Oration <±el\vtreA at the Xrva^^^T^tttan of tV»e Bu-^ op /W rew Jack son in Mem^l his 1859, "By Hon. /WrewL y Wm %■ Glass L_. Book l-E r«*^^B r J± N OEATION DELIA BRED on TH E 0( i ASIOS 01 Inauguration of the Bust erected to the Memory o ;■ GEN. ANDKEW JACKSON. In the City of Memphis, January 8, 1859. r. v HON. A X D R E W E W I N G OF NASHVILLE. V u i I f s t) m t » request c f t li r Committee, NASHVILLE: ... MAN & CO., PRINTERS, I'XIOX AX] 18 5 9. ." w X^CSpb N ,\\. v v»», «- . , ,^* '* \ ORATION. Fellow-Citizens of Memphis: It affords me great pleasure in complying with your invitation to be present on this gala day I have long been desirous that the people of Nashville and Mem- phis should cultivate friendly feelings towards each other, and no more illustrious or ennobling occasion for their exercise could be presented, than the erection of a statue to our distinguished coun- tryman, Jackson, on the banks of this great "highway of States. Mr. Joel T. Parish, a liberal and patriotic stranger, lately domiciled here, thought he could not make to the home of his adoption a more acceptable donation than the marble bust, by a distinguished artist, of one of the foundersof your city, and the P I man of the age that is past. You have accepted the noble present, and on this anniversary of the great victory at New Orleans, it is pro- posed to install it on the site, where, wc fondly trust, it will long remain as the guardian genius of your beautiful city. There has always a; c I to me a peculiar fitness in the grand idea you are this day consummating. Memphis is unquesti mably the great centre of intercommunication for the valley of the Mis- sippi. This vast river, that ever rolls by you so deep and strong, is the main artery of the South and West, and it.bears annually on its bosom the products of the most fertile country of the world. You are now connecting by railroads with all sections of the Union cast of the Rocky Mountains; and when the locomotive shall travel on its path from the Pacific towards the Atlantic, it must debouch at this great central point of commerce and pro- duction. Whether, then, the travel be by land or water, on busi- ness or pleasure, by the thriving merchant, the I iisy artisan, the scientific explorer, the active farmer, or the poor ii ant wend- ing his way to the far "West, all, all, must pour in one ceasel - tide through the environs of your magnificent emporium. What place, then, more appropriate for installing s< me ato of the illustrious dead: s< ing that will cause th busy. throne: of life to pause for a moment and remember the Fioneer Chieftain of our State : a marble bust whose sight will recall the memories of the past — the wilderness and the Indian, the paint and the Mar-hoop — the musical names of Emuchfaw, Talladega, Enotochopco, with all the thick coming memories of Carroll, Coffee, Montgomery, Armstrong, and a hundred ether brave men, the primitive warriors of the land? No person -who has ever passed N >rth Bend in a steamer, seen the rush of passengers to the upper deck, the longing gaze fixed on the white palings that fence around the quiet, peaceful tomb of General Harrison, and then marked the sadness and softness visible on each face as the vessel moved slowly away, can ever misunderstand the solemn, chasten- ing effect of these reminders of our forefathers. They come as the swell of distant music at night, tearing us away from the pres- ent, and carrying us back to the shadow of vanished years and peoples. No man described in the pages of history has ever exerted magical an influence over a numerous, ^w,' and enlightened pop- ulation, as did the "Hero of the Hermitage." The character of General Washington is unquestionably more perf - life alto- gether a more harmonious whole, his earlier and later yea] - e in unison with each other, and his name more revered throughout the Union; but in his day and generation he never excited the enthu- siasm of friends, or struck the terror and admiration into foes, that was exhibited throughout the Ion:: public career of General son. and lasted even after his retirement to the Hermitage. / roused human feeli >just as one of your own huge lashe up the waves of the Missi : ; i, and Leaves it heaving and iming upon the shores long after the vessel hi iredintl distanc . Who that has reached the meridian of life can ever forget the fierce storms that clouch d our ] '■':'■ al horizon frcm 1824 to 1845; the waves of excitement that ran rolling and rushing through the States, as the billowy flame o'er the gras i t the prairies. It w almost like some wild dream. We can scarcely yet fully comprehend what it was that so convul i of allranksand conditions in life. But, in my opinion, ling elements in pr suchanup-h ; of the mas is, was the peculiar char- acter and attributes of General Jackson— the admiration of his friends, the hatred of his foes. From the moment lie appeared on the arena, his lofty plume was the "banner of his party," and the " attacking point" for his opponents. He was guarded by hosts of friends, ready to die in his defence: he was attacked by enemies who regarded nothing as achieved unless he was over- whelmed and defeated. Of course I would not be understood as meaning that personal feeling was all, or even the greater part of what was involved in the contest to which I have referred. No doubt great principles were debated and decided in the i then submitted to the people; but my reference is particularly to the stormy aspect given to the battle by the personal character- istics of the great champion of the Democracy. If Ave should live a thousand years, we will never again see the wand of any enchanter so exercised over this nation; not from the fact that such a leader may never arise in our midst, but be- cause our people are no longer homogeneous. They are no more linked together by an electrical chord, which, touched in Maine, would vibrate to the shores of the Gulf of Mexico. When the war of 1812 commenced, the inhabitants of the Eastern and Southern Atlantic States were still united by relationship, feeling and interest. The troops who had fought and lived together dur- ing the weary days of the Revolution were, many of them, still alive, and felt for each other the warm attachment always gener- ated by the mutual privation, excitement and glory of a successful Avar. The citizens of the Middle and Western States were mostly immigrants from the shores of the Atlantic — they Avcrc a young community — men of warm and generous hearts, full of enterprise, all more or less connected