Famous American Statesmen Part 14

"The great mystery is Jesus Christ--the Gospel. What would the condition of any of us be if we had not the hope of immortality?... Thank G.o.d, the Gospel of Jesus Christ brought life and immortality to _light_, _rescued_ it--brought it to _light_." He then began to repeat the Lord's prayer, saying earnestly, "Hold me up, I do not wish to pray with a fainting voice."

He longed to be conscious when death came. At midnight he said, "I still live," his last coherent words. A little after three he ceased to breathe.

He was buried as he had requested to be, "without the least show or ostentation," on October 29, 1852. The coffin was placed upon the lawn, and more than ten thousand persons gazed upon the face of the great statesman. One unknown man, in plain attire, said as he looked upon him, all unconscious that anybody might hear his words, "Daniel Webster, the world without you will seem lonesome." Six of his neighbors bore him to his grave and laid him beside Grace and his children.

When the Civil War came, which Mr. Webster had done all in his power to avert, it took the last child out of his family: Fletcher, a colonel of the Twelfth Ma.s.sachusetts volunteers, fell in the battle of August 29, 1862, near Bull Run.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Signature "Your friend & obe Serv H. Clay"]

HENRY CLAY.

Henry Clay, the "mill-boy of the Slashes," was born April 12, 1777, in Hanover County, Virginia, in a neighborhood called the "Slashes," from its low, marshy ground. The seventh in a family of eight children, says Dr. Calvin Colton, in his "Life and Times of Henry Clay," he came into the home of Rev. John Clay, a true-hearted Baptist minister, poor, but greatly esteemed by all who knew him. Mr. Clay used often to preach out-of-doors to his impecunious flock, who, beside loving him for his spiritual nature, admired his fine voice and manly presence.

When Henry was four years old the father died, leaving the wife to struggle for her daily bread, rich only in the affection which poverty so often intensifies and makes heroic. She was a devoted mother, a person of more than ordinary mind, and extremely patriotic, a quality transmitted to her ill.u.s.trious son.

Says Hon. Carl Schurz, in his valuable Life of Clay, "There is a tradition in the family that, when the dead body [of the father] was still lying in the house, Colonel Tarleton, commanding a cavalry force under Lord Cornwallis, pa.s.sed through Hanover County on a raid, and left a handful of gold and silver on Mrs. Clay's table as a compensation for some property taken or destroyed by his soldiers; but that the spirited woman, as soon as Tarleton was gone, swept the money into her ap.r.o.n and threw it into the fireplace. It would have been in no sense improper, and more prudent, had she kept it, notwithstanding her patriotic indignation."

Anxious that her children be educated, Mrs. Clay sent them to the log school-house in the neighborhood, to learn reading, writing, and arithmetic from Peter Deacon, an Englishman, who seems to have succeeded well in teaching, when sober. The log house was a small structure, with earth floor, no windows, and an entrance which served for continuous ventilation, as there was no door to keep out cold or heat. Henry had nothing of consequence to remember of this school save the marks of a whipping received from Peter Deacon when he was angry.

As soon as school hours were over each day, he had to work to help support the family. Now the bare-footed boy might be seen ploughing; now, mounted on a pony guided by a rope bridle, with a bag of meal thrown across the horse's back, he might be seen going from his home to Mrs. Darricott's mill, on the Pamunky River. The people nicknamed him "The mill-boy of the Slashes," and, years later, when the same bare-footed, mother-loving boy was nominated for the presidency, the term became one of endearment and pride to hundreds of thousands, who knew by experience what a childhood of toil and hards.h.i.+p meant. He became the idol of the poor not less than of the rich, because he could sympathize in their privations, and sympathy is usually born of suffering. Perchance we ought to welcome bitter experiences, for he alone has power who has great sympathy.

