•? 
 
 Recollections of Public Men. 
 
 '••H^|i> — 
 
 DeWOLF. 
 
Recollections of Public Men: ^ 
 
 A PAPER 
 
 Read hefork the Chicago Historical Society, 
 
 November iStii, iSSi, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM F. DeWOLF, 
 
 CORRESrONDING MEMBER OK THE CHICAGO HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 FERGUS PRINTING COMPANY. 
 1882. 
 
iSc\ 00 b 
 
 7.(0 
 
 
 
■N. 
 
 :9 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF PUBLIC MEN, 
 
 It is impossible to relate personal recollections without 
 making a free use of the first personal pronoun ; and I hope, 
 therefore, that it will not be considered egotistical if I now 
 and then appropriate one on this occasion. Trusting that I 
 shall not do as Gov. Kinney of St. Clair County, once accused 
 Gov. Edwards of doing, z>iz.: using all the ''great Fs tip!'' 
 
 In the year 1820, when about nine years old, I had the 
 great honor and satisfaction of being introduced to John 
 Adams — the signer of the Declaration of Independence — the 
 renowned patriot who, when he signed that great State paper, 
 uttered these immortal words: "The die is now cast. I have 
 passed the Rubicon; to sink or swim — live or die — survive or 
 perish with my country is my unalterable determination. It 
 is my living sentiment; and, with the blessing of God, it shall 
 be my dying sentiment. Independence now and Independ- 
 ence forever." 
 
 My grandfather, the late John Marston of Massachusetts, 
 having been an active participant in many of the stormy 
 scenes of the Revolution, but few years younger than Mr. 
 Adams, and a near neighbor, was on terms of intimacy with 
 him, so much so, indeed, that I have heard they dined together 
 on Saturdays for nearly thirteen years. Their repast on such 
 occasions being boiled codfish — the Saturday dinner of New 
 England fifty years ago. 
 
 My parents being on a visit to my grandfather, had taken 
 me with them; and, while in Quincy, my father was invited 
 to visit the venerated sage. I was permitted to accompany 
 him. Mr. Adams was then about ninety years old, and though 
 frail in body, was active and prompt as to his mental powers: 
 I shall never forget his appearance as he received his visitors. 
 He occupied an old-fashioned New-England easy-chair, such 
 
as I never saw out of New England, and seldom out of Mas- 
 sachusetts. Its ample width, high back, and comfortable arms 
 appeared large enough to hold two, were it necessary; cov- 
 ered with a simple but attractive chintz, it seemed the very- 
 seat for an old man to take his rest. He still retained much 
 of that manly beaut}' and dignity of manner for which he was 
 remarkable in }-outh. After my father had been presented, 
 and some considerable conversation had passed between the 
 elder visitors, Mr. Adams called me to his side, and, taking 
 my hand in his, affectionately held it while continuing con- 
 versation with my fatlier, saying very little to me till we were 
 about to depart. He then asked me some simple questions, 
 and among the rest: — "Where do you go to school, my son.^" 
 I answered, I had nc\er been to school. Apparently, with 
 some surprise, he continued, "but you know how to read.-'" 
 I replied, "Yes, sir. " and he added, "spell, write, cipher, and 
 some geography.''" "Yes, sir." "Who taught you.**" he in- 
 quired. The reply was, "wj/ mother^ He laid his wrinkled 
 and flabby hand on my head and, in tones which still fill my 
 ears, said, "God bless all our mothers." The lines of a long- 
 extended old age were written on his brow, but there was a 
 peacefulness in his looks that made an impression on me, even 
 at my then early age, which I can never forget. 
 
 But a few years after, on the 4th of July, 1826, he passed 
 away. His last words being, "Independence forever!" He 
 died on the anniversary of that day of which he said in a let- 
 ter to Mrs. Adams, "I am apt to believe that it will be cele- 
 brated by succeeding generations as the great anniversary- 
 festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliver- 
 ance, by solemn acts of devotion to God iVlmighty. It ought 
 to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, 
 sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end 
 of this Continent to the other, from this time forward for ever- 
 more." Mr. Adams lived to see his countr)' full high advanced 
 among the nations of the earth. His son, a President of our 
 Republic. His ambition gratified, and fully aware of the love 
 and respect of his countrj-mcn. A grandson has since repre- 
 sented our Nation at the most important court of Europe; 
 