with the homes they had recently aban- doned, and bound together by a common object in life, and a com- mon hostility to their Indian foes. The victories achieved by Southern troops in Alabama and at New Orleans Avere proudly estimated throughout the Union, and the names of Jackson, Car- roll and others, Avere fondly cherished on the banks of the < >iiio, the Kennebec, the Hudson and the Delaware. Hence it was, that when he Avas nominated for the Presidency, in 1821, there was scarcely a family in the country where his name was not familiar, and his services freely canvassed. The race he then ran Avas purely personal. CraAvford, Adams, Clay and himself were at that time members of tho Republican party. The war-cries of Blavery and and anti-slavery, union and disunion, abolition and a-nti-abolition, were then unknown. The religious associations :re still harmonious, and brethren everywhere recognizing each other as members of the same church. The Northern schoolmas- ter was warmly welcomed in the South, and the Southern orator heard with delight throughout New England. The fires that were kindled in one State could spread equally in all directions. It is unnecessary for me to recite the changes that have occurred since those halcyon days, or to show the reason why the services or character of no single individual can ever again he estimated as tliey were then, or his mere name become a watchword of con- test from the Aroostook to the placid waters of the Pacific. This fact will he taken as admitted, and the conclusion drawn that, whatever may be the fate of our Union, whether shattered into fragments or moving forward as a united empire, after ages will refer with peculiar pleasure to the period of his existence, and dwell upon it with delight, as the golden age of the Republic — the time of united action as a nation, even amidst a violent shock of opinions. I would fain hope that no deluge of barbarism will ever sweep over America, such as that which covered medei- val Europe, erasing the vestiges of the past, destroying our li- braries, removing the land-marks of our civilization, and leaving future ages partly dependent on our coins, our statuary, and our tumuli, for the knowledge of what we now are. It would seem that, humanly speaking, such a result was impossible; but so thought Thebes, Athens, and Home in the days of their glory, but they were swallowed up in the storm, and such may be our fate. If such a calamitv should ever overtake our continent, its civili- zation bo buried in ruins, and its history turned into song and tradition, yet when this darkness shall have passed away, and another rev ival of learning, progress and advancement commenced, the story of our primeval condition will again be eagerly sought, and form the bus-den of labor for generations to come. 1 have concluded fellow-citizens, after some reflection that it would; ; bi properorint< esting l occasion like the present, to detain you for two or throe hours with a detailed hi of ■ life of Gen. Jackson, and a .1. ' of his political measures. the province rather of the historian than the orator. Most of you too arc familiar with the leading events of his later life, ami some of you no doubl ho differ I from him in many of his political views and acts. He is now common property, death has severed party bands, and left us to feel and think of him only as an American, and as the first and greatest of the suns of Tennessee. It is most expedient therefore to pre tent you a sketch of his early life, point to you the leading features of his character, and illustrate them as far as possible by a recurrence to some of their most striking developments. lie was born under the burning sun of South Carolina, in the early part of the year 1707, and his parents were poor immigrants from "The Emerald Isle." From the lips of his mother, he eaidy heard recounted the sufferings of his grand-father, at the siege of Carrickfergus, and the unpardonable wrongs inflicted by the English, on the down trodden peasantry of his fatherland. The very lullaby that soothed his infant cry, was a wailing protest against lawless oppression and heartless tyranny. lie enlisted as a soldier in the war of the American Revolution, at the early ago of fourteen, and hastened to meet the proud invaders, who had crossed the ocean to renew their persecution of the fugitive exile 3 from Ireland. He was soon taken prisoner, ordered by a British officer to clean his boots, and upon his refusal to perform this menial service, smitten with an unmanly blow that nearly ter- minated his existence. He rose from the Ground, burning with indignation and appealing proudly to the future for his redress against his insolent foe. When the struggle for our Independence had terminated, his little patrimony was exhausted, and in looking around for a pur- suit in life, he chose the profession of the law, and wended his way to North Carolina, where he spent a short period in endeavor- ing to qualify himself for the practice. The confinement of study, however, little suited his ardent temperament, and after a short novitiate he left his teacher and following the pathway of immi- gration, turned his face to the West, and slowly climbed to the top of the mountains, that separate us from the East. Could ;i prophet of old, lave stood by the side of the youthful adventur as he reached the summit of the Blue Ridge, what a ing vision would he have unfolded ! Stretched at their feet, lay the of We i Tennessee, reaching from the mountain to tl I res of "The Father of Waters.'' It was then clothed with unbroken forrest and matted cane, through which roved innumerable herds of wild animals, and tribes of wilder Indians. Its untold wealth of coal, iron and productive soil stood untouched and almost un- known; the field was ripe for the gleaner, and behold he had come young, lithe and spare, there he stood with the sickle in his hand. Now the seer would have said " Look yonder to the banks of the beautiful Cumberland, see where it sweeps suddenly to the West, there you shall pitch your tent, and upon the spot you will aid in founding the capital of a mighty State ! Look down upon the rolling waters of the Tennessee as they glide almost at our feet ; upon its banks, you will defeat and nearly exterminate these tribes of Indian warriors, now so fierce and bold ! From the shores of yon mightiest of rivers, will come up to you a wail of fear and distress ; with your brave associates in arms you will hasten to their relief, and on the plains of New Orleans, pay back the long delayed