SCENES AT THE SYCAMORE SPRING--NICODEMUS HANDY'S SPEECH AS
PRESIDENT--SKETCH OF ANDREW GRANT'S SPEECH--AGAMEMNON
FLAG'S--ATTEMPTS AT INTERRUPTION--THEODORE FOG'S CELEBRATED
SPEECH ON THIS OCCASION--ELOQUENT EXPOSITION OF
PRINCIPLES--HIS TRIUMPH--HIS MISFORTUNE--QUIPES'S
DISAPPOINTMENT OF HIS FRIENDS.
When the crowd had gathered around the stand appropriated to the
President, the nine Vice-Presidents, and the six Secretaries, besides
the speakers who were to address the meeting, and when every officer was
in his place, Nicodemus Handy came forward with his pocket-handkerchief
in his hand, wiping from his brow the perspiration, which naturally
breaks out on a man of sensibility and wealth when called to discharge
the honorable and responsible function of presiding over a vast
concourse of freemen. By way of digression, I would take this occasion
to remark upon the extreme appropriateness of the phrase which is now
universally used in describing meetings of the people, and which always
refers to them as _freemen_. Ever since the people have been drilled to
walk in the way appointed for them by the leaders of their respective
parties, and are so liberally told how they must think, speak, and vote;
and when no man is allowed to walk out of that path without being
threatened with condign punishment, it is extremely proper, in order to
avoid odious imputations which malevolent observers might cast upon
them, on all occasions to employ the phrase I have alluded to; since, if
this were neglected, these malevolent observers might take it into their
heads to call the people of our free Republic Tools, Instruments,
Rank-and-File, and other names significant of a state of subserviency,
which in the eyes of strangers might cast discredit on our free
institutions: even the _officers_ of our government might be branded
with the name of _hirelings_ and _servants_, and an opinion might thus
be fostered that, instead of being the freest nation upon earth, we
were a set of slaves governed by a set of hired servants--a most
unwarrantable, unjust, and derogatory conclusion. For this reason, I am
particular in the language above employed, and I think that every
genuine Quod will see the value and the force of my vindication and use
of this phrase.
Mr. Handy rose to his feet, wiped his brow, and made a graceful
obedience to the assembled body of freemen.
"Gentlemen," said he, with a most laudable diffidence, in a voice which
not more than fifteen persons, exclusive of the nine Vices and six
Secretaries, could hear; "sensible of the great honor--endeavor to
discharge with fidelity--obvious incapacity--but exceedingly flattered
by the testimony of your confidence;" then wiping his brow, still more
vehemently, with his cambric handkerchief rolled up like a snow-ball, he
continued: "It falls to my lot to introduce to you our distinguished
friends, Agamemnon Flag, Andrew Grant, and Theodore Fog, Esquires, men
of whom any land may be proud--they will speak for themselves. With such
men to choose from, our country cannot fail to rise up to the
very midnight of prosperity, honor, and renown. Thanks for your
attention--rely upon your indulgence--Mr. Grant will lead off."
"Three cheers for Nicodemus Handy!" cried out several Quods, as soon as
our distinguished townsman took his seat; and, thereupon, about twenty
heads were uncovered, and the twenty throats appurtenant to the same
gave the three rounds called for.
Andrew Grant now came forward, and made a discourse of about an hour's
length. It was in the usual style of the Whigs, and began with an
attempt to raise an impression that the country, notwithstanding General
Jackson's express declaration to the contrary, given to the nation under
the solemn sanction of a presidential message, and notwithstanding his
successor's certificate to the same effect, was in a state of difficulty
and distress. This young man, not more than twenty-five years of age,
living in comparative obscurity, had the hardihood, in the face of a
large and respectable body of freemen, to contradict the word of two
Presidents of the United States! Then, after coloring this picture of
adversity with all imaginable hues of shade, he did not scruple to
affirm that the whole of these fancied embarrassments were brought on by
the _folly_, as he termed it, of our rulers--charged the great
Democratic majority of the nation with having carried bad measures
through Congress--said the Whigs had warned us of the results of these
measures--and even went to the point of asserting that the suspension of
the banks was the consequence of the acts of the party in power. To make
out this absurd proposition, he read extracts from the speeches of Whig
members, against the removal of the deposits, to show what he called
their prophecies of disaster to the people; then actually affirmed that
the experiment of General Jackson upon the Currency had failed, and that
all the Whig predictions had come true; and after sundry excursions into
the Hard Money and State-Bank systems of the administration, finally
wound up his remarks by a very fatiguing enumeration of the General's
pledges to the people before his election, and his changes of opinion
upon these subjects afterward;--in regard to which he produced and read
certain long-winded documents from the President and Secretaries, to the
great annoyance of our Quods, who, in fact, became so tired of this
impertinent matter, that not more than half a dozen of them remained
within hearing of the speaker, the great bulk of them having gone over
to the spring to refresh themselves in a more agreeable manner.
