BY DAVID OVER.
MOM AX'S LOVE.
IV hen man is waxing frail,
And his hand is thin and weak
Ami his lips are parched and pale.
And wau anil white hi i cheek ;
Oli then doth women prove .
tier constancy and love I
She setteth by his chair,
And holds his feeble hand
She watclieth ever there,
His wants to understand.
His yet unspoken will
She hasteneth to fullill.
She leads him when the moon
Is bright"over dale and hill,
And all things save the tune
Of the honey-bees are still.
Into the garden bowers,
Tc sit midst herbs and flowers.
And when lie goes not there,
To feed 0:1 breath ami bloom,
She brings the posy rare
Into his darkened room ;
Ami 'neath his weary head
The pillow smooth doth spread.
Until the hour whore death
His lamp of life doth dim,
She never wcarioth
She never lea vet h him
Still near him night and day,
She meets his eye always.
And when his trial's o'er
And the turf"s on his breast,
Deep in her bosom's core
Lie sorrows unexpressed,
Her tears, her sighs are weak,
lier settled grief to speak.
And though they may arise
Balm for her spirit's pain
And lhut. ii her quiet eyes
May sometimes smile again;
Still, still, she must regret :
Slie never can forget!
i WOl Li) WED Fi)2i TKPE LOVE.
IJY Til OS. i\ HTZSUI.MO.NS.
1 would not wed for beauty,
for beauty will decay;
1 would not wed for ichvs,
For riches waste awjj;
1 would not wed for splendor,
for times may sadly change;
But 1 wuM wed for true love,
to soothe my aching pains.
I'd, 1 woulu tved for true love,
'1 Liu joy of every heart—
It soothes the dying pillow
When loved ones yon must part,
it soothes the dying pillow
When to rest with the lov'd ones you'd
fain,
And breath a hope into the soul
in heaven to meet again.
Lady, 'tis not because thou'rt handsome
That 1 do love tiiee so,
But tis because thou'rt faithful
To the heart that's true to you;
And if my hopes upon this earth
Can never be realized,
A vision sjieaks that !t will again
Beyond the deep bine skies.
Ethan Allen in Captivity.
Among the episodes of the Revolution
.rv war, none is more strange than that ot
the queer genius, Ethan Allen. In Eng
land, the event and the man being equally
uncommon, Allen seemed to have been a
curious combination of a Hercules, a Joe
Miller,a Bayard and a Tom Ileycr. ile had
a person "like the Belgian giant, mountain
music like a Swiss, and a heart pluuip as
Coeur de Lion's. Though born in New
England, be exhibited no traces of her
character, except that his heart beat wildly
for his country's freedom. lie was frank,
bluff, companionable as a harvest.
For the most part Allen's manner while
in England was scornful and ferocious in
the last degree, although qualified at times
by a heroic sort of levity. Aside from the
inevitable egotism relatively pertaining to
pine trees, spires and giants, there were,
perhaps, tw '° special, incidental reasons for
the Titanic Vcruiontcr's singular demeanor
abroad. Taken captive wbtle beading a
forlorn bope before Montreal, he was treat
ed with inexcusable cruelty and indiguity.
Immediately upon his capture, be would
have been deliberately butchered by the In
dian allies in cold blood upon the spot, bad
he not with desperate iutrepidity availed
himself of his enormous physical strength
by twitching a British officer and using him
lor a target, whirling bun around and round
against the murderous tomahawks of the
savages. Shortly afterwards, led into the
town, fenced about with the bayonets of the
guard, the commander of the enemy, one
Col. McCloud, flourished his cane over his
captive's head, with brutal insults, proniis
'ng him a rebel's halter at Tyburn. Lur
ing his passage to England in the same ship
wherein went passenger Col. Guy Johnson,
the implacable Tory, he was kept heavily
ironed in the hold, and in all respects was
tieaten like a mutiueer; or it may be, rath
er as a lion wf Aria, which, though cagedj
IV is too Irea lful to behold without fear and
A Weekly Paper, Devoted to Literature, Politics, the Arts, Sciences, Agriculture, &c., &c—Terms: Two Dollars per annum.
