TRINITY COLLEGE 
 LIBRARY 
 
 DURHAM : NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 Rec’d //// 
 
 cQ>-&z^Cb''r 
 
Compliments of 
 
 FRANCIS BURTON HARRISON 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2018 with funding from 
 Duke University Libraries 
 
 https://archive.org/details/arissonisffocisq01harr 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 

 
J? ?? 7/ 
 
 arts g>otus jfoctsqttE 
 
 BEING A MEMOIR OF 
 AN AMERICAN FAMILY 
 
 THE HARRISONS OF SKIMINO 
 
 AND PARTICULARLY OF 
 
 JESSE BURTON HARRISON 
 
 AND 
 
 BURTON NORVELL HARRISON 
 
 \ 
 
 Je ne eais pas tr£s bien ce que c’est que le monde, 
 Maisje chante pour mon vallon, en soubaitant 
 Que dans chaque vallon un coq en fasse autant. 
 
 Chantecler 
 
 Nothing is more becoming, in my 
 opinion, to a true gentleman, than 
 to inform himself about an honor¬ 
 able ancestor. 
 
 Carleton Hunt. 
 
 <y 
 
 EDITED BY FAIRFAX HARRISON FROM MATERIAL COLLECTED BY 
 FRANCIS BURTON HARRISON, AND PRIVATELY PRINTED FOR THEM, 
 
 1910 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 i. The Planter Forebears (1600-1771) .... 3 
 
 ii. The Quaker Forebears (1600-1767) .... 16 
 
 hi. William Harrison of Skimino (1740-1819) . 33 
 
 iv. Samuel Jordan Harrison of Lynchburg 
 
 (1771-1846). 53 
 
 v. Jesse Burton Harrison of New Orleans 
 
 (1805-1841). 84 
 
 vi. Burton Norvell Harrison of New York 
 
 (1838-1904). 144 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 By Burton N. Harrison, with notes by 
 Jefferson Davis. 223 
 
 ESSAYS BY JESSE BURTON HARRISON 
 
 The Prospects of Letters and Taste in Virginia, 
 
 1828 271 
 
 English Civilization, 1832 . 301 
 
 The Slavery Question in Virginia, 1832 . . . 337 
 
 INDEX.401 
 
ABIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
( 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PLANTER FOREBEARS (1600-1771) 
 
 J ESSE BURTON HARRISON and Burton Norvell 
 Harrison, his son, came of a race of Virginia 
 planters. All of their ancestors, Harrisons, Jordans, 
 Bates, Burtons, Hudsons, Whitlockes, and Bacons, 
 were landowners in the adjoining counties of York, 
 James City, and Charles City, and across the James 
 River in Nansemond, from the middle of the seven¬ 
 teenth century, and later in Henrico, and all were of 
 purely English stock. They had come with the first 
 swarming of the English industrial hive; later than 
 the earliest adventurers, but before the Cavaliers and 
 the convicts. They were prototypes of the English 
 colonist who has since spread over the earth. 
 
 “Even from an economic point of view, it is im¬ 
 portant to know that the great body of men who sued 
 out patents of public land in Virginia were sprung 
 from the portion of the English Commonwealth that 
 was removed from the highest as well as from the 
 lowest ranks of the community, and which, while in 
 many instances sharing the blood of the noblest, yet 
 as a rule belonged to the classes engaged in the dif¬ 
 ferent professions and trades, in short, to the workers 
 in all the principal branches of English activity. 
 With those principal traditions animating them, the 
 traditions of race and nationality, blending with the 
 
 1*1 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 traditions of special pursuits, they had also that en¬ 
 terprising spirit which prompted them to abandon 
 home and country to make a lodgment in the West .” 1 
 
 The Harrisons of Skimino came of a family widely 
 spread through the eastern counties of England, 
 and got their name and an infusion of viking blood 
 from the Danish invaders of the ninth century . 2 
 The Essex branch of this family, which contributed 
 Richard Harrison and his kinsman, Dr. Jeremy Har¬ 
 rison, to Virginia early in the seventeenth century, 
 bore arms which are described in Burke’s “General 
 Armoury” as “Azure, two bars ermine, between six 
 estoiles or, three, two and one. ’ ’ 
 
 The records left by these immigrants are meager 
 enough, but they are more than sufficed for Cuvier to 
 reconstruct his antediluvian mammals, and the mate¬ 
 rial found in Mr. Bruce’s “Economic History of Vir¬ 
 ginia in the Seventeenth Century,” collected from the 
 remains of this and other contemporary planter fami¬ 
 lies, enables one, with the aid of the philosophic fancy, 
 
 1 Bruce, ‘ ‘ Economic History of Virginia in the Seventeenth Cen¬ 
 tury, ’ ’ Vol. II, p. 131. 
 
 2 Captain Shirley Harrison of Upper Brandon, who came of the 
 family of that ilk which has contributed two Presidents to the United 
 States, used to maintain stoutly that, because of the prevalence among 
 them of such names as Benjamin and Samuel, the Harrisons must all be 
 Jews! But there can be no doubt of the Danish origin of the name, be¬ 
 cause it is found in England almost exclusively within the limits of the 
 Dane Law, and in its original form, Arysen, is still met with in Scandi¬ 
 navian countries. In the Dictionary of National Biography there are re¬ 
 corded thirty Harrisons who have been of note in England, and it is 
 curious to observe that one third of them have been known chiefly by 
 their piety, and mostly as nonconformists; but there are also lawyers, 
 architects, and mathematicians. Perhaps Cromwell’s regicide general is 
 the best known. Appletons ’ Cyclopedia of American Biography records 
 twenty-one of the name in America, having their origin in all the colo¬ 
 nies, North and South. There were several distinct families of the 
 name in Virginia, the colonial records being full of them. In the 
 United States, according to Appletons ’, they have been known chiefly as 
 lawyers and educators. 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 to picture the planter Harrisons and their manner of 
 life. 
 
 We know that Richard Harrison (1600-1664), the 
 immigrant, was born in St. Nicholas Parish in the 
 town of Colchester, Essex, but when and under what 
 circumstances he came to Virginia we do not know. 
 The earliest record of him in Virginia is of his paying 
 tithes in 1634 in respect of a patent of land on Queens 
 Creek, in Middletown (afterward Bruton) Parish, 
 York County. His plantation lay within the limits 
 of Skimino Hundred, and for nearly two hundred 
 years the name Skimino spelled Home to his family. 1 
 That he was a man of substance is indicated not 
 only from the estate which he left to be divided 
 after his death, but by the fact that, in addition to 
 himself and his wife, Elizabeth Besouth, he brought 
 into the colony eight persons. On December 29, 
 1662, the York County records show that a “cer¬ 
 tificate is granted to Richard Harrison for five hun¬ 
 dred acres of land for the transportation of Tenne 
 persons into this colony, vizt: Richard Harrison, 
 Elizabeth Harrison, John Mecorpent, Peter Plumer, 
 Thomas Shaw, James Boen, William Dickes, James 
 Besouth, Nicholas Hull and Nanne Morgan, a negro 
 woman.” James Besouth 2 was Richard Harrison’s 
 
 1 The name is variously spelled Scimminoe, Skimmino, Scimmino, but 
 the most approved usage seems to be the simplest, Skimino. 
 
 - James Besouth, after the death of his brother-in-law Richard Har¬ 
 rison in 1664, served as the guardian of his minor children. He was 
 prominent in church matters, and was one of the original vestry of 
 Bruton Parish in 1674. In 1678 James Besouth headed the list of con¬ 
 tributors to the foundation and erection of the subsequently famous 
 Bruton Parish Church, in Williamsburg. He died in 1681.- It is wor¬ 
 thy of note that Richard Harrison’s son-in-law John Kendall was also 
 a vestryman of Bruton Parish, in 1694, and that Richard Kendall, the 
 grandson of Richard Harrison, succeeded his father in that important 
 office in 1710. Catharine, the widow of James Besouth, left a legacy 
 for the purchase of a “suitable piece of plate for the use of Bruton 
 Parish,” which was duly presented by Richard Kendall in 1712. 
 
 [ 5 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 brother-in-law, and the other names, in addition to 
 the negro slave, are doubtless those of indentured 
 ‘ ‘ servants ’ ’ from England who were the laborers on 
 his plantation. 
 
 Richard Harrison’s close kinsman, Dr. Jeremy Har¬ 
 rison, settled near him on Queens Creek. He was a 
 picturesque character who had been in the East India 
 service, and it is some evidence of the political opin¬ 
 ions of the family that his wife was a Whitgreave of 
 Moseley and came out of the very household which 
 sheltered Charles II after the battle of Worcester 
 in 1651. 
 
 There has survived among the family records a 
 statement of the division of Richard Harrison’s per¬ 
 sonal property among his widow and children, which 
 is an interesting document as showing the equipment 
 of a Virginia plantation in the middle of the seven¬ 
 teenth century: 
 
 This is the Devision of the Estate of RICHARD HARRI¬ 
 SON deed., of Middle Towne of the County of York, by Mr. 
 Napier & Mr. Lyman, accordinge to the order of Corte held 
 the 20th of December, 1664. 
 
 THE WIDDOW’S third is thus sett downe: It (is) thus 
 ordered: That the widow take fully into her possession the 
 man servant & the horse, wch is one third; & the boy servt, 
 & the mare colt, wch is another third; and the mare, wch is 
 the next third, which third that belongs to the widow is the 
 boy & the maire-colt; and for the other two parts the widow 
 is ordered to be Debtor to her children (in) the sume of 
 thirty foure pounds sterlg. The widow is further to stand 
 indebted to the children twenty shillings for their parts of 
 the house furniture, wch makes the sum in all thirty five 
 pounds, to each child a like portion. Beddinge: The widow’s 
 part of beddinge is her owne fether bed: (&) sheets, with 
 the Furniture belonging to itt: The widow’s part of the 
 
 C 6 3 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 sheetes is three sheetes, & for Table linen, it is ordered by 
 the deviders that the widow doe enjoy itt all, & be accomp- 
 table to her children the value of two napkins apiece, which 
 is their full due. The widow’s third of the Pewter is two 
 dishes and small Basin, three plates, 4 pint potts, 1 ladle 
 cupp,—1 salt seller, 2 purringers, 1 saser, 10 spoons, 1 skim¬ 
 mer, 1 Bastinge Ladle. Iron: The widow’s third is the 
 middle pott, 1 greate skillett, iron kettle, one frying pan, 
 1 pr. tongues, 2 prs. pott hooks, 1 wedge, 1 pestle, 1 
 chest, 1 gunn ould. The widow’s third of these things fol¬ 
 lowing is this: 7 milk trays, 1 cheese fatt & cover, 1 pr. 
 bellows, 1 hand sawe, 1 pair of hinges, 1 new hatchett, 1 
 grubbing hoe new. More to the widow: 3 paire shoes, & 2 
 paire hose. Cattle: “Nightingale” & her calfe, “Mopus” 
 & her calfe, Lady Gentle, 1 Black Steare; 8 hogges with no 
 marks but the eare marke. This is all the widow’s thirds. 
 
 JOHN HARRISON’S parte is this: 2 three year old heif¬ 
 ers, 1 cowe yearlinge of a browne couler, & 2 bull calves, 3 
 hogges with 3 marks, 1 fflock bed with the furniture & 1 
 sheete; 2 napkins, 3 pewter dishes, 1 great candlestick, 1 
 tanker, 1 plate, 4 spoons, 1 new gunn, 1 frying pan, 1 pestle, 
 3 trays, 1 adz, 1 stock-lock, 2 paires of hookes and hinges, 1 
 ax, 1 pre. of shooes & stockings. 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON’S parte: Old & young “Prim¬ 
 rose” & 1 pied heifer, 3 hogges with 1 marke apiece, 1 fflocke 
 bed wth the furniture, 1 paire of sheets & 2 napkins, 1 
 pewter dish, 1 greate Basin, 4 spoones, 1 qrt. pott with new 
 lid, 1 paire of andirons, 1 skitt, 1 pott & pothooks, 3 trays, 1 
 chaire, 1 paire of shooes & hose. 
 
 JAMES HARRISON’S 1 parte: 1 Young & 1 old steare, 
 
 i James Harrison, the youngest son of Richard, the immigrant, was a 
 robustious person. In 1678 he had a lawsuit with one Isaac Godding 
 over some land which he had leased to Godding, and this gave rise to a 
 quarrel which came to a head eight years later. On February 24, 1686, 
 James Harrison was haled before the governor, Lord Howard of Effing¬ 
 ham, on a charge of breach of the peace, preferred by Godding. 
 Susanna Betts and John Berry then made depositions as follows: 
 
 “That about the last of Jany. last past yor. depots, was att ye house 
 of Isaac Godding, and there James Harrison came in the prsence to 
 
 £ 7 3 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 3 liogges with 5 marks, 1 fflocke bedd with the furniture, 1 
 sheete, 2 napkins, 1 pewter dish, 2 plates, Beane Bole, 1 can¬ 
 dle stick, 4 spoones, 1 great old chest, 1 great iron pott, 1 fire 
 shovell, 1 paire of tongues, 1 old brass skillett, 3 trays, 1 
 leather cliaire, 1 paire shooes & hose. 
 
 ANNE HARRISON: Bess & the heifer with calfe & 1 
 Bull, 3 lioggs with 4 marks, a feather bed with the furniture, 
 which is between her and her sister Ellena; 1 sheete, 2 nap¬ 
 kins, 2 pewter dishes, 1 Brass morter & pestle, 2 porringers, 
 1 plate, 4 spoones, 1 dramm cupp, 1 greate brass kettle, 2 
 wedges, 1 pestle, 3 trays, 1 froe, 1 auger, 1 ax, 1 paire shooes 
 & stockings. 
 
 ELLENA HARRISON: Younge Modesty & mother, 2 
 napkins, 1 grizzled throated heifer, 3 hoggs wth 2 markes, 1 
 ffeather bed between her sister and she, 1 sheete, 1 pewter 
 dish, 1 great pott, 1 plate, 1 porringer, 1 salt seller, 1 dramm 
 cupp, 1 saser, 4 spoones, 1 great chest, 1 dripping pan, 1 pott 
 and potthooks, 1 chafing dish, 1 little pott, 3 trays, one 
 wooden chair, 1 paire shooes & hose. 
 
 This is all the childrens’ parts [Pat. Napier, 
 
 [John Lyman. 1 
 
 borrow a runcllett of the said Godding, and the said Godding tould him 
 that he had never a one but a 2 gallon Rundlett, and if that would serve 
 him he should have itt. Then he said Dam the Rundlett, itt is not fitt 
 for my use. Then did abuse said Godding and called him Rogue and 
 Newgate Burd, and his wife’s life lay att his mercy, and hawles him a 
 pritty distance from his house, and tould him he would maule him as 
 never Rogue was so mauled. And whenever he did meete him by night 
 or day he would doe the same. Then the said Godding tould him— 
 ‘James, my hands are tyed to keep the peace’ and the said Harrison 
 replyed and said ‘God dam the peace,’ and further yr. deponts. saith 
 not. ’ ’ 
 
 James apparently was so annoyed that he forgot the maxim, “Pro¬ 
 fanity is the unnecessary use of profane language. ’ ’ The governor took 
 this view, and James was fined “500 lbs. tobo. & cask to our Sovn Lord 
 the King for contemptible words & threats against Isaac Godding, con¬ 
 stable. ’ ’ Godding’s office in the commission of the peace indicates why 
 he felt that he could not defend himself. 
 
 1 A contemporary copy (as evidenced by the chirography) of the 
 above document was taken across the Ohio by William Harrison 4 
 
 n s 3 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 It is difficult for one who has seen York County at 
 the beginning of the twentieth century, with its melan¬ 
 choly ranges of exhausted, sandy land grown up with 
 tangled coppices of stunted oak and chestnut, and its 
 general appearance of decrepitude and misery, to 
 imagine the York County of the middle of the seven¬ 
 teenth century, which Richard Harrison knew. Per¬ 
 haps the most characteristic feature of the tide-water 
 Virginia of that time was the forest, now gone with 
 the Indian who once inhabited it—the wonderful 
 primeval forest of great trees, laved by frequent and 
 copious streams: walnut, cypress, ash, locust, and 
 tulip poplar all so nobly interlaced as to form a 
 canopy of high boughs. As a consequence, there was 
 no undergrowth, and “the trees stood so far apart 
 that a coach could have been driven through the thick¬ 
 est groups without danger of coming into contact with 
 trunks and boughs, and yet so deep was the shade that 
 it furnished the amplest protection from the rays of 
 the meridian sun in the hottest day of summer.” The 
 original cedars of Virginia were justly compared with 
 
 (fourth of the name) in 1817. In 1910 it is still extant, in possession 
 of William Jordan Harrison of Mount Pleasant, Ohio, the son of Jor¬ 
 dan Harrison, who emigrated with his father, William Harrison ,4 and it 
 corresponds exactly with the above transcription from the York County 
 records. To this copy are appended the receipts for their several portions 
 given by the children of Richard Harrison to their mother Elizabeth, his 
 executrix, who before 1670 had married again one David Dunbar, e.g.: 
 
 “I, WILLIAM HARRISON, son to Richard Harrison, deceased, doe 
 by these presents acknowledge to have received of my mother, Elizabeth 
 Dunbar, formerly Harrison, all my parte in the Devision made of my 
 father’s estate according to his will, and do hereby aquit my mother, 
 Executrix to my father, deceased, from all debts, dues and demands 
 due to me by virtue of my father’s will. Witness my hand this 10th of 
 March, 1670. 
 
 “William Harrison. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Witness: the mark of 
 
 John + Harrison, 
 James Besouth. ” 
 
 C 9 1 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 those of Lebanon. Here and there through this forest 
 were open glades into which the sun poured with 
 checkered shadows: there the spontaneous grass grew 
 luxuriantly, and there were pastured the planters’ 
 cattle, surrounded by borders of flowering dogwood, 
 redbud, haw, and alder. 
 
 In this forest the colonists cleared their plantations 
 and began the cultivation of the light, friable, alluvial 
 soil underlaid with a deposit of decaying sea-shells, 
 which was for a time so marvelously fertile, but 
 had so little heart that it soon became exhausted. The 
 agricultural system of the Virginia planter in the 
 seventeenth century was based upon clearing the land 
 of trees, and this act was the badge of his civilization. 
 He boasted of his prowess, and he taught his son how 
 to do it most effectually and with the least labor by 
 ‘ ‘ girdling, ’ ’ and so killing, the mighty giants, thus re¬ 
 moving the forest canopy and opening the land to the 
 sun and the rain; he left the tall skeleton stumps to 
 be removed at leisure as they rotted down—a practice 
 which can still be seen on the cotton-plantations along 
 the Gulf of Mexico to-day. So much a part of pioneer 
 life was this that it is not difficult to understand the 
 slow progress of the attempt to educate the descen¬ 
 dants of the pioneer, even after two hundred and 
 fifty years, in the principles of ‘‘conservation” of 
 the now fast-disappearing forests of America. The 
 first lands so cleared were along the watercourses, 
 where the most fertile soil was found, such as the 
 three principal creeks which drain York County into 
 York River—Skimino, Queens, and Kings; and the 
 wasteful practice was to clear fifty acres (the head- 
 right unit), plant it with tobacco year after year, 
 without compensation of manure, without rotation, 
 and without even the restorative influence of legu- 
 
 C10 H 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 minous crops (of which even the seventeenth-century 
 planter might have learned the value from the Roman 
 agricultural wisdom of centuries before him), until 
 the greedy tobacco-plant had eaten all the humus out 
 of the soil, and the beneficent soil bacteria (of which 
 neither the planter, nor even old Cato of the “De re 
 rustica,” had ever heard) had fled before the deadly 
 plow. Then the planter cleared another fifty acres, 
 and so proceeded until he had exhausted all his land 
 and was compelled to patent and take up a new planta¬ 
 tion on the widening western frontier, and move him¬ 
 self and his family to another home. 
 
 There was no stone in the peninsula between the 
 York and James rivers, but in the very nature of the 
 civilization there was an abundance of lumber; and for 
 the same reason that the contemporary Englishman 
 built his house of stone and brick because of his 
 scarcity of lumber, the Virginia colonist built his 
 house of wood, at first of logs, but soon of frame. So 
 cheap was lumber esteemed as compared even with 
 the nails which held the planter’s house together, that 
 when he came at last to move on to take up new virgin 
 soil, it was his practice to burn the old house so as to 
 be able to gather the nails it contained and carry them 
 on for use in building again on the new land. 
 
 From surviving records we can reconstruct in im¬ 
 agination those seventeenth-century planter homes, 
 such as harbored Richard Harrison and his family on 
 Queens Creek. The house stood in a grove of lofty 
 walnut-trees under a cypress-shingled roof. It was of 
 one story and attic construction, forty by eighteen 
 feet, with a brick chimney and a one-room wing at 
 each end, the main roof running down over a deep 
 veranda. There was a wide hall through the house, to 
 catch the summer breezes, and this was the living-room. 
 
 nn] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 There were four or perhaps six sleeping-rooms, in 
 which stood the feather and flock beds and their furni¬ 
 ture—an encompassing’ set of red linsey-woolsey cur¬ 
 tains supported on rods, with a valance of drugget. 
 In the bedrooms stood also the “great chests,” of 
 which Eichard Harrison had two, where were stored 
 the linen as well as the unseasonable clothes. The 
 sheets were of osnaburg, the blankets of duffle. 
 Worsted yarn rugs were on the floors, and the win¬ 
 dows were hung with printed linen. The tableware 
 was pewter, of which Eichard Harrison had an ample 
 supply. He had, too, a leather chair, an unusual 
 luxury, and doubtless that was his own throne before 
 the deep, resounding hearth what time he and his chil¬ 
 dren gathered by the clear light of the myrtle candles, 
 giving forth an exquisite incense, to tend the domestic 
 altars—“aris sonis focisque”—from which “Harri¬ 
 son and his folk” have derived their punning motto. 
 
 The kitchen and outbuildings were near at hand 
 within the palisade of the house-yard, and adjoining 
 was the garden, where grew vegetables—peas, sweet 
 and Irish potatoes, and Indian corn—with pumpkins, 
 simlins, and melons between the rows; and fruit— 
 grapes, plums, and figs; all bordered with the well- 
 beloved flowers of England—thyme, marjoram, and 
 phlox, on which murmured innumerable bees. Straw¬ 
 berries grew wild in such abundance that it was 
 considered unnecessary to cultivate the plant. Near 
 by was the genius of the house—the spring, which 
 was the reason for its location—with a cool dairy- 
 house. Upon a tall pole in the yard towered the 
 box house for the bee-martin, who boldly pro¬ 
 tected the poultry from the forays of hawk and 
 crow. An apple-orchard was always set out. There 
 was no ice-house, and so no means of keeping fresh 
 
 C12 3 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 meat, but in the immemorial smoke-house hung the 
 bacon and hams, which were probably more delicious, 
 in those days of deep mast-beds surrounding every 
 plantation, than even the boasted product of Smith- 
 field to-day. But there was no lack of other meat for 
 the carnivorous English colonist. He had not yet 
 learned to subsist upon preserves, “hog-meat,” and 
 corn bread, like so many of his descendants. He had 
 abundance of poultry of the dunghill, and the teeming 
 forests were filled with wild turkey, growing at liberty 
 to the bulk of the comfortable, dough-fed domestic 
 gobbler of to-day; then there were wild fowl in the 
 river and swamp in quantities to make the modern 
 sportsman sick with envy—goose, swan, canvasback 
 and redhead duck, plover, and snipe. “On the Bay 
 and River feed so many wild fowl in winter time they 
 do in some places cover the water two miles,” says 
 Glover in 1676. The woods were literally filled with 
 wild pigeons, there being recorded flights which in a 
 dark cloud required three and four hours to pass, like 
 that which presaged disaster to Bacon’s Rebellion. 
 When the pigeons roosted, they were so thick as to 
 break down the limbs of the trees, like the apples of a 
 prolific orchard. 1 Oysters the planter had in plenty 
 from the near-by York River, and fish of the best 
 
 1 This was the American passenger-pigeon, now supposed to be 
 extinct, and is distinct from the dove still found in great numbers in 
 southern Georgia to-day. Burton N. Harrison, who loved birds and spent 
 many vacation hours in the woods and on the sea-shore, observing them, 
 remembered the flights and the extraordinary slaughter of the wild 
 pigeon during his boyhood in Kentucky. Audubon, in “The Birds of 
 America,” Vol. V, p. 25, paints a fascinating word-picture of the marvel 
 of the wild pigeon as he observed it in Kentucky in 1826. He says: ‘ ‘ The 
 multitudes of wild pigeons in our woods are astonishing. Indeed, after 
 having viewed them so often and under so many circumstances, I even 
 now feel inclined to pause, and assure myself that what I am going to 
 relate is fact. Yet I have seen it all and that, too, in the company of 
 persons who, like myself, were struck with amazement. ’ ’ 
 
 C13] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 —sheepshead, shad, bream, and bass. Walnuts, chest¬ 
 nuts, hickory-nuts, and hazel-nuts were stored to stuff 
 the turkey withal, and honey there was of course; 
 every planter had a row of “skeps” in his garden. 
 Nor was he without liquid cheer: “Where now only 
 the meanest brands of whisky can be bought, Madeira, 
 sherry, Canary, Malaga, muscadine, Fayal, and other 
 foreign wines were offered for sale. Had there been 
 no popular demand for them, they would not have 
 been imported. Descended from a race of hearty and 
 liberal drinkers, the English, it would have been re¬ 
 markable had the Virginians of the period shown no 
 strong tendency to indulge in liquor. ’ ’ 
 
 "When Richard Harrison died, there were 20,000 
 white people in Virginia and about 1500 slaves. The 
 first cargo of negroes had been landed at Jamestown 
 in 1619. In 1662 Richard Harrison owned a negro 
 woman, and when he died, two years later, he owned a 
 negro man and a boy. He left a horse, a mare, and a 
 mare colt at a time when there were only 268 horses 
 in all York County; when a gelding fifteen years old 
 had been appraised at £13 sterling; when a mare and 
 foal were considered the equivalent in value of eight 
 cows. There were many neat cattle in the colony. 
 Richard Harrison had twenty-two—a bull, eight cows, 
 six heifers, three steers and four calves—and he had 
 twenty-three hogs. In 1659 cows were valued in Vir¬ 
 ginia at £2 5s., or, allowing for the diminished pur¬ 
 chasing power of money, about their value to-day. 
 
 There is small wonder that, under such conditions 
 of ease of subsistence and a fertile soil, easily culti¬ 
 vated with large returns, in a genial climate, the 
 planter life at the end of the seventeenth century pro¬ 
 moted hospitality and—sloth. The degeneration of 
 the hardy adventurer who had immigrated was inev- 
 
 £143 
 
THE PLANTER FOREBEARS 
 
 itable in his descendants unless they engaged in trade 
 or pushed forward with the frontier to cope with the 
 same experiences in home-building in the wilderness 
 which the immigrant himself had known. 
 
 On Richard Harrison’s plantation, lying on Queens 
 Creek in Skimino Hundred, about five miles northeast 
 from the town of Williamsburg, he and his immediate 
 descendants from father to son cultivated tobacco for 
 five generations and one hundred and eighty-five years. 
 They all married in the neighborhood. The descent, be¬ 
 ginning with the son of Richard Harrison, the immi¬ 
 grant, was William/ (1648-1713), who married Mary 
 Hubbard, daughter of Matthew Hubbard, one of the 
 most successful planters of his generation; William 2 
 (1675-1727), who married Ann Ratcliffe; William 3 
 (1705-1771), who married Margaret Maupin; and 
 William4 (1740-1819), who married Margaret Jor¬ 
 dan. Between Richard, who had the spirit to come to 
 Virginia, and William, the Quaker, who had the spirit 
 to emigrate farther west, they were eminently respect¬ 
 able but quite unnecessarily uninteresting. Their indi¬ 
 vidual careers, as indicated by the county and parish 
 records, may be summed up in the statement that they 
 were born, married, begot, paid taxes, and died; mean¬ 
 while planting tobacco, like their neighbors, at first 
 with the labor of white “redemptioners” and after¬ 
 ward with negro servants, in such fashion as to 
 exhaust their land and steadily diminish their patri¬ 
 mony. In respect of them it is perhaps sufficient to 
 rest upon the Chinese principle that high deeds en¬ 
 noble one’s ancestors. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE QUAKER FOREBEARS (1600-1767) 
 
 I N 1768 the Harrisons of Skimino became Quakers, 
 and by the marriage of William Harrison, fourth 
 of the name, with Margaret Jordan there was blended 
 in the blood of his descendants an inheritance of the 
 vigorous and manly character of the Jordans of 
 Nansemond and the Bates of Skimino, who since 1660 
 had been leaders among the Friends in Virginia. 
 
 Quakerism was essentially an expression of dissent 
 —dissent from political regulation as well as dis¬ 
 sent from religious limitation. It has been well re¬ 
 marked that when reading the Declaration of Inde¬ 
 pendence it should be remembered that Jefferson was 
 brought up in the midst of Friends and that many 
 of his first cousins were members of that Society. 
 Patrick Henry, who embodied successful revolt against 
 aristocratic government in Virginia, was justly called 
 “a real half-Quaker.” 1 The Society had its origin in 
 one of the many evangelical movements in which in all 
 ages the Anglo-Saxon seems to take peculiar satisfac¬ 
 tion, but to call it nonconformity would be to give a 
 pale name to a flaming fact. Voltaire pointed out in 
 the Dictionnaire Philo sophique how remarkably the 
 
 i In a letter of Roger Atkinson to his brother-in-law Samuel 
 Pleasants, who was of a well-known Quaker family, the Virginia mem¬ 
 bers of the first Congress are described graphically. Of Patrick Henry 
 he says: “He is a real half-Quaker—your brother’s man—moderate and 
 mild and in religious matters a saint; but the very devil in politics, a 
 son of thunder. ’ ’ Cf. Bishop Meade, Vol. II, p. 220. 
 
 [163 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 Quakers accorded with the usages of the primitive 
 Christians; and it may be observed that at that time 
 Christianity itself was dissent. The least common 
 denominator of much early Protestantism is human 
 idiosyncrasy: if opposed and persecuted, it flourishes; 
 if ignored, it withers. In 1689, when the Toleration 
 Act ended religious persecution in England, there 
 were estimated to be 40,000 Quakers in England; to¬ 
 day, after more than two centuries and a great in¬ 
 crease in population, there are not more than 20,000 in 
 all Great Britain. In America the Society of Friends 
 had special opportunities for development, and if the 
 followers of George Fox had stood for more than mere 
 dissent, their society should have flourished like the 
 green bay-tree and have numbered its members by mil¬ 
 lions, as the followers of Wesley do to-day. Not only was 
 it the faith of the governing majority in the colonies 
 of West Jersey and Pennsylvania, but in the South, 
 where there were many Puritans among the earliest 
 adventurers, Quakerism was for a time the only form 
 of dissent from the moribund Established Church 
 which was available to those of purely English race; 
 and toward the middle of the eighteenth century dis¬ 
 sent from the Established Church was becoming al¬ 
 most an act of colonial patriotism. Bishop Meade 
 recognized this. “Dissent from various causes was 
 now spreading through the Commonwealth,” he says 
 in his “Old Churches, Ministers, and Families in Vir¬ 
 ginia,” “dissatisfaction with the mother country and 
 the Mother Church was increasing, and the Episcopal 
 clergy were losing more and more the favor of God 
 and man; . . . the War of the Revolution was ap¬ 
 proaching, and with it the downfall of the Church.” 
 The religious establishment was identified with the 
 English government in the minds of many aggrieved 
 
 [ 17 ] 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Virginians. The parish church offered nothing- on the 
 spiritual side to afford an outlet to the natural piety 
 of the average planter family, while the Quakers prac¬ 
 tised a sincere and consistent Christianity. In the 
 time of their greatest vogue the Friends alone offered 
 spiritual solace, but with the incoming of the Scotch- 
 Irish, new forms of religious practice made appeal to 
 the Virginia planter, while the personal eccentricities 
 of the Quakers alienated many people whose hearts, 
 avid of religious emotion, might otherwise have been 
 opened to their preaching, and gave rise to a resent¬ 
 ment which did not rest upon their doctrine so much 
 as upon their stiff-necked social inconvenience. On 
 their political side also the Quakers lost ground. So 
 long as the Revolutionary spirit was in the ascendant, 
 the Quaker opposition to the laws they deemed unjust 
 was tolerated by the community and indeed attracted 
 converts to the Friends ’ meeting-house; but, when once 
 the government established by the people themselves 
 was settled and became strong, the law was respected 
 by the majority, and obedience to it was required by 
 public opinion as well as by the executive power. Dur¬ 
 ing the early years of the United States, dissent from 
 the law thus fell into disrepute, and with it Quakerism. 
 Despite this prejudice, Quakerism nobly prolonged its 
 vitality by maintaining, in the teeth of personal sacri¬ 
 fice of fortune and convenience, the propaganda of a 
 great moral issue—opposition on principle to slavery. 
 It has been demonstrated that opposition to slavery at 
 the North became vigorous only when the slave-trade 
 ceased to be profitable to Northern ship-owners; but 
 the Virginia Quakers were mostly planters and them¬ 
 selves slaveholders, depending, in many cases, on the 
 institution for their very living. They proved their 
 principles by acting on them, and emancipated their 
 
 CIS] 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 slaves as soon as they lawfully could. They did not, 
 however, hide their light under a bushel. Their re¬ 
 sistance to government may have been passive, but on 
 the slave question they were clamant. It has been 
 well said that they admitted no weapon but the tongue, 
 and used that unsparingly. They made themselves so 
 disagreeable to the comfortable slaveholding Cava¬ 
 liers of Virginia that their descendants to-day resent 
 the very name of Quaker. But in their attitude in re¬ 
 spect of slavery, the Virginia Quakers, beyond all 
 cavil, rendered a noble service to mankind, for they 
 undoubtedly accelerated public opinion on the moral 
 side of that great question. Yet even this high impulse 
 did not enable Quakerism to perdure: before slavery 
 ceased to exist, Quakerism practically disappeared in 
 the South. The statement that they had migrated to the 
 West in protest does not furnish a convincing explana¬ 
 tion : thousands who were not Quakers migrated at the 
 same time, and the Society of Friends is to-day a neg¬ 
 ligible religious quantity in the whole country. The 
 fact is that when active opposition to them ended their 
 raison d’etre ceased. The Methodists, the Baptists, and 
 other evangelical sects, which make another and more 
 convincing appeal to the human heart, have swallowed 
 the Quakers of the South as the lean kine swallowed 
 the fat kine in Pharaoh’s dream. 1 
 
 It was no light decision, the becoming a Quaker in 
 
 i That the Friends are no longer a vital force among the American 
 people is apparent from the statistics. In 1909 there were reported a 
 total of 33,897,507 members of religious denominations in the United 
 States, of whom only 118,527 were Friends, including those Orthodox, 
 Hicksite, Wilburite, and Primitive. There are as many Dunkards and 
 even as many Christian Scientists. At the same time there were 6,825,971 
 Methodists and 5,435,074 Baptists. In sixteen years the Baptists in¬ 
 creased over 52 per cent, and the Friends only 6 per cent. The Quakers 
 to-day are like the Democrats—they need an issue to reinvigorate them. 
 As it is, they are merely an interesting historical survival. 
 
 C19] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 eighteenth-century Virginia. Even after criminal 
 prosecution for mere opinion had become no longer a 
 risk, the political consequences were as serious as 
 conviction of a felony. In Webb’s “Virginia Jus¬ 
 tice” (1736), the hornbook of contemporary magis¬ 
 trates, 1 the law of the period respecting the disabilities 
 of Quakers is stated as follows: “No Quaker shall be 
 permitted to give evidence in any criminal cause, or 
 serve on Juries, or bear any Office or Place of Profit 
 in the Government. Stat 7 <£ 8, W. 3 and 10 Annae, 
 cap. 2 It was not until Jefferson’s bill for religious 
 liberty became law in 1785 that these disabilities 
 were removed. So we must respect the sturdy renun¬ 
 ciation of those men of education and opportunity 
 who, for an idea, deliberately renounced the ambition 
 of political preferment, which is as deeply rooted in 
 the heart of the Anglo-Saxon even as his religion. 
 
 One of the first of the planter families to become 
 Quakers in Virginia were the Jordans, from whom so 
 many Virginia families are honorably descended. 
 
 Samuel Jordan was one of the pioneer adventurers 
 to Virginia. One likes to think he was the S. Jourdan 
 who was of Sir George Somers’s company in the Sea 
 Venture, cast away on the Bermudas in 1609, and who 
 subsequently wrote “A Discovery of the Barmudas, 
 Otherwise Called the lie of Divels”; this was the first 
 account of that notable adventure published in Lon¬ 
 don, and doubtless inspired Prospero’s bidding to 
 Ariel “to fetch dew from the still-vex’d Bermoothes.” 
 
 i In the library at Belvoir, in Fauquier County, is the copy of this 
 book which was once used in administrating the law at Belvoir-on-the- 
 Potomac. At the sale of the effects left in America by George William 
 Fairfax in 1773, this volume was purchased by General Washington. 
 From Mount Vernon it went to Mr. Justice Bushrod Washington, and 
 was acquired in 1896 by Burton N. Harrison from Lawrence Washing¬ 
 ton of Alexandria. 
 
 C20] 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 Jordan reached Jamestown in 1610, and during the 
 same year the tract was hawked in the London streets, 
 “The Tempest” being first produced in November, 
 1611. Samuel Jordan was the owner of the plantation 
 which, with agreeable humor, he called “Jordan’s 
 Jorney” (now Jordan’s Point), on the James River; 
 there he fortified his house, “Beggar’s Bush,” and 
 drove off the Indians during the massacre of 1622, and 
 there he is recorded as residing when the Virginia 
 census of 1623 was taken. He was an important man 
 in the colony, being a member of the House of Bur¬ 
 gesses of 1619, which is especially interesting as the 
 earliest representative assembly convened in America. 1 
 He had two sons by his first wife in England, both of 
 whom came to Virginia. The story of his second wife 
 and youthful widow, Cicely, has been well told by 
 Alexander Brown. 2 As it contributes a note of 
 comedy to the earliest Virginia records, and is the 
 record of the first breach-of-promise suit in America, 
 with the man in the role of plaintiff at that, it is worth 
 quoting in full : 
 
 Late in March, 1623, Captain Samuel Jordan, of “Jor¬ 
 dan’s Jorney,” died. Three or four days after the Rev. 
 Grivell Pooley came to see Captain Isaac Madison touching 
 a match with Mrs. Jordan, and entreated Madison to move 
 the matter to her. “At first Madison was unwilling to meddle 
 in any such business, but, being urged, finally consented; 
 and broached the subject to Mrs. Jordan, who replied that 
 she would as willingly have Mr. Pooley as any other, but she 
 would not marry any man until she was delivered.” This 
 was all that a man in his mind ought to have asked; but 
 Pooley could not wait, and soon went to see her himself. He 
 reported to Captain Madison that he had contracted himself 
 
 1 For a sympathetic note on Samuel Jordan, the Founder, ef. Alex¬ 
 ander Brown’s “Genesis of the United States,” p. 933. 
 
 2 ‘ ‘ The First Republic in America, ’ ’ p. 563. 
 
 C21] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 unto her, and desired Madison to go with him and be a wit¬ 
 ness to it. Madison went with him, and when “Mr. Pooley 
 desired a dram, Mrs. Jordan desired her servant to fetch it; 
 but Pooley said he would have it of her fetching or not at 
 all. Then she went into a room; Madison and Pooley fol¬ 
 lowed her, and when Mr. Pooley was come to her he told her 
 he should contract himself unto her, and spake these words: 
 ‘ I, Grivell Pooley, take thee, Sysley, to my wedded wife, to 
 have and to hold till death us do part, and thereto I plight 
 thee my troth.’ Then, holding her by the hand, he spake 
 these words: ‘I, Sysley, take thee, Grivell, to my wedded 
 husband, to have and to hold till death us do part.’ But 
 Madison heard not her say any of those words, nor that Mr. 
 Pooley asked her whether she did consent to those words; 
 then Mr. Pooley and she drank each to other, and he kissed 
 her and spake these words: ‘I am thine and thou art mine 
 till death us separate.’ Mrs. Jordan then desired that it 
 might not be revealed that she did so soon bestow her love 
 after her husband’s death, whereupon Mr. Pooley protested 
 before God that he would not reveal it till she thought the 
 time fitting.” He failed to keep his promise, however, and 
 told of his good luck. Mrs. Jordan resented this, then con¬ 
 tracted herself to Mr. William Ferrar before the Governor 
 and Council, disavowing the former contract and affirming 
 the latter. On June 14 Mr. Pooley “called her into court” 
 and instituted against her the first breach-of-promise suit 
 in English America. The case came up before “the Council 
 of State” (the Court), Governor Wyatt, Sir George Yeard- 
 ley, Mr. George Sandys, Roger Smith, Ralph Hamor, and 
 Mr. John Pountes. They were unable to decide, however, 
 and continued it to November 27, when Mrs. Mary Madison 
 and her servant, John Harris, were examined before the Gov¬ 
 ernor and Secretary Davison. Neither of these witnesses 
 was present at the supposed contracting, but both had heard 
 Mrs. Jordan say that “Mr. Pooley might have fared the 
 better had he not revealed it.” “The Council in Virginia 
 (not knowing how to decide so nice a difference, our devines 
 not taking upon them pressily to determine whether it bee a 
 
 C22 3 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 formal and legall contract) referred the case to the Company 
 in England, desiring the resolution of the civil lawyers 
 thereon and a speedy return thereof.” And, to prevent the 
 like in the future, the Court issued the following proclama¬ 
 tion : 
 
 “Whereas, to the great contempt of the majesty of God 
 and ill example to others, certain women within this Colony 
 have, of late, contrary to the laws ecclesiastical of the realm 
 of England, contracted themselves to two several men at one 
 time, whereby much trouble doth grow between parties, and 
 the Governor and Council of State much disquieted; To pre¬ 
 vent the like offense to others, it is by the Governor and 
 Council ordered in Court that every minister give notice in 
 his church to his parishioners, that what man or woman 
 soever shall use any words or speech tending to the contract 
 of marriage though not right and legal, yet may so entangle 
 and breed struggle in their consciences, shall for the third 
 offense undergo either corporal punishment, or the punish¬ 
 ment by fire, or otherwise, according to the guilt of the per¬ 
 sons so offending.” 
 
 The dissolution of the Virginia Company, ensuing 
 soon afterward, ended the proceedings; Mr. Pooley 
 married another lady and was killed with his wife in 
 the Indian massacre of 1629. The triumphant Cicely 
 married her preferred William Ferrar and lived hap¬ 
 pily ever after! 
 
 Thomas Jordan / was born in England in 1600, and 
 came to Virginia in the ship Diana. He was a son of 
 Samuel Jordan of “Jordan’s Jorney,” and is re¬ 
 corded in the Virginia census of 1623 as a soldier 
 under Sir George Yeardley. He settled in Isle of 
 Wight County, which he represented as a burgess 
 from 1629 to 1631-2, and in 1635 was a patentee of 
 lands. His son, Thomas Jordan2 (1634-1699), lived 
 at Chuckatuck, in the adjoining county of Nansemond, 
 and became a Quaker, “receiving the Truth” in 1660. 
 
 [233 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 This was the year of the death of James Nayler, which 
 marked the climax of the “ranter” spirit among the 
 early Quakers, and was eight years before William 
 Penn became a Friend. Thomas Jordan 2 endured 
 for his faith all the persecution which was visited in 
 Virginia as in England upon Quakers before the Tol¬ 
 eration Act. “His sufferings date from September, 
 1664. He was imprisoned six months for being taken 
 in a meeting at his own house. He was released by 
 the king’s proclamation. He was taken a second 
 time at a meeting at Robert Laurence’s and bound 
 over to court; he refused to swear, was sent up to 
 Jamestown, and was a prisoner ten months. The 
 Sheriff took away three servants and kept them nine 
 weeks; he took by distress beds and other goods 
 amounting to 3907 pounds of tobacco; he took also a 
 serving-man and ten head of cattle, valued at 5507 
 pounds of tobacco.” 1 
 
 In 1659 Thomas Jordan 2 married Margaret Bras- 
 seur, daughter of Robert Brasseur, a Huguenot immi¬ 
 grant who had settled in Nansemond and had also be¬ 
 come a Quaker, and they had ten sons, Thomas ,3 John, 
 James, Robert, Richard, Joseph, Benjamin, Matthew, 
 Samuel, 2 and Joshua. In the Society of Friends 
 
 1 Weeks, “Southern Quakers and Slavery,” p. 26. 
 
 2 This Samuel Jordan (1679-1760) married Elizabeth Fleming, 
 daughter of Colonel Charles Fleming of New Kent County, and became 
 the father of Colonel Samuel Jordan, who “settled at ‘the Seven 
 Islands’ on the south side of James River, in the present county of 
 Buckingham, where he owned a considerable body of land. He also 
 owned 5250 acres on Jordan’s Creek, in Halifax County, and 4699 
 acres in Albemarle. He was a justice of the peace for Albemarle 1746- 
 1761; a captain in 1753; sheriff 1753-1755; presiding justice of the 
 peace and county lieutenant of the new county of Buckingham in 1761. 
 The records of this county having been destroyed, I have but little 
 material to base a sketch upon. He is said to have been a burgess from 
 Buckingham 1761-1766. He was certainly a burgess from that county 
 
 C243 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 “Record Book” of Lower Virginia Meeting, which 
 was begun in 1673 by the motion and order of George 
 Fox, and is still preserved in Baltimore, appears the 
 testimony of Benjamin Jordan, the seventh son, con¬ 
 cerning his father and mother: 
 
 THOMAS JORDAN of Chuckatuck, in Nansemond 
 County, in Virginia, born in ye. year 1634, and in ye. year 
 1660 had received of ye. truth and abode faithful in it & in 
 consequent unity with ye. faithful friends thereof, & stood 
 in opposition against all wrong and deseatful spiritt, liaveing 
 suffered spoiling of his goods & ye. imprisonment of his Body 
 for ye. Truth sake, & continued in ye. truth unto the ende 
 of his dayes, Beloved of us his dear wife & children above 
 Ritten. He departed this life ye. 8th Day of ye. 10th 
 month in ye. 6th of ye. weeke about the 2nd. hour in the 
 afternoon, and was buryed ye. 12th day of the said month 
 on the 3d. of ye. week in ye. year 1699. 
 
 MARGARETT JORDAN the Daughter of Robt. Brashore 
 was borne in the 7th mo. in the year 1642, & was convinced 
 of the Truth about the 16th year of her age, from wch she 
 lived an exemplary life in all conversation untill the day of 
 her death, & was a sufferer with my father both by confis[ca¬ 
 tion] & alsoe the spoyling of their Goods by the Adversaries 
 of Faith, for the obed[ience] of their conscience in the wor¬ 
 ship of God. Her days were Given up in the services of Truth, 
 according to her Ability. Shee was a good wife and a tender 
 & careful mother, a good mistress & a kind neighbour. And 
 aboute the 63 year of her age, shee was taken with an indis¬ 
 position [of] boddy wch contained near 3 year, in wch 
 time shee was much weekened by Reason of her distem¬ 
 per. A little time before her death some Friends came to see 
 
 in 1767 and 1769,” says Alexander Brown in “The Cabells and their 
 Kin. ’ ’ Mr. Brown apparently did not know from what nest his ances¬ 
 tor Samuel Jordan came. Colonel Jordan’s daughter, Margaret Jordan, 
 married Colonel William Cabell in 1756. From that marriage is de¬ 
 scended the numerous family of Cabells, including the Breckinridges of 
 Kentucky and the Rives of Albemarle. 
 
 [ 25 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 her, to wliome she signified her content, & talked to them 
 much of the Goodness of God to her, & said she questioned 
 not of her salvation. And upon a first day of the weeke, 
 being the 5th of the mo., shee spoke to me & said that there 
 was a time for her to die, and that was her time, & itt was 
 come. And on the 3d day of the weeke, as I was standing 
 by her to see her last, she called me by my name and said 
 ‘ ‘ I am gone. ’ ’ I answered & said I thought shee would go to 
 God. Shee answered with a cheerful & a smiling counte¬ 
 nance, “I doe not doubt that” and said “Remember my love 
 to all friends & unto my children, and tell them that they 
 fear God, and love one another, & keep to meetings, and then 
 it will be well with them.” And she had mee send for my 
 Eldest Brother’s wife, to whom when shee came, and several 
 of my Brothers, shee said to them that they weare come now 
 to see her last end. And att 6 of the clock att night shee 
 died in Remarkable quietness, the 7th of the 10th mo. in the 
 year 1708—having lived about 66 years, & survived my 
 father 9 years lacking 18 hours—and was buried 11th day 
 of the afores’d mo. 
 
 Apparently all of the sons of Thomas Jordan 2 and 
 Margaret Brasseur continued faithful Friends except 
 the eldest son, Thomas Jordan ,3 who allowed his 
 worldly ambitions to lead him out of the narrow path 
 which his father had trod. In 1696 he was a burgess 
 for Nansemond, and subsequently he became high 
 sheriff; but his brother Robert Jordan (1668-1728) 
 may fairly be considered to have made good this dere¬ 
 liction, for he became a pillar among the Friends and 
 contributed 580 pounds of tobacco to the cost of the 
 Buffkins Meeting-House, which was the earliest meet¬ 
 ing-house at Chuckatuck and perhaps in Virginia. 
 
 In 1698 there came to America Thomas Story, a fol¬ 
 lower of William Penn, who had discoursed, with 
 modest confidence in his opinion, on the respect due 
 to the temporal power of princes to the Czar Peter 
 
 [ 26 ] 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 the Great when that potentate was in England, and 
 was highly esteemed among the Friends as a mis¬ 
 sionary. His progress among the Virginia plant¬ 
 ers was most successful, and he made many conver¬ 
 sions. In his “Journal” Story records that on the 
 occasion of his first visit to Virginia in 1698 he had 
 lodged with Thomas Jordan 2 at Chuckatuck, and 
 seven years later he makes an interesting entry about 
 Thomas Jordan :3 
 
 . . . [May 27, 1705.] That night we lodged at the Old 
 Widow Jordan’s. On the 28th, I went to visit Thomas 
 Jordan, eldest son of Thomas Jordan of Chuckatuck, (who 
 had ten sons, all Men, and living at the same Time) now 
 gone off from Friends into the World, the Way of Truth be¬ 
 coming too narrow for him, as his Desires after the Way of 
 the World increased: Upon my reasoning the case with him, 
 he could not say anything against the Way of Truth, in 
 which he had been educated, but had taken occasion against 
 the Behavior of some of his Brothers, and some Friends; 
 who, thinking he did not strictly come up in the Testimony 
 of Truth, in his Behaviour, were so unkind to him, as openly 
 to refuse him their Hands, with some such like other Ex¬ 
 cuses ; and yet was very respectful to me, and took my visit 
 kindly. That evening I returned to his Mothers. On the 
 29th we had a Meeting at the Western Branch of Nanse- 
 mond; which was pretty large and very open; and that night 
 we returned with Robert Jordan over Nansemond River. 
 
 Robert Jordan,/ the sturdy and faithful Friend who 
 thus returned over the river with Story from the visit 
 to the recusant Thomas, married, on July 7, 1690, 
 Mary Belson, daughter of Edmund Belson of Nanse¬ 
 mond, and had by her nine children, of whom three 
 sons and a grandson became Quaker preachers cele¬ 
 brated far beyond the boundaries of Virginia. Robert 
 Jordan 2 (1693-1742) began to preach in 1718, and 
 
 [27] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 visited Maryland, Carolina, and New England in 1722. 
 In 1723 lie was imprisoned for refusing to pay tithes— 
 “priests’ wages,” as the Friends contemptuously 
 called them. His account of this experience, contained 
 in the “Memorials of Deceased Friends,” which was 
 published in Philadelphia in 1787, is singularly lucid 
 and well written: 
 
 Being committed to prison, I was first placed in the debt¬ 
 ors’ apartment, but in a few days was removed into the com¬ 
 mon side where condemned prisoners are kept, and for some 
 time had not the privilege of seeing any body except a negro, 
 who once a day brought water to the prisoners: this place 
 was so dark that I could not see to read even at noon, with¬ 
 out creeping to small holes in the door: being also very noi¬ 
 some, the infectious air brought on me the flux, that, had not 
 the Lord been pleased to sustain me by his invisible hand, I 
 had there lost my life: the Governor was made acquainted 
 with my condition and I believe used his endeavor for my 
 liberty: the Commissary visited me more than once under a 
 show of friendship, but with a view to ensnare me, and I was 
 very weary of him. I wrote again to the Governor to ac¬ 
 quaint him of my situation: for so after a confinement of 
 three weeks, I was discharged without any acknowledgment 
 of compliance, and this brought me into an acquaintance and 
 ready admittance to the Governor, who said I was a meek 
 man. 1 
 
 In 1728 he preached in England, Scotland, Wales, 
 Ireland, and the Barbados, and in 1734 was again in 
 England. In 1740 he again visited the Barbados, and 
 in 1741 was once more in Boston. In 1732 he removed 
 his residence from Virginia to Philadelphia, where he 
 died. 2 
 
 Joseph Jordan (1695-1735) accompanied his elder 
 
 1 The Governor was Hugh Drysdale, and the Commissary, James Blair. 
 
 2 See a sketch of him in Appletons ’ Cyclopaedia of American Biog¬ 
 raphy. 
 
THE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 brother Robert on many of his journeys and preached 
 with him, going independently to Holland. His grand¬ 
 son, Richard Jordan (1756-1826), was in turn a 
 preacher, and was said to have visited in his ministe¬ 
 rial capacity every Yearly Meeting of the Society in 
 existence. He left an autobiography, “The Journal 
 of Richard Jordan,” which was published in Phila¬ 
 delphia in 1849. 
 
 The youngest son of Robert Jordan,/ and another 
 preacher of the “Truth,” was Samuel Jordan (1711- 
 1767) of Nansemond. By his marriage another strong- 
 strain of Quaker blood was introduced into the family. 
 The Bates were prosperous planters in York County, 
 living on Skimino Creek, near neighbors of the home 
 of the Harrisons on Queens Creek. Their immigrant 
 ancestor was John Bates/ (1598-1666), who was a 
 resident of Middletown (Bruton) Parish at the time of 
 his death. His son, George Bates of Skimino (1625- 
 1677), left two sons, James Bates (1650-1723) and 
 John Bates 2 (1655-1719). It was at the house of 
 John Bates 2 at Skimino that Thomas Story held one 
 of his earliest meetings in Virginia: 
 
 On the 11th of 12th month (1698) we set sail in the 
 long boat for Queen’s Creek in York River, where we got 
 with some difficulty, and were made welcome at the house 
 of our friend Edward Thomas; 1 had a meeting with the 
 
 i This Edward Thomas was constantly in trouble with the authorities 
 by reason of his vigorous dissent. The York County records illustrate by 
 his example how the Quakers were dealt with: 
 
 “1683-4 1/24 . . . Whereas the foreman of the Grand Jury pre¬ 
 sented Edward Thomas for that the said Thomas ye 25th day of July 
 last did entertaine & suffer Quakers to preach in his house—which being 
 made appeare by the oaths of Mr. Jerom Ham & Mr. Robert Harrison, 
 he is therefore fined accg. to Act of Assembly—And the said Edward 
 Thomas is fined 200 lbs. tobo. & cask for working & mauling of loggs 
 upon Christmas day. ’ ’ 
 
 ‘ ‘ 1685 9 /24. Edward Thomas presented for not coming to the parish 
 church. ’ ’ 
 
 “1685 12/14. Whereas Edward Thomas was presented to this Court, 
 
 C292 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 family, and a few of the neighborhood, who, though not of 
 the Society, were several of them much tendered; which was 
 the first-fruits of our ministry in that country, and good en¬ 
 couragement. We went from hence to Warwick River, 
 Martins’ Hundred and Bangor House, and had meetings to 
 satisfaction. At Scimmino in York County, at the house of 
 John Bates, we had a meeting appointed, where no meeting 
 had been before, and though he was not a Friend by pro¬ 
 fession, yet very forward to provide seats; saying, his House, 
 he feared, would be too small for the meeting, but had room 
 sufficient in his Heart. The people were generally tendered 
 and humbled, and we comforted in a sense of the love and 
 visitation of God ... it was upon my mind to say, in the 
 Spirit of prayer, . . . And at that instant both John Bates 
 and his wife were convinced of the truth, and from that time 
 professed the same with us. 
 
 The brothers James and John Bates 2 both became 
 Quakers under Story’s influence, and James Bates 
 later took to preaching himself, visiting England and 
 Ireland about 1717. 1 In York County Court is an in¬ 
 ventory of his library, made on June 15, 1724, after 
 his death. It consisted of “One large Bible, one 
 pocket ditto, One Concordance, Ellwood’s History of 
 Old and New Testament in 2 vols., 4 vols. of Plu¬ 
 tarch’s Lives, Seneca’s Morals, a parcel of old books, 
 etc. ’ ’ 
 
 Hannah Bates, the daughter of James Bates of 
 Skimino, married Samuel Jordan of Nansemond on 
 January 3, 1738, and thus became the mother of 
 Margaret Jordan, who married William Harrison.4 
 
 for that he out of non-conformity to the church, hath totally absented 
 himself from the same, & from hearing of the common Prayer, Preach¬ 
 ing & other Devine Services for about the space of one whole year; who 
 (being) prsent in Court & not anywaies denying the same; & the said 
 Thomas being formerly fined as being a reputed Quaker, and . . . 
 Sheriff to take him into custody to give bond for his good behaviour & 
 that he be fined ace: to Stat: 23d Elizh in such case, ’ ’ etc. 
 
 i Chalkley’s “Journal,” p. 192. 
 
 C30] 
 
TIIE QUAKER FOREBEARS 
 
 There were several other intermarriages between 
 the Bates and the Jordans and their descendants, 
 which shows the strong infusion of Quaker blood in 
 William Harrison’s family circle. 
 
 John Bates 3 (1685-1723), the son of John Bates 2 
 of Skimino, married Susanna Fleming, daughter of 
 Colonel Charles Fleming, 1 of New Kent County, and 
 his son, Fleming Bates (1710-1784), married Sarah 
 Jordan, daughter of Benjamin Jordan (1674-1716), 
 the seventh son of Thomas Jordan 2 of Chuckatuek, 
 whose testimony concerning his father and mother has 
 been quoted. Of the large family of Fleming Bates, 
 two sons, Edward Bates and Elisha Bates, married 
 daughters of William Harrison, 4 and two daughters, 
 Mary and Sarah, married sons of Elizabeth Ratcliffe, 
 who was William Harrison’s sister. Thomas Fleming 
 Bates, another son of Fleming Bates, was the father 
 of the Hon. Edward Bates of Missouri, Attorney- 
 General in Lincoln’s cabinet, and of George Bates, 
 who was Governor of Missouri. 
 
 The Jordans are an interesting race, strong, stiff¬ 
 necked, and upstanding, but with a skill and grace 
 with the pen, a turn for good literature, and a gener¬ 
 ally cheerful disposition cropping out in all their de¬ 
 scendants who reproduce their characteristics. Had 
 they not early become Quakers, there is little doubt 
 but that they would have been one of the politically 
 dominant families in the Commonwealth. They were, 
 moreover, a prolific race, and reproduced not only 
 their qualities but their names in every generation of 
 the steadily increasing lines of their blood, to their 
 own pious satisfaction, no doubt, but to the despair of 
 
 i Another of Colonel Charles Fleming’s daughters, it will be remem¬ 
 bered, married Samuel Jordan, the ninth son of Thomas Jordan,2 who 
 is the ancestor of the Cabells. 
 
 [ 31 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 the genealogist. For example, Samuel Jordan of 
 Nansemond, from whose daughter Margaret the Har¬ 
 risons of Skimino are descended, was first cousin to 
 Colonel Samuel Jordan of Buckingham, from whose 
 daughter Margaret the Cabells are descended. Each 
 also had a daughter Mary, from whom the Anthonys 
 and the Winstons are respectively descended. 1 
 
 1 Most of the genealogical facts in this and the preceding chapter 
 were collected from the Virginia county records by Captain Wilson 
 Miles Cary of Baltimore, which is the best certificate of their meticu¬ 
 lous accuracy. With this learned and ardent student of Virginia 
 family history Burton N. Harrison’s sons are proud to cultivate an 
 inherited friendship, which goes beyond the instinct of kinship. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMIXO (1740-1819) 
 
 W ILLIAM HARRISON, fourth of the name, 
 was born at Queens Creek in 1740. He had a 
 sport-loving, easy-going father, but his mother, Mar¬ 
 garet Maupin, who was the young widow of “Matthew 
 Buck, Gent., of York,” when, in 1730, she married into 
 the Harrison family, contributed a strain of quicker- 
 stirring blood to invigorate her son withal. William 
 Harrison, like his forebears, was bred conventionally 
 in the Church of England, and obtained in the Bruton 
 parochial school that customary, sound, if elementary, 
 drilling in the Latin and English classics for which the 
 ante-Revolution Virginia clergy should be forgiven 
 many of their sins. 1 Considering contemporary his¬ 
 tory, according to Bishop Meade, attendance at Bru¬ 
 ton Church in Williamsburg during the last half of the 
 eighteenth century was more a matter of social ob¬ 
 servance than of conscience, but William Harrison 
 came into contact with a family of strong spiritual 
 force when he sought in marriage Margaret Jordan, 
 the daughter of Samuel Jordan of Nansemond. 
 
 In 1765 Mistress Margaret Jordan, a motherless 
 maiden of twenty, was practically an orphan, as her 
 father was constantly absent on his preaching mis¬ 
 sions. Margaret was left to the guardianship of her 
 
 i J. Burton Harrison lamented, in his ‘ ‘ Discourse on the Prospects of 
 Letters and Taste in Virginia, ’ ’ the absence of even this faint reflection 
 of English university training in the Virginia of the next century, and 
 rehearsed the effect of it, and of the lack of it, on men in public life. 
 
