PEDAGOGUES AND DEMAGOGUES.
EDUCATION--COLLEGES--SCHOOL-DAYS--WILLIAM AND MARY--A SUBSTITUTE--
BOARDING AROUND--ROUGH DIAMONDS--CASTE--GEORGE M. TROUP--A SCOTCH
INDIAN--ALEXANDER McGILVERY--THE McINTOSH FAMILY--BUTTON GWINNETT--
GENERAL TAYLOR--MATTHEW TALBOT--JESSE MERCER--AN EXCITING ELECTION.
The subject of education engaged the attention of the people of Georgia
at a very early day subsequent to the Revolution. Public schools were
not then thought of; probably because such a scheme would have been
impracticable. The population was sparse, and widely separated in all
the rural districts of the country; and to have supplied all with the
means of education, would have necessitated an expense beyond the power
of the State. A system was adopted, of establishing and endowing
academies in the different counties, at the county-seat, where young
men who intended to complete a collegiate education might be taught,
and the establishment and endowment of a college, where this education
might be finished, leaving the rudimental education of the children of
the State to be provided for by their parents, as best they could.
Primary schools were gotten up in the different neighborhoods by the
concentrated action of its members, and a teacher employed, and paid by
each parent at so much per capita for his children. In these schools
almost every Georgian--yes, almost every Southerner--commenced his
education. It was at these schools were mingled the sexes in pursuit of
their A, B, C, and the incidents occurring here became the cherished
memories of after life. Many a man of eminence has gone out from these
schools with a better education with which to begin life and a conflict
with the world, than is obtained now at some of the institutions called
colleges.
Young men without means, who had acquired sufficient of the rudiments
of an English education, but who desired to pursue their studies and
complete an education to subserve the purposes of the pursuit in life
selected by them, frequently were the teachers in the primary schools.
From this class arose most of those men so distinguished in her earlier
history. Some were natives, and some were immigrants from other States,
who sought a new field for their efforts, and where to make their
future homes. Such were William H. Crawford, Abram Baldwin, and many
others, whose names are now borne by the finest counties in the
State--a monument to their virtues, talents, and public services,
erected by a grateful people.
These primitive schools made the children of every neighborhood
familiar to each other, and encouraged a homogeneous feeling in the
rising population of the State. This sameness of education and of
sentiment created a public opinion more efficacious in directing and
controlling public morals than any statutory law, or its most efficient
administration. It promoted an _esprit du corps_ throughout the
country, and formed the basis of that chivalrous emprise so peculiarly
Southern.
The recollections of these school-days are full of little incidents
confirmatory of these views. I will relate one out of a thousand I
might enumerate. A very pretty little girl of eight years, full of life
and spirit, had incurred, by some act of childish mischief, the penalty
of the switch--the only and universal means of correction in the
country schools. She was the favorite of a lad of twelve, who sat
looking on, and listening to the questions propounded to his
sweetheart, and learning the decision of the teacher, which was
announced thus: "Well, Mary, I must punish you."
All eyes were directed to William. Deliberately he laid down his books,
and, stepping quickly up to the teacher, said, respectfully: "Don't
strike her. Whip me. I'll take it for her," as he arrested with his
hand the uplifted switch. Every eye in that little log school-house
brightened with approbation, and, in a moment after, filled with tears,
as the teacher laid down his rod and said: "William, you are a noble
boy, and, for your sake, I will excuse Mary." Ten years after, Mary was
the wife--the dutiful, loving, happy wife of William; and William,
twenty years after, was a member of the Legislature, and then a
representative in Congress, (when it was an honor to a gentleman to be
such,) and afterwards was for years a Senator in the same body--one of
Georgia's noblest, proudest, and best men.
Can any one enumerate an instance where evil grew out of the early
association of the sexes at school? In the neighborhoods least
populous, and where there were but few children, the pedagogue usually
divided the year into as many parts as he had pupils, and boarded
around with each family the number of days allotted to each child. If
he was a man of family, the united strength of the neighborhood
assembled upon a certain day, and built for him a residence contiguous
to the school-house, which was erected in like manner.
