7
' j j) dnA&S SP : : : Jill fo(K)c'A tfif-H -
' l i,
VOL. 3.-KO. 1C.
BY S. B. BOW
CLEARFIELD, PA., WEDMSDAT, DECEMBER 3, 1856.
GOOD-BYE.
gome words may often touch the heart,
Home oft create a sigh ;
But none more meaning can impart,
Than one fond last 'good-bye.'',
'Good-bye !" an aged mother said
Unto the infant son;
A word of prayer, a tear was shed
O'er that sweet angel one.
The spirit of the child is gone,
But on its pallid brow
A smile remained just like the one
Of angels, smiling now.
Ah ! when I leave this dreary world
' For brighter realms on high ;
For love's dear sake, 1 11 not forget
To breathe a last "good-bye !"
t TIIE UNEXPECTED WITNESS.
AN INTERESTING STORY.
On my last visit to Mississippi I arrived one
pleasant Autumn evening at the village of Deep
woods, having come in the stage that day from
Moody Creek. I found the inn well filled,and
learned that the circuit court was is session
there. At the supper-table I found the judge
and some half dozen lawyers, besides the coun
ty officers, and numerous visitors who had
come to attend the trials. I had some business
to transact with a merchant in the place,w hose
name was Landor "Wallack, aua i made mj
mind to call upon him during the evening. I
knew where his store was and after tea I walk
ed down to the place. The building was all
fast, however, and I turned my stops towards
Lis dwelling. I knocked at the door, and my
summons was answered by a black woman. I
asked her if Mr. Wallack was at home. She
looked into my face a few moments, and then
burst into tears.
'lie's to hum, but lie's dead !" she sobbed
with much effort.
I managed to learn from the negress that
Wallack had been murdered three days before,
nnd that his murderer would be tried on the
morrow. Under such circumstances I could
not disturb any other of the family, and hav
ing gathered from the slave the leading par
ticulars I left the door and returned to the inn.
There I learned some further matters touching
the murder, but those who understood the sub
ject fully were busy, and I was forced to wait
until to-morrow for a clear knowledge of the
case. Though the murder had been commit
ted so recently, the Jody having not yet been
buried, yet as the court was in session, and
the accused and witness on hand, the trial was
to take place immediately.
On the following morning I entered the
court-room with the crowd, and the first case
. that came up was that of the murder of Lan
dor Wallack. The accused was not over five-and-lwenty.
Edward Demarton. He bad been
employed several years as Wallack's chief
clerk, and was one of the most capable youth's
io the country. I had some dealings with him,
and had learned to love and respect him. He
was lightly built, remarkably handsome, and
bore himself with native pride which, while it
gave him firmness and dignity, never made
Lira haughty or over-bearing. He was an or
phan, ot French descent, and had been born
and reared in New Orleans. As he sat in the
prisoner's box I could see him plainly. He
was very pale, and seemed to suffer much ; yet
he did not look like a guilty man. I could
not believe that he had ever committed a mur
der, ne was too brave and honorable for that.
At length the trial commenced. The wit
nesses came on and gave their testimony, and
my heart sank within me as I found how strong
the tide of circumstances set against him. It
waswoved that he wished to marry with Lan
dor Wallack's niece, a young girl named Isa
bel Wallack, and that the uncle had objected.
From this a quarrel had ensued, aud the youth
had left Wallack's service. It was further
more proved that Demarton had challenged
Wallack to fight a duel, and that the merchant
had refused on the ground that ho could not
consent to meet one whom he still regarded as
a son. Then St was proved that the youth was
very wroth at this, and that he swore Mr. W
should "cither fight cr suffer the consequen
ces;" he was determined to have satisfaction
On the morning of tho murder, the merchant
started on horse-back for Dantonville, and in
half an hour afterwards tho prisoner mounted
his horse, and started after him, saying, as he
leaped into the saddle, that he "would easily
overtake 3Ix. Wallack." Aud then he added,
in presence of three witnesses, who swore to
the words, I can settle our trouble as well on
tho road to Dantonville as anywhere." This
was at six o'clock in the evening. At nine
o'clock, a man named Harold Dunk Harold,
he was called was coming from Dantonville-,
and in a small piece of wood through which
the road ran, lie came upon the body of Lan
ior Wallack, and at the same time he saw Ed
ward Demarton riding away from the spot.
