FIVE YEARS IN TEXAS;
OR,
WHAT YOU DID NOT HEAR DURING THE WAR
FROM
JANUARY 1861 TO JANUARY 1866.
A NARRATIVE OF HIS
Travels, Experiences, and Observations,
IN
TEXAS AND MEXICO.
BY
THOMAS NORTH.
CINCINNATI:
ELM STREET PRINTING CO., 176 & 178 ELM STREET.
1871.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871,
BY THOMAS NORTH,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress.
PREFACE.
To conceive the idea, and execute the purpose of making a book, is,
to a modest man, not a little monstrous; and yet, modest or immodest,
monstrous or not, the author makes his best bow to the reader, and
holds himself subject to criticism for not making it better. But many
are running to and fro in the earth, and knowledge is being increased;
for the runners, are they not making books for the million? And having
run somewhat with the runners ourself, we might as well tell our story
of travel too. The story is not of sailing round the world with Captain
Cook, or any other Sea King. Nor is it one of Orient--of Oriental
climes or times, or of its discords or chimes, but it is one that
pertains to stirring events, in stirring times, in the most stirring of
all stirring climes--America, our own sweet land of liberty.
The Author, in justice to himself, will state that in preparing this
book for publication, he has been sore pressed for time to bring it out
with that degree of merit, literary and otherwise, that he would have
it possess.
The Eulogium on Hon. Martin P. Sweet, which we offer as our prelude, is
at once an act of friendship and pleasure, as well as of justice, to
one of such brilliant mental endowments and genial qualities of heart,
and we believe our readers will so regard it. Besides, while some may
not fully appreciate the relevancy of the Eulogy to the residue of
the book, yet, for himself, the Author sees and feels a species of
mystical connection between Mr. S. and himself in all his travels and
experiences in Texas and Mexico. And so much the more because of his
earnest prophetic endeavor to dissuade him from going there.
With this brief preface, we submit this volume to the public eye,
hoping to please and interest, promising that we will do better next
time, if we ever publish another book.
CONTENTS.
PAGE.
CHAPTER I.
Hon. Martin P. Sweet--Interview with and Eulogium 9-29
CHAPTER II.
Trip to Galveston--Memphis Gentleman 30-40
CHAPTER III.
Social Types--Henry Clay--General Polk 41-44
CHAPTER IV.
Voyage Down the Mississippi--Poem on "Varieties'
Theater." 45-50
CHAPTER V.
New Orleans--Description of--Ocean View of Galveston--The
Island, How Formed--Commercial Importance of, etc. 51-64
CHAPTER VI.
Effect of Climate on Tastes, Appetites and
Temper--The Enraged Clergyman--"Renegade
Americans"--Morals and Religion--Reign of
Terror--The Robbery 65-70
CHAPTER VII.
Texas Oath of Office--"Code of Honor"--Dueling
Spirit--Judge Lynch and Horse Thieves--The
Doctor of Divinity--Conscript Law--"Like
People, Like Priest" 71-75
CHAPTER VIII.
The Doctor's Prize Ring Illustration--The Wealthy
Planteress--The Doctor's Dueling Card--Colloquy
with the Planteress--The Doctor and
the Judge--He Challenges the Latter--Shooting
on Sight--Masonic Reconciliation 76-85
CHAPTER IX.
Babel of Tongues--Sam Houston--He Comes to
Galveston to make a Speech--A Committee Wait
on Him--He Makes a Speech--His Appearance
On the Balcony of Tremont Hotel 86-91
CHAPTER X.
Houston's Speech--Col. Moore's Regiment--General
Houston's Review of it--Williamson S. Oldham
and Judge Campbell 92-98
CHAPTER XI.
Arguments on Secession in Outline 99-101
CHAPTER XII.
Texas Never Invaded--Feeling of the People--Galveston
Retaken--General Sherman and Lt. Sherman--Solemn
Scene Between Them--General Magruder and General Hebert 102-113
CHAPTER XIII.