debt of vengeance you owe to the proud op- pressors of your native and fatherland. A great city will be res- cued from sack and desolation, your name will be magnified in the land ; you will be borne in triumph to Washington, and for eight vears preside over the councils of this widely extended Republic. You will return in eld age to the banks of the Cumberland, and there close your days in peace, amid the profound regret of my- riads of happy and prosperous people." Such might have been the prophecy addressed to him, but no such vision gladdened his eye, he was yet poor and friendless, and he would have years to struo-o-le before a name or position could be won. He traveled on to Nashville, finally concluded to locate there, and was soon ap- pointed Attorney General, in which office he served for several years, until the call for a Convention to draft a Constitution pre- paratory to our admission into the Union. We find him then a member of the Convention, it was a solemn occasion, the corner stone of an empire was to be laid, the pioneers were assembled and there was work to be done, there was no ap- petite for speaking, no place for abstractions. They had the con- stitutions of older States in their hands, and it was only necessary to follow the models, the labor was soon ended, the deed was done and Tennessee was ready for admission into the Union. T ent of Congress was soon afterwards given, and ided into the family of States, as gracefully as a frigate cuts the waves when 9 her stays arc thrown loose from the stocks. It were lon •■ ' m under fire were bis s in all his enga hose immediately under lii • own eye nevt r fit 7. The angry countenance of their General 11 was more terrible than ll onets of tlic enemy. In tlio crisis of a campaign, his eye never slept, : . ■-< • med incapable of exhaustion. During all the stirring contests around the citv of New Orleans. his body and mind were constantly in action, on foot and on horse- back, among3t the troops or in his tent, he seemed incapable of fatigue and almost omnipresent. lii.- courage is universally admitted, but its particular asr pect and development is "worthy of remark; he did not possess the steady nerve and never failing presence of mind of his illus- trious compeer, General Carroll, his nature was fiery and impet- uous, and his courage was of the same ardent character. His look on a day of battle was terrible. When he rose on his stirrups, drew his sword and gave the signal for a charge, the foam licv, from hi- lips, and his -whole face was one concentric flash of elcc- tricitv. Electrical it must have been, for it communicated courage to men who had little training or discipline as soldiers, and who had to meet the fearful war-whoop of Indians, and the steady s of British regulars. Perhaps, however, the best test of his true nerve was exhibited when in collision with his own mutinous soldiery. The scene at Ten Islands between him and the brigade of Tennessee volunteers, was one of the most heroic and affectin^ that is presented in military annals. They claimed that their term of service was about to expire, and that they would return home and disband. He strongly urged that they were enlisted for a longer period of actual service, and that their retreat would ruin the campaign. He appealed to their oaths, their honor, and that of the State which would be sacrificed by their d rtion. His eloquent appeal was in vain. Host from the pri- vations of war, thoughts of home and pride of opinion, proved jjhtier than all the reasoning or persuasion of their General. It was then when all other means of restraining them had failed, that taking counsel from his own high view of patriotism, and duty to the country, he determined to risk his own life rather than submit to the demands of his mutinous soldiery, and thus addressed them: '*I cannot, must not believe that the volunteers of Tennessee, a name ever dear to fame, will disgrace themselves, and a country they have honored, by abandoning her standard as mutineers and deserters; but should I be disappointed and com- pelled to abandon this pleasing hope, one thing I will not resign, 12 4 my duty. Mutiny and sedition, so long as I have the power of quelling them, shall be put down ; and even when left destitute of this. I will still be found in the last extremity, endeavoring to discharge the duty I owe to my country and myself." The day claimed for discharge was the 10th of December, and the morning of the 9th broke dark and threatening, the men stood in groups, arguing and asserting their rights. The officers were nerving themselves for the struggle. Before sun-set, it was hurriedly communicated to the General, that these troops were in open rebellion, and ready to decamp. He immediately announced the fact to his other troops by general order, posted his artillery in their front, ordered Col. Wynne's militia to seize the eminences beyond them, and then mounted his horse and rode up and down their line. He addressed them in lofty and impassioned strains of eloquence, conjuring them even yet to desist, and freely exposing his person to their fire. They hesitated, but stood their ground. He then closed with these memorable words, " I have done with entreaty, it has been used long enough. I will attempt it no more. You must now determine whether you will go or stay, if you still persist in your determination to move forcibly off, the point be- tween us shall soon be decided." The lines wavered but did not retire, he raised himself to his full height, ordered the artillerists to prepare their matches, and braced himself for the shock ; but the contest was over, shame and admiration had done its work, the word "return" passed rapidly down the line, their arms were brought to their shoulders, they were soldiers again, and the mutiny was at an end. It may be thought on superficial examination that this exhibi- tion was one of rashness on the part of the General, that he might have brought his troops into collision, made the waters of the Tennessee run red with the blood of his own soldiers, and have irreparably broken up his army ; not so however did he think and his judgment was right. He knew that the Indians were divided as to the policy of the war, and were arrayed against each other. If he was compelled to retreat, the "peace party" would be over- whelmed, and the whole nation at once precipitated on the settle- ments. "We were contending too almost for existence with the greatest power of the earth, it might, and did soon become neces- sary for us to measure arms with the