The moon was shining brightly, and he recog,
nized the prisoner very plainly. He leaped
ivom his saddle and found the merchant sense
less, and bleeding freely from several wounds
Close bv he found a silver-handled bowie-knife
which had been proved to bo the prisoner's
I roncrtv. The knife was covered with blood,
aud the physicians had decided that the wounds
had been made with it. The murdered man
had also received a blow upon the head that of
itself was nearly sufficient to kill.
This Dunk narold was a hard-looking custo
mer, ne was a stout, broad-shouldered man,
somewhere about fortv vears of age.with dark,
coarse, animal features, and looked the perfect
nuain. in defence 11 wae proved tnat naroia
had some difficulty with the prisoner, and that
he had sworn to have revenge ; but this a
mounted to but little.
Surely the case seemed vey clear against
the prisoner. He had difficulty with the mur
dered man challenged him to mortal combat
swore to have revenge followed him on the
road to Dantonville with the avowed purpose
of settling the trouble been seen to fleeTrom
the bleeding body his knife found all bloody
by the murdered man's side and, when he
was apprehended, his own hands and clothes
were bespattered with blood ! Were not these
circumstances conclusive 1 At -all events, so
were they generally received.
At length Edward Demaston was permitted
to tell his story. He arose, and though he
was pale and wan, yet his voice was firm. He
first called upon God to witness that he spoke
the truth, and then went on. He said, on the
afternoon before the murder he had spent over
two hours with Mr. Wallack ; that all their dif
ficulty had been settled, and the merchant had
explained to him that his onl objection to the
marriage of Isabel had been tho fact that he
had promised her father, on his dying bed,
that ahc should not bo - miv
tweufy years of age.
"We made our differences all up at that
time," continued Demarton, "and Mr. Wal
lack asked me if I would come back Into his
service. He said if I had been willing to have
asked the reason of his refusal of Isabel's
hand he would have given it, but I was hot
and impetuous, and he was a little nettled by
it, so lie resolved to tell me nothnii:. He had
ust asked me if I would come back into his
service when some one entered the store who
wished to sec him. I told him I had planned
to go to Dantonville that evening, but would
call on him when I returned. He said he had
got to go to Dantonville, too, and bade me call
on him in that place, at the same time signi
fying that he would arrange iiTaltcrs there.
After that I went over by the lake, and when
I came back I learned that Mr. Wallack had
been gone half an hour. 1 got my horse rea
dy at once, and when about to start I did make
tho remarks which have been sworn too : but I
made them jokingly, in view of the friendly
meeting wo were to have, little thinking of
what was to occur. I rode off, and at the dis
tance of some ten miles, in the little wood, I
found Mr. Wallack's horse standing by the
side of the road. A little further on I found
the merchat weltering in his blood. I leaped
from my saddle and knelt down by the side of
the body. I turned the face up and called his
name several times. The flesh was yet warm,
but life seemed extinct. I got my hands and
clothes thus bespattered with blood, but I
thought not of that. When I found that life
was gone, and that I could not well handle the
body alone, I remounted my horse and started
back for help.
"It has been urged that if I had really
sought help I would have ridden on towards
Dantonville, where I could have found it with
in half a mile, rather than towards a point
where there was no house for over sis miles.
But I could not stop to think then. My first
instinct was towards home, and I followed it.
I had gone four miles when my horse fell.
He was too lame to trot. Soon afterwards I
was overtaken by Dunk Harold and another
man, who arrested me for the murder. With
regard to the knife the knife found was rniue,
and it had been stolen from me that day."
The youth sat down as he ceased speaking
and the judge shook his head.
'Any one can invert a story like that," he
said, in his charge to the jury, "but no one
could have invented the circumstances which
bear against the prisoner."
In short there seemed to be no hope for the
youth. Though people pitied him, yet I could
see that they shook their heads dubious when
he plead his innocence.