The Federal Fleet--"Nicaragua Smith." 114-117
CHAPTER XIV.
The Captured Letter--Mrs. E.'s exile--Her Companions--Lewis
and Emma--Lieutenant H. 118-154
CHAPTER XV.
Lawlessness and Crime--Doctor O. and the Overseer--Doctor
F. Assassinated--Capt. Carr and Mr. Smythe 155-161
CHAPTER XVI.
The Two Days' Meeting--Power of Prejudice--The
Feast at Our House--Brigadier General M.
and Staff 162-166
CHAPTER XVII.
The Conscript Law--How the Writer Beat It, and
How at last It Beat Him--Trip to Mexico--Matamoras--General
Mejia--The Situation--Rev. Dr. L. and the
Writer--Petitioning Maximilian--Preaching in
Varieties' Theater 167-172
CHAPTER XVIII.
More about Texas--Plot against the Writer's Life--Pretext
for the Attack--Prompt Action of Deputy
Sheriff Hardin--Fear of Secret Assassination--Advised
to Leave the Place--Went to San
Antonio--Thence to Mexico--Lost in the Wilds
of Western Texas--How We Got Out--The Two
Mexican Rancheros--Gen. F. J. H.--Extradition
of Don Manuel G. Rejon--Cortinas--The
Writer's Family Flooded Out in San Antonio--They
Come to Him in Matamoras 173-182
CHAPTER XIX.
Lee's Surrender--Effect on Texas Soldiers--Trip
to New Orleans--Family Ship North--Writer's
Return to Texas--He Visits Brenham, Austin,
San Antonio and New Braunfels--Rev. Josiah
Whipple--The Old Woman in Austin What
Wouldn't Hear the Blue Coat Preach 183-190
CHAPTER XX.
Governor Hamilton--The Thirty Neros--The Old
German and His Wife--Fight with Indians--A
Native Texan's Opinion of Germans 191-195
CHAPTER XXI.
Texas--Topography, Climate and Products of 196-210
OLD LETTERS.--POEM.
Canto I. 213-222
Canto II. 223-225
Canto III. 226-231
FIVE YEARS IN TEXAS.
CHAPTER I.
HON. MARTIN P. SWEET--INTERVIEW WITH, AND EULOGIUM.
In the month of November, 1860, shortly after the election of Abraham
Lincoln to the Presidency of the United States, Hon. Martin P. Sweet
came into the Circuit Clerk's Office of Stephenson County, Illinois,
where the writer was acting as deputy to the regular Clerk--Mr. L. W.
Guiteau--and addressing himself to us, said:
"Mr. N., are you busy?"
"Not very," we replied.
"If you can spare the time I would be glad of an interview with you at
my office."
Laying aside the pen we went with him, and after being seated together
in his private room adjoining the main office, he remarked:
"Mr. N., I understand you are thinking of going to Texas."
"I am not only _thinking_ of it, Mr. S., but the purpose is already
fixed to go."
"I regret to hear it," he said.
"Why so, Mr. S.?"
For a few moments he was silent, his eye scanning the figures of the
beautiful carpet upon the floor; then calmly raising his face and
fixing his full eyes, that looked nigh unto bursting, upon us--such was
their intense earnestness, indicating the struggle of soul within, the
play of emotions, honest and transparent; and holding the gaze upon
us, while as yet no word from his eloquent lips had broken or changed
the potent spell thereof--suddenly those eyes suffused with tears
incontinent, the requisite power of speech had come, and he replied
fervently:
"You ask why I regret to hear it; I will tell you why. We are friends,
and have been friends for many a long year, and that, too, on terms of
more than ordinary meaning, and sacred beyond the degrees of worldly
friendship. The tie that hath bound us, you know, has been that of a
deep and ardent Christian faith, which, though seeming to part asunder
at times under the severe strain of mutual fault and criticism,
producing the while outward non-affiliation, yet the substratum of
unity is there, and its brotherly elasticity is too great to be snapped
in twain. And however far apart the forces of the world may swing us,
on the pendulum of time, still the return movement is certain and sure."
