“Whoia! here I am, and intend, in a very few and expressive terms, to speak my sentiments. Mr. Speaker, I have come all the way from Oregon, to see, in behalf of my afflicted neighbours, who live a considerable distance apart, and I want to know, what in thunder you’re about here, in this comfortable location, while your fellow-countrymen, who are not allowed to emigrate north of the Columbia River, on account of a raging he-calf who is bla-ting on the other side; but, thunder and squashes! can this be borne? No! Can the free inhabitants, who have emigrated there with the full belief that protection was to be extended to them from the great republic, bear the yoke of British law and British tyranny? No, Sir! we expect you to guard us from the sneers and insults of savages subject and give us aid, and to plant the standard of our country immutably on the 54–40, and, if anything, a leetle north.
“Powder and gun-flints! must we give up what is clearly proved by many of our great men—and though not set down in Webster’s Spelling Book—to belong to us? will any man, who has pure American blood coursing through his veins, say let it go, ’cause we’re afraid to fight? No, Sir! no! it is not in the natur of Liberty boys to allow any usurpation of our rights; let us be guided by Crockett’s motto: ‘First, be sure your right, then go ahead.’
“I’ve killed four horses, worn out three pair of trousers and a pair of saddle-bags, besides spending all my money to come here, and I must know before I go back, which way the cat jumps, or both countries shall hear from me, to their entire satisfaction, sooner or later. I’ve left my grandmother, father, wife, three children, six cows, two hosses, eighteen sheep, a gross of turkeys, geese, hens, chickens, a black dog, and a grey cat, who fondly look for my return, and I wish to know, without the shadow of a doubt, whether we are to be protected, or not, by this government, or are we tew be trampled under the iron hoofs of Europe’s roaring Bull. We are strong and true at heart for our country, but we are as yet too few in number to offer just resistance. Give us a chance for a few years, however, and we will then look out for ourselves.
“Yet the time is not far off, when the locomotive will be steaming its way to the Rocky Mountains, with a mighty big train of cars running after it. Yes, the whistle of the engine will echo through the South-west Pass, and sharply hint to the free people of that great territory the approach of hundreds and thousands tew, who are to be their neighbours. No, Sir, the time is not far distant, when our commerce with China will equal that of all the world; when the Pacific Ocean will be crossed with as much ease as the Frog pond on Boston Common.
“Yes, Mr. Speaker, as my eloquent friend from the Hoosier State remarks: ‘Men of blood, and friends of General Washington, and that old hoss, General Jackson, I want your attention. Lightnin’ has burst upon us; and Jupiter has poured out the ile of his wrath. Thunder has broke loose and slipped its cable, and is now rattling down the mighty Valley of the Mississippi, accompanied by the music of the alligator’s hornpipe. Citizens and fellers; on the bloody ground on which our fathers catawampously poured out their claret free as ile, to enrich the soil over which we now honour and watch with hyena eyes, let the catamount of the inner varmint loose and prepare the engines of vengeance, for the long looked-for day has come. The crocodile of the Mississippi has gone into his hole, and the sun that lit King David and his host across the Atlantic Ocean, looks down upon the scene, and drops a tear to its memory.’
“I am with you, and while the stars of Uncle Sam, and the stripes of his country, triumph and float in the breeze, whar, whar is the craven, low-lived, chicken-bred, toad-hoppin’, red-mouthed mother’s son of ye who will not raise the beacon-light of triumph, smouse the citadel of the aggressor, and press onward to liberty and glory? Wha-ah! Hurrah! where’s the inimy?”
| [11] | By G. H. Hill. |
XVIII.
BILL DEAN, THE TEXAN RANGER.[[12]]
Rare wags may be found among the Texas Volunteers, yet the funniest fellow of all is a happy-go-lucky chap named Bill Dean, one of Chevallier’s spy company, and said to be one of the best “seven-up” players in all Texas. While at Corpus Christi, a lot of us were sitting out on the stoop of the Kinney House, early one morning, when along came Bill Dean. He did not know a single soul in the crowd, although he knew we were all bound for the Rio Grande; yet the fact that the regular formalities of an introduction had not been gone through with, did not prevent his stopping short in his walk and accosting us. His speech, or harangue, or whatever it may be termed, will lose much in the telling, yet I will endeavour to put it upon paper in as good a shape as possible.