E 392 .W72 Copy 1 EULOGIUM ON THE LIFE AND CHARACTER GEN. WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, XATE PRESIMNT OF THE UNITED STATES; DELIVEIIED BEFORE •THE LEGISLATURE OF PENKSYLVAN'IA, ON THE C'4th APRIL, 1841. BY THOMAS WILLIAMS, ES< Senator from Ailcgiicny Couiily. HARRi«BURG-. ELLIOTT & M'CURDY, PRINTERS IS 41. Class. -E^^iia, Book. TL GEN. W.H.HARRISON /^, J^ /^Oym.'i^^^iT^t^ E U L O G I U M LIFE AND CHARACTER OP %'-^ GEN. WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, LATE PRESIDENT OP TKE UNITED STATES: DELIVERED BEFORE THE LEGISLATURE OF PENNSYLVANIA, ON THE 24th APRIL, 184t, tev THOMAS WILLIAMS, ESQ., Senator from Allegheny County, 1 y^'\-i OF cdAr,?>S^ '■■ ■ -'"■, -.-, - '' liARRlSBURG: ELLIOTT & M'CURDY, PRINTERS. 1S41. I.i> EULOGY, Senators asd KEPRESENXAf ives : It is no common task which your partiality has assigned mc. It is no common event which has assembled us together. To me belongs not now the grateful theme which stirs the public pulse on some high festival commemorative ofthb glorious past. No joyous ceremonial — no inaugural fete is this which has Ihis day gathered' the representative majesty of the people of Pennsylvania within this hall. The emblems of woe are around Us ; a nation is clad in the habilaments of mourn- ing, and the voice of wailing and lamentation is heard upon every breeze. The head of this great republic, the elect of this mighty peo- ple, the idol of a nation's hopes, called so recently from his retirement to preside over the destinies of this glorious sisterhood of States — the soldier, the statesman, the sage, the patriot HARUisojf is no more ! Yes ! the illustrious man, who but yesterday on the steps of the Fede- ral Capitol, tmdcr the shadow of our national banner, and in the pres- ence of the assembled thousands who were congregated together from the remotest extremities of this broad land to witness the sublime spec- tacle, pronounced the solemn vow of fealty to the Constitution, and invoked the Ruler of the universe to attest the sincerity of the pledge which he then gave, has already laid down the high commission with which he was invested, and with it all the symbols of command, and yielding to the summons of Omnipotence with the same cheerful sub- mission with which he has ever obeyed the calls of duty here, has been translated from the scene of his responsibilities on earth, to the scene of a higher responsibility in heaven. The silver chord has been loosed ; the tongue which was then elo(|Ucnt of truth is now mute forever, even while its last echoes are yet lingering upon the ear ; the eye which then kindled with the inspirations of an exalted patriotism is already sealed in eternal sleep ; and the heart which then throbbed with tlie deepest anxiety for a nation's welfare is forever at rest. The pageant and the procession — the nodding plume — the gallant array — the bray- ing of the trumpet and the trampling of the horse have passed away : the high hope, the animated pulse is gone : the curtain of death has descended over the spirit-stirrmg scene ; the idol of that day — "the cynosure of ail eyes," — '" the observed of all observers," is already gathered to his fathers, and those who swelled his triumphal cavalcade as it moved in the direction of the capitol, have in one short month been again summoned to follow in silence and sadness, and with down- cast eyes the sable hearse which conveyed his mortal remains to " the house appointed f!:)r all the living." What a change is here? How sudden, how abrupt the transition from sunlight to gloom ! Who is in- sensible to its influence? Who hath not realized in this melancholy reverse the nothingness of all human pomp — the stern and startling admonition which it conveys ? Who hath not felt the warm current of life turned backward to its source by the earthquake shock which has suspended the general pulse of the nation, and hushed even the temp- est of pafty into repose? Who hath not been subdued by the com- mon calamity which has made us feel that we are men, and has at the same time reminded us that we are the children of a common country, into a momentary forgetfulness that he had ever been a party-man? Who does not feel that such a loss, at such a time and under such circumstances is indeed a national bereavement ? Who does not mourn over it as a national calamity ? The venerable man whose loss we so deeply deplore, though nominated by a party, became by the choice of the nation and under the forms of our Constitution, the President of the people. It is not too much to say of him that he possessed the confidence of that people in a higher degree perhaps than any individual living. It is equally true that to his long experience, his tried integrity, and his exalted patriotism, they looked for deliver- ance from the many cmbarrasments which now surround them. They imd the assurance at least in his past life of inflexible honesty and up- right intention. Whether his administration of the affairs of this great nation would have realized in all respects the high wrought expecta- tions of those who had garnered up their hopes in him is not now the question. It is enough that the people trusted iiim. The loss of such a man in any great national extremity and before he has enjoyed the opportunity of testing his adaptation to the wishes and wants of those who have conferred upon him their highest honors is always a public calamity. But it is not merely as the head of this great nation that we are as- sembled to pay our solemn tribute of aflection to the memory of the distinguished dead. He has other and earlier and perhaps higher titles to our regard. The last and greatest of your gifts, was not merely a payment in advance for services hereafter to be rendered. It was richly earned., before it was bestowed. It was but the tardy aclcnow- ledgment of a long arrear of toils and sacrifices, the crowning re- ward of a protracted and