Thus spake a friend. And then, laying his hand upon his heart, he
proceeded to say:
"Mr. N., I have loved you"--and pressing his heart said--"I have
loved you _here_. It was years agone we learned to love each other as
brother-friends, in earnest truth. You are still in my heart, and I
believe I am in yours. You know my motto--'once in grace, always in
grace'--once in friendship, always in friendship--once in love, always
in love. We would not change it if we could, and could not if we would.
I have never turned you out of my heart, never can, and never shall. My
heart knows and bows to no destroying vicissitudes. Our friendship has
no mere worldly cast, breathing the common atmosphere of self-interest,
and putting on the offensive airs of self-righteousness; nay, it
endures while witnessing the death-struggles of all such moral and
social littleness in ourselves and in others.
"And now," continued he, "from these considerations, permit me to
state further why I regret your contemplated move. My regard for the
personal welfare of yourself and yours is too warm and deep, not to
regret seeing you float to the Southern extreme of American society at
the present juncture of our National affairs.
"The loud blast of secession is already heard in the South, and I
am impressed that the Southern sisterhood of States will unite in
a desperate effort to dissolve this Union and destroy the General
Government. And that no renewal of compromise effort can save the
tremendous shock of war, between the North and South, that portends in
the political heavens. And I now feel bound to say to you, though in
confidence, what for wise political reasons I have not dared to utter
to any political friend, that I _more_ than _fear_--_I believe_--this
Government is going to ruin! Presaging wrath is borne on every breeze,
and tells of the coming woe!
"To me, this is no chimera of an overwrought imagination, but the
serious, sober tone of destiny that comes thundering along the pathway
of nations, and having shattered many nations, and buried them in the
dust of the sepulchral past, no better fate may await ours. God save
us! if that be possible; but it seems otherwise to me.
"And, friend N., if the half of my forebodings shall prove historic
verity not far in the future, which side the division line do you
wish to be found? To ask the question, I know is to answer it. You
and I both hail from adjoining counties in the old Empire State as
our fatherland, and are now citizens of the Empire State of the great
Northwest. The one gave us birth, and nursed us to the years of early
manhood. The other is our adopted State, where we have reached the
strength and vigor of intellectual manhood. There we knew and enjoyed
the blessings of freedom--freedom of opinion and of speech. Here the
same, and not one degree north or south of the same latitude."
Here our brilliant friend drew a picture of suffering, in prospect for
ourself and family, so vivid as to rival St. Paul's descriptive list
of his own sufferings, by land and by sea, among false brethren, among
Greeks and barbarians, in bonds and imprisonment, which awaited him in
his journeyings from city to city.
In that description the writer saw himself served with a notice from
the "Ticket of Leave Man," to quit the country in a given number of
days, or hours, and in default thereof to abide the consequences--such
as a free passage at sea, bound to a plank, or headed up in a barrel,
companion and food for friendly sharks, or other monsters of the
dark blue deep; or left, by the mob infuriate, "Looking up a black
jack," as the chilling parlance of the country expresses it. And he
saw the secret assassins in the forest nightshade, or in some dark
and unfrequented nook, plotting against his life--saw the dagger
gleaming in the dark, heard the death-dealing cartridge chambered
in the revolver or derringer, the trial click of the hammer, and
the adjustment of the cap. And then saw them emerge from their dark
hiding place, and take position near the pathway of the unsuspecting
passer-by, to shoot or strike him down, just when he thinks no danger
nigh. But failing here, because their victim reaches home by a course
not in their plans, he saw the human bloodhounds lurking and skulking
about his house, at the midnight hour, seeking quiet entrance to his
chamber of rest. They enter, and there find the doomed one at rest with
the loved ones, in the unconscious bliss of sleep, while the moonlight
shimmers from the light breeze-waving trees, through the open lattice,
in fantastic shapes of light and shade, upon the chamber wall, just
o'er their pillowed heads, so soft and so silvery. The steel is in the
assassin's uplifted hand. Witnessing angels are moved at the fearful
sight, and cry out--"Stay thy hand! and hurt not the man!" but lo,
'tis not the hand of an Abraham that holds the deadly knife on high,
but of the cruel assassin, whose soul communes not with angels of
good, but is in league with angels of evil, who in cooler mood might
relent the fiendish order to strike--if that were possible with evil
demons--but being now at the mighty on-rush, like lightning the fatal
blow descends; the warm blood flows, a life ebbs away, and the cowardly
wretches retreat under cover of night, followed by the wails of the
widowed wife and her helpless children, bereft in a moment of husband
and father!