 C33] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 cousin, Robert Jordan, in Nansemond, and was held 
 by him to the strictest observance of the customs of 
 the Friends. But, while on a visit to her grandmother 
 Bates at Skimino, she met William Harrison, then a 
 handsome man of twenty-sis. He wooed her, and it 
 was merely a question of religious practice that kept 
 them apart, as William Harrison wooed ardently and 
 won the lady’s heart. Robert Jordan was obdurate; 
 no Jordan could wed any man not a Friend, and he 
 soon forbade William Harrison to come to his house. 
 Thereupon William Harrison penned to Cousin 
 Robert a letter of protest, which, Mistress Margaret 
 asserted in later years, was so beautifully writ, so 
 well expressed, so full of manly forbearance yet ear¬ 
 nest supplication, that the guardian in reading it 
 aloud to his wife, when he thought that Margaret was 
 not within hearing, was melted. Margaret, listening 
 unseen to them, heard him remark: “In good sooth, 
 this young man is so fine a fellow, so sensible and so 
 well educated, I do hardly see my way to assuming 
 the responsibility of further interference. ’ ’ This suf¬ 
 ficed for Margaret. She flew to her William, and they 
 were wed without delay, but, on William’s insistence, 
 in the Church. The result was that Margaret was dis¬ 
 ciplined by dismissal from the Friends’ Meeting. The 
 records of the Monthly Meeting at White Oak Swamp, 
 August 2, 1766, assign the reason for this “paper of 
 denial, ” as it was called, ‘ ‘ for her marrying a man, by 
 a priest, not of our Society,” for that assembly was 
 of sterner stuff than Cousin Robert and his wife. Wil¬ 
 liam Harrison took his wife home to the old Queens 
 Creek house, for his father was then living on other 
 property in James City County, and there for two 
 years William and Margaret lived in open practice 
 of the Church of England. Then a yearning came 
 
 C34] 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 over her to go back into the fold that had sheltered 
 her in childhood, and she applied for reinstatement. 
 An entry in the minutes of White Oak Swamp 
 Women’s Meeting shows that she was made welcome: 
 
 10th Mo., 1st, 1768. Margaret Harrison did some time 
 ago petition this meeting to be taken under the care of 
 Friends, which has lain for consideration, and now having 
 received an account from Skimmino Friends of her orderly 
 life and conversation, she is at this time received into mem¬ 
 bership and recommended to the care of the Friends of 
 Skimmino Meeting. 
 
 Being a woman of dominant character as well as 
 charm, Margaret Jordan pleaded with her husband 
 till, for her sake, he consented, rather than part from 
 her even in religious practice, to go with her into mem¬ 
 bership in the Friends’ Meeting. 
 
 William Harrison became a devout and active mem¬ 
 ber of his adoptive church. In 1783 he was one of 
 the overseers of Skimino Meeting, in succession to 
 Fleming Bates, and in 1787 he served on a committee 
 to formulate a plan for schools; in the same year he 
 was appointed an elder by the Quarterly Meeting. As 
 soon as it was legally possible he emancipated his 
 servants. Prior to the Revolution, slaves might be 
 emancipated in Virginia only for meritorious services 
 proved to the satisfaction of the court, and the law 
 was that all slaves who should otherwise be set free 
 might be seized by the church-wardens and sold into 
 new bondage. For this reason the slaveholding Quak¬ 
 ers nominally retained their title to their slaves, but 
 when, by a law of 1782, it became possible to emanci¬ 
 pate at will, they proceeded to record a legal libera¬ 
 tion. In William Harrison’s note-book, which has 
 been preserved, is the following entry in his hand: 
 
 [ 35 ] " 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 June 16,1783} I went to York Court and emancipated a 
 negro woman, Hannah, a girl named Bridgett, a boy named 
 Samuel Smith. Benjamin Bates and his son Edward Bates 
 were witnesses thereto. Win. Russell acted as clerk at that 
 time. 
 
 But, although he was willing, according to the injunc¬ 
 tion of George Fox, to “quake before the Lord,” he 
 was not willing, despite the tenet of non-resistance, to 
 quake before the king. There is a tradition that in 
 the heat of the Yorktown campaign in 1781 General 
 Washington, General Lafayette, and their staffs 
 stopped one day to drink of the deep well on the 
 Queens Creek plantation, which was famous for its 
 cool, potable water; and that when Washington, with 
 grave courtesy, thanked him and wished him and his 
 family well, William Harrison replied: “if fight one 
 must, sir, thine is a noble cause.” He carefully pre¬ 
 served for many years the box out of which General 
 Washington’s horse had eaten the corn supplied from 
 the Queens Creek crib on this occasion. 
 
 In a utilitarian age, it is ground for regret that Wil¬ 
 liam Harrison was a Quaker, because the memory 
 which survives of his character and abilities indicates 
 that had he been of any other faith he might have taken 
 some effective part in public affairs during the critical 
 period of American history in which he lived. But, 
 in listening to the preaching of John Woolson, he had 
 peace, and that is something of which a utilitarian 
 age has small store. He was blessed, furthermore, 
 by a charming and devoted wife and sincerely affec¬ 
 tionate children, as is shown by the family corre- 
 
 i The court records of York County show that the emancipation took 
 place on May 24, 1783. William Harrison’s sister Elizabeth, and her 
 husband, William Ratcliffe, joined the Friends in 1769, and they also 
 emancipated their slaves. 
 
 C36] 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 spondence of the period. His two sons who went out 
 into the world constantly wrote to him, consulting 
 about their business ventures, and confiding to him 
 their successes and failures. When they made money 
 they always sent him presents; when they lost money 
 they invited his sympathy and his blessing. It was a 
 relation as admirable as it is unusual, and illustrates 
 the old man’s character as nothing else could. Both 
 the sons Samuel and William left the Society of 
 Friends, as was almost inevitable in view of their 
 touch with the larger world of affairs; but they always 
 treated the faith of their father and mother with ten¬ 
 der respect, though they could not refrain at times 
 from a little good-natured teasing of the Quaker 
 prejudices. Letters addressed to their father as 
 “Esq.” or “Mr.” would arouse a storm of protest, 
 only to be followed by affectionate apology. How 
 great was the old man’s distress at the worldliness of 
 his sons, but how sincere was his respect and regard 
 for them, is well indicated by his letter to Samuel 
 Jordan Harrison on his joining the Freemasons: 
 
 York County 5 Mo. 12. 1794. 
 
 Bear son Samuel: 
 
 I Ree’d thy letter p. Moses Embree, dated 11 Mo. 93. from 
 Q. M. & also the money sent, but have not been able as yet, to 
 get the work done having, several times, been disappointed, 
 by the workmen I choose to imploy, have only the frame got, 
 which has been done a considerable time, shall Endeavour 
 to get the business done as soon as I can make it convienient. 
 
 Thy kind Favour I desire to make due Acknowledgement 
 for. 
 
 My dear Son I Rec’d thy letter p. Thos. Ladd, dated at 
 Richmond 3 Mo. 94. as also 2 letters from thy Bro’r Will’m 
 enclos’d, & was glad to hear of your healths &c. 
 
 And dear Son, to my very great sorrow, I find by thy 
 
 [ 37 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 letter thou art become a Mason, tho’ causioned against it by 
 me some considerable time past, when in conversation on the 
 subject, at which time thou told me, I need not make myself 
 uneasy, for thou had no intention that way, therefore I did 
 not Suspect anything of the kind had taken place in thy 
 mind, when thou wert Last down. It is a very great grief to 
 thy Dear Mother, & myself likewise, but to her in a very 
 peculiar manner, for She is at present reduced very low & 
 weak in body & much troubled in mind, On reflecting on the 
 Inconsiderate Conduct of her Dearly Beloved Son, in whom, 
 from thy tender & dutifull demeanor towards her, she had 
 promised herself great comfort & satisfaction in her old age. 
 
 And dear Son I am heartily sorry, for thy unguarded con¬ 
 duct in Joining thyself with a Fraternity of men, whose 
 principles, in the Opinion of all men but themselves, are 
 altogether Repugnant to all Good, except that of Benevolence 
 to each other, & however thou may please thyself at present 
 with the thoughts of the Nobility of the Institution, & think 
 thou hast made a great Bargain, even to a tenfold purchase 
 yet be assured thou hast Acted very unwisely & Quite con¬ 
 trary to the principle of Divine Truth, & tho’ they with 
 whom thou hast Joined thyself, may be esteemed by the 
 world, men of Understanding, yet I am told their Meetings 
 are all Crown’d with Riot & confusion, which Indicates no 
 good. Thy Mother & myself, are altogether dissattisfied & 
 uneasy on thy Acc’t, & greatly desire to see thee as soon as 
 possible, & hope thou’l find cause to Omit the Attendance of 
 the Masons Lodge, in future & again cleave to thy former 
 Friends, whose principles, if obediently follow’d, will lead 
 out of darkness, & all confusion, into Stillness & Quietude, 
 where peace & comfort is only to be witness’d & Rec’d. 
 
 Now dear Son, I desire thou’l inform me whether thou 
 feels Quite easy & Satisfied, with thy new Associates, that 
 required thee to break our blessed Lords command, to qual- 
 lify thee for their Society, for I am told there is grevious & 
 Bitter Oaths required of all who are Initiated & Rec’d by 
 them. 
 
 Thy Mother desires me to add part of a Dream she had 
 
 [ 38 ^ 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 some little time before our Last Q. M. concerning thee. She 
 Dream’d she just Rec’d a letter from thee, hut could not read 
 it, nor make out any thing in it; the letter being tyed at 
 every corner so with ribbands, & superfluity of different sorts 
 & kinds, so that she cou’d not get it open; this gave her some 
 uneasiness, & when Friends Returned from the Q. M. she 
 was told thou was seen Marching to the Masons Lodge, 
 dress’d with more Ribband than ever the Friend saw on any 
 man before, & that after the meeting of the Masons broke up, 
 he saw thee at a Tavern Reveling & carousing with them. 
 Now dear son Remember thy Creator in the days of thy 
 youth, & do not Sport away thy precious time in Mirth & 
 Jollity, for as sure as thou lives, thou must die, & give an 
 acc’t of thy deeds done in the body. Come and see Us as 
 soon as may be convenient, my heart is exceeding tender 
 towards thee, at this time, & my eyes ready to overflow 
 with tears on thy Acc’t, while I am writing this, fearing 
 lest thou shou’d get into a profligate state, & become aban¬ 
 doned to all good by Associating with some of the wickedest 
 sort of men in the world, tho’ rich & great, but that will add 
 nothing in a trying Season. 
 
 I observed in the conclusion of thy letter thou says, thou 
 art as much as ever Our truly Affec ’nt Son & I hope thou art, 
 for thou art tenderly beloved by Us, & I trust we may never 
 have cause to suspect thy sincerity to Us, yet I have a fear, 
 unless thou shou’d be favored to see thy Error & Repent & 
 forsake the attendance of the Masons Lodge & frequent the 
 Assemblies of those who profess Faith in the true God, again. 
 
 Now concerning what thou says about thy Bro. Wm., I 
 can give no Instructions, at present, but think nearly as thou 
 does, Respecting him, tho’shall say nothing at this time about 
 it, as I expect him down at Q. M., or soon after, & chuse to 
 see him myself. If I live before any proposals are made, 
 I desire thou may promote his coming down, all in thy power 
 directly by writing to him & urging him to it. Thy Sister 
 Bates had a Son Born yesterday morning, which they call 
 Edward, & she as well as can be expected in her case. She 
 sends her love to thee, as does thy dear Mother, & Sisters, & 
 
 C 39 3 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Brother Jordan. So in ranch tenderness & love, I conclude 
 thy Sincere & Affectionate Father till Death. 
 
 ¥m. Harrison. 
 
 The decline of tobacco-planting and the exhaustion 
 of the York County soil through the methods of culti¬ 
 vation which had always obtained in tide-water Vir¬ 
 ginia are apparent from the history of the Queens 
 Creek plantation. It had yielded rich returns to 
 Richard and his son; William Harrison 1 is recorded 
 in York County Court as having killed a wolf in 1696, 
 but apparently his grandson, William Harrison,3 was 
 not so successful in keeping that kind of beast from 
 his door, for he sold off a part of the Queens Creek 
 plantation and mortgaged the rest, and although he 
 owned and at the end of his life lived on another plan¬ 
 tation in James City County, the beginning of the nine¬ 
 teenth century found William Harrison 4 living with 
 his youngest son, Jordan Harrison, upon 130 acres on 
 Queens Creek, which then constituted the remnant of 
 the patrimonial property. The Southern Quakers were 
 at this time beginning deliberately to shake the dust of 
 the slaveholding States from off their feet. “ About 
 1800, when their protest against slavery took the form 
 of migration, they left their old homes in the South by 
 thousands and removed to the free Northwest, par¬ 
 ticularly Ohio and Indiana.” 1 William Harrison 4 
 and the faithful members of his family who dwelt 
 about him in the strict practice of the usages of the 
 Friends felt, from economic necessity, the force of 
 this impulse as much, if not more than, from principle. 
 The old home in which William Harrison and Mar¬ 
 garet Jordan had reared and educated eleven children 
 was cheerful but not affluent. 
 
 i Weeks, “Southern Quakers and Slavery,” p. 1. 
 
 [ 40 ] 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 In October, 1806, William Harrison 4 summoned all 
 his family in council to discuss what, for the ensuing 
 eleven years, was known in the family as the “Ohio 
 project,” nothing less than an emigration of the en¬ 
 tire Queens Creek flock across the Ohio River to fresh 
 woods and pastures new. The prosperous eldest son, 
 Samuel Jordan Harrison, drove “down” from Lynch¬ 
 burg in state in his carriage. All the family were on 
 hand except one son, William Harrison,5 who, in the 
 greeting he sent, gives a pleasant picture of the gath¬ 
 ering : 
 
 Now, when you are all together by the comfortable fire¬ 
 side [he wrote on October 12, 1806], enjoying that satisfac¬ 
 tion which I know will be derived from the company of each 
 other, and the jocund laugh is going briskly around, think 
 sometimes of me; remember there is one lacking to make the 
 number compleat, one too who longs to he with you and who 
 sincerely loves you all. 
 
 It was determined that the migration should be 
 made. There was some opposition due to natural in¬ 
 ertia, but perhaps the question was settled when 
 Samuel Jordan Harrison archly suggested that in the 
 new environment his younger sisters would have bet¬ 
 ter opportunities to make satisfactory marriages! 
 Harrison Ratcliffe, a son of William Harrison’s sis¬ 
 ter Elizabeth, was despatched to reconnoiter; at 
 length Elisha Bates, the son-in-law, was persuaded 
 to look over the ground; finally, in 1816, a tract of 
 land was purchased near Mount Pleasant, Jef¬ 
 ferson County, Ohio, a house was erected to receive 
 the family, and Jordan Harrison went ahead to pre¬ 
 pare for the reception of his parents. Samuel Jordan 
 Harrison financed these explorations, furnishing a 
 “prime horse” to Elisha Bates for his journey, 
 
 [ 41 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 and to liis father he wrote: “Yon will be furnished 
 by me with a light waggon for you, my dear Mother 
 and family, and a large waggon for your goods and 
 chattels, which I suppose will do for your family.” 
 In 1817 William Harrison 4 sold the Queens Creek 
 property, and, although he was himself then seventy- 
 seven years of age, he and his wife set out 1 on the long 
 journey of over five hundred miles, in wagons, across 
 the mountains, by the great Cumberland Road, then 
 not yet completed to Wheeling; and, after four weeks 
 of toilsome wayfaring, finally reached their destina¬ 
 tion near Mount Pleasant. 
 
 The following journal of the expedition, written by 
 William Harrison’s daughter Deborah, who subse¬ 
 quently married Elisha Kirk in Ohio, has survived: 
 
 A JOURNAL OF OUR JOURNEY TO OHIO 
 
 A farewell to the girls of my particular acquaintance, 
 tvritten a little while before we set off: 
 
 “The time is drawing near at hand 
 When I must bid adieu 
 Not only to my native land 
 But my dear girls to you.” 
 
 The 27th of the 5th Mo. 1817 was a trying day to me being 
 about to remove far away from the place of my nativity— 
 the spot first known to me—much loved and ever to be 
 remembered by me—to leave, yea and to leave it forever—to 
 seek a mansion in a distant land— Farewell dear home— 
 adieu ye pleasant shades—ye valies of pleasure and delight 
 
 i The route they followed to Cumberland was the main north and 
 south highway through Virginia, as it appears on the 1818 edition of 
 Madison’s Map of Virginia. At Winchester it crossed the “Great 
 Waggon Road ’ ’ between Philadelphia and the Carolinas. 
 
 H42] 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 farewell—adieu old Virginia, and to old Skimmino farewell 
 —although I leave you, although I shall remove far beyond 
 the mountains,—never, perhaps to visit or behold you more 
 —you will always be dear to me.—And the recollection of 
 the many happy moments spent by me in sweet enjoyment, 
 whilst I have sometimes wandered o’er your pleasant valies 
 and plains and through your delightful shady bowers, will 
 never be erased from my memory; and sure I am, that I shall 
 never forget this morning ever memorable to me, when I bid 
 a final adieu to the humble, but venerable dwelling that shel¬ 
 tered my childhood, and afforded me a pleasant and happy 
 abode until the present day. 
 
 Fourth day, the 28th— We stayed at Edlows last night 
 having travelled eleven miles from the old mansion and met 
 with very good accommodation. 
 
 Fifth day, the 29tli — We were highly entertained last 
 night with all necessary accommodations, in the house of a 
 private family by the name of Boyd in New Kent County. 
 They treated us with the utmost civility, and on parting 
 wished us a good journey. We felt ourselves under many 
 obligations to them for their politeness and hospitallity, 
 which will no doubt be recollected by us all with gratitude. 
 
 One o’clock— We have just now taken a hearty repast 
 on the road and are about to proceed on our journey. Though 
 my mind frequently travels back to the place of my former 
 abode, and for a moment views and reviews those delightfull 
 scenes to which I have so long been accustomed, I very soon 
 recollect however, that I am engaged in endeavouring to press 
 forward to a new home which is already prepared and where 
 I trust we may be favored to arrive safe and well. We ar¬ 
 rived at Hanover Court House about 9 o’clock— miles from 
 Boyd’s; the evening was very rainy and our accommodations 
 were very bad. 
 
 Sixth day, the 30th — We left Hanover Court House after 
 breakfast and travell’d 18 miles to Todds where we arrived 
 a little before sunset in pretty good health and spirits— 
 though a good deal fatigued: here we met with very good 
 entertainment. We have passed through James City, New 
 
 [ 43 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Kent and Hanover Counties and are now in the County of 
 Caroline. 
 
 Seventh day, the 31st — Since taking a sweet nights rest 
 we all appear to be very much refreshed: it is a fine morning 
 and the birds sing sweetly. 
 
 First day, the 1st of the 6th mo. We travelled 19 mi les 
 yesterday to Battles, where we had very agreeable entertain¬ 
 ment. We breakfasted at that place and have travelled to¬ 
 day 23 miles through the towns of Fredericksburg and Fal¬ 
 mouth and the Counties of Spottsylvania and Stafford to the 
 house of one Blackburn who has received us very civilly, and 
 where we have taken lodging for the night. 
 
 Second day, the 2nd — We set out from Blackburns and 
 travelld 20 miles over some of the roughest road that we have 
 seen at all— we have now been travelling six days and a 
 half and came in sight of the mountains the past afternoon— 
 they have the appearance of a dark cloud just rising above 
 the< Horison. We arrived at Germantown about sunset—at 
 the house of one Yerone (the only house in town) Yerone 
 for that was the name of the landlord was not at home on our 
 arrival, but however his lady gave us admittance, and when 
 he came home from court he said he would rather, as old as 
 he was and that he was 65, maul rails at 2/ a hundred than 
 to keep publick house at the rates he does to take in moving 
 families— but for all that we staid all night. This morning 
 being 3d of mo. very rainy, we willingly would have staid all 
 day but Yerone was not willing that we should do that, for 
 what reason I don’t know, so after preparing our breakfast 
 we left the house of old Yerone and although it continued 
 raining we began to prosecute our journey. 1 
 
 i Germantown was the settlement in Fauquier County (about eight 
 miles south of Warrenton, near Midland Station on the Southern Railway) 
 to which in 1721 the Germans removed from Germanna Ford in Orange 
 County, where Governor Spottswood’s iron industry had been established 
 and failed. Cf. Virginia Historical Magazine, Yol. XIII, p. 368. The 
 hospitality of Germantown in 1817 was fairly matched by that of Ger¬ 
 manna in 1715, when John Fontaine visited it: “The Germans live very 
 miserably. . . . We would tarry here some time, but for want of pro¬ 
 visions we are obliged to go. We got from the minister a bit of smoked 
 
WILLIAM HAKRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 The roads were very wet and muddy—surpassing any¬ 
 thing that ever I saw before, yet we made our way through 
 all and came on 9 miles to the town of Warrenton, Fauquier 
 Courthouse, and are now at the house of one William 
 Warters; here we have met with capital fare. The man and 
 his wife appear to be very accommodating indeed (much 
 more so than old friend Verone) and I am in hopes that we 
 shall not lodge at such another place as that old Verones 
 while we are on our journey. We are now getting among the 
 mountains and have them in view every day— the weather 
 however is very dark and cloudy and prevents our having 
 such a clear prospect as if it were fair. 
 
 Fourth day, the 4th— The weather continues very un¬ 
 likely indeed and some of our company appear to have taken 
 some cold but they all seem in pretty good spirits; it contin¬ 
 ued raining all day and we staid at our friend Warter’s 
 untill this morning the 5th day of the week and Mo th when 
 we set out again and travelled some very rough roads indeed. 
 —We have the mountains fully in view before us and many 
 very fine scenes all around us ; we were taken in a very hard 
 rain which however did not continue long, but it filled the 
 roads very full of water in some places and there are rocks 
 in other places which makes it a little disagreeable travelling. 
 
 Fifth day We travelled 18 miles from Warrenton to 
 Ashes 1 where we met good entertainment and this morning 
 being the 6th of the mo. we crossed Goose Creek and Crooked 
 Run and are just beginning to ascend the mountains. 
 
 After crossing the Blue Ridge 2 we crossed the Shanan- 
 
 beef and cabbage which were very ordinarily and dirtily drest. We 
 passed the night very indifferently, our beds not being very easy.” 
 Journal of John Fontaine, in “Memoirs of a Huguenot Family.” 
 
 1 On the journey from Warrenton to Ashes (the settlement now known 
 as Asheville, near Delaplane) the Harrisons of Skimino passed over the 
 old stage road which runs in sight of Belvoir House, where one of their 
 descendants resides. The same scenery is still to be admired, and, alas! 
 the same muddy and rocky roads are still to be endured, in 1910 as in 
 1817. 
 
 2 They crossed Goose Creek at Delaplane, and joining the Alexandria 
 turnpike at Paris, crossed the Blue Ridge at Ashby’s Gap. 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 doah river in the evening and lodged at the house of one 
 Hesser 12 miles from Ashes. 
 
 Seventh day, the 7th — This is the most delightful morn¬ 
 ing that we have had since we set off; the prospect is very 
 beautiful all around us, hills and vales, fields and woods suc¬ 
 ceed each other in every direction. After taking breakfast 
 we left the house of G. Hesser and travelled 8 or 9 miles and 
 dined on the road. We have a full view of the mountains 
 that we have left behind and those we have now to cross 
 begin to make their appearance. It is very unlike the coun¬ 
 try that we have left behind for tho there are many beauties 
 that are interesting to behold, yet the face of this country is 
 very rough and the fields that are in cultivation have a num¬ 
 ber of large heaps of rock that are heapt for the convenience 
 of those who have to work; there is scarcely any growth of 
 pine. Here and there we meet with some of the spruce pine 
 but very seldom and that but small. From Hessers we came 
 to Winchester 16 miles where we lodged. The town did not 
 answer my expectation entirely. Tho. it very far exceeded 
 any of the towns that we have passed through, for we have 
 come through several which I have not named, for if I were 
 to note every little place of that sort—curiosity or strange 
 sight, it would fill a volume— I shall therefore only notice 
 things that are the most remarkable. 
 
 First day of the week and 8th of the Mo th We came on 
 from Winchester to the house of one Rodamun Enunna- 
 mus, a Dutchman, where we were very well accomodated; 
 the old man is 87 years old and looks well and hearty. 
 
 Second day morning and 9th of Mo th This morning is very 
 rainy indeed. 
 
 Third, day morning and 10th of the month. It continues 
 very unlikely, and we rested yesterday on account of the 
 weather which still continues very wet, but we left the house 
 of Enunnamus after breakfast and came on 13 miles of the 
 worst road that I have ever seen before—rocky, muddy and 
 very mountainous indeed. Still we got along, and crossed the 
 Big Capen and North River and reached the house of John 
 Mecormick where we staid all night—we had good fare here. 
 
WILLIAM HAEEISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 And this being the 11th of 6th Mo th we set out again. 
 The road has been very rough today but not as much so as 
 it was yesterday. We crossed the Potomack about sunset 
 and lodged at the house of one Lavender at Old Town in 
 Maryland. 
 
 12tli of the Mo th This was a fine morning and we have had 
 better roads than we have had for several days; we travelled 
 on the bank of the Potomack all the evening— It was very 
 interesting to me to behold the wonders of nature which 
 seemed to encircle us on either hand; the large mountains 
 that were around seemed to be composed entirely of rock— 
 the appearance of which I had scarcely ever formed any idea 
 of before. It is indeed a very grand prospect to view the 
 mountains at a distance and the beautifull level greens that 
 come on in succession after them. We reached Cumberland 
 in pretty good time 12 miles from Old Town and lodged at 
 the house of one Ryon where we were well accomodated. 
 
 Sixth day the 13th of the Mo th We left Cumberland about 
 half after eight o’clock and entered on the turnpike; this is 
 a very nice road and the prospect before us still continues 
 very beautifull. 
 
 We came on 23 miles on the turnpike. It is very good 
 road but very rough. We lodged at Tomlinsons. We are 
 now crossing the Allegany mountains. 
 
 Seventh day 14th. This is the warmest day we have had 
 since we have been travelling and about 4 o ’clock in the after¬ 
 noon a great storm came on but we were notwithstanding 
 exceedingly favord—having reach’d a house just as the 
 cloud was up. We staid there until it was over and then 
 came on 3 miles further. We observed marks of a great 
 wind all the way on the road as far as the cloud extended— 
 large trees blown down and many limbs split and twisted off 
 and thrown across the road, we could but be thankfull that 
 we had been favour’d to get into a house before the storm. 
 
 First the 15th This morning was very Cloudy and damp; 
 we staid at the house of one Gaither last night; the people 
 were very kind and civil to us at this house indeed. We 
 came a mile and a quarter to what are called the Big Cross¬ 
 ly 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ings in the Yoaghiogeny River and of all the sights that I 
 have ever seen, I think that exceeded any. The river was very 
 deep and rappid and rising very fast, pouring over the rocks 
 in torrents from side to side. There were a number of men 
 at the river, who were very kind in assisting to get the car¬ 
 riages through and helping us to get over. 
 
 There is a very elegant Bridge building at this place and 
 we crossed the river by -walking partly on the planks and 
 partly on the rocks which had been lain for that purpose. 
 It was very dangerous crossing the river in this manner as 
 the Bridge was quite in an unfinished condition and it will 
 no doubt be a long time before it is eompleated. But after 
 it is done I think it will be a grand acquisition to the road 
 indeed. When we reached the shore on this side it was rain¬ 
 ing very fast, still I could not refrain from taking a view 
 of the sublimities of nature which encircled us. The wonder¬ 
 ful mountainous prospect all around us appeared delightfull 
 beyond description. We travelled a few miles further on 
 the turnpike, and after turning off that we had some terrible 
 road indeed full of Rocks and mudd, rather worse than any 
 I have yet seen. We however got along and about sunset 
 reached the house of one Clark where we were very badly 
 accomodated. 
 
 Second day the 16th. This morning fine weather and good 
 health was very great encouragement to us, and indeed had 
 it not been for these and the best courage and strictest perse¬ 
 verance to press forward the appearance of the road was 
 sufficient to have made us shrink at the idea of undertaking 
 it for it seemed next to impossible for us to get along, how¬ 
 ever all of us except the carriage drivers walked, and they 
 made their way on pretty well. We reached the house of B. 
 Freeman in the evening where we put up for the night hav¬ 
 ing travelled only six miles today. 
 
 We met eleven waggons since we dined; the waggoners tell 
 us we have seen nothing like a bad road yet compared with 
 what we shall see, but I think it is next to impossible that 
 there can be much worse road than that which we have pass’d 
 today. 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 Third day 17th We passed today some dreadful! roads on 
 Laurel hill, and are now quite over the Allegany mountains. 
 The prospect from the top of Laurel hill is the most beauti- 
 full of any that I have seen. The Red Stone Country for a 
 number of miles in full view before us and the Mountains of 
 the majestic Allegany that we have passed in full view 
 behind us, discovered at once the most sublime and beautiful 
 scene that I have ever witnessed, and I have often thought 
 that the hills and vales, the rocks and mountains and mighty 
 waters had to me an awful appearance; and I have many 
 times been as it were lost in wonder and astonishment, whilst 
 viewing those delightful scenes. 
 
 Fourth day the 18th. We lodged at the house of one 
 Brownfield last night, in Uniontown and have travelled today 
 10 miles from that place to one Wiggins’s 2 miles east of 
 Brownsville; at this house we met with good accomodations. 
 
 Fifth day the 19th The roads yesterday were [better 
 than] we have had for some [time.] [We came] on today 
 through the town of Brownsville and crossed the Mononga- 
 hala river a little this side of the town; we reached Serjants 
 in pretty good time 141/2 miles from Wiggins’s. 
 
 Sixth day the 20th We came on from Serjants thro 
 Washington in Pennsylvania a very handsome place to the 
 house of one Forner; we were well entertained at their 
 [house] within half a days ride of our [destination.] 
 
 Seventh day the 21st A very unlikely [misfortune] some 
 of our company a good deal indisposed. There came on a 
 very heavy rain which detained us several hours. Our friend 
 Charles Osborn came by the house we lodged at last night 
 and spent some time with us which was very pleasing to us 
 indeed. We came on today six and a half miles through very 
 wet slippery road (occationd by this rain) to Middletown, 
 where we staid all night at the house of one Lindsey; the 
 people at this house were very polite and obliging. 
 
 [First day the 22d.] We came [in sight of the] River 
 Ohio and the State of [Ohio on the] evening of this day— 
 Now this is [the goal] we have been aiming for, four [weeks] 
 ever since we left our former residence. We have been very 
 
 [49] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 much favored in getting through every difficulty which we 
 have had to encounter on the way, for which I think we ought 
 to be very tliankfull. We lodge tonight at the house of John 
 Flien in Charlestown which is situate on the eastern bank 
 of the Kiver Ohio in Virginia. 
 
 Second day morning and 23rd of the 6tli Mo th This is a 
 fine morning and we are all filled with peace. We have 
 crossed the river safe and well and expect to come in sight of 
 our abode about four o’clock in the evening. We have been 
 four weeks on the road and have come upwards of 500 miles. 
 Amen. 
 
 At Mount Pleasant, in the midst of a settlement of 
 Virginia Friends, 1 William Harrison, in the phrase 
 of the heralds, “ seated himself” for the remainder 
 of his life, and there he died March 13, 1819. His 
 wife, Margaret Jordan, survived until 1831, and 
 died in Ohio in her eighty-sixth year. Joining thus, 
 like his great-great-grandfather Richard, in the 
 western movement of a race, William Harrison be¬ 
 came in his old age a child of the nineteenth century, 
 a link with the past. From the serene quiet of an old 
 plantation in tide-water Virginia, he experienced the 
 alarums and excursions of the modern world. One 
 
 i That the Jordan and Bates faith was handed down to the family in 
 Ohio appears from the fact that Elisha Bates, who married Margaret 
 Jordan’s daughter, Sarah Jordan Harrison, became the leader of the 
 Mount Pleasant Meeting, and Jordan Harrison its clerk. Having be¬ 
 come involved in the Hieksite schism, they published together at Mount 
 Pleasant in 1824 a learned and pious tract entitled “Doctrines of 
 Friends, ’ ’ a copy of which is in the Congressional Library. In William 
 Hodgson’s history of “The Society of Friends,” p. 246, it is recorded: 
 
 ‘ ‘ Elisha Bates, a minister of Mount Pleasant, Ohio, through unwatch¬ 
 fulness, was caught with the new views, and going to England in the year 
 1833, and again in 1836, greatly strengthened this innovating spirit, by 
 joining with those who were openly repudiating some of our funda¬ 
 mental principles.” 
 
 It is an interesting evidence of the fact that Quakerism had run its 
 course, that Elisha Bates became a Methodist in 1838. 
 
 [501] 
 
WILLIAM HARRISON OF SKIMINO 
 
 can picture him gazing curiously at the crowded traffic 
 of the Cumberland Road, at “those who passed over 
 its stately stretches and dusty coils, at stage- and mail- 
 coach drivers, express carriers and wagoners, and the 
 tens of thousands of passengers and immigrants who 
 composed the public which patronized the great high¬ 
 way. This was the real life of the road, coaches 
 numbering as many as twenty traveling in a single 
 line; wagon-house yards where a hundred tired horses 
 rested overnight beside their great loads; hotels where 
 seventy transient guests have been served breakfast 
 in a single morning; a life made cheery by the echoing 
 horns of hurrying stages; blinded by the dust of 
 droves of cattle numbering unto the thousands; a life 
 noisy with the satisfactory creak and crunch of the 
 wheels of great wagons carrying six and eight thou¬ 
 sand pounds of freight east and west.” 1 The same 
 journey over substantially the same route from Wil¬ 
 liamsburg can be taken to-day in fifteen hours in the 
 comfort of a Pullman car, and in doing it one cannot 
 but feel a thrill of admiration for the spirit and vigor 
 of that old man’s emigration. 
 
 In 1889 Mrs. Lucy Harrison Webster, a daughter of 
 Elisha Bates, then in her eighty-fourth year, recorded 
 her recollections of her grandparents William Harri¬ 
 son and Margaret Jordan in their old age and new 
 home : 
 
 When a child, I spent weeks and months at grandfather 
 —or as we used always to say—grand mother Harrison’s. 
 With me, as I presume it is with all very aged persons, a 
 great many of the scenes and incidents of my life are clean 
 gone from my recollection, but the memory of the happy 
 days spent at grandmother Harrison’s, fresh and vivid, has 
 
 1 A. B. Hulbert, “Historic Highways of America—The Cumberland 
 Road,” p. 119. 
 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 outlived the years. Of grandfather, almost every trace, as 
 to his personal appearance, has passed from my mind. The 
 shadowy image of him which I yet retain in memory, is that 
 of a man rather above the medium height, of dark com¬ 
 plexion, silent, and with a manner which did not encourage 
 familiarity—at least in children. 
 
 On the occasions of my visits at grandmother’s, it was my 
 duty to wait upon her,—to do her bidding in all things, a 
 duty which always gave me the greatest delight. In imag¬ 
 ination, I can even now seem to hear the sound of her loved 
 voice, to see her, as she sat in her accustomed seat at the 
 fireside, busy with her knitting needles—to feel her tender 
 caress, or the gentle pressure of her hand, as she held my 
 own, while we strolled in the garden, or walked together to 
 the spring—her favorite recreations. 
 
 Grandmother, as I remember her, was a small woman. 
 Her hair, originally light in color, was soft and silky, and 
 almost snowy white. Her eyes were bright, her features 
 strongly marked, especially a prominent nose—and her coun¬ 
 tenance expressive of great intelligence. Her disposition 
 was affectionate and her manner very pleasing and attractive. 
 Although she was very aged as I remember her, yet she was 
 the sole mistress of her household, controlling and directing 
 all its affairs. Yet she ruled by love. I have no remembrance 
 of anything like sternness or severity in either her words or 
 her manner. She was revered by the entire family, and 
 waited upon devotedly by every member of it. She was a 
 great reader—especially of the Bible, and writings of the 
 Friends. No day passed that she did not read to us one or 
 more chapters from the Bible. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG (1771-1846) 
 
 S AMUEL JORDAN HARRISON, the eldest son 
 of William Harrison, the Quaker, was born on the 
 Queens Creek plantation at Skimino, March 26, 1771. 
 His brother-in-law, Edward Bates, had established in 
 York County a school for Quaker children, and there 
 Mr. Harrison and his brothers received a training in 
 good English. Both William 5 and Jordan gave evi¬ 
 dence of this by their facility with their pens and the 
 imagination which dictated their letters, 1 but their 
 older brother’s style is more that of an unemotional 
 man of business, yet he had a wit which was at all 
 times lambent. 
 
 The only record of his earlier adventures is con¬ 
 tained in the entries in his father’s note-book: 
 
 April 14,1783. To 1 slate for Sammy at.... 0. 1.3. 
 Deer. 20,1783. Paid for watch and breeches for 
 
 Sammy.0.16.0. 
 
 May 5,1784. Bought 1 hat for Sam 1 at . . . 0. 3.0. 
 
 August 1,1785. Sent my son Samuel to school to Edward 
 Bates. 
 
 December 10,1785. Paid Edward Bates 3 shillings 8 pence 
 for teaching Samuel J. Harrison one and one half months. 
 
 i Prior to 1786 the Harrisons of Skimino had written few letters, be¬ 
 cause they lived surrounded by their friends and family connections; 
 but from the time that the sons of William Harrison went out into the 
 world they were diligent correspondents, with the result that there sur¬ 
 vives to-day, in the possession of Mr. William Jordan Harrison of Mount 
 Pleasant, Ohio, a record of their comings and goings and of their daily 
 life and interests in Virginia, contained in letters, covering the period 
 from 1786 to 1819, when the head of the family died. 
 
 C53] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 He was strictly held to the usages of the Society of 
 Friends so long as he remained under his father’s 
 dominion, and on his twenty-first birthday, March 26, 
 1792, is recorded in York Court as emancipating a 
 slave, “Edw. Taylor, aged 25,” in the presence of his 
 father and Edward Bates, but he later became a slave¬ 
 holder again. At eighteen Samuel Jordan Harrison 
 left Queens Creek and set out into the world to carve 
 his own fortune. His father records: ‘‘ My son Samuel 
 J. Harrison left home to go to live with Joseph An¬ 
 thony, Merchant in Lynchburg, the 27 of 8 mo. 1789.” 
 While his own immediate family had remained behind, 
 seated on their inherited acres, many of his kinsmen 
 had, throughout the eighteenth century, steadily 
 pushed a way up the Virginia peninsula from York 
 and James City, and thence along the Chickahominy 
 into Henrico, leaving their records in the parish regis¬ 
 ters as they went. “Without haste, without rest,” 
 they obeyed the race instinct, the immediate quest 
 being virgin soil whereon to cultivate the rites of the 
 great Virginia god, “Tobo.” 
 
 When Samuel Jordan Harrison left the parental 
 nest, it was to go still farther west, to follow the valley 
 of the James to the foot of the Blue Bidge. Here on 
 the waters of the branches of the James, Rivanna or 
 North River and Fluvanna or South River, was one 
 of the most interesting parts of Virginia. Captain 
 Christopher Newport had explored the James as far 
 as where “this river devyds itselfe” as early as 1608, 
 and in 1612 William Strachey described the country, 
 rehearsing the Indian statement that from the top of 
 the Blue Ridge, which Strachey did not reach, a salt 
 sea was visible to the west; but it was not until the 
 eighteenth century that the country was settled. The 
 historian Alexander Brown describes the settlement 
 
 C543 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 as within the span of the life in Virginia of Dr. Wil¬ 
 liam Cabell, the immigrant of that name, from 1724 
 to 1774: 
 
 When he arrived in Virginia, the settlements generally 
 were within easy reach of tide-water. When settled on Lick¬ 
 ing-Hole Creek, about 1726, his home was on the frontier. 
 Westward to the mountains was an almost unknown region, 
 a wilderness of wild woods filled with wild animals, wild 
 Indians, and wild legends. When he died, this forest was a 
 fairly settled country. The old Indian war-path through the 
 Rockfish gap of the Blue Ridge, and the buffalo trail along 
 the Buffalo Ridge, had become public roads, and the Indian 
 himself was “a memory and no more.” Much of the pre¬ 
 liminary and rough work of society for this section had been 
 done. The lands were generally occupied. Many planta¬ 
 tions were settled and partially cleared. Necessary build¬ 
 ings, including mansions of more or less comfort, had been 
 erected and roads opened for public and social intercourse. 
 The country exhibited flocks and herds, fields of grain and 
 tobacco gardens and orchards. A foundation had been laid 
 for a respectable and advancing society. And that society, 
 inhaling the free air of the mountains, was even then prepar¬ 
 ing to assert its own independence. 
 
 What gives peculiar interest to the region is the 
 diverse character and races of the settlers. Natives 
 of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania here met 
 immigrants direct from England, Scotland, and Wales, 
 and even some Huguenots and Germans. The region 
 thus became one of the first nests of the modern 
 American—the man of diverse nationality: 
 
 These settlers came by different routes, one stream coming 
 up James River, a second up the York and its tributaries 
 until it joined a third coming down Piedmont Virginia on 
 the east side of the mountains; while a fourth stream came 
 down the Valley, west of the mountains through Wood’s 
 
 £55 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 (now Jarman’s) and Rockfish gaps. These streams met and 
 mingled their breeds along the waters of the two branches 
 of James River, and scattered their race from Kentucky to 
 California. 1 
 
 On the south bank of Fluvanna was a trading-post 
 for Scots merchants called New London, which, in 
 1746, was made the county-seat of Lunenburg. 2 Here 
 concentrated a considerable commerce, and induced 
 John Lynch, 3 the son of an Irish immigrant who had 
 taken up a large body of land in this vicinity, to estab¬ 
 lish a ferry on his property in 1757. Lynch’s Ferry 
 was the head of the bateau navigation by which the 
 trade with the lower country was conducted, and after 
 New London had been destroyed by Colonel Tarleton 
 during the Revolution, there grew up a new settlement 
 about the ferry. In October, 1786, it was enacted by 
 the General Assembly: 
 
 that forty-five acres of land, the property of John Lynch and 
 lying contiguous to Lynch’s Ferry, are hereby vested in John 
 
 1 Alexander Brown, ‘ ‘ The Cabells and their Kin, ’ ’ pp. 66, 67. 
 
 2 New London is known to Virginia history chiefly as the scene of 
 Patrick Henry’s discomfiture of the Tory, John Hook, whom he de¬ 
 feated in the collection of a just debt by forensic tactics similar to 
 those employed by Portia against Shylock. Cf. W. W. Henry’s ‘ ‘ Patrick 
 Henry,” Vol. II, p. 482. 
 
 3 It was a brother to John Lynch, the founder of Lynchburg, who 
 gave his name to “lynch law.” During the Bevolution the depreda¬ 
 tions of the Tories in Piedmont Virginia were so brutal, and police law 
 was in such abeyance, that a group of patriots under the leadership of 
 Colonel Charles Lynch undertook to arrest, try, and punish the Tory 
 marauders, trusting to the rectitude of their intentions for their justifi¬ 
 cation; and this they obtained in 1782 by act of the General Assembly. 
 Cf. J. E. Cutler’s “Lynch Law” (1905) and an interesting controversy 
 on the subject in Notes and Queries, 10 S., xi, xii. The “law” which 
 was so summarily administered under a tree said to be still standing, 
 near New London, has since been practised in many doubtful cases; it 
 belongs to the limbo of that “unwritten law” which has disgraced the 
 modern jurisprudence of Virginia. 
 
 C56] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 Clarke, Adam Clement, Charles Lynch, John Calloway, 
 Achilles Douglass, William Martin, Jesse Burton, Joseph 
 Stratton, Micajah Moorman and Charles Brooks, gentlemen, 
 trustees, to be by them, or any six of them, laid off into lots 
 of half acre each with convenient streets, and to establish a 
 town by the name of Lynchburg. 
 
 The first meeting of these trustees was held on 
 May 8, 1787, and thereafter the new town was for¬ 
 mally laid off and urban life began. Tobacco ware¬ 
 houses were built, and a flourishing trade in that 
 staple was at once opened with the surrounding coun¬ 
 try, and this, with flour-milling, continued with ever- 
 increasing importance to be the chief business of 
 Lynchburg until the end of the nineteenth century; in 
 1830 it had become the largest tobacco “inspection” 
 in the United States, then handling from fifteen to 
 eighteen thousand hogsheads annually. The plant¬ 
 ers “rolled” their tobacco into the town warehouses 
 in revolving hogsheads drawn by horses; there it 
 was “broken” by licensed inspectors, graded, and 
 sold to professional buyers, who shipped their pur¬ 
 chases down the James to tide-water at Richmond. 
 Until the James River and Kanawha Canal was 
 opened in 1839, these shipments, like the earlier ship¬ 
 ment of ore described in Jefferson’s “Notes,” were 
 made in bateaux, boats adapted to the shallow river, 
 which were from 40 to 50 feet in length, 4 to 5 feet 
 wide, and 2 feet deep. They were manned by three 
 boatmen and took a week to make the voyage to Rich¬ 
 mond, and ten days to return with their loads of mer¬ 
 chandise. 1 Dr. Bagby, the editor of the Southern 
 
 1 It is of interest to note that the freight rate was $1 per 100 
 pounds, while the rate of the much-abused railroads to-day for tobacco 
 in car-loads between Lynchburg and Richmond is 17 cents per 100 
 pounds, to say nothing of the saving in time and insurance. 
 
 C57] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Literary Messenger, lias described the picturesque 
 features of these voyages: 
 
 If a man ever gloried in liis calling, the negro bateauman 
 was that man. His was a hardy calling, demanding skill, 
 courage, and strength in a high degree. I can see him now 
 striding the plank that ran along the gunwale to afford him 
 a footing, his long iron-shod pole trailing in the water behind 
 him. Now he turns, and after one or two ineffectual efforts 
 to get his pole fixed in the rocky bottom of the river secures 
 his purchase, adjusts the upper point of the pole to the pad 
 at his shoulder, bends to his task, and the long but not un¬ 
 graceful bark mounts the rapids like a sea-bird breasting the 
 storm. His companion on the other side plies the pole with 
 equal ardor, and between the two the boat bravely mounts 
 every obstacle, be it rocks, rapids, quicksands, hummocks, 
 what not. A third negro at the stern held the mighty oar 
 that served as a rudder. A stalwart, jolly, courageous set 
 they were, plying the pole all day, hauling in to shore at 
 night under the friendly shade of a mighty sycamore to 
 rest, eat, to play the banjo, and to snatch a few hours of pro¬ 
 found, blissful sleep. 
 
 Quakers from the tide-water families liad been 
 among the earliest settlers of the region watered by 
 the branches of the James. In 1739 a meeting-house 
 was constructed for their convenience on Cedar Creek, 
 in Hanover; ten years later another was established 
 near the Sugar Loaf Mountains at Stony Point, in the 
 present Albemarle County; and in 1757, at the in¬ 
 stance of John Lynch, who was a Quaker, South River 
 Meeting was established on the Fluvanna, some three 
 or four miles south of the site where Lynchburg sub¬ 
 sequently became a town. One of the chief men in 
 South River Meeting was Christopher Anthony, who 
 had married Mary Jordan, a sister of William Harri¬ 
 son’s wife, and as early as 1786 there was an inter- 
 
 CSS] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 change of visits between the Queens Creek plantation 
 and Christopher Anthony’s house in the smiling Pied¬ 
 mont country, within sight of the towering blue spires 
 of the Peaks of Otter. So, when Samuel Jordan Har¬ 
 rison set out from home to seek his fortunes, it was 
 natural that he should establish himself near his An¬ 
 thony cousins, and we find him enrolled in South 
 River Meeting February 6, 1790. He entered the em¬ 
 ploy of Joseph Anthony, a brother to his uncle Chris¬ 
 topher Anthony, and after a brief service at Lynchburg 
 was sent out to take charge of Joseph Anthony’s 
 stores on Goose Creek and Seneca River in Bedford 
 County. He exhibited a business ability from the first 
 and carefully saved his meager wages; so that after 
 several years he was enabled to set up in business for 
 himself at Lynchburg, where a growing trade prom¬ 
 ised the largest measure of business opportunity. 
 Despite the proximity of South River Meeting, Lynch¬ 
 burg was then considered a godless place. “In 1800 
 there were 500 inhabitants, but not a church in town; 
 almost the only persons who claimed to lie Christians 
 were the few families of Quakers.” 1 The existence 
 of Freemasonry in the town was a direful portent to 
 the Friends. 2 Under a charter received November 8, 
 
 1 Christian, ‘ ‘ Lynchburg and its People, ’ ’ p. 29. 
 
 2 Mrs. Cabell writes: ‘ ‘ The old Masonic Hall of Lynchburg stood on 
 the spot where the new one now rears its head. It was a common two- 
 story building, without device or ornament to distinguish it from the 
 surrounding houses; yet it was held in great awe by the children, who 
 generally avoided that side of the street under the firm impression that 
 his Satanic Majesty was kept chained in the cellar below, and it was 
 also believed that up-stairs there were piles of coffins and horrors suf¬ 
 ficient with tolerable economy to have lasted Mrs. Radcliffe through at 
 least one romance. Yet Masonry flourished in Lynchburg, processions 
 were numerous, and as they generally paraded Church Street, the sound 
 of wind-instruments, by which they were always preceded, was hailed 
 with joy by the numerous candidates for learning who sat within the 
 
 [ 59 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 1793, a lodge was organized under the name Marshall 
 Lodge No. 39, A. F. and A. M., and early the 
 following year Samuel Jordan Harrison became a 
 Mason and secretary of the lodge. He must have 
 realized that this step, dictated by a natural exuber¬ 
 ance of good fellowship, would give pain to his father 
 and mother and involve discipline by the Friends, but 
 he deliberately burst the shackles of Quaker preju¬ 
 dice. The letter which his father wrote him on this 
 occasion has been quoted, and the records of South 
 River Meeting show that that society took action also: 
 
 South River, 15th of 3rd month, 1794. A complaint was 
 brought into this meeting from the preparative meeting 
 against Sam’l J. Harrison for joining and associating with 
 those called Masons, who appeared in the exercise of swords 
 and musical instruments. Micajah Davis, John Lynch and 
 William Pidgeon are appointed to visit him and report to 
 this meeting. 
 
 What this committee reported to South River Meet¬ 
 ing is not recorded, but the incident resulted in Mr. 
 Harrison’s definite withdrawal from the practices of 
 his father’s faith. He was known thenceforth among 
 the Friends as a “Hickory,” and when he married 
 in 1801, it was not in a Quaker family. 
 
 At Lynchburg, Mr. Harrison established himself in 
 business as a merchant, but he soon concentrated his 
 business upon a wholesale handling of flour, which in 
 turn gave way to the even more profitable tobacco; 
 and in this pursuit he achieved substantial success. 
 In a few years he became and long continued the pur¬ 
 chasing agent in Virginia of the French government 
 
 different schools of that section, . . . and they would return to their 
 labors refreshed by the pleasing sight of the whole Masonic fraternity 
 marching two and two with blue scarfs and Mason’s aprons. ’ ’ 
 
 C 60 ] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 regie. Late in life he established a tobacco manufac¬ 
 tory in Lynchburg and shipped his product all over 
 the country. His specialty was the finer grades of 
 tobacco. In 1811 his younger brother, William Harri¬ 
 son^ who had followed him to Lynchburg, wrote home 
 to Queens Creek on “ 4 mo. 7 ”: 
 
 Not much Tobacco has been inspected for a week or two 
 past, and what has been is vastly inferior, in fact the quality 
 of the crop is much below what it was last year. The little 
 really fine that comes in sells high and falls chiefly into the 
 hands of Brother Samuel, who has the most decided prefer¬ 
 ence among the Planters, indeed every description of men 
 among them appear to believe that the whole business is 
 dependent upon him and that his influence governs all—as 
 the prospects have been and still continue to be so bad he 
 has this year acted pretty much on the defensive, so as not to 
 suffer that which is really fine to pass out of his hands, and I 
 suppose there scarcely ever was so good a parcell as he now 
 holds; of a little upwards of Two hundred hhds. 
 
 In September, 1794, Mr. Harrison was in Philadel¬ 
 phia on business, and there had an experience which 
 came near being his last. 
 
 During the last ten years of the eighteenth century, 
 Philadelphia was desolated by malignant yellow fever. 
 The worst epidemic was in 1793, when, during a 
 period of 101 days from August 1 to November 9, 
 there were 4031 burials from this cause, among a 
 population of 25,000—one sixth of the living had been 
 swept away by the terrible plague. The population 
 was panic-stricken. “Every notion for relief that an 
 erratic imagination could devise was tried: some 
 constantly smoked tobacco, even women and children 
 did so; others chewed garlic; no one ventured abroad 
 without a handkerchief or a sponge saturated with 
 
 [ 61 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 vinegar to apply to the nostrils; no one ventured to 
 shake hands.” 1 
 
 Dr. Benjamin Rush (1745-1813), the signer of the 
 Declaration of Independence, was the leading physi¬ 
 cian in Philadelphia in 1793, as for many years there¬ 
 after. He put into practice a method of treating yel¬ 
 low fever—which he derived from a manuscript of 
 Dr. John Mitchell of Urbana, Virginia, narrating ex¬ 
 periences in a similar epidemic in 1741—based upon 
 copious bleeding of the patient. Dr. Rush is said to 
 have saved 6000 lives by this method, but his principal 
 service was that to science in the deduction that yellow 
 fever is not contagious, but is indigenous. Although 
 Dr. Rush received the recognition of medals and deco¬ 
 rations from several foreign potentates, the extremity 
 of his methods of treatment made him many enemies, 
 and William Cobbett, who was editing a newspaper in 
 Philadelphia at the time, attacked him so violently as 
 to warrant a suit for libel in which Dr. Rush recovered 
 a verdict for $5000 damages, which he distributed 
 among the poor; the result being to ruin Cobbett and 
 drive him back to England. Mr. Harrison’s letter to 
 his father and mother, describing his personal expe¬ 
 rience with Dr. Rush in 1794, is an interesting human 
 document in the history of this scourge, and would 
 seem to justify almost anything “Peter Porcupine” 
 could have said: 
 
 Richmond, Novr. 14th— 1794. 
 
 I wrote you about the 1st of Sepr., which I suppose you 
 have reed. 
 
 I proceeded on my way to the North and arrived safe in 
 Philadelphia, in good Health But was unfortunately taken 
 with the yellow fever that prevailed there last fall— I was 
 
 i Life of Stephen Girard, National Cyclopaedia of American Biog¬ 
 raphy, Vol. VII, p. 11. Samuel Jordan Harrison, writing to his father 
 
 C 62 J 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 advised by my acquaintances there to employ Dr. Rush who 
 was said to be the most eminent Phisician among the whole— 
 He waited on me for three weeks, tho’ my illness only contin¬ 
 ued violent for thirteen days, during which time he bled me 
 Twelve Times, Ten oz. ea. Time & gave me forty-eight blis¬ 
 ters. On the 13th day, I was given out for a dead man & 
 several Doctors called in to consult, who all pronounced me 
 gone, but one, 1 who took me in hand & made use of the most 
 desperate means I suppose that ever were practised on a man 
 Before—which was putting of Blisters on me and Rubbing 
 a Spoonfull of mercury on my teeth, which threw me in a 
 most violent salivation, which the Doctors say was the only 
 thing that saved me—the disorder being thought very infec¬ 
 tious. The Doctor ordered a coffin to be made ready which 
 was done so that you may guess how far I was gone, espe¬ 
 cially w r hen I tell you I did not for the 13 days (which was 
 the time violence of the fever lasted) eat or drink one spoon- 
 full of anything under the sun—and notwithstanding I have 
 been a month recovering I now can hardly go about, have had 
 several little relapses, & have been obliged to turn out as soon 
 as I could well creep, to see about my business, fatigued 
 many times into a fever & forced to bed for several days 
 together—and riding here in the stage was a great task 
 indeed. I arrived on the 7th Inst, at this Place—I think 
 with the most Polite Treatment from Sam’l Pleasants, dined 
 with him as many as half a doz times by invitation—and 
 Bought about £800 worth of goods of him—and notwith¬ 
 standing I have been unfortunate in getting sick, I have been 
 very fortunate in transacting all my business to advantage— 
 I have bot. a most excellent assortment of goods to the amount 
 
 on September 28, 1783, from Lynchburg, where the epidemic was feared, 
 said: “We burn tar and flash gunpowder in our houses to keep off the 
 infection if possible.” It would seem that these precautions were not 
 altogether foolish, as, under the now accepted theory of the cause of 
 yellow fever, they are tended to act as mosquito fuges. 
 
 1 The physician who prescribed the mercury treatment was undoubt¬ 
 edly Dr. John Redman (1722-1808). He practised in Philadelphia and 
 advocated bleeding in yellow fever, but with a difference. “He em¬ 
 ployed mercury freely, ’ ’ say the books of reference. 
 
 L 63)] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 of £2500 on Better Terms than I ever bot. in Virginia & have 
 no doubt of doing well with them. 
 
 I fully intended to have given you a call this time, But 
 my business kept me here & its being now so late, that it 
 would just ruin me to be one week from Home; & having been 
 lucky enough to send on all my goods to the store & expect to 
 leave this tomorrow myself. I shall be down this Winter, 
 when I hope my situation will not be as pressing as now. 
 
 My expenses during my illness were one hundred dollars, 
 besides Board. One thing I will not omit which I think 
 extraordinary that of keeping the whole time in my perfect 
 Senses. I am in great haste and hardly time to turn around, 
 hope you are well & will excuse me for not calling. I shall 
 be glad to hear from you soon. Please to make my respects 
 to all my Relations. 1 
 
 i Christopher Anthony of Lynchburg, who for many years was one of 
 the leaders of the Virginia bar, and was first cousin to Samuel Jordan 
 Harrison, underwent a similar experience with Dr. Eush in 1798. His 
 daughter Mrs. Cabell says, in her ‘ ‘ Sketches and Becollections of Lynch¬ 
 burg ’ ’: 
 
 ‘ ‘ During this visit, Mr. Anthony was seized with a tedious intermit¬ 
 tent fever, and, being attended by Dr. Eush, he nearly fell a victim to 
 the disease, or to the remedy, which was a preparation of arsenic, then 
 recently introduced into the medical world, and administered for ague 
 and fever. Dr. Eush intrusted to the landlady a phial containing this 
 medicine, but she, misunderstanding his prescription, instead of adminis¬ 
 tering it in small portions, gave him the greater part of it at once; and, 
 in consequence of this mistake, Mr. Anthony received for some weeks 
 the personal attention of Dr. Eush, deriving from his friendship and ac¬ 
 quaintance pleasant impressions which remained with him through life. ’ ’ 
 
 Mrs. Cabell records another of Mr. Anthony’s reminiscences of this 
 visit to Philadelphia: 
 
 “He found the city in commotion; the piracies on the high seas, the 
 threatened war with France, and anticipated troubles with England, 
 had so excited the public mind, that every apprehension was felt that 
 our country would soon be again involved in war, both by land and sea. 
 Public amusements were discontinued, the theater was nightly opened 
 to vacant boxes; the benefit night of a favorite young actor approach¬ 
 ing, Judge Hopkinson was induced by his persuasions to write some¬ 
 thing patriotic, to be sung on that occasion, as nothing short of an 
 absolute novelty could procure an audience. Accordingly, the song 
 ‘Hail, Columbia! ’ was written, and its announcement drew a crowded 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 Lynchburg was incorporated by act of the General 
 Assembly on January 10, 1805, and the first corpora¬ 
 tion court was held May 6, 1805. It is indicative of 
 the position which Mr. Harrison then held in the com¬ 
 munity that be was chosen as one of the four aider- 
 men who, with the mayor and recorder, organized the 
 municipal government, and two years later be was 
 promoted to be recorder. 1 These were the only public 
 offices be ever sought or held; though be always took 
 a lively interest in politics, be was too keenly absorbed 
 in bis assured business to venture into that restless 
 and uncertain sea. 
 
 About this time he began an agreeable acquain¬ 
 tance with Thomas Jefferson, which was to have a 
 potent influence upon the career of his son. In 
 1809 Mr. Harrison purchased from the former Presi¬ 
 dent some land in Bedford County, a part of Mr. 
 Jefferson’s Poplar Forest estate, lying west of Lynch¬ 
 burg. Some complication in the title having devel¬ 
 oped, Mr. Harrison hesitated about paying the third 
 and final annual instalment of the purchase-money 
 until he should be indemnified, with the result that he 
 received a despairing letter from Mr. Jefferson, which 
 painfully illustrates the financial difficulties which 
 were to embitter the philosopher’s old age: 
 
 house. The scruples of the young Quaker being removed, he attended 
 the theater on that night, and he often spoke with gratification of the 
 impression produced by hearing this song sung for the first time. The 
 enthusiasm of the audience knew no bounds, and the song was called for 
 again and again. ’ ’ 
 
 Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842), the author of “Hail, Columbia!” 
 wrote the song in the summer of 1798 for the benefit of an actor and 
 former schoolmate named Fox. He was a lawyer and was counsel for 
 Dr. Rush in the libel suit against Cobbett. 
 
 1 Christian, “Lynchburg and its People,” p. 31. His grandson, 
 Samuel Jordan Harrison, son of William Harrison,6 is recorder of the 
 city of Hannibal, Missouri, in 1910. 
 
 [ 65 ^ 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Montieello Apr. 2. 12. 
 