These buildings were primitive indeed--consisting of poles cut from the
forest, and, with no additional preparation, notched up into a square
pen, and floored and covered with boards split from a forest-tree near
at hand. It rarely required more than two days to complete the
cabin--the second being appropriated to the chimney, and the chinking
and daubing; that is, filling the interstices with billets of wood, and
make these air-tight with clay thrown violently in, and smoothed over
with the hand. Such buildings constituted nine-tenths of the homes of
the entire country sixty years ago; and in such substitutes for houses
were born the men who have moved the Senate with their eloquence, and
added dignity and power to the bench of the Supreme Court of the
nation, startled the world with their achievements upon the
battle-field, and more than one of them has filled the Presidential
chair.
Men born and reared under such circumstances, receive impressions which
they carry through life, and their characters always discover the
peculiarities incident to such birth and rearing--rough and vigorous,
bold and daring, and nobly independent, without polish or deceit,
always sincere, and always honest.
However much the intellect may be cultivated in youth--however much it
may be distinguished for great thoughts and wonderful attainments,
still the peculiarities born of the forest cling about it in all its
roughness--a fit setting to the unpolished diamond of the soul.
The rural pursuits of the country, and the necessities of the isolated
condition of a pioneer population, which necessities are mainly
supplied by ingenuity and perseverance on the part of each, creates an
independence and self-reliance which enter largely into the formation
of the general character. The institution of African slavery existing
in the South, which came with the very first, pioneer, and which was
continually on the increase, added to this independence the habit of
command; and this, too, became a part of Southern character. The
absolute control of the slave, placed by habit and law in the will of
the master, made it necessary to enact laws for the protection of the
slave against the tyrannical cruelties found in some natures; but the
public sentiment was in this, as in all other things, more potent than
law. Their servile dependence forbade resistance to any cruelty which
might be imposed; but it excited the general sympathy, and inspired,
almost universally, a lenient humanity toward them.
They were mostly born members of the household, grew up with the
children of each family, were companions and playmates, and naturally
an attachment was formed, which is always stronger in the protecting
than the protected party. It was a rare instance to find a master whose
guardian protection did not extend with the same intensity and effect
over his slave as over his child: this, not from any motive of
pecuniary interest, but because he was estopped by law from
self-defence; and, too, because of the attachment and the moral
obligation on the master to protect his dependants. Besides, the
community exacted it as a paramount duty. It is human to be attached to
whatever it protects and controls; out of this feeling grows the spirit
of true chivalry and of lofty intent--that magnanimity, manliness, and
ennobling pride which has so long characterized the gentlemen of the
Southern States.
Caste, in society, may degrade, but, at the same time, it elevates.
Where this caste was distinguished by master and slave, the distinction
was most marked, because there was no intermediate gradation. It was
the highest and the lowest. It was between the highest and purest of
the races of the human family, and the lowest and most degraded; and
this relation was free from the debasing influences of caste in the
same race. An improper appreciation of this fact has gone far to create
with those unacquainted with negro character the prejudices against the
institution of African slavery, and which have culminated in its
abolition in the Southern States.
The negro is incapacitated by nature from acquiring the high
intelligence of the Caucasian. His sensibilities are extremely dull,
his perceptive faculties dim, and the entire organization of his brain
forbids and rejects the cultivation necessary to the elimination of
mind. With a feeble moral organization, and entirely devoid of the
higher attributes of mind and soul so prominent in the instincts of the
Caucasian, his position was never, as a slave, oppressive to his mind
or his sense of wrong. He felt, and to himself acknowledged his
inferiority, and submitted with alacrity to the control of his
superior. Under this control, his moral and intellectual cultivation
elevated him: not simply to a higher position socially, but to a higher
standard in the scale of being, and this was manifested to himself at
the same time it demonstrated to him the natural truth of his
inferiority. This gratified him, promoted his happiness, and he was
contented. The same effect of the relation of master and servant can
never follow when the race is the same, or even when the race is but
one or two degrees inferior to the dominant one.