Thus did Mr. S. picture things on the Southern sky, in vividness of
eloquent speech, which the writer rarely ever heard equaled--not more
than half a dozen times in his life, at most. His soul caught the true
image, and his language made it seem to one present and real.
As compared with other men he excelled in most of the qualities that
constitute a successful public speaker, or private conversationalist.
But comparing him with himself, it is difficult to determine in which
he was the more excellent. His nature was spontaneous to an exceeding
degree in every capacity and relation of life. The absorbing and
evolving power of his intuitions was so remarkable that a book, heavy
or light in tone of thought, was mastered by him as a mere breakfast
spell. Memory was ever a faithful sentinel at his mental door, and
every fresh thought passing its threshold was imprisoned there for
life. In the more rigid sense of the schools he was never, perhaps, a
systematic student; which might be urged by some as a fault, and the
conclusion is logical on general principles. But he was a student,
nevertheless, after nature's own style. He was nature's own genius,
and could not be confined to the plots and plans of books--not even
the books of the law. His soul was too thirsty to be slaked with legal
waters. It looked up to the mountains for irrigation from the gospel
waters of the Spirit. Once on a time a young chip of the law challenged
him on his inattention to the books, to whom he replied: "There are two
classes of lawyers: those who make the books, or furnish the material
for them, and are lawyers without them, and those who study the books
to be lawyers at all."
As a jury advocate, as a platform speaker, as a popular orator on
political and other occasions, it is conceded by those who knew him
best, professionally and otherwise, that he never had his superior, and
few if any equals in the whole Northwest. Nature had endowed him with
a voice of surpassing compass and richness for oratorical purposes,
and had breathed into his great soul a spontaneity of warm impulse and
thought, to back and animate it, so that, whether he spoke in tenor or
baritone, or deep basso, one always heard a soul-voice from the speaker.
His whole character, from top to bottom, was stratified with moral
simplicity and a broad catholicity of temperament, which, under the
guidance of his comprehensive intellect, brought him into rapport with
truth wherever found. He thought, and felt, and spoke, in veins of
enthusiasm, and hence was rather impatient of conservative restraint.
He always entered his appearance against injustice and wrong, in
radical pioneer style, with a directness of purpose that would see the
beginning of the end at once. He never impressed one with the idea,
in his public efforts before courts, or juries, or popular audiences,
that he sought to produce sensational effects; nay, he was always
too full of his subject for that--so full that some, in envy, or
jealousy, or ignorance, might write him down a wild enthusiast, and
at times a fanatic, because he believed the lions in the way, where
most men feared to travel, could be slain and put aside; but we shall
not so write him, for we know him better, and have a better chart of
his character. From long personal intimacy with him we understand
with what generous prodigality nature lavished upon him powers _sui
generis_, and beyond those of most men, and above appreciation by the
green-eyed few. If he were not perfect, as the religious legalist
counts perfection, and had any marked faults, as all great men are
said to have, the intelligent reader will not fail to appreciate the
point when we say that peculiar faults, either secret or overt, seem
quite inseparable from the characters of geniuses; and more, these very
faults serve as foils of contrast to set off to greater advantage and
glory their superior excellences, while teaching us not to fall down
and worship them as gods, for they are but men in common with other men.