laborious life expended in the service of the the country, in the protection of its infant settlements, and in the ad- vancement not more of its happiness than its renown. The name of Harrison has long adorned the brightest pages of our country's his- tory, and those who live beyond the mountains will bear me witness when I say that there at least for more than five and twenty years it has been equally embalmed in story, and immortalized in song. The individual who addresses you is old enough to remember the time when that name was as familiar to the ear of childhood as a nursery talc, for often has he heard the western mother hush her infant with the ballad of the Prophet's fall, or tell her listening boys that their father or their brethren were out under the gallant Harrison on the perilous fron- tier. Many years have now elapsed since it was publicly affirmed of him by one who has enjoyed a large share of the popular honors, a gallant soldier himself, who bears upon his body in numerous scars the honorable and enduring testimonials of his own devotion to the country, that " the History of the West was Jda History." And what a history is that? Surely no pen of ancient chronicle has ever told, no fiction of the poet ever framed a tale which will compare in interest with that which records the early struggles of the founders and defen- ders of that mighty empire which has sprung up like enchantment upon our western border, and is still stretching its ample wing and pouring its living tides in the direction of the setting sun. To hav» been associated with those struggles so intimately as to have becomtf a part and parcel of such a history, were distinction enough to have secured to any man a deathless name. No conqueror ever reposed in a prouder mausoleum than this ; no loftier monument has ever risen, either at the bidding of ambition, or under the afiectionate hands of public gratitude to the founder of a dynasty or the defender of a throne. The pyramids of the Egyptian kings themselves shall moulder into dust before the early records of that fair and happy realm, or the names of those gallant spirits who led their forefathers through the wilderness shall perish from the recollections of that mighty people who are now diffusing themselves in myriads over its surface and arc destined one day to be multitudinous as the stars of heaven, 'i'he his- tory of that wondrous realm is now the history of the broadest and fair- est portion of our Union. x\nd so too is the whole life of its defender Haruison. The last Cow years have given to its tales of stirring in- cident and startling peril an interest of a still broader and more dif- fusive character, and twined its thrilling and romantic narrative of border achievement more intimately than ever with the lasting glo- ne«>of our common land. But they have only brought out into bold- er relief the rich memorials ofa most eventful lite which lie scattered in bountiful profusion through many a page of that narrative. A large portion of that life has been already written, and the Muse of History now stands ready to fling her rainbow tints over its illuminated close. She has already told how the warrior and patriot has lived : she will now tell how the patriot could die. I will not encroach on her pro- vince. Mine is the humbler task of delineating with a hurried hand, the mere outline of a long and eventful career, and of pointing out a few of those elevations swelling most boldly above the level of ordinary life, on whose summits the sunlight of renown will linger long after the shadows of many generations shall have settled upon the plain. Bear with mc then while I endeavor to perform this task and suffer me also to gather, as we proceed, from the richly enamelled field which lies in shade an occasional offering for the fresh grave of the departed Chief. Half a century ago a stripling boy of the tender age of eighteen years arrived in the town where we are now assembled, bearing the commission of an Ensign in the armies of the United States, and on his way to join the gallant but ill-fated St. Clair on the north-western frontier. There are those lingering amongst us yet who remember the fragile frame but manly port of that chivalrous boy, who, nursed iqi the lap of aflluence and elegant refinement, had disdained the inglo- rious remonstrances of his elders and forsaking friends and family and all the luxurious ease and indolence of home, had taken upon himself the soldier's vow, and dedicated his life to the dangerous service on which he was now about to enter. That boy was no other than William Henev IIaurison, the subject of the present sketch, the future Com- mander of our armies and the future President of the United States. The scion ofa noble stock, pointing for his pedigree to the imperisha- ble charter of our independence — a broader and a prouder patent than the hand of a crowned monarch ever gave — and numbering amongst his kindred many of the most distinguished men of the Revo- lution, but without any other patrimony than his own good sword, a finished education and an immortal name, he had just abandoned the study of a peaceful profession for which he had been carefully prc- pared, and was now on his way to seek his fortune in the western wil- derness. The ardor and determination which animated the boy niay b3 inferred from an anecdote which is relatedof him by one of his ear- Hcst biographers. He had just been despatched by his father to the city of Philadelphia, for the purpose of pursuing his studies under the direction of the best medical professors of the day, and had been placed by him under the immediate guardianship of the celebrated Robert Morris. The death of that parent which occurred whilst he was on his journey, and was soon after followed by the information that his estate had been greatly dilapidated by his services and sacrifices in the war of the Revolution, left him almost entirely