British legions. If mutiny 13 and sedition could nol be prevented, then discipline and courage were im >ossible, and our defeat rendered certain, lie had more- over a higl) and undying reliance on his own mighty powers, he knew his soldiers thoroughly, and his success proved the extent of his sagacity. From that day forward he was the idol of his troops, they believed him irresistible and lie was prepared for any coming fight. His truth and earnestness was an admirable gem in his constel- lation of qu ilities, and it shone clear and distinct in all his devel- opments, lie never wilfully deceived any person, or lured him on to his support by fraud or deception; he scorned any success that wasachieved without the fullest and clearest exposition of his \ iews an 1 intentions. There was no faltering or phrases of doubt- ful meaning in Ins addresses to Congress or the people, he cut clear through whatever he touched, leaving a wall on either side, so that he who could read might understand ; his public documen a rried with them their own interpretation, lie always found the masses of the people willing to hear the truth, and however unwel- come it might be, what be believed, he said to them. When told by some of his timid supporters that the removal of the deposits m the United States Hank and the issuance of his specie circular, \. tuld break all men who traded on borrowed capital, he sternly re- plied '• that they ought to break," and there left it. When informed in 1837 that the merchants in ISew Orleans were beginning to suspend, and thai ;; storm would soon sweep over the commercial cities, "Let it come," said he, "they will never owe less until they learn by suffi ' :." These were bitter truths, and to the sufferers secured like the injection of the probe by the same hand that bad i licted the wound, but their utterance was not dictated by any want of sympathy or kindn< ss to the distressed, it was a necessity of bis nature. What his mind fully believed his tongue must speak, he would have regarded silence, or commiseration as an untruth to the convictions of his own judgment. lie was fiercely pressed whilst at Washington, by crowds of hungry expectants on his bounty, he was often decieved or be- trayed by them, but never awed or threatened. What be bad, he ittered with a liberal band, and when it was expended be bad the courage to say that the feast was over ana the balance must di perse. 14 His keenest affliction in life was to find himself deserted, or be- trayed 1>} T one on whom he had relied; his own friendship was so strong, his devotion so limitless, that he regarded desertion as the most unpardonable of crimes. He had identified himself so strong!}' with the interests of the country, and his faith in his oath rectitude of intention and action, was so unlimited that he could not recognise the idea of personal friendship as dissevered from political support. "When men abandoned his party, they were untrue to the best interests of the Union, thev had seen the light and loved darkness better. He divorced them from his friendship, once and forever, he could not be reconciled, for his faith in their patriotism was extinguished. His earnestness of purpose was visible in his countenance; it did not evince unhappiness or restlessness, but that state of con- stant emotion and action shewn on the surface of the ocean, when a volcano is at work beneath. Even when in repose, and the smoke of his pipe curling around his lofty head, there was no abatement in the working of his muscles, no saddening or soften- ing of the outlook of his soul. His face constantly reminded me of one of those old sphynexs or statues of the demi-gods of an- tiquity, so massive, so grand, and as if the responsibility of em- pires ever weighed upon their souls. If there was any quality of his mind which overshadowed the rest, it was his chivalry, a high admiration and respect for woman, a lofty disdain of meanness, and a warm sympathy for those who were weak and oppressed. This characteristic is most generally found in the scion of a youthful community, whose population is sparse, people mostly agricultural, and refinement not far ad- vanced. I may remark in passing, that it is even yet more fre- quently exhibited amongst Southern people than it is amidst the oser masses of the North and Mast. With him the feeling was predominant, and assumed, as in the greatest men of the earth, ethina of the sublime and heroic, although in his earlier years wild, reckless, and almost dissolute, he was never accused of licen- tiousness, rudeness or indecorum to the gentler sex: he was never ruled or controlled by woman in his public life, as so many great men have been, yet he was always gentle, kind and tender. lie ivas nol much mov< d with the romance of love, hut never failed in the instinctive respect of a Paladin for the honor of the sex. His 15 kindness to captive enemies, and to the sick ami wounded of his own troops, was proverbial, and often exhibited in times of g ■nt or bitter personal suffering. Ir is well known to those familial- with the history of the times, that after the bloody and overwhelming defeat of the Creeks at Emuchfau, he could almost have exterminated their nation, and made their lands o] i to emigration and settlement, but he listened t i their terms f peace, sheathed his sword, and left the broken tribe again to re- turn to their homes. After the decisive battle of the 8th of Jan- uary, he was fully sensible of the weak and unprotected condition of the remains of the British army. lie might have captured their wounded, seized their camp stores, and defeated the dispirited remnant of their forces; but in tenderness to his own troops, and horror of producing unnecessary slaughter, he steadily declined this ■ ■ struggl '. Amidst all the accusations hurled against him in his day of power, he was never charged with deserting a friend to his ene- -. trampling on a prostrate foe, or meanness in avoiding rc- ►nsibility for his own conduct. His lofty chivalry rescued him from al h imputations. Indeed, the accusation generally made, 1 sometimes justly, was, that he fell into the opposite extreme, was too bold and open, and by his kindness to seeming friends, was often made the victim of treacherous and designing men. We often see in the physical world parasites clinging to the loftiest trees, and covering the colonades of magnificent temples, and so it is in the world of mankind. We may be harmless as doves, but to he as wise as serpents is often beyond the power of earth's m >st gifted children. His