The judge had summed the evidence all up,
making it more strong against the prisoner
than before, if possible, and the jury were on
the point of retiring, when a sudden commo
tion was perceptible at the door, and in a mo
ment more a young girl, or maiden, rushed in
to the court-room, with her long chestnut hair
floating wildly in the wind, her bosom heaving
deeply, and her eyes fairly burning with in
tense eagerness. It was Isabel Wallack.' She
was a beautiful girl; tall, straight, and nobly
proportioned ; with a face of striking loveli
ness, and a form at once voluptuous and queen
ly. She cast one quick glance upon the pris
oner, full of love, eagerness, and hope, and
then turning to the judge, she cried
"Is he tried yet, sir ? Is he found guilty?"
"Not yet but he soon will be," answered
the judge, overcoming his astonishment jis
quickly as possible for the benefit of his dignity-
,
"Oh ! he's innocent ! he's innocent !" the
fair girl exclaimed. ''He's not the murderer.
Ho ! officers, seize upon Dunk Harold, and see
that he does not escape ! Quick ! quick !"
Even as tho maiden entered the room, Har
old had moved nearer to the door, and as these
last words were uttered he made a rush for the
street ; but a stout boatman in the doorway
held him until the sheriff eame up. The fel
low struggled hard, but a pair of iron cuffs
were soon placed upon his wrists, and he was
carried back.
"Now," continued tho girl, turning to the
judge, "will you send whom yon please to take
my uncle's words down ? lie is alivt .'" . . f
At these words Edward Demarton started i
his feet and uttered a cry of joy. But his feel
ings quickly overcame him, and he sank fainti
ing back. As soon as the first outburst of as-,
tonishment consequent upou this startling in -
telligencc had passed, Isabel explained what
had happened. She said two physicians were
with her uncle, and that he had revied from
his lethargic sleep ; that he had his senses per
fectly, and that he wished to give to tho prop
er persons an account of the assault which had
been made upon him.
The Court was adjourned at once, and then,
the judge himself, accompanied by three of
the lawyers and the foreman of the jury, went
to the merchant's house. They found the
wounded man very weak ; and the physicians
said he could not live long. As soon as the
new comers were arranged about his bed,he re
lated to them as follows :
He said that on the day he started for Dan
tonville he saw young Demarton at his store,
and that all difference between them was there
made up, and also that he promised to meet
him inDantonville. He started alone on horse-
dollars, winch he was to carry with him. It
was dusk when he started, and in half an hour
it was fairly night, only there was a bright
moon. When he reached the little wood, he
was overtaken by Dunk Harold. He felt a
sudden lear that Harold meant to rob him, for
lie (Harold) had seen him packing the money
away in his pocket-book. So he made a move
for his pistol, but before he could reach it,
Harold gave him a blow on the head with a
short club, which knocked him from his horse.
He remembered well of the villain's stabbing
him several times, and he knew, too, when he
took the money from' his pocket. lie could
remember nothing more until he had tome to
his senses on the morning of the then present
day.
The physician's said that the sufferer had
been in a sort of cateleptic state, induced by
one of the stabs, and partly aided by the blow
on the head. His account was taken down,
word for word, by one of the lawyers, SLd du
ly witnessed ; while the two physicians swore
that the man was in possession of full sense
and sound mind. Witn these attested docu
ments, the party, returned to the court-room.
The court was quickly opened, and ere long
the jury returned a verdict of acquittal for Ed
ward Demarton, and thereupon ttie joy of the
spectitors burst forth in a shout, which the
court tried not to stop.
Mr. Dunk Harold was soon put upon trial for
the murder, and duly convicted of the crime.
When he found that all was known, he made a
lull confession. He confessed that he did the
deed, and that he did it for the money. He
knew that young Demarton was going on the
same road, so he contrived to steal the youth's
knife, meaning to fasten the murder upon him.
And but for the wondorful interposition of the
Power which had held the murdered man for
a witness, the scheme would have succeeded.