without resource. But he was not without friends. The son of Benjamin Harrison could not want a friend where the compatriots of his father v/ere around him. A lucrative office in the Department of State was tendered to him by his kinsman Edmund Randolph, then acting Secretary, which he de- clined. His high spirit would not stoop to ent the bread of dependence ; his ambition was awakened, and his thoughts were now turned in an- other direction. He repaii-ed at once to the great chief who had been the friend of his father, and Avas now at the head of the Cxovernment, and solicited a commission in the north-western army. General Washington hesitated, referred to his extreme youth and drew an ani- mated picture of the hardships and dangers of the service which he was seeking. The ardor of the boy was not to be repressed ; the commis- sion was promised. The fact was however immediately communi- cated by Washington himself to Robert Morris, and no sooner known to the latter than a messenger was despatched at once in pursuit of his wayward ward, with an intimation that he desired to see him. Young Harrison suspecting the object, flew immediately to the War ofHce, took out his commission, subscribed the necessary oaths, and then ap- peared before his guardian, when he was assured that constraint and remonstrance would be alike unavailing. He was now the soldier of the Republic, and it was with that commission in his pocket that he had set out to join the north-western army. The hazards of that enterprize can scarcely be appreciated at the present day. At the period of which I speak the whole of that vast region west of the Ohio which now composes tlie great States of Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Missouri and Michigan, and comprises within its limits a population equal to that of the old thirteen during the war of the Revolution, was nothing but one vast, unbroken, howling wilderness, tenanted only by wild beasts or still wilder men, and 8- sleeping in the universal silence which had brooded over it since the creation. From Pittsburg west, far, far beyond the mountain cradle of " the father of waters" — beyond even the sources of Missouri's mighty flood — throughout an untravelled and almost illimitable wild over which scarce any thing living, save the wing of the adventurous eac individual who now addresses you has heard a por- tion of the details of that eventful day from one who fell upon that bloody field pierced through the lungs by a musket ball, and still mi- raculously survived to bear his personal testimony to the unshrinking valor of his young comrade and companion in arms. He saw his lofty plume dancing along the front of the battle — he witnessed him hurrying from rank to rank cheering the faint and rallying those who wavered, and he heard the clear tones of his clarion voice ringing above the din of the battle, as he communicated in every direction the orders of his commander. J The victory of the Maumec humbled the savage tril^es, secured the surrender of the frontier posts, and terminated the war in the treaty of Greenville. Our young adventurer, then advanced to the rank of a Captain, was left by General VVayne in the command of Fort Wash- ington, where he remained until 1797, when finding that the country 11 no longer required his services in the capacity of a soldier, he resigned his commission in the army, and was immediately thereafter appoint- ed Secretary and ex-officio Lieutenant Governor of the North Wes- tern Territory. He was not, however, permitted to remain long in that position. — The admission of that Territory to a representation on the floor of Congress, was the signal for his translation to a different sphere. His extraordinary merits and great personal popularity indicated him at once to the people of that region as the individual who, above all others, was best qualified to represent their vast and varied interests, and in obedience to the general voice he took his seat in the year 1799 as their first representative delegate in the councils of the nation. The period of his civil service was not less distinguished or success- ful than his career as a military man. He had already rendered the most important aid in conquering the fair realm with whose interests he was now intrusted from its native lord ; he was now about to per- fect his title to the gratitude of the West by conquering it once more from the wild dominion of nature herself by opening up a highway for the emigrant, and peopling its vast but unproductive solitudes with a great family of freemen. The policy of the General Government in regard to the public lands had been of such a character as to retard their settlement and growth by dividing them into tracts of three or four thousand acres only, and thus placing them beyond the reach of the poor but meritorious settlers. The first public act of their new Representative was the introduction of a Bill to effect a radical change of that system by reducing the amount to three hundred and twenty acres. The zeal and ability and eloquence of its advocate secured its passage, and the principle has been still further extended under subsequent administrations. Its results are before us in the teeming population and giant power of the yet infant West. Other conquerors have made a desert where they found a Paradise and erected their sceptres o'er unpeopled realms where the very verdure had already fled from the blasted and bloody heath before the dun hot breath of war. It was the boast of Atilla that no blade of grass ever grew beneath the fiery hoof of his war-horse. It is the glory of Harrison that his far-reaching sagacity has " made the solitary places glad," unfurled the standard of civilization in the wilderness, and founded an empire where he found a solitude. If his career had ended here, he would have been richly entitled to the eternal gratitude of the West. He has lived long enough to feel that