an institution as a relief measure, as they thought, but finding now that rehef is making its appearance without any such artificial agen- cies, they are unwilling to be deceived longer. Every man knows that exchanges are better than they generally were during the existence of the Bank. These and many other considerations, have, no doubt induced the whigs to consign that question "to the tombs of the Capulets." The next subterfuge of the party is the Tariff. They tell the people that it is politic and expe- dient for our Government to protect home industry against foreign industry. But whom do they propose to protect? Is it the honest farmer who cultivates the soil? Is it the hard-working man who has settled him a home in the west, where he hopes to settle his children upon comfortable and suitable farms? Is it the man who has him a home in the bosom of the forest as it were, that this shield is to cover? No sir. It's the manufacturer who asks and implores Congress to give him this advantage. What does he ask it for? Is it that he may sell his articles cheaper? This would be the worst of folly. If I understand them, the foreigners "undersell them, and they want the tariff that they may realize higher prices. And who pays the money? It's the hard-fisted farmer who has never implored Cono^ress importunately and repeatedly for protection in his line of business, that has to pay it. If industry is to be pro- tected at all, it does seem to me that it, should be done in all its branches. Or as our leader says, "It is the duty of the Government to extend, as far as it may be practical to do so, by its revenue laws and all other m«ans within its power, fair and just protection to aH 1 68 APPENDIX. the great interests of the Union, embracing agriculture, manufactures, the mechanic arts, commerce, and navi* gation." We are told that it is British and not American goods we are taxing. Well if by taxing English we could make them pay for it, I would go wiih you in that measure, but when we examine the matter we find we are taxing British goods and making ourselves pay for it — -'that's the rub." The money comes out of our own pockets not Englishmen's. A few more y/ords and I have done. It is scarcely necessary that 1 should speak of the cheering prospects that smile upon our efforts in the cause in which we are engaged. Wherever an issue has been made by the unbought expression of the peopk's will, the democracy has done nobly. The merited frowns of a people indignant at past injuries are resting upon those who, by their acts, are endeavoring to change this Republic into a Consolidated Government. The spirit of our patriot fathers rise up from their graves and condemn it. Upon the preservation of the "social compact" depends, in a great measure, the perpetuity and happiness of the whole country. The man that advocates consolidation- ism on the one hand, or disunion on the other, is ignobly base, and deserves the universal hatred of mankind. However much men may be disposed to differ in opinion upon subjects connected with the administration of government, upon one thing they do agree — -that this Union must be preserved at every peril. lie that antici- pates and wishes its dismemberment is not worthy, in the least degree, of enjoying those favored blessings Providence has spread so profusely about us. He deserves to spend a miserable existence in some dark, cheerless abode, where Heaven's free sun never flings APPENDIX. 159 lais radiant smiles. When such a factious, disorganizing- spirit is once aroused, (and which may Heaven merci- fully avert,) the depository of all our dearest hopes and brightest anticipations is assailed, and the strong arms and stout hearts of our cilizeus may not be able to quell it. In all our eagerness to support men we should always keep an eye single to our country, for what is the elevation or depression of any man when compared with her preservation, pei'petuity and happiness? If men prove false to those interests entrusted to their care — if they are guilty of a flagrant and open violation of those pledges upon the faith of which they are promoted to office — if they become negligent and careless about adhering strictly and faithfully to the "letter and spirit of the constitution," they should not only be watched • with a zealous and suspicious eye, but hurled headlong from their high places; into the deep den of infamy and disgrace, which, 1 must confess, has been the recipient of a smaller number than justice demands. Men may be boisterous and noisy about their })alriotism and fidelity, but we should examine v/itu care their acts, for by their acts ye shall knovr them. Men sliould be nothing, and principles everything. Upon this maxim the fathers of the constitution acted. If we are ever so recreant to our trust, as to support men zealously, without any regard to the measures they would be most likely to carry out, ar.d in so doing our system of equality is destroyed by a latitudinarian construction of the consti- tution on the part of those receiving our favors, the greatest curses th^it could rest upon a people will hang like angry clouds about us. Men's opinions must be known, that he that rans may understand them. Any doctrine that infringes upon the rights of the humblest IGO IPFENDIS. ©itizen of the country, ought to be discarded, jfor although it operates advantageously to one class, it proves to be prejudicial to the other. No patriot could wish these favors, when he is told that others entitled to the same protection from government are groaning under its oppression. If there be any beauty or excellence in our Government, every individual under its fostering wing takes part of the honor to himself. If it should prove a curse to us, in the name of fairness, let us all, not a few — but let us all partake of its evils. If the vessel of State, with all its stars and stripes is to strike a quicksand, and to be scattered in dishonored and disorganized fragments upon the bufFetting waves, I for one, am willing to share the fate of the crew on board, let it be what it may. But we should be cautious in getting a pilot and helms- man to guide us in safety from the rocks. He should be cold, calculating, prudent — a cool head and stout heart, with the circumspection of command and an invincible will that can say to the waves, ''peace be still," and the storm ceases. He that possesses an oversweeping ambition that swells into proud insolence when irritated by casual disappointment, is dangerous to be trusted with such an important charge, for like Phseton, who overturned the chariot of the sun, and sat the world on fire, he may overturn the vessel at his discretion. But such a spirit will be hurled from his seat not by Jupiter's thunderbolt, but by the omnipotency of the people's will. The man we are willing to be our leader possesses none of these dangerous qualities — he is an honest man — "the noblest work of God." He has stood by his coun- try in the darkest period of her history, and never forsook her. He has fought and done battle nobly in defence of that pyramid of principle erected as the APPENDIX. 161 proudest monument of the wisdom of our ancestors.— By its side he has professed a willingness to stand, or fall at the solid base upon which the superstructure if? reared, with the stars and stripes of his country windin;^ around him. He is one of those concurring fully in the opinion expressed by Mr. Jefferson, that the "mass of mankind had not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spurred ready to ride them legitimately by the grace of God." He is in favor of an equal distribution of justice to all — special privileges to none. He wants the government to extend its sovereign arm of protection around all of its citizens. He believes, as he lias expressed it, that "it is the duty of the gov- ernment to extend, as far as may be practicable to do so, by its revenue laws, and all other means within its power, fair and just protection to all the great interests of the Union, embracing agriculture, manufactures, the me- chanic arts, commerce and navigation.'* Here is a statesman for you, whose heart is as large as the whole country — whose wishes are to encourage all departments of human industry by all fair and efficient agency of the government. How nobly and honorably do his viewis contrast with his opponent's, who avows that "agricul- ture needs no protection?" But I leave this and similar questions to be decided by the great American people. The time is not far distant when these things will be set- tled beyond a doubt. The battle is to be fought upon principle. You who believe in the measures which were held to be sacred by the sterling patriots who framed the Constitution, are invited, as you arc exhorted, to rally to the support of Polk, Dallas, Texas, Oregon and tiie Constitution. Judging from the recent indications which have developed themselves in the State electiors K \iyi APPENDIX. •which are just over, we have high and gratifying assu- rances of triumpliant victory on the first Monday of Ko- vember next. In every instance where an issue has been made by the people, our cause has been sustained bv increased numbers who have said in their might, they will stand by it or fall with it. When men who have filled a large space in the public eye, are daily divesting themselves of habiliments of whiggery, may we not reasonably infer'that thousands and scores, not so pro- ii;inent, though equally honest, will in the face of all the evidences which truth can afford, renounce allegiance to the party that has proved recreant to the many solemn pledges they so earnestly made, and so willingly and probably conscientiously disregarded? The waters are being moved and agitated. The tide of popular indig- nation is rising high against those who have been wafted into favor upon its powerful current, and now threatens with little or no hape of avoiding it, to overwhelm those who have enjoyed the luxury of