"I owe it to myself to say that no earthly power could induce me to vote
for a specific measure for the introduction of slavery where it had not
before existed, either south or north of that line. Sir, while you
reproach, and justly too, our British ancestors for the introduction of
this institution upon the continent of America, I am for one unwilling
that the posterity of the present inhabitants of California and New
Mexico shall reproach us for doing just what we reproach Great Britain
for doing to us."
He upbraided on the one hand the ultra abolitionists as reckless
agitators, and hurled defiance at disunionists of the South, while at
the same time appealing to the loftier nature and patriotic impulses of
his hearers:--
"I believe from the bottom of my soul that this measure is the reunion
of the Union. And now let us discard all resentments, all passions, all
petty jealousies, all personal desires, all love of peace, all hungering
after gilded crumbs which fall from the table of power. Let us forget
popular fears, from whatever quarter they may spring. Let us go to the
fountain of unadulterated patriotism, and performing a solemn
lustration, return divested of all selfish, sinister, and sordid
impurities, and think alone of our God, our country, our conscience, and
our glorious Union."
As described by Bancroft, Clay was "in stature over six feet, spare and
long-limbed; he stood erect as if full of vigor and vitality, and ever
ready to command. His countenance expressed perpetual wakefulness and
activity. His voice was music itself, and yet penetrating and
far-reaching, enchanting the listeners; his words flowed rapidly without
sing-song or mannerism, in a clear and steady stream. Neither in public
nor in private did he know how to be dull."
Bold, fearless, commanding, the lordliest leader of his day, he was yet
gentle, and as an old friend wrote, "was the most emotional man I ever
knew. I have seen his eyes fill instantly on shaking the hand of an old
friend, however obscure, who had stood by him in his early struggles."
The manliest of men, yet his voice would tremble with emotion on reading
aloud from a letter the love messages from a little grandchild.
The following, told me by a gentleman who knew Mr. Clay, illustrates the
true gentleman he was:--
"When I was a small boy my father took me with him to visit Mr. Clay at
his home Ashland. We found some gentlemen there who had been invited to
dinner. Just before they went in to dinner my father told me privately
to run out and play on the lawn while they were dining. As the gentlemen
came out, Mr. Clay saw me, and calling me to him said, 'My young friend,
I owe you an apology.' Turning to the gentlemen he said, 'Go into the
library, gentlemen, and light your cigars--I will join you presently.'
Taking me by the hand he returned with me to the table, ordered the
servants to attend to my wants, and conversed most delightfully with me
until I had finished my dinner."
He had the faculty of making friends and holding them through life by
ties which no circumstances or conditions could sever.
When Clay passed away there was no one whose Unionism embraced all
sections, who could stand between the over-zealous advocates of
abolition of slavery on the one side and the fiery defenders of the
"divine institution" on the other. Sectionalism ran riot, and civil war
was the result. During the many years when the North and South were
divided on the question of slavery, and sectional feeling ran high,
Henry Clay was the only man in public life whose broad nationalism and
intense love for the Union embraced all sections, with no trace of
sectional bias. He can well be called "The Great American."
[Signature: John R. Procter]