it remembered the hand which had 12 nursed it into strength, and long enough to reign with undivided sway- over the hearts of its people- But his services did not end here. The division of the immense district which he represented and the erection of the new Territory of Indiana furnished a fresh occasion for the exhibition of that confi- dence which had placed him already in the Councils of the Nation. The choice of the Executive concurring with the wishes of the people again invested him with the high functions of a Territorial Governor. The region over which he was now called to preside, extending as it did at one time from the straits of Mackinaw to the Gulf of Mexico — from the frozen Lakes of the North to the orange groves of Ivouisiana, comprised a province such as no Roman Pra:;tor — no Lieutenant of the Cffisars, had ever governed in tlie proudest days of the Roman empire. The powers entrusted to his hands were almost equally un- limited. The highest attribute of sovereignty, the enactment of laws — the appointment of all officers and magistrates, military as well as civil — the supreme command of the militia — the distribution of his ex- tended jurisdiction into Counties and Townships, and the general su- perintendence of the affairs of the Indian Tribes who were restless and impatient of restraint, were but a few of the imperial prerogatives which v.-ere conferred on him. To all these vast powers were added by Mr. Jefferson the authority of a General Commissioner to treat with the Indian tribes, under which he negotiated not less than thir- teen important treaties, and effected the surrender of more than sixty millions of acres of land by its savage proprietors. The manner in which he executed this high trust, larger in many respects than any which had ever been delegated to any one man in this country, and therefore extremely susceptible of abuse, may be inferred from the fact that the commission which he professed to hold only under the will of the people, was renewed from time to time at their earnest and unanimous request by Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madison, until it was merged at last in the command of the North Western Army. But he wielded no idle sceptre. He was the military as well as civil head of the Territory over which he presided, and he had a coun- try to defend as well as to govern. The vast region which had been committed to his charge was in a great measure a wilderness, with here and there only a white inhabitant, but swarming with the rem- nants of many a hostile tribe, smarting under the recollection of past conflicts and ever readyto wreak their implacable and undying hate upon the white man by carrying devastation and dismay into the set- 13 tlements. Nor was the border warrior less prompt in repairing such injuries whenever the opportunity occurred to him. The causes of irritation were frequent; the ancient and impressible feud between the red and white man flashed up into hostilities at every accidental collision, and if the incendiary torch descended upon his home the blood of the savage smoked as an expiatory offering over the embers of the white man's dwelling. To keep down these feuds and to afford full protection to the settler while he practised entire forbearance and uniform conciliation towards the savage, was the delicate and difficult task which was assigned to him by the General Government. He succeeded for a long time in holding the balance between them and preserving the peace of the settlements without forfeiting the confi- dence of either, and while he secured the affections of the pioneer, his kindness and impartiality propitiated the good will, while his firmness and courage overawed the turbulence and repressed the predatory habits of the Indian. But the long smothered fire industriously fed by the money and the emissaries of Great Britain, at length flamed out into an open rupture. The prospect of an impending outbreak with that country redoubled the activity of its agents, and the dark and portentous cloud of savage warfare began to gather and blacken on the Western horizon. The gigantic plan of a confederation of all the North Western tribes for the purpose of re-conquering the Territory which they had lost, was set on foot by a leader of great enterprize and sagacity and of un- common valor, in the person of the famous Shavvanese Chief— the renowned Tccumthe. With him was associated a brother of less ability but of no less distinction and of perhaps more commanding in- fluence, who was generally designated by the title of the Prophet, be- cause he was so esteemed throughout all the tribes. Under the aus- pices of these two men the scattered elements of discontent and mis- chief were gathered together at a place of common rendevouz on the Wabash, near the mouth of the Tippecanoe and known afterwards by the name of the Prophet's town. But the wary eye of the Governor was upon them, and at the first symptom of threatened disturbance arising out of the Treaty which he had negotiated at Fort Wayne with several of the tribes, in the absence of Tec^mthe himself, he despatched a messenger to invite him to a conference. The Chieft^ain came, not unattended as was agreed, but with a formidable escort of no less than four hundred armed warriors in his train. The meaning of such an attendance 14 could not be mistaken. But the Governor was not to be intimidated. He met the savage chief and listened with calmness to his complaint. No soonerhowever had he replied than Tecumthc for all answer fiercely ejaculated, " it is false," and on the instant, as though by some precon- certed signal, his followers started to their feet and brandished their war-ckibs while he continued to address them in their own language with great rapidity of enunciation and equal violence of gesture. — The crisis was a fearful one, but the self-possession and intrepidity of the Governor were fully equal to the