AT THE HARRISON CONVENTION,
AT NASHVILLE, TENNESSEE, AUGUST 17, 1840.
[ON this occasion, a short time previous to the presidential election, an immense assemblage of whigs, called ‘the southwestern convention,’ met at Nashville, Tennessee, to take measures to promote the election of General Harrison. Mr. Clay accepted an urgent invitation to be present, and address the convention, the substance of which address is subjoined, relating to the political topics of the day, and some reminiscences of the past; alluding, also, to his political differences with general Jackson, whose residence was near Nashville.]
MR. CLAY was called for, with an enthusiasm which seemed to have no bounds; and, when he came forward, with those characteristic smiles playing all over his remarkable countenance, the air was rent with nine such cheers as it has seldom fallen to the lot of any man to receive. When those had subsided, he commenced somewhat as follows.
Mr. President, gentlemen of the convention, ladies, friends, and fellow-citizens. This day may be likened to the glorious and genial sun that now shines upon us. Clouds are occasionally flitting over it, and obscuring, for the moment, its beaming rays, but truth will break through the mist, and shine the brighter for having been for a time obscured. By November next, the dark clouds which have been lowering above the political horizon, will all disappear. I congratulate this vast multitude upon the glorious prospect before us.
This, said Mr. Clay, is a convention of the people, and he asked if he might not, without arrogance, revert to the cause of his appearing before them. During the arduous contest in which he had been long engaged, occasional clouds lowered about him, but, conscious of the correctness of his motives, of the purity of his intentions, he had stood out from the beginning dauntless, erect, and undismayed.
Had he visited Tennessee during the campaign to which he had alluded, he would have disabused the public mind in relation to the charges which were made against him. In giving his vote, in 1825, for Mr. John Quincy Adams, he obeyed the wishes of his constituents. It had been charged that he did not do this, but the charge was unfounded. It was true that the legislature of Kentucky at the time, made a request that he should give a different vote; but that body, in making the request, went beyond its province; ithad no right to interfere in the matter; the right belonged exclusively to his constituents, in the counties of Fayette, Woodford, and Jessamine. Each of these counties sustained, approved, and ratified his conduct at the time, and neither of them has ever, to this day, revoked or annulled that approbation. With respect to his motives, for the course he pursued, he had nothing, on this occasion, to offer. Those motives were known to, and would be adjudged by, his God. He never doubted that the day would come when justice would be done him. Yes, he never doubted that brave, generous, patriotic Tennesseans would be among the first to do him justice. This, he felt they had done. The welcome with which he was greeted on his arrival; the procession, the banners, and last, though not least, the many bright eyes that beamed, and the handkerchiefs that waved on the occasion, all spoke to him a language of true and heartfelt welcome, as grateful as it was flattering to his feelings.
It was true, that he had some reluctance, some misgivings, about making this visit at this time, which grew out of a supposition that his motives might be misconstrued. The relations which had for a longtime existed between himself and the illustrious captain in this neighborhood, were well understood. He feared, if he accepted the invitation to make the visit now, that it might be thought by some that his motives were less patriotic than sinister or selfish. But he assured that great assemblage, that towards that illustrious individual, their fellow-citizen and friend, he cherished, he possessed no unkind feelings. He was a great chieftain; he had fought well and bravely for his country; he hoped he would live long, and enjoy much happiness, and, when he departed from this fleeting vale of tears, that he would enter into the abode of the just, made perfect.
Mr. Clay said, that, in addressing an assembly of so many thousands as he now saw around him, when so many topics were crowding into the mind, he was at a loss to select a theme. Shall I, he asked, dwell upon a ruined currency, upon the prostration of business, the stagnation of trade, and the destruction of commerce? Or shall I speak of the wasteful extravagance of the present powers that be?
A paper had just been put into his hands, which he had never seen before, that represented, in the form of a pyramid, the expenditures of the last three administrations. He held it up to view, and explained its meaning. He read some of the items of expenditure, under the present administration, which is so characteristically economical, and contrasted them with expenditures, under the same heads, made by the administration of John Quincy Adams, an administration whose extravagance so shocked the sensibilities of the whole nation!
But Mr. Clay said, this was not one of the themes he hadselected to address the audience upon. He had thought to refer to, among other things, some of the very extraordinary doctrines now advanced, by those who profess to entertain the greatest veneration and regard for the state rights doctrines. In this connection, he brought up the ridiculous manœuvre, in the United States senate, at the late session, on the subject of the debts of the several states. A long report was made, that the general government would not assume the payment of those debts—a thing that nobody ever dreamed of! This report, of which an extraordinary number of copies was ordered to be printed for circulation, was drawn up, said Mr. Clay, by your fellow-citizen, and an old acquaintance of mine, (honorable Felix Grundy.) And one of the pleasures which I promised myself, in making this visit to your beautiful town, was to meet and talk over matters with him. But, on my inquiry for him, I learned that he was in East Tennessee, making speeches in favor of the present administration! Ah, said I, at his old occupation, defending criminals! (The manner in which this was said, surpasses description. Those only who saw it, or who are acquainted with Mr. Clay’s gesticulations and style of speaking, can imagine any thing approaching the reality.)
But there is this difference, said Mr. Clay, between my distinguished friend’s present and past defence of criminals. He is now defending great criminals of state, not before a carefully packed jury, but before the free, enlightened, virtuous, and patriotic people; and, therefore, we may well hope that his present defence will not be attended with his hitherto usual success!