trembling. And no wonder, at least, for on
one occasion, when chained hand and foot,
he was insulted by an officer. With his
teeth he twisted off the nail that went
through the mortise of his handcuffs, and so
having his arms at liberty, challenged the
insulter to mortal combat. Often when at
Pedannis castle, when no other revengemeut
was at hand he would hurl on his foes such
a howling tempest of anathemas as fairly
shook them into retreat. Prompted by
somewhat similar motives, both on shipboard
and in England, be woule often make the
most vociferous allusions to 'J'iconderoga
and the part he played in its capture,
well knowing that of all the American names
Ticonderoga was, at that period, by far the
most famous and galling to the English
men.
Israel Potter, an exile American, while
strolling around Pedennis Castle, where Al
len was confined, chanced to hear him in
one of his outbursts of indignation and
madness, of which the following is a speci
men:
"Brag no more, old England; consider
that yon are only an island! Order tack
your btokon battalions, and repent in ashes.
Ismg enorfgh have your hired tories across
the sea forgotten the lxird their God, and
bowed down to llowe and Knipbausen—the
Hessian. Hands off, redskinned jackall!
Wearing the King's plate, as I do, (mean
ing, probably, certain manacles,) I have
treasures of wrath against you British.'
Then came a clanking as of chains, many
vengeful sounds, all confusedly together.
Then again the voice.
'Ye brought me out hero, from my dun
geon to this green,affronting yon Sabbath
sun, to see how a rebel looks. But I'll
show you how a true gentleman and chris
tian can conduct himself in adversity.—
Back dogs! respect a gentleman and a chris
tian though he be in rags and smell of bilge
water. Yes, shine on, glorious sun, it is
the same that warms the hearts of my
Green Mountain boys, and lights np with its
rays the golden hills of Vermont.*
Filled with astonishment at these words,
which came from a massive wall, including
what seemed an open parade space, Israel
pressed forward, and soon came to a black
archway leading within, underneath, to a
grassy tract, through a tower. Like two
boar's tusks two sentries stood at either
side of the open jaws of the arch. Scruti
nizing our adventurer a moment they sign
ed him to enter.
*
Arriving at the end of the arched way—
whore the sun shone, Israel stood transfix
ed at the seen*?.
Like some baited bull in t'ue ring, crouch
ed tlie gigantic captive, handcuffed as be
fore, the grass of the green trampled and
gored up all about liitn, both by bis own
movements and those of the people around.
Except some soldiers and sailors, these
seemed mostly town's people, collected here
out of curiosity. The stranger was out
la ndishly arrayed in the,sorry remains of a
half Indian half Canadian sort of a dress
consisting of a faun skin jacket—the fur
outside end hanging in ragged tufts—a half
lotten helt of wampum, aged britches ot
sasathy, the darned worsted stockings reach
ing to the knee, old moccasins, riddled with
holes, their metal tags yellow with salt wa
ter rust, faded red woollen bonnet, not un
like a Russian nightcap, or a portentom,
ensanguined full moon, all soiled and stuck
about rotten straw, unsbnven beard, matted
and profuse a? a cornfield beaten down by
hailstones. IJis whole marred aspect was
that of a wild beast, but a royal sort and un
subdued by the cage.
'Aye, stare! stare! you but last night
dragged me out of a ship's hold like a
smutty ticroc, and this morning out of your
littered barracks there, like a murderer—
for all that you may well stare at Ethan
T'condcroga Allen, the conquered soldier,
by You Turks never saw a Chris
tian before. Htare on. I am he who,
when your Lord Howe wanted to bribe a
patriot to fall down and worship him by an
offer of a Major Generalship, and five thou
sand acres of choice land in old Vermont
(ha! three times three for glorious Ver
mont and the Green Mountain Boys! hur
rah! hurrah! hurrah!) lain be, I say, who
answered your Lord llowo: 'You you offer
our land ? You arc like the devil in Scrip
ture, offering all the kingdoms iu the worldj
when the cursed soul had not a corner lot
on earth! Stare on, I say!'