occasion. Though unattended but by a handiul of guards he rose with dignity from his seat — coolly drew his sword— rebuked the perfidy of the Indian, and ordered him to withdraw at once from the settlements. The conference was bro- ken up in confusion, and the savages, overawed by the gallant bear- ing and manly determination of the Governor, withdrew without fur- ther disturbance. On the following morning Tecumthe apologized for the affront, and solicited a renewal of the conference, which was granted. It took place, but without any favorable result, and a few days after its termination, the Governor still anxious to conciliate the powerful Chief, repaired in person to his camp attended only by a single interpreter. The savage was surprised ; be could not but res- pect the courage of his enemy, and he received him with kindness and courtesy, though without receding from the determination %vhich he had previously announced, of disregarding the treaty and maintaining his ancient boundary. The story sheds so strong a light upon the character of Harrison that I have felt it to be my duty to give it a place in the present narrative. In the meantime, however, the breath of the coming tempest which had been so long gathering in the horizon, began to agitate the leaves of the forest, and the low muttering of (he distant thunder to be heard in the settlements. The war-belt — the fiery cross of the red man — was passing through the wilderness, and in obedience to its summons the warriors of the wilds were thronging to the standard of the Shaw- anese Chiefs. The indications were now so apparent of a grcat pre- concerted movement and a general rising among the tribes, that the Governor of Indiana, whose sagacity on such occasions was never at fault, admonished of the necessity of taking early and vigorous mea- sures for the suppression of the evil, was induced to seek, and obtain- ed permission from the General Government, to break up the encamp- ment on the Wabash, which was the general rallying point of the dis- afiected, and where it was understood that more than a thousand 15 warriors v/ere already collected and under arms. With a force of about nine hundred men composed of the militia of his Territory, a detachment of regular troops and a small but gallant band of Kentucky volunteers, but with his hands tied by a positive instruction to avoid hostilities, except in tlie last resort, he accordingly commenced his fnarch on the 20th of October, 1811. His commission was exceed- ingly delicate and difficult. His mission was peace ; his only privilege in the face or a savage enemy who might select his own time and place for an attack, was the humble privilege of self-defence when- ever he might be assailed. When he arrived within a few miles of the Prophet's town, he sent in a flag of truce in pursuance of his in- structions, for the purpose of opening a negotiation for a treaty of peace. The answer of the Prophet was friendly. He disclaimed all hostile intention, and pledged himself to meet his adversary in coun- cil on the following day. But Governor Harrison understood the Indian character too well to be thrown off his guard by protestations such as these. He accordingly halted and placed his camp in a pos- ture of defence. The night of the 6th of November was dark and cloudy. On that memorable night a gallant litlae band might have been seen stretched in fitful and uneasy slumber, by their watch-fires near the Wabash, under the shadow of the ancient but now leafless oaks which reared their giant heads around. Here in the oi-der of battle, and with his arms and accouti-ements by his side, lay the wearied foot-soldier with his head pillowed upon his knapsack, there the border knight endued in all the panoply of war reclined at the feet of his faithful steed, and yonder tethered to the door post of an humble tent pawed the impa- tient charger of the Chief himself. The deep solitude of the forest which was so lately startled by the armed array had again subsided into repose. No sound disturbed the quiet save the sighing of the autumnal wind as it swept through the anns of the aged oaks which canopied their heads, or the occasional challenge of the sentinel as he measured his midnight rounds. On a sudden, about the hour of four in the morning, and just when the tap of the morning drum was about to arouse the sleepers from their repose, a single shot was heard, and on the instant the yell of a thousand savages rent the quiet air, and the flash of a thousand rifles lighted up the deep gloom of the primeval forest. The onset was no less terrible than sudden. The savages were in their midst, but every soldier was in his place, and the assail- ant and assdled were soon locked in the embrace of death. In the 1$ {winkling of an eye the watchful Governor, who had been sitting by his tent-fire conversing with his Aids and wailing the approach of dawn, was on horseback and at the point of danger, and throughout the whole of that action was he seen, himself the most exposed of all, gallopping from point to point wherever the contest waxed fiercest, fortifying the positions where the fire was most destructive, and ani- mating his troops by his voice as well as by his example. And nobly was he seconded by his gallant men. For two long hours did the contest rage, for the most part hand to hand, throughout the gloom, until the dawn of the morning lighted up that field of blood, and ena- bled the American Commander, by one simultaneous charge along his whole line, to put the enemy to flight. The history of our coujitry has furnished the example of few fields which have been as stoutly contested as this, and it has been remark' ed by those who were familiar witli the practice of Indian w arfare that on no other occasion has the savage been known to exhibit the same degree of determined and desperate and persevering valor. The slaughter on both sides was considerable. Many of the