 Sir: 
 
 \ our letter of Mar. 13. was not received till yesterday. It 
 has given me the deepest concern. Engagements to make 
 paiments founded solely on your bond, which I deemed as 
 good as a bank note, are now immediately falling due, and I 
 have no resource, on so short warning, but that, to cover me 
 from the mortification, and the consequences of failure. I 
 cannot yet but persuade myself that, on reconsidering this 
 case, you will perceive that the grounds you alledge for with¬ 
 holding paiment are such as neither law nor equity will 
 warrant; that it is impossible it can be just or lawful for you 
 to hold both the land and the price, and that, sensible of this, 
 you will yet comply with your engagement, and relieve me 
 from the distresses, into which the failure will throw me. 
 That Scott may have brought a suit against you and myself is 
 possible, altho’ I doubt it, because it has been long said, & 
 yet no proofs has ever been served on me; however it would 
 be quite in the character of the man, so well known to you, 
 and which no one to whom it is known would consider as 
 justifying the least presumption of right. It is not every 
 frivolous pretension of claim from a third person which au¬ 
 thorizes the purchaser of property to refuse paiment: it 
 must be a plausible, and even a probable claim: were it other¬ 
 wise, what a door would be open to breach of engagements, 
 as there cannot exist a title against which unfounded claims 
 may not be set up. Is it possible to urge a more frivolous 
 one than that of a subsequent, against a prior grant? and in 
 a case too wdiere two juries, an ordinary one of 12 men, and 
 a grand inquest of 24, had found it so groundless that they 
 would not even retire for consultation. Again, whatever his 
 pretensions were, you knew them, you were present at the 
 inquests, heard them explained and exposed, witnessed the 
 abandonment of them by Scott’s counsel, and their under¬ 
 taking that I should have no more trouble from them, on my 
 agreeing not to institute any prosecution against Scott: so 
 
SAMUEL JOEDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 palpable was all this, that after the verdict of the jury, you 
 accepted the deed, and the possession, made paiment, on the 
 ground, of the first £400 and after a year’s further considera¬ 
 tion, made a second similar paiment. Had then Mr. Scott’s 
 pretensions been much more plausible, your knolege of them 
 at the time,your conclusion of the bargain with your eyes open, 
 your receiving the title & possession with a full view of them, 
 were a bar to your refusing full execution of the contract on 
 your part: your entering into it with a complete knolege of 
 all these circumstances amounted to a covenant to execute it 
 without regard to them, and to rely, for ultimate security, 
 on my general warranty against all persons whatever. That 
 covenant of warranty still exists, and a consciousness of my 
 own circumstances persuades me that a Chancellor could not 
 be made to believe that if you should pay me the remaining 
 £400 I should not be able to repay it on any eviction of the 
 title, and yet this is the only ground on which he would inter¬ 
 pose a suspension. These positions will, I am persuaded, be 
 confirmed to you by any lawyer, of science in his profession, 
 whom you may consult. I hope therefore that, on a review 
 of all these circumstances, you will feel the justice of going 
 through with your contract, and of considering mine to war¬ 
 rant your title a sufficient security, as you considered it at 
 the time of accepting the deed; and the rather as I put you 
 into possession of the title papers which prove it all but im¬ 
 possible that any other person can have a title paramount to 
 mine. However, if you really apprehend that, even in the 
 case of my death, my property would not be good for such 
 a sum as £400, I am ready to remove that fear. Name the 
 portion of my lands at the Poplar Forest which you shall 
 deem a sufficient security, and name your own trustees, and 
 I will convey it to them with a power to sell it the moment 
 a decision shall be given in favor of Scott’s title. Or, if you 
 prefer personal security, I will give you as good as the State 
 can furnish. If you think neither of these propositions 
 would sufficiently secure you, then let us put the case at once 
 into legal course, and settle it without delay: that is to say, 
 
 C673 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 let a writ be issued on the bond in my name; apply yourself 
 to the Chancellor with a bill of injunction, which I will 
 answer on the spot, and if the Chancellor gives an injunction, 
 I, of course acquiesce. All this can be done in the course of 
 one fortnight. Some one of these three propositions will I 
 trust be acceded to by you. I shall be at the Poplar Forest 
 within about a fortnight from this date, within which time 
 a just revision of the subject will I hope have corrected your 
 first views of it, and dispose you, by doing me justice, to 
 enable me to fulfil my engagements to others, and relieve me 
 from the distressing situation into which a continuance of 
 the refusal will place me. Accept the assurance of my esteem 
 & respect 
 
 Mr. Samuel J. Harrison 
 Lynchburg 
 
 Th. Jefferson 
 
 This business complication was fortunately solved 
 to the satisfaction of both parties. Mr. Jefferson gave 
 security, got his £400, and continued for the remainder 
 of his life to cultivate the most cordial friendship with 
 Mr. Harrison. The author of the Declaration had 
 built a curious octagonal house at Poplar Forest; and 
 thither he used to journey every spring and autumn 
 with two of his granddaughters to escape the turmoil 
 of visitors who were then wont to make Monticello a 
 hotel. He received his Bedford neighbors with kindly 
 hospitality, among them Mr. Harrison. “On such oc¬ 
 casions,” says one of Jefferson’s granddaughters, 
 “we dined about three, and ... he liked to sit over 
 his wine, though he never took more than three glasses 
 and these after, and not during dinner. His conversa¬ 
 tion was at this time particularly pleasant, easy, flow¬ 
 ing, and full of anecdote. ” 1 It was the morning after 
 such an afternoon that the following letter was writ¬ 
 ten: 
 
 i Randall’s “Jefferson,” Vol. Ill, p. 343. 
 
 C68] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 Poplar Forest, Sept. 18, ’17. 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 As you expressed a wish to have a note of the wines I men¬ 
 tioned to you yesterday, I make one on the back hereof. I 
 can assure you that they are esteemed on the continent of 
 Europe among the best wines of Europe, and with Cham¬ 
 pagne, Burgundy, Tokay, are used at the best tables there. 
 I think Roussillon of Rivesalt is that which will be most used 
 in this country, because strength and flavor are the qualities 
 which please here as weakness and flavor do there. A first 
 importation will enable you to judge for yourself, and should 
 you select any on trial and wish to import them hereafter 
 yourself either for the tavern 1 or your own table, I will give 
 you letters to Mr. Cathalan, our Consul at Marseilles, and 
 Mr. Appleton, 2 our Consul at Leghorn, both of them my 
 friends and correspondents of 30 years standing. 
 
 I salute you with friendship and respect, 
 
 Mr. Samuel J. Harrison. 
 
 Th: Jefferson. 
 
 N.B.: 
 
 Roussillon wine. This resembles Madeira in colour and 
 strength. With age, it is higher flavored; it is considered on 
 a footing with Madeira and dry Pacharetto, and is equally 
 used at the best tables of the continent of Europe. There 
 are many kinds of wine made in Roussillon, but that here 
 meant is the Roussillon of Rivesalt. It costs 74 cents a gallon 
 there and the duty here is 25 cents the gallon if brought in 
 cask, as should be. 
 
 Hermitage. This is one of the first wines of France; the 
 white is much the best, costs 83y 2 cents a bottle there, bottle 
 included. It is a pretty strong wine and high flavored, 
 duty 15 cents a bottle. 
 
 1 This was the Franklin Hotel in Lynchburg, which was then being 
 built by Samuel Jordan Harrison. It was opened November 1, 1818, 
 under lease to a Mr. Hoyle, who was later reputed to have accumulated 
 a competency by keeping it. 
 
 2 In 1831 Burton Harrison met Mr. Appleton in Leghorn, where he 
 was still Consul, and then recalled this letter. 
 
 IT 69 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Florence wine. There are several crops under different 
 names, but that of Montepulciano is the only good, and that 
 is equal to the best Burgundy. It must come in strong bot¬ 
 tles, well cemented. When sent in the flask much of it spoils. 
 Cost there 25 cents a bottle, duty here 15 cents, requires a 
 good cellar, being a very light wine. 
 
 Claret of Marseilles. Made there by a Mr. Bergasse by 
 putting together different grapes, so that it is the genuine 
 juice of the grape and so perfect an imitation of the finest 
 Bordeaux as not to be distinguishable. The Bordeaux mer¬ 
 chants get it from Bergasse paying one franc a bottle, bottle 
 included, and send it to the U. S. as of the growth of Bor¬ 
 deaux, charging 4 francs a bottle. 
 
 Capt. Bernard Peyton, of the commission business in Rich¬ 
 mond, will import these on commission, the cost being ad¬ 
 vanced him here and a reasonable commission allowed him. 
 The Florence is imported from Leghorn, the others from 
 Marseilles. I give him letters to my correspondents there 
 which will insure him faithful supplies both as to qualities 
 and price. 
 
 Mr. Harrison had the pleasure of arranging for Mr. 
 Jefferson some of the practical details of construction 
 of the buildings for the University of Virginia; and 
 after the reestablishment of the Bank of the United 
 States in 1816, Mr. Jefferson was able to reciprocate 
 this service by lending his aid to an application which 
 Mr. Harrison and some other citizens of Lynchburg 
 made to secure the Virginia agency of the bank for 
 their community; but, despite Mr. Jefferson’s advo¬ 
 cacy, the prize went to Richmond, as is indicated by 
 the following letters: 
 
 Monticello Oct. 7. 17. 
 
 Dear Sir 
 
 This is the first moment that other occupations have per¬ 
 mitted me to withdraw to my writing table, since Mr. Lynch 
 delivered me your letter the evening before last. I have now 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 written to the President of the bank of the US. in Philadel¬ 
 phia a letter of which I inclose you a duplicate, and have 
 forwarded it by mail, in hopes it will reach him as early as 
 your delegates will. I perform this office with great good 
 will, as nothing w r ould give me greater pleasure than to be 
 useful to the town of Lynchburg, and to promote it’s pros¬ 
 perity. I consider it as the most interesting spot in the 
 State, and the most entitled to general patronage for it’s in¬ 
 dustry, enterprise and correct course. If the rules of the 
 institution of the bank of the US. wall admit of your request, 
 a very antient and intimate friendship with Capt. Jones, it’s 
 president, gives me reason to hope that his goodwill will be 
 cordially engaged in it’s behalf. I shall certainly be as much 
 gratified in it’s success as any inhabitant of the place; and 
 with this assurance I pray you to accept that of my great 
 friendship and respect. 
 
 Samuel J. Harrison, esq. 
 Lynchburg 
 
 Th : Jefferson 
 
 Monticello Dec. 27. 17. 
 
 Dear Sir 
 
 On my return I found here the inclosed letter from Capt. 
 Jones, president of the bank of the US. which had been lying 
 here a month. It is an explanation of the grounds on which 
 that bank conducts itself; and as it may be satisfactory to 
 yourself & others interested in the late application, to under¬ 
 stand these, and may enable you to judge of what may be 
 expected, I inclose it for your and their private perusal; only 
 let me pray you not to let it get into the public papers, nor 
 even go out of your own hands. When communicated, be so 
 good as to return it to me by mail. Accept the assurance of 
 my great esteem & respect 
 
 Mr. Samuel J. Harrison 
 Lynchburg 
 
 Th : Jefferson 
 
 The panic of 1819 brought about a crisis in Mr. 
 Harrison’s business career. In August, 1814, all the 
 
 H713 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 banks of the United States south of New England sus¬ 
 pended specie payments, giving- as a reason the con¬ 
 ditions of trade induced by the war with England; 
 but when peace was restored and the wave of specu¬ 
 lation which usually follows a war was upon the 
 country, the banks found it convenient to expand their 
 paper currency indefinitely, because, with active busi¬ 
 ness, the immediate result seemed to be prosperity; 
 a rise in prices due to a depreciated currency was in¬ 
 terpreted to mean a rise in values. Condy Raguet, in 
 his “Treatise on Currency and Banking” (1839), 
 stated the economic fallacy of these principles, which 
 brought so much suffering to Lynchburg, as appo¬ 
 sitely as if he had been writing of the business of 
 Lynchburg alone: 
 
 This rise in prices goes on with every new emission of 
 paper, and appearing to the public, which is not acquainted 
 with the internal operations of banks, like an increase in 
 value, the spirit of speculation is excited amongst all classes 
 of the community, and purchases are made for no other rea¬ 
 son than that the buyers suppose they can sell the next day 
 at a profit. Industrious persons abandon productive em¬ 
 ployment to pursue speculation, which, however profitable 
 it may be to the successful operator, does not at all add to 
 the wealth of the community, seeing that what is gained by 
 one man is lost by another. Extravagance and luxury are 
 increased in proportion to the increasing abundance of paper 
 credits, because as prices rise all who had property or com¬ 
 modities on hand think they are getting richer every day. 
 Merchants embark in more extensive enterprises; manufac¬ 
 turers extend their establishments—and every species of 
 internal improvements are prematurely projected. All these 
 operations give employment to the laboring classes, and for 
 a time exhibit the semblance of accumulating wealth. Every 
 new sale of property or commodities on credit creates new 
 promissory notes or obligations for more discounts, whilst 
 
 IU2] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 more currency is required to circulate the same commodities 
 at their augmented price. 
 
 The general banking situation of the country, due 
 to these causes, had become so difficult in 1816 that 
 Congress reestablished the Bank of the United States, 
 with the principal and successful object of bringing 
 about a resumption of specie payments throughout 
 the country, as was indeed done in February, 1817. 
 But Captain William Jones, the old sea-dog who had 
 succeeded Gallatin as Secretary of the Treasury and 
 was the first president of the new bank, lent himself 
 to the speculative demands of the country and so en¬ 
 larged the discounts of the bank as almost to bring 
 the bank itself to disaster. The result was that in 
 1819 a new management of the bank was compelled to 
 give the entire country, and particularly the South, a 
 bitter business pill in order to avoid another suspen¬ 
 sion of specie payments: the bank contracted its own 
 discounts and demanded specie from the banks which 
 were its customers, a movement which obliged the 
 local banks to reduce their discounts in turn, and this 
 change of Captain Jones’s policy caused sore distress 
 throughout the country. Bank circulation, which in 
 1816 had been $110,000,000, was in 1819 reduced 
 $65,000,000. 1 Lynchburg as a community, and Mr. 
 Harrison as an important factor in its business life, 
 illustrated the application of this financial expansion 
 and sudden forced liquidation. In 1814 two banks 
 were organized at Lynchburg, and both lent them¬ 
 selves to every legitimate effort to “boom” the town. 
 Public improvements were set on foot; companies 
 were organized to build a toll-bridge over the river, 
 and a turnpike to Salem, in both of which Mr. Harri- 
 
 1 Bolles, “Financial History of the United States,” Vol. II, p. 327. 
 
 [ 73 ] 
 
APIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 son was interested, while he himself undertook the 
 construction of the Franklin Hotel, which, under lease 
 to a Mr. Hoyle, was opened November 1, 1818. “It 
 was thought at the time,” says Mrs. Cabell, “a stu¬ 
 pendous undertaking, and it remains a lasting monu¬ 
 ment to the energy and judgment of the remarkable 
 man by whom it was planned. ’ ’ There for a genera¬ 
 tion (it was later known as the Norvell House) all 
 public meetings and festivities of the community were 
 held. From a picture in ‘ ‘ Lynchburg and its People, ’ ’ 
 it appears to have been a large four-story square 
 brick building with a peaked roof and a very pleasant 
 colonial portico and door with fan-windows. At the 
 same time a real-estate boom was inaugurated. From 
 the fact that a street still exists under the name Harri¬ 
 son in the part of town then opened, it is probable 
 that Mr. Harrison had a share in this also. Prices 
 went up rapidly. “Land here was as high as on 
 Broadway, New York, and in truth many thought 
 Lynchburg would outstrip New York in the race for 
 the position of Chief City in the United States.” 1 
 Half-acre lots sold for $15,000 and $20,000. 
 
 If the financial situation of Lynchburg had been 
 merely local, the community might have survived this 
 too sudden expansion without serious effect, but, un¬ 
 fortunately, it was only one of numberless commu¬ 
 nities which were contemporaneously undergoing 
 similar throes of growth, and they all rested on a 
 financial volcano. Mr. Harrison himself had, during 
 the previous twenty years, accumulated what was con¬ 
 sidered a comfortable fortune, and, with serene con¬ 
 fidence in his own business judgment, which had al¬ 
 ways served him well, he employed his credit freely, 
 with the assurance that he would at once serve his 
 
 i Christian, ‘ ‘ Lynchburg and its People, ’ ’ p. 65. 
 
 [ 74 ] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 community as a public-spirited man and should him¬ 
 self become richer still. He became “extended,” as 
 the bankers’ phrase is, and when the Lynchburg and 
 Richmond banks were compelled by the action of the 
 Bank of the United States to reduce their discounts 
 in the spring of 1819, Mr. Harrison, with others like 
 him at Lynchburg and throughout the country, was 
 overwhelmed. Without personal discredit, he lost in 
 a breath the fortune which he had patiently accumu¬ 
 lated; but such was his indomitable courage that he 
 did not for a moment despond, and, after making an 
 arrangement with his creditors for time, set cheer¬ 
 fully to work to pay his debts and renew his former 
 prosperity. It was as creditable to his character and 
 industry as it was gratifying to his affectionate family 
 that in the ensuing ten years he succeeded completely. 
 Soon after the crash he wrote to his son: 
 
 Our Dwelling house was sold the 23rd of last month and 
 purchased by Mr. Kyle; we are happy in the expectation of 
 remaining in it—more particularly on your mother’s ac¬ 
 count, as she was so anxious to stay. You know your Uncle 
 William has given her Betsy, & the household furniture— 
 which with my industry, will keep us in genteel condition, 
 and school the children—should nothing take place, by way 
 of compromise with my creditors—which, I hope is not im¬ 
 possible ; but some good luck must befall me first. If I was 
 clear of debt, I could rise, and make another fortune—but for 
 the present, must be quiet; and I hope for the best. 
 
 In 1829 lie was able, with a dignified restraint of 
 expression which scarce concealed his satisfaction, to 
 write to his son, then in Germany, that his debts were 
 at last paid and that he was free. The son’s reply 
 does them equal credit: 
 
 What, my dear father, are any little talents my friends 
 may have flattered me as possessing compared to the clear 
 
 [ 75 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 manly sense of actual life in which my father is the brightest 
 example I have yet seen. How do I rejoice for the satisfac¬ 
 tion of your own noble mind that after ten years of depres¬ 
 sion your unbent spirit may at last hope to have once more 
 fair play in its own native open sea. My dear, dear sir, may 
 we live many long years by each other’s side, I not a useless 
 appendage after my long wanderings and you enjoying the 
 growing prosperity which I know you can control with 
 unerring certainty. 
 
 The relations between the father and son were al¬ 
 ways most intimate and affectionate. Mr. Harrison 
 found his greatest diversion in his summer excursions 
 to the White Sulphur Springs, and Burton Harrison 
 was frequently his companion on these vacations. 
 Then, as in correspondence, Mr. Harrison impressed 
 upon the more temperamental nature of the son what 
 he had himself so resolutely practised—that courage 
 and patience are necessary for any enduring success. 
 Because business did not seek him with a rush imme¬ 
 diately after his establishment in New Orleans, Bur¬ 
 ton Harrison wrote home that the world was out of 
 joint. His father replied with that “clear manly 
 sense of actual life” which Burton Harrison had rec¬ 
 ognized : 
 
 I never dreamed that you were to jump into business of 
 magnitude instantly—or even the first year—it is not to be 
 expected that you could do much at first; at any rate, you 
 have had no time to even make a trial. If you can make 
 even your expenses, for the first two years it will do. You 
 must be patient, satisfied, and determined to persevere: and 
 if you can have your health, all will come right by & by. In 
 the meantime, I will still help you to pay expenses, if needed. 
 Never despond—but look on the bright side, & hope for the 
 best. It is impossible, but that you must prevail, if you are 
 not in too great a hurry, which, by the way, has been a fault 
 
 [ 76 ] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 with you. You are quite young—& if you will give yourself 
 up for three years to drudging and hard work—my word 
 for it, you will do well in your profession—besides the chance 
 of marrying to advantage—which by the way—I never would 
 do otherwise—than to advantage, both as to a moral certainty 
 of happiness, & money at any rate. Perseverance, will in 
 time, accomplish anything. You see how our great lawyers, 
 have all drudged, for years, for even an Independence—& 
 some have not saved much, after all their Toil—be satisfied 
 to rise by degrees—as rise you most certainly will, if you 
 continue (as I have no fear you will) to live with economy, 
 pure morals, & industry. Never play, never, never—nor go 
 in debt. 
 
 A few months later he wrote again in the same 
 strain of wholesome worldly-wise affection: 
 
 I am glad to hear that you are getting some business. I 
 have never doubted your succeeding—if you could make out 
 to support yourself, until you could make yourself known— 
 this I hope you have in some degree done—though not so 
 fully as might have been done, had you mixed more with 
 people generally—with the common sort—the lower orders. 
 This is indispensable for a Lawyer—or his rise must be slow. 
 It is said here, by all your friends—& all that see you at 
 N. 0. that you keep yourself quite too much housed—& by 
 some Virginians that you take little or no notice of hardly 
 anybody—Simon Hancock was mortified that you paid so 
 little attention to him. These things are worthy of your re¬ 
 flection—you would certainly profit by a change—people like 
 flattery & attention—& although disagreeable to you—& 
 indeed to me—yet, being up for publick favor—must be sub¬ 
 mitted to—policy requires it. I don’t mention these things 
 in reproach, far from it—but for your future guide. Try & 
 bring yourself to it—attend to Tait, & Murrell: and make 
 yourself as agreeable as possible to everybody—& there is no 
 doubt of your rising—in time—have patience though & keep 
 good spirits—living as cheap as you can, so as not to be mean. 
 I have said enough though to you already on this head. 
 
 [ 77 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 After Burton Harrison had married according to 
 his father’s injunction and had so secured at once 
 happiness and financial serenity, his father met Judge 
 Alexander Porter at “the White” and wrote another 
 note of caution: “The Judge says there is no danger 
 of your not continuing to do well, but he has at last 
 convinced you that you live in too big a house. I am 
 of the same opinion, you know. ” But it is pleasant to 
 know that the first act of the son in his newly achieved 
 prosperity was to send a present to his father. 
 
 Mr. Harrison was a stanch Whig, and believed that 
 Jackson was driving the country to the dogs, and that 
 Virginia politics under the domination of the free- 
 trade party were in as sorry a plight. He wrote to 
 his son in 1824: 
 
 I observe your remarks of our public men, and I think you 
 have a very good perception of such of them as I am ac¬ 
 quainted with. I allude more particularly to Garland & 
 Ya.ncy, mentioned, or spoken of, in your letter to Mr. Nor- 
 vell. I have frequently felt quite humbled, as well as aston¬ 
 ished, to see by whom, this great State is, and has, for a long 
 time been governed & controlled—but perhaps you had best 
 be particular, as to what you say, or to whom you speak, of 
 those at the head of affairs. 
 
 And again in 1834: 
 
 All this cursed business has been produced by the lawless 
 act of Genl. Jackson, in laying hands on the publick money, 
 and still there are many, very many I fear, praising him for 
 his usurpation. There still seems to be great excitement and 
 feeling in our approaching State elections, with a view to 
 put in such in the different counties as may undo what the 
 last Assembly did, and send Rives back to the Senate; but 1 
 have no idea that they mil succeed. Mosby, declining a re- 
 election, we have brought out Dr. Saunders with Burton 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 against W. Daniel and O. G. Clay. The greatest exertions 
 are making on both sides, but we have no doubt of the suc¬ 
 cess of S. and B. 
 
 In the pending political turmoil he found a grim 
 encouragement for his Whig son: 
 
 Keep good spirits. It is impossible but that thousands 
 must be ruined with you as well as other places, if the charter 
 of the U. S. Bank is not extended. In this general ruin you 
 must come in for part of the profits on change of fortune, 
 that revolution produces. 
 
 He had established his tobacco manufactory in the 
 confidence that Henry Clay would be able so to adjust 
 and maintain the tariff as to secure the business and 
 insure its success by protection of his infant industry 
 from foreign competition. His mistake was simply 
 one of anticipation. 
 
 In her “Sketches and Kecollections of Lynchburg” 
 (1858), Mrs. Cabell says: 
 
 Mr. Harrison possessed a fine order of intellect, united to 
 great sprightliness of mind, so that at all times he was the 
 witty, cheerful, and agreeable companion. By his energy 
 and industry, he accumulated a fortune, and during the 
 time of his prosperity he planned and built the Franklin 
 Hotel of Lynchburg, which, with all the alterations since 
 made, has never been so prosperous, desirable, or convenient 
 as it w T as in its early days. The great pressure of 1819 caused 
 Mr. Harrison, like many others in Lynchburg, to experience 
 a reverse of fortune, but, submitting cheerfully to circum¬ 
 stances, he was still able, by means of the vigor and industry 
 of his character, to make ample provision for the comfort 
 and education of a large family. He passed through a long 
 life, surviving some years his estimable wife, and blessed in 
 the respect and affection of his devoted children. Several 
 
 C79n 
 
ARIS SON IS FOCISQUE 
 
 years previous to his death, he made a public profession of 
 religion, connecting himself with the Episcopal Church. This 
 touching and interesting occasion was rendered still more so, 
 from the circumstance of two of his daughters standing as 
 sponsors for their venerable parent at the baptismal font. 
 During the remainder of his life he was a meek, consistent 
 Christian, deriving much peace and comfort from the service 
 of the sanctuary. 
 
 Samuel Jordan Harrison died at Lynchburg, Feb¬ 
 ruary 28, 1846, aged seventy-five, having survived bis 
 beloved son five years. 
 
 On February 8,1801, be bad married Sarah Hudson 
 Burton, daughter of Captain Jesse Burton, of a 
 numerous Henrico family, 1 who himself bad been one 
 of the original trustees appointed in 1786 to found the 
 town of Lynchburg, and of Ann Hudson, sister to 
 Elizabeth Hudson, who was the mother of Henry Clay. 
 Mrs. Samuel Jordan Harrison seems to have been of 
 a charmingly tender and affectionate disposition. 
 Doubtless it was from her that her son Burton Har¬ 
 rison derived the sweetness of his character, which, 
 after all, is the leaven which makes his intellectual 
 personality human and attractive. Mrs. Cabell writes 
 of her: “Mrs. Sarah Harrison was a lady of great 
 worth and piety. She governed well and wisely at 
 her beautiful home, her establishment being a perfect 
 model of elegant management and domestic econ¬ 
 omy.” She educated in manners and morals nine 
 
 i The Burtons are a prolific tribe. They swarmed from Virginia into 
 North Carolina and Kentucky, and overflowed into Indiana and thence 
 farther west. There is a headquarters settlement of them at Mitchell, 
 Indiana, where they hold regular family reunions. Of the four Con¬ 
 federate generals upon whom General Lee depended during the last 
 period of the war between the States, Bodes, Hoke, Gordon, and Ma- 
 hone, two, Bodes and Hoke, were of the Burton kin. Two of General 
 Hoke’s nephews are Hoke Smith, who was a member of Cleveland’s 
 second cabinet and has since been Governor of Georgia, and his brother, 
 Burton Smith of Atlanta. 
 
 C803 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 children to do credit to lier training. 1 The following 
 letter upon the birth of her grandson, Burton N. Har¬ 
 rison, is pleasant, not only by reason of the love which 
 dictated it, but because of its exquisitely clear chirog- 
 raphy: 
 
 My dear Son: Lynchburg, July 23rd, ’38.- 
 
 Your letter of the 16th was received but a day or two 
 since, & I hasten to assure Frances & yourself of the sincere 
 pleasure which the contents gave us. I earnestly trust that 
 the Mother has continued to do well, & that the dear little 
 Babe is as thriving as it promised to be. As Frances was so 
 ill when in a similar situation, I could not help occasionally 
 feeling anxious & rather uneasy as the critical time drew 
 near, & whilst I rejoice with you both at the deliverance, I 
 would pray you to join with me in offering praise and thanks¬ 
 giving unto the Author of this, & all our blessings. 
 
 Though Frances may feel perfectly well, tell her I lay my 
 commands on her to be very prudent, & careful of her health 
 for some time to come: I have had experience enough to 
 know that it is material & important—& no doubt my dear 
 Son is as good a nurse as she can have. I see that he is a 
 tender one, & there is no danger but that he indulges her too 
 much, for I must whisper to her that her good man has never 
 since his marriage, I think, sent us a line in which her name 
 
 i Mrs. Cabell writes: ‘ ‘ The five daughters of this family all survive 
 (1858), an unbroken sisterhood, Mrs. William Norvell (Anne), Mrs. 
 Robert Robinson (Martha) of Philadelphia, Mrs. Lorenzo Norvell 
 (Lucy) of Lynchburg, Mrs. James Metcalfe (Elizabeth) of its vicinity, 
 and Miss Mary E. Harrison of Bedford. All of these ladies are well 
 known and esteemed in our community, as well for their superior wit 
 and intelligence as for their admirable traits of character.” Of the 
 sons, in addition to Burton Harrison, Samuel Jordan Harrison, Jr., 
 after a profitable business career in Missouri became a successful banker 
 in Richmond before the war and in New York after it. William Harri¬ 
 son 6 became a judge in Missouri; the Hon. Champ Clark, who knew 
 him, has said that he was one of the greatest lawyers in the State, and 
 had the appearance and character of a game-chicken. The youngest 
 son, John Harrison, died in Alabama in 1908, after long years of ser¬ 
 vice as an Episcopal clergyman, with the high respect and affection of 
 his parishioners. 
 
 c si n 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 lias not appeared, & always coupled with some term of en¬ 
 dearment: we delight to see it, to see that she appreciates 
 him, & makes him happy, & we love her more & more for it. 
 Are you sure that there is no danger in omitting the Cap ? 
 We have in this region always considered it so dangerous to 
 expose the mole of the head, that I am a little apprehensive, 
 though the difference of climate I suppose may alter the 
 case. And so he has black hair, & dark eyes—no image of 
 his Father— Has he his Mother’s features? I hope he is n’t 
 very troublesome, for his Mother’s sake, nor very cross for 
 his Father’s, as I don’t think he will admire little Burton 
 quite as much in that case.—but as to the name, I was really 
 much gratified, & all approve it. When Frances gets well 
 enough, she must write me particularly about herself, & give 
 a minute description of him. May you realize that this child 
 is the gift of God’s love, committed to you to be reared & 
 trained for Heaven, & do not betray the Sacred trust— 
 Sacrifice it not to the world, but consecrate it to God. Since 
 its birth especially, no doubt the thoughts of Frances have 
 reverted to her Mother, whose memory is blessed, & let her 
 strive to mould & fashion it as she thinks her Sainted Parent 
 would have done.— 
 
 Your Father has been at the Springs all this month—in 
 every letter since, he mentions the improvement of his health, 
 tho’ it was tolerably good, for this season, when he left. 
 Martha’s Sam is with him, & very delicate, & pronounced by 
 an eminent physician there, to have an affection of the heart 
 —we fear it is hardly curable. 
 
 Your sisters have abundance of congratulations & good 
 wishes for you, & would transmit them now, were they near 
 me. We despatched your letter yesterday to Margaret, & 
 Lucy too will partake of our good humour. Write oftener my 
 dear Son, & if a letter is not on the way for us when you 
 receive this, I beg that you will write immediately to tell us 
 how Frances & the Baby are—do mind your own health too, 
 & get out of the City as soon as you can. 
 
 Your affectionate Mother, 
 
 Sarah Harrison. 
 
 [ 82 ] 
 
SAMUEL JORDAN HARRISON OF LYNCHBURG 
 
 She died February 20, 1839, at Lynchburg, much 
 mourned by the community as well as by her family, 
 as she had exemplified in her charities and her exam¬ 
 ple all that is best in a sincerely Christian character. 
 For sixteen years she had been at the head of the 
 Lynchburg Dorcas Society and contracted her last 
 illness through exposure at the bedside of a poor 
 woman to whom she was ministering. 
 
 [ 83 ] 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 JESSE BUETON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS (1805-1841) 
 
 F EW Virginians of his day began life with fairer 
 prospects or greater opportunities than did 
 Jesse Burton Harrison. He was born at Lynchburg, 
 April 7, 1805. His father wanted to send him to the 
 Quaker school in York County, then kept by Elisha 
 Bates, but Burton Harrison’s mother insisted on his 
 staying at home, and thereby undoubtedly did him a 
 substantial service. The moral atmosphere of theSkim- 
 ino community was of the best, but its educational 
 opportunities were limited. Burton Harrison repre¬ 
 sented a sudden intellectual efflorescence in his family, 
 due perhaps with him as with Henry Clay to the 
 Hudson blood common to them both, and he owed his 
 early maturity of mind in large measure to the excel¬ 
 lent private classical schools which it was his good 
 fortune to find established in Lynchburg. In 1818 
 he went to Hampden-Sidney College, where he was 
 graduated in 1821, and, as was later testified by Pro¬ 
 fessor John Holt Rice, “in one of the most respectable 
 classes that ever graduated here” Burton Harrison 
 “received the first honor.” 
 
 Hampden-Sidney was at this time the chief educa¬ 
 tional center in Virginia and indeed in the South. 
 William and Mary, which had educated four of the 
 seven Virginia signers of the Declaration of Inde¬ 
 pendence, had represented the ecclesiastical system 
 of the Established Church and decayed with the 
 
JESSE BURTON HAERISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 growth of the new ideas; after the Revolution it 
 fell into popular disrepute with the other institu¬ 
 tions of the ancient regime. The youth of the new 
 nation, bred in principles of “liberty,” demanded 
 teaching which recognized the tendencies of contem¬ 
 porary thought. As a result, there were founded two 
 schools in Virginia, both dominated by the Ciceronian 
 novi —the Scotch-Irish dissenters who had poured 
 into Virginia through the Valley and were the sinew 
 of the Revolution. These were Hampden-Sidney, 
 named ‘ 4 in honor of the principles of political liberty 
 which had been sealed by the blood of martyrs,” and 
 Liberty Hall, at Lexington, since known as Washing¬ 
 ton and Lee. Hampden-Sidney, established in 1776 
 in Prince Edward County, the center of Southside 
 Virginia, was controlled by the Presbyterians, draw¬ 
 ing largely upon Princeton, whence came its methods 
 and its teaching staff. 1 In 1815 it had already an 
 honorable roll of alumni, including William Henry 
 Harrison, afterward President of the United States, 
 and by its educational opportunities attracted many 
 who, like Burton Harrison, were not Presbyterians 
 and who might otherwise have gone to William and 
 Mary if that ancient and honorable institution had 
 happily been regenerated as Jefferson had sought to 
 regenerate it and had so been adjusted to the times. 
 
 But Hampden-Sidney did not satisfy Burton Harri¬ 
 son’s thirst for learning. Mr. Jefferson had been for 
 some years formulating his plans for the organiza¬ 
 tion of the University of Virginia. In 1815 he re¬ 
 ceived a visit at Monticello from George Ticknor of 
 Boston, then twenty-three years of age and making a 
 
 i The Princeton influence had already been felt in Virginia for some 
 time. Cf. the account of President Madison’s education in Hunt’s 
 “Life of James Madison.” 
 
 nssn 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 tour of the United States preparatory to going to 
 Europe for the “grand tour.” Mr. Ticknor had 
 graduated at Dartmouth College and had been ad¬ 
 mitted to the bar in Boston, but having read a descrip¬ 
 tion of the University of Gottingen, then, perhaps, the 
 leading university of Germany, and having a bent 
 for letters rather than the law, determined to accom¬ 
 plish a broader education than was possible in the 
 United States. He was in residence at Gottingen for 
 nine months with Edward Everett, and finally, after 
 extended travels, returned to Boston in 1819 to assume 
 a chair at Harvard as Smith professor of French and 
 Spanish languages and literature and belles-lettres, 
 a chair which was afterward filled by Henry Wads¬ 
 worth Longfellow and James Russell Lowell. Mr. 
 Jefferson endeavored to enlist Mr. Ticknor for the 
 University of Virginia, and talked to Samuel Jordan 
 Harrison and his son of the brilliant opportunities 
 of such an education as Mr. Ticknor had achieved. 
 The result was that Burton Harrison determined to 
 emulate Mr. Ticknor’s career. Accompanied by his 
 Hampden-Sidney classmate Nelson Page, he went to 
 Harvard to hear Mr. Ticknor’s lectures and to attend 
 the newly established law school. Among the Jeffer¬ 
 son Papers in the State Department at Washington 
 there is a letter 1 addressed by Burton Harrison to 
 Mr. Jefferson and dated “Harvard University at 
 Cambridge, January 17, ’23,” in which this youth of 
 seventeen poises himself upon rather sophomoric 
 wings to rise to the dignity of a correspondence with 
 the ex-President and world-famous philosopher. 
 After some discussion of climate, he makes the fol¬ 
 lowing observations upon American university edu¬ 
 cation, which are just criticism to-day: 
 
 i Jefferson Papers, Series 2, Vol. XLV, No. 98. 
 
 C863 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 Harvard University is in a most flourishing state at pres¬ 
 ent. The number and learning of its professors, but particu¬ 
 larly the extent of its library, deservedly give it the first 
 place among our institutions. It is impossible to say how 
 many colleges we have in our country; all, however, not equal 
 to more than one foreign university. Having our colleges 
 thus scattered over the land in every neighborhood almost, 
 certainly weakens the effect that might be produced by a more 
 united establishment: it prevents the great accumulation 
 of books that would be the result of concentrated force and 
 the existence of those large literary bodies of men who reside 
 in the universities abroad and whose researches and writings 
 constitute the instruction and glory of their respective coun¬ 
 tries. Yet the situation of our republic, the absence of united 
 opinion at the beginning, as well as that sort of convenience 
 that strikes us at the first view but disappears when we look 
 a second time, will all prevent our soon having any great 
 seminaries; indeed, it is probable that our scholars are taught 
 in these separate colleges almost as well as in more erudite 
 institutions, for nothing but the elements of learning are 
 acquired in a university education at any time: profound 
 scholars such as are to raise the name of their country, to un¬ 
 fold the page of philosophy, and the works of the mighty 
 dead, can only be formed, except occasionally, in the walls 
 of the long-standing, venerable temples where literature is 
 sole mistress. 
 
 He was at Cambridge two winters, though he is re¬ 
 corded in the law school with the class of 1825, when 
 he received an LL.B. among the first degrees in law 
 granted at Harvard. He evidently carried away more 
 inspiration from the brilliant young German-bred pro¬ 
 fessor of belles-lettres than he did from the teaching of 
 Professor Asahel Stearns in the law school, though he 
 got a good training for his subsequent legal studies, 
 and won the approval of Mr. Stearns, who, in later 
 years, wrote to him with evident respect and affee- 
 
 [ 87 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 tion. That he made a good impression upon Mr. 
 Ticknor by his character and parts is evident from the 
 report which Mr. Ticknor made upon him to Mr. Jef¬ 
 ferson : 
 
 The two young gentlemen you were so kind as to introduce 
 to me above a year since, are both gone. Mr. Tone remained 
 so short a time that I was not able to assist him. But I hope 
 I have been of some use to Mr. Harrison, who has just left 
 us, and whose strong love of letters and study enabled me to 
 contribute to his wants. He will carry home with him a 
 valuable stock of knowledge, particularly in modern litera¬ 
 ture, to some portion of which he has devoted himself with 
 great zeal; and will, probably, be very successful in his pro¬ 
 fession, as he showed quite uncommon talents for extempora¬ 
 neous debate. It may be gratifying to his friends to know 
 that he sustained an irreproachable character while he was 
 among us; and that he faithfully used the time and means he 
 enjoyed here for the purposes that brought him. It has 
 given me the most sincere pleasure to aid him as far as I 
 possibly could. 
 
 This was transmitted to his father, with the following 
 pleasant note: 
 
 Monticello, July 5, ’23. 
 
 Bear Sir: 
 
 It is with real pleasure that I communicate to you the 
 extract from a letter I have recently received from Mr. 
 Ticknor of Harvard University. Accept my congratulations 
 on the possession of a son of so much promise to himself, his 
 friends and Country, and the assurance of my esteem and 
 respect. 
 
 Th : Jefferson. 
 
 Mr. Samuel J. Harrison, 
 
 Lynchburg. 
 
 After his return from Harvard, Burton Harrison 
 pursued for a time his law studies in Richmond and 
 
 C88] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 was admitted to the bar of Virginia on March 31,1825, 
 being then just twenty years of age; his license was 
 signed by Judges James Allen, William Daniel, and 
 Thomas T. Bouldin. For the next four years he 
 hung out a professional ‘ 1 shingle ’ ’ in Lynchburg, ob¬ 
 taining opportunities to practise eloquence, but no 
 surfeit of fees. He continued to frequent Monticello, 
 a welcome visitor, until Mr. Jefferson’s death. There 
 he met Lafayette during his triumphal progress 
 through the United States in 1824, and there he first 
 met Daniel Webster. 
 
 On November 29,1824, Mr. Ticlmor wrote to Burton 
 Harrison from Washington: 
 
 We are now on our way to Monticello. I have some misgiv¬ 
 ings about your roads for Mrs. Ticknor, who is not extremely 
 strong; but I am very anxious that she should see Mr. Jeffer¬ 
 son, and at his age there is no time to lose. It was Ovid, I 
 think, who used to boast all his life afterwards: “Virgilium 
 vidi.” I feel so about a very few persons, and Mr. Jefferson 
 is one of them. The day before I left Boston, I saw Mr. 
 Adams. He is now about eighty-nine years old; very infirm 
 in body; but with his faculties as bright as ever. He told me 
 that he thought he had paid for some years back a very high 
 rent for so poor a tenement; and I could hardly help agree¬ 
 ing with him. He has, during the last six months, said as 
 many lively and striking things, I suspect, as he ever did in 
 the same length of time in his life. At Baltimore, I saw Mr. 
 Carroll, eighty-seven years old, fresh and active; taking a 
 strong interest in all that is passing; superintending an 
 immense estate & riding twelve or fifteen miles on horseback 
 every fine day. It now only remains for me to see Mr. Jeffer¬ 
 son again, & then I shall this year have completed the canon 
 of the surviving signers to the Declaration of Independence. 
 
 Webster, who had argued the Dartmouth College 
 case in 1818 and was now an important member of 
 
 [89] 
 
ARIS SOXIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Congress, made the journey from Washington to 
 Monticello with Mr. Ticknor, and there they found 
 Burton Harrison installed as a member of the family. 
 Mr. Ticknor wrote to William H. Prescott from 
 Monticello on December 16, 1824: 
 
 The family consists of Mr. Jefferson, Mrs. Randolph, his 
 daughter, about 52 years old; Mr. Trist, a young Louisianian, 
 who has married her fourth daughter; Miss Ellen; two other 
 daughters of eighteen and twenty; Mrs. Trist; four sons 
 under sixteen; Mr. Harrison, a young lawyer of Lynchburg, 
 who lately studied at Cambridge; Mr. Long, just from Cam¬ 
 bridge, England, apparently an excellent scholar and now a 
 professor in the University at Charlottesville; Mr. Webster; 
 and ourselves. 1 
 
 Mr. Webster made a most entertaining memoran¬ 
 dum of Mr. Jefferson’s habits and conversation dur¬ 
 ing this visit, which, in its animadversions upon 
 Patrick Henry, is well known. 2 In 1829 Burton Har¬ 
 rison, writing to Henry Clay, in a letter hereinafter 
 quoted in full, contributed another reminiscence of 
 this visit: 
 
 Iu the December of 1824 I was at Monticello—Mr. Webster 
 was there also. Speaking of your enthusiasm in high de¬ 
 signs, Mr. Jefferson with great emphasis said, “Quicquid 
 vult, valde vult”; the words were so apt, the tone so deep, 
 and falling from him on a mute audience, that I scarcely 
 wondered when Mr. Webster involuntarily moved his lips 
 after the sage, and repeated the glowing words. It is a rare 
 effect of successful oratory to force your auditors to utter 
 your words, as they fall from your mouth ! 
 
 At this time began his acquaintance with another 
 retired President, James Madison, and he was much 
 at Montpellier also, making notes of anecdote and 
 
 1 “Life, Letters, and Journals of George Ticknor,” Vol. I, p. 348. 
 
 2 “Writings and Speeches of Daniel Webster,” Vol. XVII, p. 364. 
 
 C 90 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 political ana. How he drew from Mr. Madison 
 pabulum for his own nascent Whig principles, is in¬ 
 teresting. His “Private Notes of Conversations with 
 Mr. Madison during Four Days in November. 1827,” 
 contain, among others, the following: 
 
 Mr. M. observed that A. Everett, in his book on America, 
 had fallen into the remarkable error that Gen. Washington 
 had to be greatly persuaded by Hamilton to agree to the 
 Constitution. Mr. M. knew it to be an error: he lodged with 
 Washington in Philadelphia during the convention. 
 
 On Manufactures, he observed that the impossibility of regu¬ 
 lating trade by the separate states was the proximate cause 
 of the convention at Annapolis, which led to that at Philadel¬ 
 phia. Virginia taxed imports higher than Maryland did and 
 hence the trade went to Maryland. No state could raise a 
 revenue to its wish because the neighbour would frustrate it 
 by lower duties, drawing off the foreign trade. Hence some 
 states taxed higher goods brought from neighbouring states 
 than from abroad. In the first Congress ’89 no one suggested 
 that it was unconstitutional to lay imposts with a view to en¬ 
 courage manufactures. Andrew Moore, from Va., and Judge 
 Burke, from S. C., proposed encouragement to hemp, Parker, 
 of Va., on coal. Besides it was then acknowledged that as 
 the States before had the power to promote their internal 
 welfare by discriminating duties, and had surrendered it, 
 Congress ought to exercise it for their good. He also ob¬ 
 served that it is more to the interest of Va. and the South 
 that the Northern people should turn manufacturers and eat 
 our corn and wheat, and consume our products, than be in¬ 
 duced from overstocked population at home to emigrate to 
 the west, there to make for market rival produce to ours, to 
 glut the foreign markets. He thought that the encourage¬ 
 ment of western emigration by Government had gone quite 
 far enough for the welfare of the seaboard. 
 
 On slavery, he has often formed the plan of emancipating 
 the slaves by a law setting free the new-born children, the 
 Government paying valuation for them the first year of their 
 
 L913 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 birth, the master then to have their labour till 25, being 
 bound to give them a little education. Children could not 
 be valued at more than $30 or $40. Thinks the national 
 lands a proper fund for this purpose. If an outlet can be 
 had there will be no insuperable difficulty in public opinion. 
 
 On precedent. It is a great question with Mr. M. how far 
 precedent on Constitutional points should weigh. Repeated 
 decision not under party excitement is entitled to almost 
 entire submission. Seems to think that the question of In¬ 
 ternal Improvements should be considered settled. Certainty 
 of constitutional law is to be bought at some sacrifice of opin¬ 
 ion. Would rather refer this question now to the Supreme 
 Court, if he did not know how their opinion would be, than 
 leave it to variable decision by every successive Congress. 
 
 Scotch merchants in Virginia before Revolution used to 
 have a meeting twice a year, to decide on the rate of ex¬ 
 change, the price of tobacco and the advances on the cost of 
 their goods. This was the substantial legislation of the 
 Colony. 
 
 Thinks that the laisser nous faire principle is not just in 
 our case, the whole world practising a contrary rule. When 
 the world begins to adopt it, it will be wise for all: perhaps 
 America may one day get the upper hand and force the 
 world to adopt that liberal system. It demands universal 
 acquiescence and a universal peace, continued too—for a war 
 in any part of the world disturbs the whole system. The 
 British will lay us down £5,000,000 annually if we will adopt 
 it, leaving to them their accustomed restrictive course. 
 
 He told several amusing historical anecdotes. Mr. Jeffer¬ 
 son at dinner once handed Mrs. Madison and Mr. Madison 
 handed Mrs. Merry. Afterwards, at Madison’s, he handed 
 Mrs. Gallatin. These gave mortal offense to Merry: so, when 
 Mr. Jefferson invited Merry to a dinner en famille, he replied 
 that if it was designed to invite him as Mr. M. he could not 
 come without consulting his king. If as ambassador, then 
 he must be sure of receiving the honours due. Mr. Madison 
 wrote to England about this, fearful of bad consequences. 
 Also of a large Russian ambassador and a small French one, 
 
 C92] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 at some court. The Frenchman got the pas of the other who 
 took him up and lifted him into the next chair. 
 
 The word peas, Irish pase, was the diagnostic in impress¬ 
 ing seamen: if pronounced pase, they were ordered on board 
 the British ship. 
 
 Mr. Madison had in his youth gained great credit with 
 Chancellor Wythe by explaining the origin of hocus pocus 
 from Hoc est corpus —Tillotson. 
 
 He said in 50, perhaps 25, years the Maritime law will be 
 given by America. 
 
 During this period also began Burton Harrison’s 
 correspondence and friendship with his cousin, Henry 
 Clay, from whom he imbibed the Whig principles 
 which were to actuate his political life. Burton Har¬ 
 rison was reared politically in the influence of the 
 Jeffersonian Democracy, and he carried through life 
 an ardent impulse toward the French and an acrimo¬ 
 nious feeling toward the English, but for the rest of 
 Mr. Jefferson’s doctrine he held no brief. After the 
 defeat of John Quincy Adams by Jackson in 1828, 
 Henry Clay founded a new party, the National Repub¬ 
 licans or Whigs, leaving to Jackson the dry shell of 
 the apostolic succession to the Jeffersonian traditions. 
 The Whigs inherited, to be sure, some of the strength 
 of the remnants of the Federalists, but their chief 
 vitality was Clay’s own personality, the impetuous 
 spirit of the West, progressive and utilitarian, burst¬ 
 ing all restraining bonds of doctrine and tradition. 
 Clay stood for anything but Jeffersonian Democracy. 
 He was for a high tariff and despised a low; he was 
 for internal improvements and hurled defiance at 
 Madison and Jackson for their veto messages on the 
 building of the Cumberland Road. He represented 
 the manly and enterprising spirit of young Virginia, 
 which in those days migrated across the mountains to 
 
 [ 93 ^ 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 found a new empire. Virginia became restless under 
 the regime of the doctrinaires. Even old Wilson 
 Miles Cary of Ceelys and Carysbrook, a type of the 
 slave-owning aristocracy, complained of the effect of 
 the Embargo Acts and said: ‘ ‘ This is the pass to which 
 your philosophical Presidents have brought us. ” It is 
 small wonder that, upon the death of Mr. Jefferson, 
 Burton Harrison threw himself heart and soul into the 
 Clay movement. His father became a Whig; so did his 
 accomplished brother-in-law, William W. Norvell; so, 
 indeed, did many other educated and thinking men in 
 Virginia who were not bound by prejudice or interest 
 to the wheels of Jackson’s chariot. Perhaps they sac¬ 
 rificed something of political opportunity and of 
 personal influence, but it was a sacrifice made intel¬ 
 lectually, and they were the forefathers of that suc¬ 
 cessful Americanism which found expression in the 
 reigning Republican party, the child of the war be¬ 
 tween the States. “Thus,” says Carl Schurz in his 
 ‘ ‘ Henry Clay, ” “ while the Democratic party found its 
 principal constituency among the agricultural popula¬ 
 tion, including the planters in the Southern States, with 
 all that depended upon them, and among the poorer 
 and ignorant people of the cities, the National Repub¬ 
 licans, or Whigs, recruited themselves—of course, not 
 exclusively, but to a conspicuous extent—among the 
 mercantile and industrial classes, and generally 
 among the more educated and stirring in other walks 
 of life. The Democratic party successfully asserted 
 itself as the legitimate administrator of the national 
 power. The Nationals found themselves consigned, for 
 the larger part of the time, to the role of a critical oppo¬ 
 sition. Whenever any members of the majority party 
 were driven into opposition by its fierce discipline, 
 they found a ready welcome among the Nationals, 
 
 W 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 who could offer them brilliant company in an uncom¬ 
 mon array of men of talent. The Whig party was 
 thus admirably fitted for the business of criticism, and 
 that criticism was directed not only against the enemy, 
 but not seldom against itself at the expense of harmo¬ 
 nious cooperation. Its victories were mostly fruitless. 
 In point of drill and discipline, it was greatly the infe¬ 
 rior of its antagonist, nor could it under ordinary cir¬ 
 cumstances make up for that deficiency by superior 
 enthusiasm. It had a tendency in the direction of 
 selectness, which gave it a distinguished character, 
 challenging the admiration of others as well as excit¬ 
 ing its own, but also calculated to limit its popu¬ 
 larity. ’ ’ 
 
 Burton Harrison took part in the Presidential cam¬ 
 paign of 1828, making speeches against Jackson. He 
 first met Mr. Clay on the occasion of a visit to Lynch¬ 
 burg, September 21, 1828, when Burton Harrison was 
 one of a citizens’ reception committee, and they 
 promptly became friends. After the election he wrote 
 to Mr. Clay on March 18, 1829: 
 
 While you are receiving at home the cheering approba¬ 
 tion of all those whose praise you would desire, and while your 
 friends everywhere are filled with apprehension lest the event 
 which has excluded you from office shd prove as well an indi¬ 
 cation as a cause of the decline of the country, I beg to recall 
 myself to your mind, as one who, in this moment of undoubted 
 sincerity, is proud to profess an ardent and unwearied attach¬ 
 ment to you. The melancholy occurrence in my father’s 
 family which prevented my finally availing myself of your 
 polite offer, 1 threw such obstacles in my way that I cannot 
 say certainly whether I shall not wholly abandon my plan 
 of a German residence. I surely shall regret it, if I shall 
 
 i Mr. Clay had offered to promote his ambition to study abroad by 
 procuring for him an appointment in the diplomatic service. 
 
 C 95 U 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 thus be compelled to remain in the country to witness the 
 full extent of the barbarous triumph of our foes. But my 
 concern is trivial—what must yours be, Sir? However—I 
 do you the justice to suppose that could you discard the just 
 regret which as a patriot you must feel, you would be the 
 first person to laugh at the strange succession of events. The 
 rationale of this grand revolution is merely this: we have had 
 the first grand triumph of the rowdy principle in the U. 
 States—a triumph which, about once every twenty years, 
 will, I venture to predict, constantly occur. The term and 
 the idea are wholly Irish, but marvellously well adapted to 
 the American soil. Behold a triumph of which foul ambition 
 is the impulse among the leaders, and absolute betise, among 
 those who follow! and that too in our century, and in 
 America! 
 
 I would draw you a picture of a few of our party in Vir¬ 
 ginia, which if you will not suspect me of being one of them, 
 I should be happy to have you laugh at. I mean those un¬ 
 happy young patriots who, setting out with the State-Rights 
 party of Virginia, five or six years back, now find themselves 
 left on the sands by the retreating water and are hencefor¬ 
 ward out of the reach of the majority. I know some who 
 now curse the “too easy Gods” who granted their prayers 
 for distinction in our woeful minority! The poet who so 
 pathetically describes the anguish of office-holders dismissed 
 from their places, “the pain of greatness going off,” spoke 
 I know only of a vulgar misery compared with that of the 
 young politician who makes his reckoning for life in a ma¬ 
 jority, and yet in spite of this disinterested purpose blunders 
 at the very first step into an irrecoverable minority. Not that 
 I wd rashly impute to any of these, what would be the most 
 genuine part of this comic distress—the curse of feeling 
 bound to be consistent in their minority principles: this 
 would be more than mortal firmness. But at last it is exquis¬ 
 ite to know that the memory of partizans is so admirably re¬ 
 tentive, that either in the shape of vague popular distrust, 
 newspaper-charge in the style of Junius, or galling parlia¬ 
 mentary sarcasm it will continue to haunt one thro’ life, and 
 
 W 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 is only to be likened to that undoubted blessing the British 
 national debt, “for closer and closer ’t will press thee my 
 love, Until thy dying day!” But in good earnest, Sir, I think 
 most of our friends in Virginia will be very well content to 
 abide by their avowed principles, and feel that the senti¬ 
 ments which befit a virtuous minority are as good to beat in 
 the breast of an honest man, as the swollen arrogance of the 
 majority. We all trust and believe that “the end is not” yet, 
 and on you all eyes are turned. Meanwhile we are com¬ 
 forting ourselves as we best may. 
 
 For myself, tho’ I have a decided predilection for theo¬ 
 retical politics, I doubt whether I shall ever take pleasure in 
 a practical attempt to learn what the great Flechier calls the 
 “art de parvenir :”—a naughty term this, for he who learns 
 it to perfection, and so rises in the world, will only be entitled 
 to be called (parvenu) “upstart.” If books would teach the 
 secret of popularity and successful statesmanship—if Sallust, 
 or de Retz, or Vivian Grey could teach it, I would venture to 
 undertake it, but I fear it is learnt by untraceable steps and 
 practised by the aid of imperceptible arts. Among all these 
 books, and others which treat of parties triumphant defeated, 
 would I could select some golden sentence of certain avail 
 which I might presume to commend to you. I cannot be so 
 priggish as to give you “be just and fear not, let all the ends 
 &c.” for, that passage concludes not with assurance of final 
 triumph (the thing we want) but with consolation to the 
 person, which person aforesaid would become— (’t is ever 
 so) a blessed martyr. I suspect you would laugh if I ex¬ 
 horted you, Sir, to console yourself by reading the Satanic 
 parts of Paradise Lost! Yet the gentleman in black is no 
 bad model for a constant and magnanimous patriot neither. 
 To confess the truth I have no doubt Satan was Milton’s 
 favorite, and for my own part I am when reading P. Lost 
 entirely of the Satanic party; for, is he not an elevated spirit 
 whom merit and the popular voice would exalt above an 
 absolute, irresponsible legitimacy 1 ? Your real devil to hate, 
 is not the high and tragic Satan, but your taunting, cold, 
 sarcastic demon—the Mephistopheles of Goethe—a slightly- 
 
 [ 971 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 exaggerated Randolph! But hold! this is a pretty kind of 
 diablerie I am getting into. 
 
 I dare guess, Sir, that you cannot yourself decide what 
 part you are to take in the coming events. I hope you do 
 not consider our emancipation from the Jackson party as 
 hopeless. Such is not the sentiment of our friends in Lynch¬ 
 burg. And I cannot but reflect that altho’ J’s majority of 
 Electoral votes was overwhelming, yet every vote that went 
 to make up the 95 was narrowly gained. So in fact the 
 struggle was very critical. Let our friends but stand firm, 
 & we will see a brighter day soon. And be assured, we trust 
 much to that intensity of purpose, that vehemence of soul 
 which have always characterized you. In the December of 
 1824 I was at Montieello—Mr. Webster was there also. 
 Speaking of your enthusiasm in high designs, Mr. Jefferson 
 with great emphasis said, “Quicquid vult, valde vult”; the 
 words were so apt, the tone so deep, and falling from him on 
 a mute audience, that I scarcely wondered when Mr. Webster 
 involuntarily moved his lips after the sage, and repeated the 
 glowing words. It is a rare effect of successful oratory to 
 force your auditors to utter your ivords, as they fall from 
 your mouth! Present me to Mrs. Clay, and do not reprove 
 me for laughing at our misfortune, for when the time comes 
 to act, I shall hope to offer some more solid incitement to 
 cheerfulness. 
 
 But, while he heard and talked and wrote much poli¬ 
 tics before he went abroad, Burton Harrison’s ambi¬ 
 tion for a public career seems to have been not yet 
 aroused; he aspired, despite his youth, to sit in a 
 college chair. His first literary reputation was made 
 by an address which he delivered at Hampden-Sidney 
 College in September, 1827, entitled “A Discourse on 
 the Prospects of Letters and Taste in Virginia.” 
 This was a plea for a revival in Virginia of philo¬ 
 sophical studies, and was read throughout the State 
 in pamphlet form, bringing him much discriminat¬ 
 es;] 
 
JESSE BUKTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 ing praise; his assertion that “the practical loss to 
 man, if arithmetic was reduced to counting on the 
 fingers, would not be so great, as if poetry, the de¬ 
 partment of fancy, was wholly neglected,” was widely 
 quoted. One who heard this address delivered, pic¬ 
 tured him to a later generation, a slender, handsome 
 youth with a piercing blue eye and a charming pres¬ 
 ence, girt with the sash of a literary society, leaving 
 on his audience an enduring impression of keen intel¬ 
 lect, of persuasive and thrilling eloquence. 
 
 With the “Discourse” came into his life a new and 
 potent intellectual force. He sent a copy to the gifted 
 Hugh S. Legare of South Carolina, afterward Attor¬ 
 ney-General and Secretary of State in Tyler’s cabinet, 
 but then engaged in editing the Southern Review at 
 Charleston, and so began a literary correspondence. 
 Mr. Legare’s friendly criticism of his style was a 
 wholesome corrective of the New England influence to 
 which he had been subjected in the first flush of stu¬ 
 dent enthusiasm. In a letter dated November 3, 1828, 
 Legare expresses a vigorous opinion of that influence: 
 
 I rejoice to hear you are going to Germany. You speak 
 of yourself as a young man. Let me exhort you to lay hold 
 of Greek and not to look back until you die. All other liter¬ 
 ature is wretched in finish and elegance when compared with 
 the Ionian. It is a hard thing to acquire a competent know¬ 
 ledge of it, but every good thing is hard to be got. The 
 Irvings & Coopers & Percivals et id omne genus (of whom, 
 by the bye, you have a higher idea than I have) won’t do. 
 The soil must be properly manured & broken up before it 
 will produce a majestic & vigorous growth. I think very 
 little entre nous of those Northern smatterers. Dr. Johnson’s 
 notion of the Scotch, that every man had a mouthful & no 
 man a bellyful of knowledge, applies to the trans Potomac 
 people. They have yet to acquire the very rudiments of 
 
 C99] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 scholarship. I never met a Northern man, except one or 
 two, that had any idea (& then not until he had been in 
 Europe) what the word scholarship means. You think no 
 doubt very differently. You have, I judge from your style, 
 been educated at Cambridge. But you will agree with me 
 when you have lived thirty years or so in the world. The 
 Bostonians, however, are in a fair way to improve, but, as for 
 Philadelphia, New York, etc., “Souvenirs” and such stuff 
 will satisfy their tastes and their capacities for some time to 
 come. 
 