The influence of this relation upon the white race is marked in the
peculiarities of character which distinguish the people of the South.
The habit of command, where implicit obedience is to follow, ennobles.
The comparison is inevitable between the commander and him who obeys,
and, in his estimation, unconsciously elevates and degrades. This
between the white man and negro, is only felt by the white. The negro
never dreams that he is degraded by this servility, and consequently he
does not feel its oppression. He is incapable of aspiring, and
manifests his pride and satisfaction by imitating his master as much as
is possible to his nature. The white man is conscious of the effect
upon the negro, and has no fear that he is inflicting a misery to be
nursed in secret and sorrow, and to fill the negro's heart with hate.
This, however, is universally the effect of the domination of one man
over another of the same race. The relation was for life, and the
master was responsible for the moral and physical well-being of his
slave. His entire dependence makes him an object of interest and care,
and the very fact of this responsibility cultivates kindness and
tenderness toward him. But this is not all; it carries with it a
consciousness of superiority, and inspires a superior bearing. These
influences are more potent in the formation of female than male
character. The mistress is relieved absolutely from all menial duties,
and is served by those who are servants for life, and compulsorily so.
She is only under the obligations of humanity in her conduct toward
them. They must do her bidding. She is not afraid to offend by giving
an order, nor is she apprehensive of being deserted to discharge her
household labor herself by offending them. It is their duty to
please--it is their interest--and this is the paramount desire. The
intercourse is gentle, respectful, and kind; still, there is no
infringement of the barrier between the mistress and the servant. This
habit is the source of frankness and sincerity, and this release from
the severity of domestic labor the fruitful source of female delicacy
and refinement, so transcendently the attributes of character in the
ladies of the South. It gives ease and time for improvement; for social
and intellectual intercourse; creates habits of refinement, and a
delicacy seen and heard in all that is done or said in refined female
society in the South. Something, too, I suppose, is due to blood. There
are many grades in the Caucasian race. The Anglo-Norman or Anglo-Celtic
is certainly at the head. They rule wherever left to the conflict of
mind and energy of soul. Sometimes they are conquered for a time, but
never completely so. The great constituents of their natures continue
to resist, and struggle up, and when the opportunity comes, they strike
for control and supremacy--
"And freedom's battle, once begun,
The cause bequeathed from sire to son,
Though baffled oft, is ever won."
The Southern woman's soul is chivalry. From the highest to the
humblest, the same lofty purpose, pride, and energy animate them. They
have contrasted the free and noble with the mean and servile. Its magic
has entered their natures and quickened their souls. In all there is a
lofty scorn for the little and mean. The same withering contempt for
the cringing and cowardly is met in every one of them. Their impulses
are generous, and their aspirations noble, with hearts as soft and
tender as love, pity, and compassion can form. Yet in them there is,
too, the fire of chivalry, the scorn of contempt, and the daring of her
who followed her immortal brother, the great Palafox, at the defence of
Saragossa, her native city, and, standing upon the dead bodies of her
countrymen, snatched the burning match from the hand of death, and
fired the cannon at the advancing foe, and planted Spain's standard, in
defiance of the veterans of Soult--a rallying point for her
countrymen--and saved Saragossa. They were born to command, and can
never be slaves, or the mothers of slaves.
The same influences powerfully operate in producing that bearing of
chivalrous distinction, which is seen everywhere in the deportment of
the Southern gentlemen toward ladies. They are ever polite, respectful,
and deferential. This, however, is only one of many elements in the
peculiar character of Southern people. Their piety is Christian in its
character. The precepts of the Bible are fashioned into example in the
conduct of the older members of society, and especially in the female
portion. This is, perhaps, the predominant element. The Bible is the
guide, not the fashion, in religious duty. Its doctrines are taught in
purity, and in their simplicity enter into the soul, as the great
constituent of character.