lofty courtesy, grace and ease of manners, polished and elegant address were most remarkable, when we reflect on the lim- ited opportunities of his early life, and the community in which he was raise 1 and trained. It excited the wrapt attention of stran- gers, and made him in public ik the observed of all observers." lie never | ass • 1 through a city on a day of festivity without fixing all eyes and ravishing all hearts with his grand and h>IV and it has not been politic since his day for any ren iier or -man to mike a triumphal passage through Tennessee. Our standard of appearance and demeanor is bo high that no person can reach to our Expectations, and we feel disappointed at 16 the show. I remember well being told by one of bis early com- rades, that at a dinner given to bim and President Monroe soon after the close of tbe "war, eitber at Frankfort or Lexington, Kentucky, when tbe clotb -was removed and tbe toasts about to be drank, as was customary at that time, tbe guests retired from tbe table. Mr. Monroe rose first, bowed slightly to bis entertainers, and passed down the table in an easy, shuffling gait, without at- tracting much attention. General Jackson, clotbed in bis regi- mentals, with bis sword by bis side, rose to bis full height, lifted bis hat lightly, and walked out with his erect bearing and military step, leaving tbe company electrified by the manner of his depart- ure, and wondering in silent amaze at the effect produced on them by tbe lofty tread of this "backwoodsman of Tennessee." His polish and high bearing was purely instinctive, not the result of art, but tbe attribute of bis chivalry and courage; he felt that he bad no master on earth, no human being of whom be was afraid, and tbe lion-like feeling was written on his brow and interwoven into his physical organization. He never met an equal in private fight or general battle, and come what might, he feared no evil; his inarch, therefore, through creation was free and lofty. Ther< was a vast difference in tbe appearance of Mr. Webster and him- self, and the feeling produced on the beholder was equally marked' At the first sight of General Jackson tbe spectator was charmed and carried away with rapture; he never could sufficiently admire the loftiness of his crest and tbe grace of bis carriage; he rejoiced that nature bad been so prodigal of her gifts to one of his own species — the feeling was one of gladness and enthusiasm. Not so, however, with Mr. Webster; he, too, was a man of regal port and gigantic proportions, but he resembled some tremendous structure of architectural skill, whose proportions are so just that you do not estimate tbe size and magnificence of tbe work until you gaze long and wondermgly at the details of the building. Tbe idea of its grandeur then first dawns upon you, and perhaps impresses you more profoundly than if seized at the first view. After your attention was once firmly fixed on Mr. Webster, it seemed the longer you gazed the deeper and more entranced your admira- tion. You could not withdraw your attention from that well-knit frame, out-spread brow, deep-set eyes and lofty, settled repose on his countenance that is tbe true emblem of intellectual power. To 17 contrast the two in one sentence, T may say that one wj - ho&imei 'on, the othef of thought. The warm and ardent patriotism of Genera] Jackson was an striking attribute of his c . the legitimal wa irected in early life to the and pro the interests of his native land. There h ag who have felt an equal at t a it to their country, and their ! service. Th id from duty and th< of their judgment; but no public man in our da; su< and limitless devotion to public inten did. As I have intimated before, he so mingled up his oa\ i fare and that of his country as almost to lose the idea of in uality. He often felt, like Louis Le Grand, that he was I Up to the moment of his death, his spirit went out in con travail for its interests. He could talk or think of little when worn down with age and disea oice husky with i and hi bony fingers bloodless and transparent,] superior to disease, and still dwelt with the deepest solicitude i I future of this great Republic. It was not any particular State or section of our Confe I to which he was so deeply attached. No doubt he felt p anxious for Tennessee, but it was as part of the Union of her fate. His memorable toast, "The Federal Union — it mi be pre '." y gave utterance to the predominant feeli his heart, i die labors wei of the General Government, and he died in the full e that no in mi- folly could rend asunder the bon us togeth ■iltcrhood of States. This feeling, in fistic of most all the great state pas eneneed life before or during the the Revolution. They heard with rapture in their ea] the gs of that struggle for Independ battlefields were ^ i 111 white with th es of those who had .' Th./ troops of every State had fought side by side with e; QOn glo ined under the ,,i the Confed . No wonder, therefore, that these men c . a divided all \ • — that they could never ki ut one country, one liag. "The Union one and indivi o 18 motto through life, and the only bow of hope that spanned the horizon of the future. In regard to his qualifications as a statesman, there is even yet a wide difference of opinion entertained by the people of these United States. The ashes have not sufficiently gathered over the fires through which we passed for any calm judgment of mankind yet to lie expressed. Posterity must perform that work. My own views on this subject have been often expressed, and they are still the convictions of my judgment, but it is not my intention to press them upon you for approval. There are, however, some develop- ments of character during his Presidential career, so strongly il- lustrative of his traits of mind, that it would be injustice to omit them in general portraiture. When he entered upon the duties of his great office, he found our Foreign Department embarrassed by tedious negotiations with many of the powers of Europe; they ^\ ere for the settlement of claims due to our citizens for spoliations committed during the wars growing out of the French Revolution. The adjustment of these claims had been delayed from time to time until relief seemed hopeless ; and even when their justice and ount were fully ascertained, payment was still deferred. It be- ne absolutely necessary, then, for us either to show we were in earnest, or abandon the negotiations. This was a crisis well suited to the decision of the President ; he never hesitated a moment as to the course to be