After some years of widowhood, Mrs. Clay married Captain Henry Watkins of Richmond, Virginia, and, though she bore him seven children, he did not forget to be a father to the children of her former marriage. When Henry was fourteen, Captain Watkins placed him in Richard Denny's store in Richmond. For a year the boy sold groceries and dry-goods in the retail store, reading in every moment of leisure. His step-father thought rightly that a boy who was so eager to read should have better advantages, and therefore applied to his friend, Colonel Tinsley, for a position in the office of the Clerk of the High Court of Chancery, the clerk being the brother of the colonel.

"There is no vacancy," said the clerk.

"Never mind," said the colonel, "you _must_ take him;" and so he did.

The glad mother cut and made for Henry an ill-fitting suit of gray "figinny" (Virginia) cloth, cotton and silk mixed, and starched his linen to a painful stiffness. When he appeared in the clerk's office he was tall and awkward, and the occupants at the desks could scarcely restrain their mirth at the appearance of the new-comer. Henry was put to the task of copying. The clerks wisely remained quiet, and soon found that the boy was proud, ambitious, quick, willing to work, and superior to themselves in common-sense and the use of language.

Every night when they went in quest of amus.e.m.e.nt young Clay went home to read. It could not have been mere chance which attracted to the studious, bright boy the attention of George Wythe, the Chancellor of the High Court of Chancery. He was a noted and n.o.ble man, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, for ten years teacher of jurisprudence at William and Mary's College, a man so liberal in his views in the days of slavery that he emanc.i.p.ated all his slaves and made provision for their maintenance; the same great man in whose office Thomas Jefferson gained inspiration in his youth.

George Wythe selected Clay for his amanuensis in writing out the decisions of the courts. He soon became greatly attached to the boy of fifteen, directed his reading, first in grammatical studies, and then in legal and historical lines. He read Homer, Plutarch's Lives, and similar great works. The conversation of such a man as Mr. Wythe was to Clay what that of Christopher Gore was to Daniel Webster, or that of Judge Story to Charles Sumner. Generally men who have become great have allied themselves to great men or great principles early in life. When Clay had been four years with the chancellor he naturally decided to become a lawyer. Poverty did not deter him; hard work did not deter him. Those who fear to labor must not take a step on the road to fame.

Clay entered the office of Attorney-General Robert Brooke, a man prominent and able. Here he studied hard for a year, and was admitted to the bar, having gained much legal knowledge in the previous four years.

During this year he mingled with the best society of Richmond, his own intellectual ability, courteous manners, and good cheer making him welcome, not less than the well known friends.h.i.+p of Chancellor Wythe for him. Clay organized a debating society, and the "mill-boy of the Slashes" quite astonished, not only the members but the public as well, by his unusual powers of oratory.

The esteem of Richmond society did not bring money quickly enough to the enterprising young man. His parents had removed to Kentucky, and he decided to go there also, "and grow up with the country." He was now twenty-one, poor, not as thoroughly educated as he could have wished, but determined to succeed, and when one has this determination the battle is half won. That he regretted his lack of early opportunities, a speech made on the floor of Congress years afterward plainly showed. In reply to Hon. John Randolph he said, "The gentleman from Virginia was pleased to say that in one point, at least, he coincided with me in an humble estimate of my grammatical and philological acquisitions. I know my deficiencies. I was born to no proud patrimonial estate. I inherited only infancy, ignorance, and indigence. I feel my defects. But, so far as my situation in early life is concerned, I may, without presumption, say it was more my misfortune than my fault. But, however I regret my want of ability to furnish the gentleman with a better specimen of powers of verbal criticism, I will venture to say it is not greater than the disappointment of this committee as to the strength of his argument."

When Clay arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, he found not the polished society of Richmond, but a genial, warm-hearted, high-spirited race of men and women, who cordially welcomed the young lawyer with his sympathetic manner and distinguished air, the result of an inborn sense of leaders.h.i.+p. Soon after he began to practise law, he joined a debating society, and, with his usual good-sense, did not take an active part until he became acquainted with the members.

One evening, after a subject had been long debated, and the vote was to be taken, Clay, feeling that the matter was not exhausted, rose to speak. At first he was embarra.s.sed, and began, "Gentlemen of the jury!"

