[ON this occasion, a short time previous to the presidential
election, an immense assemblage of whigs, called ‘the
southwestern convention,’ met at Nashville, Tennessee, to
take measures to promote the election of General Harrison.
Mr. Clay accepted an urgent invitation to be present, and
address the convention, the substance of which address is
subjoined, relating to the political topics of the day, and
some reminiscences of the past; alluding, also, to his political
differences with general Jackson, whose residence was near
Nashville.]
MR. CLAY was called for, with an enthusiasm which seemed to have no
bounds; and, when he came forward, with those characteristic smiles
playing all over his remarkable countenance, the air was rent with nine
such cheers as it has seldom fallen to the lot of any man to receive.
When those had subsided, he commenced somewhat as follows.
Mr. President, gentlemen of the convention, ladies, friends, and
fellow-citizens. This day may be likened to the glorious and genial
sun that now shines upon us. Clouds are occasionally flitting over it,
and obscuring, for the moment, its beaming rays, but truth will break
through the mist, and shine the brighter for having been for a time
obscured. By November next, the dark clouds which have been lowering
above the political horizon, will all disappear. I congratulate this
vast multitude upon the glorious prospect before us.
This, said Mr. Clay, is a convention of the people, and he asked if
he might not, without arrogance, revert to the cause of his appearing
before them. During the arduous contest in which he had been long
engaged, occasional clouds lowered about him, but, conscious of the
correctness of his motives, of the purity of his intentions, he had
stood out from the beginning dauntless, erect, and undismayed.
Had he visited Tennessee during the campaign to which he had alluded,
he would have disabused the public mind in relation to the charges
which were made against him. In giving his vote, in 1825, for Mr. John
Quincy Adams, he obeyed the wishes of his constituents. It had been
charged that he did not do this, but the charge was unfounded. It was
true that the legislature of Kentucky at the time, made a request that
he should give a different vote; but that body, in making the request,
went beyond its province; it had no right to interfere in the matter;
the right belonged exclusively to his constituents, in the counties
of Fayette, Woodford, and Jessamine. Each of these counties sustained,
approved, and ratified his conduct at the time, and neither of them
has ever, to this day, revoked or annulled that approbation. With
respect to his motives, for the course he pursued, he had nothing,
on this occasion, to offer. Those motives were known to, and would be
adjudged by, his God. He never doubted that the day would come when
justice would be done him. Yes, he never doubted that brave, generous,
patriotic Tennesseans would be among the first to do him justice. This,
he felt they had done. The welcome with which he was greeted on his
arrival; the procession, the banners, and last, though not least, the
many bright eyes that beamed, and the handkerchiefs that waved on the
occasion, all spoke to him a language of true and heartfelt welcome,
as grateful as it was flattering to his feelings.
It was true, that he had some reluctance, some misgivings, about
making this visit at this time, which grew out of a supposition that
his motives might be misconstrued. The relations which had for a
longtime existed between himself and the illustrious captain in this
neighborhood, were well understood. He feared, if he accepted the
invitation to make the visit now, that it might be thought by some
that his motives were less patriotic than sinister or selfish. But he
assured that great assemblage, that towards that illustrious individual,
their fellow-citizen and friend, he cherished, he possessed no unkind
feelings. He was a great chieftain; he had fought well and bravely for
his country; he hoped he would live long, and enjoy much happiness, and,
when he departed from this fleeting vale of tears, that he would enter
into the abode of the just, made perfect.
Mr. Clay said, that, in addressing an assembly of so many thousands
as he now saw around him, when so many topics were crowding into the
mind, he was at a loss to select a theme. Shall I, he asked, dwell upon
a ruined currency, upon the prostration of business, the stagnation
of trade, and the destruction of commerce? Or shall I speak of the
wasteful extravagance of the present powers that be?
A paper had just been put into his hands, which he had never seen
before, that represented, in the form of a pyramid, the expenditures
of the last three administrations. He held it up to view, and explained
its meaning. He read some of the items of expenditure, under the
present administration, which is so characteristically economical,
and contrasted them with expenditures, under the same heads, made
by the administration of John Quincy Adams, an administration whose
extravagance so shocked the sensibilities of the whole nation!
But Mr. Clay said, this was not one of the themes he had selected to
address the audience upon. He had thought to refer to, among other
things, some of the very extraordinary doctrines now advanced, by
those who profess to entertain the greatest veneration and regard
for the state rights doctrines. In this connection, he brought up the
ridiculous manœuvre, in the United States senate, at the late session,
on the subject of the debts of the several states. A long report was
made, that the general government would not assume the payment of
those debts――a thing that nobody ever dreamed of! This report, of
which an extraordinary number of copies was ordered to be printed
for circulation, was drawn up, said Mr. Clay, by your fellow-citizen,
and an old acquaintance of mine, (honorable Felix Grundy.) And one of
the pleasures which I promised myself, in making this visit to your
beautiful town, was to meet and talk over matters with him. But, on
my inquiry for him, I learned that he was in East Tennessee, making
speeches in favor of the present administration! Ah, said I, at his old
occupation, defending criminals! (The manner in which this was said,
surpasses description. Those only who saw it, or who are acquainted
with Mr. Clay’s gesticulations and style of speaking, can imagine any
thing approaching the reality.)
But there is this difference, said Mr. Clay, between my distinguished
friend’s present and past defence of criminals. He is now defending
great criminals of state, not before a carefully packed jury, but
before the free, enlightened, virtuous, and patriotic people; and,
therefore, we may well hope that his present defence will not be
attended with his hitherto usual success!