bravest of our officers fell. That General Harriso:* himself should have es- caped is almost a miracle. He was slightly wounded by a ball which passed through the rim of his hat, but he bore, like Washington, a charmed life, because like him, Jie was destined for higher purposes. The result of this action was decisive. The confederacy of the liostile tribes was dissolved by the disasters of this day, and peace and quiet were once more restored to the alarmed frontier. The in- valuable services of Governor Harrisox were recognized in the most flattering terms by President Madison in his next annual message to Congress, and liis skill and heroism were made the theme of special panegyric by the Legislatures of Kentucky and Indiana by whom he was publicly thanked in the nanux of their respective constituents. The tranquility which followed was however of short duration. In less than one year after the battle of Tippecanoe, the long threatened war with Great Britain took place. The tribesof the north-west were again in arms straining like greyhounds in the slips, and waiting but the signal of their civilized employers to carry havoc and devastation once more into the settlements. The whole frontier was almost en- tirely defenceless. With tlie fall of Detroit which was soon after in- vested by the British, no barrier would be left to stem the torrent of barbarian war, except the stout Jtearts and strong arms of the inhabit- ants. They were however ready, as they have ever been, for the 17 emergency. All they desired was a leader of approved courage and undoubted skill, and every eye was turned at once upon the successful soldier who had so recently humbled the pride, and broken ihe power of the Indian upon the Wabash. The chivalry of Kentucky was first upon its feet. Upwards of five thousand of her citizens were already in arms, and the Governor of that State invited him to a conference in relation to the disposal of the troops which she was about raising for the defence of the country. He repaired to Frankfort in pursu-. ance of the invitation, and was received there with more than a sol- dier's welcome. But higher honors were yet in reserve for him. The volunteers of Kentucky were under the command of her ablest citi- zens ; two thousand of them were ordered at once for the relief of Detroit, but no sooner was their destination announced than they with one consent declared their earnest desire to be placed under the com- mand of Hakhison. The wishes of the people corresponded with the sentiments of the soldiery. But the laws of Kentucky forbade the appointment of any other than one of her own citizens to so exalted a trust. In this dilemma the Executive consulted with the most dis- ^iiguished men of the State, and by their unanimous advice he disre- garded the prohibition, and conferred upon Goverjjor Haerrison the brevet rank of a Major General in the Kentucky Militia, with express authority to take the command of her troops who were destined for the frontier. In the very midst of all tfeese preparations the intelligence of the dastardly surrender of Huli sod the Mi <*f D<3troit descended like a thunderbolt upon the people of the west, and spread consternation and dismay through all their borders. But the re-appearance of the heroic Governor of Indiana at the head of the Kentucky levies, restored the public confidence at once. The intelligefice of his appointment to the. chief command thrilled like the electric spark aloag the whole line of the frontier. The hardy settler on the upper Oliio sprung to hb arms,' the men of " the Bloody Grouud" came up in thousaflds to the «taRd- ard of their favorite Chief, and even the dweJlers beyond our own .mountains, the yeomanry of Westei-aa Peniiisylvania, acknowledging "flie generous impulse and fired by the common enthusiasm which per- vaded the whole West, abandoned tlieir ploughs in the furrow, and snatched down their rifles from the wall. The arrival of General Hakrison was erson, he directed a simultaneous movement upon that point. By the last of .January, through incredible hardships, and after most imexampled toil this first important step was accom- plished and a general junction eflected at the desired place. The army then went into winter quarters, the position was strongly forti- fied, and the name assigned to it of Camp Meigs, in honor of the Gov- ernor of Ohio. It was destined to become the theatre of one of the 19 most, brilliant events of the war, and if it has not received that dis* tinction which it deserved it is only because it paled before the supe- rior lustre of the events which followed. The seige of Fort Meigs is familiar to you all. There are some within the hearing of my voice who were there, and if there be one amongst them who can think of the kindness and the courage of his old commander now without feeling the blended emotions of pride and af- fection swelling from his heart and dimming his eye, I have yet to meet with him. 1 will not therefore fatigue you with details. On the 27th of April the British General Proctor sat down before that posi- tion with a large force of regulars and Indians amounting to several thousand men, and after opening on it a tremendous fire from three several batteries erected for that purpose, sent in a flag to demand its surrender as the only means of saving the garrison from the toma- hawk and scalping knife. The reply of General Harrison was char- acteristic : " Tell General Proctor that this fort will never surrender to him on any terms. If it should fall into his hands it will be in such a manner as will do him more honor and give him larger claims upon the gratitude of his government than any capitulation." The bat- teries of the enemy were carried by a well directed and brilliant sortie, and the British General despairing of success broke up his camp and retreated in confusion and disgrace in the direction of Maiden. Again however did he renew the