Eliphalet Fox very aptly remarked, immediately after this long prosing
was brought to an end, that the speech was a _perfect failure_: he had
heard Andy Grant spoken of as a young man of talents, but he turns out
to be a miserable take-in. "Nothing in him, sir!" said Eliphalet, in his
terse way; "nothing in him, sir!"
The Whigs, as is usual with them, affected to be hugely delighted.
Augustus Postlethwaite Tompkinson took pencil-notes and announced his
purpose to publish the speech entire. "A great speech that," said he to
Mr. Snuffers--"extraordinary young man!--great speech."
Mr. Handy now lost no time in presenting Agamemnon Flag, who came
forward with a confident, self-possessed air, smiling through his gold
spectacles, and apparently very much delighted at the opportunity of
presenting himself before his fellow-citizens.
"I see before me," said he, in a clear, fine-toned voice, and with an
affable manner, "a vast concourse of----"
"Put on your hat," cried out three or four from the crowd, upon
observing that a sunbeam had straggled through the foliage and lit up
Agamemnon's yellow, curly locks, likening them to golden wire.
"Thank you, my friends," said the orator, stepping one pace to the right
and thus bringing himself into the shade, "in the presence of the
sovereign people, I always stand uncovered, regardless of the exposure
of my person."
This happy sally brought forth a long and loud clapping of hands from
the great multitude of Quods, who, the moment Andy Grant had finished
speaking, had crowded back to the stand.
"Take off your goold specs, Ag; let's see your Dimmycratic phiz out and
out!" said Flan Sucker at the top of his voice, from the outskirts of
the assemblage.
A loud laugh that shook full one hundred diaphragms, followed this
demand, and Agamemnon good-naturedly took off his glasses.
"Anything to oblige you, gentlemen," said he; "but as I am very
short-sighted, I deprive myself of the pleasure of a better view of my
worthy fellow-citizens."
"Put on your specs, Ag," said Nim Porter--"never mind Flan Sucker!"
"Put on your specs!" cried out the whole of the convention who had
nominated the ticket, backed by a number of their friends."
"Blast his eyes!" said Cale Goodfellow, turning to his Tumbledownians,
who were all friends of Fog, and of course opposed to the nomination.
"Let's have a representative who can _see_ what he is about--none of
your goold daylights!"
"Specs or no specs, go it!--Yip!" shouted Flan. Sucker, with a voice
that rang like a trumpet.
"Or-der!--Or-der!" said Mr. Handy, rising from his seat and coming
forward beside the speaker, and waving his hand to the crowd, greatly
concerned to see these manifestations of dissension in the ranks of the
party. "Gentlemen, it is but fair that every man should be heard, and
the chair takes occasion to say, that it is mortified at these
interruptions. If the gentlemen opposed to the nomination--the chair
alludes to those who have unfortunately allowed themselves to be
influenced by the iron railing, a subject which has nothing upon earth
to do with the pending election--if these gentlemen are not disposed to
give Mr. Agamemnon Flag an opportunity of delivering himself, the chair
would invite such persons to reflect upon the obvious impropriety of
such a course. The chair is persuaded that this disturbance results from
mere want of reflection, and hopes it shall not be required again to
remind gentlemen of the courtesy due to Mr. Flag."
As Virgil describes in that notable passage, the subduing of the rage
of popular commotion by AEneas, and likens it to the mandate of Neptune
quelling the waves of old ocean, so fell Mr. Handy's timely reproof upon
the Anti-iron Railings, and, in a moment, all was still. Agamemnon then
began again in his original track.
"I see before me a vast concourse of free citizens--the solid,
substantial, durable, permanent, everlasting pillars of free government.