pursued. Singling out France as the most powerful and most derilict of those kingly debtors, he cut through all the forms of diplomacy, announced to Louis Phillipe t the debt must be paid, called the attention of Congress to the ending difficulty, and stood prepared to rouse the people of the I lion to the conflict, if his warning was disregarded. The re- sult proved the value of his soldier diplomacy, and showed the imate in which he was held by foreign powers. France paid monev, and this exhibition soon led to the adjustment of other reclamations, that would have been lost but for his timely exhi- bition of courage and earnestness. The veto of the charter of the Bank of the United States, and • • removal of the public deposits to State institutions, was another nal instance of high moral courage. Whether it was right or is not now the question; but he believed it to be right, and so loving, scattered doubts to the winds, took the whole responsi- 19 bility on his own shoulders, and stood almost alone in the In-each. I lis friends wore thunderstruck, and many of them doubting wheth- er to take the leap he had thus made. Just as Achilles, afterthe death of Patrochus, whilst still unarmed, merely by the terror of his shout, drove back the triumphant Trojans and rallied the routed Greeks, so he, almost alone on the platform, checked the embattled hosts of his foes, and gave new courage to the serried ranks of his friends. It is easy to find a man who is brave in battle; thousands will rush up to the cannon's mouth; but it is the last and highest test of fortitude to stand for the right when the multitude seem about to desert you. Then, and then only, is the nerve of the true man fully tested. He passes through fires that separate the dross from the gold, and comes out of the furnace with the impress of im- mortality stamped on his brow. The conduct of the President in the celebrated imbroglio with South Carolina developed a high degree of deliberate judgment and steady firmness, evinced, too, under the most delicate and painful circumstances. He was a native of that State, and he felt that she was oppressed by the unequal working of the tariff. He knew that many of his early friends were enlisted in her support and that all the Southern States warmly sympathised with her oppression. Yet when the day of trial came, and she would not agree to obey the laws of the Union, no claims of friendship or support could withhold him from the performance of his duty. Kindly but firmly he gathered the reins of power in his hands, and was ready when admonition failed, to have used the strongest means in his power to compel obedience. Fortunately for us all it never became necessary to use force. A new adjustment of the tariff, so often recommended by the President, was adopted by Congress, and the storm passed away. But his high moral atti- tude on this occasion can never be forgotten; rising superior to all, the claims of nativity, friendship and sectional feeling, he stood forth as the representative of the whole people, the very incarna- tion of Law and Order. The memorable proclamation issued by him during the contest with South Carolina, forms a curious episode in bis history, and involves the question of his fealty to the principles of his pan y. This State paper, whether considered in reference to its ability, 20 the position of its author, or its effect on the people, has no paral- lel in our annals. As the leader of the Democratic party, he had originally attracted to his support all the leading statesmen of the school of strict constructionists, who formed what was then known as the Republican party. lie had been home into pov. partly on their strength, and so long as the war was carried on i hist Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay, they upheld him with all thi power. Even the personal difficulty between him and M Ihoun, Berrien, Branch and Ingham, did not alienate from him this powerful phalanx. They looked on with silent foreboding during the contest with South Carolina, hut did not leave their ndards. When the proclamation came, however, the whole me was changed ; it fell like a bombshell at their feet; it was written with admirable ability, and its lucid order, clear distinc- tions and logical deductions, would alone have made it dangerous to the doctrine of ultra States Rights. But, supported as it was with the name and popularity of General Jackson, it seemed as if the Resolutions of "08," with all the interpretations plac on them by the Fathers, would be swept down at one fell blow. The reaction was tremendous. The leaders of this school rallied throughout the entire South, and the shrewdest intellects exhausted their powers of argument and logic to repair the breach that had almost cut through the walls of their temple. Their efforts were for the time unavailing. The President rode shear over their bulwarks and stood triumphant, without their aid and despite their opposition; but they saved their consistency, forged new defen for their faith, and were thus enabled to rally in force when this storm had passed away. 1 do not refer to this great schism either to attack or defend the propositions maintained in the proclama- tion; whatever may be the truth or fallacy of the reasoning em- oyed, its vast force and power is undeniable, and the resist; Qgth and energy momentarily exerted through it by the popu- larity of its author, were universally felt and acknowledged. It is proper for me further to say, that he has been unju used in this matter, of abandoning previous opinions, or betra; ing the great trust confided to his hands. He had never commit* If to the maintainance of the principles of these resolutions construed and expounded by the disciples of that school. Mr. Madison, Mr. Rives, Mr. Grundy, and many hundred others of the 21 elite of the old Republican party, did not assent to the interpr - tation then sought to ;d as the Shiboleth of tl y. When ; >'<-t on the long ' General Jackson as a soldier — his ideas of obedie] authority of the General srernment — his firm belief that a majority of the people would :\\w hi — hiaincapa ion — his utter contempt for metaphysical subtleties and his devotion to the Union, it is hardly possible to conceive that he had ever adopted the ultra of those peculiarly known as the States Rights men. He fully un- »d the right of revolution — the resistance of an oppri — d people when all other means of deliverance from tyranny had tied. He learned these views from the lips of his mother, and they were felt and acted upon in the