Mr. Clay referred to Mr. Van Buren’s recommendation, in 1837, of a
bankrupt law, bearing exclusively upon state banks, as an evidence of
his regard for state rights, and mirrored forth the evils of such a law.
He reverted to the progress of the sub-treasury bill, through its
several stages, and descanted upon the manner in which it was finally
got first through the senate, and then the house, with great ability
and eloquence; in which connection he gave a clear and succinct account
of the manner, and for what cause, New Jersey was so disgracefully
disfranchised.
Mr. Clay said, the party in power profess to be democrats _par
excellence_! Among all their usurpations, he knew of none more absurd
than the usurpation of this name. He professed himself to be a true
democrat. He learned his democracy in the school of ’98 and ’99. It
was very different, he confessed, from the democracy taught now-a-days,
in high places. It did not say, in the language of the motto upon the
Bedford county banner, which he just read, ‘the people expect too much
from the government;’ ‘let the government take care of itself, and the
people of themselves.’ No! the democracy that he had learned was the
reverse of this language of the present democratic president. But the
new democracy does not stop here. It asks for allegiance to the powers
that be. The democracy of Jefferson asked a candidate for office if he
was capable, and honest, and would support the constitution. But the
new democracy asks very different questions. It asks, how many votes
can you bring to the polls? What’s your influence? Are you boisterous
partisans? It also holds out inducements or bribes, which Jefferson’s
democracy did not. It says, if you labor in my cause, and the people
reject you, I will take care that your reward shall be certain. He
instanced the appointment of Mr. Grundy, and then referred to the
appointment of John M. Niles, as postmaster general, who, not four
months ago, was rejected by the people by four thousand five hundred
votes. To be thus beaten, was a sure passport to an executive office.
By the bye, he said, the office conferred upon Mr. Niles was not a
very enviable one, for he had to take a seat previously occupied by
a creature, than whom a more despicable creeping reptile could not be
named. His fellow-citizens, he presumed, would know to whom he alluded.
Mr. Clay here dwelt for some minutes upon the immoral tendency to
which such a course of administration as he had been alluding to would
lead. But he trusted it would be checked――that the great physician, the
ballot-box, was near at hand, and that by November, the disease would
be met by an effective and most salutary remedy. When before had such a
state of things as now exists been known? When before such a disregard
of obligations? When before have sixty-four out of sixty-seven land
officers proved defaulters? When before have defaulters not only been
retained in office after their defalcations were known, but absolutely
reappointed? He referred to the appointment of Mr. Livingston, as
secretary of state, at a time when he was a defaulter, but said, he
presumed the president did not reflect sufficiently upon the tendency
such an appointment would have. He referred to the Moore and Letcher
case, and to the appointment of Hocker, to the best office in the
country, for his services in that dark transaction. He had heard that
Hocker had since proved a defaulter.
Mr. Clay said, he would like to address himself directly to the
democrats within the sound of his voice. He wished to address them,
not as enemies, but as brothers, as men equally patriotic, and equally
devoted with the whigs, to the best interests of the country. We differ,
said he, but upon what subject do men not differ? Have all your hopes
been realized, in regard to the administration of the government? Have
the pledges that were made you been fulfilled? Take, for example, the
one term for the presidency. Did not the great captain promise you that
one term was enough for a president to serve? Was it carried out? How
was the promise, not to appoint members of congress to office, carried
out? How was the promise, to reduce the extravagant expenditures
fulfilled? What principle was carried out? what promise kept? what
pledge redeemed? Is there an administration man in this vast assemblage
that will answer, shouted the Kentucky orator, in the loudest tones of
his musical voice?
Mr. Clay said, he had called the present a vast assemblage, and he
would take that occasion to declare, that there were more people, and
more banners there, than there were at the great Baltimore convention.
And why are there so many people here, coming together from almost
every state in the union?
Mr. Clay said, he claimed to be a democrat, in the true sense of the
word――a democrat ready to stand by or die for his country. He referred
to the great contest now going on, and asked that nothing should be
done to the injury of our opponents. All, he said, were interested
alike; all were on board the great ship of state; all were alike
interested in the success of the voyage. But there were exceptions to
the general rule; there were beings in the lead of the party who could
not be hung too high――beings who set all the baser passions of men at
work, and labor constantly and solely for no good. There was another
class; the boisterous office-holders, the prætorian band, the palace
slaves, he was about to say, of Martin Van Buren! But then, to call
such a man a king over such a people as this great concourse! oh, he
would not so insult them!
Mr. Clay, in conclusion, addressed the Tennesseans particularly. He
reverted to the position of Tennessee and Kentucky. They stood side by
side; their sons fought side by side at New Orleans. Kentuckians and
Tennesseans now fight another and a different kind of battle. But they
are fighting now, as then, a band of mercenaries, the cohorts of power.
They are fighting a band of office-holders, who call general Harrison a
coward, an imbecile, an old woman!
Yes, general Harrison is a coward! but he fought more battles than any
other general during the last war, and never sustained a defeat! He
is no statesman! and yet he has filled more civil offices of trust and
importance than almost any other man in the union!
[A man in the crowd here cried out, ‘tell us of Van Buren’s
battles!’]
Ah! said Mr. Clay, I will have to use my colleague’s language, and tell
you of Mr. Van Buren’s _three_ great battles! He says that he fought
general commerce, and conquered him; that he fought general currency,
and conquered him; and that, with his Cuba allies, he fought the
Seminoles, and got conquered!
Mr. Clay referred, with great good humor, to the seventeen thousand
whig majority of Kentucky, and asked, if generous, chivalric Tennessee
would not enter the lists of competition with her? He doubted not she
would make a gallant effort to not only run up alongside, but to come
out ahead of her!