The honest, upright, pure, hard-handed, horny-fisted, Democratic
yeomanry of the country are here--not the flesh and blood of the
country, for that is the pampered aristocracy--but the bone and sinew
surround me. It rejoices my eyes to behold these honest, sturdy,
independent, intelligent, invincible tillers of the soil--these brawny,
unconquerable, liberty-loving working-men--I say, sir, I delight to look
upon them; my feeble vision, sir----"
"Put on your specs, Ag!" shouted Ben Inky and Flan Sucker again, at the
same instant;--and the cry was echoed from various quarters.
Some moments of disorder again prevailed, which required the second
interposition of Mr. Handy, who, in the most spirited manner, proclaimed
his positive determination to resign, unless the order of the meeting
could be preserved. "I will never consent," said he, with a most
laudable energy, "to hold any post, executive or representative, for one
moment after I shall have discovered that I do not possess the
confidence of the people; the chair must feel itself compelled, by every
sentiment which, as a friend of the New-Light Democracy, it holds dear,
to resign the moment it finds that it has fallen into a minority." Then
followed these remarkable words:--"Sustain me, Quodlibetarians, or let
me go!"
For full five minutes after this, the uproar was tremendous. The Iron
Railings and Anti-iron Railings almost came to blows. The Tumbledownians
and Bickerbrayians took their appropriate sides in the contest, and, for
a space, nothing was heard but shouts of Fog!--Flag!--Fog!--Flag! over
the whole field. When both parties had bawled themselves perfectly
hoarse, and for mere want of wind ceased the clamor, Theodore Fog
mounted the hustings, and made a special request of his friends to keep
the peace and hear Mr. Flag to an end. He put this request upon the
ground of a personal favor to himself, and promised them that, at the
proper time, they should hear his sentiments very fully upon all the
agitating questions of the day.
This appeal was conclusive, and Mr. Flag once more presented himself.
But the interruptions he had suffered seemed most unhappily to have
thrown him entirely out of gear; and becoming very much embarrassed, he
struggled for some moments to regain his self-possession, as I thought,
without success--although Fox thought otherwise,--and, after less than
half an hour's speaking, sat down, rather crest-fallen and mortified.
I may unwittingly do Mr. Flag injustice in this remark; for, in truth,
my mind was greatly occupied with the tumult, and I confess I was,
therefore, not a very attentive listener. Fox, on the contrary, was
minutely observant of the speech, and did not scruple to pronounce it a
masterly effort of eloquence, calculated to place Mr. Flag beside the
first statesmen of our country. This was his opinion at the time, and it
was even more warmly and eulogistically expressed subsequently, in The
Whole Hog, where the speech appeared in nine closely-printed columns on
the following Saturday.
Theodore Fog was always a great favorite at our public meetings, and the
moment now approached when the field was to be surrendered to him. The
New Lights, including the members of the nominating convention and the
friends of the Iron Railing Compromise, backed by Virgil Philpot of The
Scrutinizer, and a large force of Bickerbrayians, were determined that
Agamemnon Flag should not want a very decisive token of applause; and
they accordingly called out for "nine cheers for the regular candidate!"
Responsive to this call, their whole party lustily set about the work;
and, for some minutes after the conclusion of Agamemnon's speech, the
air resounded with huzzas for "Flag and the Constitution!" "New Light
and Regular Nomination!" This was answered by a round for "Fog and
Reform!" "Retrenchment and no Iron Railing!" and Fog, in the midst of
this acclamation, appearing on the speaker's stand, all cries were lost
in the most violent clapping of hands.
Theodore Fog's figure is about six feet, lean and bony, and with a
stoop which inclines a little to the right, so as to bring his left
shoulder somewhat higher than its opposite. His arms are unusually long,
his head small, his face strongly furrowed with deep lines, his eyes of
a greenish luster, his nose decidedly of the pug species, his mouth
large, his complexion of that sallow, drum-head, parchment hue that
equally defies the war of the elements, and the ravages of alcohol.
Although short of fifty years of age, his hair is iron gray, and spreads
in a thick mat over his whole cranium. At no time of life has he been
careful of dress, but now has declined into an extreme of negligence in
this particular. On the present occasion, he wore a striped gingham
coat, rather short in the sleeves, and cross-barred pantaloons; his
shirt collar was turned down over a narrow, horsehair stock; and a broad
black ribbon guard crossed his breast and terminated in the right pocket
of a black bombazet waistcoat, where it was plainly to be seen from the
external impression, lodged a large watch. He presented himself to the
multitude, holding in his hand a rather shabby straw hat, which he,
nevertheless, flourished with the air and grace of one who had known
better days than his habiliments seemed to denote.