war of the Revolution. But it is hardly possible that he ever balanced in his mind how one State could, without armed resistance, negative an act of Con- gress, paralyze the arm of the Federal Government, and still move on in the sphere of the Union. He did not suppose that the Federal C institution contained any such germ of weakness in 1 ni- zation, or that it ever could accomplish the objects of its creation. if so construed. He was, however, a Republican of the tru faith, lie was thoroughly impressed with the danger of strength- ening the arm of the Federal Government and increasing the central en . He knew the danger of liberal const. of the powers granted in the Constitution, and the of guarding the - of the States. This appreciation is clearly developed in all his messages to Congress, and the leading]). sures of his Administration. He sternly lopped off the immer influence and power given to the Executive by the connection with the Bank of the United States ; he earnestly desired and finally procured a reduction of the tariff to a revenue standard ; h i steadily opposed making the General Government a builder of harbors or an improver of rivers, unless for military or naval us andhe would never consent that money collected by thi Authority I be distributed amongst the Stat and conduct speak trumpet-tongued his devotion I of the States, his strict construction of the powers granted in tl 1 ostitution, and his full membership in the Republican Par The 4th of March, 1837, closed ': : - public 3ervice, he reti with dignity to the Hermitage, to prepare for that final chai 22 which he felt was approaching. The day of his return was to me one of the most memorable of my existence. His old friends and companions determined to give him a public reception: they met together, appointed one of their number to deliver an address, and started to meet him. The young men and boys of our City following their example, made their arrangements and appointed me as their spokesman. We met him in the cedars near Lebanon. The old men were ranged in front, the boys in the rear. He got out of his carriage, listened courteously to the address of Judge Campbell, replied happily, and shook hands with his old associates- He then drew near to us. I stepped forward, spoke a few words of kindness, and wound up by saying, "That the children of his old sol- diers and friends welcomed him home, and were ready to serve under his banner." His frame shook, he bowed down his head and whilst the tears rolled down his aged cheeks, he replied, "I could have stood all but this, it is too much, too much !" The crowd gathered around, and for a few moments there was a general outburst of sympathy and tears. "The sterner spirits that beheld that meeting Were not unmoved! Who are when hearts are greeting '. ; ' : I may live a hundred years, but no future can erase that scene from my memory. It grows greener and greener with advancing years, and will be faithfully treasured to the last. More than eight years rolled away after his retirement from public service before he was summoned to depart. During the whole period, although taking no active part in politics, he was still regarded as the Nestor of his party, giving it the vital ener^ of his name, and his counsel in every emergency of danger. V\ hen his sands of life ran out, he met death with the calmness of one who felt that he had enough of life ; his work was done and the victory secure. He sank as sinks the evening sun when the day is over, leaving a flush of crimson still illumining the horizon from which it has | I. So soon ashis death was announced, it pro- duced a feeling of sadne>s and depression throughout the I mon. His faults were forgotten in the recollection of his long and faithful ss in the cause of human freedom. Men everywhere felt that a great light was extinguished and that his loss was a national calamity. It is difficult to sum up. in conclusion, without danger of 28 repetition, yet the picture would be incomplete without a few more touches. He was aotperfect, and I am not sure but what this fact ad< to his popularity. However much we idealize perfection in our writings, it dors not ensure an entrance into the popular heart, as witness the long list of prophets and martyrs, whose purity of lives could not save them from chains, imprisonment and death. Men love inequalities of character in their idols, as the eye does the alternation of hill and dale in the landscape, lie was proud, irascible and at times overbearing. If he had been horn in the purple he would have been a despot. Before he cami responsibilities to the world, his temper would ha u ruined. and probably in old age he would have been a ruthless and inex- orable tyrant. Fortunately he lived and acted in a land of fri - dom. where he always encountered a steady and continuous oppo- sition, that attempered him to the standard most useful to himself and to mankind. He A\as, however unquestionably a great and in ma - good man. He did not belong to that class of great men who in their closer-, and when almost unknown to their neighbors, have by their discoveries, or invention- changed the labor of mankind, and seizing upon the fulcrum which Archimedes wished for, moved the world in their balance. Nor could he, like Cia.v and Webster, charm admiring multitudes by his eloquence. or persuasion. His great powers lay essentially in council and action : his intuitive perception of what was right, and the courage and energy with which he executed what was ne< to be done. 11 r read many books, and perhaps it was fortunate for him that he did not : they might have enlarged the area of I vision, but would have disturb.',! the force of his convictions, and palsied the rapidity of hi- in. He could never have borne the confinement and drudgery of labored investigation, and suj ficial reading would have done him no good. Men and OH nature the obj " his thought, and his ye - emed to reach their most secret arena, lie never made a mis- take in the selection of a military position, or in his frequent ap- ds to popular judgment for his support. His trembled at the seeming rashness of the bold position he assum and the fearless hardihood with which he accepted the groui I, chosen for him by his adversari c failed in finally 24 iving them off the field and camping on the place thej had ed for his defeat. Friends fell off from him bys 'luring long public career, but they fell like branches from the tr< ly to wither and perish themselves, but not to weaken the parent stem. For years after he retired from public