Mr. Clay referred to Mr. Van Buren’s recommendation, in 1837, of a bankrupt law, bearing exclusively upon state banks, as an evidence of his regard for state rights, and mirrored forth the evils of such a law.
He reverted to the progress of the sub-treasury bill, through its several stages, and descanted upon the manner in which it was finally got first through the senate, and then the house, with great ability and eloquence; in which connection he gave a clear and succinct account of the manner, and for what cause, New Jersey was so disgracefully disfranchised.
Mr. Clay said, the party in power profess to be democrats par excellence! Among all their usurpations, he knew of none more absurd than the usurpation of this name. He professed himself to be a true democrat. He learned his democracy in the school of ’98 and ’99. It was very different, he confessed, from the democracy taught now-a-days, in high places. It did not say, in the language of the motto upon the Bedford county banner, which he just read, ‘the people expect too much from the government;’ ‘let the government take care of itself, and the people of themselves.’ No! the democracy that he had learned was the reverse of this language of the present democratic president. But the newdemocracy does not stop here. It asks for allegiance to the powers that be. The democracy of Jefferson asked a candidate for office if he was capable, and honest, and would support the constitution. But the new democracy asks very different questions. It asks, how many votes can you bring to the polls? What’s your influence? Are you boisterous partisans? It also holds out inducements or bribes, which Jefferson’s democracy did not. It says, if you labor in my cause, and the people reject you, I will take care that your reward shall be certain. He instanced the appointment of Mr. Grundy, and then referred to the appointment of John M. Niles, as postmaster general, who, not four months ago, was rejected by the people by four thousand five hundred votes. To be thus beaten, was a sure passport to an executive office. By the bye, he said, the office conferred upon Mr. Niles was not a very enviable one, for he had to take a seat previously occupied by a creature, than whom a more despicable creeping reptile could not be named. His fellow-citizens, he presumed, would know to whom he alluded.
Mr. Clay here dwelt for some minutes upon the immoral tendency to which such a course of administration as he had been alluding to would lead. But he trusted it would be checked—that the great physician, the ballot-box, was near at hand, and that by November, the disease would be met by an effective and most salutary remedy. When before had such a state of things as now exists been known? When before such a disregard of obligations? When before have sixty-four out of sixty-seven land officers proved defaulters? When before have defaulters not only been retained in office after their defalcations were known, but absolutely reappointed? He referred to the appointment of Mr. Livingston, as secretary of state, at a time when he was a defaulter, but said, he presumed the president did not reflect sufficiently upon the tendency such an appointment would have. He referred to the Moore and Letcher case, and to the appointment of Hocker, to the best office in the country, for his services in that dark transaction. He had heard that Hocker had since proved a defaulter.
Mr. Clay said, he would like to address himself directly to the democrats within the sound of his voice. He wished to address them, not as enemies, but as brothers, as men equally patriotic, and equally devoted with the whigs, to the best interests of the country. We differ, said he, but upon what subject do men not differ? Have all your hopes been realized, in regard to the administration of the government? Have the pledges that were made you been fulfilled? Take, for example, the one term for the presidency. Did not the great captain promise you that one term was enough for a president to serve? Was it carried out? How was the promise, not to appoint members of congress to office, carried out? How was the promise, to reduce the extravagant expendituresfulfilled? What principle was carried out? what promise kept? what pledge redeemed? Is there an administration man in this vast assemblage that will answer, shouted the Kentucky orator, in the loudest tones of his musical voice?
Mr. Clay said, he had called the present a vast assemblage, and he would take that occasion to declare, that there were more people, and more banners there, than there were at the great Baltimore convention. And why are there so many people here, coming together from almost every state in the union?
Mr. Clay said, he claimed to be a democrat, in the true sense of the word—a democrat ready to stand by or die for his country. He referred to the great contest now going on, and asked that nothing should be done to the injury of our opponents. All, he said, were interested alike; all were on board the great ship of state; all were alike interested in the success of the voyage. But there were exceptions to the general rule; there were beings in the lead of the party who could not be hung too high—beings who set all the baser passions of men at work, and labor constantly and solely for no good. There was another class; the boisterous office-holders, the prætorian band, the palace slaves, he was about to say, of Martin Van Buren! But then, to call such a man a king over such a people as this great concourse! oh, he would not so insult them!
Mr. Clay, in conclusion, addressed the Tennesseans particularly. He reverted to the position of Tennessee and Kentucky. They stood side by side; their sons fought side by side at New Orleans. Kentuckians and Tennesseans now fight another and a different kind of battle. But they are fighting now, as then, a band of mercenaries, the cohorts of power. They are fighting a band of office-holders, who call general Harrison a coward, an imbecile, an old woman!
Yes, general Harrison is a coward! but he fought more battles than any other general during the last war, and never sustained a defeat! He is no statesman! and yet he has filled more civil offices of trust and importance than almost any other man in the union!
[A man in the crowd here cried out, ‘tell us of Van Buren’s battles!’]
Ah! said Mr. Clay, I will have to use my colleague’s language, and tell you of Mr. Van Buren’s three great battles! He says that he fought general commerce, and conquered him; that he fought general currency, and conquered him; and that, with his Cuba allies, he fought the Seminoles, and got conquered!
Mr. Clay referred, with great good humor, to the seventeen thousand whig majority of Kentucky, and asked, if generous, chivalric Tennessee would not enter the lists of competition with her? He doubted not she would make a gallant effort to not only run up alongside, but to come out ahead of her!