Mr. Wallack lived till noon of the next day,
and before he died had placed the hand of his
nieco within the grasp of Edward Demarlon,
and bade them live together upon his bounty,
lie had no family of his own, and to Isabel he
left all his property ; but it was with the un
derstanding that Edward should manage it for
her, and be her companion for life. Though
there was deep sorrow in the loss of so kind
and generous an uncle, yet there was joy in
the thought tlittt she had now a uoblo and af
fectionate husband.
GEN. WM. WALKER AND NICARAGUA.
From the Harrisbitrg Telegraph.
The latest arrival from Nicaragua brings to
this country the intelligence that peace will be
shortly made between Walker and his enemies;
that his affairs are in niost.a flourishing condi
tion, and that a large number of recruits from
New York, New Orleans and California have
been added to his forces. There now remains
but little doubt that he will be able to perma
nently establish himself and his followers in
that country, and retain possession of the Gov
ernment. Settlers have been invited from all
parts, and free farms offered to them. The de
cree of 1824, abolishing Slavery; has been re
pealed, and the importation of Slaves into Ni
caragua is solicited. The soil, the climate
and the productions such as rice, sugar, cot
ton and tobacco are suitable to Slave labor,
and this is held to be necessary for the pros
perity of the coantry, and the full development
of its rich resources. A large quantity of the
landed property, which belonged to the native
inhabitants, has been confiscated to the use of
the Government. Pierre Soule has purchased
one of the confiscated estates, and a number of
the remaining estates will be purchased by
Southern Slaveholders, oi by capitalists who
are willing and able to purchase Slaves to
stock them. If the futuie may be judged by
the past, there will bean attempt made to an
nex Nicaragua during the administration of
James Buchanan. The attempt to annex it to
this country may be postponed until the eve of
another Presidential election. Ihe question
of the extension of Slavery will then be used
to elect Judge Douglas President, and will ag
itate the' country from the Atlantic to the Pa
cific from Maine to the Isthmus of Danen.
The South will present, as in the late election,
an undivided front, and the North will bo dl
Tided Into two parties, Pro-Slavery and Anti
Slavery. A large portion of the Northern
TVmfwracv will act with the South. John
Randolph declared that the South was as sure
of the Northern Democrats as she was of her
own negroes, j Our large Atlantic cities will
We their voUs, money and influence to aid
Miis alliance of the Southern Slaveholding Ar-
Vtocracy and ;he Northern Democracy, com
pecd of officj-bolders, ofliee-hunters, ignor
ai and narrow-minded partisans, Roman Cath
oltGermans jnd Irish; gamblers, grog-sellers,
anl the obscene rabblement, whom they influ
ence. "Property is sensitive and trade is tim-.
id." Thread made by the South against the
business an breeches-pockets of the mer
chants of ouNorthern cities, , will at once
frighten then into a coalition with the most
corrupt andancorous demagogues of theDem
ocratic partji
As, in alfprobability, Gen. William Walker
will be a conspicious person in the history of
the events of the next four years, and will be
the first Senator elected from the State of Ni
caragua, e condense a biographical sketch of
him from a New Orleans p per, the Louisiana
Courier. The writer of tlie sketch has been
ciu-,j Wh neiu talker from his child
hood, and lias given some imeicswug (tamtu
Iars in regard to his relatives, his life and his
personal appearance
William Walker was born in Nashville,
Tennessee. His father was a Scotch-man,
from Glassgor.-, . or its neighborhood. The
name of his mother was Norvell. She was a
native cf Kentucky, aud was a sister of John
Xorvell, once United States Senator from Mi
chigan. . John Norvell was a gentleman of tal
ent, high character and pleasant and agreeable
manners.. He was a lawyer and politician.
He was appointed a Judge, was elected to the
United States Senate, and was appointed U
S. District Attorney for Michigan by Gen.
Zachary Taylor. Judge Norvell had a son in
the U. S. Aim', Captain Spencer Norvell, a
most accomplished gentleman, and he had a
daughter married to a Capt. Miller, of the U--S.