'Look, you rebel you, you bad best heed
how you talk against General Lord Howe,
here,' said a thin, wasp waisted, epaulettod
officer of the castle, coming uear and flour
ishing his sword about him like a school
master's ferrule. 'General Lord Ilowe!
Heed how I talk of that toad-hearted king's
lickspittle of a poltroon, the vilest wriggler
in God's worm home below. I tell you the
hordes of red-haired devils are impatiently
shouting to ladle Lord Ilowe with his gang
—you included—into tbeseethiDgest syrups
of Tophet'B hottest flames '
At this blast the wasp waisted officer was
blown backwards as from the suddenly burst
head of a steam boiler. Staggering away
with a snapped spine, he muttered some
thing about its being beneath his dignity to
bandy forth words with a low lived rebel.
'Come, Col. Allen,' said a mild looking
man, in a sort of clerical undress, 'rospect
the day better than to talk thus of what lies
beyond. Were you to die this hour, or
what is more probable, be hung next week
at Tower wharf, you know not what might
become of yourself.'
'Reverend sir,' said Allen, with a mock
iug bow, 'when uo better employed than
braiding niy beard, I have dabbled a littlo
in your theologies. And lot me tell you,
reverend sir,' lowering and intensifying his
voice, 'that as to the world of spirits of
which you hiut, though I know nothing of
the mode or manner of that world more
than you do, yet I expect, when I arrive
there, to be treated as any other gentleman
of my merit. That is to say, far better
than you British know how to tieat an hon
est man and a meek hearted christian cap
tured in honorable war, by ! Every
one tells nic, as yourself just told me, as
crossing the sea, every billow dinned in my
ear, that I, Ethan Allen, am to be hung
like a thief. If I am, the Great Jehovah
and the Continental Congress shall avenge
me, while I, for my part, will show you,
even on the tree, how a christian gentleman
can die. Meantime, sir, if you arc the cler
gyman yon look, act your consolatory func
tion by getting an unfortunate christian geu
tleman, about to die, a glass of punch.'
The good natnred stranger, not to have
his religious courtesy appealed to in vain,
immediately dispatched his servant, who
stood by, to procure the beverage.
At this juncture, a faint rustling sound,
as if the advancing of an army with ban
ners, was heard. Silks, scarfs and ribbons
fluttered in the background. Presently a
bright squadron of bright ladies drew nigh,
escorted by certain out riding gallants of
Falmouth.
'Ah,' said a strange voice, 'what a strange
sash, and furred vest, and what leopard like
•teeth, and what flaxencd hair, but all mil
dewed; is that he?'
♦Yes it is, lovely charmer,' said Allen,
like en Ottoman, bowing over his broad bo
vine, and breathing the words out like a
lute; 'it is he—Ethan Allen, the soldier;
now, since ladies' visit him, made trebly a
captive.'
'Why, he talks like a beau in the parlor
—this wild mossed American from the wood'
sighed another foir lady to her mate; but
cau this be he we came to sec? I must have
a lock of his hair.'
'lt is he, adorable Delilah; an l fear not
tlio' excited by the foe, by clipping uiy lock
to dwindle my strength. Give me your
sword, man.' turning to an officer—'ah, I'm
fettered. Clip it yourself, lady.'
'No, no. I am—'
'Afraid, would you say? Afraid of the
sword—friend and champion of all the la
dies, all round the world? Nay, nay, come
hither.'
The lady advanced, and soon overcoming
her timidity,her white hand shone like whip
ped foam among the waves of flaxen hair.