riding upon its majestic ])Osom. Truly may it be said, the way of the trans- gressor is hard. Who, under the weight of the astound- in;>- weight given already by the people, can anticipate anything like certainty for the success of whiggery. — Has not State after State, in unbroken line, f.xed a seal of condemnation upon the great embodiment, that he might deceive the nations no longer. And as sure as the presidential election shall roll round, a shout such as was never heard before, will arise from every section of the Union, proclaiming that Babylon the great has fallen. Along the length and breadth of our land, will burst the shouts of triumph. The people's artillery, bloodless though condemnatory, will thunder forth the deafening notes that '^ws have met the enemy and they are ours." APPENDIX. IflU Then, then fellow-citizens, will these inquisitorial, party- serving, editorial scribblers, know to their infinite sorrow and mortification, who James K. Polk is? "Closed is the brunt of the glorious fight, ' And the day, like a conquerer, bursts ou the night, Trumpet and fife, swelling choral along, The triumjjh already sweeps marching iu song." Do your duty, democrats, and there is no cause for fear. That you will do that, I have not the least doubt. Tennessee must and will be redeemed. March up then to the election, with a determination to loose no honor- able means on your part to secure that result. In the contest which is nearly over, be firm and immovable, never for a moment forgetting that "our principles are our shield, justice our sword, and our battlements are the hearts of the people." A SPEECH OX THE ANNEXATION OF TEXAS. Fdlow Citizens: — Our Constitution and laws guaran- tee to every citizen of tlie United States, protection from injury and a continuation of equal favors. He that is raised in a splendid mansion "whose lofty tops ambient clouds conceal," or in the most indifferent hovel, situ- ated in some bleak solitary waste, exults in the conscious- ness that this government will ever throw around him the broad, impenetrable a^gis of its protection. He knows the objects for which governments were instituted, and considers himself an integral part of its machinery. To secure these blessings arising from an uninterrupted eojoyraent of conscious security, the torch of the revolu- tion was lit, and this fair land enveloped in one general conflagration. For this our fathers barred their bosoma 164 APPENDIX. to the storms of a seven years war. For this they fronted with unrelenting firmness the British Commons, and bid defiance to its deafening thunders. For this they dissolved all connection v/ith the mother country, form- ing a Constitution of their own. For the maintenance of our rights, the second war of our Independence was fought, which has illumined witii a blaze of glory the history of Tennessee chivalry. Some of the invincible sons of Tennessee, animated by no other zeal than in- tense patriotism, prompted by no other motives but to render useful service to their country, shouldered their muskets and marched to the plains of New Orleans, and made their own bosoms a breastwork to the enemy. — The battle was vv^on, peace was restored, and their hearts beat rapturous joy. After performing these feats of noble daring, after having conquered the pride of the British army, they crossed the Sabine, and settled their homes where they fancied to spend the remainder of their lives. They expected that the wounds they had received in battle would be healed, and never again be exposed to the application of the sabre and sword. But how infinite their surprise, how intense their mortifica- tion, how distressed their looks must have been, when they received the intelligence that by the treaty of 1819, they had been sold to the Spanish monarch. Was net the United States bound to protect them, by its Consti- tution? Had they not a right to expect it? And yet, from a free government, by unwise negotiation, they had been transferred to a monarchy, against which, oa a former occasion, they had freely offered their lives. — This is not all, my countrymen. They submitted ^ their unjust treatment in a manner becoming their con- ditions. But soon the Spanish yoke became so galling; APPENDIX. 165 that they were unwilling to bear it longer. The Mexi- can Revolution ensued, and these old soldiers, who had fought under Gen. Jackson at the battle of New Orleans, were again found on the side of liberty, fighting man- fully for freedom. The result of that Revolution is well known. It is scarcely necessary to state, that the Mexi- cans were successful, and they, in 1824, formed what was called the Confederative system. The rights of the people were again insulted, and they were loudly called to redress the grievances. The military despot, Santa Anna, laid his iron grasp upon that system, and attempt- ed and effected its dissolution. Texas peremptorily re- fused acquiescence with the other States, and she met, in proud triumph, the Dictator in the battle of San Ja- Jacinto, prostrating inevitabl}'', all hope on the part of Mexico, to conquer and subjugate Texas. This was the third memorable battle in which these old soldiers had been engaged, in all of which they were found invari- ably on the side of liberty. And now, after having ex- hausted their treasure and their blood, with tlie seal of age fastened upon their infirmities, they ask in tones of impassioned eloquence, in cries of- continued importuni- ty, in the voice of justice and humanity, that the United States will receive them into that embrace from which they were unwillingly forced. Their pilgrimage in life is nearly ended, their wounds will soon cease to bleed, and their brave hearts cease to beat. They ask this not as a boon, but as a right; not in their own behalf, but in the name of their children, and their children's children. Who that is not lost to all sense of compas- sion and commiseration, can say that this desirable ob- ject shall not be obtained in consequence of a certain man's opposition to it, who wants to be President? IQ6 APPENDIX. A SPEECH, DELIVERED AT THE JACKSON CELE- BRATION, IN 1845. Fellow- Citizens: — After the delivery of the very ablo and eloquent address which you have this day heard, it would be unpardonable presumption in me to attempt to say much in addition. I feel myself incompetent to succeed with effect, a man possessing such a store-house of knowledge, such diversified and rich talent, and such a vivid flowery imagination, as the distinguished orator of the day. Our theme, vast as it is in extent, and in- teresting and marvelous, when portrayed in all the col- ors of Avhich it is susceptible, could not be exhausted in the short space to which an address must necessarily be limited. We have met here, on this the Sabbath-day of Freedom — the Jubilee of our Independence — bringing the offerings of grateful hearts, and depositing them around the altar of our common country. The time and circumstance under the auspices of which we have con- vened, conspire, eminently and supremely, to unite us together in a community of feeling — to hush in the silence of forgetfulness for a moment, the discordant thunders which proceed from the bosom and angry fury of a political storm — and to bury our local and section- al prejudices and antipathies in the remembrance of the past. We come together in the presence of the great God of battles, whose omnipotent arm encircled and shielded our patriot armies in the time that tried men's souls, to commemorate the life and services of one of the most distinguished men that this or any other age has produced. Fathers, friends, countrymen, the great Jack- son is no more! He whose name was once a terror to invading armies, and at whose command our belligeranfe forces were conducted to victory and to glory, has gone, APPENDIX. 167 we trust, with the armies of the reedcemed, to a country beyond the skies. The patriot and soldier, the states- man and the sao^e, at an advanced aery Tennessean, csperiuUy, who is proud of his "own, his native land," would be glad to see such a statue to ihe memory of the greatest man that ever lived, who "in the annals of modern great- ness, stands alone, and the noblest names of anticjuity lose their lustre in his presence." ]jut serious fears arc entertained ihat it will have a tendency to embarrass the passage of the bill. If satisfied that such will not be the case, I would gladly see it incorporated as a part of tfie bill. So far, however, as the perpetuation of his fame is concerned, no monument need be erected. He has built his "monument in the hearts of his country- men," and his fame is co-extensive with civilization it- self. But it has been an immemorial and time-hallowed custom to erect such monuments to the distinguished dead in all ages of the world. The United States is no V'M proud of her great men than other nations. •She will everembalm, in greatful recollection, the invincible defenders of her liberty. "Patriots have toiled, and in their country'ri cause Bled nobly. And their deeds as they deserve, Jleceive proud recompense. We give in charge, Their names to the sweet lyre. The historic muse, Proud of her treasure, marches with it down To latest times; and sculpture in lier turn Gives bond, in stone, and ever-during brass. To guard thuai, and immyrtalia'i hor trust." 