while his great and great-great grandchildren arc handing 
 down to the third and fourth generations, his name, fair and 
 untarnished. Thus far, up to this time, his youngest descend- 
 ant may look back through a long line of illustrious ancestry 
 without blot on their name or stain on their escutcheon. 
 COMMODORE CHARLES MORRIS. 
 It was once my good fortune to hear Commodore, then 
 Capt. Morris, of the U. S. Navy, relate at my father's table 
 an account of the battle of the U. S. frigate Constitution, 
 often called "Old Ironsides," with the British frigate Gucrriere, 
 fought on the 3d day of August, A.D. 18 12. The Constitu- 
 tion was commanded by Capt. Isaac Hull; Lieut. Morris 
 being the next officer in command. It is said that when the 
 American came in view of the British ship, Capt. Dacres, in 
 command of the latter, called his men together and made 
 them a speech, such as he thought would inspire them with 
 the courage wanted for the occasion. "My men," said the 
 bold Briton, "there comes a Yankee Uroger, fresh from the 
 West Indies, loaded with rum, lemons, and molasses. I will 
 give you twenty minutes to take her, and then we shall have 
 plenty of blackstrap on board." As the ships approached 
 each other, but when yet some miles apart, Capt. Hull retired 
 to his cabin, saying that not a gun must be fired until he came 
 on deck and gave the orders. When at long distance, the 
 Gucrriere commenced discharging her cannon, and as each 
 successive explosion took place, our men grew more and more 
 excited and eager for the conflict. At last some of the ene- 
 my's shot struck our rigging, and our tars muttered because 
 no orders to fire were heard. Very much excited himself, 
 Lieut. Morris went below and said, "Capt. Hull, I fear I can 
 not restrain my men. The shot from the enemy are begin- 
 ning to tell." The old commander rose slowly from his table 
 where he had been preparing some despatches, and taking the 
 Lieutenant by his arm, walked up the cabin-stairs, saying as 
 he went, "when we can see the third roll of her copper, we 
 will let her have it." As they reached the deck, the Guerriere 
 was seen in the near distance; her flags and streamers waving 
 in fehe wind ; an occasional gun being discharged ; and every 
 
6 
 
 preparation made for a deadly conflict. The Constitution had 
 been cleared for action. The men were standing by their guns 
 panting for the fight, and straining their longing eyes toward 
 the officers for the coveted command. At this moment, the 
 British frigate rose proudly on the crest of a wave, and as 
 she settled, rolled up the third streak of her copper. The 
 order to fire was given, and in thirty minutes Dacres struck 
 his flag, and soon after came on board of "Old Ironsides," 
 wounded though he was, to tender his sword. Capt. Hull 
 complimented him on his gallantry and bade him retain the 
 weapon which he could wear so gracefully. 
 
 I can not forbear quoting here the lines of Holmes, written 
 when there was a talk of selling "Old Ironsides" for a mer- 
 chantman: Rather 
 
 "Nail to the mast her holy flag, 
 Set every threadbare sail, 
 And give her to the god of storms, 
 The lightning and the gale!" 
 
 As a Rhode Islander, I remember with pride, Tristam Bur- 
 ges, who represented his State in Congress from 1826, some 
 three or four terms. He vv^as a man of fine classical educa- 
 tion. Eloquence, wit, and poetry were at his command; and 
 as the Rhode- Island Bar of his day; and as Randolph of 
 Roanoke, McDuflie of South Carolina, Hardin of Kentucky, 
 and Cambreleng of New York, were made to feel that wit 
 was like the piercing of a lancet. The Bible, Shakespeare, 
 and the ancient classics, were at his tongue's end ; and select- 
 ing the gems, he scattered them with a lavish hand. Owing 
 to the peculiar contour of his face and the loss of hair he was 
 called the bald eagle of the House; and well did he tower in 
 his pride of place, fearing no mousing owl to hawk at and 
 bring him down. 
 