attempt with a still stronger force, but again was he obliged to abandon it in despair and take refuge beyond the border. But there was no safety for him there. The indefatigable HAnRiso:x, with his brave frontiersmen incensed at the barbarities of the savage Proctor and thirsting for revenge, was on his bloody ti*ail. With the zealous co-operation of the gallant Perry, who had just achieved, with the assistance of Harrison, his memorable victory on the lake, he embarked his troops, landed them on the Canadian shore, encamped on the ruins of Maiden, and pursued and overtook and captured his flying enemy on the banks of the Thames. Of the de- tails of that action I have not leisure to speak. Its result was not less important than honorable to the American arms. It annihilated the British force in Upper Canada, dissolved in the blood of Tecumthe the alliance with the Indian tribes, and wound up the war in a blaze of glory along the whole North Western frontier. Nor did it fail to be properly appreciated by the people. The intelligence of this great victory sped like lightning over the whole land. The sound of rejoie- jxig was heard on every side. Our cities blazed with bonfires and 20 illuminations — from town and tower the bells rang many a merry peal — the path of the conquerror in the direction of the seat of gov- ernment was a career of triumph — the victory of Harrisoji was pro- nounced on the floor of Congress to be such an one as " would have secured to a Roman general in the best days of the Republic the hon- ors of a triumph" — "the blessings of the thousands of women and children rescued from the scalping knife of the ruthless savage of the wilderness and from the still more savage Proctor," were invoked upon his head by the Governor of our own State, in these very halls, and the solemn thanks of the Nation were awarded to him by the Nation's Representatives. With all these honors clustered round his brow, the laurelled Chief returned to Cincinnati in January, 1814, to resume the command of his appropriate District, If the judgment of the public had been consulted, it would have assigned to him a higher and more honorable destina- tion. The western horizon, thanks to his heroic efforts and sacri- fices, was now clear, and there was no further employment there for such a man as Harrison. But the war was still raging in the North, and much and deep solicitude was felt amongst the officers and soldiers there that the chief command, which he had so richly earned, should be bestowed on him. The gallant Perry, who had served as a volun- teer aid by the side of Harrison at the battle of the Thames, in a letter written to him about that period, says, " You know what has been my opinion as to the future Commander-in-Chief of the army. I pride myself not a little in seeing my prediction so near being veri- fied ; yes, my dear friend, I expect to hail you as the Chief who is to redeem the honor of our arms in the North." General M'Arthur, another of his fellow-soldiers, who had served long under his com- mand, in another letter of the same date, written from Albany, de- clares " You, sir, stand the highest with the militia of this State of any General in the service. 1 am confident that no man can fight them to so great an advantage, and I think their extreme solicitude may be the means of calling you to this frontier." The veteran Shelby, a relic of the Revolution, who had fought in some of its bloodiest fields, and had finished his brilliant career of service under Harrison himself at the Thames, in a letter addressed to President Madison a short time afterwards expresses the same opinion in much stronger language. " A rumor," he says, " has reached this State that the Commanding General of the Northern army may be removed. The circumstance has induced me to reflect on the subject, and give 21 a decided preference to Major General Harrison as a successor.— Having served a campaign with General [Iarrison, by which I have been enabled to form some opinion of his military talents and capa- city to command, 1 feel no hesitation in declaring to you that I believe him to be one of the first military characters I ever knew, and in ad- dition to this he is capable of making greater personal exertions than any other officer with whom I have ever served. I doubt not but it will hereafter be found that the command of the North Western army, and the various duties attached to it has been one of the most ardu- ous and difficult tasks ever assigned to any officer in the United States. Yet he surmounted them all. Impressed with the conviction that Gen- eral Harrison is fully equal to the command of the Northern army, should a change take place in that division, I have ventured thus freely to state my opinion of him, that he is a consummate General, and w«!)uld fill that station with ability and honor ; and that if on the other hand, any arrangement should take place in the War Depart- ment which may produce the resignation of General Harrison, it will be a misfortune which our country will have cause to lament. — His appointment to the command of the Northern army would be highly gratifying to the wishes of the Western people." Such was thevoluntary testimony of a soldier who had fought under such Gene- rals as Gates and Marion and Greene. But the Secretary of War had other views. Gen. Harrison had offendsd him, and in return he was destined for inactive service as the fruit of all his toils. With the quick sensibilities of a soldier he had remonstrated with great warmth against the withdrawal of General Howard from his command, as an invasion of the prerogatives of his rank and station as the Commander of a Military District, declaring at the same time that " apart from the consideration of his duty to the country, he had no other inducement to remain in the army, and that if those prerogatives were taken from him he could render no impor- tant service, and would