176 APPENDIX. The erection of a statue to the father of hn country would seem to be more appropriately a national objecfc ■which every citizen of the Union, however humble and obscure, may contribute his free-will offering. In the Capitol at Washington stands in unmutilated and unsul- lied grandeur his sculptured form. It belongs to the whole nation. If gentlemen are sincere in what they profess, and I impeach the purity of no man's motives, the time may not be far remote when the Capitol of our own proud and chivalrous State will be ornamented and adorned with living, speaking and eloquent statutes of Washington and Jackson. As their names are to be linked together in connection with whatever is virtuous, chivalrous and great in the history of the country they fought to sustain, it may not be inappropriate that a statue be erected to each, and placed side by side in the Capitol of the State. Like Washington, Jackson needs no monument, so far as the perpetuation of the memory of his great deeds are concerned. As long as the 8th of January is remembered, he will be heralded as the great- est captain of the age in which he lived. V/hile the great father of waters continues to roll by the monument to be pfented on its bank, bearing upon its ample and ma- jestic bosom the wealth of the surrounding country, it will murmur his deathless. praise. To use the language of another "his fame is eternity, and residence creation." Iking "first in war, first in peace and first in the hearts of his countrymen," he was second to none in the social re- lations of private life. But I shall not dwell upon thos<5 virtues so admirably illustrated in his character. I wish to see erected on yonder hill a magnificent edifice — one that will be highly creditable to the State we represent. When completed, I am willing to see the statuary forms APPENDIX. 177 of Washington and Jackson within it, as guardian angch to preside over the deliberations of future Legislature-? for all time to come. And when the madness of party shall disturb the harmony so essential to the administra- tion of wholesome laws, by these images they may be reminded of their councils while living. Let them read the prophetic language that is addressed to them, to avoid against the baleful effects of party spirit. Among the ancients it was a saying that ""While stands the Coliseum, Rome .shall stand." Let this kind of feeling animate our people, and nerve their arms to action. Let them resolve that as Ion;; as that edifice shall endure, aye, as long as the hill upon which it rests shall remain, our country with her ivit^ in- stitutions, shall stand, as the proudest monument of hu- man wisdom. And let them constantly bear in mind that those inestimable privileges which they err-oy under the auspices of such institutions, have been transmitted of them unimpaired through the instrumentality of Washington and Jackson. Transatlantic nations may speak in terms derogatory to our people and government — they may attempt a de- preciation of the merits of our great men, but when an impartial verdict shall be rendered, as it will be, it will appear that for all the elements of true greatness thero are Americans who can honorably compare with those of any other country. In saying this I am not ignorant of the impression that prevails, that it is irnpo.ssible for the United States to produce, in the strict sense of the term, genuine statesmen — that her politicians arenumerous, her statesmen none — that we cannot point to them in the ci:- uUation of our hearts and exclaim, "here stand the L 3 78 APPENDIX, choicest spiiitsof their age; the greatest wits, the nobkst orators, the wisest poliliciaiis, the most illustrious patri- ots. Here they stand, whose hands have been raised lor their country, whose magical eloquence has shook the spheres, whose genius has poured out strains worthy the inspiration of the gods, whose lives were devoted to the purity of their principles, whose memories were be- queathed to a race greatful for benefits received irom ibeir sufferings and their sacrifices." Such an insinua- tion is as illiberal as it is untrue. However invidious may be the fault-finders and hypocritical writers of the eld world, they are constrained to award to Gen. Jack- son a high niche in the temple of renown. With the irentleman from Sumner, (Mr. Guild,) it may be said that he has emphatically "filled the measure of his coun- try's glory," and his name will never die. 'Rear strong the va-it memorial high, That Freedom's future sons may come to bless His memory, and breathe new spirits there. And at that altar -shrine, like mighty sons Of Hanuibai of old, most proudly swear .Like him to fight, like him to nobly die. The deathless /oes of fading tyranny — That down from age to age the truth may live, Ilepublics not unyreatful are, and wreaths can weave And monuments upraise for patriots true, Arising, like their deeds, from commor dust. O'er common men, and pointing to the skies, To note that, as the atars, they glitter there!" His deeds of matchless daring, and hla inflexible devo uon to hi^ country, stand like a tower pointing magnifi- icutly to Heaven, exciting the envy and admiration of the •vv jfido His faults, which no maa can claim exempti-im, it APPENDIX. 179 is hoped, have descended with him to the oblivion of the tomb. Peace be to his manes! is the patriot's prayer. His resplendent virtues, and he had many, should be emblazoned upon the pages of history, and left as a rich heritafife to the millions of freemen who are to succeed him in all time to come. As the patriot, the soldier and sage, full of years and full of honors, has gone down to bis grave in peace with the world and his God, let his virtues be resurrected — let them coniinue to live in the song of the poet and eulogium of the orator. Let inge- nuous youths, as they assemble togetlicr around one na- tional altar on the annual return of the jubilee of the 8th of January, herald forth his admirable traits of char- acter. They will never cease to emulate those Socratic virtues of which he was the representative — that they will never forget the obligations they are under to pro- mote the cherished interests of their country and advaaot; the '-symbols of her triumph" — and that no considera- tion of personal aggrandizement will ever be the cause of an abandonment of those great and important princi- ples for which he fought, is confidently and ardently hoped. If there be any thing on earth calculated to dis- turb the patriot's repose, and cause his great spirit to rise up and condemn it, it is a base and treacherous at- tempt to sever this glorious Union. Never, nei^er, may our people be so blind and insensible to their interests aad the happiness of those who are to succeed them, as to consent to have it "rent asunder!'* If our govern- ment is ever to be free, prosperous and happy-^if the sun of her greatness is not to set in the starless night o£ despotism — if our brightest hopes and anticipations arte to be realized in reference to the continued security aad welfare of our country, our people must be virtuous, en- 180 APPENDIX. lightened and hrave. They should adopt tlie favorit* maxim to "ask nothing that is not right, and submit to nothing that is wrong." They should watch with dis- trust that public servant or diplomatic functionary who would consent to an abandonment of one inch of our terri- tory where our title is "clear and unquestionable.'* With such a determination our country is secure. ^'Estoper- petuay*' is written in characters of light upon her desti- ny. When the monuments of her glory shall have fall- en to decay, her peerless form will still stand up like a giantess full of propo/tion, animated with life, and buoy- ant with anticipations. But I shall not pause to weave visions about the future in reference to the perpetuity of our institutions. May the memory of his deeds who has reflected a radiance of glory around Tennessee and the Union, be eternal! May every youth, like the young Carthagenian, swear upon the altar of his country never to forsake her, and with the defender of the emporium of the west, at all events and under every circumstance, "Our Federal Union, limust be preserved." A SPEECH 0^ TEMPERANCE, DELIVERED IN 1844, IN LAWRENCEBURG. Ladies and Gentlemen: — It has been but a week, since I had an oppor'unify of addressing you upon the sub- ject of Temperance. It gives me much pleasure, upon this occasion, to assure you that my opinions in regard to Temperance associations, and the amount of good re- sulting from them, have not altered or changed in the least. The same burning zeal which you have mani- fested in this cause, is cherished not only in other parts of our State, but throughout the whole Union. I have APPENDIX. 181 vritnessed the exhibitions of this spirit in every place where it has been my fortune to visit. People are be- ginning to see the imminency of the peril to which they are exposed, and are devising means by which the fatal blow may be warded off. They have ascertained that nothing is more invulnerable to the darts which tempta- tion is continually assailing us with, than the impenetra- ble shield which the Temperance pledge throws around us. With this bulwark around us we can stand secure, and bid defiance to the foul monster. The Temperance Societies have been productive of much good — that they have broken the galling chains under which weeping hu- manity has been afflicted — that the morals of the people are much improved — that religion, ''pure, unpensioned and unstipendary," as it should be, finds an easier ac- cess to the human heart — that individual and national prosperity is advanced by their potent agency and magi- cal influence, no man in his common senses will pretend to contradict or deny. The fact stares us too boldly in the face for a negation to be raised. One thing is equal- ly flagrant and undeniable — that if it does no good, the Temperance Society does no harm or injury. If we look at it in this light, and we can view it in no other, we can- not consistently and conscientiously, I am persuaded, raise an objection againot it, though we may not aid in supporting it. If we do not intend to be sober, reflect- ing men ourselves, we certainly will not envy the same in others, when it is in our power to do likewise. If our friend in almost hopeless misery, upon the troubled waves of life's tempestuous ocean, siezes upon a plank or floating mass, by which he can pass securely over the lashing and surging billows to the long sought haven of rest, will we, though determined to sink by