 With your permission, I will relate a political anecdote or 
 two of Mr. Burgcs. While Mr. Randolph was our minister 
 at St. Petersburg in 1830, his conduct was severely criticised, 
 and by none more severely than by Mr. Burges, in a speech 
 before the House. Mr. Cambreleng of New York, defended 
 Mr. Randolph, and indulged in bitter invective against the 
 
old eagle. He praised Mr. Randolph in the most extravagant 
 manner, and wound up by saying, "Mr. Speaker, when we 
 last heard from our minister in Russia, he was sick nigh unto 
 death; perhaps, while we are discussing the question before 
 the House, he may be in his grave, and, if so, I trust he may 
 be suffered to rest there in peace, undisturbed by the prowl- 
 ing hyena or the bald vulture." He then went on with an 
 eloquent panegyric, saying, "the illustrious minister would be 
 remembered and cherished in the hearts of his countrymen 
 when his assailants and traducers were forgotten." The speech 
 of the New -York statesman was one of the most withering 
 pieces of invective sarcasm and irony Mr. Burges ever had 
 to contend against. But he was equal to the occasion. In 
 the course of his reply he exclaimed, "Mr. Speaker, the gen- 
 tleman is as much out in his ornithology as in every thing else. 
 It is not the vulture but the bird of Jove that is remarkable 
 for his baldness, and when, sir, was the eagle, towering in his 
 pride of place, hawked at and brought down by a mousing 
 owl.^ I am not the first man who has been reviled for his 
 baldness and grey hairs. Better men than I am have been 
 reviled by men no better than he is. He whom we love to 
 name the father of his country, the immortal Washington, 
 was called a hoary-headed incendiary; Elisha, the prophet of 
 God, coming home from the mission of his maker, streaming 
 all over with the light of heaven, was followed by boys who 
 cried, 'go up, thou bald-head.' And what was done with them, 
 Mr. Speaker.^ Why, they were given to those animals that 
 feed on offal." It is said some members were obliged to turn 
 to their bibles before they could fully understand the orator. 
 He continued: "The gentleman says that our Minister at 
 Russia will be remembered by his constituents. Sir, I doubt 
 not he will be remembered — he will be remembered when 
 many better Virginians are forgotten ; he will be remembered 
 when perhaps even the gentleman himself is forgotten; he will 
 be remembered like the years of blight and mildew, while the 
 years of plenty are forgotten." Then, referring to Mr. C, he 
 added: "It has been said that what a man lacks in wit is often 
 made up to him in hair. There will be no necessity for this 
 
.8 
 
 House to imitate a Roman senate and vote the gentleman 
 from New York wherewith to cover his head. Nor is every 
 man to be counted a Cjesar, who happens to have a wart on 
 his nose." If it was rather rough to pounce upon his prey 
 in this style, we must remember the mode of attack to which 
 he had been subjected. 
 
 For readiness at repartee few men were his equal. A mem- 
 ber of the House, opposed to him in politics, after his reply 
 to Cambreleng, in going down the steps of the Capitol, said 
 to him: "Burges, I had rather fall into the Devil's hands than 
 yours." "Very likely," said the old man, "you are on better 
 terms with him." At one Session, Mr. Burges arrived late at 
 Washington and found all the best seats in the Hall of Repre- 
 sentatives taken. . The only seat he could secure was disitant 
 from the Speaker. Mr. Pierce, his colleague, was also his 
 political opponent. On one occasion, Mr. Pierce was indulg- 
 ing in some severe remarks concerning Mr. Burges. The 
 venerable old representative rose and said: "I will thank the 
 gentleman, my colleague, to speak a little louder, I find it 
 difficult to hear him." Several of the political friends of Pierce 
 at once, half- rising in their seats, cried out, "Why, Mr. 
 Speaker, we can hear him" — intimating that Burges did not 
 want to hear. He at once replied, "Mr. Speaker, their ears 
 are longer than mine are." 
 
 Perhaps no man could call another an ass in more unex- 
 ceptional terms than did Mr. Burges, Mr. Daniels of Ken- 
 tucky. Illustrating by the story of Baalam. Burges had made 
 a speech on the tariff and was replied to by Barbour of Vir- 
 ginia and Daniels of Kentucky. Mr. Barbour was one of the 
 most polished gentlemen and respected statesmen of his day. 
 Mr. Daniels was a very able but rough congressman, even in 
 his time. Mr. Barbour answered Mr. Burges in the most 
 unexceptionable manner, with a suaviter in modo only equalled 
 by the force of his argument. 
 