 I hinted to you that there was a little mannerism (that of 
 a school) in your style. There is and it is its only fault, for 
 in general it is very elegant and pure. It is that dainty, 
 mincing, priggish way Everett has. Avoid that & look up to 
 your bright Virginia sky for inspiration & a native strain. 
 
 At this time Burton Harrison began his interest in 
 the American Colonization Society, of which he con¬ 
 tinued an active member to the end of his life. This 
 society had been founded in 1816 on an idea expressed 
 in Jefferson’s “Notes on Virginia,” and sought to 
 solve the problem of slavery in America, by trans¬ 
 porting free negroes to the colony founded by the 
 society in West Africa under the name Liberia. Its 
 campaign had succeeded in enlisting to its cause 
 many Southern men of high ideals, especially in Vir¬ 
 ginia, but it met with persistent opposition not only 
 from the abolitionists of the North, but also from the 
 slaveholding planters in the Carolinas. Because this 
 attempted solution of the vexed question had been 
 urged by Jefferson and was advocated by Clay, and be¬ 
 cause it appealed to his imagination, Burton Harrison 
 took up the propaganda eagerly and philosoph¬ 
 ically. His attitude would have given great satisfac¬ 
 tion to his Quaker grandfather, but he probably did 
 not think of that. At the anniversary meeting of the 
 
 poo;] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 Lynchburg Colonization Society in July, 1827, he de¬ 
 livered an address vindicating the society against cer¬ 
 tain recent attacks in the Senate of the United States, 
 and this discourse was published in September, 1827, 
 in the organ of the national society, the African Re¬ 
 pository and Colonial Journal, with the editorial com¬ 
 ment that “here are powerful arguments exhibited in 
 a style of uncommon beauty, and with so much candor 
 and liberality as to secure for them, we doubt not, the 
 serious consideration of all the enlightened and un¬ 
 prejudiced minds in Virginia and in the United 
 States. ’ ’ In January, 1828, he attended, as a delegate, 
 the annual meeting of the national society in Wash¬ 
 ington, and there delivered another impassioned 
 speech which was also published and distributed by 
 the society. A copy of this speech reached the hands 
 of Thomas Babington Macaulay in England, and on 
 July 24, 1829, he wrote to Burton Harrison: 
 
 It is gratifying to me, as a person interested in the welfare 
 and consequently in the concord of England and America, 
 to learn from your letter and from the compositions which 
 accompany it, that those literary pursuits which form the 
 strongest bond of union between the two countries are suc¬ 
 cessfully cultivated amongst you. Above all, it is gratifying 
 to me to find that, even in those parts of the United States in 
 which slavery exists, there are men willing and able to exert 
 themselves for the removal of that great blemish on your 
 laws and manners. 
 
 After Burton Harrison had returned from Europe, 
 the Southampton negro insurrection of August, 1831, 
 stirred Virginia to fresh and earnest consideration of 
 the slavery question, and during the following winter 
 the Legislature debated Thomas Jefferson Randolph’s 
 “post-natal” emancipation plan. All the intelligence 
 
 £1013 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 of the commonwealth was arrayed. The part of the 
 slaveholders was advocated in a remarkable paper by 
 Professor Dew 1 of William and Mary, who, with spe¬ 
 cious argument, lulled the fears and comforted the 
 inertia of the slave-owning class, rooted as they al¬ 
 ready were in inherited prejudice and self-interest. 
 To this discussion Burton Harrison contributed a 
 powerful and closely reasoned essay, which, if less 
 eloquent than his earlier discourses on the question, 
 more effectively presented, with statistics and unan¬ 
 swerable argument, the economic disadvantage under 
 which Virginia, as distinguished from the more South¬ 
 ern States where there were different agricultural 
 conditions, must continue so long as her social re¬ 
 gime was based on slavery. “We believe,” he said, 
 “that there is not the slightest moral turpitude 
 in holding slaves under existing circumstances in 
 the South. We know, too, that the ordinary condi¬ 
 tion of slaves in Virginia is not such as to make 
 humanity weep for their lot. Our solicitations to the 
 slaveholders, it will be perceived, are founded but 
 little on the miseries of the blacks. We direct our¬ 
 selves almost exclusively to the injuries slavery in¬ 
 flicts on the whites, ’ ’ and he illustrated his point with 
 the remark of John Randolph of Roanoke, that the 
 
 i An illustration of wliat William and Mary represented at the time 
 may be drawn from the life of this brilliant contemporary of Burton 
 Harrison, who achieved a career such as he himself had planned, but upon 
 the lines of an entirely different political faith. Thomas Roderick Dew 
 (1802-1846) was born in King and Queen County, graduated at William 
 and Mary in 1820, traveled and studied abroad for two years, and be¬ 
 came a professor at William and Mary in 1827, and its president in 
 1836. He preached the political doctrine of Calhoun, and his “Essay in 
 Favor of Slavery,” published in 1832, had a powerful reactionary effect 
 on the emancipation movement; indeed, it has been said that it pre¬ 
 vented emancipation at a time when Virginia was on the very verge 
 of accomplishing that mighty reform. 
 
 £102 3 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 time was approaching when masters would run away 
 from their slaves, and be advertised by the slaves in 
 the public press. Under the title “The Slavery Ques¬ 
 tion in Virginia,” this essay was published in the 
 American Quarterly Review, of Philadelphia, in 
 December, 1832. It at once challenged attention and 
 made for Burton Harrison his first reputation as a 
 publicist. 1 
 
 In 1826, with the backing and recommendation of 
 Mr. Jefferson and Professor Ticknor, Burton Harri¬ 
 son made application for a chair of French and Span¬ 
 ish at the University of North Carolina, and that this 
 ambition was not altogether unjustified may be gath¬ 
 ered from what his Harvard instructor in those lan¬ 
 guages, the celebrated Francis Sales, wrote him at 
 the time: “In regard to French and Spanish, I can 
 truly and conscientiously recommend you as one of 
 the most attentive, assiduous, and intelligent pupils 
 that I ever had; and that you are not only skilled in 
 the understanding of the principal classics of the 
 above-mentioned languages, but possess also a pure 
 and correct pronunciation of them. Mr. Gherardi, 
 your Italian instructor, I well remember, used to ex¬ 
 press the same admiration that I felt, when speaking 
 of your eagerness, facility, and progress in acquiring 
 his language.” Later, after Mr. Jefferson’s death, he 
 sought, with the support of Mr. Madison, an appoint¬ 
 ment at the University of Virginia, but that institu¬ 
 tion, like the University of North Carolina, hesitated 
 to assume responsibility for the wisdom of a sage of 
 
 1 B. B. Munford’s “Virginia’s Attitude towards Slavery and Seces¬ 
 sion’’ (1909) recites the colonization movement and gives Burton Har¬ 
 rison credit for his part in it. This interesting essay also shows how 
 strong was the Whig influence in Virginia for the preservation of the 
 Union, and demonstrates that Virginia seceded only when threatened 
 with invasion by Lincoln’s call to arms. 
 
 C1033 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 twenty-four, however clever; and they bade him wait. 
 The determination of the University of Virginia was 
 communicated in a considerate note from Mr. Madi¬ 
 son: 
 
 Montpellier, Aug. 15, 1828. 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 I received in due time your letter of July 3, the contents 
 of which were made known to the Visitors of the University. 
 It was my intention to have acknowledged it before I left 
 the Spot: But the arrangement made for the Chair of An¬ 
 cient Languages, vacated by Mr. Long, being one of the very 
 last acts of the Board, it was put out of my power by the 
 fatigue of a long session & the hurry of my departure. And 
 since my return a constant succession, with an accumulation 
 during my protracted absence, of demands on my attention, 
 have had a like effect. What I am now to communicate is 
 that the Board in its anxiety to replace Mr. Long in the 
 fullest sense of the term, adopted the expedient of appointing 
 for one year, one of his most advanced Pupils: 1 and of add¬ 
 ing to the field of choice at home the chance of obtaining 
 a successor from that which furnished Mr. Long: a negocia- 
 tion having that object being directed by the Board. I 
 wished to give you this information not only as a mark of 
 
 i Professor George Long was an Englishman, a graduate of Cam¬ 
 bridge, and had come to Virginia in 1824 to be the first professor of 
 ancient languages at the University of Virginia. In 1828 he returned to 
 England to become professor of Greek at University College, London, 
 a chair he filled many years, exercising much influence on classical 
 scholarship in England. His translation of the "Meditations” of the 
 Roman Emperor Marcus Aurelius and his history of the “Decline of the 
 Roman Republic” are standard works to-day. 
 
 Professor Long’s ‘ ‘ most advanced pupil, ’ ’ who was chosen by the 
 Visitors of the University of Virginia to succeed him temporarily until 
 another English scholar might be found, was Gessner Harrison of Har¬ 
 risonburg, Virginia, who held the chair for many years with equal 
 credit to the university and to himself. He left a deep imprint of his 
 character and learning upon the youth of Virginia during thirty-four 
 years. 
 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 my respect, but as a more exact view of the course taken by 
 the Board of Visitors than you might derive from any other 
 source. 
 
 I avail myself of the occasion to thank you, Sir, for the 
 copy with which I was favored, of your address to the Lit. 
 & Philos. Society of Hampden-Sidney College. I read with 
 much pleasure, the instructive & interesting observations 
 ■with which it abounded on the very important subject which 
 led to them. 
 
 I pray you to accept, Sir, assurances of my esteem, and my 
 cordial salutations. 
 
 James Madison. 
 
 J. B. Harrison, Esqr. 
 
 Burton Harrison was more than disappointed; he 
 was quite unnecessarily mortified. Having oppor¬ 
 tunely collected a sum of money which was owing 
 him, he precipitately put into execution a plan 
 which he had been nursing for several years. With¬ 
 out saying where he was going, he left home and 
 wrote from Richmond to his sympathetic brother-in- 
 law, Mr. Norvell, asking him to advise his father that 
 he was going abroad for study and travel. Though 
 somewhat chagrined by the character of the leave- 
 taking, Samuel Jordan Harrison rose nobly to the 
 occasion—wrote an affectionate letter to his son, full 
 of generous approval of his plans and sympathy with 
 his tastes, sent him money, told him to live like a gen¬ 
 tleman but without extravagance, and bade him God¬ 
 speed. 
 
 On June 2, 1829, Burton Harrison embarked for a 
 residence at Gottingen and a grand tour. He carried 
 with him an ample supply of letters of introduction 
 from Virginia and from Boston, including this official 
 recommendation of the Secretary of State: 
 
 C105] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Department of State, 
 
 Washington, May 25, 1829. 
 
 Dear Sir: 
 
 Mr. J. Burton Harrison, a young Virginian, whose excel¬ 
 lent character and devotion to learning procured for him at 
 a very early age the particular regard of Mr. Jefferson & of 
 Professor Ticknor of Harvard, to whom he was recom¬ 
 mended, is now, by his thirst for knowledge and the laudable 
 desire to qualify himself thoroughly for advancing the cause 
 of literature in his native land, drawn across the Atlantic. 
 As the country where the sources from which he wishes to 
 drink are become proverbially copious & pure, Germany is 
 the chief object of his pilgrimage. 
 
 Should opportunities occur for promoting his object and 
 his comfort while pursuing it, your availing yourself of 
 them will be esteemed a favor by 
 
 Yr very respectful & ob : servt, 
 
 M. Van Buren. 
 
 Christopher Hughes, Esq., 
 
 Charge d’affaires of the United States, to the Netherlands. 
 
 His first letter to liis father, written at sea, con¬ 
 tained an interesting anecdote of an encounter with 
 Aaron Burr in New York: 
 
 I ought not to forget a somewhat odd adventure that befel 
 me at New York. I called at the door of Col. Burr one day 
 and left a card desiring that he would give me the address of 
 Guillet in Paris, who married his ward. I expected a note to 
 be sent to my lodgings, hut next morning the bar-keeper in¬ 
 formed me that the old gentleman in person waited in the 
 parlor to see me. I think, sir, you saw him in 1806. His 
 small dark eyes are yet very full of spirit, and his person, 
 tho’ I had been told he neglected it, had the air of an old 
 courtier. Altogether, I do not think I have ever seen a more 
 consummate manner; a more supple, disciplined face or 
 figure. He apprehended that I should miss Guillet as he was 
 
 [ 106 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 expected to sail about this time for America, but he would 
 give me a letter to his brother; gave me a deal of advice 
 concerning means of alleviating sea-sickness, recommended 
 Ballstown water & offered to send a servant to conduct me to 
 a shop for it. I was a little startled by this unexpected 
 civility! I told him I would send around for the letter in 
 the afternoon, but with much readiness he said: “No! You 
 must come over yourself, ’ ’ and so in the afternoon I went to 
 see the old conspirator. He told me many interesting traits 
 of the people in the north of Europe, and among other things 
 said that the hostility of Mr. Jefferson and the government 
 to him made his traveling in Europe quite uncomfortable. 
 Genl. Armstrong had orders to denounce him to the French 
 police as a British spy, and accordingly he was watched in 
 every coach, hotel & street where he went; this, he did not 
 discover ’til at Weimar, a little German principality, where 
 the late Grand-Duchess told him that every thing he said & 
 did that evening would be communicated to Paris next morn¬ 
 ing, and so it turned out as the Duke of Bassano afterwards 
 told him. He promised to bring me the letter next morning 
 before the hour of sailing, but he did not come then. I had 
 quite forgotten him, when, just about a mile from the wharf, 
 a boat came alongside of the ship, and “a gentleman to see 
 Mr. Harrison” was announced. I hastened to the side of the 
 ship, looked over and beheld old Catiline himself reclining 
 in it with a letter in his hand. He had gone to the wrong 
 wharf, begged many pardons for his apparent neglect and so 
 gave me his “God bless you” and vanished. 1 
 
 The voyage from New York to Havre took twenty- 
 seven days, by the packet Charlemagne. It is worth 
 
 i He heard of Burr again at Weimar, whence he wrote: 
 
 “A resident here is Sir James Lawrence, a native of Jamaica and 
 Knight of Malta, who knew some of our Skipwiths and Tayloes of Mt. 
 Airy, whom he was pleased to call, by mistake, Tadler. He, one eve¬ 
 ning, was telling me of Col. Burr’s calling on him in London, on the 
 occasion of a book he had published concerning an imaginary republic 
 without marriage in it, called ‘ The Empire of the Nairs, ’ and his pro¬ 
 posal to carry L. to America to found such a state on the Mississippi.” 
 
 C107 3 
 
ARIS SONIS POCISQUE 
 
 recording that the passage cost $140 and that there 
 were to be had on the transatlantic packets of that 
 day creature conveniences which were perhaps quite 
 as desirable as the luxuries of the modern leviathan 
 liners. “It is impossible,” wrote Burton Harrison, 
 “to conceive of greater comfort at sea than the 
 Charlemagne had to offer us. Besides an excellent 
 and inexhaustible larder, with every species of good 
 wines and desserts, we have a little garden for lettuce, 
 live fowls, not yet half consumed twenty days out, a 
 number of sheep, pigs, kids, and all the usual supplies 
 of a fine hotel on land.” 
 
 In Paris Burton Harrison’s credentials opened to 
 him the doors of polite society. At Lafayette’s eve¬ 
 ning parties he met the novelists Lady Morgan and 
 Mrs. Opie, the latter managing, since her conversion 
 to Quakerism by Gurney, ‘ ‘ the Quaker pope, ’ ’ to com¬ 
 bine with her austere religion a love of society and 
 pretty clothes. He consorted with Talleyrand, Benja¬ 
 min Constant, and Cuvier; he saw Taglioni dance, 
 heard Sontag and Garcia sing, and at the play saw 
 Mile. Mars, at fifty-six still “the first comic actress of 
 France.” 
 
 At Paris was then assembled a melancholy congre¬ 
 gation of American diplomats who had just been ruth¬ 
 lessly displaced by President Jackson’s spoils system, 
 and their mutual woes caused much good-humored 
 hilarity. There were expatriated secretaries of lega¬ 
 tion like John Adams Smith, whose name and occupa¬ 
 tion suggest a character not unknown to American 
 society of later generations, but they were mostly 
 Virginians. Indeed, Burton Harrison fell upon quite 
 a Virginia “connection.” There was Mr. James 
 Brown, the retiring Minister to France, who was a 
 “cousin” through his marriage with the sister of Mrs. 
 
 C108 3 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 Henry Clay; lie had emigrated from Virginia to Ken¬ 
 tucky, and thence to Louisiana, and there had accu¬ 
 mulated the fortune which enabled him to entertain 
 lavishly in Paris, and so make his departure regretted 
 by the American colony, especially when they learned 
 that his successor, Mr. William Cabell Rives, another 
 Virginian, expected to live on his salary. Then there 
 was Dr. Robert Henry Cabell of Richmond, a cousin 
 of the new Minister, and of kin to Burton Harrison 
 through the Jordans; he had been “walking” the 
 French and Italian hospitals for two years, and now 
 was about to return to his practice, armed with a 
 grand piano and a harp for the musical Mrs. Landon 
 Cabell of Lynchburg. General Winfield Scott, whose 
 wife was a sister to Mrs. Cabell, was there, as were 
 Mr. James Barbour, the retiring Minister to England 
 and former Secretary of War in J. Q. Adams’s cabi¬ 
 net, and Beaufort Watts, the latter en route to join 
 the American legation in Russia. With this little 
 group of Virginians Burton Harrison forgathered 
 and in their company saw Paris. One of his letters 
 contains a merry account of a partie carre at the Cafe 
 de Paris, where he dined with Cabell, Barbour, and 
 Richard Rush, the son of the Signer, who himself had 
 been Attorney-General, Secretary of State, Minister 
 to England, and Secretary of the Treasury, but who, 
 despite his nominally large experience of the world, 
 amused his companions by demanding, at the first res¬ 
 taurant of Paris, turtle soup and champagne with it! 
 
 Of the “American colony” in Paris, Burton Harri¬ 
 son wrote to Mr. Clay: 
 
 I remained seven weeks in Paris and found many Ameri¬ 
 cans there, whom I met at the 4th of July dinner. I cannot 
 say that I was proud of the countrymen I became acquainted 
 with in Paris. A shameful ignorance of their own country, 
 
 [ 109 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 and either a frivolous inclination to waste time in cafes and 
 other public places, or to imitate the traveling English in 
 their extravagant tastes and alien follies, made them among 
 the least interesting persons I met. An English Dandy is 
 often a very intellectual person; he brings from the Uni¬ 
 versity as much learning as a parson needs to have, very 
 usually; but heaven help ours for their little wit. I mention 
 no names, tho’ I have not failed to individualize this sweep¬ 
 ing censure. 
 
 To this Mr. Clay replied: 
 
 I am not surprised that you should form so unfavorable 
 an opinion of our countrymen whom you met at Paris. I 
 was obliged to adopt a similar opinion of those whom I saw 
 there in 1815. It is to be regretted that so few of them who 
 visit that captivating metropolis are able to resist the tempta¬ 
 tions to indulgence which it presents. 
 
 From Paris Burton Harrison journeyed through 
 Holland and Belgium, and thence up the Rhine. At 
 Ghent he had his first taste of German hospitality: 
 
 Having been favored with a letter from a friend in Paris 
 to Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 1 who is the Governor of 
 the City, I walked to his house, but was vexed to learn that 
 he was staying in the country, about a league and a half out 
 
 1 Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, was the younger son of the Grand 
 Duke Karl August of Saxe-Weimar-Eisenach, and had made his career 
 in foreign service, first under Napoleon, who gave him the cross of the 
 Legion of Honor on the battle-field of Wagram, and now in 1829 was 
 serving the King of the Netherlands. In 1825-1826 he made an exten¬ 
 sive tour of the United States, the first royal visitor, and in 1828 pub¬ 
 lished at Weimar his ‘ ‘ Reise Seiner Hoheit des Herzogs Bernhard zu 
 Saehsen-Weimar-Eisenaeh durch Nord-Amerika, in den Jahren 1825 und 
 1826.” It was edited by Luden, the Jena professor of history, and, 
 from internal evidence, the editing was much of the character of that 
 which Betsinda gave to the drawings of the Princess Angelica in “The 
 Rose and the Ring.” In Josiah Quincy’s “Figures of the Past” there 
 is an entertaining account of Prince Bernhard’s visit to John Adams. 
 
 Clio u 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 of town. The military valet, however, for a small fee, prom¬ 
 ised to send him my letter and card, and I hoped to have a 
 message of civility in the morning. Accordingly, when I 
 came in from my walk, after breakfast, the waiter informed 
 me, that Monseigneur, in person, was waiting for me. I 
 stepped down, and was announced; he rose with great po¬ 
 liteness, shook my hand, made me put on my hat, and de¬ 
 sired that I wd. go out with him to dinner. He speaks very 
 good English, loves America, of which he knows more than 
 all the Americans I have seen in Europe, remembering the 
 names of towns, petty villages, private individuals, private 
 anecdotes and everything in fact. He is a colossal figure; 
 tho’ not very highly intellectual, he is a judicious, sensible 
 man and greatly respected by everybody in Ghent. He carried 
 me to the University rooms, a magnificent new establishment 
 on the site, as he exultingly said, of a Jesuit church. He 
 showed me next to the house of Mr. Schamp, which was the 
 residence of the American Ministers, Rue des Champs, No. 1. 
 A fine collection of pictures is shown in the house; I inquired, 
 with much delicacy, for the lady who drew tears from Mr. 
 Adams, and eloquence unsuccessful then for the first time, 
 from the noble Clay, but I could not see her. From his 
 house, we entered his carriage, a light open phaeton of Rus¬ 
 sian construction, and we soon whirled out to his country 
 house. The conversation during the ride & all day reminded 
 me more impressively of America than any other occurrences 
 ever have. The house is an old chateau, surrounded by a 
 sheet of water, and very pleasant avenues, gardens & or¬ 
 chards. Entered, I found the room hung as much with Ameri¬ 
 can recollections, as German; rifles from the U. S., prints of 
 North River scenery, etcet. The Duchess, who is of the 
 house of Saxe-Meiningen, is a pleasant lady, speaking Eng¬ 
 lish with saintlike fortitude; his eldest child is a fair haired 
 miss of 12, his next a fine boy of 10 y 2 , an officer receiving 
 pay, after which come four others; he has also lost three. 
 These, he says, are worthy of making a Virginia dessert, 
 alluding to the custom of bringing in the children at the end 
 of dinner. Having finished dinner, we walked into the 
 
 Cm 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 grounds, sat on a little mound called Mt. Washington, under 
 which we wound down thro’ a subterranean passage called 
 Mammoth’s Cave, after that in Kentucky; he has also a Vir¬ 
 ginia fawn and an American Tortoise. In the evening, came 
 a dozen officers & several ladies, who drank tea & then de¬ 
 parted. The tutor to the children is an amiable young man 
 from Gottingen. I ought not to forget that as we rose from 
 dinner he had some bread brought, & going to a balcony 
 threw some into the lake, on which a shoal of carp immedi¬ 
 ately pounced, rising up to the surface and gamboling with 
 great glee. He said, Mr. Duponceau had sent him his review, 
 in Walsh’s, 1 of his book; the exception taken by D. to some 
 expressions of his, he says, results from his not having a per¬ 
 fect familiarity with German, tho’ D. reads the language with 
 respectable facility. About sunset, generously supplied with 
 three letters for the immortal Goethe, at his brother’s court, 
 & two other distinguished men, he put me in the Russian 
 Kibitka, and away I rolled, refreshed with thoughts of my 
 dear Fatherland, and delighted with this, my first acquain¬ 
 tance with a man of elevated rank. 
 
 He visited the universities of Bonn and Jena, and 
 was received by Sclilegel, the translator of Shake¬ 
 speare, and by Luden, the historian, and reached 
 Gottingen in September, 1829. There he remained 
 until the spring, diligently at work in classical and 
 philosophical studies. His facility in languages, which 
 had already enabled him to conquer French and Span¬ 
 ish and to acquire some Italian, put him in possession 
 of a working knowledge of German in two months. 
 His part in the “ Burschenleben ” was much that ex¬ 
 perienced by Ticknor and Everett ten years before, 2 
 and his home letters were spirited pictures of months 
 full of hard work with a judicious admixture of whole- 
 
 1 The American Quarterly Beview, edited by E. Walsh, for September, 
 1828. 
 
 2 Cf. Ticknor’s “Life and Letters,” Vol. I, p. 87. 
 
 [112 3 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 some fun. We select his account of his presentation 
 of his letters of introduction to the professors: 
 
 Blumenbach, the renowned professor of comparative anat¬ 
 omy, a name dear to Englishmen & Americans for 50 years, 
 is now over eighty, has been professor here for 54 years, has 
 been married now 50 years, and is, next to the great poet, 
 the most celebrated man in Germany. I had a letter from 
 Mr. Ticknor to him, & called very soon. At the door, he is 
 to be asked for as Mr. Upper Medical Counsellor Blumen¬ 
 bach; (for life & death are not so important matters as titles 
 here). The maid asks your name; you wait in the open hall 
 below ’til she returns to say whether you can be received. I 
 followed up three pair of stairs to his study, knocked, and 
 all at once heard a sound audible a hundred yards— 
 ‘‘Herein,” (come in), opened the door, and met him coming 
 towards me with open arms, and overpowering me with a 
 shower of German. I asked him if he wd. speak French, he 
 replied in German “No! Not a word.” I knew he spoke it 
 very well—“then, English, Sir”; “Perhaps,” he replied, but 
 in the most amusing loud sharp tone I ever heard. Being 
 seated, I had leisure to observe him; he wore a flat crowned, 
 green velvet cap and a long coarse shaggy surtout. Thro’ 
 the conversation which succeeded, his voice passed by the 
 most abrupt transitions from soft to harsh, from low to high, 
 abounding in sudden shouts or shrieks, & in poohs! of the 
 most uncouth sort. The first thing he did was to open my 
 letter & read my name. * ‘ Burton is your Christian name ? ’ ’ 
 I told him, my mother’s name. “Well! There ’s a book— 
 oh! very singular book—pooh! Anatomy of Melancholy 
 —by Burton—, descended from him perhaps.” I disclaimed 
 the honor. Then he went on to enlarge on the book, received 
 very graciously what I said about it. Reading what Mr. 
 Ticknor said about my being a friend of Mr. Jefferson’s: 
 “Jefferson? Oh! He has written such a fine book on Vir¬ 
 ginia. Whew! I have it all by heart.” Recommending me 
 to keep a good heart about the difficulty of learning German, 
 he said George III had sent the Dukes of Cumberland, Sussex 
 
 CH3] 
 
AUIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 & Cambridge here to be educated, & put them, I think, under 
 his care, with orders not to speak a word of English, ‘ ‘ Except 
 when strangers called on them perhaps—pooh! that of 
 course.” They learned German perfectly, but forgot their 
 English. He spoke of the Americans who had been here with 
 great affection, told me to come of an evening, he wd. intro¬ 
 duce me to his lady & daughter & I might sit at the same tea 
 table where Ticknor & Everett had sat. He had portraits of 
 the Indian Red Jacket & the African Prince Abdul Rahman 
 from America; had been lately thrown into great raptures 
 by “Wilson’s! Ornithology! (just received) continued! by! 
 Lucien! Bonaparte!” —making a prodigious shout of the 
 voice at the end of each word. He is a rare character, very 
 kind, attentive, & polite to young men; his lectures are inter¬ 
 spersed with amusing & valuable anecdotes and plentifully 
 dashed with such phrases as “Thou Lord Jesus,” “Thou 
 warm-hearted God ’ ’ and poohs unnumbered. His lady I did 
 not see, ’til I could speak a little German. She is to be asked 
 for at the door by her husband’s full title. Is Mrs. Upper 
 Medical Counsellorina (Counselloress) Blumenbach at home? 
 She is near his age, is rather deaf, but very well bred & 
 civil. The daughter (but who, thank heaven! is not entitled 
 to her father’s long title) is a fine young woman & knows 
 English pretty well. 
 
 The next family I went to see was Mrs. Chancery Direc¬ 
 tor ess Wedemeyer, lady of the Chief Justice of the Hano¬ 
 verian Court of this district. She speaks perfect English, is 
 a most elegant, accomplished lady & at this time is the pa¬ 
 troness of American merit. I have spent many pleasant 
 evenings there, and avow a most favorable opinion of the 
 minds & cultivation of German ladies. At her house, I always 
 meet the three Frauleins von Lafifert, daughters of the Gov¬ 
 ernment Inspector of the University, agreeable & rather 
 pretty, whose father spent four years in America during 
 General Washington’s Presidency & knows all the men & 
 events of that day, speaks English perfectly, & has taken 
 notice of me very politely to make numerous inquiries about 
 the later history of those men, then conspicuous. Here I am 
 glad to be quite at home on all subjects of American private 
 
 [ 114 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 history which no American that I have seen abroad is at all; 
 I confess I can’t so readily answer his shrewd inquiries about 
 the Chesapeake canal, railroads & the like, tho’ not wholly 
 ignorant. 
 
 Another letter was to a Mr. Goschen, who happens to be 
 engaged to be married, and I mention him now, in order to 
 give Elizabeth & Lucy an idea of the German etiquette in 
 that interesting situation. When the betrothing is settled, 
 the two parties send out to their friends a card with their 
 names on it and “commend themselves as betrothed,” or 
 engaged. This done, they may now walk together alone, 
 which before cd. by no means be allowed. When the mar¬ 
 riage has taken place, which is rather private, then issues 
 another card, as thus, “Adolf Goschen—Frederika Goschen, 
 born Jeoden, commend themselves as done together.” There 
 are two expressions for this last idea of becoming one, either 
 a blacksmith’s phrase—welded together—or a tailor’s— 
 stitched together—, just as the parties fancy. 
 
 A fourth letter was to Mr. Professor Dissen, a renowned 
 Greek scholar. He is in very feeble health, and is remarkable 
 for having none of the gluey substance in his bones, which 
 keeps the chalky substance firm & flexible; for want of this 
 gelatine, as medical men call it, every now and then, when 
 the little man is walking, or throws one leg over the other, it 
 snaps like a pipe stem. I observed him to be exceedingly 
 short-sighted, and in perpetual apprehension of taking cold 
 from the least exposure, from a cold man visiting him and 
 coming too close to him (this I have heard told of others, but 
 as a fiction—here it is true) or from a damp newspaper, 
 before it is aired at the stove. He is a tremulous, silent, bow¬ 
 ing little man, but after all content with his lot of life, for he 
 can read Pindar better than any but one man in the world 
 and equal to him. This is glory! Poor bundle of clay pipe- 
 stems, what would I take to exchange my chest fearless of 
 cold, my running, strutting, waltzing limbs against Pindar 
 and the shivers? 
 
 Last, I had to call on Mr. Professor Saalfeld, the Professor 
 of Politics, a laughing, gay little man, speaking capital Eng¬ 
 lish, a great lover of America, a despiser of England and 
 
 [H5 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 a genuine good-fellow. He always swears two English oaths 
 when we visit him, to convince us he does know the language, 
 the most diverting thing in the world. My letter was from 
 Mr. Amory; another American who accompanied me had one 
 from Mr. Ticknor. Eager to show his perfect acquaintance 
 with his American friends, he took mine: “Ah! from Mr. 
 Lyman” (Genl. Lyman of Boston). I said no. Then the 
 other, “Ah! from Mr. Thorndike.” Wrong again. We 
 spoke of Mr. Clay's retirement in Kentucky; presently of 
 Randolph. ‘ ‘ Randolph—ha! Randolph's from Kentucky! ’ ’ 
 What does papa think Mr. Randolph would say to such a 
 mistake ? 
 
 In March, Burton Harrison was at Weimar, after a 
 pedestrian excursion in the Harz Mountains. In 
 “white breeches, sword, and chapeau,” he was, on 
 Sunday, April 4, presented at the court of Saxe- 
 Weimar-Eisenach, then still the Athens of German 
 literature, for although the Grand Duke Karl August, 
 the patron of Goethe and Schiller, was recently dead, 
 the tradition of his reign still survived at the levees 
 and evening parties of his son Karl Friedrich, the 
 brother of the Prince Bernhard whom Burton Harrison 
 had met at Ghent. He was made welcome in the court 
 society, and he stayed a month in attendance, being 
 received twice most graciously by the grand duchess, 
 who was Maria Pavlowna, sister to the Czar Alex¬ 
 ander I. 
 
 He had presented his letter from Prince Bernhard 
 to Goethe, and received an appointment to call. In 
 Goethe’s ‘ ‘ Tagebiicher, ’ ’ published at Weimar in 1901, 
 are the entries: 
 
 1830, Mdrz 24. Ein Amerikaner Harrison, empfohlen von 
 Herzog Bernhard, meldete sich. . . . Mdrz 25. Herr Harri¬ 
 son aus Virginien, empfohlen von Herzog Bernhard. . . . 
 
 L 116 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 The following account of the visit is taken from the 
 notes of a hurried diary: 1 
 
 Next day at 11 drove to his Excellency v. Goethe’s. House 
 rather extensive and of pretty fair exterior: 2 stories with 
 a comfortable attic, the latter appropriated to Madame de 
 Goethe’s receptions, the house flanked by a porte cochere on 
 each side. Found a little confusion below as I drove up, the 
 bonne being in expectation of the Duchess. Conducted up. 
 Passed two bronzes from antiques, besides a bronze grey¬ 
 hound. At threshold of his receiving rooms “Salve” writ¬ 
 ten. He dressed in brown surtout, wrapped round his body. 
 Noble presence. Rich, rather voluptuous cheerful expression 
 of ye eye and in a supreme degree of the mouth, though some¬ 
 what collapsed. The portrait from Stieler at request of the 
 King of Bavaria, who visited him on his birthday in 1828, 
 representing him holding a letter in his hand signed “Lud¬ 
 wig,” of which a fac simile hangs in Madame de Goethe’s 
 rooms, is altogether perfect. 2 The room was crowded with 
 bits of relief, medals, etc., showing the direction towards 
 studies in art which his mind has for some years taken. His 
 eigentliches Arbeitszimmer, as Miss Froriep 3 tells me, no 
 
 1 Mr. L. L. Mackall, an American scholar now resident at Jena, one 
 of the editors of the new standard edition of Goethe’s Conversations 
 (“Goethe’s Gesprache, Gesamtausgabe, neu herausgegeben von FI. 
 Frhr. v. Biedermann unter Mitwirkung von M. Morris, H. G. Graf und 
 L. L. Mackall”), has made a specialty of the relations of Ameri¬ 
 cans with Goethe, and at his request a copy of this extract from Burton 
 Harrison’s diary has been included in the forthcoming “Gesprache.” 
 In return, Mr. Mackall has been good enough to supply some learned 
 and curious notes of Weimar at the time of Burton Harrison’s visit. 
 
 2 Burton Harrison brought home with him and hung in his New 
 Orleans law office an engraving of the Stieler portrait, which subse¬ 
 quently hung in his son’s dining-room in New York—a noble head. Mr. 
 Mackall observes that it was painted by Stieler in May-June, 1828, for 
 King Ludwig I of Bavaria, and is in the Old Pinakothek in Munich. 
 The king gave Goethe a copy by Stieler’s nephew, Fr. Diirck, which 
 Goethe thought was by Stieler. It still hangs in Goethe’s house in Wei¬ 
 mar. The text of the letter from the king which appears in the portrait 
 was printed in the “Goethe Jahrbuch, 1902,” p. 48. 
 
 3 Emma von Froriep was the only daughter of Ober-Medizinal-Rath Lud- 
 
 CH7] 
 
ABIS SOXIS rOCISQTE 
 
 foreigner is allowed to see. from a just dread of indecent 
 exposure to the travel reading public. He saluted me un¬ 
 expectedly in French, asked pertinent and shrewd questions 
 about Virginia, evidently determined to make me the talker: 
 seemed well acquainted with general plan of Mr. Jefferson's 
 university. 1 I explained to him its connection with the 
 State. Asked where I was educated—Harvard. Praised 
 Everett “une tonne fete,” had read many of his produc¬ 
 tions: seemed, however, to confound the two brothers. If 
 young men from America any longer went to England for 
 their education. Spoke of Duke B.'s enthusiastic attachment 
 to America. Made a hasty adieu, exceedingly soft hand. 
 "Visited me success in life. I agree with other strangers that 
 his manner is not free from a slight embarrassment: he is 
 evidently not quite easy in his French. 2 
 
 wig Friedrich tod. Frcriep (1779-1547), who had married a daughter of 
 the learned and scholarly publisher. Fr. J. Bertueh (1747-1522), and ac¬ 
 quired Bertueh's famous Landes-Industrie-Comptoir with its great geo¬ 
 graphical institute. Bertueh had been one of the Weimar Court of the 
 Muses during the time of the Grand Duke Karl August. (Cf. Allge- 
 meine Deutsche Biographie. ToL Ft. p. 552). Burton Harrison formed 
 a sincere friendship with Dr. Froriep, and after he got home to Vir¬ 
 ginia wrote him the letter of September 1. 1S31. which is quoted here¬ 
 after. This letter was found among Dr. Froriep "s papers at Weimar in 
 the possession of his granddaughter, Fraulein Bertha won Froriep, and 
 was transcribed by Mr. L. L. Mac-kail in March, 1910. 
 
 i Mr. Mackall notes that Goethe borrowed Bandolph's “Jefferson” 
 from the grand-ducal library at Weimar May 14-22. 1S30, “possibly as 
 a result of Goethe’s interest in Jefferson hating been aroused by your 
 grandfather.' ’ 
 
 i It is interesting to recall that Thackeray was at Weimar and was 
 received by Goethe three months later than Burton Harrison. Thack¬ 
 eray s account of his reception is so strikingly like that just quoted 
 that it is here appended. It was contained in a letter from Thackeray 
 to Lewes, written in 1S55 (Lewes, “Goethe,” p. 559) : 
 
 • ‘ Of course I remember very well the perturbation of spirit with which, 
 as a lad of nineteen, I received the long expected intimation that the 
 Herr Geheimrath would see me on such a morning. This notable audi¬ 
 ence took plac-e in a little ante chamber of his private apartments, cov¬ 
 ered all round with antique casts and bas reliefs. He was habited in a 
 Ions grey or drab redingote, with a white neck cloth and a red ribbon 
 
 [ 118 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 From Weimar Burton Harrison went to Berlin, 
 stopping en route at Leipzig, then the center of the 
 inland trade of Europe, where the Occident and the 
 Orient met for barter. Here he rejoiced in the 
 greatest book-market of the world, a congress of pub¬ 
 lishers. “I called on Black, of London,” he writes, 
 “who sho’d me the prospectus and list of subscribers 
 of Webster’s dictionary, which he is to publish, the 
 best, he said, undoubtedly, in the language, tho’ Lord 
 Liverpool had said to him ‘No! No! we don’t go to 
 America for our English at least.’ ” Berlin he found 
 dull, it being the summer season, and most of those to 
 whom his letters were addressed were away; but he 
 spent his time usefully in making some economic in¬ 
 vestigations requested by Henry Clay: as to “ the prac¬ 
 tical inconveniences to which Germany is subjected by 
 the division and subdivision of it into Independent 
 States. Useful admonition may, I presume,” added 
 Mr. Clay, “be drawn from that fact against the divi¬ 
 sion of our own Union, the greatest misfortune which 
 could befall our country”; as to what observations 
 might be made upon the status of the Russian serfs 
 
 in his button hole. He kept his hands behind his back, just as in 
 Rauch’s statuette. His complexion was very bright, clear and rosy. 
 His eyes extraordinarily dark, piercing and brilliant. I felt quite afraid 
 before them and recollect comparing them to the eyes of the hero of a 
 certain romance called 'Melmoth, the Wanderer,’ which used to alarm 
 us boys thirty years ago; eyes of an individual who had made a bargain 
 with a Certain Person and at an extreme old age retained these eyes in 
 all their awful splendour. I fancied Goethe must have been still more 
 handsome as an old man than even in the days of his youth. His voice 
 was very rich and sweet. He asked me questions about myself, which I 
 answered as best I could. I recollect I was at first astonished and then 
 somewhat relieved when I found he spoke French with not a good 
 accent. ’ ’ 
 
 Life at Weimar enamoured Thackeray of literature and persuaded 
 him to abandon his purpose of being called to the bar. Upon Burton 
 Harrison it had precisely the opposite effect! 
 
 n us n 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 to aid in consideration of the negro question in 
 America; and as to the state of German manufactures 
 and the protection extended to them by government: 
 on all of these questions he reported intelligently to 
 Mr. Clay. He was received most hospitably at Tegel 
 by the Baron Karl Wilhelm von Humboldt, the brother 
 of the traveler, and himself a first-rate scholar in 
 comparative linguistics, as well as a minister of state. 
 At Karlsbad he found further opportunity to indulge 
 in his hearty diversion of dancing: 
 
 I waltzed here with noble envy against the Spanish Secre¬ 
 tary of Legation from Dresden, a most sublime fellow and 
 the best waltzer I ever saw—the ladies complimented me by 
 saying I danced like a native Deutscher, but I shook my head 
 —the Don was beyond me. 
 
 After visiting Munich and making a pedestrian ex¬ 
 cursion through Switzerland, he was in Venice in Sep¬ 
 tember, and he remained in Italy until the spring of 
 1831. At Borne he was at first much gratified and im¬ 
 pressed by the condescending hospitality with which 
 he was received by his banker, Torlonia, Duke of 
 Bracciano, until he learned that the splendid enter¬ 
 tainments of that prince of amphitryons were open to 
 all his customers, who paid for them in excessive rates 
 of exchange. 
 
 He summed up the experiences of this winter in a 
 letter written to his friend Dr. Proriep of Weimar, on 
 September 1, 1831, after his return to Virginia: 
 
 After leaving Berlin I came to Dresden, where I spent a 
 day or two with Fenimore Cooper, receiving the first news 
 of the French Revolution. Cooper with his wife and three 
 children immediately set off for Paris—I went into the Baths 
 of Toplitz and Karlsbad for ten days. Cooper passed through 
 Weimar and when I met him afterwards in Paris he ridi- 
 
 £120 3 
 
JESSE BUETON HAEEISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 culed the town: we waged a war often about it. 1 At Miin- 
 chen I was joined by a young Scotchman of my acquain¬ 
 tance who went with me to Switzerland: at Constance we 
 turned pedestrians and walked about a hundred leagues in 
 fourteen days. We entered the diligence at Geneva, crossed 
 the Simplon to Milan, thence through Verona to Venice. 
 
 I do not know how it is with you Germans, but surely the 
 English imagination comes to Venice prepared in the fittest 
 manner to enjoy its strange and semi-barbarous pomp, and 
 to muse on its shadowy grandeur as with a feeling of a pre¬ 
 existent life spent in it ages ago. Did it not seem to you 
 more imposing to the fancy than any other possible scene, 
 unless it yield to Constantinople? From Venice—dear, 
 dreamy, grotesque Venice—I passed through Bologna to 
 Florence, where I spent October, thence to Rome where I 
 passed the Winter. I made the acquaintance of Mons. de 
 Kolle there; he is certainly well acquainted with Rome and 
 Italy, and an accomplished man. It was my good fortune 
 to witness the whole round of the grand old historical cere¬ 
 monies of the Papal government, at the death of Pius VIII, 
 the going into conclave, the election, consecration and coro¬ 
 nation of Gregory XVI, with the carnival and the illumina¬ 
 tion of St. Peter’s, and the fireworks at St. Angelo. I was 
 not able to add to this list the ceremonies of Holy Week; for, 
 after a short trip to Naples I was obliged to return to Paris 
 in the end of February, which I did by land entirely, over 
 Genoa, Turin, Mont Cenis and Lyons. When w’e arrived at 
 the first posthouse above Suze on Mont Cenis we were un¬ 
 comfortably surprised by learning that five avalanches had 
 blocked up the road, and so we resigned ourselves in the 
 hope that the peasants and the cantonniers would speedily 
 
 i Mr. Mackall comments on this passage: “Goethe read Fenimore 
 Cooper’s books with great interest and admired them, but Cooper con¬ 
 sidered Goethe merely a ‘coddled celebrity’ whose reputation would 
 soon die out. Cf. the strange passage in Cooper’s ‘ Residence in France, ’ 
 etc., Letter XIV (Philadelphia, 1836, II, 25 f.), which naturally 
 roused the ire of Goethe’s friend Riemer (‘ Mittheilungen iiber Goethe, ’ 
 Berlin, 1841, I, 424, 477). On Goethe’s reading Cooper’s works, I gave 
 a note in the ‘Goethe Jahrbueh, 1904,’ p. 21 (n. 3).” 
 
 [ 121 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 clear it out for us. Here we passed three days in conju¬ 
 gating the verb, je m’ennuie, and studying the anatomy of 
 veal, for we had nothing else to eat. We had cotelettes de 
 veau, potage de veau, tete de veau, pieds de veau, etc. and 
 just as we were completing the physiology of calf, on the 
 third night, the magnificent Prince de Carignan came by and 
 forced a passage: we sailed through next day voting unani¬ 
 mously that he deserved to be King forthwith. 
 
 In Italy I met hosts of Germans of every character, and 
 was positively often taken for a German myself—-not on ac¬ 
 count of the purity of my language, (this would not have 
 been surprising) but from my physiognomy! I was one day 
 standing at a bookstall in Florence, when a man came up and 
 after looking at me earnestly said in German: “you certainly 
 are a German! ” I conversed with him: he was from Gotha, 
 a physician, and knew you, so for your sake I excused his 
 impertinence. I had not supposed my appearance very Ger¬ 
 man, though I recollect I had a German silk hat on, which 
 upon my honor I bought in Weimar for castor. May the silk 
 hat be called a feature of the German national physiognomy ? 
 After two months in Paris I went to London for a short time. 
 I have a thousand and one reasons for not liking England, 
 which I will spare you, only hinting that I am preparing an 
 essay to be a grand attach on the whole English civilization 
 in which I shall tear up all things like a very giant of Sol- 
 fatara. You will read it in the North American Review one 
 day. 1 
 
 In March he was again in Paris, with his home pen¬ 
 nant flying. The Revolution of July had overturned 
 the government since last he was in Prance, and all 
 the talk was once more of liberty, equality, and fra¬ 
 ternity : 
 
 Last evening, I dined with Mr. Julien, editor of the Revue 
 Encyclopedique, and a large body of literary men, a regular 
 
 ilt was actually published in Legare’s Southern Review for Febru¬ 
 ary, 1832. 
 
 ni22] 
 
JESSE BUETON HABKISON OF NEW OELEANS 
 
 dinner this, every second Tuesday in the month. Santander 
 and Lablache, the great basso of the Italian opera, were the 
 only notabilities. After dinner a great many to-asts (so 
 pronounced) were drunk; first to Poland and Italy, then 
 Belgium, Greece, Spain, besides private healths plumply put, 
 and finally we swilled (it was vin ordinaire at 10 cents a 
 bottle) to the freedom of the human race. Mr. Julien, by 
 the way, was formerly private Secretary to Robespierre. The 
 speeches accompanying these toasts were for all the world 
 like our own. Tho’ Frenchmen do not want fluency, they 
 rarely speak well extempore; they instantly fall into a cer¬ 
 tain cant of sentiment which at first is a little striking, but 
 soon wearies. I was introduced as “ le right honorable Mon¬ 
 sieur Harrison.” Can’t praise the dinner. Your literary 
 gourmand is a sad starveling. 
 
 Before he left for England, he was much tempted 
 by an offer which the American Minister, Mr. Rives, 
 made to keep him as secretary of legation, but he re¬ 
 membered a violent anti-Jackson speech which he had 
 made at home in the campaign of 1828, and he justly 
 feared that when the President heard of him, his term 
 of office would be summarily ended; so he turned his 
 face resolutely homeward. 
 
 He had a taste of London society, being entertained 
 by his banker, Samuel Rogers, the poet; he renewed 
 his acquaintance with Professor George Long; and he 
 made a friend of Macaulay, with whom he had pre¬ 
 viously corresponded. His letters also opened to him 
 more fashionable, if less intellectual, doors. In a note 
 transmitting some introductions, Mr. Clay said: 
 
 The Earl of Westmoreland, to whom one of them is ad¬ 
 dressed, was, when I knew him, a frank, open-hearted, gen¬ 
 erous person, but not of the first order of intellect. I thought 
 it likely he might introduce you into a circle which you might 
 wish to see something of. 
 
 ci23n 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Burton Harrison’s political philosophy, from his 
 initiation at the feet of Jefferson to his graduation in 
 the school of Clay, was all anti-English, and during 
 his winter in Italy his experience with English tour¬ 
 ists had confirmed him in a disapprobation of the 
 English character which hardened as he grew older. 
 From Paris he had written that he fairly dreaded the 
 necessity of staying two whole weeks in the London he 
 had never seen, and we may judge that his prejudice 
 was not materially affected by the courtesies which he 
 received at the hands of his English hosts, from his 
 observations in the essay on “English Civilization,” 
 published soon after his return to Virginia: 
 
 Another legitimate topic is the actual degree of refine¬ 
 ment in England. Observing travellers inform us that the 
 aristocratic sentiment has even advanced with gigantic strides 
 in English society in the last fifty years, while in France it 
 is virtually extinct. That it pervades the Whigs as thor¬ 
 oughly as the Tories, thus rendering that which was the 
 most odious feature of Toryism an essential quality of the 
 name Englishman. That it exhibits itself in its upward 
 aspect servile, and in its downward supercilious and repul¬ 
 sive. Never saw the world such private fortunes, nor so 
 many of them, never such perfection in the common arts of 
 life, never greater luxury and certainly never so artificial a 
 state of society. The leading alteration which manners have 
 suffered in the present century, undoubtedly, is the appear¬ 
 ance for the first time of a systematized coldness or apathy, 
 which, beginning in the upper ranks, is spreading every 
 where. Not to admire is all the art they know: were Horace, » 
 who was we take it the first of this school, to come among 
 them now, he would be tartly reprimanded we fear for the 
 positive buoyancy of his character. Enthusiasm is the single 
 horror of these people. We wish we had a few specimens of 
 the negative, passionless, unpretending style in our com- 
 
 C124] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 munity, which is composed, in two great parts, of men per¬ 
 petually intent on popular admiration, of over polite, bus¬ 
 tling, enthusiastic people. But the stoicism of Grosvenor 
 Square, in becoming national, will not fail to serve as an 
 extinguisher of much vivacity of mind and heart, and may 
 go far to reduce our Inglese to a very dull, selfish person. 
 What apology for dullness, and cloak for inferiority of soul, 
 was ever invented equal to this? Of necessity, this new 
 style is accompanied by the introduction of a perfect system 
 of exclusive castes. It is quite true that the reign of the 
 Exquisites is ended, and that of the Exclusives begun: the 
 Dandies are voted to have been too violent pretenders, and a 
 recherche simplicity is voted in. In the exclusive system the 
 rival claims of blood and wealth have been nicely adjusted, 
 and now people may associate without losing dignity, i.e. 
 with their own set. To be sure the system makes one Eng¬ 
 lishman singularly afraid of another, or singularly rude to 
 him, whom he meets without knowing him, at the same time 
 that they both would agree to shower honour on a foreigner 
 to whom they may attribute any sphere they please. We 
 sadly suspect, however, that this artificial arrangement is 
 a miserable servitude, that tortures like the rack many a 
 luckless monster with a sympathetic, social, communicative 
 turn. The Englishman is still the best horseman and the 
 gentlest sportsman in Europe—he claims to be the best 
 dressed man: perhaps he is. Though he must be admitted 
 to have the poorest national cuisine extant, yet he has the 
 sagacity to hire foreign science, and avenges the unwilling¬ 
 ness of Minerve Gourmande by unlimited cant. Though he 
 never comes to speak French well, yet he manages to talk 
 more French in his English than Old Burton would have 
 cited of all his languages, in the same length of time. . . . 
 After all, in point of whatever goes to make up manhood, 
 we fear that the present apathetic, exclusive English, though 
 they have passed the Catholic Bill, and may pass the Reform 
 Bill, yet are hardly worth the men of Merton and Runny- 
 mede. 
 
 C125 3 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 After two years’ absence Burton Harrison reached 
 home in June, 1831. His sincere affection for his 
 family was not altered, but his entire intellectual phi¬ 
 losophy had suffered a sea-change. On September 1, 
 1831, he wrote from Lynchburg to his friend Dr. 
 Froriep at Weimar: 
 
 Will it be any pleasure to you to know that I am at length 
 safely returned from my long exile, and am enjoying the 
 congratulations of my friends, among whom I find little 
 change,—in the bosom of a numerous circle of father, mother, 
 brothers and sisters, all of whom are alive and in good health ? 
 I myself had visited all the climates of Europe, without ever 
 being sick half an hour, in two years. What good Provi¬ 
 dence has granted me this happiness? Did I not tell you 
 how many objects of solicitude I had left in America, and 
 how I trembled whenever I received a letter from home lest 
 some dear one might be lost to me? but I have found them 
 all together, with beating hearts, and a place in those hearts 
 for me! My memory blesses many of the spots where I found 
 pleasant scenes and attached friends in Europe, but I assure 
 you no place is surer of a long hold on my thoughts than 
 Weimar—might I choose where I would rather spend a year, 
 I should be much puzzled between Weimar and Paris. This 
 is true though I suspect you will think it un peu fort. . . . 
 
 At last behold me at home. My native town Lynchburg 
 was, when I left it, a pleasant little place remarkable for the 
 picturesque character of its hilly situation, with 5000 inhabi¬ 
 tants chiefly occupied in the commerce of Tobacco, but pos¬ 
 sessing a circle of refined people disposed to contribute in 
 every way to the social gratification of its members. I might 
 have hoped to enjoy here a quiet and subdued kind of plea¬ 
 sure after my long wanderings, but I find a prodigious revo¬ 
 lution. I will describe it to you, for it is one of the charac¬ 
 teristics of America at present. The whole Town with scarce 
 any exception is over-run with a fanatical religious spirit 
 that employs all thoughts, interrupts all business, forbids all 
 social parties, treats all dancing as the greatest of crimes 
 
 C 126 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 (compassionate the necessities of my legs, so long used to the 
 gallopade) and in fact is a “Schwarmerey” which leaves the 
 English Evangelicals a thousand leagues behind. Could you 
 see for a moment an American religious newspaper you 
 would be amazed at the symptoms every where displayed of 
 an age of barbarism rushing in upon us, an inroad of holy 
 Vandals. 
 
 I am not yet decided where I shall make my home: I shall 
 leave Virginia to go either to Baltimore or New Orleans I 
 rather think. When I am settled at either of those ports 
 1 shall be able to send you from time to time some acceptable 
 trifles either of books or rarities of our climate which I hope 
 may gratify you. Pray write to me immediately in German 
 and address aux soins de la Legation des 6tats Unis d Paris 
 to me in Lynchburg, Virginia—the legation will take charge 
 of it if sent free of postage to Paris. I kiss the hands of the 
 most gracious Madame and of Miss Froriep. I shall perhaps 
 be able to forward some appropriate offering to her Imperial 
 Highness and shall then beg you to lay me at her feet. I 
 have naturally conceived the distress of the family at the 
 Palace for the late events in the Pays Bas and Poland. She 
 is a noble lady and heaven bless her! Present me to Mad. de 
 Spiegel and to Professor Luden. And now adieu. 
 
 He was completely cured of his academical aspira¬ 
 tions. At Gottingen, and elsewhere in Europe, he had 
 met scholars of an erudition far beyond anything ex¬ 
 isting in America, but with reputations which were 
 bounded by college walls. It seemed to him that, after 
 all, it must be many years before there could be such 
 scholarship in America, and that, meanwhile, there 
 were better things that he could do with his generous 
 youth. The migrating spirit which stirred his father 
 and his grandfather, as it had the immigrant Richard, 
 summoned him also, and the consciousness of a facile 
 eloquence had awakened the political ambition in his 
 bosom. He was keenly alive to realization of the low 
 
 [ 127 :] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ebb of economic opportunity, as of literature, in tlie 
 Virginia which he knew so well. The facts that he re¬ 
 hearsed in his Hampden-Sidney address, and those he 
 was soon to publish in his Slavery essay, proved this. 
 He could expect no scope for his ambition at home. On 
 the other hand, all his world was gazing westward. His 
 cousin Henry Clay had gone West out of Virginia and 
 was now one of the elder statesmen of the nation; his 
 friend James Brown, the late Minister to France, had 
 achieved fame and fortune by a like emigration. By 
 these exemplars of successful transplantation he was 
 advised that New Orleans offered the greatest metro¬ 
 politan prizes to a Southern man; and he heard of 
 other brilliant contemporaries, like Theodore Gaillard 
 Hunt and Randall Hunt of Charleston, who were about 
 to establish themselves in Louisiana. So he, too, was 
 led to the decision to go West. The following letter 
 determined him to seek his professional and political 
 fortunes in New Orleans: 
 
 Ashland 11" Sept. 1831 
 
 Dear Sir 
 
 I have reed, your favor of the 28" ulto. requesting my 
 opinion as to a suitable place to establish yourself, in your 
 profession, West of the Mountains. There is some difficulty 
 in advising on such a subject, without knowing whether you 
 mean to dedicate yourself exclusively to the Law, or to com¬ 
 bine with its practice present or ultimate views to politics. 
 The observations which I will make may be applied to both. 
 
 The elements of successful professional income are popu¬ 
 lation and wealth. When both are united, in a great degree, 
 there is consequently much business and great demand for 
 members of the profession. A poor but highly dense popula¬ 
 tion may supply adequate professional employment, as a 
 great accumulation of wealth, with a spare population, may 
 also do. The objection to Lynchburg, I should think, is that 
 neither of these elements exists in sufficient degree. The 
 
 [128 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 same objection applies to Natchez, where however there is 
 more wealth. The society is very good in that City, there is 
 not much serious competition in the profession, but the prac¬ 
 tice is very laborious, requiring excursions from 50 to 150 
 miles. 
 
 If I were to make a situation for myself I should think of 
 Columbus and Cincinnati in Ohio, Louisville and N. Orleans. 
 Columbus offers greater political and fewer pecuniary ad¬ 
 vantages than either. It will in 15 or 20 years contain a 
 population of 10 or 12 thousand, now it has about 2 or 3. 
 It is finely situated on a high bank of the Scioto, is sur¬ 
 rounded by a rich and fertile country, and is the permanent 
 seat of Government. Society there is plain but respectable. 
 A man who would establish himself there, live economically 
 and industriously, throw his surplus gains into town prop¬ 
 erty, and persevere 15 or 20 years would find himself rich, 
 and, if he had a popular turn, might secure any political 
 elevation which the State affords. 
 
 Cincinnati is the most rising City of the West, is much 
 better than Columbus for business, society and enjoyment, 
 and is not much inferior as a political location. There is 
 however a numerous bar at that place, and professional ser¬ 
 vices I believe are not very highly rewarded. 
 
 There is less competition at Louisville, which is, next to 
 Cincinnati, the Western City that is most rapidly increasing. 
 A greater amount of business is probably transacted at the 
 former than the latter place. It is in fewer hands, and I 
 believe that professional services are much better paid there. 
 There are several respectable members of the Bar at Louis¬ 
 ville but not one who is first rate. It was formerly unhealthy 
 but is otherwise now. Society is pretty good. The character 
 of the population is more decidedly commercial than that of 
 Cincinnati. 
 
 There is a numerous, though I do not think generally, a 
 very talented Bar at N. Orleans. Magureau, among the 
 French lawyers, and Grvrnes among the American stand at 
 its head. Both are eminent. The former would be regarded 
 so at the Court of Cassation. Neither is popular. Neither 
 
 C129] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 possesses the public confidence in their pecuniary transac¬ 
 tions. There are other Lawyers in N.O. who make more 
 money, but none occasionally obtain such high fees. In a 
 single case, including his fees and commissions, Magureau 
 some time ago received $19,000. Business is immense at N. 
 Orleans, and it is rapidly increasing, and must inevitably 
 increase. The repeal of the duty on sugar would give Louisi¬ 
 ana a severe shock, but the business of N.O. would still aug¬ 
 ment. Your knowledge of French and Spanish would be of 
 great advantage to you. They are almost indispensable. 
 Sometimes, to obviate the inconvenience of a want of them, a 
 connexion is formed between a French and an American 
 Lawyer, but all partnerships are bad and unequal. 
 
 N. Orleans has the air, manners, language and factions of 
 an European Continental City. Society upon the whole is 
 very good, and you may have any sort, gay or grave, Ameri¬ 
 can, Creole, or Foreign, learned or unlearned, commercial 
 or professional, black, white, yellow or red. 
 
 Twelve years ago I had a thought of going to that City, 
 and they offered to guaranty a practice of $18,000 per 
 annum, and I believe I could have made it. Should I not 
 have done better than to have been the greater part of the 
 intervening time running the gauntlet of politics? Last 
 winter, my opinion was asked professionally upon a novel 
 case of insurance. I gave it, and a check was handed to me 
 for $500 with a promise of $500 more, if it should be settled 
 according to my opinion. It has been since compromised on 
 that basis. 
 
 The Courts are generally shut the sickly months, so that 
 you could come to the "West or go to the North, as unques¬ 
 tionably you ought to do, if you go there, during their con¬ 
 tinuance. 
 
 Practice is very simple. The flummery of special plead¬ 
 ing is entirely dispensed with. Every man’s complaint or 
 defense is stated just as it is, without any regard to techni¬ 
 cal forms. 
 
 Upon the whole, I think if I had your youth and attain¬ 
 ments I should go to N.O., and, if I did not, to Louisville. 
 
 [130 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 But, my dear sir, your own eye and your own observation 
 should decide alone for you. You ought to reconnoitre and 
 judge for yourself. Should you determine to do so, I hope 
 I may have the pleasure of seeing you here. My son in law 
 and daughter pass their winters at N. 0. and their summer 
 at their residence adjoining mine. They, together with my 
 son Henry, now engaged in the study of the law, will go in 
 November to that City. They would be glad to meet or go 
 with you there. 
 
 Louisiana does not, I need hardly remark, offer such ad¬ 
 vantages for high political elevation, as several other States. 
 