Mr. S. stood aloof the major portion of his life from the technical
distinctions and peculiar customs of the religious sects, and the more
strenuous and imposing they were the less real fellowship from him. He
thought he saw in the tone of creeds, old or new, as managed by human
fallibility, the old "Yoke of bondage"--the imposition of tyranny--the
reproduction of the old spirit of Judaism, in a display of "the
commandments of men." And yet, in default of the grander development of
the coming kingdom--the one organic headship of Christ, and the one
all-pervading, and all-comprehending unity, under that headship--he
recognized the preliminary usefulness of the sects, in keeping mankind
beating the bush for religious truth, and making endeavors toward pure
living. Hence his motto was: "The seed of the true church is scattered
among all the sects, and will be gathered into one in the fullness of
time."
From this standpoint he could never regard the distinctive features
or claims of any existing sect as paramount to those of another, or
as promising to transcend all others, absorbing them into a visible,
vital oneness, in the final outcome of the conflict between modern
sects. But believing, as a matter of the deepest faith with him, and
the most unquestionably certain teaching of Christ, and what appeared
to most people Utopian, that the true church on earth was intended
by its divine Founder to be like its counterpart in heaven--a vital,
visible, organic unity--he could not, at any time in his life, long
yield himself to sectarian embraces. Here is the true explanation of
the _ins_ and _outs_ that he practiced in this direction. When he went
_in_ he was esteemed just converted. When he went _out_, backslidden
and lost--so reckoned the sectarian treadmill brother in his case, who
failed to penetrate below the surface of his character, and did not
see him _as_ he was, and _where_ he was.
The truth is, the writer never knew a man in whose subjective life the
religious element was more potential. It was a profound inspiration,
and the mainspring of his whole life-movements. And even when some of
those movements became irregular and tangled from fractures or weakness
in subordinate machinery, the mainspring was there, performing its
functions, and kept him in motion. In every speech he ever made, at the
bar, on the stump, or elsewhere, this inspiration was in his soul, came
up to his lips, and gave them their greatest power.
The most elegant and moving strains of eloquence he ever uttered came
from this wellspring of the divine within him. It breathed in every
breath, it toned every word, it warmed every impulse, it was the muse
of every sentiment, it was the "fourfold chord" of his friendship;
it was the tidal wave of his soul, hurling the shore rocks of biting
sarcasm and scathing invective against evil and wrong. At such times
his very lips seemed formed by nature for this kind of work, and woe
betide the luckless man against whom he employed them. This divine
passion gave him "cloven tongues of fire," and made him on occasion a
pentecost of eloquence.
Congress was the ambition and disappointed hope of his life. So with
Webster, Clay, and Calhoun, in regard to the Presidency of the United
States. They were said to be too great for the position, which, of
course, was intended as a high political compliment, meritoriously
given to offset their disappointment. The compliment belongs with equal
propriety to the subject of our sketch in his life-long aspirations for
Congressional honors.
With his peculiar talents he doubtless would have shone more in the
popular branch of the National Legislature than in the Senate. He
was, by nature and education, the people's representative. But as a
politician, in his own interest and for his own ends, he was a failure.
There were plenty of men, with half his talent, that could and did beat
him to death at the wheel of political fortune. Yet he was a king among
his peers, though never crowned, but a king "for a' that."
He was the Whig candidate for Congress in 1844; and to show his
popularity, though a Whig, and his party, on a strict party vote, in
the minority by several hundred votes in the Congressional District,
yet he swept it, and entered Nauvoo with a majority of between four
and five hundred votes. But there the vote was solid against him. Joe
Smith had a revelation the day before that the Mormons must vote for
the Democratic candidate. And so he was beaten by the Mormons, who
belonged to no party, but were up for bargain and for sale. Mr. S.
would not soil his honor by making a bid for their vote.