 Mr. Daniels continued the debate, dealing sledge-hammer 
 blows at the head of his antagonist. When he came to reply, 
 Mr. Burges compared the wit of his opponents in this way — 
 "One was like lopping off a limb with a butcher's cleaver, the 
 
9 
 
 other like the piercing of a lancet which was felt not till it 
 reached the heart-core." He then took up the argument of 
 Mr. Barbour and answered it in a masterly manner. Mem- 
 bers crowded round his chair, and the senate chamber was 
 left without a quorum, so eager were all parties to hear the 
 "eagle scream," as a paper of the day had it. He compli- 
 mented Mr. Barbour not only for the ability developed, but 
 for his manners, which the speaker said, in the words of Earl 
 Chesterfield, "most adorns knowledge and smooths its way 
 through the world." After a speech of three hours in which 
 he answered Mr. Barbour, he disposed of Mr. Daniels in this 
 way, "Mr. Speaker, I shall not reply to the gentleman from 
 Kentucky. His speech was neither more or less than the 
 braying without the inspiration of a philosopher of the same 
 school that once rebuked a prophet of antiquity." Mr. Bur- 
 ges was a ripe scholar. Some of his compositions are among 
 the choice specimens of our Country's literature. To show 
 how the moral may be illustrated by a comparison with the 
 natural world. How the passions and the winds, the clouds 
 and the melancholy of each are alike dark and tumultuary, 
 let me quote still another passage from one of Mr. Burges' 
 most powerful efforts. In his endeavors to sustain the tar- 
 iff of 1828, he had aroused the energetic opposition of Ran- 
 dolph, McDuffie, Cambreleng, and a host of less distinguished 
 men, who aided each other and hung upon him in the most 
 annoying manner. It was on this occasion that he uttered this 
 eloquent and highly poetical description. Those familiar with 
 the character of the members of the House in those days, will 
 perhaps see how he made use of his knowledge of Natural 
 History. He began: "Mr. Chairman, he who has been at sea, 
 knows that the inhabitants of that region sport only in foul 
 weather. In the sunshine and the calm, when the world of 
 water is level and unmoving, every tenant of the ocean is still 
 and in repose. At such a time, if any cloud give promise of 
 more than gentle airs, and the winds and the waters begin to 
 hold controversy, then, suddenly, the whole population of the 
 mighty realm is at once awake and in motion ; not only the 
 nimble dolphin gives his bright eye and dazzling side to the 
 
10 
 
 sunshine; but the black, uncouth porpoise breaks above the 
 water, and flounces and spouts and goes down again. The 
 foul cormorant stretches his long lean wings and soars and 
 sucks, piping shrill notes to the restless waves. The haglet 
 and the cutwater spring into flight, and, dashing over the 
 white crests of the lofty billows, scream their half-counter to 
 the deep base of the mighty ocean." 
 
 Mr. Burges died at an advanced age, full of honors. He 
 left but one child, a son, who gallantly laid down his life for 
 his country in the late unnatural war. It was my good for- 
 tune to have a classmate in college who was a favorite nephew 
 of Tristam Burges, now a distinguished Judge of the supreme 
 court of Rhode Island. Many a pleasant hour have I passed 
 in his company, both at the city residence and at "What 
 Cheer," the country-house of his venerable uncle. "What 
 Cheer" was the hailing welcome which an Indian gave Roger 
 Williams when the latter was flying from his persecutors in 
 Massachusetts. It was uttered by the savage just before 
 Williams gained the western shore of the Seekonk River, 
 where he laid the foundation of the first real Republic known 
 to man. To use the words of the immortal Lincoln, "A 
 government of the people, by the people, and for the people." 
 