Army. When on a visit to Niagara Falls it
was repotted that his daughter had fallen or
throwu herself into the cataract. It was soon
discovered that this was not true, but that she
had eloped with a paramour. Her paramour
and her place of concealment was unknown
but her conduct killed both her farther aud
her brother. In less than a year after she e
loped her paramour deserted her, and she re
turned home to Detroit to seek the protection
and solicit the mercy of her afflicted family
She found an empty home and two graves, one
filled with her heart-broken father, and the oth
er with her gallant brother. They were too
high strung to survive the disgrace she had
brought upon her family. These unfortunate
persons were the uncle and first-cousin of Gen
eral Walker, of Nicaragua.
William Walker has received a liberal edu
cation. At school and college he was taciturn
and studious. He was very proficient in the
mathematics and exact sciences. After he
graduated at the University of Nashville, he
went to Edinburg, and graduated in the Medi
cal school of that city. He then went to Par
is, attended a course of lectures on the medi
cal science, and afterwards traveled through
parts of Middle and Southern Europe. On his
return to Nashville, he found that neither his
taste nor his temperament fitted him for the
practice of medicine, and he then emigrated
to New Orleans, studied law and was admitted
to the bar. He did not succeed in the profes
sion. He then connected himself with the
Crescent Dewspaper; and devoted himself with
great earnestness and zeal to the labors of ed
itorial life. This experiment was also unsuc
cessful, and he emigrated to California. He
was for a while connected with the Press in
California, and for some time practiced at the
bar. ' Collecting around him a band of adven
turous and restless men, he made a descent in
to, and attempted the conquest of, the Mexi
can province of Sonora. He was beaten in
some engagements with the Mexicans, and
driven back into California. Although his ex
pedition failed, yet it is admitted that Walker
displayed courage, fortitude and heroism, in
the midst of great hardships, difficulties and
dangers. Civil war broke out in Nicaragua.
Walker collected as many followers as ho
could, sailed for that country, and joined one
of the pirties. The party he joined was vic
torious, and they owed their victory principal
ly to his assistance. By degrees he has made
himself sole ruler of the country. The native
rulers have been deposed, banished and shot.
Conspiracies against him have been detected
and suppressed. Extensive confiscations of
property have been made, and domestic foes
and foreign invaders beaten in several decisive
battles. A treaty was made by him with this
country and diplomatic relations established.
It is positively affirmed that there can be no
doubt that he will maintain his position and
power against any force the Central Americans
can bring against him, while the great and ra
pid immigration faom the United States will
secure him against any danger from France
and England.
Gen. Walker is now about thirty four years
of age. - His stature is' diminutive ; his hair
whitish.; his-eyes grey ; his cheeks -and the
"portion of his face round his eyes covered
with freckles j1 and his whole countenance
tame and unprepossessing. lie talks through
- (aha rf
his nose in a sine-song, monotonous i
voice, and his manners are constrained and
awkward. Although his exterior is not prom-
sing, yet it is said that Walker possesse s stern
determination and undaunted courage. These
qualities are quite consistent with bad exteri
ors; for all have read, or heard, of the coarse
features,"clc-wnis" person and big copper nose
of Oliver Cromwell, and we ar all familiar
with the long visage, Iantcrn jiws and erect
bristles of Gen. Jackson. In temperament
and mental disposition Walker is prone to be
fanatical- If born and educated in the West
of Scotlandhe might have been a bigoted
Presbyterian or oovenanier, wuuna io pi-iai.-
cute any one who doubted the doctrine of pre
destination, or denied the orthodoxy of the
Solemn League and Covenant. Born and ed
ucated in the South, he is a manifest-destiny
man, willing to denounce, tar, feather, shoot
or burn anyouo'wbo disputes the docttine
that Slavery is a blessing, and most anxious to
extend , its blessings, and the dominion ot
Southern Slaveholders, over the West Indies
and Central America. "Verily, the earth is
the Saints', aud the fullness thereof-"
THE LATE CONTEST.
l ne lollowmg at not, r, . o.o Philadelphia
Sun, of the 21th November, we give to show
what others, who stand prominent in the -V
merican party, thiuk of the position occupied
by the different sections of the Opposition in
the recent Presidential contest in Pennsylva
nia. It should be remembered that the Sun
is one of the oldest and most reliable Ameri
can papers, not only in this State, but in the
Union, and has for the last twelve years been
battlinz foreisnism and Catholicism in the
most determined manner :
THE EVIL AXD TI1E REMEDY.