He stood for some time bowing and waving his hat in return for the
clamorous approbation with which he was greeted; and when, at length,
silence was restored, he began his speech.
"Countrymen and friends: you of Quodlibet, Bickerbray, Tumbledown and
the adjacent parts, hear me! I am an old, tried and trusty, unflinching
and unterrified Quodlibetarian New-Light Democrat--Flan Sucker, bring us
a tumbler of water--tangle it, Flan: no hypocrisy in me, gentlemen,--I
go for the ardent. You all know I am, and was from the first, opposed to
the iron railing--(here arose a cheer from the Anties)--but I don't
come to talk to you about that. You know, moreover, that I am an
anti-nomination man--I'm out on independent grounds--every man for
himself, as the jackass said to the chickens--(a loud laugh.) I want to
say a word about Agamemnon Flag--commonly called Ag Flag. Who's he? Look
at them gold spectacles, and you will see what he is at once. When the
plastic hand of Dame Nature set about the fabrication of that
masterpiece of human mechanism, a genuine, out-and-out thorough-stiched
New-Light Democrat, she never thought of sticking upon him a
nose to be ridden by two gold rings hung over it like a pair of
saddlebags--(loud laughter.) We have other uses for our gold; we want
it for mint-drops--old Tom Benton's mint-drops--to be run up into
them, to give the honest, poor man something better, when his week's
work is done, than Copperplate Bank rags, signed Nicodemus Handy--(loud
shouts and cheers from Flan Sucker's squad and the Tumbledowns; and
groans and hisses from the Convention men and Bickerbrays.) Friends, I
tell you, our party is split; emphatically split. I have seen this
coming for some time. We have three sets of New Lights among us, and it
is time we should know it. There are THE MANDARINS, our big bugs, and I
could name them to you. You will find them on Copperplate Ridge--('Bah!
bah!' from the New-Light Club--'Go it The! go it, old fellow!' from
the Anties.) You will find them at Popular Flats--('That won't do!'
cried fifty voices; 'three cheers for the Hon. Middleton Flam!'--loud
cheering for Flam: 'Walk into them, Fog!' from the Anties--great
laughter and rubbing of hands among the Whigs.) You will find them in
the Forwarding and Commission Line--(great uproar on all sides.)
After the Mandarins, come THE MIDDLINGS; and after the Middlings,
THE TRUE GRITS--the hearty, whole-souled, no-mistake Quods. I'm a
TRUE GRIT!--(great applause.) We are nature's noblemen--give
me that water, Flan. I call myself one of the Royal Family of
the Sovereign People--(renewed laughter and applause.) I am no
kid-glove-MANDARIN-Democrat: I am no milk-and-water, flesh-and-fowl,
half-hawk-half-buzzard-MIDDLING-Democrat: I am, to all intents and
purposes, toties quoties, in puris naturalibus, a TRUE GRIT, a whole
TRUE GRIT, and nothing but a TRUE GRIT.--(Here Theodore was obliged to
pause a full minute on account of the cheering.)
"Now this brings me," he continued after drinking off the potation which
Flan Sucker had assiduously placed upon the stand for his use, "to Andy
Grant. Andy Grant has told you a great deal about General Jackson's
pledges, and his changes and whatnot. Well, sirs, he _did_ change--what
of it? Is Democracy like the laws of the Medes and Persians? Is that
great sublime truth which vivifies the patriot's heart, resuscitates his
ambition and sparkles in the human breast, like a stone in the bottom of
a well, for toads to sit on? or is it the divine rainbow spanning the
earth with its arch, and changing with the sun, now in the east, now in
the west? Is it a post set up in a stream for the liquid element of
human policy forever to roll by and leave behind? or is it the mighty
mass of steam power that not only floats upon that element, but flies
onward across the great ocean of mortal things forever changing in its
career? Is not Democracy itself the march of intellect? and does not
marching consist in change of place? I hear you all answer, with one
accord, Ay, ay, ay!--(Taking the word from the orator, there was a loud
affirmative response to these questions.)