 I am cordially & truly 
 
 Your friend & Obt. Servt. 
 
 H. Clay 
 
 J. Burton Harrison Esq. 
 
 Soon after he arrived at home, Burton Harrison 
 delivered in the Presbyterian Church at Lynchburg, 
 on July 23, 1831, an oration upon the recent death of 
 James Monroe, and in December, 1831, went as a dele¬ 
 gate from Virginia to the Baltimore Convention which 
 formally founded the National Republican party and 
 nominated Henry Clay for the Presidency. He was 
 now fairly launched on a public life, and so declined a 
 very gratifying and flattering invitation from some 
 members of Mr. Jefferson’s family to write a philo¬ 
 sophical “Life” founded upon the correspondence 
 which had just been published by T. J. Randolph. He 
 based his refusal on the ground of his expected re¬ 
 moval from Virginia; but it is probable that he felt 
 himself too much out of sympathy with the Jeffer¬ 
 sonian political philosophy to do justice to the subject. 
 Jefferson’s grandson-in-law and Burton Harrison’s 
 affectionate friend, Nicholas P. Trist, wrote him on 
 the subject of this proposed life again in April, 1832, 
 apropos of the essay on “English Civilization”: 
 
 [1311 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 My delight has been great to see in you the workings of 
 philosophic democracy. . . . Pondering on this piece, une 
 idee m’est venue. You must begin now, to think about a Life 
 of the Great Democrat. Justice must be done him—the mos¬ 
 quitos must be brushed away. I know no one equally capable 
 to do this. Your mind is familiar with the ideas, a familiar¬ 
 ity with wh. is necessary to enable one to dive into the sub¬ 
 ject, and bring to light & develop the doings of Thos. J. 
 Tucker (the Professor) is at work on this subject. He will 
 do something. You must come after, and be Condorcet to our 
 Turgot. (See Westminster Rev. for Jan. 1832.) Begin, I 
 say, to prepare yr. mind for this undertaking. Since this 
 idea came into my head, the papers have announced an 
 attack on T. J. by Harry Lee! It will doubtless be well 
 managed. Can’t you undertake a review? I ’ve been told, 
 too, that the new edition of Marshall’s Washington (Wat¬ 
 kins Leigh juvante) is also to come down upon him. 
 
 It was during the summer after his return from 
 Europe that he wrote his essay on “English Civiliza¬ 
 tion, ’ ’ which was published in Legare’s magazine, the 
 Southern Review, in February, 1832. This, the first 
 literary fruit of his foreign education, may be taken 
 as the political platform of his mature philosophy— 
 the thesis upon which he obtained his degree of World 
 Experience. The essay is an argument that, while 
 England is the greatest exemplar of liberty, she is 
 the most selfish nation on earth, and, as there is no 
 reason for any distressed nation in which she has no 
 interest to look to her for political assistance, what¬ 
 ever may be its human appeal, so in literature and 
 manners the people of the United States cannot find 
 in England as wholesome influence as on the Conti¬ 
 nent; that in England only the actual is approved, 
 while in France and Germany, as in America, the de¬ 
 sirable is the universal quest; and from such premises 
 
 C132] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 lie makes his plea for the importation of French news¬ 
 papers and for the study in America of German phi¬ 
 losophy and metaphysics. 
 
 Immediately after the Baltimore Convention he 
 went to New Orleans, stopping at Cincinnati and St. 
 Louis on the way. At Cincinnati he began a friend¬ 
 ship with Salmon P. Chase, which was afterward to 
 be of service to his son when Mr. Chase was Chief 
 Justice of the United States, and the son a prisoner 
 of war. They had a common ground in their anti¬ 
 slavery sentiments, as well as in love of letters. The 
 following spring Mr. Chase wrote to Burton Harrison 
 inviting his cooperation in the founding of a proposed 
 review to be devoted to the interests of the West, but 
 to have, as Mr. Chase said, other contributors: “I 
 may say there will be the Reverend Mr. Peabody, a 
 scholar and writer of the first water, Mr. Walker, to 
 whom I introduced you when here, and myself. We 
 shall depend upon you for an occasional article; for 
 the first number we shall expect articles from Wirt, 
 Webster, the Everetts and Judge Hale, of Illinois.” 
 At St. Louis, on the introduction of his father’s 
 cousin, Christopher Anthony, he made the acquain¬ 
 tance of another cousin of the Jordan connection, Ed¬ 
 ward Bates, who was later to be Attorney-General in 
 Lincoln’s cabinet. 
 
 Burton Harrison was admitted to the Louisiana bar 
 on January 6, 1832. His fluency in French and Span¬ 
 ish, languages which were both still in daily use in the 
 Louisiana law courts, was, as Mr. Clay had predicted, 
 of great advantage to him, and he soon established 
 himself in successful practice. An epidemic of 
 Asiatic cholera caused him, still unacclimated, to flee 
 the first tropical summer, and he took the opportunity 
 to visit Saratoga Springs with a cloud of New Orleans 
 
 [13311 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 refugees, and later to spend some months studying at 
 Cambridge. During this sojourn in New England he 
 renewed his acquaintance with Daniel Webster, Tick- 
 nor, and Edward Everett; and met for the first time 
 Everett’s elder brother, A. H. Everett, then the editor 
 of the North American Review, whom he was to know 
 better in New Orleans, when Everett came there in 
 1840 to take the chair at Jefferson College which Bur¬ 
 ton Harrison had refused. He dined with Webster 
 and with Jeremiah Mason, and he wrote home gaily 
 of the table-talk of both of these political potentates; 
 but he found time also for the pleasures of the smart 
 evening parties of Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis in Boston. 
 
 The following winter found him hard at work again 
 in New Orleans. He took part in the public activities 
 of the community in many directions, serving as sec¬ 
 retary at the meetings of the bar, lecturing at Jeffer¬ 
 son College, and bearing the principal role in the 
 foundation of the Louisiana Historical Society. He 
 laid the foundation of a strictly professional reputa¬ 
 tion by editing the Louisiana Law Reports, a stern 
 and exacting duty, well done, as his notes were for 
 many years a standard authority at the Louisiana bar. 
 In his preface he said that ‘ ‘ it was believed that one 
 whose discrimination and whose faithfulness could be 
 relied upon might be trusted to do for [the twenty 
 volumes of Judge Martin’s reports] what the industry 
 of Mr. Peters has done for the volumes of Dallas, 
 Cranch and Wheaton. ’ ’ The scope of the work is indi¬ 
 cated by the title-page: ‘ ‘ Condensed reports of Cases 
 in the Supreme Court of the Territory of Orleans and 
 in the Supreme Court of Louisiana, containing the de¬ 
 cisions of those courts from the Autumn Term, 1809, 
 to the March Term, 1830, and which were embraced in 
 the twenty volumes of Fr. Xavier Martin’s Reports, 
 
 [ 134 ] 
 
JESSE BUKTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 with notes, of Louisiana Cases wherein the doctrines 
 are affirmed, contradicted or extended, and of the sub¬ 
 sequent legislation.” The four volumes were pub¬ 
 lished at New Orleans in 1840. His law business 
 growing out of his knowledge of Spanish took him 
 several times to Cuba during this period, and he re¬ 
 joiced in these visits to his lifelong friend, Nicholas 
 P. Trist, who was then United States Consul at 
 Havana. 
 
 In the summer of 1836 he had a political oppor¬ 
 tunity which he seized. The Whigs were deter¬ 
 mined to wrest Louisiana from the grasp of the 
 Jacksonian Democracy, which had dominated the coun¬ 
 try during the eight years “Old Hickory” was Pres¬ 
 ident. Martin Van Buren had been nominated at 
 the behest of Jackson by a servile party, with the pur¬ 
 pose of projecting a strong man’s policies beyond his 
 own administration. The Whigs, under Clay, were 
 disorganized. They had been too long an unsuccessful 
 party of opposition and had lost the steadying sense 
 of responsibility. 1 Clay himself, probably deeming 
 the opportunity inauspicious, would not at the moment 
 risk the effect upon his reputation of another defeat, 
 so it was determined among the Whigs to put up sev¬ 
 eral favorite sons, with the purpose of so dividing the 
 electoral vote as to throw the election into the House 
 of Representatives; and Hugh L. WTiite of Tennessee, 
 W. H. Harrison of Ohio, and Daniel Webster of 
 Massachusetts, were all nominated on Whig tickets. 
 It was believed that White might carry four Southern 
 States, including Louisiana. At Clay’s suggestion, 
 Burton Harrison assumed the editorial conduct of the 
 
 i Burton Harrison’s grandsons, living as Democrats consule Roosevelt, 
 have known how to sympathize with this plight of their Whig grand¬ 
 father in 1836. 
 
 C135 3 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Louisiana Advertiser, the Whig organ of New Or¬ 
 leans, for the campaign. Having celebrated the 
 cloture des seances of the law courts for the summer 
 vacation in some merry verses which were read at a 
 lawyers ’ dinner, Burton Harrison threw himself heart 
 and soul into the campaign. He brought to it a most 
 effective literary equipment and the enthusiasm of 
 political conviction; he was able to support his argu¬ 
 ments by personal reminiscence of the fathers, Jeffer¬ 
 son and Madison, and by acute observation of political 
 conditions in other lands; in addition, he had the fund 
 of classical quotation by which the dignity of Ameri¬ 
 can politics was then still supported. 
 
 He began his editorial work with the “declaration 
 that the undersigned thinks the best interests of the 
 United States forbid the continuance of power in the 
 hands of the Jackson party. A Jackson dynasty is 
 about to be established with the view to extend the 
 misfortune of an eight years’ misrule into the curse 
 of a perpetuity. A dynasty of party chiefs, alternat¬ 
 ing from the iron will of a Jackson to the suppleness 
 of a Van Buren, is attempted to be erected, whose 
 cardinal principle is the ready assumption of a re¬ 
 sponsibility beyond the constitution—fatal to law and 
 to liberty.” He maintained his thesis doughtily. He 
 wrote with spirit, with good manners, and with good 
 humor, but he hit hard. His campaigning ranged 
 from the heavy artillery of the two-columned, double- 
 leaded, carefully reasoned leading article, to the arch¬ 
 ery of jeux d’esprit, such as the following, which made 
 a palpable hit: 
 
 Terence’s portrait op martin van buren 
 
 It is clear that Terence (not O’Rourke, son of the Emerald 
 Isle, but Terence the Comedian) foresaw the greatness of Mr. 
 
 C136] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 Van Buren. So inimitably accurate is his portrait of him, 
 that one would almost imagine the Vice President sat for it 
 during the composition of his letter to Sherrod Williams. 
 It is the Parasite who speaks of himself: 
 
 ‘ ‘ Quidquid dicit, laudo: id rursum si negat, laudo id quoque : 
 Negat quis? nego: ait? aio: postremo imperavi egomet mihi 
 Omnia assentari: is quaestus nunc est multo uberrimus. 
 
 Eun. act 2, sc. 2, 20.” 
 
 Which we, the humble Louisiana Advertiser, have literally 
 translated as follows: 
 
 “Does Jackson call black white? I ’ll swear ’t is true, 
 Then should he eat his words I bolt mine too; 
 
 A point asserts, tomorrow contradicts it? 
 
 Behold me, faithful slave of Ipse dixit! 
 
 This thrifty craft may rule a great event; 
 
 Perchance may Puss in boots make President! ’ ’ 
 
 It is a matter of history that Van Buren was elected. 
 White carried only Tennessee and Georgia; hut 
 though Louisiana went for Van Buren, it was by an 
 unexpectedly small majority, so that the efforts of 
 the Louisiana Advertiser were not without avail. The 
 effect of the campaign upon the political fortunes of 
 Burton Harrison himself was distinct, but not at the 
 moment beneficial. The next winter he was a candi¬ 
 date for a seat on the bench, and the appointment lay 
 with Governor Edward D. White (the father of Mr. 
 Justice White of the Supreme Court of the United 
 States), who said to his friends: “If you will say that 
 Mr. Harrison was not the author of a certain stinging 
 article concerning me which appeared in the Adver¬ 
 tiser, I will appoint him successor to Canonge, for I 
 know him to be fully qualified for the office’’—but he 
 was the author! Although he gave up his editorial 
 pen, as he had stipulated, after the election and when 
 
 C1373 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 the courts met again, he was thenceforth engaged in a 
 political correspondence 1 with the Whig leaders, which 
 reflects his steadily increasing importance in the coun¬ 
 cils of his party. With the cooperation and hearty 
 support of Judge Alexander Porter, who then repre¬ 
 sented Louisiana in the Senate at Washington and 
 was uncle to his wife, he was making plans for his 
 own election to the Senate of the United States when 
 the Whigs should control the State, as they soon after 
 did. This prize, which would have been the realization 
 of his ambition because it spelled opportunity to take 
 the place in the great world for which all his crowded 
 young life he had been preparing, was within his grasp 
 
 i In the ‘ ‘ Burton Harrison Collection ’ ’ MSS. in the Congressional 
 Library are letters addressed to J. Burton Harrison by those mentioned 
 in the text and also by the following distinguished contemporaries: 
 Samuel Livingston Breese, New York (1794-1870), midshipman at battle 
 of Lake Champlain, afterward rear-admiral; Francis J. Brooke of Vir¬ 
 ginia (1763-1851), Revolutionary soldier, lawyer, president Virginia 
 Senate, judge Court of Appeals of Virginia, of which he was president, an 
 intimate friend of Washington; Matthias Bruen of New York (1793- 
 1829), clergyman, missionary, and author, in charge of the American Chapel 
 of the Oratory in Paris, founder of Bleeeker Street Congregation in 
 New York; H. A. Bullard (1781-1851), born in New York, died in New 
 Orleans, Congressman and Supreme Court judge in Louisiana; Henry 
 Carleton (1785-1863),born in Virginia, Supreme Court judge in Louisi¬ 
 ana; John F. H. Claiborne (1809-1884), Congressman from Mississippi, 
 editor and author; General John H. Cocke of Virginia (1780-1866), 
 soldier and vice-president American Colonization Society; J. A. G. Davis 
 of Virginia (1801-1840), professor at University of Virginia and writer 
 on legal topics; Augustus de Morgan (1806-1871), English mathema¬ 
 tician, professor at University of London; A. H. Everett (1792-1847), 
 secretary of legation in Russia and the Netherlands, Minister to Spain, 
 editor North American Review, president Jefferson College in Louisiana, 
 commissioner to China; Rev. Ralph Randolph Gurley (1797-1872) of 
 Connecticut, one of the founders of Liberia, editor of the African Re¬ 
 pository, secretary American Colonization Society; Professor Charles 
 Hodge of Princeton (1797-1878), author of many works on theology; 
 Willie P. Mangum (1792-1861) of North Carolina, Whig Congressman, 
 
 [138 ] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 when, on January 8, 1841, he died, an untimely victim 
 of the sequelae of yellow fever. He had not completed 
 his thirty-sixth year. 
 
 We have selected from the profusion of the Adver¬ 
 tiser editorial pages the following esquisse, not only 
 because it is a picture of an already extinct civiliza¬ 
 tion, but because it contains a melancholy and affect¬ 
 ing prophecy of the swiftly approaching end of Burton 
 Harrison’s own restless career: 
 
 DO YOU PASS THE SUMMER IN TOWN ? 
 
 With the 4th of July and the election ends the season of 
 crowded business in New Orleans, and the genuine summer 
 
 judge, member of the United States Senate, of which he was president 
 pro tem.; Rev. James Marsh of Vermont (1794-1842), professor at 
 Hampden-Sidney, president of University of Vermont; Isaac E. Morse of 
 Louisiana (1809-1866), member of Congress and Attorney-General of 
 Louisiana; Rev. John G. Palfrey of Boston (1796-1881), professor at 
 Harvard, member of Congress, editor; John Pickering (1777-1846), son 
 of Timothy Pickering, State Senator in Massachusetts, philologist; John 
 Hampden Pleasants (1797-1846) of Virginia, editor, founder of the 
 Lynchburg Virginian and of the Constitutional Whig and Public Ad¬ 
 vertiser in Richmond; William Ballard Preston (1805-1862), Whig 
 Congressman from Virginia, Secretary of the Navy under Taylor, mem¬ 
 ber of Confederate Senate; Rev. John Holt Rice of Virginia (1777- 
 1831), protege of Patrick Henry, professor at Hampden-Sidney, which 
 he chose in preference to being president of Princeton; William C. 
 Rives of Virginia (1793-1868), Minister to France and United States 
 Senator; Christian Roselius (1803-1873), leader of the bar at New 
 Orleans; Joseph Torrey (1797-1867), Congregational minister and 
 president of University of Vermont; Nicholas P. Trist (1800-1874), 
 professor United States Military Academy, private secretary to Presi¬ 
 dent Jackson, United States Consul at Havana, peace commissioner to 
 Mexico; George Tucker (1775-1861), Congressman from Virginia, 
 author; Timothy Walker (1806-1856), head of Law School, Cincinnati, 
 judge and author, astronomer; Robert Walsh of Philadelphia (1784- 
 1859), editor and author, founder of National Gazette; D. B. Warden 
 (1778-1845), secretary of legation in Paris, Consul at Paris for forty 
 years, author and member French Academy; Edward Wigglesworth of 
 Boston (1804-1876), associate editor of the Encyclopaedia Americana. 
 
 C1393 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 begins. A few consignments are yet to arrive from above, 
 and a few cargoes are yet to ship: The great passenger boats 
 are mostly gone however, and the tiers of shipping begin to 
 be thinned of their triple and quadruple files. The “army 
 of occupation” of transient traders and of visitors has lifted 
 its banners and marched off; and the happy deserters from 
 our own circles have kissed their hands to us as they flew to 
 exchange the buoyancy of travel for the languor of tropi¬ 
 cal repose! Is it then true that we are left behind ? and that 
 we are to answer, with what visage we may, the weighty 
 question, do you indeed spend the summer in town? But 
 who is it that sighs at such a fate? Tush! not we. The 
 veritable oven-heat of the summer is already over: June has 
 glared forth its arid rays, and now succeeds a more tem¬ 
 pered heat, extreme in the sunshine still, but pleasant in 
 the shade at all hours. At sunset invariably arises a deli¬ 
 cious, restorative breeze which blows from off the islands of 
 the Buccaneers, and reanimates the land, as did the same 
 breeze when on the 14th August, 1492, it blew over the Hay- 
 tien seas, from the new-found Indies of the West to the 
 “world-seeking Genoese.” What city in America has this 
 balmy restorative ? 
 
 Now, the rich baskets of fruit, flavored by the unction of 
 true Bordeaux, light up the daily life of the gay Creole as 
 he sits in robe de chambre and slippers at his breakfast. 
 Now, the merchant, wearied at reflecting on acceptance and 
 endorsement, on outward and inward bound, betakes himself 
 to Carrollton, the Lighthouse, or to the Milnesburg Hotel, 
 and grows gaillard on plats and wines that the Anglo-Saxon, 
 with all his talent of conquest, (as Mr. Preston flatters him) 
 has never learned to know. The declining sun sees the dash¬ 
 ing remise, the snug demi-fortune, the rakish stanhope, rat¬ 
 tling over the shell’d roads that lead to the lake, and the 
 gallant cavalier on his robust trotter taking the welcome dust 
 of their wheels. Night with its moon, which in Louisiana 
 glows just as the traveler still sees it on the plain of Troy, 
 or, when the moon is away, its stars standing clear out in 
 high relief from the sky, as they do in Italy—night sees the 
 
 [140] 
 
JESSE BURTON HARRISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 beautiful little groups clustered in the open air about the 
 doors of their neat one-storied, yellow-walled houses, under 
 the far-projecting eaves so picturesque for this climate: — 
 the father is cracking a little lesson of philosophy, (as the 
 poorest Frenchman knows so well how to do;) the mother, 
 shrewder than Talleyrand, but kind and winning, is telling 
 the ways of men; while the daughters, with their eyes and 
 hair unmatched by the rest of the world, and their sweet 
 cant of voice which melts the souls of Northern men—they 
 listen with half an ear to the conseilles a ma fille and with 
 the rest of their faculties to some charming young partner of 
 last winter’s ball, or to some little cousin who is so young! 
 
 Commend us to such a life for a hundred days! Who will 
 compare with this, the discomfort of entering crowded tav¬ 
 erns with only one dog’s kennel vacant for the newcomer? of 
 roasting in steamboats with three hundred passengers (be¬ 
 tween Baltimore and Boston), your baggage lost in a moun¬ 
 tain of plunder, or in rail-road cars “to bathe in fiery floods” 
 of sparks? Who does not regard the Louisianian as rather 
 leading the life of the Epicurean Gods? Not that we would 
 blaspheme the happy valley of the White Sulphur; no, such 
 a renegado never left Christianity to join the Moors, as would 
 such a sentiment prove us to be if we did. Nor would we 
 disparage the lofty white colonnade of Congress Hall 
 wreathed with vines, nor the saloon where Southern maid is 
 “haul’d about in gallantry robust.” Nay, we admit the joys 
 of Biloxi (dear nestling-place of your newly-paired stock¬ 
 doves!) and of Pascagoula; but let us stay at home, and live 
 the life of the Creole city. 
 
 Adieu done, nos amis! you who are gone, lend us your 
 good wishes! Whether in the heat and vacancy of the long 
 summer, New Orleans shall this year prove fruitful in hot 
 passions ;—arida nutrix leonum , the dry-nurse of bull-dogs: 
 —and we have to tell of many a fellow, proper and tall, 
 popped off his legs by his best friend; or whether the yellow 
 fever shall sap the fortress of life of more than one who was 
 born to be loved by the world, but whose manly heart burst 
 at the end of an unfinished career, with the thought that the 
 
 [ 141 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 world had not yet yielded him what it owed him l 1 Whether 
 these themes are to make the burthen of our columns, or gayer 
 subjects guide our pen—Heaven knows. Let time and the 
 hour drag thro’ the saison morte! Let the clergy pardon 
 our layman’s prayer, half litany, half poetry, that we he 
 shielded against plague, pestilence and famine, and sudden 
 death; and that November may not find us under the clods, 
 rolled round the sun with trees and stones and all inanimate 
 matter. 
 
 As chance would have it, Jesse Burton Harrison had 
 met at New Orleans another family having an origin 
 in the Skimino neighborhood. William Brand had been 
 born in Hanover County, Virginia, in 1780, the son of 
 Joseph Brand, a Scots immigrant of good education, 
 and of Frances Whitlocke, of a family long estab¬ 
 lished in York County, who by intermarriage with 
 their neighbors, the Bacons, were kinsmen of Na¬ 
 thaniel Bacon, the rebel. William Brand emigrated 
 to Louisiana while it was still French territory, served 
 with the Louisiana militia at the battle of New Or¬ 
 leans, and later, with a corps of artisan slaves, be¬ 
 came rich through building operations in New 
 Orleans. He was throughout his life a friend and 
 
 1 Burton Harrison’s friend Edward Wigglesworth of Boston was wont 
 to call New Orleans “the land of mosquitos and hair-triggers.” In a 
 letter from another correspondent dated August 26, 1833, written from 
 New Orleans to Burton Harrison at Philadelphia, we find this character¬ 
 istic gossip of a New Orleans summer of the period: “You have seen 
 by the papers the account of the duel between Hunt and Conrad. The 
 account is untrue in many particulars. Hunt’s pistol went off at the 
 same moment, or nearly so, with Conrad’s. You have perhaps seen, too, 
 that Leigh was wounded in a duel. He fought with McCaleb almost 
 about nothing. I think McCaleb was to blame in the quarrel. They 
 met, the ball struck L. in the right arm and glanced from his back. 
 He then fired in the air, and so, as old Spenser says, they affriended. 
 The yellow fever has killed Drs. Clarke, Hearttee, and McKelthan, and 
 a great many clerks. ’ ’ 
 
 £142 3 
 
 I 
 
JESSE BURTON HAEEISON OF NEW ORLEANS 
 
 partizan of General Andrew Jackson, whom he had 
 entertained at his house in New Orleans in the 
 troublous months after the battle. He married Hetty 
 Reed, a granddaughter of Lieutenant George Mc- 
 Knight, an officer in one of General Braddock’s 
 British regiments in the expedition of 1755 against 
 Fort Duquesne, and of the family of General Joseph 
 Reed, who was military secretary to General Wash¬ 
 ington and President of Pennsylvania. William 
 Brand’s daughter, Frances Brand, named for her 
 Whitlocke grandmother, was a lady of strong char¬ 
 acter and unusual intellectual equipment, possessing 
 both learning and wit. She married Jesse Burton 
 Harrison at New Orleans on July 11, 1835, and of 
 that marriage Burton Norvell Harrison was born. 
 Upon his widowed mother fell the responsibility of 
 shaping his character from earliest youth, and 
 throughout his life he gratefully and dutifully ac¬ 
 knowledged his debt to her in this as in other re¬ 
 spects. She died July 1, 1884, at Maysville, Ken¬ 
 tucky, where she had lived many years with her only 
 other child, her daughter, Mrs. George W. Sulser. 
 
 C143 3 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK (1838-1904) 
 
 B urton norvell 1 harrison was bom 
 
 July 14, 1838, at New Orleans. His father died 
 before lie was three years old, leaving in a note-book 
 an impression of the son as “ a suckling bard of thir¬ 
 teen months, sitting in the sands at Pass Christian 
 and studying mathematics by counting his toes. ’ ’ His 
 earliest youth was spent in the gay atmosphere of 
 Creole society, for his mother had many relations in 
 New Orleans. When he was about six years old his 
 mother removed for a time to Kentucky, and there 
 Burton Harrison had his first schooling. Of this 
 period he told with great gusto an anecdote of the 
 musical education to which for a brief period he was 
 subjected. Painfully he learned to thrum out on the 
 piano an opus known as “General Gaines’s March,” 
 which had been locally composed in honor of the con¬ 
 temporary military hero of the Southwest, General 
 Edmund Pendleton Gaines. It had the merit of 
 brevity, “four bars and repeat,” and on an occasion 
 was called for in the presence of Henry Clay. When 
 the notable performance had ended, and the boy stood 
 blushing beside his chair, he was rewarded with an 
 orphic remark by the Great Pacificator: “Ah! a be- 
 
 i His father gave him the name Norvell out of affection for his 
 brother-in-law and devoted friend, William W. Norvell of Lynchburg. 
 The combination of names was not without precedent. In the Henrico 
 records is to be found a Norvell Burton who in 1723 was deputy sheriff, 
 engaged in distraining on the goods of the Quakers. 
 
 C1443 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 ginner, I perceive.’’ It was a succes d’estime and 
 ended a musical career. 
 
 He was prepared for college in Maryland by his 
 uncle, the Bev. Dr. William Francis Brand, 1 then 
 rector of All Hallows Church on South Biver, in 
 Anne Arundel County. His mother had meanwhile 
 established her home at Oxford, Mississippi, the 
 seat of the State University, and at sixteen Burton 
 Harrison entered the University of Mississippi, at 
 which his kinsman, F. A. P. Barnard, afterward 
 president of Columbia College in New York, had 
 just been appointed professor of mathematics and 
 astronomy. There Burton Harrison spent the years 
 1854 and 1855, when, at the suggestion of Mr. Bar¬ 
 nard, who had himself been educated at New Haven, 
 he entered Yale College with the class of ’59. At 
 Yale, where many Southern men were then in attend- 
 
 i Parson Brand, as he was quite generally called by his friends, was 
 an unusual man. Born at New Orleans June 17, 1814, he was christened 
 a few days prior to the battle of New Orleans; General Andrew Jackson 
 was present at that ceremony, and Mr. Brand subsequently paid him a 
 visit in the White House. Educated at the University of Virginia and 
 in France, he practised in New Orleans successively as an architect and as 
 a lawyer, in the latter capacity assisting his brother-in-law, J. Burton 
 Harrison, in his compilation of the Louisiana Law Reports, as is acknow¬ 
 ledged in the preface of that work. After studying at the General 
 Theological Seminary in New York, he became a priest of the Episcopal 
 Church on March 3, 1844, and, while he held the cure at All Hallows, a 
 member of his wife’s family, the Halls of Maryland, built for him the 
 beautiful little St. Mary’s Church near Emmorton, in Harford County, 
 Maryland. Here he ministered for more than fifty years, having also a 
 school for boys at his place “Findowry, ” named for the nest of his 
 Scots forebears. While he came of a North Briton race, his blood had 
 been warmed in the South; he was Creole jusqu’au bout des ongles, 
 vivacious and emotional. A learned classical scholar, and an au¬ 
 thority upon ecclesiastical architecture, he died, a venerable and pic¬ 
 turesque figure, in his ninety-third year, on February 18, 1907. He had 
 been a father to Burton N. Harrison, celebrated his marriage and those 
 of two of his sons, and lived to christen a great-grandniece. 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ance, bis career was one of more than respectable 
 scholarship and of unusual leadership in every branch 
 of student activity. In his senior year he was presi¬ 
 dent of Linonia, an editor of the Yale Literary Maga¬ 
 zine, a member of Skull and Bones and of Phi Beta 
 Kappa, honors which tell their own story to those who 
 know Yale life. On the board of the Lit he was asso¬ 
 ciated with Thomas B. Lounsbury, afterward distin¬ 
 guished by his studies in orthography. Burton Har¬ 
 rison’s contributions to the Lit were mainly simple 
 sketches of student life; he had the good taste not to 
 venture into the realms of high philosophy and his¬ 
 tory which from time immemorial have lured the stu¬ 
 dent essayist. In the number for December, 1858, he 
 drew a picture of which every Yale man will recognize 
 the atmosphere. It is entitled “Under the Eaves.” 
 
 Among the conditions necessary to the thorough enjoy¬ 
 ment of college life, we reckon a ‘ ‘ den ’ ’ in the fourth story, 
 and an open stove. ... A feeling of relief is habitual to a 
 dweller under the eaves when he gains his room, a sense, as 
 it were, of having escaped from a close and stifling smoke. 
 . . . Nobody but your friends and the printer to the Wooden 
 Spoon Committee ever comes to the fourth story; and, pro¬ 
 vided you have settled your own dues to this latter function¬ 
 ary and do not rejoice in a chum who never ventures down 
 Chapel Street in daylight for fear of encountering him, you 
 may rest assured that every tap at your door is a friend’s 
 tap. That abominable practice of habitually keeping one’s 
 door locked from morning till night, and deliberately turn¬ 
 ing a deaf ear to every knocker, therefore, does not obtain in 
 the fourth story. There is no temptation in the first place; 
 and in the second place, none of your one-horse men, who 
 have so little of a gentleman’s and a classmate’s feeling as 
 to be willing to sit still and hear a disappointed visitor go 
 away without an invitation to walk in, ever get so high up in 
 the world. . . . Such a situation imparts a sense of power in 
 
 [146] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 the consciousness of your ability to indulge in noise to your 
 heart’s content without possibility of retaliation. Everything 
 too betokens a loftier grade of existence when you reach the 
 fourth story. No Tutors room there. And even cigar smoke 
 which floats in mazy clouds through the entry grows more 
 fragrant as you mount the stairs, till the aromatic odors 
 which greet the olfactories on the topmost flight waft the 
 imagination to that great and glorious section of our country 
 where tobacco is not all oak leaves. . . . Dwellers in the 
 fourth story invariably smoke good tobacco. . . . But 
 
 4 ‘ When the candles burn low, and the company ’s gone 
 In the silence of night, as I sit here alone,” 
 
 a peculiar charm invests the place: a sense of downright 
 comfort, of utter independence, of individuality, comes over 
 you. The droning, soothing hum of voices underneath is 
 the only sound without: every unpleasant feeling and all 
 unrest is lulled to sleep; and the monotonous ticking of the 
 clock makes music for the thoughts, which come trooping 
 rhythmically along, to find expression and embodiment in 
 fireside lyrics. Student feeling, that mysterious, indefinable 
 charm which pervades college life, and hangs a halo of golden 
 memories around the springtime of our youth, has then its 
 maximum development, sways us perfectly. And every man 
 who can look with pleasure in after life upon the four years 
 spent here, and has roomed in the fourth story, must feel 
 that such moments as these impart a warmth and glow to the 
 heart which can be got nowhere else than in college, and not 
 even there out of the fourth story. . . . 
 
 During the college years Burton Harrison spent his 
 summer vacations with his uncle in Maryland, and 
 thus it was that he introduced into the Cary house¬ 
 hold in Baltimore the Yale songs, notably his favorite, 
 “Lauriger Horatius,” to the stirring air of which, 
 thus made familiar, Miss Jennie Cary was later in¬ 
 spired to fit the words of Randall’s verses “Mary- 
 
 C147 3 
 
AEIS SONIS EOCISQUE 
 
 land! my Maryland!” and so start a memorable war- 
 song echoing down the ages. Being far from home, 
 Burton Harrison spent his shorter college vacations 
 with Northern classmates. He always held in par¬ 
 ticularly grateful and affectionate memory a joyous 
 Christmas at the house of the then Governor of Con¬ 
 necticut, Alexander H. Holley of Salisbury (Lake¬ 
 ville), where, with a group of merry school-girls and 
 fellow students, he tasted to the top of his bent and 
 with all the enthusiasm of novelty the vigorous winter 
 sports of skating and coasting. He took back to Mis¬ 
 sissippi with him a just appreciation of the New Eng¬ 
 land character, a wholesome specific against prejudice 
 in years to come. In April, 1860, he wrote from 
 Oxford to his classmate, Charles Ledyard Norton of 
 Farmington: 
 
 The genial courtesy and hearty hospitality with which I was 
 greeted at your charming home completely won my heart. 
 . . . When I attain the pinnacle of every young man’s ambi¬ 
 tion in the Mississippi Valley, and find myself upon the 
 stump, a nominee for office, the fervor with which I shall 
 plead for the Union and urge for the North a claim upon 
 the brotherly love of the South will be traceable in no slight 
 degree to the hospitalities of Farmington. 
 
 After graduating at Yale, Burton Harrison re¬ 
 turned to the University of Mississippi at the request 
 of Mr. Barnard, who had meanwhile become president 
 of that institution, and there was installed as assistant 
 professor of mathematics. He had no intention of 
 pursuing an academical career, but planned to qualify 
 himself for admission to the New Orleans bar, and of 
 course he had political achievement in prospect; he 
 got that in his blood. He began his law studies while 
 lecturing at the University of Mississippi and was so 
 
 CHS] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 engaged when the Confederate States seceded; but it 
 was not until Fort Donelson fell in February, 1862, 
 that he felt the call of a personal duty in the conflict 
 with the United States. His judgment was opposed to 
 the policy of secession, but the effect of the news of 
 Fort Donelson was electrical throughout the South¬ 
 west. Realizing that they were called upon to defend 
 their native States from invasion, the generous youth 
 of Mississippi and Louisiana flocked to the Confed¬ 
 erate standard. Burton Harrison was about to enlist 
 in the Washington Artillery, the crack corps of New 
 Orleans, and was preparing to go to the front for the 
 contest which was afterward known as the battle of 
 Shiloh, when, upon the suggestion of his friend, L. Q. 
 C. Lamar (who had preceded Burton Harrison as 
 assistant professor of mathematics at Oxford, Missis¬ 
 sippi, and was to return to the University of Missis¬ 
 sippi after the war), he was, without consultation, 
 summoned to Richmond to be private secretary to the 
 President of the Confederate States. He was then 
 twenty-three years of age, and he wrote to his mother, 
 stirred with the uncertainties of duty and ambition: 
 
 Oxford, Feb. 26, 1862. 
 
 Verily the turns of this life are sudden and strange. When 
 I wrote you last I was in the full expectation of entering the 
 army almost immediately; and only waited a letter from 
 Col. Lamar to determine whether to volunteer under him or 
 to seek admission to the Washington Artillery. Well, the 
 letter from Col. Lamar did n’t come; but a telegram did, 
 and in these words: 
 
 “You are Private Secretary to the President. Come on 
 at once. Wait for me at Chattanooga. I start to-morrow.” 
 
 Signed— L. Q. C. Lamar. 
 
 Now what do you think of that? I know very well the 
 motive, in addition to Col. Lamar’s friendship for me, which 
 
 [149] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 prompted him to secure the appointment. I told him last 
 summer I should join him in the army in Virginia as soon as 
 my conscience would allow me to do so consistently with the 
 duty I owed you and sister; he most strenuously urged me, 
 then, to abandon the idea, because he thought the country 
 did not so need me as to demand what he termed a breach of 
 obligation to my widowed mother. 
 
 Within the last few weeks, however, he has considered it 
 evident from the tone of my letters that I was fully deter¬ 
 mined to enter active service in the field, and so he has de¬ 
 liberately set himself to work to prevent my doing so, by 
 securing for me a position in civil life so tempting that both 
 inclination and duty would oblige me to fill it. Happening 
 to be in Richmond on the day of the Inauguration, this va¬ 
 cancy offered, and he prevailed on President Davis to give 
 me the promotion. 
 
 . . . There are fifty reasons why the place is, to a man of 
 my plans, tastes, and prospects, most delightful. . . . 
 
 The objection to accepting is simply a feeling that no 
 civil employment, however eminent, or merely pleasant or 
 useful to one’s self, should now keep an able-bodied man 
 from the battle-field. 
 
 If I accept, it will relieve you of the anxiety attending my 
 entering the army and may save my life to cherish your old 
 age. If I don’t accept, I shall join the army at once. . . . 
 
 I start to Chattanooga in the morning to meet Col. Lamar 
 and discuss the question. My mind is by no means made 
 up, . . . but I think God has opened the path before me. 
 
 He accepted the appointment and in that capacity 
 served his country until the evacuation of Richmond 
 in 1865. He was convinced that the position of the 
 Southern States, once irrevocably taken, was justified 
 by the constitutional history of the Union, and he be¬ 
 came intensely partizan. 
 
 His relations with the Chief, as he always termed 
 Mr. Davis, were intimate and cordial, both officially 
 
 H1503 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 and personally. In the delicate relation which he bore 
 to all the public men of the Confederacy, he acquitted 
 himself with credit and universal approval. He made 
 friends in all the political cliques at Richmond, and 
 Mr. Davis, who felt the weight of a growing unpopu¬ 
 larity as the war progressed, leaned upon him heavily. 
 He had great personal respect for Mr. Davis. Writ¬ 
 ing to his mother in June, 1866, he said: 
 
 I have sent you Dr. Craven’s book made up of his notes 
 while he was surgeon to the Chief in Fortress Monroe. His 
 facts are not very accurate and his conversations are all 
 cooked up by the editor. Had Dr. Craven complied with his 
 promise to submit his manuscript to me, I could have made 
 it much better history for him, and had he been content to 
 report the Chief’s talk as he heard it, the book would have 
 been much more striking. The Chief has wonderful variety 
 and accuracy of knowledge and great vigor and grace of ex¬ 
 pression. His ordinary conversation is much more attractive 
 than the Surgeon’s best pages will ever be, and when he grows 
 eloquent on themes of personal adventure, science, natural 
 history and the whole range of political philosophy, as I have 
 heard him many and many a time when we two were in the 
 saddle together on long rides, he has few equals in the art of 
 discourse. 
 
 Twice he resigned in order to enlist in the army, 
 as, with the progress of the war, he felt it his personal 
 duty to do; but the President would not let him go 
 and finally brought him under duress to live under the 
 Presidential roof of the “Gray House”—“to keep 
 you from running away, ’ ’ said Mr. Davis. But on the 
 President’s staff he was several times under fire. 
 Only a few of his letters from Richmond survive; 
 from them are taken the following stories of two 
 occasions in 1864 when Mr. Davis nearly fell into the 
 hands of the enemy, and on the latter occasion General 
 
 ni5in 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Lee was with him and was responsible for the predica¬ 
 ment. 
 
 Richmond, Aug. 17, 1864, 10:30 p.m. 
 
 I was occupied all the morning and at 2:30 p.m. I unex¬ 
 pectedly discovered that the Chief was about to ride down 
 to the lines and that I was the only one of his staff to accom¬ 
 pany him. So we went home for lunch and then set out, 
 with the Post Master General for escort. 
 
 A battle was fought along our lines yesterday from Chaf¬ 
 fin’s Bluff (on the North side of the James River) eastwardly 
 towards the Chickahominy. The enemy made repeated and 
 determined assaults, and at one place broke thro’ our lines 
 & occupied a part of the works. The troops who accomplished 
 this were whites, but when our fellows got ready to drive 
 them out, they found a part of the space held by negroes. 
 At them they went, routing the rascals everywhere and 
 slaughtering the negroes in every direction. At night our 
 people held their original positions but with the loss of two 
 valuable General officers, Chambliss & Girardey. 
 
 This afternoon we found that region presenting the usual 
 appearance of a battle ground. Maj. Gen’l. Field was com¬ 
 municating with the enemy under a flag of truce, exchanging 
 the wounded and burying the dead, among the latter his own 
 brother-in-law, of whose gallant death he told us with tears 
 and much emotion. 
 
 We met a column of prisoners, about 300, marching into 
 town, guarded by scarcely a dozen men. 
 
 Gen’l. Field gave us, as guide to Gen’l. Lee’s headquarters, 
 a member of his staff, known to fame as Capt. Corbin, a re¬ 
 cent arrival from France, being the son of a wealthy Virginian 
 who has lived almost all his life in Paris. The Captain said 
 he knew the road perfectly & illustrated the fact by getting 
 us terribly tangled up in the woods, in the first place, and 
 then leading us thro’ our line of battle straight towards the 
 Yankee pickets, who were a very short distance down the 
 road, & from whom we were only saved by the shouting of 
 our own soldiers who had watched our progress with wonder 
 
 C152] 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 & who came running over the hill to warn us of the danger. 
 Of course, we turned about at once, and when we got to our 
 line we had the satisfaction of learning that our fellows had 
 been so puzzled by our proceedings & so convinced by Cor¬ 
 bin’s blue pantaloons & cap that he was a Yankee, that some 
 of them were consulting as to the propriety of firing on us 
 from the rear. Nice fix to be in, was n’t it? And we w r ere 
 a few moments afterwards helped to a realization of what 
 might have befallen us, by ascertaining that Gen’l. Chambliss 
 had been a victim of the same kind of trap yesterday. He 
 rode through his lines until the Yankees challenged him, 
 then turned to run his horse & was shot dead. 
 
 Gen’l. Gregg kindly furnished another guide who knew 
 the roads better & we soon made our way safely to Gen’l. 
 Lee’s headquarters, where the two great Chiefs held high 
 council to their own entertainment & satisfaction. 
 
 At 11 o’clock we got back home after riding something 
 over 20 miles & accomplishing weariness enough to ensure 
 profoundest slumber. 
 
 October 1864. 
 
 Genl. R. E. Lee had come into town to church and went 
 to an early dinner with the Chief. We set out for the lines 
 at half past two; rode down in a cloud of dust to the extreme 
 left of our line, which extends for more than 20 miles, I 
 should think, and ends on the Weldon Railroad near Peters¬ 
 burg. 
 
 The General had discoursed about army matters, explained 
 the progress of the working parties on the lines which we 
 rode through, indicated the service to which he intended 
 putting his men and his spades for the next week and set 
 forth his views as to the purposes of the enemy, etc., until 
 we had ridden through our own line of battle. Now, the 
 Chief never talks gossip, but Genl. Lee delights in hearing 
 all the on dits of society and finds a relish in the little scan¬ 
 dals of the town, so he got somehow upon the absurdities of 
 a young man in love, and said: 
 
 “There is Capt. Shannon, of Genl. R. H. Anderson’s staff. 
 
 ci53: 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 He thinks he is very much in love with a handsome young 
 lady who came over to visit Petersburg recently; Miss Giles, 
 I think, who had the purpose, it was said, of marrying an¬ 
 other Confederate officer, but changed her mind.” 
 
 Quoth I, “Well, General, it is to be hoped that Capt. 
 Shannon does not mistake his feeling for her, as she tells the 
 whole town that she is to marry him soon.” “Ah, I did n’t 
 know it has gone as far as that; but not long ago he went up 
 to town on leave and overstaid his time. Everybody knew 
 what was keeping him and understood his state of mind. So 
 Genl. Anderson sent him orders not to come back to his head¬ 
 quarters, but to go at once to a lunatic asylum and to insist 
 upon instant admission.” 
 
 Said I, “I trust, sir, that the General was considerate 
 enough to take care that the young lady should be his keeper, 
 as it was on her account that the victim got into such a fix. ’ ’ 
 “Well, sir, I don’t know about that, but,” etc., etc., and he 
 went on chatting and laughing with great enjoyment of the 
 topic, the Chief all the while riding doggedly along, smiling 
 with amusement at the General, but never saying a word. 
 Presently we saw two men on horseback in the solitary woods 
 with carbines cocked and ready for action, and gaze fixed 
 intently on a turn of the road just ahead of them. We very 
 soon found that while the General was relishing his laugh at 
 the lovelorn youth, he had led us not only through our own 
 line of battle, but past our pickets and upon the extreme 
 vidette station where the two mounted men were eagerly 
 watching to see the Yankee who was on the same duty around 
 the turn of the road trying to catch sight of them; and then 
 it was vastly entertaining to see the General’s astonishment 
 and his pique at the thought that we should see that he was 
 not perfectly acquainted w r ith the ground and the disposition 
 of his troops. He insisted for some time that we had not 
 ridden through the outer pickets and that the two men could 
 not be the vidette they thought themselves. When it ap¬ 
 peared he must give up on that tack, he turned to the Chief 
 with, “Well, Mr. President, the fact is I relied more on your 
 knowledge of the country than on my own.” But the Chief 
 
 C154] 
 
BUETON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 had no notion of assuming the responsibility for the situa¬ 
 tion and said laughingly, “Oh, my dear sir, I recognized the 
 last line of works we passed as the exterior line of 1862, but 
 I thought you had thrown up another further down to which 
 you were conducting us.” And so it was we had very nearly 
 made a prize for Genl. Grant, and I believe I was the only 
 member of the party who thoroughly enjoyed every body 
 else’s alternate discomfort and amusement. As we rode back 
 to the line the pickets jeered at our courier, who was riding 
 behind, with, “Eh, courier, the General went a little further 
 than he intended, did n’t he?” 
 
 In the refugee society of Richmond, Burton Harri¬ 
 son was a debonair figure. Richmond was then a true 
 capital. As well through stress of circumstance as 
 because of the necessities of public business, the elite 
 of an entire people was there gathered, and cheerfully 
 took zest in a life of privation punctuated by dramatic 
 and tragic events. It has been well said that the world 
 has seldom seen a congregation of men and women 
 better bred or actuated by a higher chivalry. In his 
 story of “The End of an Era,” John S. Wise de¬ 
 scribes the ball given in Richmond in 1863 to celebrate 
 the marriage of Colonel William B. Tabb and Miss 
 Emily Rutherford, and with a somewhat caustic pen 
 portrays what he calls the “White House Circle”: 
 
 Who were there? Everybody that was anybody. There 
 was Mr. President Davis: he was assuredly a very clean¬ 
 looking man: his manners were those of a dignified, gracious 
 gentleman accustomed to good society. He claimed his trib¬ 
 ute kiss from the bride, and well he might, for seldom had 
 he culled one more sweet and pure. From the blushing girl 
 he turned with a gracious compliment to her husband: ‘ ‘ For 
 a bride like that, Colonel, you may demand a week’s exten¬ 
 sion of your leave.” Tabb, with his hazel eyes, his red- 
 brown hair and beard, and two brilliant hectic spots glowing 
 
 [ 155 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 upon his cheeks, towered above him, smiling, bowing and 
 supremely happy. Mr. Davis looked thin and careworn. 
 Naturally refined in his appearance, his hair and beard were 
 bleaching rapidly, and his bloodless cheeks and slender nose, 
 with its clear-cut, flat nostril, gave him almost the appear¬ 
 ance of emaciation. Yet his eye was bright, his smile was 
 winning and manner most attractive. When he chose to 
 be deferential and kindly, no man could excel him. When 
 strongly moved, few men of his day surpassed him in elo¬ 
 quence. On occasion he could touch the popular heart with 
 a master hand. On his arm was Mrs. Davis, his very oppo¬ 
 site in physique, looking as if, to use an old expression, ‘ ‘ the 
 gray mare was the better horse.” Physically, she was large 
 and looked well fed. Among us “irreverents” it was believed 
 that Mrs. Davis possessed great influence over her husband, 
 even to the point that she could secure promotion for us, if 
 she liked. She was intensely loyal to him, took no pains to 
 conceal her pride in him, and was, perhaps, a trifle quick to 
 show resentment towards those not as enthusiastic as she 
 thought they should be in their estimate of his abilities. She 
 had, among those who knew her best, warm, enthusiastic 
 friends. Close upon these came young Burton Harrison, the 
 President’s private secretary, looking like a fashion-plate in 
 his perfect outfit. Harrison was popular and everybody 
 had some cordial inquiry as to how he maintained such 
 an immaculate wardrobe, when all the world besides was in 
 rags. 1 Speaking a gracious word here and there as he passed 
 on, he soon joined willowy Constance Cary for a waltz. 
 
 i Burton Harrison was himself very conscious of the glory of his 
 clothes at this time. He wrote to his mother that by causing his servant 
 to sell all his old clothes and boots he had got together enough money 
 to get one new suit which “cost dollars enough to have served for a 
 year’s support to a small family in ordinary times.” He had himself 
 photographed at full length, saying to his mother: “Everybody has a 
 head, you know, but it is n’t every fellow who has a dark blue suit. ’ ’ 
 In 1863 gold sold in Eiehmond at twenty-five for one. In March, 1864, 
 Burton Harrison had $100 in gold to send to his mother. He converted 
 half of it into $3000 in treasury notes, because he was advised they 
 were still available at Oxford. This was sixty for one. 
 
 [156] 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 When Breckinridge, Secretary of War, strode up, he 
 brought the perfume of Kentucky Bourbon with him. As 
 he and Tabb stood side by side, one thought of the wide- 
 spreading forest oak topping up beside the slender pine. 
 There was the frankness of the soldier, the breadth of the 
 statesman, the heartiness and courtesy to woman, of the 
 Southern man of the world in his every look and word. 
 
 The oleaginous Benjamin, Secretary of State, next glided 
 in, his keg-like form and over-deferential manner suggestive 
 of a prosperous shopkeeper. But his eye redeemed him, 
 and his speech was elegantly polished, even if his nose was 
 hooked and his thick lips shone red amidst the curly black of 
 his Semitic beard. Tabb, looking down upon him, suggested 
 a high-bred greyhound condescending towards a very clever 
 Pug- 
 
 Then bluff old Secretary Mallory of the Navy came, with 
 no studied speech, but manly, frank and kind, one of the 
 most popular members of the Confederate Cabinet. After 
 him, Postmaster-General Reagan, of Texas, a large plain¬ 
 looking citizen, of more than ordinary common sense, but ill 
 at ease in gatherings like this, and looking as if he might 
 have left his carry log and yoke of oxen at the door. 
 
 And so it went. There was Olivero Andrews, the most 
 insinuating beau of the Capital: and Cooper de Leon, the 
 poet, wit and wag: and John M. Daniel, the vitriolic editor 
 of the Examiner, whose mission seemed to be to torture the 
 administration with the criticism of his scathing pen: and 
 Willie Myers, soldier, dandy, dilettante artist and exquisite: 
 and the pompous fellow blazoned with gilt and bearded like 
 a pard, derisively called “the Count,” who was best known 
 for his constant absence from the front without leave when 
 his command was engaged: and Baron Ileros von Borcke, a 
 giant German who had come to fight as a volunteer upon Jeb 
 Stuart’s staff. 0! Vanity Fair of the dead Confederacy! 
 How your actors troop before me once again! 
 
 This society was gay—more than naturally so, per¬ 
 haps, because of the necessity upon every one to keep 
 
 [ 157 ] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 up a brave front. Amateur theatricals were re¬ 
 hearsed with appetites uncloyed by exhibitions of pro¬ 
 fessional perfection; the diaries of the period are as 
 full of them as of the more important concerns of life. 
 For example, Mrs. Clay of Alabama, in her charming 
 story of “A Belle of the Fifties,” says: 
 
 I recall the great amateur performance of “The Rivals,” 
 which made that first winter in Richmond memorable and 
 our hostess, Mrs. Ives, famous. In that performance Con¬ 
 stance Cary, a beauty of the Fairfax family, captured all 
 hearts as the languishing Lydia, among them, that of our 
 President’s Secretary, Colonel Burton Harrison, whose wife 
 she afterward became. 
 
 Writing of another party, that given in the spring 
 of 1864 by Mrs. Thomas Joseph Semmes, the beauti¬ 
 ful wife of the Senator from Louisiana and leader of 
 the New Orleans bar, Mrs. Chesnut of South Carolina 
 records in her always lively “Diary from Dixie”: 
 
 Burton Harrison, the President’s handsome young secre¬ 
 tary, was gotten up as a big brave in a dress presented to 
 Mr. Davis by Indians for some kindness he showed them 
 years ago. It was a complete warrior’s outfit, scant as that 
 is. The feathers, stuck in the back of Mr. Harrison’s head, 
 had a charmingly comic effect. He had to shave himself as 
 clean as a baby or he could not act the beardless Chief, 
 Spotted Tail, Billy Bowlegs, Big Thunder, or whatever his 
 character was. So he folded up his loved and lost mustache, 
 the Christianized red Indian, and laid it on the altar, the 
 most sacred treasure of his life, the witness of his most heroic 
 sacrifice to art. 
 
 Of the same party, Cooper de Leon tells the story 
 of a charade in bis “Belles, Beaux and Brains of the 
 Sixties”: 
 
 £ 1581 ] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 A wedding in the halls of Lammermoor to sign the bridal 
 contract, was the first syllable of the next word. “Lucy 
 Ashton,” represented by Miss Lelia Powers, holds the pen 
 only to dash it down on the appearance of the “Master 
 of Ravenswood” (Captain Sam Shannon of Carolina). 
 “Henry,” her irate brother (Page McCarty), rushes on the 
 intruder with drawn sword, only restrained by the “Priest” 
 (W. D. Washington) and the “Laird of Bucklaw” (James 
 Denegre). The scene was effective in pantomime and cos¬ 
 tume. 
 
 In the second syllable, an older and happier courtship 
 showed: Mrs. Semmes, magnificently dressed as ‘ ‘ Rebecca, ’ ’ 
 stood by the well and heard the tender words of “Isaac” 
 proxied by Eleazar (Burton Norvell Harrison, secretary to 
 Mr. Davis). The pair were admirable in their pantomime, and 
 the hostess radiant in the Eastern silks and gems, in which 
 she later received her guests. 
 
 In the final scene of that final word, this writer once more 
 * disported his congenial chains in a cell of Bridewell Prison, 
 and doubtless all present thought his acting well merited 
 the situation. 
 
 The romance of which Mrs. Clay noted the begin¬ 
 ning progressed, like many another, with interrup¬ 
 tions. On January 16, 1865, Mrs. Chesnut notes in 
 her “Diary”: 
 
 A visit from the President’s handsome and accomplished 
 secretary, Burton Harrison. I lent him “Country Clergy¬ 
 man in Town” and “Elective Affinities.” He is to bring me 
 Mrs. Norton’s “Lost and Saved.” General Jeb Stuart was 
 at Mrs. Randolph’s in his cavalry jacket and high boots. He 
 was devoted to Hetty Cary. Constance Cary said to me, 
 pointing to his stars: “Hetty likes them that way, you know, 
 gilt-edged and with stars.” 
 
 And then, as if by some association of ideas, Mrs. 
 Chesnut goes on: 
 
 [ 159 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 At Mrs. Randolph’s my husband complimented one of the 
 ladies who had amply earned his praise by her singing. She 
 pointed to a young man, saying: “You see that wretch: he 
 has not said one word to me!” My husband asked inno¬ 
 cently: “Why should he, and why is he a wretch?” “Oh, 
 you know!” Going home, I explained this riddle to him: 
 he is always a year behindhand in gossip. ‘ ‘ They said those 
 two were engaged last winter, and now there seems to be a 
 screw loose; but that sort of thing always comes right. ’ ’ 
 
 Perhaps it was the following set of verses which 
 brought “that sort of thing” right on the February 14 
 following. They have survived from that period, and, 
 when shown to their author in later years, he asserted 
 that they did equal credit to his head and his heart. 
 
 HER VALENTINE 
 
 This merry maiden, radiant, rare, 
 
 With winsome ways and debonair, 
 
 When sweet she smiles on me, I swear 
 That Eden’s light is resting there 
 Upon those lips so ripe, so fair! 
 
 To look upon her face, old Care 
 Would cease to carp and court Despair; 
 
 Would give up dole, his trade forswear, 
 
 Don sunny looks, make Joy his heir; 
 
 What wonder then that I should dare 
 Her praise to sing, her colors wear, 
 
 Her valentine myself declare ? 
 
 This merry maiden, radiant, rare. 
 
 Burton Harrison’s part in the events following the 
 debacle of the Confederacy is told in his story of the 
 “Capture of Jefferson Davis,” which, though written 
 solely for the entertainment of his children, he per¬ 
 mitted, at the earnest and iterated request of Mr. 
 
 Cieon 
 
BUETON NOEYELL HAEEISON OF NEW YOEK 
 
 Richard Watson Gilder, to be published in the Cen¬ 
 tury Magazine for November, 1883. His charm as a 
 raconteur, his keen sense of humor, and his political 
 sagacity combined to make Burton Harrison’s remi¬ 
 niscences of the Confederacy of value; but, character¬ 
 istically, he disdained to make literary capital out of 
 the woes of his fatherland, to boast, like HEneas: 
 
 quaeque ipse miserrima vidi, 
 
 Et quorum pars magna fui, 
 
 for such was his personal chagrin and mortification at 
 the blighting of the government to whose service he 
 had in his youth brought high hope and enthusiasm, 
 that he could never be induced to record more of 
 his recollections of that crucial period than are con¬ 
 tained in this memoir of one among many dramatic 
 incidents of his life. 
 
 He was made prisoner with the President and his 
 family near Irwinville, Georgia, on May 10, 1865. 
 So far as Burton Harrison was personally concerned, 
 he might have accomplished an escape, but he pre¬ 
 ferred to make a gallant, if unnecessary, sacrifice to 
 loyalty. In his “Rise and Fall of the Confederate 
 Government,” Vol. II, p. 704, Mr. Davis says: 
 
 My private secretary, Burton N. Harrison, had refused to 
 be left behind, and though they would not allow him to go in 
 the carriage with me, he was resolved to follow my fortunes, 
 as well from sentiment, as the hope of being useful. His 
 fidelity was rewarded by a long and rigorous imprisonment. 
 
 Mr. Davis was taken to Fortress Monroe, there to re¬ 
 main a prisoner for the following two years. Burton 
 Harrison was haled to Washington and lodged tem¬ 
 porarily in the old Capitol Prison, which stood on the 
 
 C 161 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 present site of the spacious Library of Congress; al¬ 
 most immediately he was incarcerated in the Naval 
 Penitentiary at the Arsenal, which stood on the site 
 of the existing War College. His painful and humil¬ 
 iating adventures in that filthy monument to vulgar 
 crime have been related with stirring sympathy by 
 his wife: 
 
 The experience of Burton Harrison as a prisoner of war 
 was detailed to me by him in 1904, to refresh my memory, 
 during his last illness at our temporary home in Washington, 
 where we had gone to pass the winter near our sons. While 
 there was never any bitterness about it in his speech or in 
 his manly soul, I could not, even after that lapse of years, 
 hear the recital without a pang of deep pain for what he had 
 needlessly suffered. 
 
 Whilst between him and the friends he had left in Rich¬ 
 mond a black veil of silence and sickening uncertainty as to 
 his ultimate fate had fallen, he had been confined at first in a 
 room of the old Capitol Prison. A few days later he was 
 taken by a detective from this place, and conducted to a room 
 in the same building, under pretext of being introduced to 
 a Confederate “lady” he might “like to know.” Feeling 
 instinctively that mischief threatened, he had no difficulty 
 in keeping himself in check when in the presence of an “ old 
 untidy woman with a shifty eye,” afterward identified as a 
 spy for both sides, who, with every assurance of cordiality 
 for the South, sought to lead him into conversation about Mr. 
 Davis and Confederate matters in general. She did not name 
 the young girl suffering from a bad headache, who, standing 
 by, deadly pale, with a white bandage around her brow, struck 
 him as resembling some face on a Roman coin. In honeyed 
 tones the spy woman sought to induce both of them to join 
 in her strictures against the government and expression of 
 sympathy for the conspirators. In a flash he divined the 
 poor girl had been brought there for the same purpose as 
 himself. It was designed that they should talk unguardedly 
 in the presence of authority. It was not until the interview, 
 
 ri62 3 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 futile as to results, was over, that he chanced to hear the 
 detective call the young woman “Miss Surratt.” He came 
 away from this hateful interview feeling he had escaped a 
 trap. After the disgust of it, his prison with the rough 
 jailers seemed a welcome haven. 
 
 Next day all the rebel prisoners at the old Capitol were 
 allowed to crowd to the barred windows to witness Sherman’s 
 imperial progress of return to Washington. To eyes long 
 used to faded gray and rusty accoutrements, the vast array 
 of blazing sheen and color seemed oppressive. But all the 
 same, he said the Johnny Rebs enjoyed the show hugely, 
 not begrudging professional praise to military details and 
 ensemble. 
 
 Turning away from his window, he felt a touch upon his 
 shoulder from a detective he had not seen before, who curtly 
 told him he was to go to “another place.” His prison com¬ 
 rades, surrounding him with handshakes and kind words, 
 watched him depart sadly. The rumor had got abroad that 
 Jefferson Davis’s secretary and confidential friend was to be 
 dealt with to the full rigor of the law. 
 