the leaden 182 APPENDIX. ' weights of our own cares, snatch from the resistless grasp of that friend the only hope tliat flits across his bewildered mind? If we set a resolution not to join the Temperance Society, let us use no exertions to prevent others doing it. I design, gentlemen, to be very plain in the few re- marks which I shall submit for your consideration, and shall by no means be personal in my casual allusions. — I should be very much mortified to think I had wounded the feelings of any one of my respected audience, bv a reference to such examples necessary, in the course of my speech. I believe many have been kept from joining us on account of the unmerited abuse we have been in the habit of heaping upon the intemperate. We should use milder means towards them, and address ourselves to their reason — to their judgment. I may use pretty strong language myself before I am done, but you will please remember that it is the crime and not the man I inveigh. The man I respect and admire, but the crime I loathe and hate. Although Temperance Societies have efiected much to man's social enjoyment, much more still remains to be done. Intemperance still stalks with a broad front in our midst. Distilleries are still sending a forth the poisonous liquid. It infects the atmosphere around its vicinity, and brings superlative misery and wo upon its attendants or visitors. Our Legislature would have reflected credit upon itself if it had stoped this evil at its fountain head, and stopped up all the ave- nues through which it is entailed upon the people. A still-house is unquestionably one of the greatest curses thas ever befel a community. The first one that ever was "erected, was in the flames of hell, and the Devil himself was the chief architect — he laid the corner-stoud APPENDIX. 1S3 wkli his impious hands. In hiM the materials are fitly framed together, and groweth to an unholy temple in Ms Satanic Majesty. His strong-holds must first be broken up before we can expect harmony and order pervading our country. But there is another wall behind -whic)) he has entrenched himself. That wall must also bo de- molished. Groceries must stop retailing the malady. — It must be considered disreputable to engage in such business. I heard an individual say that a grocery - keeper was keeping a toll-gate on the turnpike to hell. — Public opinion is not yet right upon this subject. It should frown down any attempts to establish such dog- geries, and if the country is to be entirely purged of drunkards, it must do the work. It is the tribunal t« which all appeals must be taken. It is not my purpose, on the present occasion, to speak of the deleterious eflfects of ardent spirits upon the phy- eical powers of man, nor do I intend to make a nomen- clature of diseases, and hold it up before you. You have doubtless been enlightened upon this subject by men better calculated to do it justice than mys:elf. Every candid, thinking mind unhesitatingly accedes that the effects upon the system are deplorable. This being too plain and manifest to occasion the shadow of a doubt t<* arise, I shall proceed in my simple manner to noiice some of the many objections which are daily urged against our Temperance Societies. There is a respect- able class of citizens amongst us who say they arc strong and decided temperance men, but contend thf.i we carry the joke entirely too far. They believe in Temperance, but can't stand this thing of tetotalism. — Temperance Societies, as they were first instituted, an- swered a very good purpose at that time, but will not ■m 1 84 APPENDIX. suit tlie present crisis. Those societies merely opened the way for the millenial dawn of total abstinence. Thus it was wiQi the colonists when they claimed all the rights and immunities of British subjects, but when in- dependence was in their grasp, they declared themselves, ''free, sovereign and independent people." That's the tieclaration we wish to make, and we earnestly entreat you to lend your aid and influence in entirely throwing off. the galling chains which bind us in worse than Brit- ish vassalage. If we were not to pursue this plan, and tolerate temperate or moderate drinking, where would we place the line of demarkation between a temperate man and a drunkard? The individual himself must be the judge, and if he gets dead drunk, he can say that lie has only taken it in moderation. You see then, this doctrin won't answer the purpose. And just here I make the bold and emphatic declara- tion, that every individual who drinks ardent spirits, either in moderation or otherwise, is in the strict sense, a bona fide drunkard. This is as plain a proposition as that things which are equal to the same thing, are equal to each other. JMow for the proof. How much of the article, let me ask, will it take to make you drunk? Do you say a quart? \Vell. Won't a pint do it? You say no. V\'ell, but if the first pint won't make you drunk, you have acknowledged that the second one will. Well, which one of these pints has had the greater agency in making you drunk? That is what you don't know. — Here then is the unvarnished fact. If a quart will make a man drunk, a pint will make him half drunk, half pint H fourth drunk, a gill an eighth, and so on. Thus we see he is a drunkard, let him take as little as he pleases. This is no syllogism, for every drop of the spirits must APPENDIX. 185 have its effect, otherwise you might take a barrel and you would feel no sensations of a toper. Some individuals contend that the Temperance Socie- ty is useless — that if one can quit drinking after having joined it, he can quit without joining it. And how is he to do it, but by setting a determination tacitly, that he will ever after disuse ardent spirits? Don't we know how susceptible we are of yielding to temptations, in spite of all our determinations and resolves? We ail make the most earnest vows and sacred promises, by the tacit consent of our unbridled passions and unhallowed inclinations, but break them with perfect indifference. — Its our nature to do so. The experience of every one who hears me, bears ample, unqualified testimony to this fact. We see then, that this objection is futile, and founded only for the purpose of occasional dissipation. Here, I trust, is another successful refutation of the many objections to temperance societies. There is another class of individuals who contend that the Church is a sufficient Temperance Society. Well, 6ure enough it is, but do they who profess to belong to the church, abstain from all uses of ardent spirits? Of late it seems there are as many members of the church getting drunk, as any other sort. It is Avith unfeigned regret that I say it, but truth must be proclaimed from every house-top. Besides this, there are a majority of people wdio belong to no church, and I suppose from such objections, that they can get drunk with impunity. There are no such weighty responsibilities resting upon them, which an initiation into religious orders impose, and as a matter of course owe no duty at all to society, in any of its ramifications. If you will believe me, Mr. President, I would rather undertake to convert ten 1 86 APPENDIX. rank infidels to the doctrines of Christianity, than one of these long-faced, sanctimonious, orthodox nominal christians, "vvho goes about with the Bible under his arms, and quotes from it in support of his side, to be a warm, thorough-going temperance advocate. There would be more probability of my succeeding. I have but little confidence in such christians. Their prospects for heaven, in my humble opinion, hang upon uncer- tainties. The Bible authorises no man to get drunk, — It gives an admonitory lesson to all who indulge in drinking. **Who hath wo? AVho hath sorrow? Who Jtaih contentions? Who hath babbling? Who liath ■wounds without cause? Who hath redness of eyes? — They that tarry long at the wine; they that seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth its color in tlie cup, when it moveth itself Kright. At the last it biieth like a serpent and stingeth like an adder." Some dreadful apprehensions and fear- ful omens have been awakened in this matter by those who profess to divine future events, especially in regard to the tendency of the system which we propose to your consideration, and which they oppose. They do not, 1 am appiehensive, entertain very serious fears upon this subject, for we have had no example of like nature in the history of the world. And what is it, after all? — Why they say, take care, you are upon dangerous pre- mises — you are about to unite Church and State. — Strange anomaly indeed! Is it the Church of England you are alarmed a't? We see christians of all denomi- nations meeting in good feeling upon this broad plat- form. The embittered animosity that may be exist- ing between them ra regard to religious dogmas and creeds, entirely disappears. Upon this subject they APPENDIX. 