'Ah, this is like clipping tangled tags of
gold luce,' she cried, 'but sec, it is half
straw."
'But the wearer i 3 no man of straw, la
dy; were I free, and you had ten thousand
foes, horse foot and dragoons—how like a
fric i I could fight for you. Come—you
have robbed me of my hair, let uic rob the
dainty hand of its price. What, afraid
again?'
'No, not that, but—'
'I see, lady, I may do it by your leave,
but not by your word—the wonted way of
all the ladies. There, it is done. Sweeter
that kiss than the bitter heart of the
cherry.'
When at length this lady left, no small
talk was had by her with her companions
about relieving the lot of so knightly and
unfortunate a man, whereupon a worthy, ju
dicious gentleman of middle age, in atten
dance, suggested a bottle of wine every day,
and clean linen every week. And theSe the
English women —too polite and too good to
be fastidious—did actually send to Ethan
Allen, so long as he tarried a captive in
their land.
The withdrawal of this company was fol
lowed by a different scene. A perspiring
man in top boots, a riding whip in hand, and
having the air of a prosperous farmer,
brushod in like a stray bullock, among the
rest, for a peep at the giaut—having just
entered through the arch as the ladies passed
out.
'Hearing that the man who took Ticon
deroga was here in Pedenuis Castle, I've rid
den twenty-five miles to sec him, aud to-
BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY, JULY 111856.
morrow my brother will ride forty for the
same purpose. So let me have tbo same
look, sir,' ha continued, addressing the cap
tive, 'will yon let me ask you a few ques
tions, and be free with you?
'Be free with me? With all my heart.—
I love freedom above all things; I'm ready
to die for freedom; I expect to. So be as
free as you please. NY hat is it?'
'Then, sir, permit mo to ask what is your
occupation in life? in time of peace, I
mean.'
'You talk like a tax gatherer,' replied
Allen, squinting diabolically at him. 'What
is my occupation in life? N\ hy, n my
younger days, I studied divinity, but at
present 1 am a conjurer by profession.'
Hereupon everybody laughed, as well at
the manner as at the words, and the net
tled farmer retorted.
'Conjurer, eh? Well you conjured wrong
that time you were taken.'
'Not so wrong, though, as you British
did, that time I took Ticonderoga my
friend.'
At this juncture the servant came iu with
a bowl of puncb, which his master bade him
give to the captive.
'No, give it to me, sir, with your own
hands, and pledge me as a gentleman to a
gentleman.'
'I cannot pledge a state prisoner, Colonel
Allen, but 1 will hand you the punch with
my own hand, since you insist upou it.'
'Spoken and done like a true gentleman;
I am to yon.'
Then receiving the punah into his mana
cled hands, the iron ringing against the
chain, he put the bowl to bis lips, saying, 'I
hereby give the British nation credit for hall
a minute's good usage,' and at one draught
emptied it to the bottom.
'The rebel gulps it dowu like a swilling
hog at the trough,' here scoffed a lusty pri
vrte ot the guard off duty.
'Shame on you,' cried the giver of the
bowl.
♦Nay, sir, his red eoat is a blush to him,
as it is to the whole British army. Tbcu
looking derisively at the private, 'you ob
ject to my way of takiug things, do you? —
I fear I shall never be able to please you.
You objected to the way, too, in which 1
took Ticonderoga, and the way 1 meant to
take Montreal. Selah! but pray, now 1
look at vou, arc yon not the hero I caught
dodging around in bis shirt, in the cattle
pen inside the fort? It was the break of
day, remember.'
'Come, Yankee, here swore the incensed
private, 'cease this, or I'll tan your old
fawn skin for ye with the flat of this sword
for a specimen;' laying it lash wise but not
heavily across the captive's back.
Turning, liko a tiger, the giant, catching
the steel between his teeth, wrenched it from
the private's grasp, and striking ii with his
manacles, sent it spinning like a juggler's
dagger into the air, saying, 'lay your dirty
coward's iron on a tied gentleman again,
and these' lifting lis handcuffed fists, 'shall
I be the beetle of mortality to you.'