"Well, then, Jackson did change. He was _for_ the single term--he was
_against_ it: I confess the fact. He was _for_ the Protective System--he
was _against_ it: I agree to it. He was _for_ a National Bank--he was
_against_ it: what of that? He was _for_ the distribution of the
surplus, and again he was _against_ it; I know it. He was _for_ Internal
Improvements;--he changed his mind--he was _against_ them. Then
again, sirs, he was _against_ the interference of officers in the
elections;--he was sorry for it, and took the other tack. He was
_against_ the appointment of members of Congress--in theory;--in
practice he was _for_ it. He was _against_ this Sub-Treasury--and
perhaps he is now _for_ it. It is all true, as Andy Grant has told
you:--it is in the documents, I don't deny it. Sirs, it is the glory of
his character that he has been _for_ and _against_ everything;--and as
Mr. Van Buren promises to follow in his footsteps, he, of course, will
be for and against everything--I know him. He would not be a genuine New
Light, if he were not. We are all (and here Fog raised his voice to the
highest key, and struck the board sharply with his hand) FOR and AGAINST
everything! How else can we be with the majority? What is the New-Light
Quodlibetarian Democracy, but a strict conformity to the will of the
majority? Against that and that only we never go!--(tremendous
applause.) As Levi Beardsly said, Perish Commerce, Perish Credit!--and I
say, Perish Currency, Banks, Sub-Treasury, Constitution, Law, Benton,
Amos, Van--I had almost said perish Old Hickory--but _always_ go with
the MAJORITY!"
After this burst, which may be said to be truly eloquent, Theodore made
a very happy hit in touching upon the natural hostility between the
_rich_ and the _poor_, showing, with great point of remark, how
impossible it was for these two classes to have any Christian feelings
toward each other; and arguing from that the great New-Light Democratic
principle, that in every department of the government any man who holds
property ought to be deprived of all influence, and that it was the poor
man's right to legislate away the rich man's possessions. "Do we not
know," said he, "that in every community the majority are poor? that
there are two men without property for every one man with it? Of course
then, it follows logically, that, as two heads are better than one, the
sole right, as well as the sole power of legislation is in the poor, and
that they may make laws for the government of the rich; but the rich
cannot make laws for the government of the poor. Besides, who would be
the most impartial in such a matter, the man legislating for his _own_
property, or the man legislating for his _neighbor's_? This requires no
reply."
Upon the subject of the Sub-Treasury, Fog avowed boldly his
non-commitalism. "I am not sure, at this moment," said he, "how the land
lies. I wait to ascertain the sentiment of the majority, which, without
taking sides, I rather incline to think is against the measure. I judge
from the vote of the New Lights two years ago--although, I confess, that
two years are a long period for a New Light to look back, and that it is
rather over the usual time in which custom requires we should change. _I
shall wait for events._"
There were other subjects embraced in this speech, upon which my
memoranda are imperfect; but there was one part of it, toward the
conclusion, which was very pathetic.
The orator turned to those strangers among us who had come over from the
Bickerbray and Meltpenny Railroad. "Gentlemen," said he, "you stand in a
peculiarly interesting relation to the New Lights. You are strangers,
and, as the poet says,
'Stranger is a sacred name.'
Therefore, it is our wish to take you in. You have not been over sixty
days in our State: you are separated, many of you, from your
sweethearts--some of you from your wives--all of you from your
homes:--wife--sweetheart--home! Affecting words!
'Where is the man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land?' and so forth."
Here Theodore took up his red pocket-handkerchief, which was already
well saturated with the sweat of his brow, and feelingly wiped his eyes
for some moments, manifestly overcome by his emotions. At length he
proceeded.
"Do not despond, gentlemen--do not despair. The New Lights are your
friends, and not only shall you find wife, sweetheart, home--ay, and
children, in Quodlibet, but if you are here next month, we will see if
some of you are not entitled to a vote--that's all.--I have no doubt a
large portion of your respectable body are better voters than you think
you are. And at all events, if you are not, it becomes us as a Christian
people to extend to you that privilege. I go for the repeal of all laws
which tyrannically require a year's residence in the State, before a
stranger is allowed to vote."
"Hurra for Fog--hurra for Fog!" burst forth in loud chorus from the
new-comers.
"But," said Theodore in continuation, "as I scorn concealment, I must be
frank with you. The stranger should be grateful to his friends; and I,
therefore, for one, never can consent to extend the invaluable
privilege of suffrage to an unworthy man. He must be a New Light,
an ardent, unblenching Quodlibetarian Democrat, ready to go in
whatever way we who take the trouble to do his thinking for him,
require;--it is but reasonable. We think, study, burn the midnight
lamp, and toil, when he sleeps, and all for the good of the man who
has no time to do these things for himself--what is his duty in
return? Why, to stand by _us_ who make these sacrifices for his
welfare--clearly--undoubtedly--incontestably."