 A drive in an ambulance—in war-time serving for all pur¬ 
 poses of transfer—brought him to the United States Arsenal, 
 situated upon a peninsula running out from the marshy bor¬ 
 ders of the eastern end of the Potomac, now the site of the 
 War College of future ages. It then contained, close to the 
 water’s edge, a group of brick buildings amid level military 
 plazas, banked with pyramids of shells and balls, surrounded 
 by cannon, their carriages and caissons. Behind a high wall 
 towered conspicuously a somber building with barred and 
 grated windows. Old Washington knew this as a district 
 penitentiary. It was now transformed into a military and 
 political prison, where in the inner cells were confined the 
 prisoners implicated in the murder of President Lincoln. 
 In the upper story was sitting a military commission whose 
 proceedings filled the world with awesome interest. 
 
 On every one of these piping days of early summer the 
 conspirators were brought out in irons through a massive 
 nail-studded door communicating with the cells, and placed 
 
 nies] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 in a line punctuated with armed guards, to sit in the court¬ 
 room facing their judges and a mixed audience, till at the 
 end of the day’s session they were returned to their dun¬ 
 geons. 
 
 The ambulance containing the new prisoner and his guard 
 was several times put out of line before the Arsenal door by 
 carriage-loads of fine people, the women dressed as for a 
 race day. One after the other of these gay parties passed in, 
 laughing and chatting under a grim wall atop of which pa¬ 
 trols, ten feet apart, kept always on the lookout. It had be¬ 
 come a modish thing for society to drop in for a peep at the 
 conspirators’ trial. Passes, limited to the capacity of the 
 court-room, were in demand like opera tickets to a special 
 performance. 
 
 The prisoner’s last glimpse for many a day of the outer 
 world was of a broad, dusty avenue with shabby fringes of 
 negro cabins and booths leading up to the entrance gate, that 
 looked like a country fair. Cattle with lolling tongues were 
 there, disgruntled pigs, and mangy dogs getting in the way 
 of marching soldiers and fashionable vehicles. To the left 
 he saw a military encampment filling a sun-baked plain, 
 where under shelter tents soldiers off duty lounged, dozed, 
 played cards, or tossed quoits. In the background of the 
 prison two gunboats kept unceasing watch upon the river 
 front. 
 
 The prisoner was hurried through the door, marched up 
 two flights of steps, and, without warning, ushered before the 
 gaze of the crowded court-room, gaping for new sensations, 
 there to stand awaiting the provost-marshal-general, to whom 
 he was consigned. 
 
 Without moving, he faced their gaze, his lips set, hot anger 
 coursing through his veins. Spite of his sense of unnecessary 
 degradation, he noted and remembered well the make-up of 
 the scene—Judge-Advocate-General Holt presiding, his swart 
 cold face boding ill for a prisoner falling under his displea¬ 
 sure; his assistants, the judges of the Military Commission, 
 unfortunately for themselves appointed to conduct this trial; 
 the reporters of the Commission; the large, whispering, smil- 
 
 C1643 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 ing audience, and the accused, seven men and one woman 
 shackled together, almost inevitably doomed to death. 
 
 When relieved from his unpleasant position by the arrival 
 of the functionary who was to take official possession of his 
 body, he was again led out of the court-room, through a 
 jostling, vulgar crowd, affecting to shrink away on either 
 side of him as if from a monster ill-secured. The general, 
 having annexed a formidable key, led the way, the prisoner 
 followed, the guard brought up the rear, a band of vagabond 
 loungers shuffling after them until turned back at the en¬ 
 trance of a ponderous grated door. 
 
 Life stood still for him a long time thereafter, while he 
 alternately lay or sat upon a blanket on the cemented floor 
 of a felon’s cell, four feet by eight, in daytime dark as night. 
 During five long weeks he was forbidden speech with any one 
 whomsoever. But in these days and nights, while he threw 
 himself down upon the blanket, or else walked, or used 
 gymnastic exercises to stretch his muscles and save his reason, 
 he might have said what a virile poet wrote long afterward: 
 
 “I am the master of my fate, 
 
 I am the captain of my soul.” 
 
 He said what he minded most was the eye of a bayoneted sol¬ 
 dier perpetually looking through the grating in his door. 
 
 Of whatever his enemies might have accused him, it was 
 not a failure in stoic endurance of his lot. One of his jailers 
 at Fort Delaware told me afterward that, of the many thou¬ 
 sands they had held, no Confederate prisoner had borne him¬ 
 self with higher courage and cooler pluck. But that experi¬ 
 ence of the dark cell came near to permanent weakening of 
 his strong physique. When they heard him singing and 
 laughing to himself one day, the guards made haste to sum¬ 
 mon surgeon and provost-marshal, believing he had gone 
 mad. 
 
 The surgeon finding his prisoner a wreck in physical 
 strength, the matter was reported to the War Department, 
 after which he was given leave to take daily exercise in the 
 prison yard below. From this glimpse of the world of the 
 
 C 165 ] 
 
APIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 living, such as it was, the return to solitary darkness became 
 more and more exhausting to nerve and body. His good 
 doctor again reporting his condition, he was then transferred 
 to a cell facing in the direction of the Capitol, through which 
 plentiful summer sunlight sifted in, and he could see afar 
 the glitter of the golden dome. A chair allowed him, his 
 next demand was for a copy of Horace or Tennyson, for 
 which the doctor substituted Louis Napoleon’s “Life of 
 Ctesar, ’ ’ with a promise of more literature to follow. 
 
 Under these changed conditions the prisoner’s health im¬ 
 proved daily. Although no one spoke to him of daily hap¬ 
 penings, his intuition kept him actually abreast of the grim 
 tragedy enacting under the roof that sheltered him. He said 
 he felt like a savage trained to notice the dropping of a nut, 
 or the crackle of a twig. Of the unhappy beings on trial he 
 knew nothing, nor had he any sentimental desire that they 
 should escape justice. Once, walking in the prison yard, he 
 had seen at a window the wan face of the girl met in the 
 spy’s company at the old Capitol—now, he said, the most 
 crushed and sorrow-stricken creature that ever met his gaze. 
 
 In the yard also he once picked up and secreted a bit of 
 greasy newspaper blown from some sentry’s lunch. Prom 
 this he saw that the conspirators were hastening to their 
 doom. 1 
 
 When, one day, the guards failed to come for him to walk, 
 and from the yard below arose a great clamor of saws and 
 hammering, he surmised what was to be. Every night before, 
 he had heard coming up through the ventilating-tube the 
 melancholy whistling of an occupant of the cell beneath his, 
 evidently absent in the day; for which sound he had learned 
 
 1 Mr. Harrison said that this scrap from a Philadelphia newspaper 
 happened to contain an account of the preparations of the government 
 to prosecute him, with the announcement that such prosecution was cer¬ 
 tain. From that moment his spirits rose, and he became gay, noticeably 
 so to his jailers, who commented on it. The psychological change had 
 been wrought by the passage from doubt to certainty. He used to say 
 that uncertainty was what men found hard to bear; certainty, even of 
 the worst, was a relief. 
 
 C 166 ] 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 to listen with an odd sense of companionship. That evening 
 the whistle began, but was halted suddenly; and the listener 
 knew the effort was beyond the power of a condemned man 
 probably on the eve of execution. 
 
 That night also he heard a new sound—a ship’s bell strik¬ 
 ing the watches, close by. 
 
 “Some of them are to be transported, and that boat is 
 here to take them off, ’ ’ flashed through his mind. 
 
 At dawn he turned in his blanket, wakened by the noise of 
 renewed hammering. From his window he could see many 
 troops massing in Pennsylvania Avenue, and amid them, rid¬ 
 ing alone, the Catholic priest, Father Walter, the intrepid 
 soldier of Christ (who, because of his belief in the innocence 
 of one of the condemned, was forbidden to go with her to 
 the scaffold), coming to shrive departing souls. 
 
 The officer detailed as usual to watch him at his breakfast, 
 generally so genial, to-day avoided meeting the prisoner’s 
 eye, as did the soldier always holding a musket before his 
 door. He asked no questions, ate his food, and sat afterward 
 for hours without stirring from his chair. 
 
 From thenceforward every sound in the prison came un¬ 
 naturally distinct. On all sides he heard the incessant tramp 
 of gathering soldiers. On the roof facing the Arsenal he saw 
 gazers assembled, and could not look at them. 
 
 Then he heard cell doors opening below, and their occu¬ 
 pants led out into the corridor; heard the sobbing of an¬ 
 guished women whose feet kept hurried pace a little while 
 with the others, then turned back heavily. 
 
 And lastly a hush, an awful calm, while the lives of a 
 woman and three men were taken from them upon the 
 scaffold. 
 
 At his usual hour that evening, the guards came to lead him 
 out for exercise. Stepping from the prison door upon the 
 pavement of the courtyard, he saw the scaffold looming black 
 at the end of the path his own feet had made in the weedy 
 grass, called by the soldiers “Harrison’s beat.” And there, 
 lying across the path, were four new-made graves—“like 
 
 C 167 U 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 beads upon a string,” he said over and over to himself, ‘‘like 
 beads upon a string. ’ ’ 
 
 The guards and bystanders, watching curiously for evi¬ 
 dence of his emotion, were not gratified. Giving no sign, he 
 began making for himself a new path parallel with the former 
 one. 
 
 That night he heard the sound of a faint, tremulous, de¬ 
 jected whistle coming up the ventilating-tube, and actually 
 laughed aloud, so glad he was to think the poor devil had not 
 been hanged. When the ship’s bells ceased to strike he was 
 sure it had carried his whistling friend away! 
 
 All these things were told to and written down by me a 
 short time before my husband’s death in 1904, calmly, with¬ 
 out resentment or animus of any kind. He also said that the 
 officer, a Dane from Michigan, who shortly after this trans¬ 
 ferred him to Fort Delaware, told him during the journey 
 that he had been in personal charge of Mrs. Surratt in 
 prison, had put the black cap over her head and the rope 
 around her neck, launching her into eternity. He said he 
 believed Mrs. Surratt had nothing to do with the plot to 
 kill Lincoln—that she was party to a scheme to capture him 
 only, and that she died an innocent woman. 1 
 
 This officer also told Mr. Harrison that, before sentence of 
 death was passed upon Mrs. Surratt, her daughter had tried 
 continually, but in vain, to gain access to her cell. After 
 she was condemned the girl was allowed to meet her mother. 
 The custodian was present at the interview and said he never 
 saw such an exhibition of character. As the girl came into 
 the cell, she could not stand, but fell upon the floor, creeping 
 over it, weeping bitterly, till she reached her mother’s feet 
 and kissed them, with a thousand loving, imploring words of 
 tenderness. The mother remaining cold as a stone, his heart 
 filled with wrath against her hardness to her child, but when 
 Miss Surratt finally went out of the cell, the woman broke 
 
 i General Butler charged Judge Bingham in the House of Representa¬ 
 tives with having hanged an innocent woman. 
 
 C 168 ] 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 down in such an awful passion of tears as he prayed he 
 might never see again, melting him utterly into sympathy 
 with her. 
 
 Burton Harrison was personally on good terms with his 
 jailers. While being conducted to Fort Delaware, in charge 
 of an officer with two guards, they were halted in the station 
 at Philadelphia because of the failure of a carriage expected 
 to take them to the boat-wharf. In some perplexity the 
 major said he would go himself and look for it, “And in the 
 meantime, colonel,” he added seriously, “will you have an 
 eye upon these fellows of mine, and see that they don’t leave 
 you ?’ ’ 
 
 With General Hartranft also, the provost-marshal who 
 had locked him in the black cell at the Arsenal and came 
 every day with the surgeon to see if the prisoner kept his 
 health and sanity, Mr. Harrison had kind relations. 
 
 In after years, when, as counsel for the Western Union 
 Telegraph Company, my husband went to conduct some busi¬ 
 ness for them at Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, he found the 
 official he had to consult professionally was none other than 
 this former jailer, now Auditor-General (afterward Gover¬ 
 nor) of Pennsylvania. When my husband came down-stairs 
 in the morning at the Lochiel Hotel and saw Hartranft wait¬ 
 ing for him in the hall, he threw up his hands, exclaiming: 
 “My God, general, you are not after me again?” 
 
 They shook hands, and the general answered: “ I tell you, 
 Harrison, you have n’t a better friend than I am in the 
 world. Come to breakfast, and after we’ve finished business, 
 we ’ll spend the day together.” 
 
 After hearing these stories told again in Washington in 
 1904, I desired to drive with my husband to the scene of his 
 old ordeal, where the present War College buildings were 
 then going up, on the site of the old prison of the Arsenal. 
 
 Sitting in an open victoria, he directed the coachman as 
 well as he could where to go, but became soon confused about 
 localities in the altered aspect of the place. We pulled up, 
 and I addressed the “boss” of a gang of workmen, asking 
 if he could tell me where we were. 
 
 L 169 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 “Why, ma’am, don’t you know?” he answered. “This is 
 the place where the scaffold stood on which Mrs. Surratt and 
 the other conspirators were hanged.” 
 
 My husband made no comment, nor did I, and silently we 
 drove homeward. 
 
 At the end of July the rigors of Burton Harrison’s 
 imprisonment were somewhat mitigated, and he was 
 transferred from Washington to Fort Delaware, a 
 fortress on an island near the mouth of the Delaware 
 River, where many Confederate officers had been and 
 still were held prisoners. Here his personal comfort 
 was more considered, but, under orders from Wash¬ 
 ington, he was still kept in solitary confinement and 
 officially denied communication with his friends. It 
 was not long before he was initiated to the possibili¬ 
 ties of a “grape-vine” post-office, and thenceforward 
 he was comforted with knowledge of the well-being of 
 those he loved, between whom and him had hung for 
 months an impenetrable veil. After a time his Mer¬ 
 cury was a mysterious “Tony Hardeman,” but his 
 first letters were carried secretly to Baltimore by a 
 fellow prisoner who had been released, the gallant 
 Colonel Henry Kyd Douglas of Maryland. 
 
 In August, 1865 [wrote Colonel Douglas many years 
 later], I was a prisoner in Fort Delaware, sent there by the 
 sentence of a military commission. My imprisonment was 
 not a harsh one, and what with the courtesy of the command¬ 
 ing officer, and free access to a well-filled library and the 
 liberty of the island, my time passed easily, if not rapidly. 
 But up in a keep among the battlements, strictly guarded 
 and confined, with no privileges and no companionship of 
 men and books, in solitary imprisonment, Colonel Harrison 
 passed a longer servitude wearily and impatiently. He was 
 suffering vicariously for the alleged treason of his chief. 
 Morning and evening he took his unsatisfactory exercise 
 
 C1703 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 along the battlements. We were forbidden to speak to or 
 recognize each other, and yet there was no prison rule which 
 could prevent the unspoken salute of the raised hat, although 
 with averted faces. Even the keepers and jailers of that fort, 
 used as they had become to many senseless tyrannies during 
 the war, were disgusted with the strict and hard imprison¬ 
 ment of Colonel Harrison, and the men on duty freely ex¬ 
 pressed their opinion of it. The day before I was released, 
 a stalwart, open-faced, coatless soldier came into my room. 
 After telling me that he cooked for and waited on Colonel 
 Harrison, he began to deplore the stringency of his confine¬ 
 ment, especially the order that forbade him to write to or 
 receive letters from his family and friends; and most espe¬ 
 cially, with hot wrath and an oath, did he think it was a 
 shame the prisoner could n’t even write to the young lady he 
 was in love with! (How he obtained this information, I do 
 not know.) He then said that “one way or another” Colonel 
 Harrison had got hold of pen and ink and paper and had 
 written a number of letters he wanted to send out to his fam¬ 
 ily; would I take charge of them? A flash of suspicion on 
 my part was dispelled by a look into his honest face. . . . 
 The next day he strolled again into my quarters, and, after 
 expressing his satisfaction at my release, and his regret that 
 Colonel Harrison was not freed, wandered about the room a 
 bit, then said good-by and walked out. Upon taking down 
 my coat, which hung against the wall, I found therein a solid 
 pack of letters. That day General Schoepf took me to Wil¬ 
 mington in his boat; that evening the letters were delivered 
 to Mrs. Cary in Baltimore. . . . 
 
 Some weeks later, in September, 1865, Burton Har¬ 
 rison wrote to bis sweetheart from Fort Delaware a 
 vital and manly letter; it has been preserved, a pre¬ 
 cious legacy to his sons, a mirror of generous forti¬ 
 tude: 
 
 ... In Washington I had an abominable time; was put 
 in a regular convict’s cell just four feet wide and eight feet 
 
 CHI] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 long, and there dwelt two months. For several weeks I was 
 kept in the dark, flat on my back and without exercise, but 
 when I became so far enfeebled as to be scarcely able to 
 stand upon my legs, the doctor interfered and ordered a daily 
 walk, which soon made me strong again. And the same good 
 genius, when I had been removed to a cell into which the 
 daylight could come, supplied me with books, the Comman¬ 
 dant taking care merely that they should deal in fiction alto¬ 
 gether or relate to facts as old as the Roman Republic at 
 least. The library of the Medical Samaritan did not furnish 
 a Bible. The General intimated a willingness to supply me, 
 but it never made its appearance, nor did he ever answer my 
 desire to be informed whether it was withheld because the 
 historical portions of the book of Genesis referred to things 
 of too recent occurrence! . . . Here the post library is good, 
 and I am now allowed to draw from it as I please. My table 
 displays one, two, three—fourteen volumes, which I ply most 
 vigorously. Among them is a copy of Tennyson, the most 
 enjoyable I have ever had, which I have read and read until 
 my senses are steeped in his harmonies, and all my thoughts 
 are so set to music that it requires an effort to frame my 
 sentences so that they shall not run rhythmically. And 
 when I exchange the “Idylls” for the “law of real estate,” 
 Mr. Blackstone’s discourses on “springing uses” become 
 bounding fancies made melodious, and what he says about 
 “contingent remainders” is, mayhap, forgotten in the en¬ 
 joyment of “realms in absolute present possession” in fairy¬ 
 land. My room is cool and large enough for comfort, large 
 enough for tramping up and down its length day and night, 
 and I have grown so into the habit of doing so that I fear I 
 shall be a nuisance in any house where I may hereafter be 
 unable to keep quiet. . . . Indeed, I suppose I can be as 
 content as many another has been before me living under a 
 despotism he cannot resist and which shuts up his musings 
 and his energies in his own breast. I shall never be an inter¬ 
 esting “captive,” an “heroic” sufferer, or anything of that 
 sort. There is nothing thrilling or romantic in my situation, 
 or like to be. I don’t “suffer” and never did, nor have I ever 
 
 C172 3 
 
BUETON NOEYELL HAEEISON OF NEW YOEK 
 
 had any part in the sentimentality about “martyrs”; never 
 pitied them a bit and never shall. When I have chosen my 
 part I am ready to take all its consequences as a matter of 
 course, and if a dungeon and death be among them, why 
 I shall never hold back from either; and it is only fair to sup¬ 
 pose that everybody else acts in the same fashion. So that 
 when a man is thrown to the wild beasts or led to the stake 
 for adherence to opinions which he has deliberately avowed, 
 he seems to me to do very much as the ladies who used to 
 spend the summer at the White Sulphur rather than in Rich¬ 
 mond—he merely chooses the course which affords him most 
 of what he considers agreeable, and in that I can see no 
 reason why he should be commiserated. Amid the fortunes 
 of this life, therefore, I hope to bear myself with equanimity, 
 and, if my surroundings are not pleasant in fact, I trust 
 I shall always be able to make them so in effect, taking them 
 as a matter of course and accommodating myself to them 
 with such resignation as God may give me. In Washington 
 I soundly berated the officer in charge for the affront which 
 had been put upon me, in shutting me into a felon’s cell, 
 where there were no other prisoners than those with ii’ons on 
 their legs undergoing trial for murder; that, too, when there 
 was no intention to implicate me in the charges against them, 
 and when there were twenty other prisons at that time almost 
 empty where I could have been more properly confined and 
 to which my comrades had actually been sent. This dis¬ 
 crimination against me was an insult, and (impotent youth 
 that I was) I notified him that if opportunity ever offered, 
 I should liold the man to account who was responsible for it! 
 But having so delivered myself, I asked for no “indulgences” 
 or “privileges” and wanted none, submitting myself with all 
 the patience I could to what was before me. Since then, 
 indeed, I have found it rather necessary to suppress expres¬ 
 sions of “sympathy,” etc., from one or two officers who have 
 had to deal with me, and which as coming from them seemed 
 to me to be reflections on my power of self-control. I remem¬ 
 bered the other day a scene at Head Quarters when the Chief 
 was preparing a draft for a proclamation for a day of fasting 
 
 C173 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 and prayer. In speaking of the army, he had reminded the 
 people of “our brave soldiers now in captivity and pining 
 in foreign dungeons.” I told him that the expression was 
 offensive—that men of fortitude, brave men, never pined, 
 and that it was degrading to the manliness of our soldiers 
 that such a possibility in their case should be admitted by 
 their leader. He agreed with me entirely, and the words 
 (which had previously escaped his attention) were stricken 
 from the copy which was published. I say I remembered 
 this the other day, and it was a source of pleasure to me to 
 feel that since I had become a prisoner I had never pined or 
 ivhined or bewailed for one single moment, and I hope by 
 God’s blessing to have it in my power to make the same 
 pleasant reflection if they keep it up for forty years. No, in 
 this thing I believe I have done right, and my only regret is 
 that I did not do more—that to what they call my “offences” 
 it is not added that I realized my wish to carry a musket and 
 that I postponed the accomplishment of that purpose until 
 it was too late. For that was a purpose with me, and was 
 never abandoned. The war utterly deranged all my plans 
 for life: it was a very disagreeable interruption to the con¬ 
 summation of my purposes. I did not regard it, therefore, 
 as most of the young men around me did; it did not tempt 
 my ambition or allure me into expecting any pleasure from 
 participating in it. But when the issue was fairly made I 
 believed it just and right, and I held myself, as did every 
 other gentleman, bound to maintain the country. When, 
 then, Fort Donelson had been captured and the lower valley 
 of the Mississippi thus laid open to invasion, I volunteered 
 as a private with the other men of the Southwest who were 
 gathering for Shiloh. The Chief’s invitation (unsolicited by 
 me) to join him in the relation I afterwards sustained came 
 before I had gone into the field, and tho ’ I accepted and held 
 for a time an office I found so pleasant, I was entirely in 
 earnest in resigning it in order to be at liberty to go into the 
 ranks when we had been everywhere beaten in 1863. His 
 unwillingness to accept the resignation then (together with 
 another reason as potent) again deferred my proposed action. 
 
 [174 ] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 But finally when the city was evacuated and troops were de¬ 
 serting by thousands, every reason which had held me was 
 brought to naught, and I gave up my appointment cheer¬ 
 fully to carry a musket. In leaving Mrs. Davis at Charlotte, 
 N. C., to return to Virginia, I told her good-bye, and she her¬ 
 self wrote the letter which informed the Chief of my plans. 
 But before I could reach the Army, it had been surrendered, 
 and events followed so rapidly that an effort to secure his 
 and her personal safety seemed my first duty. That effort 
 I made with all my strength, tho’, like the purpose I have 
 mentioned, it was defeated. These, then, are my regrets— 
 what I did not do, not what I did; and upon this state of the 
 ease the issue between me and the people who hold me is 
 made up. In so far as I have done anything, I believe I have 
 done right, and, so believing, I shall concede to them nothing 
 whatever—nothing. And now to what does all this lead? 
 Perhaps, like my concessions, to—nothing. Possibly the loss 
 to me of almost everything else besides. 
 
 They have never preferred any charges against me in¬ 
 dividually, but seem to have held me for two objects. 
 When that infamous falsehood implicating the Chief in the 
 assassination conspiracy was sounded, not a man among its 
 authors himself believed it, not one; least of all Mr. Johnson, 
 who knew him personally. But they managed to make a 
 newspaper clamor which excited and bewildered the people, 
 and had they brought him to trial before that illegal Com¬ 
 mission, there is but little doubt they could have executed 
 him summarily if in the meantime they could muzzle, by in¬ 
 carceration, the men who had the information and the cour¬ 
 age to thwart their merry-making. Their whole prospect of 
 success rested in the frenzy of the people under misrepresen¬ 
 tations which would have been scouted by the first newspaper 
 article any one of us could have published. Hence the un¬ 
 wonted measures to immure us in solitary and inaccessible 
 confinement. But when the impolicy as well as the impracti¬ 
 cability of success in that manoeuvre became apparent, they 
 still had the charge of treason to fall back on, and on that it 
 seems likely he will be tried, and for that occasion it is inti- 
 
 [1753 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 mated I am reserved as a witness! Such a proposition is so 
 degrading to every manly sentiment and is so indecent that 
 I am ashamed to entertain it so far as to commit it to writ¬ 
 ing for your perusal; and it is possible that when the trial 
 occurs the project may not be formally broached to me. But 
 if it is there are but two methods for further action. I 
 shall of course refuse not only to testify against the Chief, 
 but even to countenance the propriety of the proceedings 
 so far as to appear at all for the U. S. Government. For 
 laying aside all reference to my personal relation to him, I 
 shall never recognize the right of the U. S. Courts to try any 
 citizen of any of the seceded states on such a charge, since to 
 do so would be to forego my belief in their right to secede, 
 and thus to confess myself and everybody else in the late 
 contest to have been a rebel and a traitor. And then will 
 come the ultimatum from the Government to have me com¬ 
 mitted for a contempt of court, or to have me indicted for a 
 misprision of treason. In either event a protracted imprison¬ 
 ment will be inflicted, and in either event I shall tell you and 
 beg you to forget me if you are not inclined to do so before. 
 In case of a trial for misprision and a conviction I shall 
 probably remove the country altogether and leave it so soon 
 as I can get at large. 
 
 I write these things to you, my darling, because, though the 
 contingencies they relate to may never occur, they now seem 
 probable. It is therefore better that I should anticipate 
 them and tell you of them fairly. You believe, I hope, that I 
 am not little enough to make a bugbear in order to combat it, 
 and I need not tell you, therefore, that I have not inten¬ 
 tionally aggravated my situation. But now for the other 
 prospect. Suppose I am put at large within any reasonable 
 time from this date. What do you think I should betake my¬ 
 self to ? I mean where think you I should practice the law ? 
 I shall never reside again in Mississippi, or perhaps any¬ 
 where else in the Southwest. I think that practice at the 
 New Orleans bar would insure me a fortune, but I doubt 
 whether all the money in Christendom could make me happy 
 there now. And, except for Lamar and Walton, there are 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 no personal attachments to draw me towards the Gulph 
 again, for my mother and sister would of course join me 
 wherever else I might go. 
 
 Had the States south of Virginia stood as stoutly as she 
 did in ’63 and afterwards, they could have secured our inde¬ 
 pendence. They did not show a proper fortitude and effort, 
 and so we were ruined. They have now been utterly undone, 
 the people are subjugated and society demoralized, and were 
 there no other reason to influence me, I doubt whether I could 
 bring myself to live in a community thus circumstanced. In 
 ’63 I thought we were in a perilous plight, because I appre¬ 
 hended, as the result proved, that the people would not hold 
 up under the disasters of that summer. The army, after 
 that time, was weakened every day by desertions and gained 
 very few recruits. Afterwards I hoped, and then believed, 
 that Genl. Lee could win for us notwithstanding. But that 
 summer I almost drove Miss Nannie Bradford distracted by 
 iterating in the dies irae style: 
 
 That day will come, that dreadful day, 
 
 When we ’ll all meet in Botany Bay. 
 
 She prepared herself for that contingency at once by marry¬ 
 ing a rich Australian merchant, and if I leave the continent 
 I shall expect her influence to make a career out there! She 
 owes me that much for the timely suggestion which was, I 
 don’t doubt, the determining motive of her marriage. I 
 abhor the Spanish peoples; no nationality with their lan¬ 
 guage and literature can ever be either generous or en¬ 
 lightened. The Portuguese stock is worse, and elsewhere 
 abroad, Australia seems the only empire. But what think 
 you of the choice between San Francisco and Baltimore? 
 I incline daily to the latter. 
 
 In a few weeks after this letter was written, Burton 
 Harrison’s fortunes began to brighten. It had been 
 disco^*ered that it would not do to submit Mr. Davis 
 to the peine forte et dure which some partizans in 
 
 C1773 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Washington had planned for him, and this determina¬ 
 tion was reflected in the orders given for the treat¬ 
 ment of his former secretary. Solitary confinement 
 was relaxed, and Burton Harrison was even allowed 
 to receive visitors under surveillance. His sweet¬ 
 heart has told of her visit to Fort Delaware: 
 
 Our ways of getting there were devious and thorny. From 
 a village on the opposite shore of the Delaware River, we 
 sailed in a leaky fishing-boat across a swelling, roughening 
 tide. Arrived at the moated fortress on the bank, we sent in 
 our cards, by a soldier, to the commandant. To our delight, 
 no question was made about receiving us, and, crossing a 
 bridge to enter gloomy corridors, we were soon in the pres¬ 
 ence of the redoubted chief. Had I divined that the gen¬ 
 eral’s kind heart was already enlisted for the prisoner, not 
 only through his own pleasure in his society, but because of 
 his family’s warm liking and championship—had I supposed 
 that in after years these dear people were to name a son 
 “Burton Harrison” and to bid their other sons try to model 
 themselves upon one whom they conceived to be “a perfect 
 gentleman,” then I should not have been so faint-hearted. 
 The general, maintaining a severe official aspect, looked us 
 over and inquired of Mrs. Cary whether we were perchance 
 the mother and sister of Colonel Harrison. 
 
 “No,” said my mother, “only friends.” 
 
 “I understand,” said the general, hemming and hawing 
 greatly. A moment more, and he had taken the parcel my 
 mother handed to him, a miniature of myself painted by 
 Mrs. Thompson in New York, to replace the one burnt up in 
 the soldiers’ camp-fire in the Georgia wilderness, and the 
 open letter sent with it, and despatched them by an orderly 
 to the prisoner. 
 
 And then, a sudden, even kinder impulse overcoming him, 
 he asked my mother if she could trust him to show me the 
 interior of the fortress. He led, I followed, to a door open¬ 
 ing on the inner court, where, bidden to look up toward the 
 battlements, I saw my prisoner, standing indeed between 
 
 C178 3 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 bayonets in a casemate, but alive and well, waving his hat 
 like a school-boy, and uttering a great irrepressible shout of 
 joy! 
 
 Meanwhile his friends had been actively at work to 
 secure his release. His uncle, the Rev. W. F. Brand, 
 did noble service in Washington enlisting interest, in¬ 
 terviewing President Johnson, and promoting senti¬ 
 ment with other influential people. The State of 
 Mississippi stood by him. The Legislature passed, on 
 December 2, 1865, a joint resolution (Laws of Missis¬ 
 sippi, Regular Session 1865, Chapter 104, p. 256) re¬ 
 questing the Governor of Mississippi “to memorialize 
 the President of the United States, in the name and 
 behalf of the Legislature of this State, for the release 
 from Fort Delaware, where he is now confined, of 
 Burton N. Harrison of Mississippi, late Private Sec¬ 
 retary of Hon. Jefferson Davis,” and this was put in 
 the hands of Burton Harrison’s friend, William L. 
 Sharkey, the former Chief Justice of Mississippi, and 
 now Provisional Governor, who presented the memo¬ 
 rial in person to President Johnson. The prisoner 
 himself addressed the following petition to Secretary 
 Stanton: 
 
 Fort Delaware, Del., Dec. 8, 1865. 
 
 Hou. Secretary of War. 
 
 Sir: 
 
 I am now the last prisoner of war remaining in custody 
 at this post, and have the honor to apply for an order re¬ 
 leasing me. 
 
 I was Private Secretary to Mr. Davis. All the other mem¬ 
 bers of his staff have been released and allowed to proceed to 
 their homes. All the members of his cabinet have, I believe, 
 been put upon their parole. 
 
 I have been a prisoner in solitary and close confinement 
 for seven months. 
 
 There have never been any charges preferred against me, 
 
 [U9] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 nor am I aware of the existence of accusations upon which 
 any could have been based. Whatever may have been the ob¬ 
 ject of the Government in retaining me in captivity, it has 
 probably been attained before this time. 
 
 The people of my State, Mississippi, have shown a readi¬ 
 ness to conform themselves to the views and the policy of 
 the Government, and it is to be expected that they will sub¬ 
 mit to the results of the war in good faith. 
 
 I am willing to take an oath of allegiance to the U. S. Gov- 
 eminent. 
 
 Very respectfully, yr. obt. servt., 
 Burton N. Harrison. 
 
 But his most powerful advocate was the venerable 
 Francis Preston Blair, Sr., who actively and per¬ 
 sistently devoted himself to bringing about an uncon¬ 
 ditional release; and it was due to him that this was 
 at last accomplished. The Judge-Advocate-General, 
 Joseph Holt, conceived it to he his special duty to 
 accomplish the ruin of Mr. Davis and to include his 
 former secretary in the punishment. In the “Rebel- 
 lion Record” (Series II, Vol. VIII, p. 838) appears 
 his indorsement upon Burton Harrison’s application 
 for release. If it was not so tragic, it would be 
 ludicrous, this labored and unconvincing attempt to 
 distort a routine ministerial act into a deliberate 
 crime, and seems to justify Mr. Charles 0’Conor’s 
 characterization of Holt, contained in a letter to Bur¬ 
 ton Harrison written in July, 1866, as “a most ven¬ 
 omous malignant high in power—to whom all the 
 wrong committed is most especially due.” 
 
 Bureau of Military Justice, December 21, 1865. 
 Hon. E. M. Stanton, Secretary of War: 
 
 In the case of Burton N. Harrison, rebel, referred to me 
 for report by your order of the 20th instant, I have the 
 honor to submit as follows: 
 
 This person is well known to the history of the rebellion 
 
 C 180 ] 
 
BUETON NOEVELL HABBISON OF NEW YOEK 
 
 as having occupied the position of private secretary to 
 Jefferson Davis, with the military rank of colonel. In this 
 close and confidential capacity he continued, even after the 
 collapse of the military power of the insurgents and up to 
 the very last moment of the life of the so-called Southern 
 Confederacy, having been captured with his fugitive chief at 
 Irwinville, Ga., on the 10th of May last. It is thus perceived 
 that his fortunes were inseparably associated with those of 
 his principal in treason, and that his case could not indeed 
 be justly considered apart from that of the other. But it is 
 not alone from the fact of this intimate and continued asso¬ 
 ciation with Davis that his relations to the latter as a criminal 
 and traitor and his joint responsibility with him in his crimes 
 are to be ascertained. Of these, permanent written evidence 
 is not wanting, and this evidence is presented in the record 
 of the late conspiracy trial by the letter of Lieut. W. Alston, 
 a rebel officer, to Davis, and by the indorsement of Harrison 
 thereon. This letter was one of a large quantity of official 
 papers and archives of the rebel Confederacy, surrendered 
 by Joseph E. Johnston to Major-General Schofield, at Char¬ 
 lotte, N. C., and thence directly transported to the War De¬ 
 partment. The letter is without date, but was contained in a 
 package marked: “Adjutant and Inspector General’s Office. 
 Letters received July to December, 1864.” It is addressed 
 to “His Excellency the President of the Confederate States 
 of America,” from Montgomery White Sulphur Springs, 
 Va., and proceeds as follows: 
 
 “I have been thinking some time that I would make this 
 communication to you, but have been deterred from doing 
 so on account of ill health. I now offer you my services, and 
 if you will favor me in my designs I will proceed as soon as 
 my health will permit to rid my country of some of her 
 deadliest enemies by striking at the very heart’s blood of 
 those who seek to enchain her in slavery.” 
 
 Here the writer, as if anticipating the possibility of some 
 unfavorable comment upon this atrocious proposal, adds : 
 
 “I consider nothing dishonorable having such a ten¬ 
 dency.” 
 
 He then goes on thus: 
 
 cisi: 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ‘ ‘ All I ask of you is to favor me by granting me the neces¬ 
 sary papers, &c., to travel on while within the jurisdiction 
 of the Confederate Government. I am perfectly familiar with 
 the North and feel confident that I can execute anything I 
 undertake. ’ ’ 
 
 His next assertion shows that he has but recently effected 
 a secret transit through our territory in violation of the laws 
 of war, for he says: 
 
 “I am just returned now from within their lines.” 
 
 He then discloses his military antecedents in the following 
 terms: 
 
 “I am a lieutenant in General Duke’s command, and I 
 was on a raid last June in Kentucky under General John H. 
 Morgan. ’ ’ 
 
 In the course of the letter he exhibits the fact that he is no 
 obscure person, but the son of a well-known prominent rebel, 
 and as such likely to find favor in his application. He says: 
 
 “Both the Secretary of War and his assistant, Judge 
 Campbell, are personally acquainted with my father, Wil¬ 
 liam J. Alston, of the Fifth Congressional District of Ala¬ 
 bama, having served in the time of the old Congress, in the 
 years 1849, 1850, and 1851.” 
 
 Amd even more significantly, as showing that he had re¬ 
 cently been brought in contact with a notorious rebel agent 
 in Canada, found by the late military commission to have 
 been implicated in the assassination of President Lincoln 
 and other chief officers of the Government, he observes in 
 speaking of his escape as a prisoner of war: 
 
 “I shaped my course North and went through to the 
 Canadas, from whence, by the assistance of Col. J. P. Hol¬ 
 combe, I succeeded in making my way around and through 
 the blockade. ’ ’ 
 
 The letter concludes as follows: 
 
 “If I do anything for you I shall expect your full confi¬ 
 dence in return. If you do this I can render you and my 
 country very important service. Let me hear from you 
 soon. ... I would like to have a personal interview with 
 you in order to perfect the arrangements before starting.” 
 
 C1823 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 Upon this communication there was found to be the fol¬ 
 lowing indorsement: 
 
 “A, 1390, Lieut. W. Alston, Montgomery Sulphur Springs, 
 Va. (No Date.) Is lieutenant in General Duke’s command. 
 Accompanied raid into Kentucky and was captured, but es¬ 
 caped into Canada, from whence he found his way back. 
 Been in bad health. Now offers his services to rid the coun¬ 
 try of some of its deadliest enemies. Asks for papers to 
 permit him to travel within the jurisdiction of this Govern¬ 
 ment. Would like to have an interview and explain. 
 
 “Respectfully referred, by direction of the President, to 
 the Honorable Secretary of War. 
 
 “Burton N. Harrison, 
 “Private Secretary.” 
 
 Here, then, is exhibited the fact that Harrison was fully 
 informed of the contents of this letter, which can be con¬ 
 strued only as a deliberate offer to proceed to the assassina¬ 
 tion of the heads of this Government, and that, being so 
 informed, he did not hesitate to do his part in promoting the 
 infamous designs of the writer by referring it at once to the 
 executive war officer of the rebel Government for action. If 
 he had not been himself an assassin at heart he would have 
 shrunk from furthering such a villainous undertaking, and 
 would have exposed and denounced it, as well as its author. 
 Instead of this he becomes, without a scruple, the instrument 
 by which this fiendish project is made to receive the grave 
 consideration accorded to an important State paper, and as 
 a man of intelligence and education, and in view of the posi¬ 
 tion which he occupied, he must be held personally respon¬ 
 sible for the sanction thus awarded to its proposals. When, 
 indeed, it is considered that the offer of Alston, suggested to 
 him, as it may well have been, during his association with the 
 representatives of the rebellion in Canada, was but a part of 
 that deliberate scheme of assassination which was for so con¬ 
 siderable a period maturing in the rebel councils, and which 
 but a few months after the date of the letter referred to was 
 
 C1833 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 actually executed by the murder of President Lincoln and 
 the attempted murder of the Vice-President and Cabinet, the 
 guilt attaching to the act of one who in any manner advanced 
 such schemes is perceived to be of no slight character. It 
 remains but to notice that the application of Harrison for a 
 pardon or parole from his prison has received the following 
 indorsement: 
 
 “Mr. President: 
 
 “This is the case I talked with you about a few days 
 ago. The petitioner has been merely an amanuensis to 
 Davis; has never been in the war against the Government. I 
 am interested in him because as soon as released he is to 
 marry a blood-relation of my wife. The fine little girl has 
 had bad luck, for I am told that she came here before the fall 
 of Richmond for the wedding garments and was sent back 
 without them. She begs me to appeal to you to make Merry 
 Christmas of that at hand. 
 
 “(Signed) F. P. Blair.” 
 
 In view of the facts surrounding the case of Harrison it 
 is feared that the Government would gravely compromise 
 itself by complying with this recommendation, which indeed 
 would be ludicrous were it not for the strange insensibility 
 which it manifests to the revolting guilt with which this 
 man’s name is connected. No more reason is perceived for 
 its making merry the Christmas of the confidential agent and 
 satellite of Davis than that of Davis himself. Associated 
 as the two have been in their crimes, their flight, and their 
 capture, it is but just that they should not be separated in 
 their confinement. No exercise of Executive clemency, there¬ 
 fore, can be advised in this ease, and as for the application to 
 be paroled, which invariably accompanies such communica¬ 
 tions, it can no more be recommended that this should be 
 granted than that a full pardon should be acceded. To ask 
 that faith be reposed in a party resting under imputations not 
 only of the deepest dishonor and the most intense disloyalty, 
 
 C184] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 but also of the gravest crime, is, it is submitted, as uncon¬ 
 scionable as it would be unfortunate for the Government to 
 favorably consider such a request. 
 
 J. Holt, 
 
 Judge-Advocate-General. 
 
 It is a pleasure to turn from this lucubration to the 
 letter which Chief Justice Chase wrote to Attorney- 
 General Speed a few days later, on January 18, 1866, 
 in which he urges the release of Burton Harrison on 
 parole, saying: “I knew his father quite well, and 
 used to correspond with him. He was a gentleman of 
 large information, liberal culture, and the best social 
 position. I cannot but wish his son well from regard 
 to the memory of his father, whom I greatly respected 
 and esteemed; and the best wish I can form for him is 
 that he may regain the character, which I always sup¬ 
 posed his father to possess, of a loyal and faithful 
 citizen of the United States.” Surely the chief jus¬ 
 tice’s wish came true! Against such opinion, and the 
 freely expressed humane sentiments of President 
 Johnson and General Grant, the power of Holt was 
 not able long to prevail. Under the influence of the 
 good news that his release would be only a question of 
 time, Burton Harrison wrote the story of the negotia¬ 
 tions in high good humor to his uncle, Samuel Jordan 
 Harrison, then in New York: 
 
 Fort Delaware, Jan. 17, 1866. 
 
 I am afraid I neglected to thank you for your letter to the 
 Executive on my behalf, but I do so now, heartily. How 
 long I am to continue here cannot as yet be told, but I think 
 I shall be among the unchained very soon. When I come, I 
 shall have some queer tales to tell & shall be, I hope, none the 
 less entertaining for having been for so long a regular “jail¬ 
 bird.” 
 
 n i85:i 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 They have never had any real charges against me person¬ 
 ally, and have had no earthly intention of bringing me to 
 trial or proceeding in any other manner to extremities 
 against me. I am held merely because of my intimate con¬ 
 nection with the Chief, tho’ all his staff officers & all the 
 members of his cabinet (except Malheureux, & he seems to 
 be in quod because he acted as foster-father to the Volunteer 
 Navy!) have been let out on parole. A few days ago I had 
 like to have been released—the project was defeated by the 
 Judge-Advocate-Genl., who makes an old newspaper publi¬ 
 cation a pretext for retaining me. I have doubled on him on 
 that tack, however, & sent to Washington a discourse which 
 will, I think, settle the matter. At any rate, it will all be 
 well with the Chief now—of that I am assured from a direct 
 & trusty source of information—and you may depend upon 
 it. Then I shall be turned loose, if not sooner. So I am con¬ 
 tent to wait, & am in the best of spirits. 
 
 I have a cohort of strong partisans in Washington who have 
 been zealous. Genl. Grant came out for me very handsomely 
 —the President has shown the most good-natured disposition 
 to help. Mr. F. P. Blair, Sr. (who in a matter of this sort 
 is the best ally in the City), is my staunch & busy advocate. 
 Governor Sharkey & the Mississippians are stirring, & the 
 list of others includes the names of big ’uns whose appear¬ 
 ance in that connection would make my neighbors in Oxford 
 think that I have been sold to the devil, indeed. 
 
 I have been vastly entertained at the importance some of 
 the functionaries attach to me. The President sent me word, 
 a month ago, that he would give immediate consideration to 
 any statement I might make in writing. I applied for un¬ 
 conditional liberation, which he endorsed to the Secty. of 
 War. “I can see no reason for keeping H. any longer; if 
 there is no reason of which I am not informed, let an order 
 for his release issue immediately.” Unfortunately, Mr. 
 Stanton was out of town, so the paper was referred about 
 from office to office until other people had an opportunity to 
 complicate the case. Otherwise, I think my friends would 
 have prevailed at once. The malignants can’t well dignify a 
 
 lisei 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 youngster like me with an indictment for treason when so few 
 of the grayheads who controlled the action of the Southern 
 people in 1860-61 are reserved for that special distinction. 
 The fact is that they are in a fix about the Chief—they know 
 that I can tell stories which would complicate their affairs 
 still more—& so I was built into that niche, 8 feet by 4, in 
 the Washington penitentiary, to keep me from talking, & am 
 corked up here to-day for the same good gracious reason. 
 When the Secty. of War came back to Washington, he, the 
 Attorney-Genl. & the Judge-Advocate-Genl. held high debate 
 & decided to go against compliance with my application. 
 So that, ten days ago, the President said: “Many persons 
 have shown an interest in Col. Harrison, & I am not indif¬ 
 ferent to that gentleman’s condition myself. But my con¬ 
 stitutional advisers think that the true interests of the 
 Government demand his continued confinement. I cannot 
 do anything, therefore, for him at present. ’ ’ 
 
 Judge Holt declaimed to my representative who went to 
 talk to him about the matter, on the subject of “Col. Har¬ 
 rison’s rank, influence, ability & zeal in all projects to destroy 
 the Government.” My friend protested that I never had any 
 rank, that of influence & ability I am utterly destitute, that 
 I am an inoffensive youth of good morals & mild manners. 
 To which the Judge replied that all that was in his eye, 
 but did n’t prevent his seeing that I am a direful portent, 
 saying: “He was in Davis’ confidence & did everything 
 in his power to assist his schemes: for his acts as a subor¬ 
 dinate he may not be responsible; but the Government 
 has sufficient reasons for incarcerating him on his own 
 account, 8} those reasons are as notorious as the fact of his 
 existence, &c.” All of which is very flattering, I take it, and 
 conveys an eulogy in every sentence. Indeed, I think of call¬ 
 ing on the learned Judge to put those sentiments into writing 
 for future use, engrossed in a fair hand on parchment. Such 
 a character from so astute an observer of mankind would 
 bring me throngs of clients on Broadway & Wall Street and 
 secure my fortune at the bar. 
 
 They all insist on making me a Colonel, you perceive. My 
 
 C1S7 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 friends have protested & explained to no purpose; the denial 
 of military rank is considered one of my deep dodges! At 
 the War office & elsewhere they grow only more resolute 
 about it every time the matter is mentioned. I am afraid to 
 refer to it again lest they should discover that Gettysburg 
 was a grand Confederate victory; that I won it and that I 
 was in fact Field-Marshal commanding on that occasion. So 
 there seems nothing left for me but to keep quiet &, mean¬ 
 time, to send in pay accounts &c. to secure the emoluments 
 proper to the grade they have conferred. 
 
 The genl. officer (Hartranft) who had me in charge in 
 Washington, & with whom I had several dissertations, 
 friendly & otherwise, informed his mess-mates (as I learned 
 afterwards) that I had more brains than any prisoner he had 
 ever expected to hold in possession. Here I am given to 
 understand that I “have the reputation of being a very 
 smart fellow &c.” And, from the way in which some of the 
 authorities in Washington harangue on the theme, one might 
 suppose that I was in fact the most important person in the 
 Confederate Government, & that Genl. Lee, Mr. Davis, the 
 President of the Volunteer Navy & a few others were only 
 so many lay brothers dexterously put forward by that cun¬ 
 ning arch-conspirator, “Col. Harrison,” to distract public 
 attention while he executed the ingenious machinations which 
 had like to have overthrown the fabric of this glorious Union! 
 Huge fun that, is it not? Verily, there is no telling before¬ 
 hand who will be the victims of one of these grand evolutions. 
 
 But as I have gone through the worst now—summer resi¬ 
 dence in a felon’s cell, a touch of the scurvy & all—now I am 
 very well & very comfortable. Everybody on this island is 
 my good friend & is polite; indeed, so has every officer & man 
 been with whom I have been thrown into actual contact, each 
 doing what he could to soften the rigid orders under which 
 I have been committed to their charge. They have all rec¬ 
 ognized me as a gentleman & shown a proper consideration 
 —only one fellow having ever spoken a rude word to me & he 
 afterwards doing all he could to repair his blunder by zealous 
 and courteous attendance. 
 
 C 188 ] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 Good food, & many a good walk around this island, has 
 made me fat & strong again, & now that the assurance of ulti¬ 
 mate safety to the Chief has come, you could n’t find a more 
 merry fellow in a day’s search in the great city around you. 
 1 am allowed to send & receive letters. To most of my friends 
 I have written, tho’ not always such protracted epistles as 
 you find this. Those to my mother & sister were nearly all 
 intercepted on the route, but some have at last reached them 
 & now I trust there will be no further difficulty. 
 
 As to my personal appearance, I fear Aunt Mary, after 
 surveying the smooth-shaven & genteelly gloved Apollos of 
 N. Y., would not think it attractive; on the contrary, might 
 set me down for a monstrous & baleful phenomenon. Please 
 tell her that there is no barber on this island & that I have 
 tried in vain to tempt one over from the mainland. Some 
 time ago a soldier was admitted to my den with a pair of 
 shears, but hacked me so that I much prefer the disfigure¬ 
 ment of nature’s luxuriant outgrowth from my proper sub¬ 
 stance. I don’t keep a looking-glass—its stories would not be 
 satisfactory. But, some days ago, I saw something sweetly 
 resting upon the placid surface of a tin plate flooded with 
 molasses, & oh, what scenery! Hair, beard & whiskers, with 
 eyes for lakelets & nose for promontory in the forest! The 
 spectacle was inspiring, & set me to constructing a Spenserian 
 stanza for sister; descriptive, philosophical & pathetic: 
 
 This head 
 
 Is that of the youth from near Natches, 
 
 "Who wore such rebellious moustaches. 
 
 When they put out his eyes, 
 
 He expressed no surprise, 
 
 But said: 
 
 ‘ ‘ That ’s the way with rebellious moustaches. ’ ’ 
 
 ... I shall come to New York as soon as they find “the 
 true interests of the Government” will allow & shall (What 
 think you?) perhaps become your near neighbor in busi¬ 
 ness, practising at the New York bar. 
 
 C 189 3 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 On January 25, 1866, he was released. He wrote, 
 rejoicing, from the railway station in Wilmington, 
 amid a curious crowd collected to gape at the “last 
 rebel prisoner from Delaware Fort,” that now once 
 more he could subscribe himself “free, white, and 
 twenty-one.” 
 
 Hurrah! Here I am at last, and thank God for my deliver¬ 
 ance. I am upon parole, but the most indulgent parole yet 
 exacted from any of our prisoners, merely requiring me to 
 report my post-office address and to hold myself in readiness 
 to obey the orders of the President of the United States; 
 nothing more. I am not restricted to any special limits. No 
 oath is demanded. All this is by order of President Johnson, 
 who has shown me an amount of personal good will and inter¬ 
 est which is astonishing. He had the order issued in even 
 more gentle terms than I had asked for. So you must all 
 stand by him. He has shown himself a wise and resolute 
 executive and will bring the affairs of the country as straight 
 as our situation will admit of. 
 
 The commandant at Fort Delaware during his im¬ 
 prisonment was General Albin Francisco Schoepf, a 
 Hungarian officer who had joined the revolution of 
 Louis Kossuth and in consequence had been banished 
 from his native land. He had served in the Ottoman 
 army, and in 1851 came to the United States, where 
 he was employed in the Patent Office at the time of the 
 outbreak of hostilities in 1861. Volunteering in the 
 service of the United States, he was appointed a briga¬ 
 dier-general of volunteers and served throughout the 
 war. He was a man of spirit and quick sympathy, a 
 true gentleman, and his own experience as a “rebel” 
 enabled him to appreciate the plight of the Confed¬ 
 erate prisoners of whom he was put in charge. With 
 Burton Harrison he laid at this time the foundation 
 
 [190 3 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 of a sincere and enduring friendship which ended only 
 with General Schoepf’s death in 1886. He named a 
 son, born in 1868, Burton Harrison Schoepf, and Bur¬ 
 ton Harrison himself had the satisfaction of giving to 
 another of General Schoepf’s sons the opportunity 
 to begin the career which has since carried him to an 
 honorable place in the world. 
 
 As Burton Harrison left Fort Delaware a free man, 
 carrying his head high, with untarnished honor, 
 General Schoepf remarked to his wife, as she after¬ 
 ward repeated: “There goes the noblest man and 
 truest gentleman it has ever been my fortune to 
 know. ’ ’ 
 
 During the latter part of his imprisonment at Fort 
 Delaware, his Yale College classmates, Eugene Schuy¬ 
 ler and S. Davis Page, supplied him law books, and so 
 he resumed his interrupted study of the law. 
 
 Where he was to establish himself had been debated 
 while he was still in confinement, and we have quoted 
 the letter in which he sets forth his objections to re¬ 
 turning to the Southwest, where his roots were in the 
 soil. But immediately after his release he went to 
 Mississippi to visit his mother, and thence to New 
 Orleans to take a survey of his opportunities in that 
 community. They were, in fact, brilliant opportuni¬ 
 ties. Judge John A. Campbell, who had been a justice 
 of the Supreme Court of the United States before the 
 war and resigned to become Assistant Secretary of 
 War in the Confederacy, invited him to enter into a law 
 partnership, and he was assured of business, but he 
 had already made up his mind under the stimulus of a 
 tenderer partnership. So he interpreted everything 
 he felt in prison with everything he heard at New 
 Orleans as confirmation of his decision. On March 19, 
 1866, he wrote to his mother from New Orleans: 
 
 C1913 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Mr. Bradford and other old lawyers have spoken of my 
 father to me very pleasantly. They, and all my other friends 
 who know anything about business, tell me that I could sail 
 out into life here with great advantages, but they all, with¬ 
 out an exception, think that New York is a better field for a 
 lawyer now, and all tell me that I am sensible in determining 
 to establish myself there, as I can do even better there than 
 here. So to the Northern city I go. 
 
 In the summer of 1866 he went abroad for a re¬ 
 freshing voyage of several months in England 1 and 
 France; and on his return, acting under the advice of 
 Charles O’Conor, the eminent New York lawyer and 
 Democrat, who had been retained as senior counsel 
 for Mr. Davis, he entered the law office of Judge Ful¬ 
 lerton, and there studied until he could be admitted to 
 the bar of the Supreme Court of New York at the 
 December general term of 1866. And so the fateful 
 decision was made and accomplished. 
 
 Burton Harrison carried with him to the end of his 
 life, through many years of participation in a most 
 conventional civilization, something of the atmosphere 
 of the vast and mysterious Southwest; it was what 
 Canon Charles Kingsley remarked in him when, after 
 crossing the ocean in the same cabin with Burton Har¬ 
 rison, he said: “He has the freshness and tonic force 
 of a strong west wind, and an outspokenness of manly 
 opinion I have not heard surpassed.” It was the 
 
 i The opportunity for this voyage came in a commission to Burton 
 Harrison to place his young cousins, the sons of his uncle Samuel 
 Jordan Harrison, at Eton College in England. One of these boys, 
 Caskie Harrison, distinguished himself in classical scholarship at Eton 
 and, after his return to the United States, held a professorship at the 
 University of the South. Dr. Caskie Harrison subsequently established, 
 and for a generation conducted, a private classical school for boys in 
 Brooklyn, which was as successful as it was high in educational repute. 
 
 ni92] 
 
BUETON NOEYELL HABBISON OF NEW YOEK 
 
 Southwest in which his mother’s people and his own 
 uncles had found their careers, where his lamented 
 father’s “manly heart burst at the end of an unfin¬ 
 ished career with the thought that the world had not 
 yet yielded him what it owed him, ’ ’ where he himself 
 spent his earliest boyhood, and whither he returned 
 after leaving college. His natural vocation was in that 
 environment. The high-spirited, emotional men who 
 gave color to that new country, who were its indomit¬ 
 able soldiers and its eloquent statesmen, were the true 
 Americans of the pioneer race, which in 1862 still 
 faced the setting sun with unblinking eyes—a race 
 which found its most typical expression in cutting- 
 down a tree and building in a virgin soil such isolated 
 homes as can still be seen in the forests and prairies 
 of Mississippi. Most of them came out of such nests 
 as nurtured the Harrisons of Skimino, and they 
 had inherited a spontaneous resentment of the Eng¬ 
 lish colonial influence, with its aristocratic tendencies, 
 which had dominated their ancestors in the eighteenth 
 century. Education and gentle breeding did not alter 
 these race characteristics; they simply intensified 
 them. Burton Harrison’s traveled and intellectual 
 father dedicated his life to the principles for which 
 such Americanism stood. In 1832, pleading for a 
 broader recognition in the United States of German 
 learning and Continental civilization, he wrote in his 
 essay on “English Civilization”: 
 
 Let no one sneer at us, as trying to subtract the Ameri¬ 
 can mind from its only natural and mother-jurisdiction. We 
 aver, before heaven, that we believe the instinct of liberty in 
 America will one day be endangered by the uninterrupted 
 influence of contemporary English literature and manners. 
 Undermine a few principles, and efface this instinct the most 
 vital of all, and our Republic could not sustain itself forever 
 
 C1933 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 by its own weight. The sentiment of Aristocracy, with which 
 her literature is at present more pregnant than it ever was 
 before—and scarcely more in Scott than in Moore—once 
 fairly introduced, in the train of fastidiousness and exclu¬ 
 siveness, would do the work of our destruction more effectu¬ 
 ally than sermons preached by a Sacheverell in every village 
 in America for a century. But we should wrong ourselves 
 if we said there was proximate danger of this: enough, that 
 it is a possibility. We dare not go free of all care, knowing 
 the deposit we bear. 
 
 When Burton Harrison first went to Richmond in 
 his fervent youth, he truly represented this spirit of 
 the Southwest; but in his approaching’ marriage he 
 was now about to ally himself with a family which 
 stood for an influence of reaction. The Carys and 
 their kinsmen, the Fairfaxes, were of the small class 
 which governed Virginia during the eighteenth cen¬ 
 tury, and contributed tradition to the nineteenth. They 
 had been large landholders, large slaveholders, fre¬ 
 quent office-holders, had sent their sons to be educated 
 in England the better to become loyal servants of the 
 crown, learned in the forum and gallant on the tented 
 field; they had filled their plantation houses with Eng¬ 
 lish furniture and English books, and had lived and 
 dressed according to the fashions of the contemporary 
 English country gentlemen who were their kin. 1 They 
 
 1 The family of William Fairfax (1691-1757) of Belvoir-on-the- 
 Potomae illustrates what the men of this class had been. He had served 
 as a boy in the British navy, and was the judge of admiralty under Gov¬ 
 ernor Woodes Eogers, who cleaned the Bahamas of the pirates in 1718. 
 In Virginia he and his eldest son sat successively in his Majesty’s Coun¬ 
 cil and were royal collectors of customs for the South Potomac. Two of 
 his younger sons were killed fighting the French in the British military 
 service, one in 1746, “on board the Harwich ship of war in an engage¬ 
 ment with Monsieur Bourdenaye, commander of a French squadron on 
 the Indian coast, ’ ’ and the other under General Wolfe at the siege of 
 Quebec in 1759. They were all bred at English schools and at home to 
 
 [19411 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 took no part in the Revolutionary movement, because 
 they did not believe in it, and for a generation vocally 
 regretted the separation from the motherland. It was 
 a picturesque inheritance, but after the Revolution it 
 represented a dead past. Well into the history of the 
 new nation these families, like others of their class, 
 continued, with just pride in the stately relics of their 
 days of power, to be colonial. Ever they looked back¬ 
 ward to the England they still called home; but seldom 
 did they look forward to the boundless industrial 
 future which lay before the new America and is the 
 inspiration of her sons. 
 
 It was natural that this influence should be set against 
 Burton Harrison’s establishment in a new country 
 where social conditions were still crude, whatever 
 might be the promise for the future; but when such 
 tradition flowered in individual ambition, dauntless 
 for the achievement which comes with work, as in the 
 character of Burton Harrison’s wife, the natural com¬ 
 promise was in favor of the community which offered, 
 with the highest rewards, the largest measure of the 
 embellishments of life—in fine, a society which com¬ 
 bined with material welfare a just appreciation of tra¬ 
 dition and could still cry Progress from the housetops. 
 In the wreck of Southern civilization, this compromise 
 pointed inevitably to New York. To have fulfilled his 
 race destiny, Burton Harrison should have obeyed 
 that other influence which for a moment called him to 
 San Francisco: his sons might then have pushed still 
 
 be intense loyalists. George William Fairfax returned to England at 
 the time of the Revolution, and although his younger brother Brian, who 
 succeeded to the dignity and the title of Lord Fairfax of Cameron, re¬ 
 mained in America and left a numerous progeny, no member of this 
 ancient family, which had achieved its greatest distinction by leading 
 the army of the Parliament against Charles I, took any part in the 
 American Revolution. 
 
 [195] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 farther westward to rest for a generation in Hawaii, 
 and his grandsons have found their careers in the 
 Philippines! But none of them ever regretted the 
 decision for New York, and, please God, they became 
 none the less good Americans. 
 