The chivalrous bearing of man toward woman inspires her with elevated
and noble sentiments--a pride and dignity conservative of purity in all
her relations--and, reflecting these back upon society, producing most
salutary influences. It is woman's pride to lean on man--to share his
love and respect--to be elevated by his virtues, and appreciated by the
world because of his honors--to be a part of his fame. The mother, the
wife, the sister, the relative should share with the husband, the son,
the brother, the kinsman, in the world's honors, in the sufferings,
sorrows, and miseries incidental to all. They are part and parcel of
man, and partake of his nature and his position, as of his fortune.
When man shall cease to view woman, and so deport himself toward her as
a purer, more refined, and more elevated being than himself, that
moment she will sink to his level, and then her prestige for good is
gone forever. That delicacy, refinement, and chasteness, so restraining
and so purifying to man in her association, is the soul of
civilization--the salt of the earth. In its absence, no people are ever
great; for, as it is the spirit of man's honor, so is it a nation's
glory. It must be cherished, for it inspires man's honor by man's
chivalry. Thus she becomes a people's strength; for their crown of
glory is her chastity and angelic purity.
These virtues distinguished the pioneer women of Middle Georgia sixty
years ago. As their husbands were honest and brave, they were chaste
and pious; and from such a parentage sprang the men and women who have
made a history for her pre-eminent among all her sister States. Her
sons have peopled the West, and are distinguished there for their high
honor and splendid abilities; and yet at home she boasts Toombs, Colt,
Stephens, Hill, Johnson, Campbell, and a host of others, who are proud
specimens among the proudest of the land. They have measured their
strength with the proudest minds of all the Union, and won a fame
unequalled, adorning her councils, its Cabinet, its Bench, and were the
first everywhere.
George Michael Troup, one of the most distinguished of Georgia's sons,
was the son of an English gentleman, who emigrated to Georgia anterior
to the Revolution. He married Miss McIntosh, of Georgia, sister of
General John McIntosh, of McIntosh County. He took no part in the
Revolution. England was his mother country; to her he was attached, and
in conscience he could not lift his hand in wrath against her. This
course did not meet the approval of the McIntoshes, and he retired from
the State and country. First, he went to England, but not contented
there, he came to the Spanish town of Pensacola. Here he met the
celebrated Indian chief, Alexander McGilvery, who was hostile to the
Americans, and who invited him to take refuge in his country. McGilvery
was a remarkable man; his father was a Scotchman, his mother a
half-breed; her father was the celebrated French officer who was killed
by his own men in 1732 at Fort Toulouse--his name was Marchand,--and
her mother a full-blooded Creek woman.
McGilvery supposed him an English emissary, and invited him to go into
the Creek nation and reside with his people. From Pensacola he went to
Mobile, and thence to a bluff on the Tombigbee, where he remained
during the war. This bluff he named McIntosh's Bluff, and it bears the
name yet. Here George M. Troup was born. At the close of the war he
returned to Georgia, and fixed his residence among the relatives of his
wife. The McIntosh family were Highland Scotch, and partook of all the
intrepidity of that wonderful people. They immigrated to Georgia with
General Oglethorpe in company with a number of their countrymen, and
for one hundred and thirty years have continued to reside in the county
named for the first of their ancestors who settled and made a home in
the colony of Georgia. It is a family distinguished for chivalry as
well in Europe as in Georgia. At the commencement of the Revolution
they at once sided with the colonists. Lachlin and John McIntosh became
distinguished as leaders in that protracted and doubtful conflict,
meeting in battle their kinsman in high command in the British army. On
one occasion, when John McIntosh had surrendered at the battle of Brier
Creek, a British officer, lost to every sentiment and feeling of honor,
attempted to assassinate him, and was only prevented from doing so by
Sir Æneas McIntosh, the commander of the English army, whose promptness
arrested the blow by interposing his own sword to receive it.