The now furious soldier would have struck
him with all his force, but several men of
the town interposing, reminded him that it
was outrageous to attack a chained cap
tive.
'Ah,' said Allen, 'I am accustomed to
that, and therefore I am beforehand with
you; and the extremity of what 1 say
against Britain is not meant for you, kiud
friends, but for my msultcrs present and to
come.'
Then recognizing among the interposers
the giver of the bowl, he turned with a cor
teons bow. saying, 'Thank you again and
again, my good sir; you may not bo the
worse for it; ours is an unstable world, so
that one gentleman never knows when it
may be his turn to be helped of another.'
The soldier still making a riot and the
commotion growing general, a superior of
ficer stepped up, who determined the scene
by removing the prisoner to the cell, dis
missing the townspeople, with all strangers,
Israel among the rest, and closing the castle
after them.
ROMANISTS SWEARING. —In a late
reply to a Roman Cliolie, Brownlow, of the
Knoxville Whig, has the following very sig
| nificant paragraph:
"But one word more about swearing.—
During our Circut Court, some of your
Catholic scavengers were brought into Court
"by Mr. MoAdoc, the Attorney General, to
testify in cases of unlawful gaming and re
tailing of spiritous liquors —they were sworn
upon our Protestant Scriptures, and every
one of them swore lies, by testifying that
they knew just nothingl The Attorney
General then produced a Cathlic Bible,
with a cross on its back—made them ex
amine it, swore ibem on that, and thoy dis
gorged more than it was supposed they knew!
Can Protestants suffer such men to be cal
led into one of our courts to give testimony
against them' Never
HENRY CLAY AND JAMES
BUCHANAN.
Iu giving place to the subjoined article
from the Louisville Journal , we think it
proper to preface it with a narrative given
us by a venerable citizen of this place, who
at the time alluded to, was an active and
earnest friend of Gen. Jackson, and a re
sident of Baltimore city. Ho says, that
when a copy of Mr. Buchanan's letter in
reply to Gen. Jackson' 3 reference to him,
as the witness to prove the charge of "Bar
gain and Intrigue" against Henry Clay,
was received in Baltimore, a coterie of the
leading men of the Jackson party had as
sembled at the office of the Republican, of
which Dabney S. Carr was editor, to hear
the letter read. Mr. Carr read it. A
moment's pause ensued, which was inter
rupted by the remark from William Frick,
Ef|., that "Buchanan's letter don't sustain
Gen. Jackson." Mr. Carr immediately
rejoiued: "By G—! gentleman, we must
say it does sustain Gen. Jackson. Our
success depends upon saying so. The
Washington Globe will be here to-morrow,
(this was before the railroad was construct
ed,) coutainiug an editorial, in which it will
be insisted that the letter fully sustains him,
in every particular, and we must say so too.
I shall say so, iu my leader in to-morrow's
Republican, simultaneously with the Globe."
Our informant says, thai after some further
explanation, it was agreed to put the con
struction on Buchanan's letter, which the
whole democratic party afterwards put on
it, and which Mr. Buchanan suffered it to
bear, to the political ruin of Henry Clay,
for such a long series of years.
It will be observed that iu Mr. Bucban
au's letter to Mr. Letcher in 1814, be dis
tinctly intimates that he did Mr. Clay
"ample justice," in his letter iu answer to
Gen. Jackson," meaning, that that letter
did not sustain Gen. Jackson's charge, and
yet by his silence for a quarter of a centu
ry, he permitted the injurious construction
to operate against Mr. Clay. Out upou
such hypocrisy aud meanness'— Frederick
Examiner.
[From the Louisville Journal.]
Henry Clay and James Lucfinnaa.