He was candidate again, in 1850, against the Hon. Thompson Campbell.
Again he carried the district, entering Jo Daviess, his competitor's
own county, with a majority of between three and four hundred
votes. But the local feeling there for the home candidate overcame
the majority, and defeated him again. When it is remembered what
partisan odds he had to overcome in these two contests, amounting to
a diversion of a thousand or more Democratic votes, and would have
been triumphantly elected in the one case but for the treachery of the
Mormons, and in the next but for the local feeling in his competitor's
home county, preferring a home candidate, with the wholesale bid of
Campbell for the abolition vote in certain localities, touching the
abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia; we say, taking these
things into the account, they exhibit the immense power and popularity
of Mr. S.
Was he too honest for a politician? Aye, that was it. He reposed too
much confidence in the professions of political friends. They took
advantage of confidences ingenuously imparted, and slew him at the
gate of triumphal entry. And some did it who had eaten bread from his
professional hands. Such is life in this world of strife. Once when the
election returns revealed their perfidious betrayal of him he cried
out with a voice that could be heard from far: "Three cheers for Judas
Iscariot! hurrah! hurrah!! hurrah!!!"
He was a life-long Whig and Republican, and did much heavy work for
his party, but official recompense never came--a marked example of the
proverbial ingratitude of political parties. Others entered into his
labors and took his reward.
After months of severe suffering with malignant erysipelas, he paid the
debt that all must pay, which balanced the books for this world, except
that the balance sheet, if left unstruck by the hand and seal of the
death-king, would show him a heavy creditor of his country. He died
during the December term of the Stephenson County Circuit Court, A. D.
1864, his Honor, Benj. R. Sheldon, presiding.
The Hon. Thos. J. Turner, a contemporary of the deceased at the bar,
arose in Court and said:
"It is difficult for me to find words to express what we all feel
on this solemn occasion. Hon. Martin P. Sweet is dead. We shall not
again hear from his lips the burning eloquence that in times past has
thrilled the court and the bar, as he held up to view the enormities
of crimes which he had been called upon to prosecute; or the melting
pathos with which he captivated the sympathies of jury and people,
while defending those he regarded innocent. Few men ever possessed that
magnetic power which chains an audience in a greater degree than did
our departed friend.
"It is not alone at the bar that he has left his impress as a leading
mind. In the arena of politics, and in the sacred desk, he was alike
conspicuous. Logical in argument, terrible in invective, and quick
in repartee, he carried the judgments of the jury or an audience.
Or failing here his quick sympathies and deep pathos led them along
against the convictions of judgment. Such was Martin P. Sweet as an
orator and advocate. A self-made man, he surmounted difficulties which
would discourage and defeat others, and reached a position at the bar
second to none, and established a reputation as an orator of which any
man among us might well feel proud.
"But it is not as a public or professional man alone that we mourn
him to-day. Mr. Sweet immigrated to Winnebago County, in this State,
in the year 1838, where, with his own hands and the help of his wife,
he erected a comfortable log-house, and there entered upon that
chimerical course of life which, at some time or other, in the life of
almost every lawyer has held out the promise of ease, self-culture and
intellectual enjoyment--the life of a farmer. But he soon found that
the fields would not yield a harvest without incessant toil, and that
calves and pigs did not spring indigenous from the soil. And in 1840
he left his farm and removed to Freeport, where he remained, with the
exception of two or three years he was in the ministry, until his death.
"On opening an office in Freeport he soon secured a remunerative
practice, and took a first rank at the bar throughout the circuit.
His services were sought after wherever important cases were to be
tried, or legal ability was required. Among the traits of character
that endeared Mr. Sweet to the members of the profession were his
urbane manners, his nice sense of professional honor, and his kind
and courteous bearing toward those who were opposed to him. In these
respects he has done much to elevate the standard of professional
ethics.