"Hurra for Fog!" again rose in hoarse reduplications on the air.
"And now, fellow-countrymen, one and all--men of Quodlibet, men of
Bickerbray--and especially men of Old Tumbledown, long my home, and
never absent from my heart--I have exposed to you frankly, freely,
unhesitatingly my principles and professions.--You see me as I
am--naked, guileless, and robed in the simplicity of my nature.--Flan,
another glass of that stuff, my boy. I do not imitate my friend Andy
Grant--for he _is_ my friend--we can differ in politics and break no
scores!--I do not, like him and the Whigs, entertain you with frothy
declamation, appealing to your passions or your prejudices--I scorn such
stratagems.--No, I address myself solely and severely, sternly, without
a flower, prosaically, without a figure, soberly, without a flight, to
your cool, temperate, and unseduced capacity of logical deduction. Yes,
gentlemen, I, a poor man, do battle against the hosts of the rich. I,
the friend of honest labor, struggle against the huge monopoly of
hoarded wealth, hoarded by grinding the faces of our sterling but
destitute laboring men--alone, I strive against these banded
powers--will you desert me in the strife?"
"Never!" cried Flan Sucker, Ben Inky, and six more of Fog's principal
men--"Never, never!"
"Then I am content. Come weal, come woe, here is a heart that will
never--or rather, gentlemen, let me say in the words of the poet--(it
now became quite obvious that Theodore was beginning to be very
seriously affected by the frequent refreshment which Flan Sucker had
administered during his speech,)
'Come one, come all, this rock shall fly
From his firm base as soon as I.'
"In conclusion, all I have to say is this--We are about to part.--When
you go to your homes, and with hearts enraptured by all a father's and a
husband's failings--feelings--you take your seats beside the old family
firesides, and with the partners of your bosoms getting supper, and your
interesting progeny clustering on your knees,--in the midst of all these
blessings pause to ask yourselves, what are they? Your hearts will
answer, they are _our Country_! How then, you will inquire, is that
country to be preserved, as a rich inheritance to these cherubs?--who
by this time have climbed as high as your waistcoat pockets, into which
they have, with the natural instinct of young New Lights, thrust their
little fingers--the response will be ready--Go to the polls in
October--go, determined to sustain the everlasting principles of the
New-Light Quodlibetarian Democracy--go, with a firm resolve to support
no Mandarin, no Middling, but to sustain an unadulterated True
Grit:--go, to vote for Theodore Fog, and your country shall be forever
great, prosperous and happy."
A wave of the hand and a bow showed that Theodore had uttered his last
words--upon which several rounds of applause, resembling the
simultaneous clapping of wings and crowing of an acre of cocks, more
than anything else I can imagine, shook the firmament, and, as the old
song has it, "made the welkin roar." A party of Tumbledownians,
instigated by Cale Goodfellow--(a wag who follows sporting, and keeps a
bank--I mean a faro bank--at Tumbledown, a most special friend of
Theodore's)--rushed up to the platform, and, seizing the orator in their
arms, bore him off in triumph to the spring, where they fell to
celebrating their victory, in advance of the election, over a fresh
supply of spirits produced by Cale Goodfellow for the occasion. The
result was that Theodore was obliged to be taken home to Quodlibet in a
condition which Mr. Handy, who is President of the Temperance Society,
pronounced to be perfectly shocking.
Some speaking took place after this by several volunteers: but from the
agitated condition of the assemblage, and the prevalence of uproar,
nothing worthy of notice transpired, and by sundown nearly all who could
get away had retired.
Quipes had been an attentive observer of the earlier scenes of the day,
and as he had his drawing-book with him, we had reason to expect some
spirited sketches of the crowd; but the poor fellow, being fatigued and
thirsty, and of a singularly weak head, was overtaken by his drought,
and was laid away in the afternoon in Abel Brawn's wagon, in which he
was brought to Quodlibet, Neal Hopper undertaking to ride his horse back
to the Borough.
The result of this day's proceedings was unfavorable to the regular
nomination, and highly auspicious to Theodore Fog. It was very evident
that The Split was going to do us a great deal of harm, and this gave
much uneasiness to the club. The Whigs seemed to consider it a good
omen, and old Mr. Grant and his party left the field in high spirits.