 Before he began life on his own account, Burton 
 Harrison had a pious duty to perform for his Chief. 
 Mr. Davis was still imprisoned at Fortress Monroe. 
 He had been denied a hearing by the inability of the 
 government to decide what to do with him. The 
 allegation of conspiracy to accomplish the murder of 
 Mr. Lincoln had egregiously failed, and the govern¬ 
 ment was driven back upon the charge of treason. It 
 was planned to expiate on Mr. Davis’s single person 
 the crime which consisted in surviving the Confed¬ 
 eracy; it was to be a vicarious sacrifice of an entire 
 people. On September 21,1865, the Senate had called 
 on President Johnson for information as to what was 
 to be done with Mr. Davis; the tide of public senti¬ 
 ment was setting in his favor, but it was not until 
 May 8, 1866, that he was indicted for treason in the 
 court of Judge John C. Underwood at Norfolk, Vir¬ 
 ginia. An application for the release of the prisoner 
 on bail was made to Judge Underwood by counsel in 
 June, 1866, but it was denied on the ground that Mr. 
 Davis was still in the custody of the military authori¬ 
 ties; but this was not the real reason. On June 20, 
 1866, Burton Harrison wrote: 
 
 Mr. 0’Conor got back from Washington and sent for me 
 in a hurry to be made use of immediately. He told me the 
 whole story of the fashion in which the Radicals in the House 
 managed to terrify Underwood into refusing to bail the 
 Chief after the Attorney-General had expressed the willing¬ 
 ness of the Government that it should be done, after the 
 Chief Justice had told him to do it, and after he himself had 
 
 cisen 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 agreed that it is a bailable case and had as much as prom¬ 
 ised to receive bail as offered. Mr. O’Conor did not ask the 
 President to parole the Chief, because he became satisfied that 
 if he is enlarged on conditions as a military prisoner, the 
 rascals will manage to have him arrested and cast into a 
 common jail as a criminal under indictment by a civil court. 
 That would put the case beyond the control of the President 
 (who, whatever his motives may be, is practically and sin¬ 
 cerely our friend), and make it hopeless. For the present, 
 therefore, we must manifest no impatience, waiting until an¬ 
 other plan at which we are now working, and which is prom¬ 
 ising well, can be realized. To report all these facts in 
 proper fashion and to communicate with regard to other 
 matters, Mr. O’Conor hurried me to Fortress Monroe again. 
 . . . The disappointment about his release was very great, 
 but he bore it in good part. 
 
 President Johnson was anxious to secure some defi¬ 
 nite disposition of Mr. Davis’s case, and personally 
 he was in favor of unconditional release. Perhaps 
 Burton Harrison’s conjecture that Mr. Johnson had a 
 part in Surgeon Craven’s book, “The Prison Life of 
 Jefferson Davis,” and that it was intended, with of¬ 
 ficial approval, to promote opinion in that direction, 
 was not without foundation. Burton Harrison wrote 
 of the book in June, 1866, when it was first pub¬ 
 lished : 
 
 The book is not great or up to its subject, but is the work of 
 a friend and is doing good by its revelations and the discus¬ 
 sion it is provoking. Craven was in close communion with 
 President Johnson in March and April last, and I am sure 
 the book was undertaken with His Excellency’s knowledge 
 and approval and in the hope that one of its results might 
 be to make public sentiment which would help him to get rid 
 of his ‘ 1 elephant. ’ ’ 
 
 C197H 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 The book did aid the efforts for Mr. Davis’s release, 
 and when the application for bail was renewed in May, 
 1867, it was supported by all but the most bitter parti- 
 zan press. 
 
 Burton Harrison began to work for Mr. Davis’s re¬ 
 lease as soon as he was himself free. In a letter of 
 July 13,1866, he describes a dinner of “conspirators” 
 at the house of his cousin, Mr. William B. Reed, who 
 had been Minister to China in 1857 and was the lead¬ 
 ing Democrat in Pennsylvania and one of Mr. Davis’s 
 counsel. It was a pleasant contrast to prison society. 
 
 The dinner-party at Philadelphia was delightful. Mr. 
 Reed met me at the Girard House, and we rode out together 
 to his place at Chestnut Hill. Mrs. Reed was the only lady 
 present and was charming. I handed her into the dining¬ 
 room and sat beside her in the seat of honour. The company 
 invited to meet me was composed entirely of gentlemen who 
 had approved themselves bold and staunch friends of the 
 South and had nearly all been mobbed during the war for 
 their steadfast principles. They were Mr. Ingersoll, Mr. 
 Biddle, Mr. Montgomery, Mr. Evans and Mr. Welsh, and 
 we, with Mr. Reed himself, constituted an assemblage the 
 most ‘ ‘ treasonable ’ ’ which has gathered in the State of Penn¬ 
 sylvania since Genl. Lee’s army crossed its borders after the 
 battle of Gettysburg. The dinner and the wine were of the 
 very best, and the hours passed delightfully. The midnight 
 train brought me on to New York, after I had extracted from 
 my host a promise to spend to-day in Washington, where he 
 and Governor Pratt are at this very moment goading on the 
 authorities in the matter of my Chief’s welfare. . . . 
 
 He took an active part in the preparation of Mr. 
 Davis’s case, representing the State of Mississippi, 
 which bore the expense, in negotiations with Mr. 
 0 ’Conor and the other counsel who had been retained 
 on behalf of Mr. Davis. Governor Benjamin C. 
 
 ni98j 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 Humphreys wrote on March 27, 1867, expressing to 
 Burton Harrison the gratitude of the State of Missis¬ 
 sippi for his loyalty and continued service to the State 
 in this affair. He went to Fortress Monroe to escort 
 his former Chief to Richmond to appear before Judge 
 Underwood. By reason of sympathy for his long 
 imprisonment, the popularity of Mr. Davis through¬ 
 out the South had marvelously revived, and his recep¬ 
 tion in Richmond was an ovation. Burton Harrison’s 
 letters to his mother, which have been published by 
 the Mississippi Historical Society (Publications, Vol. 
 VIII), tell the story with spirit: 
 
 New York, June 13, 1866. 
 
 The letter before this informed you that we expected to 
 secure the Chief’s liberation upon bail or parole, that Presi¬ 
 dent Johnson himself had said to Mr. Brady and Governor 
 Pratt, but a short time ago, that it would be very impolitic 
 in the Government to bring Mr. Davis to trial now, that the 
 public judgment had practically settled all the questions to 
 be put in issue on a trial for treason, that the Government 
 could not possibly gain anything by prosecuting or even con¬ 
 victing Mr. Davis on a charge of treason, that the discussion 
 of those questions by eminent lawyers would stir up feeling 
 throughout the country, and that the whole Southern people 
 would forever regard Mr. Davis as a vicarious martyr, and 
 cherish his memory with the fondest affection for him and 
 the bitterest hostility to the U. S. Gov’t. 
 
 It thus became evident that my theories for the last ten 
 months w.ere to be proved true,—that the postponement of 
 the trial was merely a putting off of the ultimate decision of 
 the matter indefinitely, and that the Chief would never be 
 arraigned. This was a great disappointment to the Chief,— 
 he had all along earnestly desired a trial, confident of acquit¬ 
 tal, or, at any rate, assured that if an opportunity were 
 offered him and his lawyers to make an argument and vindi¬ 
 cate his views and conduct, the world and posterity would 
 
 C199 3 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 see the thing in its right light, if the court and the jury 
 did not. 
 
 As to the charge about complicity in the plot to assassinate 
 Lincoln, some of them still clamor about that occasionally 
 for party purposes, but the people, generally, and the most 
 respected of the party leaders, particularly, have long ago 
 abandoned the use of such a reproach to them rather than to 
 the great man against whom it was directed. President John¬ 
 son himself told Mrs. Davis, in the conversation he had with 
 her three weeks ago, that he never had believed that Mr. 
 Davis had anything to do with, or knew anything about, that 
 hideous murder, that he had been compelled by Stanton and 
 Holt to issue that proclamation making the charge and offer¬ 
 ing a reward for the Chief’s arrest, that they had positively 
 assured him that they had conclusive evidence of complicity, 
 that his own (Johnson’s) tenure of the presidential chair 
 was then so insecure, and the popular excitement so great, 
 that his refusal to issue the proclamation would have sub¬ 
 jected him to a charge of complicity himself for refusing to 
 arrest a man against whom public suspicion was aroused; 
 but that he did not then, and does not now, believe at all in 
 the truth of the charge. 
 
 Wilson of Massachusetts, Foster and Dickson of Con¬ 
 necticut, and others, came to visit Mrs. Davis in Washington 
 at that time, too, expressing the kindest feelings and highest 
 regard for their old-time associate in the U. S. Senate, asking 
 her to allow them to make a formal recommendation for his 
 release on parole, and assuring her that they had never for a 
 moment entertained the thought that any of the impious 
 party assaults on his character (charges of assassination of 
 Lincoln, and bad treatment of prisoners especially) were 
 true. Horace Greeley has, from the first, scorned such accusa¬ 
 tions, and the other day, when one of our friends told him of 
 the proposed attempt to secure bail, he said: “Yes, sir, they 
 have made charges against Mr. Davis, which they knew at the 
 time they made them to be utterly false, and now that they 
 talk about bail, I claim the honor, sir, to be one of his bail 
 bond.” He has, personally, been very manly about it from 
 
 C200] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 the moment of our capture,—was the first man in the North 
 to write Mrs. Davis a letter of sympathy and encouragement, 
 taking care that all the world should know of his feeling and 
 that nobody should be able to accuse him of clandestine com¬ 
 munication with the great Rebel’s wife, by addressing the 
 envelope to “Mrs. Varina Davis, wife of Jefferson Davis, 
 from Horace Greeley,” and by sending it to her open, thro’ 
 the Secretary of War, and thence down to Georgia thro’ the 
 hands of all the military commanders until it reached her. 
 Henry Ward Beecher is understood to have something of the 
 same feeling, and has repeatedly reprobated anything like 
 harsh treatment of the Chief. And, still more striking, Thad- 
 deus Stevens recently sent an offer to become one of Mr. 
 Davis’ counsel, if it were agreeable to us to have him serve. 
 Though there the wily old rascal has a purpose of his own to 
 accomplish. His doctrine is that there is no treason in the 
 war after it had once been set on foot, that the opposing 
 enemies represented independent belligerent governments, 
 and that the Southern communities are not now states with 
 rights under the constitution, but merely conquered terri¬ 
 tories which may be disposed of as he and the radical party 
 in the North see fit. In order to get that doctrine established, 
 he wants Mr. Davis tried for treason and acquitted; then he 
 thinks his nice little political schemes will come along as a 
 natural consequence. 1 
 
 So you see what a wonderful change has come over the 
 style of talk of the party leaders within one year. And you 
 can perceive what the opinions of all the world will be in 
 the next generation. Well, Mr. O’Conor, Mr. Brady, Mr. 
 Shea, two young lawyers to hunt up authorities, etc., and I 
 started for. Richmond a week ago. In Philadelphia we were 
 
 1 Professor Walmsley comments on this passage in the Mississippi 
 Historical Society Publications, Vol. VIII, p. 83, as follows: 
 
 “This belief of Mr. Stevens was first declared in December, 1865. 
 Mr. Harrison’s suspicion here was almost prophetic in view of the events 
 of the next decade. He seems to have been one of the few Southern 
 men who saw clearly at this time that ‘independence’ for four years 
 logically involved the theory of ‘conquered territory’ afterward.” 
 
 [ 201 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 joined by Mr. Reed, in Baltimore by Governor Pratt and Mr. 
 George ¥m. Brown. 
 
 Mr. O’Conor, Mr. Shea and Governor Pratt stopped in 
 Washington. The rest of us went to Richmond, where we 
 did nothing whatever except to make a formal demand for 
 trial. The court replied that the Government was not ready 
 for trial, and again postponed the ease until October next. 
 
 This was as we expected, and we then looked to Mr. 
 O’Conor in Washington to consummate the matter there by 
 securing parole from the President, or bail from the Chief 
 Justice. During the first four or five days of the week every¬ 
 body in Washington seemed to be all right for us, the Presi¬ 
 dent, the Cabinet, the Radicals in Congress and everybody 
 else there,—the Chief Justice also. Mr. O’Conor expected to 
 have bail or parole on Saturday, but between Friday morn¬ 
 ing and Saturday noon some of that set of slippery rascals 
 managed to give the thing an entirely new direction. They 
 worked over some of the Cabinet, passed a resolution in the 
 House demanding that the Chief be retained in prison until 
 tried, and bullied the President into a declaration of his 
 inability to serve us by granting parole at this time, and so 
 all our hopes seem to be dashed to the ground, and it seems 
 likely, therefore, that we shall have to wait until Congress 
 adjourns before Mr. Davis can be gotten out,—a hard con¬ 
 clusion sure. 
 
 New York, May 18, 1867. 
 
 I have been in such a rush and whirl for the last few weeks 
 as to have been utterly unable to keep still long enough to 
 write a respectable letter. The newspapers, however, have 
 told you what I have been about, and I presume that you 
 have seen my name mentioned. You know, of course, that we 
 have achieved our great labor and that the Chief has been 
 released on bail at last! 
 
 On Monday afternoon (two weeks ago) Mr. O’Conor sent 
 for me and told me I must start off immediately on the great 
 journey. I set out at daybreak next day—spent an hour in 
 Philadelphia with Mr. Reed—pushed on to Richmond and 
 
 £202-] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 reached that town before dawn, in a furious rain-storm, on 
 Wednesday. It reminded me (the rain) of the storm thro’ 
 which we all went to Richmond last year and seemed a bad 
 omen. But fortunately things have changed since then, and 
 this time our enterprise proved an entire success. I had 
 with me the original writ of “habeas corpus” for Mr. Davis, 
 about which so much has been said, and had to have it signed, 
 etc., etc., by the Clerk of the Court. We attended to that on 
 Wednesday. Thursday Col. Ould (formerly our commis¬ 
 sioner for the exchange of prisoners) set off for the Fortress, 
 in company with the marshal, to serve the writ on Gen’l 
 Burton, commanding the fort. I remained in Richmond 
 until next day to receive further instructions from Mr. 
 O’Conor by telegraph. On Friday I went down the James 
 River to Norfolk, then to Fortress Monroe. It was the sec¬ 
 ond anniversary of our capture, and I was glad to be able 
 to spend it with them in their dungeon, and to believe that it 
 was to be the last night of their imprisonment. 
 
 Next day we took the boat for Richmond. Col. Burton is 
 a gentleman and has been exceedingly kind to Mr. Davis 
 during all the time he has been in command. He was as 
 considerate and attentive on the boat as possible. Had no 
 guards or sentinels, exacted no parole of any kind, gave us 
 all possible freedom, and any one looking on would have sup¬ 
 posed that he was merely our fellow passenger and very 
 polite to us. At all the landings up the river there were little 
 clusters of people to see Mr. Davis. At Brandon they had 
 seen me as I went down the river and had learned that the 
 Chief was coming up next day. They were ready to receive 
 us, therefore, and such a reception one can hardly expect 
 anywhere *else in the world. The ladies came on the boat, 
 embracing and kissing him, weeping, praying and asking 
 God’s blessing on him, until we were all overcome with the 
 scene. Reaching Richmond, we found a crowd of thousands 
 of people on the wharf,—mainly negroes, some of whom had 
 been instructed, by the vicious Yankee emissaries who are 
 among them, to show their insolence to us. The presence of 
 some soldiers, however, served to keep them in order, and 
 
 C203] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 nothing disagreeable happened. Mr. James Lyons (a con¬ 
 spicuous citizen of Richmond) took Mrs. Davis in his car¬ 
 riage. Col. Burton and Surgeon Cooper marched off the 
 boat, followed by Mr. Davis, who held my arm. We four 
 got into an open carriage and drove rapidly to the Spotts- 
 wood Hotel, where the proprietors had prepared for Mr. 
 Davis the very rooms which he occupied in 1861 when he 
 came from Montgomery to be president of the C. S. All 
 along the street men stood with uncovered heads and the 
 women waved their handkerchiefs from the windows. 
 
 At the hotel there was no guard or constraint upon us. He 
 had his private parlor and received visits from hundreds of 
 friends who called. 
 
 Next day, Sunday, he spent indoors, receiving visitors,— 
 particularly just after the congregations came from church. 
 The parlor was crowded with pretty women—he kissed every 
 one of them—and I observed that he took delight in kissing 
 the prettiest when they went out as well as when they came 
 in. 
 
 Monday morning the f eeling thro’out the community was 
 at fever heat. The judge, Underwood, is the “bete noir” of 
 Richmond,—everybody regarding him with horror and dis¬ 
 gust because of that villainous discourse to his grand jury of 
 negroes, which he called his “charge,”—everybody felt cer¬ 
 tain that he would shut Mr. Davis up in the town jail as soon 
 as he could get control of him. We of the counsel felt more 
 hopeful—we had received every assurance from the Attor¬ 
 ney-Gen’1 and others that all would go well with us,—and 
 yet even we could not count on what Underwood might do 
 and were afraid that he would seize the occasion as an oppor¬ 
 tunity to indulge his malignant passions. 
 
 However, the first steps had been taken, and there was no 
 backing out. The women, all over the town, were praying, 
 and the men wore the most anxious faces even those streets 
 had ever seen. The people kept their excitement under con¬ 
 trol, however, because everybody felt that an outburst would 
 only compromise Mr. Davis. As to what happened in the 
 
 IT 204] 
 
BUETON NOEVELL HAEEISON OF NEW YOEK 
 
 court-room, the papers will tell you. The officials seemed to 
 have caught the spirit of the crowd, and every one of them 
 did his utmost to be polite. I went with Mr. 0 ’Conor. Mr. 
 Davis appeared, preceded by Gen’l Burton in full uniform, 
 and followed by the marshal. He was conducted to the 
 prisoners’ dock and looked somewhat flushed with nervous 
 excitement. The marshal came across the room looking for 
 me, and invited me to come and sit beside Mr. Davis, that he 
 might feel he had a friend near him and not suffer from a 
 disagreeable consciousness of proximity to constables and 
 turnkeys. It was a delicate consideration for the feelings of 
 a man like Mr. Davis, which one would expect from a gentle¬ 
 man—but coming from that fellow I confess it surprised me. 
 I thanked him with effusive gratitude, and taking my seat 
 next “the accused” felt as exalted as if I were enthroned 
 beside a king. In a moment the courtesy was extended by 
 conducting Mr. Davis within the bar to a seat beside his 
 counsel. I stood beside him thro’ it all, and was the first 
 person to congratulate him on the result. 
 
 Everything went according to our hopes. It had been 
 agreed upon that there should be no “speeches,” and the 
 remarks which had to be made were of the most meagre. 
 When it came to the judge’s turn to speak and he announced 
 that the case was “bailable” and that he would admit the 
 prisoner to bail, the effect was electrical. Everybody’s face 
 brightened, and when it was all over, everybody rushed for¬ 
 ward to congratulate Mr. Davis. The court-room, which had 
 been as still almost as a death-chamber, resounded with 
 shouts. He asked me to get him out as soon as possible, and 
 taking his arm, I pushed thro’ the crowd to a carriage which 
 was in waiting. 
 
 As long as I live I shall never forget the joyful excitement 
 of the crowd outside, as they rushed to the carriage to shake 
 his hand and pursued us with cheers and “God’s blessings.” 
 At the hotel there was a great company assembled to con¬ 
 gratulate him as he came up the stairs upon my arm, but 
 everybody held back with instinctive delicacy as he entered 
 
 £ 205 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 the room where his wife was. After a moment I followed 
 with Dr. Minnegerode, his pastor—the door was locked, and 
 we all knelt around the table in thankful prayer for the de¬ 
 liverance which God had brought us. We were all sobbing, 
 with tears of joyful emotion. When the door was opened, and 
 the happy multitude of friends came in with their tears and 
 smiles of welcome, I escaped from the room. 
 
 You never saw a community in such a glee of good humor, 
 —everybody shaking hands, embracing, weeping, and drink¬ 
 ing toasts. The animosities of the war were forgotten for 
 the moment, and for the first time since the war ended, Rich¬ 
 mond people showed hospitalities to the Yankees. 
 
 Gen’l Burton and Dr. Cooper were feasted day and night, 
 as a mark of gratitude for their long-continued kindness to 
 Mr. Davis at the Fortress. We thought it best to take Mr. 
 Davis at once from a scene of such excitement, and so they 
 took passage for New York on the steamer immediately. He 
 is on his way to Canada to see his children. He remains in 
 New York a day or two to get rested. Last night he had 
 become so exhausted with the excitement and the constant 
 string of visitors who insisted upon seeing him at the New 
 York Hotel, that I took bodily possession of him and (de¬ 
 spite his half-expressed unwillingness) drove him out in a 
 carriage to Mr. 0’Conor’s house at Fort Washington on the 
 Hudson, and I left him there to get a good sleep in the coun¬ 
 try and to enjoy a day or two of quiet before he continues his 
 journey. 
 
 He is looking very thin and haggard and has very little 
 muscular strength, but his spirits are good, he has improved 
 in appearance very greatly since he left his dungeon, and I 
 think he will be in very good condition as soon as he gets 
 rested. Both he and Mrs. Davis have inquired about you. 
 
 This was the end of the prosecution of Mr. Davis; 
 the government entered a nol. pros, in December, 
 1868. After his release Mr. Davis went to Canada and 
 to England, and subsequently established himself at 
 
 [ 206 ] 
 
BUETON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 Memphis as president of the Carolina Life Insurance 
 Company. His relations with his former secretary 
 continued to be cordial, as is shown by the following 
 letter of that time: 
 
 Memphis, Tenn., 16th April, 1872. 
 
 My dear Sir: 
 
 Thanks to your kind attention, the bos of swords, etc., 
 etc., has been received. Some of the more attractive contents 
 are missing, but it is rather a matter for surprise that so much 
 was left, and fortunately the one thing most prized for its 
 associations is among the preserved. The charter of the Com¬ 
 pany in which I am serving fixes the parent office at this city, 
 therefore I could not remove to Balto. without resigning the 
 office I hold, from the salary of which it would be inconve¬ 
 nient to part. 
 
 I am glad to hear of your professional success, which, 
 though no prophet, was to my belief but a question of time. 
 No man more ardently desires your prosperity than myself, 
 and I would that it had been in my power to promote it. 
 
 Present my affectionate remembrance to “Miss Constance” 
 and Master Fairfax, and tell the young gentleman that I 
 hope to join him in the celebration of some future birthday. 
 
 As ever, truly your friend, 
 
 Jefferson Davis. 
 
 B. N. Harrison, Esq. 
 
 Burton Harrison was now free to turn to the mend¬ 
 ing of his own fortunes, and this he did with zest and 
 immediate success. In prison he had thought out his 
 politics for the future, bravely facing the inevitable 
 and gazing into the future with a vision of extraor¬ 
 dinary penetration. In a letter of July 13, 1866, he 
 told of this mental process: 
 
 But, of course, you know that I am altogether too well 
 “reconstructed,” too melodiously “harmonized,” to agree 
 
 £207 ] 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 with the sentiments of your Independence Day harangue. I 
 am not at all inclined to see America swamped, or to re¬ 
 nounce a republican form of government, or to see in our 
 failure in the attempt at Southern nationality any other 
 result than this: that whereas we struggled for the boundary 
 of the Ohio, the issue has given us that of the Great Lakes 
 and of both oceans. The “huge Democracy” is altogether 
 another thing from the Republic we once had, and in very 
 many respects is far from being so good. But the country 
 will hereafter be much more powerful, far more imposing 
 than ever before, in very truth one nation. And whereas, 
 Southern men were in old time necessarily partizans of the 
 interests of a Section, and, from the very conditions of their 
 everlasting wrangling with Northern aggressors, of influence 
 only among the citizens of half the States of the Union, they 
 can now, with all manhood and righteousness, be spokesmen 
 for the whole country, be of opinions which control great 
 political parties in all the States, be of power throughout a 
 great nationality. That, because the necessary and unavoid¬ 
 able result of the war is the destruction of all those peculiar 
 institutions and interests which made it necessary that a 
 Southern man, to be the champion of his own State, must be 
 the antagonist of everybody else. All that is done with, 
 against our wishes, to be sure, and our most strenuous exer¬ 
 tions, but done away with nevertheless. Now there are no 
 interests which necessarily divide the country in sections, 
 except these two : agriculture and manufactures and the com¬ 
 merce which they foster. Now every man chooses (or rather 
 can choose) his party from principle and conviction. Now 
 we are in that respect like the condition of things in the 
 British political system. The Member for Liverpool really 
 represents, speaks for, votes for and is member for, London 
 and Edinburgh as well. Now the Representative from Mis¬ 
 sissippi will be representative from Illinois and New York 
 too, and will speak and vote for every other community in 
 the Union, as well as for his own village and its neighbours. 
 Before many years have gone by, every school-boy in the 
 land will see these things. They have, as necessary con- 
 
 C208 3 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 comitant, many an ingredient which would have been hap¬ 
 pily absent from the structure of our dear, glorious, dead 
 Confederacy; but there are in them far too many elements 
 of good for me to be willing to see America swamped, or to 
 justify me in forgetting the sentiment of nationality. I am 
 one of those disposed to get all possible good out of the in¬ 
 evitable. I know that individuals among Southern men have 
 a much wider field for energy and influence than they ever 
 had before or than they could have had in a Southern Con¬ 
 federacy, just as General Grant with his million of ruffianly 
 followers had a larger platform for operations and more 
 control of the world’s affairs than had the Captain of the 
 Natchez troop which was composed entirely of gentlemen. 
 I know that in a very few years the Southern people as a 
 community will have a very loud voice in the conduct of 
 this “huge Democracy,” and so, not running away, not 
 abandoning my convictions, I “change front” (as Victor 
 Hugo says the world did at Waterloo) and, recognizing the 
 new condition of things, go still forward tho’ in another 
 direction, because my former line of march has been inter¬ 
 rupted by an impassable barrier which I must avoid or butt 
 my head against, very foolishly. 
 
 These are my politics, thought out in prison and very 
 unexpectedly and unintentionally set forth here. 
 
 In the alien community of New York he at once seized 
 opportunity and achieved respect among those who 
 were at first fain to brand him ‘ ‘ rebel. ’ ’ 1 On the nomi- 
 
 i How long-continued was the prejudice in certain quarters in New 
 York against any man who had taken a part in the Confederacy, and 
 solely on that ground, was made evident to Mr. Harrison as late as 1891, 
 when he was up for election to membership in the Century Association. 
 He was elected without question because most “black Republicans” 
 took the broader view expressed in the following note from a certain 
 United States Civil Service Commissioner of the time: 
 
 “March 23, 1891. 
 
 '' My dear Mr. Harrison : 
 
 ‘ ‘ It goes without saying that I shall take particular pleasure in writing 
 to the Century Club in your behalf. As you know, I have long felt that 
 
 [209] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 nation of Mr. Charles O’Conor, who since their associa¬ 
 tion in respect of Mr. Davis’s affairs had become his 
 firm friend and patron, Burton Harrison had an early 
 opportunity to try his mettle in the public interest. 
 One of the corrupt judges who disgraced New York 
 under the regime of the Tweed ring was J. H. Mc- 
 Cunn, who sat on the bench of the Superior Court of 
 the city of New York. Representing David Mc¬ 
 Donald, Burton Harrison preferred charges against 
 McCunn before the Judiciary Committee of the As¬ 
 sembly at Albany in the winter of 1872, with the result 
 that McCunn was impeached before the Senate of the 
 State of New York. At the subsequent trial Burton 
 Harrison opened for the prosecution, his argument 
 lasting all of a day, and was followed by Messrs. John 
 E. Parsons, Van Cott, and Stickney for the New York 
 Bar Association. Mr. Harrison’s opening was so vig¬ 
 orous in its invective that McCunn was himself power¬ 
 fully affected, and, in his emotion, coughed up a silver 
 tube he wore in his throat, an accident which brought 
 on his death soon afterward. McCunn was found guilty 
 and removed from the bench in disgrace. It was a 
 conspicuous public service, most effectively done. 
 
 In 1873 he took part in an interesting adventure. 
 The history is well known of the long-sighted effort of 
 General Grant during his first Presidency to acquire 
 
 you were particularly a person who had a claim to be in the Century. 
 Being a ‘ ‘ Black Republican, ’ ’ I am not likely to be deemed to be 
 swayed by party motives when I say, as I always have said, publicly 
 and privately, that a man’s having played an honorable and distin¬ 
 guished part on the Confederate side ought simply to be a recommenda¬ 
 tion for his admission to the Century or any other club; and I am loath 
 to believe that any of the Centurians would be so petty-minded as to 
 hold your war record otherwise than in your favor. 
 
 “Yours very truly, 
 
 ‘ ‘ Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Burton N. Harrison, Esq. ’ ’ 
 
 [210] 
 
BURTON NORYELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 for the United States a foothold in the West Indies, 
 on the island of Santo Domingo, by cession from the 
 Dominican Republic of a coaling-station on the Bay 
 of Samana, at the eastern extremity of the island, 
 overlooking Porto Rico, and by annexation of the 
 Black Republic itself, which, of course, must soon 
 have been followed by a benevolent assimilation of 
 Haiti also. President Grant’s treaties to these ends 
 with President Buenaventura Baez were rejected by 
 the Senate in June, 1870, largely through the opposi¬ 
 tion of the negrophile Senator Charles Sumner of 
 Massachusetts, whose moral sense was aroused by a 
 personal quarrel with Grant; his reward being the 
 summary removal of his protege John Lothrop Motley 
 from the English mission, and a medal stricken in his 
 honor by the grateful Haitians. General Grant never¬ 
 theless persisted and sent a commission to examine 
 the island, and the report of this commission in April, 
 1871, not only recommended annexation, but painted 
 in glowing colors the rich natural resources of Santo 
 Domingo lying ready for profitable commercial ex¬ 
 ploitation. The soundness of General Grant’s project 
 has been amply justified by the subsequent history of 
 the United States in the Antilles; but public opinion 
 did not support a colonial policy at that time, and the 
 measure was pressed no further. The report of Presi¬ 
 dent Grant’s commission bore fruit, nevertheless. 
 Captain Samuel Samuels, the picturesque sailor who 
 had carried the American flag into all the seven seas 
 on swift clipper-ships, saw in it an opportunity for 
 commercial venture. He organized a syndicate in¬ 
 cluding such names as Alden B. Stockwell, Dr. Samuel 
 G. Howe of Boston, who had been one of General 
 Grant’s commissioners, George M. Pullman, Cornelius 
 K. Garrison, Henry Clews, and Oliver Ames, and as- 
 
 [ 211 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 suming the name of the Samana Bay Company, they 
 sent a commission, consisting of Burton Harrison, 
 Captain Samuels, and T. Scott Stewart, to Santo 
 Domingo to negotiate a commercial concession from 
 President Baez. That potentate, who was holding on 
 to power by his eyelids, and justly feared the aggres¬ 
 sion of the neighboring republic of Haiti, was bent 
 upon accomplishing the protection of the United 
 States indirectly, if he could not bring about annexa¬ 
 tion. General Grant himself gave tacit approval to 
 the plans of the Samana Bay Company, so that the 
 negotiations of the new commissioners were not dif¬ 
 ficult. It was indeed somewhat opera-bouffe. The 
 commissioners treated with much ceremony and for¬ 
 mal dignity with the polite and dusky dignitaries of 
 the Dominican Republic, finding them as affable and 
 anxious to oblige as so many head waiters at a sum¬ 
 mer hotel; they had the true negro characteristic of 
 wanting to do more than was expected of them, and 
 they solemnly concluded a convention by which the 
 Samana Bay Company was granted a lease of the 
 peninsula and Bay of Samana, the identical territory 
 which President Grant had sought to acquire for the 
 United States, and was created a corporation of the 
 Dominican Republic, with powers and franchises 
 which were almost sovereign and scarcely less than 
 those some time enjoyed by the great English trading 
 companies of Elizabeth’s time. This convention was 
 obediently ratified by a plebiscite of cheerful negroes, 
 and the commissioners returned to New York to make, 
 on January 20, 1873, a triumphant report. The fol¬ 
 lowing winter was spent in London placing the securi¬ 
 ties of the company, and there were high hopes 
 entertained for the Samana Bay Company; but in 
 1874 President Baez was overthrown by the inevitable 
 revolution, and the protection of the United States, 
 
 £212 3 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 which had been counted on for this expected contin¬ 
 gency, was not forthcoming. General Grant dared not 
 risk more in the adventure, so the Samana Bay Com¬ 
 pany came to naught. 
 
 In the summer of 1875 Burton Harrison was secre¬ 
 tary and counsel of the first Rapid Transit Commis¬ 
 sion of the city of New York, which was appointed 
 under the so-called Husted Act to consider the neces¬ 
 sity of a system of rapid transit for New York, and, 
 if it should find such necessity to exist, to fix upon 
 proper routes. This commission, of which Joseph 
 Seligman was chairman, held that “elevated steam 
 railways are not only more likely than any other 
 steam railways to be actually constructed in this city, 
 but are the best for the purpose in view,” and, under 
 this decision, the elevated railways on Ninth, Sixth, 
 Third, and Second avenues were constructed, and for 
 many years were the main arteries of the town. 
 
 Burton Harrison was counsel for the Western 
 Union Telegraph Company and the New York Tele¬ 
 phone Company for many years, and for them and 
 other clients was frequently heard in the Court of 
 Appeals of New York and the Supreme Court of the 
 United States. He was one of the earliest members 
 of the New York Bar Association, and the year-book 
 for 1905 of that honorable body contains a sympa¬ 
 thetic memoir of him by his brother-in-law, Clarence 
 Cary. He was unwilling to fall in with the modern 
 development of a large firm of associated lawyers and 
 continued the traditional practice of a barrister, 
 alone, being one of the last notable figures at the bar 
 in New York to hold out against the convenience of 
 junior partners. His office desk was a study in the 
 geology of business, accreted strata of the papers of 
 yesteryear overlaid by current correspondence. In 
 his professional life he exemplified the old-time 
 
 C 213 71 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 American lawyer: “lived well, worked hard, and died 
 poor. ’ ’ Although he commanded large fees, he delib¬ 
 erately allowed many opportunities for riches to pass 
 him by and go to men of less caliber, because, as he 
 resolutely said: “I will crook my back to no man.” 
 Applying current standards, one did not always recog¬ 
 nize the force of his objections to certain men and cer¬ 
 tain things they did, but when his eye kindled one 
 never failed to respect his sensitiveness on the point 
 of honor. He viewed life like the black leopard of 
 Lahore—untamed. 
 
 For a number of years he was active in politics, 
 particularly in Tilden’s campaign in 1876; but he was 
 quite unable to conceal his personal disgust at the 
 failure of Mr. Tilden’s advisers to act with vigor in 
 his behalf. On April 26, 1877, he wrote to his sister: 
 
 Don’t be afraid for the immediate political future of the 
 country. Tho’ we have not Tilden in the White House, we 
 shall still have what will, to all intents and purposes, be a 
 Democratic administration. We have the House of Repre¬ 
 sentatives; the Senate is evenly divided now, and will be 
 Democratic in a year or two. There can be no dangerous 
 legislation, and Hayes must be moderate and reasonable in 
 all that he does; he can’t be otherwise. You must not enter¬ 
 tain suspicions or dissatisfaction in reference to Lamar, or 
 any of the Southern men who have acted recently with him. 
 They were wise and patriotic in all they have done, & South 
 Carolina and Louisiana are their first results. Being at a 
 distance from Washington, and having to rely on newspapers 
 and other unreliable sources of information for the facts 
 of the situation in February and March and January last, 
 you cannot judge the men who acted with Lamar. The only 
 possible chance we had for getting Tilden into the White 
 House was the chance offered by that Electoral Commission 
 Bill, and when it was sure to be passed by Congress, and I 
 left Washington (Jan. 19), it was supposed by everybody 
 
 [ 214 ;] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 there, Republicans and Democrats alike, that it would inau¬ 
 gurate Tilden. That was the general expectation even after 
 Kasson had made the opening argument on the Republican 
 side, before the Commission, in the Florida case; it was not 
 until Stanley Matthews made his argument, and disclosed an 
 ingenious theory by which it was possible to count both Ore¬ 
 gon and Florida and Louisiana for Hayes, that the Repub¬ 
 licans had any hope. The result we all know—it w r as very 
 distressing, but it was better than having Hayes declared 
 President by violence and having him put in the White 
 House by Grant and the army. They were sure to do that, 
 and we had no way of preventing them. Had they done so 
 the whole country would have been in a tumult and the 
 Carpet-baggers would still be in possession of South Caro¬ 
 lina and Louisiana & striving to get possession of other 
 Southern States. As it is, we have the next best thing to 
 having Tilden for President—we don’t have the loaves and 
 fishes and spoils of office, but we do have an orderly and 
 peaceful administration, which is practically under the con¬ 
 trol of the Democratic leaders, the chief among whom are 
 Southern men. Tilden’s best chance was in a bold and de¬ 
 termined declaration, on the 8th of November, of an un¬ 
 flinching purpose to go into the White House—that should 
 have been done by him and by his leaders and advisers here, 
 the moment the scheme to count Florida and Louisiana for 
 Hayes was disclosed, on the day after the election. Had that 
 been done, by big meetings and bold speeches here, in the 
 City of New York, on the evening of the 8th of Nov. and dur¬ 
 ing the few days next following, all the country would have 
 been aroused and the villains would have been headed off in 
 their schemes of fraud. There would have been in every 
 State such demonstrations as were made in Columbus, Ohio, 
 and they would have succeeded. The conspirators would 
 have found all the moderate people, all the business men 
 among the Republicans, acting with the Democrats. Some 
 of the young men here, I among the most emphatic of them, 
 insisted on that course, and I myself went with a friend & 
 secured the calcium lights with which to illuminate Gram- 
 
 [215] 
 
AETS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ercy Park in front of Tilden’s house that night, whilst others 
 engaged bands of music for a serenade to him, speeches, pro¬ 
 cessions, etc., etc. We should have had 50,000 people there, 
 and the echoes of that evening would have been heard on the 
 Pacific Coast; but we were overruled; the lights and music 
 were countermanded from Head Quarters, and when I went 
 there in indignation they told me that it had been decided to 
 keep quiet, not to appeal to passions, which, if aroused, would 
 alarm all the business men of the country with regard to the 
 possibility of trouble from a Democratic administration, etc., 
 etc., and all such other weak-kneed bosh! Whereupon I told 
 some of them that they were a set of Eunuchs; that they 
 showed a lack of manhood and that Tilden would never get 
 into the White House, and I went home and stayed there! 
 The hesitation, indecision, irresolution and want of pluck of 
 those few days, were exactly what Chandler & Morton & 
 Grant wanted us to show. Having nearly all the press of the 
 country with them, they soon got all the newspapers up to 
 their most extreme pretensions, and in ten days all the Re¬ 
 publicans everywhere had fallen in with the scheme & the 
 frauds in Florida and Louisiana were completed. My hopes 
 sometimes got the better of my judgment, after that, and 
 Tilden was so confident that I sometimes trusted his calcu¬ 
 lations ; but there never was a time when they could remedy 
 the harm done by keeping quiet between the 7th and 20th of 
 November. They were all to blame—Tilden and Hendricks 
 both approved the policy which was pursued. Now they all 
 admit the mistake they made—but Hayes is in the White 
 House. 
 
 But don’t be miserable. Keep cool, as I do, and be assured 
 that the country will be decently governed now upon Demo¬ 
 cratic principles. 
 
 In connection with Mr. Tilden’s fortunes and mis¬ 
 fortunes the following letter from Mr. Justice Stephen 
 J. Field, of the Supreme Court of the United States, 
 who had steadily voted with the Democratic minority 
 
 C216 3 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 on the Electoral Commission in 1877, is interesting. 
 The statement was repeatedly made at the time that 
 Mr. Tilden was steadfastly resisting the efforts of his 
 friends to make him a candidate for the Presidency 
 again in 1880. 
 
 Private & Confidential. 
 
 Washington, April 9, 1880. 
 
 My dear Mr. Harrison: 
 
 Your telegram enquiring about my visit to New York was 
 received this morning. Before its receipt I had determined 
 to postpone my going to New York, and to write to you that 
 perhaps it would be better to delay my visit until after the 
 meeting of your State Convention—on the 22nd inst. 
 
 I will speak frankly to you—and privately of course. 
 Mr. Tilden is a candidate for the nomination—and is making 
 most earnest efforts everywhere throughout the country to 
 receive delegates in his favor. I know with absolute certainty 
 whereof I speak—he is not going to withdraw in favor of 
 any one. He will remain in the field until his ability to be 
 of advantage to any one will be gone. It is of no use there¬ 
 fore for me to meet him and talk with him. His friends 
 know, he knows—that I am his friend—and that if he could 
 unite the factions in New York—and his health were good— 
 I would be enthusiastically for him. But the opinion of the 
 party is too pronounced against him throughout the South 
 and West to make it in my judgment at all prudent to nomi¬ 
 nate him. Success with him I fear would be impossible. I 
 shall not oppose him, however, if it can be shown that defeat 
 will not attend his nomination. 
 
 I should like very much to have a long and frank conver¬ 
 sation with his trusted friend Mr. Bigelow, who is also my 
 friend. It will be impossible for me to leave Washington for 
 some days. There are several very important constitutional 
 cases before the Court under advisement—and several more 
 are to be argued this coming week. So I must stay here for 
 the next ten days. I wish Bigelow could be induced to come 
 to Washington for a few days—he might agree upon some 
 
 L 217 U 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 action for the future, 
 him. 
 
 B. N. Harrison, Esq. 
 
 Suppose you suggest this quickly to 
 
 I am very Sincerely Yours, 
 
 Stephen J. Field. 
 
 Burton Harrison attended the Cincinnati Conven¬ 
 tion in June, 1880, which nominated General Hancock, 
 and this was almost his last political service. Press 
 of professional engagements had caused him to eschew 
 the official preferment which was several times open 
 to him, and, for the same reason, he gradually lost 
 touch with practical politics, though in the Presiden¬ 
 tial campaign of 1896 he was stirred by his abhorrence 
 of Bryanism to go upon the stump in North Carolina 
 for McKinley and sound money; and none who knew 
 him will forget his exhilaration in the campaign of 
 1902, when his second son was first elected to Congress 
 from the New York district in which he had been born. 
 He declined in 1893 an invitation from Mr. Cleveland 
 to become Ambassador to Italy, as he had previously 
 declined an appointment as Assistant Secretary of 
 State. 
 
 His profession took him frequently afield—to Eng¬ 
 land, to the West Indies, and to the far West—and he 
 made holiday excursions to Russia and to the Levant; 
 but he became an inveterate New Yorker and was a 
 constant frequenter of clubs. He was secretary of the 
 University Dining Club, 1 a congenial coterie which 
 
 i The members of the University Dining Club in February, 1900, were 
 George V. N. Baldwin, Charles T. Barney, Charles C. Beaman, George 
 Blagden, John E. Brooks, Edward Cooper, Frederick J. De Peyster, 
 Henry F. Dimock, Allen W. Evarts, Austin G. Fox, William H. Fuller, 
 Burton N. Harrison, Henry E. Howland, Charles D. Ingersoll, William 
 Jay, J. Frederick Kernochan, Benjamin F. Lee, Frederick H. Man, 
 Cornelius B. Mitchell, Frederic W. Stevens, Alfred J. Taylor, George 
 W. Van Slyck, Edmund Wetmore, Buchanan Winthrop. 
 
 C 218 3 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 represented much of the best in the New York of his 
 generation. While he steadily bore himself with a 
 certain aloofness of spirit which was characteristic, 
 he had a surprising touch with all classes of the com¬ 
 munity, particularly among younger men, who warmed 
 to his courtesy. His especial friends among his con¬ 
 temporaries were Henry F. Dimock, Francis Lynde 
 Stetson, Peter B. Olney, Buchanan Winthrop, Charles 
 C. Beaman, and, in earlier years, William C. Whitney. 
 As in town, so at Lenox and at Bar Harbor, where he 
 had villas, he took great pleasure in polite society. 
 His handsome presence and courtly manner made him 
 everywhere welcome, while his table-talk was inimit¬ 
 able-spontaneous, learned, witty; it sparkled like his 
 topaz eye. 
 
 He was a keen and ardent student of the more ob¬ 
 scure periods of American history, particularly in 
 respect to Virginia. When Alexander Brown was 
 compiling his “Genesis of the United States,” Burton 
 Harrison volunteered and gave active aid, running 
 down material, tracing rivulets of doubtful sugges¬ 
 tion to their fountains of fact, ransacking libraries, 
 and borrowing rare books of Americana wherever 
 they were to be found. His literary enthusiasm when 
 these noble volumes were at last published was infec¬ 
 tious. { He took sincere pleasure and pride in the 
 growiitg popularity of his wife’s literary work and 
 was her severest, if most affectionate, critic. In “The 
 Anglomaniacs,” “Belhaven Tales,” and the troupe 
 of charming novels which followed them, as in her more 
 serious but not less charming historical essays, there 
 are many evidences of his strong and sound critical 
 judgment. In her personal memoirs, soon to be pub¬ 
 lished, she fairly measures and proudly acknowledges 
 the value of this stimulus to her best work. 
 
 [219] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 He bad married, on November 26, 1867, Constance 
 Cary, daughter of Archibald Cary and Monimia Fair¬ 
 fax of Virginia, and had three sons, 1 all born in New 
 York; all of them he had the satisfaction to see gradu¬ 
 ated at Yale, two following him in the Skull and 
 Bones and subsequently coming to the bar in New 
 York. He loved and respected his sons, and his sons, 
 in their several ways, loved him. During the last 
 hours of the Ddmmerung of his life, when they came 
 together from the crowded courses of their own teem¬ 
 ing lives and sat awaiting the summons, unanimously 
 his sons agreed that he had been the most stimulating 
 and the most agreeable man they had ever known. 
 
 He was preeminently a gentleman, satisfying alike 
 the test of Confucius—“frugal in eating and drinking 
 
 1 Burton N. Harrison’s sons are: 
 
 1. Fairfax Harrison, born March 13, 1869, and graduated at Yale 
 1890. He was admitted to the bar in New York in 1892, but in 1896 
 entered railway service. He married Hetty Cary, daughter of John 
 Brune Cary, Esq., of Baltimore, and has three children, Constance, 
 Ursula, and Bichard. He resides at Belvoir, Fauquier County, Virginia. 
 
 2. Francis Burton Harrison, born December 18, 1873, and graduated 
 at Yale 1895. He was admitted to the bar in New York in 1897, and for 
 a time was an instructor at the New York Law School. He volunteered 
 for the Spanish War with Troop A, N. Y. N. G., but was soon appointed 
 Captain and A. A. G., U. S. V. In 1902 he was elected to Congress in the 
 Thirteenth New York District, in 1904 was the Democratic candidate for 
 Lieutenant-Governor of New York, and since 1906 has represented the 
 Sixteenth New York District in Congress. He married, first, Mary Crocker, 
 daughter of Charles Crocker, Esq., of California, and, second, Mabel 
 Judson, daughter of Henry Judson, Esq., of Brooklyn, and has four 
 children, Virginia Eandolph, Barbara, Burton, and Frances Fairfax. He 
 resides at 876 Fifth Avenue, New York, and Greenway Court, Bar Har¬ 
 bor, Maine. 
 
 3. Archibald Cary Harrison, born October 21, 1876, and graduated at 
 Yale 1898. For several years he was treasurer of the Empire Trust 
 Company of New York. He married Helena Bates Walley, daughter of 
 George Phillipps Walley, Esq., of Boston, and has one child, a daughter 
 Mary. He resides at Mount Kisco, Westchester County, New York, and 
 Burnmouth, Bar Harbor, Maine. 
 
 £ 2201 ] 
 
BURTON NORVELL HARRISON OF NEW YORK 
 
 and lavish to the ghosts of the dead,” self-restrained 
 and ceremonious—as the test of Browning’s hero, 
 dauntless self-effacement: 
 
 He held his life out lightly on his hand 
 For any man to take. 
 
 He died on a visit to Washington on March 29,1904, 
 in his sixty-sixth year. 
 
 L 22i:i 
 
THE CAPTURE 
 OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
THE CAPTURE 
 OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 BY BURTON N. HARRISON 
 
 (Reprinted from the Century Magazine for November, 1883, with notes, 
 never before printed, by Jefferson Davis 1) 
 
 I N anticipation of the capture of Richmond, the President 
 had decided to remove his family to a place of probable 
 security. He desired, however, to keep them as near as might 
 be to the position General Lee intended to occupy when 
 obliged to withdraw from the lines around Richmond and 
 Petersburg. Charlotte, North Carolina, was selected for the 
 purpose; and I w T as requested to accompany Mrs. Davis and 
 the children on their journey. i 2 
 
 We started from Richmond in the evening of the Friday 
 before the city was evacuated. The President accompanied 
 us to the cars; and after the ladies had taken their seats, but 
 while we were still at the station of the Danville railroad, 
 awaiting the signal for the train to move, he walked a short 
 distance aside with me, and gave his final instructions in 
 nearly or quite these words: 
 
 “My latest information from General Lee is, that Sheri¬ 
 dan has been ordered to move with his cavalry to our right 
 flank and to tear up the railroad; he is to remain there, de- 
 
 i Mr. Harrison sent the Century proof-sheets to Mr. Davis and invited 
 his comments. The notes hereinafter printed and signed (by the 
 present editor) J. D. for identification were written by Mr. Davis in his 
 own hand on the proof-sheets, which now form part of the “Burton 
 Harrison Collection” MSS. in the Congressional Library. It will be 
 noted that Mr. Harrison did not adopt all Mr. Davis’s suggestions. 
 
 2 “ To a house there where Mr. Davis had provided for them by the 
 friendly aid of Major Echols. J. D. 
 
 C225] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 stroying as much of the railroad as he can, until driven off 
 by Hampton or by the lack of supplies; he is then to rejoin 
 Grant in front of Petersburg if possible; otherwise, to go to 
 Sherman in North Carolina. After establishing Mrs. Davis 
 at Charlotte, you will return to Richmond as soon as you 
 can.” 
 
 I may here remark that, when a prisoner in Washington, 
 in the following July, I one day got possession of a piece of 
 a newspaper containing a part of the report, 1 made by Gen¬ 
 eral Sheridan, of the operations under his command known 
 as the “Battle of Five Forks.” I remember the impression 
 it gave me of the accuracy and freshness of General Lee’s 
 intelligence from General Grant’s head-quarters, when I 
 read, that day in prison, Sheridan’s own statement showing 
 that his orders were to move with cavalry only, to make a 
 raid on the railroad on General Lee’s right flank, and, when 
 driven off, to return to Petersburg if he could, otherwise to 
 join Sherman; and that it was during the night, when he 
 was about to move with the cavalry only, that General Grant 
 notified him of a change of plan, afterward giving him the 
 corps of infantry with which the battle was actually fought. 
 
 Bidding good-bye to the President, we got away from 
 Richmond about ten o’clock. It was a special train. Our 
 party consisted of Mrs. Davis, Miss Howell (her sister), the 
 four children, Ellen (the mulatto maid-servant), and James 
 Jones (the mulatto coachman). With us were also the 
 daughters of Mr. Trenholm, the Secretary of the Treasury, 
 on their way to South Carolina, under the escort of midship¬ 
 man James M. Morgan. That young gentleman was then 
 engaged to Miss Trenholm, and afterward married her. 
 There were no other passengers, and the train consisted of 
 only two or three cars. In one of them, the coachman had 
 the two carriage horses 2 recently presented to Mrs. Davis 
 
 1 ‘ ‘ I have not been able to find Sheridan’s report, but General 
 Warren, who was in the Battle of Five Forks and censured by Sheridan, 
 answered him with a good deal of severity, and the detached sentences 
 quoted by Warren are all I can find. ’ ’ —J. D. 
 
 2 ‘ ‘ They were the same Mr. Davis had purchased in Western Virginia 
 and which had been used for several years. ’ J. D. 
 
 C226 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 by several gentlemen of Richmond. She had owned and used 
 them for several years; but during the preceding winter the 
 President’s household had felt the pressure of the “hard 
 times” even more than before; he had sold all his own horses 
 except the one he usually rode; and, being in need of the 
 money these would fetch, Mrs. Davis had, some time after¬ 
 ward, sold them also through a dealer. 1 The afternoon of 
 the sale, however, they were returned to the stable with a 
 kind letter 2 to her from Mr. James Lyons and a number of 
 other prominent gentlemen, the purchasers, begging her to 
 accept the horses as a gift in token of their regard. The 
 price they had paid for the pair was, I think, twelve thou¬ 
 sand dollars—a sum which dwindles somewhat when stated 
 to have been in Confederate currency (worth, at that time, 
 only some fifty for one in gold), and representing about two 
 hundred and forty dollars in good money. 
 
 It illustrates the then condition of the railways and means 
 of transportation in the Confederate States, that, after pro¬ 
 ceeding twelve or fifteen miles, our locomotive proved unable 
 to take us over a slight up-grade. We came to a dead halt, 
 and remained there all night. The next day was well ad¬ 
 vanced when Burksville Junction was reached; and I there 
 telegraphed to the President the accounts received from the 
 battle between Sheridan and Pickett. 
 
 It was Sunday morning before we arrived at Danville. 
 While preparations were making there to send on our train 
 tow r ard Charlotte, Morgan and I took a walk through the 
 town and made a visit to the residence of Major Sutherlin, 
 the most conspicuous house in Danville. The train got off 
 again by midday, but did not reach Charlotte until Tuesday. 
 At Charlotte, we were courteously entertained 3 for a day or 
 two by Mr. Weil, an Israelite, a merchant of the town. 
 
 1 ‘ ‘ The expense of supplying forage for the horses having become 
 embarrassing, Mr. Davis sold all of his except the one he usually rode 
 and Mrs. Davis’s carriage horses, and after his departure to visit the 
 Army of the West, she offered these for sale through a dealer. ’ ’ —J. D. 
 
 2 “Without signature.”—J. D. 
 
 3 “Occupied the house rented for the family and were kindly aided.” 
 -J. D. 
 
 [227] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Communication liad been so interrupted that we did not 
 hear of the evacuation of Richmond until Mrs. Davis re¬ 
 ceived a telegram, on Wednesday, from the President at Dan¬ 
 ville, merely announcing that he was there. 
 
 As soon as I could do so, and when we had comfortably 
 established Mrs. Davis and her family in the house provided 
 for them, I returned to Danville and joined the President. 
 With several members of his cabinet, he was a guest at Major 
 Sutherlin’s house, where I arrived late in the evening, and 
 spent the night. 
 
 A report coming in that the enemy’s cavalry was approach¬ 
 ing from the westward, the hills around Danville, where 
 earth-works had already been thrown up, were manned by 
 the officers and men that had constituted the Confederate 
 navy in and near Richmond; and command of the force was 
 given to Admiral Semmes (of the Alabama), who was made 
 a brigadier-general for the nonce. 
 
 The several bureaus of the War Department, and perhaps 
 several of the other departments, had arranged quarters for 
 themselves in the town, and were organizing for regular 
 work. A separate and commodious house had been provided 
 (I think by the town authorities) as a head-quarters for the 
 President and his personal staff; and Mr. M. H. Clark, our 
 chief clerk, had already established himself there and was 
 getting things in order. It was only the next afternoon, 
 however, after my return to Danville, that the President re¬ 
 ceived a communication informing him of the surrender by 
 General Lee of the army of Northern Virginia, 1 and gave or¬ 
 ders for an immediate withdrawal into North Carolina. Under 
 his directions, we set to work at once to arrange for a railway 
 train to convey the more important officers of the Govern¬ 
 ment and such others as could be got aboard, with our lug- 
 
 i ‘ ‘ The information was not by a communication from General Lee, 
 but by those who fled to escape being surrendered. I think the first 
 who came was a son of General H. A. Wise. J. D. In “The End of 
 an Era” John S. Wise confirms Mr. Davis’s memory and tells thfe 
 story of his ride with the dispatch, and of his delivery of it to Mr. Davis 
 after an encounter with Burton Harrison. 
 
 C2283 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 gage and as much material as it was desired to carry along, 
 including the boxes of papers that had belonged to the execu¬ 
 tive office in Richmond. With the cooperation of the officers 
 of the Quartermaster’s Department, the train was, with dif¬ 
 ficulty, got ready; and the guards I placed upon it excluded 
 all persons and material not specially authorized by me to 
 go aboard. Of course, a multitude was anxious to embark, 
 and the guards were kept busy in repelling them. 
 
 As I stood in front of our head-quarters, superintending 
 the removal of luggage and boxes to the train, two officers 
 rode up, their horses spattered with mud, and asked for the 
 news. I told them of the surrender of General Lee’s army, 
 and inquired who they were and whence they had come. 
 They had ridden from Richmond, and were just arrived, 
 having made a wide detour from the direct road, to avoid 
 capture by the enemy. One of them was a colonel from Ten¬ 
 nessee. He expressed great eagerness to get on as rapidly as 
 possible toward home. I remarked upon the freshness and 
 spirit of his horse, and asked where he had got so good a 
 steed. He said the horse belonged to a gentleman in Rich¬ 
 mond, whose name he did not recollect, but who had asked 
 him, in the confusion of the evacuation, to take the horse out 
 to his son—then serving on General Ewell’s staff. He added 
 that, as General Ewell and staff had all been captured, he 
 did not know what to do with the horse, and should be glad 
 to turn him over to some responsible person—exacting an 
 obligation to account to the owner. I said I should be glad 
 to have the horse, and would cheerfully assume all responsi¬ 
 bilities. The colonel rode off, but returned in a short time. 
 He had tried to get on the railway train, but found he 
 could n’t do it without an order from me; whereby he re¬ 
 marked that, if I would furnish such an order, he would 
 accept my proposition about the horse. The arrangement 
 was made immediately, and the colonel became a passenger 
 on the train, which also conveyed my horse, with others be¬ 
 longing to the President and his staff. 
 
 That horse did me noble service, and I became very much 
 attached to him. Further on, I shall tell the sad fate that 
 
 [229 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 befell him. Long afterward, I ascertained the owner was 
 Mr. Edmond, of Richmond, with whom I had a conversation 
 on the subject, when I was there attending upon the pro¬ 
 ceedings in the United States Court for the release of Mr. 
 Davis from prison upon bail. I related the adventures of his 
 steed, and offered to pay for him; but Mr. Edmond promptly 
 and very generously said he could not think of taking pay 
 for the horse; that the loss was but an incident of the loss of 
 everything else we had all suffered in the result of the war, 
 and that his inquiries had been made only because the animal 
 was a great pet with the children, and they were all anxious 
 to know his fate. 
 
 Among the people who besieged me for permits to enter 
 
 the train was General R-, with several daughters and one 
 
 or more of his staff officers. He had been on duty in the 
 “torpedo bureau,” and had with him what he considered a 
 valuable collection of fuses and other explosives. I dis¬ 
 trusted such luggage as that, though the General confidently 
 asserted it was quite harmless. I told him he could n’t go 
 with us—there was no room for him. He succeeded at last, 
 however, in getting access to the President, who had served 
 with him, long years before, in the army; in kindness to an 
 old friend, Mr. Davis finally said I had better make room for 
 the General, and he himself took one of the daughters to 
 share his own seat. That young lady was of a loquacity 
 irrepressible; she plied her neighbor diligently—about the 
 weather, and upon every other topic of common interest- 
 asking him, too, a thousand trivial questions. The train 
 could not yet be got to move; the fires in the locomotive 
 would n’t burn well, or some other difficulty delayed us; 
 and there we all were, in our seats, crowded together, wait¬ 
 ing to be off, full of gloom at the situation, wondering what 
 would happen next, and all as silent as mourners at a fu¬ 
 neral; all except, indeed, the General’s daughter, who prat¬ 
 tled on in a voice everybody heard. She seemed quite 
 unconscious of the impatience Mr. Davis evidently to every¬ 
 body else, felt for her and her conversation. In the midst 
 of it all, a sharp explosion occurred very near the President, 
 
 [230] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 and a young man was seen to bounce into the air, clapping 
 both hands to the seat of his trowsers. We all sprang to our 
 feet in alarm, but presently found that it was only an officer 
 
 of General R-’s staff, who had sat down rather abruptly 
 
 upon the flat top of a stove (still standing in the car, but 
 without a fire), and that the explosion was made by one of 
 the torpedo appliances he was carrying in his coat-tail 
 pocket. 
 
 Among the servants at the President’s house in Richmond 
 had been one called Spencer. He was the slave of somebody 
 in the town, but made himself a member of our household, 
 and could n’t be got rid of. Spencer was inefficient, un¬ 
 sightly, and unclean,—a black Caliban,—and had the man¬ 
 ners of a corn-field darky. He always called Mr. Davis 
 “Marse Jeff,” and was the only one of the domestics who 
 used that style of address. I fancy the amusement Mr. Davis 
 felt at that was the real explanation of the continued suffer¬ 
 ance extended to the fellow by the family for a year or more. 
 Spencer would often go to the door to answer the bell, and 
 almost invariably denied that Mr. Davis was at home. The 
 visitor sometimes entered the hall, notwithstanding, and 
 asked to have his name sent up; whereupon Spencer gener¬ 
 ally lost his temper and remarked, “I tell you, sir, Marse 
 Jeff ’dines to see you”; and unless somebody came to the 
 rescue, the intruder rarely got any further. This Spencer 
 had accompanied the party from Richmond to Danville, but 
 had made the journey in a box-car with a drunken officer, 
 who beat him. The African was overwhelmed with disgust 
 at such, treatment, and announced in Danville that he should 
 
 go no further if-was to be of the party. When he had 
 
 learned, however, that his enemy (being in a delirium and 
 unable to be moved) was to be left behind at Danville, Spen¬ 
 cer cheerfully reported at the train, and asked for transpor¬ 
 tation. I assigned him to a box-car with the parcels of fuses, 
 
 etc., put aboard by General R-; and he had not yet made 
 
 himself comfortable there, when somebody mischievously 
 told him those things would certainly explode and blow him 
 to “kingdom come.” The darky fled immediately, and de¬ 
 ll 231 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 manded of me other quarters. I told him he could n’t travel 
 in any other car; and that, happily, relieved us of his com¬ 
 pany. Mournfully remarking, “Den Marse Jeff ’ll have to 
 take keer of hisself, ’ ’ Spencer, the valiant and faithful, bade 
 me good-bye, and said he should return to Richmond! 
 