The audience laughed. Roused to self-control by this mistake, his words came fast and eloquent, till the people held their breath in amazement.

From that day, Lexington knew that a young man of brilliancy and power had come within her borders.

Nearly fifty years later, he said in the same city, when he retired from public life, "In looking back upon my origin and progress through life, I have great reason to be thankful. My father died in 1781, leaving me an infant of too tender years to retain any recollection of his smiles or endearments. My surviving parent removed to this State in 1792, leaving me, a boy fifteen years of age, in the office of the High Court of Chancery, in the city of Richmond, without guardian, without pecuniary means of support, to steer my course as I might or could. A neglected education was improved by my own irregular exertions, without the benefit of systematic instruction. I studied law princ.i.p.ally in the office of a lamented friend, the late Governor Brooke, then attorney-general of Virginia, and also under the auspices of the venerable and lamented Chancellor Wythe, for whom I had acted as amanuensis. I obtained a license to practise the profession from the judges of the court of appeals of Virginia, and established myself in Lexington in 1797, without patrons, without the favor or countenance of the great or opulent, without the means of paying my weekly board, and in the midst of a bar uncommonly distinguished by eminent members. I remember how comfortable I thought I should be if I could make one hundred pounds, Virginia money, per year, and with what delight I received the first fifteen-s.h.i.+lling fee. My hopes were more than realized. I immediately rushed into a successful and lucrative practice."

His cases at first were largely criminal. His first marked case was that of a woman who, in a moment of pa.s.sion, shot her sister-in-law. Clay could not bear to see a woman hanged, and she heretofore the respected wife of a respected man. He pleaded "temporary delirium," and saved her life.

It is said that no murderer ever suffered the extreme penalty of the law who was defended by Henry Clay. He saved the life of one Willis, accused of an atrocious murder. Meeting the man later, he said, "Ah! Willis, poor fellow, I fear I have saved too many like you who ought to be hanged." When Clay was public prosecutor, he took up the case of a slave, much valued for his intelligence and honor, who, in the absence of his owner, had been unmercifully treated by an overseer. In self-defence the slave killed the overseer with an axe. Clay argued that had the deed been done by a free man it would have been man-slaughter, but by a slave, who should have submitted, it was murder. The colored man was hanged, meeting death heroically. Clay was so overcome by the painful result of his own unfortunate reasoning that he at once resigned his position, and never ceased to be sorry for his connection with the affair.

Sometimes the ending of a case was ludicrous as well as pathetic. Two Germans, father and son, were indicted for murder in the first degree.

The mother and wife were present, and, of course, intensely interested.

When Clay obtained the acquittal of the accused, the old lady rushed through the crowd, flung her arms around the neck of the stylish young attorney, and clung to him so persistently that it was difficult for him to free himself!

He soon began to engage more exclusively in civil suits, especially those growing out of the land laws of Virginia and Kentucky, and quickly acquired a leading position at the bar. He had already married, at twenty-two, Lucretia Hart, eighteen years old, the daughter of Colonel Thomas Hart, a well known and respected citizen of Lexington. She was a woman of practical common-sense, devoted to him, and a tender mother to their eleven children, six daughters and five sons.

As soon as Mr. Clay had earned sufficient money he bought Ashland, an estate of six hundred acres, a mile and a half south-east from Lexington court-house. A s.p.a.cious brick mansion, with flower gardens and groves, made it in time one of the most attractive places in the South. Here, later, Clay entertained Lafayette, Webster, Monroe, and other famous men from Europe and America.

Mr. Clay began his political life when but twenty-two. Kentucky, in 1799, in revising her const.i.tution, considered a project for the gradual abolition of slavery in the State. Clay was an ardent advocate of the measure. He wrote in favor of it in the press, and spoke earnestly in its behalf in public. He, however, received more censure than praise for the position he took, but his conduct was in keeping with his declaration years later: "I had rather be right than be President."