NVe hope that what we are now about to
write, will command the attention of all ho
nest and honorable men and especially of
old-line Whigs, the former supporters of
Henry (Jiay and the present reverers of his
memory. The boast lias been made that
the old line NVhigs will as a general rule
support Mr. Buchanan for the Presidency.
NY e shall see.
All of our old politicians have a vivid
recollection of the leading events of the
election of President by the House of Re
presentatives in the early part of 1825. —
Mr. Clay was then a member of the House
and he east his vote and influence in favor
of John Quincy Adams, who was eleeled
over Gen. Jackson and Mr. Crawford.—
Mr. Clay was subseqently selected by Mr.
Adams as his Secretary of State. At a
later period Mr. Clay was charged by his
political enemies with haviug sold his vote
to .Mr. Adams for the Secretaryship, and
wc all know that this cruel aud monstrous
charge, though abundantly refuted in every
form iu which refutation was possible or
conceivable, involved to a great extent, the
ruin of Mr. Clay's political fortunes. But
frr that charge, he would afterwards have
been elected President of the United States
almost by acclamation.
Foremost among those who charged that
Mr. Clay's vote was given to Mr. Adams
011 account of a promise of the Secretary
ship of State was Gen. Jackson. The Ge
neral gave the name of Mr. Buohanau as
his authority for the truth of tiie charge.—
Mr. Buchanan had held a private conver
sation with him on the subject, making such
stateiueuts as left no doubt upon the subject
in the General's mind. In fact the General
did not hesitate to say, after that interview,
that Mr. Buchanan had come to him with
full authority from Mr. Clay or his friends
to propose terms to him in relation to their
votes: that is, to propose to vote for him for
the Presidency, if he would promise office
to Mr. Clay. Of course, Mr. Buchanan
was called on to put into the form of a let
ter what he knew upou the subject, and what
he had stated to Gen. Jackson. He accord
ingly wrote the letter which afterwards be
caiuo famous in the controversy. The letter
was most adroitly written, with a view to
relieve the author from the excessively pain
ful position in which he stood. He dared
not say that he ever had any authority from
Mr. Clay or his friends to propose terms to
Gen. Jackson, yet he carefully so shaped
his language as to afford Mr. Clay's politi
cal enemies a pretext for repeating tue atro
cious calumny against him. He expressed
his own belief of the bargain aud corrup
tion story. He said .
"The fuels are before the world thai Air.
Clay and his particular friends made .Mr-
J]dams President, and Clay Secretary of
State. The people will draw their own in
ference from suck conduct and the circum
stances connected with, it. They will judge
of the 'cvuse from the effect."
Mr. Clay and Lis friends regarded Mr.
Buchanan's letter as exculpating him and
them from the charge of having authorized
Mr. B. to propose terms to General Jackson
in relation to their votes, and so indeed it
did. And yet it was so cunningly written
that the whole of Mr- Clay's political ene
mies throughout the nation considered it
and treated it not as a vindication of the
Kentucky statesman, but as "confirmation
strong" of the truth of the accusation
against biiu. Thus the whole calumny ori
ginated iu Mr. Buchanan's statement to
General Jackson, and, when the author of
the statement was required by Jaokson or
bis organ to write it out in the shape of a
letter, he so performed the appointed task,
as while shrinking from any direct confir
mation of the impression be had previously
given to Gen. Jackson, to afford a pretext
to the whole Jackson party to assail Mr.
Clav as a traitor to his country, and there
was not a Jackson newspaper or a Jack
sen politician in the nation that did
not treat Mr. Buchanan's letter as evi
dence of bargain, intrigue, and corruption
between Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay.
The specific charge, as already stated,
which was made against Mr. Clay, and which
Mr. Buchanan was cited as a witness to
prove, was that Mr. C. had proposed to
make Gen. Jackson President if he himself
could be Secretary of Siate. This charge
involviug the inference that Air. Clay did
vote for Mr. Adams for the promise of the
Secretaryship, was the charge by means of
which the party, that Mr. Buchanan then
acted with and ever afterwaids acted with,
broke down the greatest and host man of his
age. And now. fellow-countrymen, we ask
yu to mark the final development of facts.