Lachlin McIntosh was the commander of the first regiment raised in
Georgia to aid in the Revolution. In 1777, a difficulty arose between
Button Gwinnett (who, upon the death of Governor Bullock, had succeeded
him as Governor,) and McIntosh. A duel was the consequence, in which
Gwinnett was killed. Tradition says this difficulty grew out of the
suspicions of McIntosh as to the fidelity of Gwinnett to the American
cause. He was an Englishman by birth, and, upon the breaking out of the
war, hesitated for some time as to the course he should pursue. This
was a time when all who hesitated were suspected, and Gwinnett shared
the common fate. Eventually he determined to espouse the revolutionary
party, and was elected to the Convention, and was one of the immortal
band who signed the Declaration of Independence emanating from that
Convention. Until his death he was faithful and active. McIntosh
doubted him, and he was not a man to conceal his opinions. McIntosh was
severely wounded in the conflict.
This family was one of remarkable spirit; and this has descended to the
posterity of the old cavaliers even unto this day. Colonel McIntosh,
who fell at Molino del Rey, in our recent war with Mexico, was one of
this family. He had all the spirit and chivalry of his ancestors. I
remember to have heard Generals Taylor and Twiggs speaking of him
subsequently to his death, and felt proud, as a native of the State of
Georgia, of the distinguished praise bestowed on him by these gallant
veterans. General Taylor was not generally enthusiastic in his
expressions of praise, but he was always sincere and truthful. On this
occasion, however, he spoke warmly and feelingly of the honor, the
gallantry, and intrepidity of his fellow-soldier--his high bearing, his
pride, his proficiency as an officer in the field, and the efficiency
of his regiment, its perfection of drill and discipline, and coolness
in battle--and, with unusual warmth, exclaimed: "If I had had with me
at Buena Vista, McIntosh and Riley, with their veterans, I would have
captured or totally destroyed the Mexican army."
Captain McIntosh, of the navy, was another of this distinguished
family. He had no superior in the navy. So was that ardent and
accomplished officer, Colonel McIntosh, who fell at Oak Hill, in the
late war in Missouri. In truth, there has not been a day in one hundred
and thirty years, when there has not been a distinguished son of this
family to bear and transmit its name and fame to posterity. Through his
mother, to George M. Troup descended all the nobler traits of the
McIntosh family. He was educated, preparatory to entering college, at
Flatbush, Long Island. His teacher's name I have forgotten, but he was
a remarkable man, and devoted himself to the instruction of the youth
intrusted to his care. He seems to have had a peculiar talent for
inspiring a high order of ambition in his pupils, and of training them
to a deportment and devotion to principle which would lead them to
distinguished conduct through life. Governor Troup, in speaking to the
writer of his early life and of his school-days on Long Island, said:
"There were twenty-one of us at this school fitting for college, and,
in after life, nineteen of us met in Congress, the representatives of
fourteen States."
Troup, after leaving this school, went to Princeton, and graduated at
Nassau Hall, in his nineteenth year. Returning to Savannah, he read
law; but possessing ample fortune, he never practised his profession.
His talents were of an order to attract attention. James Jackson, and
most of the leading men of the day, turned to him as a man of great
promise. The Republican party of Savannah nominated him to represent
the county of Chatham, in the Legislature of the State, before he was
twenty-one years of age. Being constitutionally ineligible, he, of
course, declined; but as soon as he became eligible, he was returned,
and, for some years, continued to represent the county. From the
Legislature he was transferred to Congress, where he at once became
distinguished, not only for talent, but a lofty honor and most polished
bearing. While a member of Congress, he married a Virginia lady, who
was the mother of his three children. Soon after the birth of her third
child, there was discovered aberration of mind in Mrs. Troup, which
terminated in complete alienation. This was a fatal blow to the
happiness of her husband. She was tenderly beloved by him; and his
acute sensibility and high nervous temperament became so much affected
as not only to fill him with grief, but to make all his remaining life
one of melancholy and sorrow. He had been elected to the United States
Senate, but, in consequence of this terrible blow, and the constant
care of his afflicted lady, to which he devoted himself, he lost his
health, and resigned. He retired to his home, and to the sad duties of
afflicted love.