 Every Rhode Islander and descendant of Rhode Island 
 remembers with pride the names of William Hunter, James 
 Burril, and Asher Robbins, distinguished senators of Little 
 Rhody. Mr. Hunter was one of the most commanding men 
 that ever rose to address the Congress of our country, and his 
 classic eloquence did not disappoint the expectations aroused 
 by his personal attractions. Robbins, though lame and some- 
 what diminutive in person, was a fine speaker, and was 
 esteemed the best Greek and Latin scholar of his day in Con- 
 gress. To show the truth of the old adage, 
 
 "A little nonsense, now and then, 
 Is relished by the best of men," 
 
 I will relate an anecdote that Mr. Robbins loved to tell. He 
 had one leg much shorter than the other, and when he walked 
 he would rise up to six feet in height and at the next step 
 sink to five feet six. On one occasion, as he was coming 
 
11 
 
 down the parade in Newport, two jolly tars, just paid off, and 
 feeling merry after a long voyage, were heard by him to say 
 one to the other, "Jack, give the poor fellow a dollar; he has 
 many ups and downs in this world." As I have said, it pleased 
 the old senator, and he was fond of relating the story. 
 
 Of Mr. Burril, it is told, that when about to arise for the 
 first time to address the Senate, his coat caught beneath his 
 chair, prevented and brought him back suddenly to his seat. 
 A senator in opposition said, loud enough for Mr. Burril to 
 hear, "a bad omen." At once recovering himself, and casting 
 his eye in the direction of his adversary, he quoted the words 
 of Cato, "I fear no omen in my country's cause." He was 
 one of the most eloquent and finished men that his State ever 
 produced, but he died soon after being chosen to the Senate, 
 and a bright, intellectual light was extinguished, too early for 
 his own fame. 
 
 LEVI LINCOLN OF MASSACHUSETTS. 
 
 Governor Lincoln was a noble man, the son and brother of 
 such men as Massachusetts and Maine, in the olden time, 
 chose for their highest officials. Like the Adamses, his des- 
 cendants look back through a long line of illustrious an- 
 cestry. Of him it might be said in words of Dryden: "His 
 tribe were God Almighty's gentlemen." His home was the 
 abode of genuine hospitality, made lovely by all the endear- 
 ing charms of true refinement. I shall never forget the 
 time when I once saw him on horseback in company with 
 General Jackson and his cabinet, reviewing sixty thou- 
 sand troops on Boston Common. Among many of the 
 best-appearing men in the Nation, he rode the peer of the 
 best. Here I may add that Gen. Jackson was considered 
 one of the best horsemen of his time; some of his mighty 
 deeds of valor were done in the saddle. Col. Forney says of 
 him, that it has been said he literally rode into the presiden- 
 cy. At the time I saw him on Boston Common, surrounded 
 as he was, and passing through the immense throng of his 
 admiring citizens, he reminded one of the description given 
 by Shakespeare of Bolingbroke's entrance into London: 
 
12 
 
 "The crowd was cheering, 
 Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, 
 Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, 
 Bespake them thus, — 'I thank you, countrymen': 
 And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along." 
 
 In the year 1832, I had the pleasure of meeting at the man- 
 sion of Gov. Knight in Providence, R. I., some famous men: 
 Daniel Webster, Willie P. Mangum of North Carolina, Felix 
 Grundy of Tennessee, Martin VanBuren, George M. Dallas, 
 and others. Mangum and Dallas were, in addition to their 
 intellectual standing, possessed of commanding personal man- 
 ly beauty. 
 
 In 1832, I had the honor of being one of what was then 
 called Henry Clay's infant-school. This school, in the form 
 of a National Young Men's Convention, consisting of some 
 five hundred young men from all parts of the Union, met at 
 Washington to confirm and ratify the nomination, then lately 
 made at Baltimore, of Henry Clay and John Sargent, for 
 president and vice-president of the United States. We voted 
 informally that any man not over thirty-six years of age was 
 2i yoiiJig uiaii. I remember thinking we were rather stretching 
 the matter, but, after battling the storms of life some fifty 
 years, I can remember Hon. William Cost Johnson of 
 Maryland, our president, as a much younger man than he 
 looked to me then. At this period, tjie country was very 
 much excited. Not only the great questions of the day, such 
 as the tariff, the American system, the United States Bank, 
 and others, were on the tongues of every one, but the cabinet 
 of Gen. Jackson had been rent in twain by his determination 
 to sustain Mrs. Gen. Eaton against a like determination, on 
 the part of certain wives of some of his ministers, not to recog- 
 nize her. Mr. Calhoun, then vice-president, the senators from 
 South Carolina, and those from Mississippi, having with- 
 drawn at least in part from the support of Gen. Jackson, were 
 acting in concert with Mr. Clay and Mr. W'ebster on all Na- 
 tional questions, controlling the Senate by a vote of 26 to 20. 
 I have said the Nation was excited. None, but those w^ho 
 remember the period of which I speak, can fully realize the 
 