The real truth is, that instead of Mr. Clay's
I suggesting to Mr. Buchanan duiing the
pendencv of the Presidential election in
the House of Representatives in 1825 that
he and his friends would support General
Jackson if he could have the Secretaryship
of State under him. Mr. Buchanan himself
actually sought Mr. Ciay, and, in the pre
sence of a third gentleman, explicitly de
clared to him, that iu the event of his vot
ing for Gen. Jackson and the election of
the latter, he would have the Secretaryship.
Mr. Clay's intimate persona! friends often
heard him make this statemout in the after
vears of his life, aud we, with half a dozen
others, heard him say in the Presidential
campaign of 1814 that he would not be
willing to die without leaving it on record.
And lie did uot die without leaving it on
record. Af. w years ago Mr. Calvin Col
ton published the Life of Henry Clay, in
the preparation of which lie visited Ashland
aud had free access to many of Mr. Clay's
private papers, flc devoted a considerable
pnrtiou of his book to the old bargain, in
trigue and corruption story, and Mr. Ciay
wrote out one passage of it with his own
band. That passage was incorporated in
the volume word for word as it eame from
the veuerauie statesman s pen. Lot the
American people read it auJ pouder upon
it. Here it is :
"Some time iu January, eighteen hund
red and twenty-five, aud uot long before the
election of President of the United States
by the House of Representatives, the Hon.
James Buchanan,* then a member of the
House, and aftet wards many years a Sena
tor of the United Slates from Pensylvaniu,
who had been a zealous and influential sup
porter of General Jackson iu the preceding
canvass, and was supposed to eDjoy his un
bounded confidence, called at the lodgings
of Mr. Clay, in the city of Washington.—
Mr. Clay was at the time in tbe room of his
only messmate iu the House, his intimate
and confidential friend, the lion. R. P.
Letcher, since Governor of Kentucky,then
also a member of the House. Shortly after
Mr. Buchanan's entry into the room he in
troduced the subject of the approaching
Presidential election, and spoke of the cer
tainty of the election of his favorite, adding
that he would form the most splendid cabi
net that the country had ever had. Mr.
Letcher asked, how could he have oue more
distinguished than that of Mr. Jefferson,
IB which were both Madison and Gallatin !
Where would he be able to find equally
eminent men? Mr. Buchanan replied, 'lie i
would not go out of the room for a Secrc- '
tary of Bute,' lookiug at Mr. Clay. This
gentleman (Mr. Clay) playfully remarked
toat ho thought there was no timber there
fit for a cabinet officer, unless it were Mr.
Buchanan himself.
"Mr. Clay, while he was so hotly assailed
with tho charge of bargain, intrigue and
corruption during tho administration of Mr.
Adams, notified Mr. Buchauau of his inten
tion to publish the above occurrence, but
by the earuest entreaties of thatgeutlcmau,
he was induced to forbear doing so."
This passage, we repeat, was written by-
Mr. Clay's own hand. Wo learned the fact
from Mr. Clay himself, from Mr. Coltou, and
from an eminently respected relative of Mr.
Clay. The g r c.u Kentackian who had
YOI. 29, NO 28.
bourne the weight of bitter calumny for
more than twenty years, and seen his high
est political hopes crushed and blasted, by
it, did not choose to submit to it longer out
of tenderness to the reputation of an old
political enemy; and the deepest regret felt
by hie. best friends is, that he submitted to
it so long. Mr. Buchanan it appears, might,
wh"u called on for his testimony in 1825,
have testified that Mr. Clay, far from hav
ing signified that he would support General
Jackson for the Presidency in consideration
of the Secretaryship of State, had positive
ly rejected such a bargain, proffered to him
by Mr. Buchanan himself. Whatever of
dishonor, whatever of infamy, there could
be in bargain, intrigue, and corruption, at
tached to Mr. Buchanan. We do not be
lieve that he had any authority from Gener
al Jackson to say what he said to Mr. Clay,
yet he professed to utter fact and not opin
ion. He undertook to assert, as from au
thority, that Gen. Jackson would form the
most splendid cabinet the country ever had,
and that Mr. Clay, if lie should support
him, would be his Secretary of State.