About this time the people of Georgia became divided upon the political
issues of the day. William H. Crawford was nominated by his friends for
the Presidency. This aroused his enemies' hatred, who organized an
opposition to him in his own State. This opposition was headed by John
Clarke, his old enemy, and was aided by every old Federalist and
personal enemy in the State. Crawford's friends were too confident in
the popularity which had borne him to so many triumphs, and were slow
to organize. The election of Governor devolved, at that time, upon the
Legislature, and Clarke, upon the death of Governor Rabun, was
announced as the candidate. The event of Rabun's death occurred only a
very short time before the meeting of the Legislature. Matthew Talbot,
the President of the Senate, assumed, under the Constitution, the
duties of Governor, but sent the message already prepared by Rabun to
the Legislature, and immediately an election took place, whereupon
Clarke was elected. Troup had been solicited to oppose him, but was
loath to embark anew in political life. Ultimately he yielded, and was
defeated by thirteen votes. The friends of Crawford were now alarmed,
and the contest was immediately renewed. The canvass was one of the
most rancorous and bitter ever known in the State, but of this I have
spoken in a former chapter. At the ensuing election, Troup was again a
candidate. Again the contest was renewed, and, if possible, with
increased violence and vigor. Clarke, in obedience to usage, had
retired, and his party had put forward Matthew Talbot, of Wilkes
County, as the competitor of Troup. This contest had now continued for
four years, and Troup was elected by two votes.
The memory of this election will never fade from the minds of any who
witnessed it. At the meeting of the Legislature it was doubtful which
party had the majority. Two members chosen as favorable to the election
of Troup, were unable from sickness to reach the seat of Government,
and it was supposed this gave the majority to Talbot. There was no
political principle involved in the contest. Both professedly belonged
to the Republican party. Both seemed anxious to sustain the principles
and the ascendency of that party. There were no spoils. The patronage
of the executive was literally nothing; and yet there was an intensity
of feeling involved for which there was no accounting, unless it was
the anxiety of one party to sustain Mr. Crawford at home for the
Presidency, and on the other hand to gratify the hatred of Clarke, and
sustain Mr. Calhoun.
During the period intervening between the meeting of the Legislature
and the day appointed for the election, every means was resorted to,
practicable in that day. There was no money used directly. There was
not a man in that Legislature who would not have repelled with scorn a
proposition to give his vote for a pecuniary consideration; but all
were open to reason, State pride, and a sincere desire to do what they
deemed best for the honor and interest of the State. The friends of
either candidate would have deserved their favorite instantly upon the
fact being known that they had even winked at so base a means of
success. Every one was tenaciously jealous of his fame, and equally so
of that of the State. The machinery of party was incomplete, and
individual independence universal. There were a few members, whose
characters forbade violence of prejudice, and who were mild,
considerate, and unimpassioned. These men were sought to be operated
upon by convincing them that the great interests of the State would be
advanced by electing their favorite. The public services of Troup, and
his stern, lofty, and eminently pure character, were urged by his
friends as reasons why he should be chosen. The people of the State
were becoming clamorous for the fulfilment of the contract between the
State and General Government for the removal of the Indians from the
territory of the State, and Troup was urged upon the voters as being
favorable in the extreme to this policy, and also as possessing the
talents, will, and determination to effect this end. Finally the day of
election arrived. The representative men of the State were assembled.