The Democratic party never had to contend
against greater odds, and never made a more
narrow escape from defeat than in the late cam
paign. Never were its leaders more startled
from their propriety than when they saw, grad
ually more and more clearly, as the returns of
the election came in, the magnitude f the
peril the" had escaped. Never was Pennsyl
vania-more important to them, and never did
they congratulate themselves so much upon
their partisan skill, as they have over the tact
they displayed in dividing the opposition vote
in the Keystone State and in New Jersey, in
the late contest. They were aware they had
two parties to contend with, but they had no
idea that those parties, had they been united
could have brought so overwhelming a numer
ical force to overcome their trained bands, and
render futile all their best-conceived plans.
They were aware that to carry a candidate, j
whose nomination was the dictate of'policy and
not the spontaneous choice of the hearts of the
people, but, on the contrary, was bitterly op
posed by the Dallas section of their own party
in this State, though a hollow truce had been
temporarily-patched up would be a difficult
task against a well tried statesman, who had al
ready won laurels in public estimation, and a
young giant of intellect, indomitable perseve
rance and courage at the head of a host whose
battle cries were the thrilling notes of freedom
and the rights of free labor. They felt all this
but they had no idea that the idrugglc would
be so fearful, their escape so narrow. And, in
fact, de-feat would have been their lot an o
verwhelming defeat even to the exhaustion of
recuperative power, had the American leaders
of the Pennsylvania oppo.sitiou, and that of
New Jersey, been true to their trust ; had they
fully understood their duties'; correctly appre
ciated the comparative strength of the two par
tics; had they duly informed themselves of
the position occupied by the American party
in the South, or heeded the proofs daily given
them of the determination of the people to de
cide the contest at the ballot-box; had they
adopted the only course which will ever secure
them a victory over the wiley and unscrupu
lous spoilsmen with whom they have to deal.
Could they not see that there was no more than
the ghost of a chance forFillmore in theSouth,
as clearly as tho South saw there was not even
that chance for him in the North ? Cbuid they
not read, and reading learn, from the courie of
the Democratic press, if from no other source,
that they were aiding and comforting tho very
party they were called upon, by every obliga
tion, to defeat, at all costs and hazards ?
Three parties were in the field. 1st. The
Democratic party, catering to the fears, preju
dices and passions of the South by its endorse
mcnt of the policy ol the Pierce administra
tion on the sul ject of Slavery in the Territo
ries, to the lower passions of both North and
South by tho countenance it extended to fili
bustering schemeSjWhich offered to all the vag
abonds of the country an idle life of plunder
and dissipation in Cuba and Central America,
and evincing its sectional bias and control.aud
its selfish aims and hopes, by the promulgation
of a platform embodying all the political de
baucheries of Calhounism, and in all that "ob
vious import" against which Mr. Madison pro
tested, the doubtful orthodoxy of the Virginia
aud Kentucky resolutions of 1792 and 1798.
2d. The Republican platform was an echo of
the views of all true conservatives North and
South, an embodiment of the opinions of Jef
ferson and of all the great nursing fathers of
our institutions, from Washington to Van.Bu
ren, and of Mr. Fillmore himself whose pur
poMt and aims were strictly legitimate, and
whose nationality would have been endorsed
bv Jackson, as they were by Blair and Ir.gham.
d. The American party, aiming at the resto-
ration of that Compromise policy, wnicn uaa
so often reconciled the' North, preserved tho
ntcrity and honor of the South, and dittusetf
the blessings of peace and concord over tho
Union a party which presented to the suffra
ges of the people, a candidate whose antece
dents were such as to make him an unexcep
tionable umptre.to whom to refer the question
of sectional agitation, which through the a-
rocious villainy of that reprobate arch-traitor
to political truth, honor and integrity Doug-
as and the pusillanimity and mismanagement
of Pierce had been ruado the prominent issue
in the contest a party which, deprecating ths
commitment ot the balance ol power in our
elections to the foreign hands to whom it bad
been consigned by the Democracy, called up
on the country to throw around the purity of
the ballot box such safeguards as would sccuro
to a just majority of the people at the polls
their rightful weight and influence in the gov
ernment of the nation. . .