Mr. Clay stated, in the passage he wrote
out for Col ton's biography of him, while
lie was so hotly assailed with the charge of
bargain and corruption during the Adams
administration, he notified .Mr. Buchajjan of
his intcntiou to publish the occurrende iu
question hut was induced by that gentlc
meu'.s earnest entreaties to forbear doing
So. Mr Colton said, in his biography, that
he had understood that several times in
later yeais Mr. Clay had intimated to Mr.
Buchanan that it might be his duty to pub
ltsh the facts, and that he was dissuaded
from it ty Mr. Buchanan. We also know
that Mr. Clay often betweon 1825 and
1845, contemplated polishing the fuets and
was vehemently urged by his political friends
to do so as a matter of justice not merely to
Lis own fame hut to his party, and that he
was prevented only l.y Mr. Buchanan's
entreaties. Gov. Letcher, who was present
at the interview, in January, 1825, and
heard all that passed, was always of opinion
teat Mr. Clay ought to make the publication,
and told him so, but Mr. Clay was long
suffering; and carried his goncrosity too
far.
3lr. Letcher, it seems, aftor the interview
of January, 1825, relieved Mr. Buchanan's
apprehension by the assurance that he
would not publish the facts of the interview
without Mr. Buchanan's conseut. But so
strong and deep was Mr. Letcher's con
viction that the facta ought to be published
that he wrote to Mr. Buchanan upon the
subject, during the great Presidential con
flict of 1844, declaring, however, in his
letter, that he would not violate the pledge
he had originally givou. Mr. Buchanan
replied, depreciating tho publication and re
quiring the observance of the pleugo.—
Thercply was made with Mr. Buchanan's
characteristic cunning, and we give it be
low, entire. One might think, ftom tbe
language of his ictter, that he had no dis
tinct recollectioD .f the conversation with
Mr. Clay it) Mr. Letcher's romn, in Janua
ry, 1825, and yet that very conversation,
exceedingly cmphatieal as it was had been
from the very first and though ail the en
suing years, a matter of the deepest anxiety
and even agitation to Air. Buchanan, who
as Mr. Clay has testified under his own hand,
had earnestly entreated that it might not
be given to the world. Here is Mr. Buch
anan's letter to Mr. Letcher:
Mr. Buchanan to R. P. Letcher.
LANCASTER, June 27, 1814.
My DEAR BIR: I this moment received
your very kind letter and hasten to give it
an answer. I cannot perceive what good
purpose it would subserve Mr. Clay to
publish the private and unreserved conver
sation to which you rofer. 1 was then his
ardent frieud aud admirer; aud much
this ancieut feeliug still survives, notwith
standing our political difference siuce. 1
did him ample justice but no more than jus
tice, both in my speech on Chilton's reso
lutions and in my letter iu answer to Gen.
Jackson.
1 have not myself any very distinct re
collection of what transpired iu your room
nearly twouty years ago, but doubtless 1
expressed a strong wish to himself, as 1 had
done a huudred times to others, that he
might vote for Gen. Jackson; and it he de_
sired it, become his Secretary of State.—
Had voted for General m ease of his elec
tion, I should most certainly have exercised
any influence 1 might have possessed to ac
complish this result; and this I should have
dona from the most disinterested, friendly
and patriotic motives.
This conversation of mine, whatever it
may have been, can never be brought home
to Gen. Jackson. I never had but one con
versation wi'h biiu oa tbe subject of the
then peudiug election; and that upon the
street, and the whole of it verbatim ti lit*