13 
 
 extent' of that excitement. The speeches of public men were 
 reported at length and spread broadcast over the country 
 (singular as it appears to me) to a much greater extent than 
 now. There were giants in those days, and when such men 
 as Clay, Calhoun, Webster; Bates and Benton of Missouri; 
 Bell of Tennessee; Burges of Rhode Island; and McDuffie 
 of South Carolina, shook their gauntlets at each other, the 
 whole country stood on tiptoe with their ears open, ready to 
 take up and prolong the sentiments of their favorite states- 
 men. My letters of introduction were to Mr. Clay, Mr. Web- 
 ster, Mr. Calhoun, John Ouincy Adams, and Gen. Jackson, 
 and others of distinction. I remember them all with pleasure, 
 especially Clay, Calhoun, and Jackson. The two latter had 
 known my relatives, and made my calls upon them delightful 
 from the easy gracefulness with which they received and en- 
 tertained an unknown young man who had no claims upon 
 them. Of Henry Clay, my recollections are pleasant beyond 
 measure. He asked me a thousand questions easy for me to 
 answer, showing a consideration for my youth and inexperi- 
 ence. The next morning, when I visited the senate-chamber, 
 he caught sight of me, left his seat, met me in the most cor- 
 dial manner, took me to the Library of Congress, showing me 
 every attention of which I am sure I was not deserving at that 
 early age. Thus his manner, founded no doubt in real kind- 
 ness, was the key with which he unlocked the hearts of men, 
 and won their lasting friendship. It was my good fortune to 
 hear Mr. Clay in one of his masterly fights of eloquence. It 
 has been called the snufif-box scene. It was a scene in which 
 the vice-president- — Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Clay were the actors. 
 I dare not trust myself to describe it. On the part of Mr. 
 Clay, it was the perfect illustration of Webster's definition of 
 eloquence — it was action. Godlike action — or as Milton has 
 described it, was like 
 
 "That resistless eloquence which 
 Wielded at will that fierce Democracie, 
 Shook the arsenal and fulmined over Greece, 
 To Macedon and Artaxerxes' throne." 
 
 Besides the three great statesmen, Webster, Calhoun, and 
 
14 
 
 Clay, the Senate was graced with men not much inferior to 
 the great triumvirate. John Holmes of Maine, Isaac Hill 
 of New Hampshire, Bates and Benton of Missouri, and Poin- 
 dexter of Mississippi were of the illustrious body. Just pre- 
 vious to the time of which I am speaking, John Holmes had 
 left the Democratic party. There had been, it was jocosely 
 said, a political firm, what we should call now a ring, I sup- 
 pose, composed of John Holmes, Isaac Hill, Felix Grundy, 
 and the Devil. While Mr. Holmes was making one of his 
 characteristic speeches, in which he ridiculed his former party, 
 some senator, in a good-natured way, asked him if he still 
 held any interest in the old firm. Holmes replied that as for 
 himself he had withdrawn, but, casting a glance toward Mr. 
 Grundy, added, "I am happy to believe that the remaining 
 partners are doing a thriving business." 
 
 Coming down to later times, I change the scene to the 
 West. Here, in Illinois, in 1835, I met a brilliant phalanx of 
 young men just marshalling for the battle of life. I remem- 
 ber them with mingled feelings of pleasure and sadness. A 
 few still linger on the stage of action. Not superfluous, but 
 in their green old age, still fighting in the ranks or retired in 
 honor from the field. Many have joined the innumerable 
 caravan which moves 
 
 "To that mysterious realm where each doth take 
 His silent chamber in the halls of death.'' 
 
 As I think of them they seem to pass before me in review, 
 
 "And so by some strange spell, the years, 
 
 The half-forgotten years of glory, 
 That slumber on their dusty biers, 
 
 In the dim crypts of saddening story 
 Awake with all their shadowy files 
 
 Shape, spirit, name — in death immortal; 
 The phantoms glide along the aisles, 
 
 And ghosts steal in at yonder portal." 
 