1 r>7 hieet and embrace each other. They are all one in tlii* cause. Why the Whigs and Democrats, as much as they hate each other, are ail friends when the banner of Temperance is placed before them. Are there then any exclusive pretensions in this matter? There are none. The Temperance opposition can find no subterfuge upon this point. Their arguments are their own refutation. But there is another very serious objection which con- stitutes the most plausible pretext for hostility to our cause that has yet been considered. I allude to thope gentlemen who are so chary of their inalienable and im- prescriptible rights. Who appear to disdain oppression in any of its protean forms. Who would not wantonly stain with their sacred hands, our country's bright es- cutcheon, and whose zeal for her promotion burns with untold enthusiasm. WMiat! shall an American citizen baselessly and ingloriously sign away his liberties for which his progenitors so nobly bled — so nobly died? — - Let us not imprecate the memory of the immortal dead, whose deeds and enterprises illumine the annals of our country. Let us not dim the bright lustre of their char- acters, by imputing to them things so disreputable — so unworthy. If the invaluable immunity and transcend - ant liberty of getting gloriously drunk — if the liberty of abusing your family and children, unconscientiously — if the liberty of laying in the gutters with your four-footed brethren, exposed to the pitiless storms — if the liberty of having black eyes and bloody noses — of weak minds and debilitated frames be the legacy transmitted to you by your forefathers, better, far better had they never broken the chains of European thraldom, and handed down to you unimpaired this boasted though much abused privilege. We have many privileges which we 183 APPENDIX. dare not exercise. What would you think of a man of such invidiousness that he would cut off his uose to spite his face? And. he has unquestionably the right to do it. Is it the part of wisdom to exercise such dangerous pri- vileges? The rats had undoubtedly the undeniable right to bell the cat, but when they considered the peril in doing it, they abandoned the idea. The discharge of such a function is fraught, not unfrequently, with the most direful calamities. When the serpent has prepared to bury its fangs into your person, is it depriving you of a very precious liberty, either to bruise its head or force you from it, thereby preventing your receiving the ma- lignant poison of death? Such is the privation you would be likely to endure were you to join the Temper- ance Society. We don't want you inconsiderately and thoughtlessly to deprive yourself of any of the rights and immunities of freemen. Do we propose to do it? — Reason tells you no. Outraged and provoked human nature tells you no. The cries and waihngs of the op- pressed and unfortunate, in tones louder than thunder, tell you no. The voice of poverty, and the lamenta- tions of the disconsolate tell you no. It is upon this principle that Satan acts. He says through the inspired pen of the poet, "To rule is worih ambition though in Hell; Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven." Whilst there are many among us who heartily ap- prove of our associations of this kind, we find many in that category who refuse to join the Society. Some of them too, are abstemious, considerate, sober men. And what's their objection? Simply that it would be doing no good — that they have no influence with others. — APPENDIX. 189 Well, you may say it, but I should dislike very much to tell either of you that you have no influence iu the world. If I Avere to address myself thus to a man, 1 should expect him to maul me with his fist, or uncase a bowie-knife for my benefit. If to a lady, I should expect her to tell me immediately, without a moment's reflec- tion, that she has as much influence as I have; or its equivolent. Show me an individual that has no influence in the world, and I do sincerely pity him. His God would not deign to receive him, and the Devil wotild not own him. I have too high an opinion of human nature to . believe any man is so lost to all the attributes and qualities of a man, as to declare, conscientiously, that he has no influence over some boon companion or rela- tive. I can never persuade myself it is true. Then you are obligated to join with us, in order to induce oth- ers on the broad highway to do likewise. If you have a friend or relative who is inclined to habits of dissipa- tion, you are bound b}^ the strongest ties of affection, to use your influence to reclaim that friend or relative from the snares into wdiich he is rapidly hastening. If a friend of ours were placed in' an upper story of a large edifice, and the report was given that the building was €n fire, and there were no possibility of escape but by leaping from a window, we would assemble around the place, fix an easy place for him to light upon, with out- stretched arms, and al the top of our voices, we would entreat him, exhort him, encourage him, to sum up reso- lution and save himself, before he is enveloped in the broad sheet of fire raging frightfully and terrifically be- neath or around him. This would seem to be the natu- ral impulse of our feelings, before time would allow us Tio reflect upon the most expeditious mode of rescuing or 1 90 APPENDIX. delirering our friend. But here is a case in which all the current flow of feeling and sensibility seems to be stopped up by cold and careless indifference. And it is one in which greater things are periled — greater, infin- itely greater interests are involved. He is not only placed in an eminently dangerous situation in regard to security and protection from injury, but the fires of hell are enkindled within his very vitals, which are not only extinguishing life, lut destroying the immortal soul. This is done, unfortunately, though unpiteously by his own suicidal hands. He is the auihor of his own guilt and crime. Does it not comport with the character of a good citizen, nay, is it not his bounden duty to use his best endeavors to reform that man — to wrest from his grasp the deadly weapons of his own destruction — to ex- tinguish those raging fires which are insiduously and in- dubitably effecting his eternal ruin? It is lamentably true, that we will see the brightest ornaments of creation cloven down and obscured by the consideration of our own personal gratification. Some would see the best in- terests of society destroyed, and the brightest hopes of glory dimmed, before they would discommode themselves ma small degree, by abandoning the intoxicating cup if it were not counteracting the hiws of Nature, it does seem to me ardent spirits would never be used. If it were produced in abundance by Nature — if the brooks und rills in their course wou^d murmur whiskey — if old ocean in her awful grandeur weie v/hi:ikey — if the clouds rtbove us were to distil in showers nothing but unadul- terated, genuine, bald-face whiskey, what a world would we have after a while? What a band of jolly fellows we would have? What inhuman crimes would not bo perpetrated? We would be like so many tigers eagerly APPENDIX. ID I watching for our prey. One tiger would come up to his brother tiger, and enjoy themselves by howHng, and growling, and fighting. All creation would resound with the intoxicating anin^ials. The earth upon which we tread would deviate from its orbit, and imitate the motions of a drunlien man. The sea would disfrorcre it- self of its mighty inhabitants, producing a stench that would taint the atmosphere by putrifying carcasses. Na- ture nevor designed a man sliould drink any thing that destroys his [equilibrium. This earth was never intend- ed to be inhabited by an order of beings wdio deprive themselves of their reason, by indulgence in dissipation, if a man drink regularly, though perhaps in strict mod- eration, in nine cases out of ten, he will eventually be- come a drunkard. It is without question the most dan- gerous way he can indulge. Much better if he would drink irregularly and to a greater extent at the time. If one dram is taken, another must be taken also to keep it company, and such repetitions are continued until the in- dividual is "seas over." One crime opens the way to another. "What harm is there in a pipe," savs one friend to another, to which hi^; companion replied, "none that I know, except smoking induces drinking — drinkin'/ induces intoxication — intoxication induces bile — bile in- duces dispepsia — dispepsia induces pulmonary con- sumption — pulmonary consumption induces death — put that in your pipe and smoke it." Now 1 say nothing de- rogatory to the practice of smoking, but merely intend i-> declare that one error is a stepping block to another. It is useless for men to talk of their power to eommand themselves, and not transcend the boundaries of modera- tion. I heard an individual not long since, give a narr??,- live of bis hfe upon this subject, and although it w.a3 a lit- 192 APPENDIX. tie metpliysical, it contained a good moral. He said, amid the allurements and fascinations of pleasure, with the gales of unclouded prosperity visiting him, when age, with none of its appurtenances, know him, he concluded to take a voyage upon life's ruffied waves. With many of his youthful corrpanions, he stepped on board the ship Indulgence, freighted with Misery, and bound for the city of Destruction. It -vvas his purpose to go only to the port of Moderation, which was but a short way off. The sails were hoisted, the news ''all's well" was heard, and the way they went. Every thing appeared as tranquil as the unrufHed surface of the silver lake. — No demon raised its black and terrific form before him. The smiles of Heaven pla3''ed disportingly around the gallant vessel. His eyes became fastened upon objects on the way, and his ears were saluted by the syren song of pleasure. He never looks to calculate the distance he has passed; 'nor does he keep a look-out for the place of his destination. Directly he is informed by some kind and affectionate friend that he has long since passed it by. He is surprised at the intelligence, but promises most faithfully to stop a short distance below, at a place called "Just Enough." Unconscious of the actelerated velocity he has acquired, he passes that in the rear also. He passes a httle farther' down the stream of hfe, and comes to a little village called Hiccough town, but he stops not there. Still onward is his course. The waves of trouble begin to dash furiously against his once peace- ful mind. Their undulations, liowever, did not suffi- ciently alarm him. In a few brief moments he finds himself at Puke City, whose streets are filth and mud. — He tarries here but a short time, visiting only the most prominent parts — such as Red-nose, and Red-eye street. APPENorx. 