From Memphis Davy went down the river to Natchez by steamboat, hoping to recover the boats in case they had held together. He heard of one of them fifty miles below Memphis, where attempts had been made to stop it, but, he says, “she was as hard-headed as ever.” Nothing was afterwards known of the other. So ended another of Davy’s ventures, and again he went home with empty hands to the little cabin at the end of the trail through the Obion wilderness.
In this lone clearing, he was literally “the man from the cane,” but he had no idea of staying there. He hunted bears, and planted his crops, and waited his time. When this had come, he again “offered” for Congress, and started upon an electioneering tour. His trip in which the boats were lost was in the year 1826, probably late in the fall. The Congressional campaign occurred in 1827, and the election was in August of that year. Some of the incidents of the canvass by Davy will be told in the next chapter.
[XV.]
CLAY AND WEBSTER
Davy runs for Congress—He plays the part of the little red fox—The guinea-hens annoy Davy’s opponent—Davy’s coon-skin cap and his rifle win the election in spite of Jackson’s opposition—He is now the Hon. David Crockett, M.C., and a national character—Again crosses the mountains on his way to the capital—Familiar scenes bring back old memories—He repays the friend who lent him money for the campaign—In the “straggling village of Washington”—Davy’s dream of future greatness—He becomes acquainted with Clay, Webster, and other great men.
It will be remembered that Davy was beaten by two votes in 1825, Colonel Alexander being elected to Congress at a time when cotton was twenty-five cents per pound. The Colonel took his part of the credit for this advance in prices, and was a winner as a tariff supporter. While he was in Congress, cotton tumbled to six and eight cents, and the Colonel was out of political ammunition. The story of Colonel Crockett’s bear-hunting on the Obion had been told in every cabin. His wreck and escape from drowning on the river awakened the sympathy of every poor man in his district, and they made up the greater part of the population. As may be supposed, Davy had no money for a canvass of so large a district; but a good friend gave him enough to start with, and seems to have been at many of the meetings, always with a little more to help along. In time this amounted to one hundred and fifty dollars, not a great sum for a three months’ campaign.
Davy’s opponents were Colonel Alexander, for reëlection, and General William Arnold, of the militia, who was also an advocate and a brilliant speaker. The situation reminds us of the Æsopian fable:
“A Lion and a Tiger happened to come together over the dead body of a Fawn that had recently been shot. A fierce battle ensued, and as each animal was in the prime of his age and strength, the combat was long and furious. At last they lay stretched on the ground, panting, bleeding, and exhausted, each unable to lift a paw against the other. An impudent Fox, coming by at the time, stepped in and carried off before their eyes the prey for which they had suffered so much.”
It is a curious coincidence when Davy says that he was as cunning “as a little red fox,” and would not risk his tail in a “committal trap,” carefully avoiding any declaration of his rather vague political creed. His competitors were so busy warring against each other, that they lost sight of the little red fox whom they had not thought worthy of attention.