 There were Lincoln and Douglas; Hardin and Baker; Shields 
 and Bissell. There were Norman B. Judd, Newton D. Strong, 
 Henry Eddy of Shawneetown, Lamborn, and the unfortunate 
 but highly-gifted Lindcr. Who can recur to those times with- 
 
15 
 
 out in memory listening to the ornate declamations of Samuel 
 Lisle Smith; the classic eloquence of McDougall; the fine 
 business talent of Samuel Snowden Hayes; the fiery denun- 
 ciation of Lovejoy; the cogent arguments of Tracy; the 
 ingenious efforts of John J. Brown; the legal accumen of 
 Spring and Manniere ; or the wit of Butterfield and Meeker. 
 Alas ! they have all gone by. Lincoln, he who had reached 
 the highest round on the ladder of political distinction; Doug- 
 las, who had but one more step to take before reaching the 
 same lofty height; Hardin, who poured out his blood on the 
 plains of Mexico ; and Baker and Mulligan, who died in the 
 defence of the liberties of their country. The last-named 
 uttering, with almost his last breath, the immortal order, 
 "Lay me down and save the flag!" 
 
 These men, in company with thousands, laid down their 
 lives that we might live. They have all gone by, and their 
 memory lives to teach us that all earthly things await alike 
 the inevitable hour. 
 
 "The paths of glory lead but to the grave." 
 
 I could here recall to your recollection many distinguished 
 men, who, like Pope and Thomas and Breese, shed lustre 
 upon the bench, th'e bar, and the councils of the State and 
 Union. But I shall leave them alone in their glory. 
 
 Before closing, I must mention the name of one who in an 
 unostentatious way became a benefactor of his nation. It was 
 my privilege to know, and from my business relations with 
 him during almost four years, to admire his kindness of heart; 
 his probity of character, and ability of mind, united to ambi- 
 tious hope and determination to achieve an honored name. 
 I mean the late George Buchanan Armstrong, founder of the 
 present postal mail-service of the United States, whose monu- 
 ment may be seen within the grounds of the new post-office. 
 The highest post-office officials of Great Britain have testified 
 in writing that his w-as the most complete system of postal 
 service known. It was original with Mr. Armstrong, and dif- 
 fers fundamentally from the systems of Europe. He was the 
 great-grandson of George Buchanan, a distinguished Scottish 
 poet, and cousin of President James Buchanan. He died of 
 
16 
 
 over-exertion and severe mental application in trying to bring 
 to perfection the system which was the pride of his life. 
 
 " 'Twas thine own genius gave the final blow, 
 And helped to plant the wound that laid thee low; 
 Thus the struck eagle, stretched upon the plain, 
 No more through rolling clouds to soar again, 
 Viewed his own feather on the fatal dart. 
 And winged the shaft that quivered in his heart." 
 
 Since the foregoing was written, the name of Ambrose 
 Everett Burnside has been added to the roll of the glorious 
 dead. I met him daily during the last summer in my native 
 and Jiis adopted town. He appeared to be the possessor of 
 robust health and manly beauty. In Jiis case, the order of 
 emigration was reversed. He left his birthplace in the far 
 West and turned his face toward the rising sun, to settle on 
 the shores of the Atlantic. Gallantly did he honor the name 
 of Rhode Island. Twice did his adopted State acknowledge 
 her debt of gratitude by making him her governor; and twice 
 did she confer upon him the high honor of senator in Con- 
 gress. Suddenly was he called from the peaceful scenes of his 
 romantic home on the shores of the Narragansett to join the 
 sad caravan through the pale realms of death. But we know 
 that his knapsack was slung, and that when the drum beat he 
 was ready to march. Sleep, soldier, sleep. "No sound shall 
 awake thee to glory again." 
 
 But our friends and countrymen though dead are not for- 
 gotten. Like 
 
 " Patriots they toiled, and in their country's cause 
 Served nobly; and their deeds, as they deserve, 
 Receive^ proud recompense. We give in charge 
 Their narnes to the sweet lyre. Th' historic muse. 
 Proud of Win treasure, marches witli it down 
 To latest times; and Sculpture, in her turn. 
 Gives bond in stone and ever-durjng brass 
 To guard them, and t' immortalize her trust." 
 
 Fergus Printing Company Chicago. 
 
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 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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