"In private life he was generous and urbane, and had many friends, with
few if any enemies. In his death the bar has lost one of its brightest
ornaments, the city a good citizen and zealous friend, and the County
and State an able defender of their rights. For all these we mourn him.
There is still another circle that mourns him with a deeper grief--the
charmed circle of home. The sorrow which reigns there is too sacred
to be spoken of in this place. With closed eyes and silent lips, all
that was mortal of our friend sleeps just where he desired his last
sleep should be, beneath the green sods of this beautiful prairie land,
which in life he loved so well; while his spirit, we trust, has entered
upon higher and holier joys, and more sublime pursuits than this earth
affords.
"Let us, my brethren of the bar, while our eyes are suffused with
tears, and our hearts bowed with sorrow over his grave, resolve to
emulate his virtues, to follow his example, and avoid and forget his
faults--if he had any--so that when our work on earth is done, and
when our names maybe mentioned, as the name of our departed friend is
mentioned to-day, with bated breath and choked utterance, it may be
said of us: 'Our work is finished, it is well done.'"
In response to Mr. Turner's eulogy the Judge said, in substance, that
"during the sixteen years he had been on the circuit bench he had known
Mr. Sweet as a member of the bar, and as an effective speaker and legal
orator he had no superior, and at times he was the leading genius,
outstripping all others in his judicial circuit. That it was probable
we should never look upon or hear his like again. The thrilling tones
of that voice, so powerful, so charming and so eloquent, have died
away forever to the natural ear, but still we hear the echoes in the
chambers of the soul. And hereafter, when we think of Mr. Sweet, it
will be in connection with some great effort we have heard him make in
by-gone years, and the sensations we felt then will again rush over the
soul. Thus will he speak back to us from the world of the departed. And
to-day, while sitting here on this accustomed bench, I seem to hear
his utterances over again, as we all do, but they are more solemn and
impressive because now they have the momentum of eternity added to that
of time. May we emulate his virtues and be prepared when our change
comes."
During the delivery of the eulogy the Judge appeared more deeply moved
than he had ever been known to be before, on any occasion, and the
members of the bar fully sympathized. It was a rare occasion for the
play of solemn emotions, and for a grand uprising of the soul toward
God.
We offer no apology to the reader for prefacing our book with the
foregoing eulogistic sketch of our departed friend, and it is presumed
none is necessary. We are certain of it with the friends of Mr. Sweet,
who knew him best. And if he had enemies that last till now, political
or otherwise, to such we make our bow in passing, and say, _requiescat
in pace!_
This outline sketch, containing something of an analysis of the
character and gifts of Mr. S., though too brief to be called a
biography, is extended beyond the limits of our original purpose,
but while justified in our own feelings and desires in the matter,
we doubt not the glad approval of the reader will be given also; and
particularly of the profession to which he belonged, and in which he
was a star of the first magnitude. But aside from a desire to render
this tribute of respect to the fragrant memory of departed worth and
genius, the writer, with modest pretension, would wrest his name from
further silence of the pen and press, and rob oblivion of a name too
bright, and too dear to friends and relatives to be lost from the
public eye and ear.
Now the reader may well conclude that the eloquent pleadings of such
a friend were quite sufficient to deter one in the unpropitious
situation of our country, during the winter of 1860-1, from making
the rash move--"Out of the world into Texas." The writer can never
forget that earnest private interview, in the little side office, when
Mr. S. employed his powers of logic and description to maintain the
assertion that the "irrepressible conflict" was about to reach the
shocking crisis of civil war between the North and South. A decade
of years has since passed, bearing him away, but his predictions
have become historic verity. The conflict culminated in the _ne plus
ultra_ of human rage, in which the two greatest evils of all time
met and struggled for the mastery--war and slavery. And because war
was the greater slavery was wiped out in a baptism of blood! And in
that baptism the grim-visaged evil plucked and sacrificed five or
six hundred thousand home lilies from the "Sunny South" and from the
mountains and valleys of the North!