All his life he rejoiced that he had thus early favored the abolition of slavery. He said, thirty years later, "Among the acts of my life which I look back to with most satisfaction is that of my having cooperated with other zealous and intelligent friends to procure the establishment of that system in this State. We were overpowered by numbers, but submitted to the decision of the majority with that grace which the minority in a republic should ever yield to that decision. I have, nevertheless, never ceased, and shall never cease, to regret a decision the effects of which have been to place us in the rear of our neighbors, who are exempt from slavery, in the state of agriculture, the progress of manufactures, the advance of improvements, and the general progress of society."

From this time Clay spoke on all important political questions. Once, when he and George Nicholas had spoken against the alien and sedition laws of the Federalists, so pleased were the Kentuckians that both speakers were placed in a carriage and drawn through the streets, the people shouting applause. Thus foolishly are persons--usually young men--willing to be considered horses through their excitement!

When Clay was twenty-six, so effective had been his eloquence that he was elected to the State Legislature. Who would have prophesied this when he carried meal to Mrs. Darricott's mill! Reading evenings, when other boys roamed the streets, had been an important element in this success; friends.h.i.+p with those older and stronger than himself had given maturity of thought and plan.

When he was thirty he was chosen to the United States Senate, to fill the unexpired term of another. At once, despite his youth, he took an active part in debate, was placed on important committees, and advocated "internal improvements," as he did all the rest of his life, desiring always that America become great and powerful. He was happy in this first experience at the national capital. He wrote home to his wife's father: "My reception in this place has been equal, nay, superior to my expectations. I have experienced the civility and attention of all I was desirous of obtaining. Those who are disposed to flatter me say that I have acquitted myself with great credit in several debates in the Senate. But, after all I have seen, Kentucky is still my favorite country. There amidst my dear family I shall find happiness in a degree to be met with nowhere else."

As soon as Clay was home again, Kentucky sent him to her State Legislature, where he was elected speaker. Already the conflicts between England and France under Napoleon had seriously affected our commerce by the unjust decrees of both nations. Mr. Clay strongly denounced the Orders in Council of the British, and praised Jefferson for the embargo.

He urged, also, partly as a retaliatory measure, and partly as a measure of self-protection, that the members of the Legislature wear only such clothes as were made by our own manufacturers. Humphrey Marshall, a strong Federalist, and a man of great ability, denounced this resolution as the work of a demagogue. The result was a duel, in which, after Clay and Marshall were both slightly wounded, the seconds prevented further bloodshed. Once before this Clay had accepted a challenge, and the duel was prevented only by the interference of friends. Had death resulted at either time, America would have missed from her record one of the brightest and fairest names in her history.

When Clay was thirty-three he was again sent to the Senate of the United States, to fill an unexpired term of two years. At the end of that time Kentucky was too proud of him to allow his returning to private life. He was therefore elected to the House of Representatives, and took his seat November 4, 1811. He was at once chosen speaker, an honor conferred for seven terms, fourteen years.

"Henry Clay stands," says Carl Schurz, "in the traditions of the House of Representatives as the greatest of its speakers. His perfect mastery of parliamentary law, his quickness of decision in applying it, his unfailing presence of mind and power of command in moments of excitement and confusion, the courteous dignity of his bearing, are remembered as unequalled by any one of those who had preceded or who have followed him."

Here in the excitement of debate he was happy. He could speak at will against the British, who had seized more than nine hundred American s.h.i.+ps, and the French more than five hundred and fifty. When several thousand Americans had been impressed as British seamen, the hot blood of the Kentuckian demanded war. He said in Congress, "We are called upon to submit to debas.e.m.e.nt, dishonor, and disgrace; to bow the neck to royal insolence, as a course of preparation for manly resistance to Gallic invasion! What nation, what individual was ever taught in the schools of ignominious submission these patriotic lessons of freedom and independence?... An honorable peace is attainable only by an efficient war. My plan would be to call out the ample resources of the country, give them a judicious direction, prosecute the war with the utmost vigor, strike wherever we can reach the enemy, at sea or on land, and negotiate the terms of a peace at Quebec or at Halifax. We are told that England is a proud and lofty nation, which, disdaining to wait for danger, meets it half way. Haughty as she is, we once triumphed over her, and, if we do not listen to the counsels of timidity and despair, we shall again prevail. In such a cause, with the aid of Providence, we must come out crowned with success; but if we fail, let us fail like men, lash ourselves to our gallant tars, and expire together in one common struggle, fighting for FREE TRADE AND SEAMEN'S RIGHTS."