1 93 and Skin-sliln alley — to say nothing of Empty-purs^c lane, and the bye ways to Poverty, which are innumera- ble. But few more sands of the hour are exhausted till he finds himself at Drunkard's Island. The City of De- ■struction is in sight— he pauses to think, ihe waves bear- ing him rapidly to its harbor. He begins to look around him and to view his position. The most of his compan- ions with whom he set out on life's morning march have perished. He is led to ask himself the question, *'\Yhat shall I do to be saved." He raises his eyes and be- •holds the City of Refuge a short distance off, whose walls are massy gold— -whose streets sparkle with dia- monds — whose temples are dedicated to wisdom. Upon the loftiest summit thereabouts are seen its peaceful in- liabitants — the members of the Temperance reformation — with their arms extended, their voices tuned to their highest note. They warn him of his danger, and ex- hort him to fly to them for safety. Although he was becoming callous and indiiTerent, by their importunate entreaties he leaps over-board the evil bound vessel — * takes a "cold-water" shoot, and is felicitously, fortu- nately reclaimed. If there be one unfortunate individ- ual who has visited these places, I will admonish hin'i to stop! for grim death is before him. As one disinter- ested, I would invite him, by a regard for his standing and well-being, to touch not — taste not — handle not. — - If the serpent, once entwines its hiddeous folds around you, you are gone forever. The fate of Larcoon will be stamped upon your destiny. I- have read the fable of Circe who was celebrated for her art in magic, and whoever drank of her cup was immediately transformed into swine. We have a^oison in our midst, which men deliberately, and I might say fearlessly take, whieh not 194 APPK!a>ix. OEiy transforms them into beasts, but at tlie same time deprives them of their reason. Is there no Ulysses to release you, or Physician Hermes to administer to your relief? The Temperance Society is the only salutary rem- edy. By submitting to its requisitions you are restored to your reason, and rescued from the den of infamy and vice. Who is there in this free land of America, v/ho can calm- jy look at the history of the past, and more especially of individual man, and not feel a sense of responsibility resting upon him, to remedy, as far as he is able, the mal- ady which is striking a fatal blow at the happiness and perpetuity of governments, and blasting all the bright and glowing anticipations of gifted intelligence? Read the baitleof Hastings at which the English were drunk when the Normans headed by William, the conquero:^, gained a decided victory, and learn a moral from it. — Look to the degradation and hopelessness that Ilrt-q Leen entailed upon individuals, as it were, by the sedu- cing enchantments of wine. See the ingenuous youths upon whose characters and reputations are engrafted stains which all the waters of Lethe, nor ocean can wash out, and say you are not under obligations to aid in banishing this evil. Patriotism and humanity revolt at such listless dormency. Does any man ask for an evi- dence of the utility of such a system as the one which we have proposed to your consideration? Can he see the good it has done and is still doing, and then ask for additional testimony? If the whole host of reformed drunkards could be marshaled together in solid col- umn, and be permitted to speak at once upon this sub- ject, their simultaneous voices would be heard above the hoarse muttering thunder, telling in undying accents, tlse obligations they owe to the Temperance Society. AvA APPENDIX. ]9S «ould the affectionate wives and daughters of the land, whose husbands and fathers have been rescued from the «urse of this damning evil be heard, their voices would doubtless go up to heaven sweeter than the music of Da- vid's harp upon the troubled bosom of Israel's king, and there seal the declaration that Temperance Societies are invaluable. The angel smik* that plays innocently upon the glowing cheek — the heaven-descending rays of pros- perity upon the frugal — and the thanks-givings of the pure in heart, which are embalmed in eternal remem- brance — all bear conclusive and satisfactory evidence of their utility. Who have a better right to speak in this matter than the ladies? Not that they have ever dis- graced themselves by intemperance, but because they have had to endure the vituperacions and abuses of which intemperate husbands are generally so unsparing. No wonder then, that they have such anxieties in this mat- ter. No wonder they have nearly all come quietly into ihe fold, and are endeavoring to bring after them the other sex. They know full well that they have children to raise and train up for usefulness and honor, and that unless they are taught the lessons of sobriety in youth, the fruits of old age will be misery and crime. Go on then, ladies, I beseech you, in this glorious cause. Un- fold with your own hands that broad banner which is the sheet-anchor of our independence. May heaven Mmile upon your efforts, and may heaven be your reward. And now, in conclusion, let me exhort you, gentlemen, by the sacred obligations which are resting on you — by a regard for your own eternal happiness— by a debt which you owe to your country and your God* suspend your course in dissipation and be men, and christian men. This would be mj advice to you, though it was the last 19^ APPENDIX. word I Iiad to say. I can have no design in tlie world to deceive you. I am prompted by disinterestedness entirely in addressing you. May you not feel yourselves disinterested in your actions upon this subject in regard to your own welfare. Make up your determination speedily, and act according to the dictates of your dis- passionate judgments. Remember that delays are often dangerous. When Capua was taken, the walls of Car- thage trembled. The way to do is to "try all things, and hold fast that which is good." The influence of example is great and salutary. Enlist yourselves among BS, and let us continue to battle against the foe to hu- man happiness. Our rulers are beginning to help us, and we may receive encouragement from it, I observ- ed in some of the newspaper prints, a few days since, that the Legislature of New York, at its last sitting, formed a Temperance Society for the benefit of its own members. If our own State Legislature would only imi- tate their example, I have no doubt but they would kave shorter sessions, and pass 6e«er laws for the people. AN ESSAy ON THE MIND. A great deal has been said and written about the mind; its faculties and developments: but it has not been as- certained, as far as our information will permit us to judge, at what period its mightiest energies mature. — From the fact of some intellects developing sooner than others, we would infer that this question never will be settled definitely. Some minds expand to the fullest lim- its in youth, whilst others, under the same kind of cul- ture, are not equally vigorous at a more advanced age. Why this is the case, men of intelligence have not yet APPENDIX. 197 agreed. It is generally conceded, however, that be- tween the age of twenty-five and thirty, (the precise time not being stated) the mind will be as stong as it will be ever after, and a period beyond this might be fixed upon with a degree of certainty. There have been precocious geniuses in the world who attracted consid- erable notoriety, and gained merited applause on account of the attainments they had made long before they had laid aside the toga of puberty. The Muses were glad- dened at the effusions of Pollock and Kirk White, who seemed to have been destined by nature to enjoy an en- viable pre-eminence among the literary characters of the world, but their sun went down while it was yet day. Early death seems to be the fate of those who make a brilliant display upon the theatre of life while very young. It is a remarkable fact, that those early geniuses whose productions have been preserved, and of whose charac- ters history gives an account, and who have lived to an old age, seldom ever surpass their first eflforts. This may not be universally true, but it is confirmed in many characters of whose writings we are familiar. That Pollock, had he lived until he was three-score years and ten, would never have given to the world a work supe- rior to the "Course of Time," I believe is the opinion of a great many. In consideration of the many examples of like nature, of which our own history abounds, it does seem evident that in most cases, that premature geniuses are subject unavoidably to premature decay. Destiny must accomplish its work. The budding intellect is often nipped as it were in the bloom. It decays, droops, and dies in the dawning of spring. It ia said that ge- nius is celebrated for its peculiarity and excentricity. — We find some strange features in the character of every 1^8 APPENDIX. man of superior ability. It was said of Molanus that-, under the influence of a mental hallucination, he was un- willing to go along the streets for fear he would be picked up by a fowl and swallowed for a barley. These are some of the symptoms of genius. It should be a matter of great concern, that the mind should be direct- ed to its proper and legitimate goal. It appears to be true, that a wrong direction has been given to the laud- able efforts of the struggling intellect. The first inquiry in relation to this matter should be, in what is the indi- vidual most likely to succeed? This being ascertained satisfactorily, all others should be laid aside. I am not one of those agreeing with Quintellian that the same fac- ulty of mind which made Germanicus an accomplished general, would, with the requisit amount of attention and care, have made him an excellent poet or orator. It is not denied but that some minds could succeed admira- bly in almost any department, but it is not believed that he cannot master one thing better, more expeditiously, and with greater facility than some other. In a word, every man has what is called a genius for a particular thing. What we mean to