It was scarcely possible to find hotel accommodations for the
multitude. The judges of the different judicial districts, the leading
members of the Bar, men of fortune and leisure, the prominent members
of the different sects of the Christian Church, and especially the
ministers of the gospel who were most prominent and influential, were
all there. The celebrated Jesse Mercer was a moving spirit amidst the
excited multitude, and Daniel Duffie, who, as a most intolerant
Methodist, and an especial hater of the Baptist Church and all
Baptists, was there also, willing to lay down all ecclesiastical
prejudice, and go to heaven even with Jesse Mercer, because he was a
Troup man.
The Senate came into the Representative chamber at noon, to effect, on
joint ballot, the election of Governor. The President of the Senate
took his seat with the Speaker of the House, and in obedience to law
assumed the presidency of the assembled body. The members were ordered
to prepare their ballots to vote for the Governor of the State. The
Secretary of the Senate called the roll of the Senate, each man, as his
name was called, moving up to the clerk's desk, and depositing his
ballot. The same routine was then gone through with on the part of the
House, when the hat (for a hat was used) containing the ballots was
handed to the President of the Senate, Thomas Stocks, of Greene County,
who proceeded to count the ballots, and finding only the proper number,
commenced to call the name from each ballot. Pending this calling the
silence was painfully intense. Every place within the spacious hall,
the gallery, the lobby, the committee-rooms, and the embrasures of the
windows were all filled to crushing repletion. And yet not a word or
sound, save the excited breathing of ardent men, disturbed the anxious
silence of the hall. One by one the ballots were called. There were 166
ballots, requiring 84 to elect. When 160 ballots were counted, each
candidate had 80, and at this point the excitement was so painfully
intense that the President suspended the count, and, though it was
chilly November, took from his pocket his handkerchief, and wiped from
his flushed face the streaming perspiration. While this was
progressing, a wag in the gallery sang out, "The darkest time of night
is just before day." This interruption was not noticed by the
President, who called out "Troup!" then "Talbot!" and again there was a
momentary suspension. Then he called again, "Troup--Talbot!" "82--82,"
was whispered audibly through the entire hall. Then the call was
resumed. "Troup!" "A tie," said more than a hundred voices. There
remained but one ballot. The President turned the hat up-side down, and
the ballot fell upon the table. Looking down upon it, he called, at the
top of his voice, "Troup!" The scene that followed was indescribable.
The two parties occupied separate sides of the chamber. Those voting
for Troup rose simultaneously from their seats, and one wild shout
seemed to lift the ceiling overhead. Again, with increased vim, was it
given. The lobby and the galleries joined in the wild shout. Members
and spectators rushed into each others' arms, kissed each other, wept,
shouted, kicked over the desks, tumbled on the floor, and for ten
minutes this maddening excitement suspended the proceedings of the day.
It was useless for the presiding officer to command order, if, indeed,
his feelings were sufficiently under control to do so. When exhaustion
had produced comparative silence, Duffie, with the full brogue of the
County Carlow upon his tongue, ejaculated: "O Lord, we thank Thee! The
State is redeemed from the rule of the Devil and John Clarke." Mercer
waddled from the chamber, waving his hat above his great bald head, and
shouting "Glory, glory!" which he continued until out of sight. General
Blackshear, a most staid and grave old gentleman and a most sterling
man, rose from his seat, where he, through all this excitement, had sat
silent, folded his arms upon his breast, and, looking up, with tears
streaming from his eyes, exclaimed: "Now, Lord, I am ready to die!"
Order was finally restored, and the state of the ballot stated, (Troup,
84; Talbot, 82,) when President Stocks proclaimed George M. Troup duly
elected Governor of the State of Georgia for the next three years.
This was the last election of a Governor by the Legislature. The party
of Clarke demanded that the election should be given to the people.
This was done, and in 1825, Troup was re-elected over Clarke by a
majority of some seven hundred votes. It was during this last contest
that the violence and virulence of party reached its acme, and pervaded
every family, creating animosities which neither time nor reflection
ever healed.