The War of 1812 came, even though New England strongly opposed it. The country was poorly prepared for a great contest by land or by sea, but Clay's enthusiasm seemed equal to a dozen armies. He cheered every regiment by his hope and his patriotism. When defeats came at Detroit and in Canada, Josiah Quincy of Ma.s.sachusetts, leader of the Federalists, said, "Those must be very young politicians, their pin-feathers not yet grown, and, however they may flutter on this floor, they are not fledged for any high or distant flight, who think that threats and appealing to fear are the ways of producing any disposition to negotiate in Great Britain, or in any other nation which understands what it owes to its own safety and honor."

Clay answered in a two-days speech that was never forgotten. He scourged the Federalists with stinging words: "Sir, gentlemen appear to me to forget that they stand on American soil; that they are not in the British House of Commons, but in the chamber of the House of Representatives of the United States; that we have nothing to do with the affairs of Europe, the part.i.tion of territory and sovereignty there, except so far as these things affect the interests of our own country.

Gentlemen transform themselves into the Burkes, Chathams, and Pitts of another country, and forgetting, from honest zeal, the interests of America, engage with European sensibility in the discussion of European interests.... I have no fears of French or English subjugation. If we are united we are too powerful for the mightiest nation in Europe, or all Europe combined. If we are separated and torn asunder, we shall become an easy prey to the weakest of them. In the latter dreadful contingency, our country will not be worth preserving.

"The war was declared because Great Britain arrogated to herself the pretension of regulating our foreign trade, under the delusive name of retaliatory orders in council--a pretension by which she undertook to proclaim to American enterprise, 'Thus far shalt thou go, and no further'--orders which she refused to revoke, after the alleged cause of their enactment had ceased; because she persisted in the practice of impressing American seamen; because she had instigated the Indians to commit hostilities against us; and because she refused indemnity for her past injuries upon our commerce. I throw out of the question other wrongs. The war in fact was announced on our part to meet the war which she was waging on her part."

The speech electrified the country. The army was increased, the nation encouraged, and the war carried to a successful issue. Such a power had Clay become that Madison talked of making him commander-in-chief of the army, but Gallatin dissuaded him, saying, "What shall we do without Clay in Congress?"

When the war was nearing its end--before Jackson had fought his famous battle at New Orleans--and a treaty of peace was to be effected, the President appointed five commissioners to confer with the British government: John Quincy Adams, Clay, Bayard, Jonathan Russell, Minister to Sweden, and Albert Gallatin.

They reached Ghent, in the Netherlands, July 6, 1814, a company of earnest men, not always in accord, but desirous of accomplis.h.i.+ng the most possible for America. Adams was able, courageous, irritable, and sometimes domineering; Clay, impetuous, spirited, genial, making friends of the British commissioners as they played at whist--he never allowed cards to come into his home at Ashland; Gallatin, discreet, a peace-maker, and dignified counsellor.

For five months the commissioners argued, waited to see if their respective countries would accede to the terms proposed, and finally settled an honorable peace. Then Clay, Adams, and Gallatin spent three months in London negotiating a treaty of commerce. Clay had meantime heard of the battle of New Orleans, and said, "Now I can go to England without mortification." In Paris he met Madame de Stael. "I have been in England," said she, "and have been battling for your cause there. They were so much enraged against you that at one time they thought seriously of sending the Duke of Wellington to lead their armies against you."

"I am very sorry," replied Clay, "that they did not send the duke."