assert is, that Addison had more talent for writing than he had for speaking — that the Duke of Wellington is better qualified for the camp than the Queen's parlor or the House of Commons. — This assertion if true, puts at naught the idea advanced that the mind is originally a perfect blank — for if we reason from this data we would conclude that with the same perseverance in the influence of like circumstan- ces every man would be equally intelligent, which can- not possibly be true. It maybe that our intellect is too short to penetrate the obscurity that lingers around this subject, but by a parity of reasoning we draw dif- APPENDir, I ?9 ferent conclusions. To believe the American Savage, vith the same tuition, could have penetrated the dark re- cesses of science like a Newton, and opened a new field of discovery and speculation, is to admit things which experience and history teach is untrue. Around some species of the human race nature has erected an impenetrable wall. Their intellectual visions are as short and indistinct as the mole that forces its way ihrougk the earth. Were they to live a full century, surround- ed by all desirable means of improvement, it is not pro- bable they would ever make RTiy important advance- ments in literary attainments. Where i.s the excellent schollar — the correct writer — and popular orator among the Africans? When a thousand years, pregnant widi advantages and encouragements, shall have passed over them, it will be found that they have not made onesingl(^ step in the march of mind. One defect is, they don't seem to have the will — -the ambition, and zeal to uriie them to action. They are too much subject to the in- fluences of the grosser passions of our nature. Tiic. constant direction of their efforts is downward and not upward. They would rather burrow in the earth tlian soar heavenward on fancy's eagle pinions. Men may speculate at pleasure upon the wisdom which Providence displays in all his works, but one thing for- ces itself upon us irresistibly: that a portion of the hu- man family are destined, eternally, to live in a starless night of unproductive ignorance, because they possess faculties insusceptible of the smallest degree of improve- ment. If this be true, and it bears the seal of plausi- bility upon its front, it would seem at first blush, that iron-handed fatalism had fastened its grasp firmly and steadfastly upon the destiny of those who claim to be ^00 APPEIS'DIX,. endowed, in some degree, with a moity of tliat ratibnali- ty which characterises intellectual intelligences from those destitute of mind. But there are things "w^hich bear the semblance of truth, which are flagrant falsehoods. The- designs of the Deity may be impugned, like those of man» without any just reason or complaint. It is enough for man to know., that his duty requires him to make all the improvement of which he is able, whatever be the restraints and incumbrances, and then he will have dis- charged his whole duty, to himself and his Creator. A^f ESSAY OIT THE COMPARATIYE HAPPINESS OP INTELLIGENT AND BARB AROVS NATIONS. Much has been written and said about the comparative happiness of civilised and barbarous nations, but so far from settling the dispute upon this subject, it is involved m still greater obscurity. In all probability this ques~- tion will never be settled — the learned and great hav^e not been reluctant in expressing their convictions in fa- vor of both positions. Among the variety of topics for speculation, none afford more ample scope than this. If the question could be decided, no very great conquest would be gained, nor would the species of the human race be much benefitted or edified by it. The most plausible opinion, at first glance, would seem to be, that in proportion to the intelligence, is the happi- ness enjoyed — that importunities, bickerings, and strife recede before the lights of learning and wisdom, and that objects of smaller concern are forgotten in consequence of the mind being absorbed in subjects of greater magni- tude, and of necessity deeper interest — that the higher order of intellects are capacitated to. enjoy b, higher de* APPENDIX. 20 1 gree of felicity, by this assumption,, than the less inform- ed. If this were invariably true, a larger proportion of the human race would be destitute of the means of hap- piness — their doleful lamentations would burthen the winds with sighs, and the fair surface of the globe filled with thorns of misery. In short, this Eden would be converted into a Pandemonium — and the residence o^f peaceful man into the habitations of the damned: for the the larger portion of mankind are ignorant and illiterate. If the position be correct, more attention would be paid to the improvement of the sciences and arts — to the ex- altation of human nature by means of such improve- ments, and the dissemination of truth, which renders hu- man, nature dignified — for all mankind should follow those paths in which there are no thorns, and in which are found the greater amount of uninterrupted happi- ness. But it is generally believed that mankind are more fre- quently instruments of their own misfortunes than happi- ness. This would seem to militate against our thesis. It does not, however, involve its correctness, for excep- tions are found to all rules — it would not be a fair as- sumption to take a few isolated examples in confirmation of this theory. It is not absurd to say that the more in- telligence aman possesses the greater are his obligations, and vice versa— following the rule inversely, that **where little is given, little will be required." Mr. Maddin, in his infirmities of Genius, has given the characters of several men of eminence, before w^hcse miiid's eyes appeared gorgeous visions and apparitions, which created sensations of fear and of their having incur- red the displeasure of their God. Cowper was a genius of Misdescription. Happiness had entirely forsaken his habi- 202 APPENDIX. tations. Pleasure, with its fascinations, ceased to linger p.round him. Hope did not spring exultingly in his bo- som, and these rendered his hfe a burthen to him. This example does not corroborate our theory, only so far as it shows how insusceptible men of learning generally are of the highest and sublimest enjoyments of life. It often blasts their reputations — it grieves them to see others ap- parantlyin higher enjoyments than themselves. It was this reflection that brought heaviness and gloom upon the mind of Rasselas (one of Johnson's characters.) He be- held the beasts of the field more felicitous than himself. Clouds of grief hung thick around him — envy seized hh heart and cloyed the vernal joys of life. But to revers'^ the picture, a quite different aspect is presented us. We behold pure, unadulterated, extatic ha])piness smiling around the abode of every man in ordinary circumstan- ces. There peace uninterrupted reigns — there discord ,and contention seldom enter. "The fond soul, Wrapp'd in gay visions of unreal bliss, Still paints the illusive form," is not applicable to his situation. The Savage life is the most happy, judging from external circumstances. The red man of the forest pursues such game as the country affords, and is salistied. His bows and implements of sport are objects affording him exquisite amusement. He asks not for wealth and honors — but security in soli- tude. On public occasions these children of nature as- semble together, animated with the prospective amuse- ments which are to characterize the day. Unhallowed desires find no harbor in their bosoms. They celebrate the convival meeting with a rustic dance, and disperse in good humor. APPENDIX. 20. ^ Such a state of happiness the civilized commimity has never enjoyed: although civilized man would be unwil- ling to exchange his lot for that of the savage — the savage would be unwilling to make the exchange himself. Alexander was not satisfied with the wealth and emol- uments of a whole world, and Diogenes was content with the circumscribed limits of his tub. What induced this conqueror of the world to exclaim, "Were I not Alex* ander I would be Diogenes! It was the consciousness of his own misery when compared to the pleasures of Dio- genes. Upon the whole, I am rather inclined to the opinion that the more ignorant the man is the more happiness he enjoys: and on the contrary, that a man is better prepar- ed to enjoy such happiness when his mental faculties are enlarged and expanded I will admit; but how often does he abuse it and heap ruin upon his own head. Sur- rounded as they were by all the glories of a Paradise, and instructed by the voice of the Deity, without having dreamed of bringing death into our world with all its woe, our First Parents were not contented — the tree of knowledge tempted them, and they ate of ^the forbidden fruit, and fell from their primeval simplicity and purity. And thus it is the world over. When a man is capable of enjoying himself he is not satisfied, and his change* are always for the worse. AI!T ESSAY ON" THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL. Upon no subject, probably within the range of human speculation has there been a greater diversity of opinion than the immortality of the soul. Some absolutely denv that there is such a thing. The doctrine of the immor- tality of the soul is not confined to the period of modern 204 APPENDIX. disputation alone, but it was strongly and ably advo- cated by ancient Sages and Philosophers, whose eyes never caught the light which the volume of Divine In» spiration has since spread over the world. This doctrine breathed from the inspired pen of Plato — it shed a hal- lowed light around the prison of Socrates — and it found an able defender in the person of the immortal Cicero. Minds that never read the sublime strains of Isaiah were convinced by the infallible evidences of human nature, and the demonstrations of science, that the grave did not complete their existence. It was the received