life the onward im- pulse of his action was deeply felt, and he was appealed to at the Hermit;, if he was still the tenant of the "White House. ■ been facetiously remarked since his death that in many of ■ rural districts of Pennsylvania, they still suppose when casting Democratic votes that they are sustaining him. The tis a mere jest, but it has its significance. It evinces that his name like that of Richard Cceur de Leon, is potent after death on the field where he displayed his resistless prowes . Men have frequently I that hi not the author of the public documents that were issued under his name whilst acting as esident. So far as the mere style, or dress in which they ap- 1 is concerned, thisn e. His limited attainments and impatience of composition would induce the belief that the flowing sentences, and logical reasoning which characterized most of these productions were not the emenations of his mind. But that he drafted their outlines, or dictated their substance is unquestionable. They bear the flesh marks of his action, the impress of I < . \ lucid and strong in their statements. Bold, truthful and 1 snunciatary in their langua^ y leave no doubt as to their meaning and no escape from responsibility if they were un- true. They are Jacksonian all over, and if written b; her he must have so studied his great original as to have lost hi itity in transferring the picture on the cam I have said he was proud, but his pride was n<, t offensive, no touch of superciliou . It was the legitimate of conscious powers and innate dignity. lie could permit no rude familiarity, and in later life he had no taste for jests: his pride was his ban*] tinst these an: ie intrusions. li< terly devoid of vanity, and all that litt soul that waits with longing appetite for the applause oi' o When his own • ' approved what he had said or done, it i . a; he did not wail to hear the echo of others. It was strange how much he was often alone amid the crowds by whom he was surrounded; this was shown by the frequent changes of h and disconnected ol ions that now and then crossed the vein of his conversation. This may have been partly a habit contracted t< y on the thread of his thoughts, and give him opportunity for meditation when thronged with visitors, but it was mainly resultant from the pitcn of his mental powers — its ceaseless activity and the number of octaves rolled one on another in its adjustment, H made him ever and anon touch chords in his bosom that sounded far above away a the dull hum of the multitudes around. lie had no me- thodical or logical sequences in his conversation; it consisted of short, pungent, observations asserted with vehemence, hut never spun out with lines of reasoning or data on which they were founded. No doubt the mental action by which he deduced con- clusions was clear, hut the process was too rapid for word We often suppose that assertions made or judgments expressed without being aide to give the ratiocination By which they are ported ar< I and unreliable; but this is a wide mistake. With our limited means of investigation and observation we scarcely ever gather all and sometimes not the most material fac necessary for our judgment, and the fairest outward forms are often hollow and unsubstantial — the beauty of the language ;. the nice adjustment of the mechanism obscures the weakness of the product. Men of strong perception and intuitive sagacity cannot thus weave the web that dazzles the understanding — the flash of their minds are too rapid to mark out their pathway; hut th ■' <■ result is unique and reliable. lie never dreamed that any man could confer honer on him visit or approbation. "When a distinguished stranger visited him he made no atttempt at display; it was utterly indifferent to him whether his guest was profoundly impressed with his beari or conversation. If he had been politely treated, this was all his :ared to ascertain. lie never exacted from those beneath him any tribute to »n, and he would talk I hour with the poorest of his old comrades. His neighbors and associate- felt that he was a man whose path it wa ..•rou.- to cross, and whose enmity it was well to avoid ; but his house and presence were as free and open to all visitors as if it belonged to the people and he was its keeper. Hence it v, although proud and verbeai I'd- 26 ed as an aristocrat; he was the "People's Man," and the soubri- quet of "Old Hickory" by which he is known throughout the world was fondly given by the admiring masses of his countrymen. The impress of genius such as his is not transferred into looks, not painted on canvass or modelled into living forms, must be to some extent ephemeral. It is written mainly on the hearts of contemporaries, and as they pass away the records are lost ; but the shadow is long on the wall — the mist that gathers over his story will give it the charm of romance. Coming ages of Ameri- cans will investigate, with curious interest, the eventful history of the Hero of New Orleans. Every scrap of anecdote and tra- dition will be woven together, to complete his picture. His en- counters with the then long perished tribes of Indians will be magnified and adorned, their paint and their war-hoop will be fancifully described, until his name will have passed into story and song. We have assembled on the anniversary of the greatest of his battles, to place his bust on the banks of the Mississippi. The river itself, with its tributaries, the Tennessee and the Cumber- land, are never-dying monuments of his fame — they witnessed his battles, sweep by his tomb, and ever murmur his glory in the rush of their waters. When he commenced his career, their shores were a wilderness — no vessels plowed their bosoms, and they lay undisturbed as when created. Upon the day that the gallant Carroll and his troops swept by this bluff, on their voyage to New Orleans, scarce a house crowned its summit. Could we roll back the tide of time and catch a momentary sight of their little fleet of boats, what emotions would they awaken ? The men in their rude uniform, with their knapsacks on their backs, travers- ing the decks; their indomitable commander standing solitary at the prow with his eye fixed on the distance, his mind brooding oe r the coming fight. But the picture is gone forever; even the forests and wild animals that looked out on their passage are swept away, and all that remains ; s to erect this monument to the pa N '10 Wm LIBRARY OF CONGRESS II lllll I ll in in "ir in mi 111 011896 507 3 A ,'■'■•' '■''V'.wJBSsf ■■■:.■■ vcw Willi, .. ; :'':; ; siisiiiii