much rather be permitted to retire to private life." Another interference of the like character with the internal police of his district in an order issued directly to Major Holmes, one of his subordinate officers, in violation of all military propriety, joined to the persuasion that he was destined to rust in inglorious repose, de- termined him r i once, and he threw up his commission, assigning as a reason therefor in a letter of the same date addressed to the Presi- dent himself, that he could hold it no longer with a proper regard to his own feelings or honor. It was accepted by the Secretary in the Q2 absence of the Pi'esident and veiy much lo his regret, and thus the nation was deprived of the military services of the only General who had then shed lustre on its arms, But those services were too valuable to be dispensed with altogether. The President of the United States seised upon the earliest occasion which presented itself to testify his unabated confidence in the West- ern Chief by appointing him during the same summer, in conjunction with Governor Shelby and General Cass, to negotiate a treaty with the Indians at Greenville, and in the next following year he was placed at the head of another commission of the like character arising out of the final termination of the war with Great Biitain. In both instances he acquitted himself with the same signal credit which had attended all his diplomatic efibrts in that direction. His long period of public service in the employment of the General Government having now ended with the return of peace. General Harrison retired to his farm on the Ohio for the purpose of devoting himself to the pursuits of private life, and repairing those losses which had resulted from his patient and uninterrupted devotion to the service of the country. But he was not long permitted to enjoy the quiet or repose which he sought. The public voice again assigned to him a place in Congress where he remained until the year 1819, when lie was elected lo the Senate of the State of Ohio, from which he was translated in the year 1824 to a seat in the Senate of the United States as one of the Representatives of the giant State which had sent him in its infancy to the public councils in the humble capacity of its first terrilorial delegate. Of bis services there, it would be impossible to dis- course at large within the brief space which is allowed me. It is enough to say that they were entirely worthy of his ancient fame — his large experience, his cultivated understanding, and his remarkable readiness and power as a debater placing him at once in a command- ing position in that august assembly. In the latter part of the war, 1828, he received from Mr. Adams the appointment of Minister Plenipotentiary to the Republic of Colombia, from which post he was recalled early in the following year without the opportunity of distinguishing his mission by any other incident than the publication of his celebrated ktlcr to Bolivar. On his return he repaired again to his humble but beaut i fid retreat on the Ohio, where he continued to enjoy that repose which was so necessary to his toil- worn frame, until the voice of the nation again summoned him from his retirement to preside over the destinies of this great empire. ^3 The rest of the story is soon told. He obeyed the summons : the West surrendered its Chief into the arms of the Republic, and already he sleeps with his fathers, and a sorrowing nation weeps over his tomb- He has gone down, he, the sorvivor of so many conflicts, who has so often rklden unharmed on the fiery breath of the battle field, has gone down, not in the shock of contending armies — not amid the thunders of the fight, but rather like some ancient oak which has breasted tlie tempest for a thousand years and then falls in the stillness and solitude of the forest with all its branching honors about its head. If the hopes and prayers of a great people could have averted the impend- ing blow, it would not have fallen. But the approaches of the de- stroyer had no terrors for him. He had already encountered him in a thousand forms. No unseemly struggle — no shrinking of the flesh — no darkeningof the spirit characterized the final rupture of that tie which wedded tite immortal occupant to the frail tenement which it had anittsated and illuminated for nearly seventy y^irs. It went down like a tranquil sunset, and as it was shedding its last parting rays upon the mansion which it had so long inhabited, it flashed for a moment upward, cleared the film from the darkening eye, and showed that the last thoughts of the jxitriot were turned upon his country. " I wish you to understand the true principles of this government, I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more," It was his dying tastament to his successor. May it be executed in the spirit in which . it was delivered i Having thus accompanied the illustrious man whose loss we so d to adopt that Fa- bian policy which had conducted us so triumphantly through the war of the revolution, and which won for him the exalted title of " the Wash- ington of the West," In his personal character too were most admi- ?ably blended all those elements which by their well tempered and Judicious intermixture constitute the high talent of military command.* A happy i-nixture of caution and courage — remarkable coolness and «eIf-posession in danger — an inexhaustible fertility of resources — great decision of character — -high powers of combination and equally high powers of physical endurance, together with a kindness of heart and manners which secured the afTecfions of his soldiery to such an extent that, in the language of a historian of the late war, " his men would have fought better and suffered more with him, than with any other General in America," were among his leading qualities. To these also ^fjd jt,9 Jje added an ardent love for his profession, and an assiduous .^evotio^ i