notion that the soul had to cross the river Styx before it en- tered the abode of the blessed. The doctrine of metemp- sychosis propogated by the celebrated philosopher of Samos, discloses his belief, and that of the age generally, in which he flourished upon this point. The descent of Aleneas into the Infernal regions corroborates the same. But as the Christian Religion advances, this doctrine is more universally embraced, for upon this is it based. — How pleasing is the thought that our eternal existence does not terminate with this life; that our conditions will be generally improved, and that we will receive new accessions of happiness in every change, still approach- ing the [perfections of the Deity? How it immeasura- bly expands the soul, exalts the mind, and incompara- bly magnifies our feelings and senses? The thought of death spreads a pall of gloom around us, and damps our spirits. But when we are convinced that the dead shall be raised again in newness of life — that that "which is sown in corruption shall l)e raised in incorruption — that which is sown in dishonor is raised in glory: in weakness raised in power — and that which is sown a natural body will be raised a spiritual body," our mourning is changed APPENDIX. ^ into superlative joy. What consolation can we lay to our bosom of the doctrine of Annihilationism be true? Upon what smoothe surface could we paint our objects of delight? Upon what beacon could our eyes rest, that, would not soon be extinguished like a flickering taper? What desolate path would noble deeds and virtuous ac- tions irradiate? In such belief is found "Ko light; but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe, Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace And rest can never dwell." Take away from man the hope of future enjoyments, and you virtually take from him every thing life is worth living for; you thereby stop up the fountain of bliss which flows from the throne of God to his creature man. Darkness would be his habitation on earth, and nonentity his por- tion when compelled to leave it. Upon this subject Ci- cero has expressed himself thus. *'If I am wrong in believing that the souls of men are immortal, I please myself in my mistake; nor while I live will I ever choose that this opinion, with which I am so much delighted, should be wrested from me. But if, at death, I am to be annihilated, as some minute philosophers suppose, I am not afraid lest those wise men, when extinct too, should laugh at my error." Apart from the lights of Revelation upon this subject, we are constrained by the dictates of reason and com- mon sense to believe it. Annihilationism does not com- port with the character, wisdom, and attributes of the Deity. It literally puts at naught the design of the Great Architect and Ruler of the Universe. It under- mines the cardinal principles of the christian religion. — Jor if the soul be not immortal, I would not give a fig "206 APPENDIX. for the advantages of a Revelation. The loftiest aspi- rations of genius, the playful excursions of fancy, the unweaning desire of posthumous renown, the upspring- mo- of elastic hope, the inward consciousness of good or bad actions, and the vaultings of a proud ambition af- ford ample indications of the existence of a principle that will never die. "Whence springs this pleasing hope, this fond desire. This longing after immortality? Or, whence tliis secret dread, and inward horror, . Of falling into naught? Why shrinks the soul Back on herself, and startles at destructiont" has been asked by a man of high reputation, and in^an- *wer to his own question, solves the problem thus, *' 'Tis the divinity that stirs within us." If death ends our existence, for what were we erected? Does man Hve merely to die? If so, what good has he accomplished by his death? Does a thirst for knowledge in its various departments — the certaijity with which the revolutions of heav native force of their intellects. They contended for a spiritual disenthraldom, and to disrobe the Pope of that authority which he had so unconscientiously abused.— Nor did they abuse the power which they had gained. — They possessed zeal worthy of the men, and as such it should be cherished and cultivated. If it is shamefully abused, the individual had better never have been born. Who can estimate the injury done the world, morally, ecclesiastically and politically by the perversion of intel- lect? Can it be calculated how much evil has been don« by the subtle and insidious talent of Gibbon upon Chris- tianity — the incredulity of Hume — the sarcastic and venomous sneers of Voltaire — the infidel deism of Kus- seau, and the stubborn impiety and low ribaldry of Paine? Had their minds been directed towards the proper ob- jects, they might justly have been called the benefactora, instead of the enemies of mankind. The shock that has 224 APPEKDIX. been given to religion by sucb men will be felt maRj days hence. It is hard to eradicate entirely from the mind, long existing errors. No truth is more evident than that "the evil a man does Hves after him." The intiu- «nce of example is great and salutary. It lives after the man has passed the cold Jourdan of death. Like the setting of the sun in the West, leaving a radianoe and lustre behind, the character and disposition of an individual will remain after he is dead, and have an in- :Suence upon those with whom he lived and associated. There is another category of men entitled to but little of our gratitude or commendation. If the warrior, eager for battle, and animated by a spirit of liberty, perishes around her sacred temple, he is engaged in a good cause, and we lament his fall. If by his dauntless Herculean bravery he protects it from violence, we join in exulta- tion, and admire his zeal. But when oceans of blood have been shed, and human victims bleed at her shrine in resisting oppression — when iron-heeled despotism struts through the land, nations weep and tremble. The earth we tread is one common battlefield. War is the study of the wise, and work of the brave. The conquer- or secures his victory and prepares for new conquest. — lie slays the last enemy, and weeps for more worlds to •onquer. The world seems too little for him, when at the same time, a philosopher had **ample room and verge enough" in a tub. The lion of Carthage whose ambition led him to think he could conquer the proud mistress of the world, died an ignoble death before he had released himself from hi« allegiance. The man of Corsica breathed his last a mis- erable exile at St. Helena. Ill-fated ambition destroys their aspirations, and most all the conquerors in the aia- APPENDIX. 225 nals of history, who fought for plunder, rapine and power in the end, had to submit to, and be contented with ikt victory oi Pyrrhas. AX ESSAY ON THE CHIVALRY OF TENNESSEE. Ever since Tennessee made her advent into the Union as a State, her history has been replete with the most il- lustrious daring of her citizens. Theie never was a time when she failed to contribute her aid in the defence of the Union. Invincibility has been written on the es- cutcheon of her military renown. Whenever a position of the enemy is to be moved, her pennant is always seen waving above the breach. In the last war with Great Britain, in which she rendered herself signally illustrious, she evinced a patriotism and a chivalry which challenges the admiration of the v/orld. She met and repelled a magnanimous and hitherto invincible soldiery. The pride and boast of the British Nation who had defeated Kapoleon at the battle of Waterloo, who were led to the charge by a brave commander, had to cower before the dauntless Tennesseans. Napoleon who waved his victo- rious Hag, nearly, throughout all Europe, and who, in other words, stretched his subduing «*arm over Egypt and the Isles, until Arab and Ethiopia bowed in bondage, and the triumphs of Alexander became the trophies of the modern Hercules," was signally defeated by the Duke of Wellington at the battle of Waterloo. The ilower of his army flushed with victory gained over the French, led the van at the battle of New Orleans. The result of the engagement is well known, Tennessee sol- diers, commanded by a Tennessee Genera], rebuked the insolence of the invaders in the most summary manner, as you well kROW. This gives her a supremacy ovey all tt^ ' APPENDIX. our citizens, and raise, upon one or two occas.vi^?, tu> shout of victory, but like the last song of the swan, it ■will be but the premonitor of their early defeat. Suppose it were possible upon this occasion that we were placed in one vast amphitheatre of Nature, and sup- pose that upon consulting about what course to pursue in relation to the war, the ghosts of our revolutionary an- cestors were to appear in the galleries, where they could be spectators of what was said or done? Suppose it pos- sible with their gastly looks to participate in our councils, what would be their language of admonition andencour- agement? The Father of his country would tell us that as we had prepared for war in time of peace, to hve inde- pendent or sink in the grave; the dauntless Warren, who was an early martyr in the cause of human hberty, would say as he perished in his youth, let the youth grasp his sword for the combat, and cut the gordian knot of oppres- sion or perish amid the din of arms. Another would exhort us as we love our country and her institutions, "don't give up the ship." Another who had "filled the measure of his country's glory" would tell us now is the golden moment to move; to let action be our motto, and "all is safe." Who that has the heart of a patriot within his bosom would be in- sensible to their admonition? Who would not respond, that as he loves his country — as he is proud that he is an American citizen, as he reveres the sacred ashes of his fathers, he is willing to fight, and if be falls, the cause of liberty will not fall with him? LIBRARY OF CONGRESS llf 011 897 011 1