Now what was the view, which every mera'
"looker on in Vienna," which all, who wero
not involved as agents for cither party, in tho
contest, took of the plan of the campaign ?
Could any sane man have cvsn dreamed that
either Fillmore or Fremont could bo elected inr
a bona fide iriangular contest I Could any
reasonable idea be formed of the contest other
than jthis that Mr. Fillmore was nominated
for the South, acd Mr. Fremont for the North?
The South was not represented in the Repub
lican Nominating Convention, and though
the platform was truly national, it was clear
that it would be maligned as a sectional one.
It was apparent that the great issue was the
question of the extension of slavery into tha
Territories, that Americanism, though evident
ly approved by the Republicans, could not l:v
except as an ally in the North, and that the
contest was between the Douglas and Pierco
aspect of Calhoun Democracy, aided by a lor
eigu vote, and the Fremont interpretation of
Jacksonian Democracy, aided by the forcet of
the American organization ; and it was clear,
that properly united, and using their strength
judiciously aga:nst the former, the latter com.
bination would triumph, to the mutual advan
tage of both interests, or that if the worst
came to the worst, the election would be re
turned to Congress, where the Buchanan party -would
be utterly powerless. It is true that
doubts and fears were felt and entertained by
the enthusiasts of the hour among us as to tho
position the cause of Americanism would hav
occupied in case of Fremont's election ; but
let it have been what it might, its prospects
would have been sunshine compared with the'
dim twilight which now bewilders our view.
But on the other hand, if the election had
been returned to Congress, the American par
ty, if in the minority, as it expected to be,
would still have a chance for the election of
Fillmore, and could at all events have had it
in its power to save the Vice Presidency from
Breckenridge. Surely the success of the op
position could have been secured, and Ameri
canism have lost less than it has, as the caso
now stands.
In the field was Fillmore,- who, whatever
might be his personal views and feelings, had
nevertheless, while in office, succeeded in con
ciliating all parties to the great issue. It is
well known how he had voted in 183S, and af
terwards during his whole congressional ca
reer, on matters connected with the celebrated
21st rule, and it was not forgotten that he had
signed, when President, the Fugitive Slavo
Law, only in obedience to the doctrines on th
subject of the veto power of the platform on
w hich he had been elected. Straight Fillmore
men complain that the Republican party did
not unitejvith the American on him. They
could have done so on Mr. Fillmore's record,
and their principles would have found a sup
porter in him, beyond all doubt. But it will
be remembered that Mr. Fillmore was nomina
ted on an exclusive platform of Americanism,
and that the Nominating Convention had by
their action distinctly ignored the Free Soil
sentiment, aud repudiated all interference with
the question of slavery extension, and all re
buke of the course pursued by Pierce, and had
kept feilent in regard to our foreign relations,
and all the great questions f important do-
mestic interest, such as the Pacific Railroad.
Mr. Fillmore might readily have been endorsed
by the Republican party, but he had already
been killed in the houso of his sponsors in po
litical baptism. While as a man and slates
man placed at the bar of public opinion with-,
out a platform, he could certainly have proven. .
himself the most acceptable of candidates;
yet nominated on a platform of pure and ex
clusive Americanism, he was beyond the reach "
of chances, even in the minds of a large mass
of American voters, who remembered that
when he had enjoyed the amplest opportuni
ties he had essayed nothing for the good of
the cause which had dQno to much for Taylor
and himself iu 1848. It is not to be wondered
at then that Fremont was nominated on a plat
form which responded more fully to the feel
ings of the North, and which, while it con
tained nothing objectionable except t Diap ;
unionists of the Abolition- class in the North '
and fire-eating conspirators or the sarao cban
acter in tho South, was one which any on
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