 We halted for several days at Greensboro’ for consultation 
 •with General Joseph E. Johnston, whose army was then con¬ 
 fronting Sherman. The people in that part of North Caro¬ 
 lina had not been zealous supporters of the Confederate 
 Government; and, so long as we remained in the State, we 
 observed their indifference to what should become of us. It 
 was rarely that anybody asked one of us to his house; and 
 but few of them had the grace even to explain their fear that, 
 if they entertained us, their houses would be burned by the 
 enemy, when his cavalry should get there. 
 
 During the halt at Greensboro’ most of us lodged day and 
 night in the very uncomfortable railway cars we had arrived 
 in. The possessor of a large house in the town, and perhaps 
 the richest and most conspicuous of the residents, came in¬ 
 deed effusively to the train, but carried off only Mr. Tren- 
 holm, the Secretary of the Treasury. This hospitality was 
 explained by the information that the host was the alarmed 
 owner of many of the bonds, and of much of the currency, of 
 the Confederate States, and that he hoped to cajole the 
 Secretary into exchanging a part of the “Treasury gold” 
 for some of those securities. It appeared that we were re¬ 
 puted to have many millions of gold with us. Mr. Trenholm 
 was ill during most or all of the time at the house of his 
 warm-hearted host, and the symptoms were said to be greatly 
 aggravated, if not caused, by importunities with regard to 
 that gold. 
 
 Colonel John Taylor Wood, of our staff, had, some time 
 before, removed his family to Greensboro’ from Richmond, 
 and took the President (who would otherwise have probably 
 been left with us in the cars) to share his quarters near by. 
 The Woods were boarding, and their rooms were few and 
 small. The entertainment they were able to offer their guest 
 was meager, and was distinguished by very little comfort 
 
 C232 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 either to him or to them, the people of the house continually 
 and vigorously insisting to the colonel and his wife, the 
 while, that Mr. Davis must go away, saying they were un¬ 
 willing to have the vengeance of Stoneman’s cavalry brought 
 upon them by his presence in their house. 
 
 The alarm of these good people was not allayed when they 
 ascertained, one day, that General Joseph E. Johnston, with 
 General Breckinridge (Secretary of War), General Beaure¬ 
 gard, Mr. Benjamin (Secretary of State), Mr. Mallory (Sec¬ 
 retary of the Navy), Mr. Reagan (Postmaster-General), and 
 perhaps one or two other members of the cabinet and officers 
 of the army, were with the President, in Colonel Wood’s 
 rooms, holding a council of war. 
 
 That route through North Carolina had been for some time 
 the only line of communication between Virginia and Georgia 
 and the Gulf States. The roads and towns were full of offi¬ 
 cers and privates from those Southern States, belonging to 
 the Army of Northern Virginia. Many of them had been 
 home on furlough, and were returning to the army when 
 met by the news of General Lee’s surrender; others were 
 stragglers from their commands. All were now going home, 
 and, as some of the bridges south of Greensboro’ had been 
 burned by the enemy’s cavalry, and the railways throughout 
 the southern country generally were interrupted, of course 
 everybody wanted the assistance of a horse or mule on his 
 journey. Few had any scruples as to how to get one. 
 
 I remember that a band of eight or ten young Missis- 
 sippians, at least one of them an officer (now a prominent 
 lawyer in New Orleans), and several of them personally 
 known to*me, offered themselves at Greensboro’ as an escort 
 for the President. Until something definite should be known, 
 however, as to our future movements, I was unable to say 
 whether they could be of service in that capacity. After sev¬ 
 eral days of waiting, they decided for themselves. Arousing 
 me in the small hours of the night, their self-constituted com¬ 
 mander said if I had any orders or suggestions to give they 
 should be glad to have them on the spot, as, otherwise, it had 
 become expedient to move on immediately. I asked what had 
 
 IT 233 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 happened. He showed me the horses they had that night 
 secured by “pressing” them from neighboring farmers, and 
 particularly his own mount, a large and handsome dapple- 
 gray stallion, in excellent condition. I congratulated him on 
 his thrift, and in an instant they were off in a gallop through 
 the mud. The President’s horses, my own, and those belong¬ 
 ing to the other gentlemen of our immediate party, were 
 tied within a secure inclosure while we remained at Greens¬ 
 boro’, and were guarded by the men (about a dozen) who, 
 having received wounds disabling them for further service in 
 the field, had acted as sentinels during the last year at the 
 President’s house in Richmond, under the command of a gal¬ 
 lant young officer who had lost an arm. 
 
 The utmost vigilance was necessary, from this time on, in 
 keeping possession of a good horse. I remember that at 
 Charlotte, some days later, Colonel Burnett, senator from 
 Kentucky, told me he had just come very near losing his 
 mare. He had left her for a little while at a large stable 
 where there were many other horses. Going back after a 
 short absence, Burnett noticed a rakish-looking fellow walk¬ 
 ing along the stalls, and carefully observing the various 
 horses until he came to the mare, when, after a moment’s 
 consideration, he called out to a negro rubbing down a neigh¬ 
 boring horse: ‘ ‘ Boy, saddle my mare here; and be quick 
 about it.” The negro answered, “Aye, aye, sir,” and was 
 about to obey, when the senator stepped up, saying: “My 
 friend, you are evidently a judge of horseflesh; and I feel 
 rather complimented that, after looking through the whole 
 lot, you have selected my mare! ’ ’ The chap coolly replied, 
 “ Oh ! is that your mare, Colonel ? ’ ’ and walked off. When 
 we had laughed over the story, I asked Burnett, “Well, and 
 where is she now 1 ?” “Oh,” said he, “I sha’n’t trust her 
 out of my sight again; and Gus Henry is holding her for me 
 down at the corner until I can get back there.” The person 
 thus familiarly spoken of as “Gus” Henry, then acting as a 
 hostler for his friend, was the venerable and distinguished 
 senator from Tennessee, with all of the stateliness and much 
 
 [234] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 of the eloquence of his kinsman, Patrick Henry, the great 
 orator of Virginia. 
 
 At Greensboro’ were large stores of supplies belonging to 
 the quartermaster and commissary departments. These were 
 to be kept together until it could be ascertained whether 
 General Johnston’s army would need them. I recollect, as 
 one of the incidents of our sojourn there, that, after many 
 threats during several days to do so, a formidable attack 
 w r as made by men belonging to a cavalry regiment upon one 
 of the depots where woolen cloths (I think) were stored. 
 They charged down the road in considerable force, with yells 
 and an occasional shot; but the “Home Guards,” stationed 
 at the store-house, stood firm, and received the attack with a 
 well directed volley. I saw a number of saddles emptied, 
 and the cavalry retreat in confusion. Notwithstanding the 
 utmost vigilance of the officers, however, pilfering from the 
 stores went on briskly all the time; and I fancy that, imme¬ 
 diately after we left, there was a general scramble for what 
 remained of the supplies. 
 
 Prom Greensboro’, at this time, a railway train was dis¬ 
 patched toward Raleigh with a number of prisoners, to be 
 exchanged, if possible, for some of our own men then in 
 General Sherman’s hands. They were in charge of Major 
 "William H. Norris, of Baltimore (Chief of the Signal Corps), 
 and Major W. D. Hennen. The latter had, before the w r ar, 
 been a distinguished member of the New Orleans bar, and has 
 since been at the bar in New York. Those two officers were at 
 Yale College together in their youth, and had shared in many 
 a frolic in Paris and other gay places. They evidently re¬ 
 garded this expedition with the prisoners as a huge “lark.” 
 The train moved off with a flag of truce flying from the loco¬ 
 motive. When, a day or two afterward, they approached 
 the enemy’s lines, the prisoners all got out of the cars and 
 ran off to their friends, and Norris and Hennen were them¬ 
 selves made prisoners! Indignant at such treatment, they 
 addressed a communication to the commanding officer (Scho¬ 
 field, I think), demanding to know r why they were treated 
 
 C235] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 as prisoners, and why their flag had not been respected. 
 Schofield considered the Confederate Government was now 
 no more, and asked what flag they referred to. This gave 
 Hennen a great opportunity, and he overpowered the enemy 
 with a reply full of his most fervid eloquence: ‘ ‘ What flag ? 
 The flag before which the ‘star-spangled banner’ has been 
 ignominiously trailed in the dust of a thousand battle-fields! 
 The flag that has driven from the ocean the commerce of the 
 United States! The flag which will live in history as long 
 as the heroic achievements of patriotic men are spoken of 
 among the nations! The glorious, victorious, and immortal 
 flag of the Confederate States of America!” 
 
 We moved southward on, I think, the day following the 
 council of war held with General Johnston, starting from 
 Greensboro’ in the afternoon. The President, those of us 
 who constituted his immediate staff, and some members of 
 the cabinet, were mounted. Others rode in ambulances, army 
 wagons, or such conveyances as could be got. Almost at the 
 last minute I was told I must provide an ambulance for Mr. 
 Judah P. Benjamin, Secretary of State. His figure was not 
 well adapted for protracted riding, and he had firmly an¬ 
 nounced that he should not mount a horse until obliged to . 1 
 
 i That he could handle a steed in an emergency was very well known, 
 and was afterward shown when he dexterously got himself into the 
 saddle upon a tall horse, and, with short legs hanging but an incon¬ 
 siderable distance toward the ground, rode gayly off with the others of 
 the President’s following until, after their night march from Abbeville, 
 South Carolina, across the Savannah River, sniffing the danger of longer 
 continuance with so large a party, he set out alone for the sea-coast, 
 whence he escaped (to Bermuda and Havana, I think, and finally) to 
 England. I am told that in his pocket, when he started, was a docu¬ 
 ment from one of the assistants to the adjutant-general of the army, 
 certifying the bearer to be a French citizen, entitled to travel without 
 hinderance, and ordering all Confederate officers and pickets to let him 
 pass freely; and that it was understood that if he should encounter in¬ 
 quisitive detachments of the United States forces, he was to be unable 
 to talk any other language than French, which he speaks like a native. 
 So long as he remained with us his cheery good humor, and readiness 
 to adapt himself to the requirements of all emergencies, made him a 
 most agreeable comrade. He is now a Queen’s Counsel in London, and 
 has just retired from the active work of a great and lucrative practice 
 in all the courts there, after a career of singular interest. He was born, 
 
 C 236 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 By good fortune, I was able to secure an ambulance; but 
 the horses were old and broken down, of a dirty gray color, 
 and with spots like fly-bites all over them,—and the har¬ 
 ness was not good. There was no choice, however, and 
 into that ambulance got Mr. Benjamin, General Samuel 
 Cooper (Adjutant General, and ranking officer of the 
 
 in 1812, in one of the British West India possessions, the ship, con¬ 
 veying his parents to this country from England, having put in there on 
 learning at sea of the declaration of war by the United States. At 
 Yale College when a boy; at the bar in New Orleans; in the Senate of 
 the United States, from Louisiana; at first attorney-general, next secre¬ 
 tary of war, and finally secretary of state of the Confederate States, 
 at Richmond. When lie was recently entertained at dinner, in the 
 beautiful Inner Temple Hall (surrounded by the portraits of the most 
 illustrious of those who have given dignity to the profession in the 
 past), the bench and bar of the United Kingdom were assembled to do 
 him special honor; about two hundred sat at the table; the Attorney- 
 General presided, as leader of the bar of England; the Lord Chancellor 
 and the Lord Chief Justice were among those who spoke to toasts, and 
 if there was any speech more graceful and striking than those made by 
 them, it was the reply of Mr. Benjamin himself, with singular modesty 
 and felicity, to the words of praise he had just heard from the eloquent 
 Attorney-General. Lord Chancellor Selborne then said of him: “If I 
 had to speak of Mr. Benjamin only as an English barrister, as I have 
 known him from the bench, I should say that no man, within my recol¬ 
 lection, has possessed greater learning, or displayed greater shrewdness 
 or ability, or greater zeal for the interests intrusted to him, than he 
 has exhibited. (Cheers.) To these high qualities he has united one 
 still higher—the highest sense of honor, united with the greatest kind¬ 
 ness and generosity (cheers), and the greatest geniality in his inter¬ 
 course with all the branches of the profession. (Loud cheers.) That 
 we should no longer have the benefit of his assistance and the light of 
 his example, is a loss to us all. (Cheers.)”—B. N. H. Mr. Davis 
 commented on this note as follows: “Mr. Benjamin did not leave us 
 at Abbeville, but went on horseback in the night ride we made across the 
 Savannah River, and at a house [where] we stopped for breakfast, about 
 fourteen miles from Washington, he told me he was suffering so much 
 from traveling on horseback that he felt he would be unable to continue 
 with me, and that he proposed to buy a gig from the man at whose 
 house we had stopped, and to go to the coast, where he would take the 
 first practicable mode of going to Matamoras or Tampico, and thence 
 proceed to join me in the Trans-Mississippi Department, whither he 
 knew it was my fixed purpose to go. He did expect to pass as a 
 Frenchman if he fell in with any of the enemy’s detachments, but of 
 course he had no certificate from the Adjutant-General, and indeed we 
 had no such officer then with us, General Cooper having been left sick 
 on the road.” 
 
 L 237 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 whole army), Mr. George Davis (of North Carolina, Attor¬ 
 ney-General), and Mr. Jnles St. Martin, Benjamin’s brother- 
 in-law. 
 
 By the time they got off, the front of our column had been 
 some time in motion, and the President had ridden down the 
 road. Heavy rains had recently fallen, the earth was satu¬ 
 rated with water, the soil was a sticky red clay, the mud was 
 awful, and the road, in places, almost impracticable. The 
 wheeled vehicles could move but slowly; and it was only by 
 sometimes turning into the fields and having St. Martin and 
 the Attorney-General get out to help the horses with an occa¬ 
 sional fence-rail under the axles, that their party got along 
 at all—so difficult was the road because of the mud, and so 
 formidable were the holes made during the winter, and 
 deepened by the artillery and heavy wagons that day. I was 
 near them from time to time, and rendered what assistance 
 I could. Darkness came on after awhile, and nearly or quite 
 everybody in the column passed ahead of that ambulance. 
 Having been kept latterly in the rear by something detaining 
 me, I observed, as I rode forward, the tilted hind-part of an 
 ambulance stuck in the mud in the middle of the road, and 
 recognized the voices inside, as I drew rein for a moment to 
 chuckle at their misfortunes. The horses were blowing like 
 two rusty fog-horns; Benjamin was scolding the driver for not 
 going on; that functionary was stoically insisting they could 
 proceed no whit further, because the horses were broken down; 
 and General Cooper (faithful old gentleman, he had been in 
 Richmond throughout our war, and had not known since the 
 Seminole war what it is to “rough it”) was grumbling 1 
 about the impudence of a subordinate officer (“only a briga¬ 
 dier-general, sir”). It seems the offender had thrust himself 
 into the seat in another ambulance drawn by good horses, 
 that was intended for the Adjutant-General. Getting along¬ 
 side, I could see the front wheels were over the hubs in a 
 hole; the hind legs of the horses were in the same hole 
 
 i The proof read, ‘ ‘ grumbling and swearing. ’ ’ Mr. Davis noted: 
 “Not swearing; he was pious and patient,’’ and, as a consequence, 
 Mr. Harrison struck out the “swearing.” 
 
 [ 238 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 up to the hocks; and the feet of the driver hung down 
 almost into the mud. Mud and water were deep all around 
 them, and their plight was pitiful indeed! They plucked 
 up their spirits only when I offered to get somebody to pull 
 them out. Riding forward, I found an artillery camp, where 
 some of the men volunteered to go back with horses and haul 
 the ambulance up the hill; and, returning to them again, I 
 could see from afar the occasional bright glow of Benjamin’s 
 cheerful cigar. While the others of the party were perfectly 
 silent, Benjamin’s silvery voice was presently heard as he 
 rhythmically intoned, for their comfort, verse after verse of 
 Tennyson’s ode on the death of the Duke of Wellington! 
 The laureate would have enjoyed the situation could he have 
 heard the appreciative rendering of his noble poem—under 
 the circumstances of that moment! 
 
 Reaching the house at the top of the hill, we halted on 
 hearing that the President and his party, including General 
 Breckinridge, were the guests of the hospitable owner, and 
 that we were expected to join them. There we had the first 
 good meal encountered since leaving Virginia, and when bed¬ 
 time came a great bustling was made to enable us all to sleep 
 within doors, though the house was too small to afford many 
 beds. A big negro man, with a candle in hand, then came 
 into the room where we were gathered about a huge fire. 
 Looking us over, he solemnly selected General Cooper, and, 
 with much deference, escorted him into the “guest-chamber” 
 through a door opening from the room we occupied. We 
 could see the great soft bed and snowy white linen the old 
 gentleman was to enjoy, and all rejoiced in the comfort they 
 promised to aged bones, that for a week had been racked in 
 the cars. The negro gravely shut the door upon his guest, 
 and, walking through our company, disappeared. He came 
 back after awhile with wood for our fire; and one of us asked 
 him, “Are n’t you going to give the President a room?” 
 “Yes, sir, I done put him in thar,” pointing to the “guest- 
 chamber, ’ ’ where General Cooper was luxuriating in delights 
 procured for him by the mistaken notion of the darky that 
 he was Mr. Davis! The President and one or two others were 
 
 C 239 3 
 
AE1S SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 presently provided for elsewhere, and the rest of us bestowed 
 ourselves to slumber on the floor, before the roaring fire. 
 
 A better team for Benjamin’s party was furnished next 
 morning; and, just as we were about to start, our host gener¬ 
 ously insisted upon presenting to Mr. Davis a filly, already 
 broken to saddle. She was a beauty, and the owner had kept 
 her locked for several days in the cellar, the only place he 
 considered safe against horse-thieves. 
 
 The next night we bivouacked in a pine grove near Lex¬ 
 ington, and were overtaken there by dispatches from Gen¬ 
 eral Joseph E. Johnston, with information of his arrange¬ 
 ment for negotiations with General Sherman. General 
 Breckinridge and Mr. Reagan (the Postmaster-General) were 
 thereupon directed by the President to proceed immediately 
 to General Johnston’s head-quarters for consultation with 
 that officer, and with large discretion as to what should be 
 agreed to. They set off instantly. 
 
 In Lexington and in Salisbury we experienced the same 
 cold indifference on the part of the people, first encountered 
 at Greensboro’, except that at Salisbury Mr. Davis was in¬ 
 vited to the house of a clergyman, where he slept. Salisbury 
 had been entered a few days before by a column of the 
 enemy’s cavalry (said to be Stoneman’s), and the streets 
 showed many evidences of the havoc they had wrought. With 
 one or two others, I passed the night on the clergyman’s 
 front piazza as a guard for the President. 
 
 During all this march Mr. Davis was singularly equable 
 and cheerful; he seemed to have had a great load taken from 
 his mind, to feel relieved of responsibilities, and his conversa¬ 
 tion was bright and agreeable. He talked of men and of 
 books, particularly of Walter Scott and Byron; of horses 
 and dogs and sports; of the woods and the fields; of trees 
 and many plants; of roads, and how to make them; of the 
 habits of birds, and of a variety of other topics. His famil¬ 
 iarity with, and correct taste in, the English literature of 
 the last generation, his varied experiences in life, his habits 
 of close observation, and his extraordinary memory, made 
 him a charming companion when disposed to talk. 
 
 n 240:1 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 Indeed, like Mark Tapley, we were all in good spirits 
 under adverse circumstances; and I particularly remember 
 the entertaining conversation of Mr. Mallory, the Secretary 
 of the Navy. 
 
 Not far from Charlotte, I sent forward a courier with a 
 letter to Major Echols, the quartermaster of that post, asking 
 him to inform Mrs. Davis of our approach, and to provide 
 quarters for as many of us as possible. The major rode out 
 to the outskirts of the town, and there met us with the in¬ 
 formation that Mrs. Davis and her family had hastily pro¬ 
 ceeded toward South Carolina several days before. He 
 did n’t know where she was to be found; but said she had 
 fled when the railway south of Greensboro’ had been cut by 
 the enemy’s cavalry. The major then took me aside and ex¬ 
 plained that, though quarters could be furnished for the rest 
 of us, he had as yet been able to find only one person willing 
 to receive Mr. Davis, saying the people generally were afraid 
 that whoever entertained him would have his house burned 
 by the enemy; that, indeed, it was understood threats to that 
 effect had been made everywhere by Stoneman’s cavalry. 
 
 There seemed to be nothing to do but to go to the one 
 domicile offered. It was on the main street of the town, and 
 was occupied by Mr. Bates, a man said to be of northern 
 birth, a bachelor of convivial habits, the local agent of the 
 Southern Express Company, apparently living alone with 
 his negro servants, and keeping a sort of “open house,” 
 where a broad, well equipped sideboard was the most con¬ 
 spicuous feature of the situation—not at all a seemly place 
 for Mr. Davis. 
 
 Just as we had entered the house, Mr. Davis received by 
 courier from General Breckinridge, at General Sherman’s 
 headquarters, the intelligence that President Lincoln had been 
 assassinated; and, when he communicated it to us, everybody’s 
 remark was that, in Lincoln, the Southern States had lost 
 their only refuge in their then emergency. There was no 
 expression other than of surprise and regret. As yet, we 
 knew none of the particulars of the crime. 
 
 Presently, the street was filled by a column of cavalry 
 
 [2411] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 (the command, I think, of General Basil Duke, of Kentucky) 
 just entering the town. As they rode past the house, the 
 men waved their flags and hurrahed for “Jefferson Davis.” 
 Many of them halted before the door, and, in dust and up¬ 
 roar, called loudly for a speech from him. I was in the 
 crowd, gathered thick about the steps, and not more than ten 
 feet from the door. Mr. Davis stood on the threshold and 
 made a very brief reply to their calls for a speech. I dis¬ 
 tinctly heard every word he said. He merely thanked the 
 soldiers for their cordial greetings; paid a high compliment 
 to the gallantry and efficiency of the cavalry from the State 
 in which the regiment before him had been recruited; ex¬ 
 pressed his own determination not to despair of the Con¬ 
 federacy, but to remain with the last organized band uphold¬ 
 ing the flag; and then excused himself from further remarks, 
 pleading the fatigue of travel. He said nothing more. Some¬ 
 body else (Mr. Johnson, I think, a prominent resident there) 
 read aloud the dispatch from General Breckinridge about the 
 assassination of President Lincoln, but no reference was 
 made to it in Mr. Davis’s speech. There was no other speech, 
 and the crowd soon dispersed . 1 
 
 Colonel John Taylor Wood, Colonel William Preston John¬ 
 ston, and Colonel Prank R. Lubbock, staff officers, remained 
 in Bates’s house with the President. There was no room for 
 more. I was carried off by my Hebrew friend Weil and most 
 
 i In pursuance of the scheme of Stanton and Holt to fasten upon Mr. 
 Davis charges of a guilty foreknowledge of, if not participation in, the 
 murder of Mr. Lincoln, Bates was afterward carried to Washington 
 and made to testify (before the military tribunal, I believe, where the 
 murderers were on trial) to something about that speech. 
 
 As I recollect the reports of the testimony, published at the time, they 
 made the witness say that Mr. Davis had approved of the assassination, 
 either explicitly or by necessary implication; and that he had added, 
 “If it was to be done, it is well it was done quickly,” or words to 
 that effect. If any such testimony was given, it is false and without 
 foundation; no comment upon or reference to the assassination was 
 made in that speech. I have been told the witness has always stoutly 
 insisted he never testified to anything of the kind, but that what he said 
 was altogether perverted in the publication made by rascals in Wash- 
 
 [242] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 kindly entertained, with Mr. Benjamin and St. Martin, at 
 his residence. 
 
 On Sunday (the next day, I think), a number of us at¬ 
 tended service at the Episcopal Church, and heard the rector 
 preach vigorously about the sad condition of the country, 
 and in reprobation of the folly and wickedness of the assas¬ 
 sination of President Lincoln. As Mr. Davis walked away, 
 after the sermon, with Colonel Johnston and me, he said, 
 with a smile, “I think the preacher directed his remarks at 
 me; and he really seems to fancy I had something to do with 
 the assassination.” The suggestion was absurd. No man 
 ever participated in a great war of revolution with less of 
 disturbance of the nicest sense of perfect rectitude in con¬ 
 duct or opinion; his every utterance, act, and sentiment was 
 with the strictest regard for all the moralities, throughout 
 that troubled time when the passions of many people made 
 them reckless or defiant of the opinions of mankind. 
 
 His cheerfulness continued in Charlotte, and I remember 
 his there saying to me, 1 ‘ I cannot feel like a beaten man! ’ ’ 
 The halt at Charlotte was to await information from the 
 army of General Johnston. After a few days, the President 
 became nervously anxious about his wife and family. He 
 had as yet heard nothing of their whereabouts, but asked me 
 to proceed into South Carolina in search of them, suggesting 
 that I should probably find them at Abbeville. He told me 
 I must rely on my own judgment as to what course to pursue 
 
 ington. Colonel William Preston Johnston tells me he has seen another 
 version of the story, and thinks Bates is understood to have fathered it 
 in a publication made in some newspaper after his visit to Washington; 
 it represents Bates as saying that the words above mentioned as im¬ 
 puted to Mr. Davis were used by him, not, indeed, in the speech I have 
 described, but in a conversation with Johnston at Bates’s house. 
 Johnston assures me that, in that shape, too, the story is false—that 
 Mr. Davis never used such words in his presence, or any words at all 
 like them. He adds that Mr. Davis remarked to him, at Bates’s house, 
 with reference to the assassination, that Mr. Lincoln would have been 
 much more useful to the Southern States than Andrew Johnson, the 
 successor, was likely to be; and I myself heard Mr. Davis express the 
 same opinion at that period.—B. N. H. 
 
 [ 243 ;] 
 
ARIS SONTS FOCISQUE 
 
 from there; that, for himself, he should make his way as rap¬ 
 idly as possible to the Trans-Mississippi Department, to join 
 the army under Kirby Smith. 
 
 I started at once, taking my horse on the railway train to 
 Chester. On the train chanced to be Captain Lingan, an 
 officer from New Orleans, recently serving at Richmond as 
 an assistant to the commissioner for the exchange of prison¬ 
 ers. He had his horse with him, and from Chester we rode 
 together across the country to Newberry, there to take the 
 train again for Abbeville. In Chester the night was spent 
 in the car that brought us there. On the march to Newberry 
 we bivouacked. The weather was fine, and the houses sur¬ 
 rounded by jessamines and other flowers. The people were 
 very hospitable, and we fain to rely upon them. Nothing 
 could be bought, because we had no money. Our Confederate 
 currency was of no value now, and there was no other. Rid¬ 
 ing through a street of Newberry in search of the quarter¬ 
 master’s stable, Lingan and I were saluted by a lady, inquir¬ 
 ing eagerly whence we had come, what the news was, and 
 whether we knew anything of Mr. Trenholm, adding she had 
 heard he was ill. The town was lovely, and this the most 
 attractive house we had seen there. It had a broad piazza, 
 with posts beautifully overgrown by vines and rose-bushes, 
 and the grounds around were full of flowers. I replied I had 
 just left Mr. Trenholm in Charlotte; that he had somewhat 
 recovered; and that, if she would allow us to do so, we should 
 be happy to return, after providing for our horses, and tell 
 her the latest news. As we rode off, Lingan laughingly said, 
 “Well, that secures us ‘hospitable entertainment.’ ” And, 
 sure enough, when we went back and introduced ourselves, 
 we were cordially received by the mistress of the house, who 
 invited us to dine. The lady we had seen on the piazza was 
 only a visitor there for the moment. It was the residence of 
 Mr. Boyd, the president of a bank, and when that gentleman 
 presently came in he courteously insisted upon our making 
 his house our home. An excellent dinner was served, and I 
 was given what seemed to me the most delightful bed ever 
 slept in. After a delicious breakfast next morning, Mrs. 
 
 £ 244 ] 
 
THE CAPTUEE OF JEFFEESON DAVIS 
 
 Boyd dispatched us to the train with a haversack full of 
 bounties for the rest of the journey. 
 
 At Abbeville, Mrs. Davis and her family were the guests 
 of the President’s esteemed friends, Colonel and Mrs. Burt; 
 and there, too, were the daughters of Mr. Trenholm, at the 
 house of their brother. Abbeville was a beautiful place, on 
 high ground; and the people lived in great comfort, their 
 houses embowered in vines and roses, with many other flow¬ 
 ers everywhere. We had now entered the “sunny South.” 
 
 Mrs. Davis insisted upon starting without delay for the 
 sea-coast, to get out of the reach of capture. She and her 
 sister had heard dreadful stories of the treatment ladies had 
 been subjected to in Georgia and the Carolinas by men in 
 Sherman’s army, and thought with terror of the possibility 
 of falling into the hands of the enemy; indeed, she under¬ 
 stood it to be the President’s wish that she should hasten to 
 seek safety in a foreign country. I explained to her the 
 difficulties and hardships of the journey to the sea-coast, and 
 suggested that we might be captured on the road, urging her 
 to remain where she was until the place should be quietly 
 occupied by United States troops, assuring her that some 
 officer would take care that no harm should befall her, and 
 adding that she would then be able to rejoin her friends. 
 Colonel and Mrs. Burt (a niece of John C. Calhoun) added 
 their entreaties to mine; and to her expression of unwilling¬ 
 ness to subject them to the danger of having their house 
 burned for sheltering her, Colonel Burt magnanimously re¬ 
 plied that there was no better use to which his house could be 
 put than to have it burned for giving shelter to the wife and 
 family of his friend. But she persisted in her purpose, and 
 begged me to be off immediately. It was finally decided to 
 make our way to the neighborhood of Madison, Florida, as 
 fast as possible, there to determine how best to get to sea . 1 
 
 i ‘ ‘ When Mrs. Davis parted from me the event which rapidly fol¬ 
 lowed was certainly not anticipated, but, looking to every possible con¬ 
 tingency, I had impressed upon her that she should not allow herself 
 and our children to be captured, and afterward wrote to her not to 
 delay anywhere, but hasten on to the sea-coast and seek safety in a 
 
 C245] 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 We liad no conveyance for the ladies, however, and were 
 at a loss how to get one, until somebody told me that General 
 John S. Williams, of Kentucky (now United States Senator 
 from that State), was but a few miles from the town recruit¬ 
 ing his health, and that he had a large and strong vehicle 
 well adapted to the purpose. I rode out in the direction 
 indicated, and discovered that officer at the house of a man 
 called, queerly enough, “Jeff” Davis. General Williams evi¬ 
 dently perceived that, if he allowed his wagon and horses 
 (a fortune in those times) to go beyond his own reach, he 
 would never see them again, such was the disorder through¬ 
 out the country. But he gallantly devoted them to Mrs. 
 Davis, putting his property at her service as far as Washing¬ 
 ton, Georgia, and designating the man to bring the wagon 
 and horses back from there, if possible, to him at Abbeville. 
 Whether he ever recovered them I have not learned; but 
 they started back promptly after we had reached Washing¬ 
 ton. 
 
 Among the “refugees” in Abbeville was the family of 
 Judge Monroe, of Kentucky. At their house were Lieutenant 
 Hathaway, Mr. Monroe, and Mr. Messick,—Kentuckians all, 
 and then absent from their command in the cavalry, on sick 
 leave, I think. These three young gentlemen were well 
 mounted, and volunteered to serve as an escort for Mrs. 
 Davis. 
 
 We started the morning of the second day after I ar¬ 
 rived at Abbeville, and had not reached the Savannah River 
 when it was reported that small-pox prevailed in the country. 
 All the party had been vaccinated except one of the Presi¬ 
 dent’s children. Halting at a house near the road, Mrs. 
 
 foreign country. At Abbeville she was the guest of our esteemed friends, 
 Colonel and Mrs. Burt. She had heard of threats made by the enemy 
 that any house which gave shelter to myself or family should be burned; 
 she was unwilling to expose our friends, the Burts, to such possible 
 loss, and gave to them that reason for declining their invitation to 
 remain in their house. Colonel Burt magnanimously said there was no 
 better use to which his house could be put than to [be] burned for 
 giving shelter to my family. ”—J. D. 
 
 C246] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 Davis had the operation performed by the planter, who got 
 a fresh scab from the arm of a little negro called up for the 
 purpose. 
 
 At Washington, we halted for two nights and the inter¬ 
 vening day. Mrs. Davis and her family were comfortably 
 lodged in the town. I was the guest of Dr. Robertson, the 
 cashier of a bank, and living under the same roof with the 
 offices of that institution. Here, too, was my friend Major 
 Thomas W. Hall (now a busy and eminent member of the 
 Baltimore bar), talking rather despondingly of the future, 
 and saying he did not know what he should do with himself. 
 After we had discussed the situation, however, he brightened 
 up, with the remark that he thought he should write a book 
 about the war. I comforted him with the observation that 
 that would be just the thing; and that, as we ought all to 
 have a steady occupation in life, if he would write a book, 
 I should try to read it! 
 
 Near the town was a quartermaster’s camp, where I se¬ 
 lected three or four army wagons, each with a team of four 
 good mules, and the best harness to be got. A driver for 
 each team, and several supernumeraries, friends of theirs, 
 were recruited there, with the promise, on my part, that the 
 wagons and mules should be divided between them when at 
 our journey’s end. These men were all, I believe, from 
 southern Mississippi, and, by volunteering with us, were 
 not going far out of their own way home. 
 
 It was night-fall when these arrangements were completed, 
 and I immediately moved my teams and wagons to a separate 
 bivouac in the woods, apart; a wise precaution, for, during 
 the night, some men, on the way to their homes in the far 
 South-west, “raided” the quartermaster’s camp and carried 
 off all the best mules found there. Senator Wigfall, of Texas, 
 had allowed to remain in the camp some mules he intended 
 for his own use; the next day they were all missing . 1 
 
 1 A story told afterward well illustrates Wigfall’s audacity, resources, 
 and wit. It seems that he made his way as best he could to Vicksburg, 
 and there, mingling with a large number of paroled soldiers returning 
 to the Trans-Mississippi, and having in his pocket a borrowed “parole 
 
 n247] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Into the wagons, next morning, we put Mrs. Davis’s lug¬ 
 gage, a few muskets with ammunition, two light tents for the 
 ladies and children, and utensils for cooking, with supplies 
 for ourselves and feed for the animals supposed to be sufficient 
 to take us to Madison. As most of the country we were to 
 pass through had been recently devastated by Sherman’s 
 army, or was pine woods, sparsely inhabited, these things 
 were necessary. 
 
 We had expected to leave Washington with only the party 
 we arrived with, consisting of Mrs. Davis, Miss Howell, the 
 four children, Ellen, James Jones with the two carriage 
 horses, the three Kentuckians, and myself,—adding only the 
 teamsters. But, at Washington we were acceptably re¬ 
 enforced by Captain Moody, of Port Gibson, Mississippi, and 
 Major Victor Maurin, of Louisiana. Both had served with 
 the artillery in Virginia, had been home on leave, and had 
 reached Augusta, Georgia, on their return to duty. Hearing 
 there of the surrender of the army, they set out for home 
 together, and met us at Washington, where Captain Moody 
 kindly placed his light, covered wagon at the service of Mrs. 
 Davis; and he and Major Maurin joined our party as an ad¬ 
 ditional escort for her. Captain Moody had with him, I think, 
 a negro servant. 
 
 In Washington, at that time, were Judge Crump, of Rich¬ 
 mond (Assistant Secretary of the Treasury), and several of 
 his clerks. They had been sent by Mr. Trenholm in advance, 
 with some of the (not very large amount of) gold brought 
 out of Richmond. The specie was in the vaults of the bank 
 at Washington, and I did not hear of it until late at night. 
 We were to start in the morning; and, as nobody in our party 
 had a penny of the money needed to prosecute the intended 
 
 paper, ’ ’ certifying the bearer to be “ Private Smith, ’ ’ availed himself 
 of the transportation furnished by the United States quartermaster to 
 such prisoners, by steam-boat, I think, to Shreveport. On the voyage 
 he had a discussion with some of the guard as to what should be done 
 by the Government with the secession leaders. “And as to Wigfall,” 
 said one of the men, in excitement, “if we catch him, we shall hang 
 him immediately.” “There I agree with you,” remarked Private 
 Smith, “ ’t would serve him right; and, if I were there, I should be 
 pulling at the end of that rope myself! ”—B. N. H. 
 
 C2483 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAYIS 
 
 exit from the country, I was determined to get some of that 
 gold. 
 
 One of the Treasury clerks went with me to the house 
 where Judge Crump was; we got him out of bed; and, after a 
 long argument and much entreaty, the Assistant Secretary 
 gave me an order for a few hundred dollars in gold for Mrs. 
 Davis, and one hundred and ten dollars for myself. The 
 amounts were to be charged to the President and me, as 
 upon account of our official salaries. Armed with the order, 
 my friend the clerk got the money for us that night. 
 
 The last two people I talked to in Washington were Gen¬ 
 eral Robert Toombs, who resides there, and General Hum¬ 
 phrey Marshall, of Kentucky. 
 
 The latter was enormously fat. He had been in public life 
 for many years, and was one of the notables of his State. As 
 I waited while my horse was shod, he sat down beside me in a 
 door-way on the Square, and, though I was but a slender 
 youth, almost squeezed the breath out of my body in doing 
 so. He discussed the situation, and ended w T ith, “Well, Har¬ 
 rison, in all my days I never knew a government to go to 
 pieces in this way,” emphasizing the words as though his 
 pathway through life had been strewed with the wrecks of 
 empires, comminuted indeed, but nothing like this! The 
 next time I saw him, we were in New Orleans, in March, 
 1866. He told me of his adventures in escaping from Georgia 
 across the Mississippi River. The waters were in overflow, 
 and made the distance to be rowed, where he crossed, a num¬ 
 ber of miles. He said he was in a “ dug-out ” (a boat made of a 
 single large log, with a cylindrical bottom and easily upset), 
 and that the boatman made him lie down, for fear they 
 might be seen by the enemy and he recognized by his great 
 size, and so captured. All went well until the mosquitoes 
 swarmed on him, and nearly devoured him in his fear of 
 capsizing if he ventured to adopt effective measures to beat 
 them off! In this connection, I remember that, when Mar¬ 
 shall commanded a brigade in the mountains of East Ten¬ 
 nessee and Kentucky, he was warned that the mountaineers, 
 Union men, all knew him because of his size, and that some 
 sharp-shooter would be sure to single him out and pick him 
 
 C2493 
 
AEIS SONTS FOCISQUE 
 
 off. He replied: ‘ 1 Ah ! but I have taken precautions agaiust 
 that. I have a fat staff! There be six Richmonds in the 
 field!” 
 
 As I rode out of Washington to overtake my wagons, then 
 already started, I saw General Toombs, and sung out ‘ ‘ Good¬ 
 bye” to him. He was dressed in an ill-cut black Websterian 
 coat, the worse for wear, and had on a broad-brimmed shabby 
 hat. Standing beside an old buggy, drawn by two ancient 
 gray horses, he told me he was going to Crawfordsville to 
 have a talk with “Aleck” Stephens (the Vice-President) ; 
 and, as I left, the atmosphere was murky with blasphemies 
 and with denunciations of the Yankees! He had been in¬ 
 formed of a detachment of the enemy’s cavalry said to be 
 already on the way to capture him, and was about to start 
 for the sea-coast. The next time I saw him, he was at the 
 “Theatre du Chatelet,” in Paris, in August or September, 
 1866. The spectacle was one of the most splendid ever put 
 upon the stage there, and the French people were in rap¬ 
 tures over the dazzling beauty of the scene. Toombs, fash¬ 
 ionably dressed, sat in an orchestra chair, regarding it all 
 with the stolid composure of an Indian, and with an expres¬ 
 sion of countenance suggesting that he had a thousand times 
 seen spectacles more brilliant in Washington, Georgia. 
 
 From Washington we went along the road running due 
 south. We had told nobody our plans; though, starting as 
 we did, in the broad light of the forenoon, everybody saw, of 
 course, the direction taken. Our teamsters were instructed 
 not to say anything, to anybody whatever, as to who we were 
 or whence we came or whither we were going. They were all 
 old soldiers and obeyed orders. It frequently amused me to 
 hear their replies to the country people, during the next few 
 days, when questioned on these matters. 
 
 ‘ ‘ Who is that lady ? ’ ’ 
 
 “Mrs. Jones.” 
 
 “Where did you come from?” 
 
 “Up the road.” 
 
 1 ‘ Where are you going to ? ” 
 
 “Down the road a bit,” etc., etc. 
 
 [ 250 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAYIS 
 
 We liad not proceeded far when a gentleman of the town, 
 riding rapidly, overtook us with a letter from the President 
 to his wife. It had been written at York, South Carolina, 
 I think; was forwarded by courier to overtake us at Abbe¬ 
 ville, and had reached Washington just after we started. It 
 merely informed us that he and his immediate party were 
 well, and that he should probably ride south from Washing¬ 
 ton 1 to cross the Mississippi, if possible. I think no reply 
 was made by Mrs. Davis to the letter; and, if my memory 
 serves me, we left behind us nothing to advise the President 
 as to where we were going. 
 
 That afternoon I was overcome with dysentery and a low 
 fever, and dropped behind for a time, to lie down. When I 
 overtook the party, they had already gone into camp; and, 
 after giving my horse to one of the men, I had hardly 
 strength enough to climb into a wagon, there to pass the 
 night. 
 
 The next day we made a long march, and had halted for 
 the night in a pine grove, just after crossing a railway track, 
 when several visitors sauntered into our camp. Presently, 
 one of the teamsters informed me that, while watering his 
 mules near by, he had been told an attempt would be made 
 during the night to carry off our mules and wagons, and that 
 the visitors were of the party to make the attack. A council 
 of war was held immediately, and we were discussing mea¬ 
 sures of resistance, when Captain Moody went off for a per¬ 
 sonal parley with the enemy. He returned to me with the 
 news that the leader of the party was a fellow-Freemason, a 
 Mississippian, and apparently not a bad sort of person. We 
 agreed he had better be informed who we were, relying upon 
 
 1 Mr. Harrison had written that Mr. Davis intended to ‘ ‘ ride South 
 from Washington to the Coast.” Mr. Davis noted: “Cross the Mis¬ 
 sissippi, if possible.” “The publication made some time since by 
 Judge Reagan refers to the story about my purpose to escape from the 
 seacoast, and answers it by a reference to a conversation he had with 
 me in which I told him I would not leave Confederate soil as long as 
 there were any Confederate soldiers asserting our cause and told how 
 the opposite conduct of Kossuth had caused me when in the Senate to 
 vote against giving him the privileges of the floor. ’ ’ —J. D. 
 
 C 251 2 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 liim not to allow an attack upon us after learning that Mrs. 
 Davis and her children were of the party. Captain Moody 
 made that communication in the confidence of Freemasonry, 
 and the gallant Robin Hood immediately approached Mrs. 
 Davis in all courtesy, apologized for having caused her any 
 alarm, assured her she should not be disturbed, and said the 
 raid had been arranged only because it had been supposed 
 we were the party of some quartermasters from Milledge- 
 ville, making off with wagons and mules to which he and his 
 men considered their own title as good as that of anybody 
 else. He then left our camp, remarking, however, that, to 
 intercept any attempt at escape during the night, he had 
 already dispatched some of his men to the cross-roads, some 
 distance below, and that we might be halted by them there 
 in the morning; but, to provide for that emergency, he wrote 
 and delivered to Captain Moody a formal ‘ ‘ order, ’ ’ entitling 
 us to “pass” his outposts at the cross-roads! The next morn¬ 
 ing, when we reached the cross-roads, some men were there, 
 evidently intending to intercept us; hut—as all the gentle¬ 
 men of our party were in the saddle, and we appeared to be 
 ready for them—there was no challenge, and we got by with¬ 
 out recourse to Robin Hood’s “pass.” 
 
 About the second or third day after that, we were pursued 
 by another party; and one of our teamsters, riding a short 
 distance in the rear of the wagons on the horse of one of the 
 Kentuckians,—the owner having exchanged temporarily for 
 one of the carriage horses, I think,—was attacked, made to 
 dismount, and robbed of his horse, with the information that 
 all the other horses and the mules would be taken during the 
 night. By running a mile or two, the teamster overtook us. 
 It was decided, of course, to prepare for an effective defense. 
 As night came on, we turned off into a side road, and reach¬ 
 ing a piece of high ground in the open pine woods, well 
 adapted for our needs, halted—corralling the animals within 
 a space inclosed by the wagons (arranged with the tongue of 
 one wagon fastened by chains or ropes to the tail of another) 
 and placing pickets. About the middle of the night, I, with two 
 
 £252 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 teamsters, constituted the picket on the road running north. 
 After awhile we heard the soft tread of horses in the dark¬ 
 ness approaching over the light, sandy soil of the road. 1 The 
 teamsters immediately ran off to arouse the camp, having no 
 doubt the attack was about to begin. I placed myself in the 
 road to detain the enemy as long as possible, and, when the 
 advancing horsemen came near enough to hear me, called 
 “Halt.” They drew rein instantly. I demanded “Who 
 comes there?” The foremost of the horsemen replied 
 “Friends,” in a voice I was astonished to recognize as that 
 of President Davis, not suspecting he was anywhere near us. 
 
 His party then consisted of Colonel William Preston 
 Johnston, Colonel John Taylor Wood, Colonel Frank R. 
 Lubbock, Mr. Reagan, Colonel Charles E. Thorburn (the 
 latter, with a negro servant, had joined them at Greensboro’, 
 North Carolina), and Robert (Mr. Davis’s own servant). 
 Some scouts were scattered through the country, and were 
 reporting to the President from time to time; but I don’t 
 recollect that either of them was with him on the occasion 
 now referred to. 
 
 He had happened to join us at all only because some of his 
 staff had heard in the afternoon, from a man on the road-side, 
 that an attempt was to be made in the night to capture the 
 wagons, horses, and mules of a party said to be going south on 
 a road to the eastward. The man spoke of the party to be at¬ 
 tacked in terms that seemed to identify us, as we had been 
 described in Washington. The President immediately re- 
 
 i “Just before daybreak, as the moon was setting below the tops of 
 the trees, a party of men on foot, with bridles in their hands, and a 
 short distance from our encampment, was met by the President and 
 the members of his staff, and upon being questioned said they belonged 
 to an Alabama regiment; that they had been to a village in the neigh¬ 
 borhood and were going back to join their own company. They ad¬ 
 mitted they had passed an encampment where there were several wagons 
 and asked if we belonged to that party. Upon being answered in the 
 affirmative, they probably thought that with that reinforcement to your 
 party they thought [sic] it was useless to wait for the moon to go down 
 that they might in darkness rob your encampment. ’ ’ —J. D. 
 
 C 253 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 solved to find us, 1 and, turning to the east from liis own 
 route, rode until after midnight before he overtook us. He 
 explained to us, at the time, how he had tried several roads 
 in the search, and had ridden an estimated distance of sixty 
 miles since mounting in the morning; and said he came to 
 assist in beating off the persons threatening the attack. 
 As we had camped some distance from the main road, he 
 would have passed to the westward of our position, and 
 would probably have had no communication with us and no 
 tidings whatever of us, but for the chance remark about the 
 threatened raid upon our animals. The expected attack was 
 not made. 
 
 The President remained with us the rest of that night, 
 rode with us the next day, camped with us the following 
 night, and, after breakfast the day after that, bade us good¬ 
 bye and rode forward with his own party, leaving us, in 
 
 i ‘ ‘ Secretary Reagan’s horse had cast a shoe. In passing a black¬ 
 smith about noon, we stopped to give our horses some rest and have 
 that one reshod. There we learned from the landlord that some 
 pillagers had started after a party that had some fine horses, wagons, 
 and mules. With these particulars we made it quite certain they 
 referred to the party of Mrs. Davis. We could not learn what road 
 your party was on or anything which enabled us to tell with any 
 certainty how far you might be. We, however, started promptly in 
 pursuit, judging our direction to the eastward, and rode rapidly on, 
 taking all easterly roads in search of one on which the wagon-tracks 
 could be seen until about midnight, when we came upon a large party 
 representing themselves to be paroled soldiers. They were about to 
 cross a ferry, and as you had not been seen or heard of there, I turned 
 then square to the East on a bridle-path which it was said would lead 
 to a wagon-road in that direction; and here the Captain of my Guard 
 announced his horses too much exhausted to go any further. I could 
 not wait and started off; my staff and servant followed me. After 
 riding about eight or ten miles, I came upon your encampment as de¬ 
 scribed by you, having ridden without drawing rein an estimated 
 distance of sixty miles. After traveling several days with you, I con¬ 
 cluded that we had gone far enough to the South and East to be free 
 from the dangers of marauders, and resolved to resume my original 
 route to the West, having with that view sent the Captain of my Guard 
 and one of the men to reconnoiter to the West so as to learn whether 
 [there was] any expedition of the enemy in that direction.”—J. D. 
 
 [ 254 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 deference to our earnest solicitations, to pursue our journey 
 as best we might with our wagons and incumbrances. 
 
 He camped that night with his own party at Abbeville, 
 Georgia, personally occupying a deserted house in the out¬ 
 skirts of the village. As they had reached that place after 
 dark, and a furious rain was falling, but few of the people 
 were aware of his presence, and nobody in the village had 
 had opportunity to identify him. 
 
 I halted my party on the western bank of the Ocmulgee 
 River as the darkness came on, immediately after getting the 
 wagons through the difficult bottom-lands on the eastern side, 
 and after crossing the ferry. About the middle of the night 
 I was aroused by a courier sent back by the President with 
 the report that the enemy was at or near Hawkinsville 
 (about twenty-five miles to the north of us), and the advice 
 that I had better move on at once to the southward, though, 
 it was added, the enemy at Hawkinsville seemed to be only 
 intent upon appropriating the quartermaster’s supplies sup¬ 
 posed to be there. I started my party promptly, in the midst 
 of a terrible storm of thunder, lightning, and rain. As we 
 passed through the village of Abbeville, I dismounted and 
 had a conversation with the President in the old house, where 
 he was lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He urged 
 me to move on, and said he should overtake us during 
 the night, after his horses had had more rest. We kept to the 
 southward all night, the rain pouring in torrents most of the 
 time, and the darkness such that, as we went through the 
 woods where the road was not well marked, in a light, sandy 
 soil, but wound about to accommodate the great pines left 
 standing, the wagons were frequently stopped by fallen trees 
 and other obstructions. In such a situation, we were obliged 
 to wait until a flash of lightning enabled the drivers to see 
 the way. 
 
 In the midst of that storm and darkness the President over¬ 
 took us. He was still with us when, about five o’clock in 
 the afternoon (not having stopped since leaving Abbeville, 
 except for the short time, about sunrise, required to cook 
 breakfast), I halted my party for the night, immediately 
 
 L 255 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 after crossing the little creek just north of Irwinville, and 
 went into camp. My teams were sadly in need of rest, and 
 having now about fifty miles between us and Hawkinsville, 
 where the enemy had been reported to be, and our informa¬ 
 tion being, as stated, that they did not seem to be on the 
 march or likely to move after us, we apprehended no imme¬ 
 diate danger. That country is sparsely inhabited, and I do 
 not recollect that we had seen a human being after leaving 
 Abbeville. Colonel Johnston says that he rode on in advance 
 as far as Irwinville, and there found somebody from whom 
 he bought some eggs. 
 
 Colonel Thorburn had been, before the war, in the United 
 States navy, and was, I think, a classmate of Colonel Wood 
 in the Naval Academy at Annapolis. During the first year 
 or two of the war he had served in the army; he afterward 
 became engaged in running the blockade, bringing supplies 
 into the Confederate States. He says he had a small but sea¬ 
 worthy vessel then lying in Indian River, Florida; that his 
 object in joining the party had been to take the President 
 aboard that vessel and convey him thence around to Texas, 
 in case the attempt to get across the Mississippi should for 
 any reason fail or seem unadvisable; and that Colonel Wood 
 and he had arranged that he should, at the proper time, ride 
 on in advance, make all the necessary arrangements for the 
 voyage, and return to Madison, Florida, to await the Presi¬ 
 dent there and conduct him aboard the vessel, if necessary. 
 We had all now agreed that, if the President was to attempt 
 to reach the Trans-Mississippi at all, by whatever route, he 
 should move on at once, independent of the ladies and 
 wagons. And when we halted he positively promised me (and 
 AVood and Thorburn tell me he made the same promise to 
 them) that, as soon as something to eat could be cooked, he 
 would say farewell, for the last time, and ride on with his 
 own party, at least ten miles farther before stopping for the 
 night, consenting to leave me and my party to go on our own 
 way as fast as was possible with the now weary mules. 
 
 After getting that promise from the President, and arrang¬ 
 ing the tents and wagons for the night, and without waiting 
 
 C 256 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 for anything to eat (being still the worse for my dysentery 
 and fever), I lay down upon the ground and fell into a pro¬ 
 found sleep. Captain Moody afterward kindly stretched a 
 canvas as a roof over my head, and laid down beside me, 
 though I knew nothing of that until the next day. I was 
 awakened by the coachman, James Jones, running to me 
 about day-break with the announcement that the enemy was 
 at hand! I sprang to my feet, and in an instant a rattling 
 fire of musketry commenced on the north side of the creek. 
 Almost at the same moment Colonel Pritchard and his regi¬ 
 ment charged up the road from the south upon us. As soon 
 as one of them came within range, I covered him with my 
 revolver and was about to fire, but lowered the weapon when 
 I perceived the attacking column was so strong as to make 
 resistance useless, and reflected that, by killing the man, I 
 should certainly not be helping ourselves, and might only 
 provoke a general firing upon the members of our party in 
 sight. We were taken by surprise, and not one of us ex¬ 
 changed a shot with the enemy. Colonel Johnston tells me 
 he was the first prisoner taken. In a moment, Colonel 
 Pritchard rode directly to me and, pointing across the creek, 
 said, ‘ ‘ What does that mean ? Have you any men with you ? ’ ’ 
 Supposing the firing was done by our teamsters, I replied, 
 “Of course we have—don’t you hear the firing?” He seemed 
 to be nettled at the reply, gave the order, “Charge,” and 
 boldly led the way himself across the creek, nearly every man 
 in his command following. Our camp was thus left deserted 
 for a few minutes, except by one mounted soldier near Mrs. 
 Davis’s tent (who was afterward said to have been stationed 
 there by Colonel Pritchard in passing) 1 and by the few 
 troopers who stopped to plunder our wagons. I had been 
 sleeping upon the same side of the road with the tent occu¬ 
 pied by Mrs. Davis, and was then standing very near it. 
 Looking there, I saw her come out and heard her say some- 
 
 i “ I saw one trooper, the leading one, coming down to put himself 
 near the tent when I left it. He had not been stationed there by 
 Colonel Pritchard or anybody else and was only part of the deploy¬ 
 ment. ’ ’ —J. D. 
 
 C 257 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 thing to the soldier mentioned; perceiving she wanted him 
 to move off, I approached and actually persuaded the fellow 
 to ride away. As the soldier moved into the road, and I 
 walked beside his horse, the President emerged for the first 
 time from the tent, at the side farther from us, and walked 
 away into the woods to the eastward, and at right angles to 
 the road. 
 
 Presently, looking around and observing somebody had 
 come out of the tent, the soldier turned his horse’s head and, 
 reaching the spot he had first occupied, was again approached 
 by Mrs. Davis, who engaged him in conversation. In a min¬ 
 ute, this trooper was joined by one or perhaps two of his 
 comrades, who either had lagged behind the column and were 
 just coming up the road, or had at that moment crossed over 
 from the other (the west) side, where a few of them had 
 fallen to plundering, as I have stated, instead of charging 
 over the creek. They remained on horseback and soon be¬ 
 came violent in their language with Mrs. Davis. The order 
 to “halt” was called out by one of them to the President. 
 It was not obeyed, and was quickly repeated in a loud voice 
 several times. At least one of the men then threatened to 
 fire, and pointed a carbine at the President. Thereupon, 
 Mrs. Davis, overcome with terror, cried out in apprehension, 
 and the President (who had now walked sixty or eighty paces 
 away into the unobstructed woods) turned around and came 
 back rapidly to his wife near the tent. At least one of the 
 soldiers continued his violent language to Mrs. Davis, and 
 the President reproached him for such conduct to her, 1 
 when one of them, seeing the face of the President, as he 
 stood near and was talking, said, “Mr. Davis, surrender! I 
 recognize you, sir.” Pictures of the President were so com¬ 
 mon that nearly or quite every man in both armies knew his 
 face. 
 
 It was, as yet, scarcely daylight. 
 
 i ‘ ‘ Some insolent language was used by our captors around the fire, 
 and Mrs. Davis did reply to one of them, and I did say what I felt 
 like, but there was no conversation at the moment of my arrest.”— 
 J. D. 
 
 C258 3 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 The President had on a water-proof cloak. He had used 
 it, when riding, as a protection against the rain during the 
 night and morning preceding that last halt; and he had prob¬ 
 ably been sleeping in that cloak, at the moment when the 
 camp was attacked. 1 
 
 While all these things were happening, Miss Howell and 
 the children remained within the other tent. The gentlemen 
 of our party had, with the single exception of Captain 
 Moody, all slept on the west side of the road and in or near 
 the wagons. They were, so far as I know, paying no atten¬ 
 tion to what was going on at the tents. I have since talked 
 with Johnston, Wood, and Lubbock, and with others, about 
 these matters; and I have not found there was any one ex- 
 
 1 “ I certainly was not a party to that arrangement by which I was 
 to get upon a boat in Indian River, and my promise to leave that night 
 after taking tea with my family was to execute my original plan, which 
 was to cross the Chattahoochee below the point at which the enemy had 
 garrisons, and Taylor and Forrest were still maintaining themselves in 
 the field to join them and wait reinforcements, or otherwise to cross 
 the Mississippi immediately with the hope of carrying on the war in 
 that country until we could get some kind of treaty to secure the 
 political rights of the States. All this I had fully explained to Reagan, 
 who had been impressed by Wood and Thorburn with the plan of seek¬ 
 ing the sea-coast, as I had previously done to Benjamin and Breckin¬ 
 ridge; to all of them announcing that I would not leave the soil of the 
 Confederacy as long as there was an organized command displaying its 
 flag. But that I did not tell anybody, when I said I was going to 
 leave, what road I would follow or what would be my objective point, 
 was a caution which the circumstances sternly imposed as much for 
 their safety as my own. My change of purpose as to leaving on that 
 night was caused by the report Colonel Johnston brought me that 
 marauders were to attack the camp; as they would probably be for the 
 most part ex-Confederate soldiers, I thought they would so far respect 
 me as not to rob the encampment of my family. In any event, or 
 whoever they might be, it was my duty to wait the issue. My horse 
 was saddled, hitched near to the road, and I was about to start when 
 the intelligence reached me of the intended attack. Still expecting to 
 go on during the night, my horse remained saddled, my pistols within 
 the holsters, and I lay down in my wife’s tent, with all my clothes on, 
 to wait for the arrival of the marauders; but, being weary, fell into a 
 deep sleep, from which I was aroused by my coachman, James Jones, 
 
 C259] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 cept Mrs. Davis, the single trooper at her tent, and myself, 
 who saw all that occurred and heard all that was said at the 
 time. Any one else who gives an account of it has had to rely 
 upon hearsay or his own imagination for his story. 
 
 In a short time after the soldier had recognized the Presi¬ 
 dent, Colonel Pritchard and his men returned from across 
 the creek—the battle there ending with the capture by one 
 party of a man belonging to the other, and by the recognition 
 which followed. 
 
 They told us that the column, consisting of a detachment 
 of Wisconsin cavalry and another of Michigan cavalry, had 
 been dispatched from Macon in pursuit of us, under the 
 command of Colonel Harnden, of Wisconsin; that when they 
 reached Abbeville, they heard a party of mounted men, with 
 
 telling me that there was firing over the creek. The idea with which 
 I had fallen asleep was still in my mind when, stepping instantly out 
 of the tent, I saw the troopers deploying from the road down which 
 they came, and immediately turned back to inform my wife that these 
 were not the expected marauders, but were cavalry, having recognized 
 them as such by the manner of their deployment. The road was some 
 distance to the west of the tent, and none of the soldiers were then 
 near the tent. My wife urged me to leave immediately, the way being 
 still open to the eastward; my horse and arms, however, were near to 
 the road down which the assailants came, so that I must go on foot. 
 As I started, the foreman of the deploying troopers advanced toward me 
 and ordered me to halt, at the same time aiming his carbine at me and 
 ordering me to surrender, to which I replied with angry defiance and 
 started toward him. My wife, who had been watching the whole pro¬ 
 ceeding, rushed after me and threw her arms around my neck. Whether 
 it would have been possible for me to escape the trooper’s fire and get 
 his horse by a very sudden movement, it was quite certain that an 
 instant’s delay, with the hurrying approach of other troopers, rendered 
 the case hopeless; I therefore walked back with my wife to her tent, 
 and passed on, without entering it, to the fire in the rear of it, where 
 I sat down, as the morning was chilly. I do not think I went fifty feet 
 from the tent door, and so far from Colonel Pritchard having a sentinel 
 stationed there, the one truth he told, so far as I know, was that he 
 was not aware of my presence in the encampment until some time after 
 its capture. Subsequent revelations sufficiently showed that the object 
 of the expedition was to capture the wagons supposed to be laden with 
 that hypothetical gold of the Confederate Treasury. J. D. 
 
 [ 260 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 wagons, had crossed the river near there, the night before; 
 that they immediately suspected the identity of the party, and 
 decided to follow it; but that, to make sure of catching us if 
 we had not already crossed the river, Lieutenant-Colonel 
 Pritchard had been posted at the ferry with orders to remain 
 there and capture anybody attempting to pass; that Colonel 
 Harnden, with his Wisconsin men, marched down the direct 
 road we had ourselves taken, and, coming upon us in the 
 night, had halted on the north side of the creek to wait for 
 daylight before making the attack, lest some might escape in 
 the darkness; that Lieutenant-Colonel Pritchard had satisfied 
 himself, by further conversation with the ferry-man, that it 
 was indeed Mr. Davis who had crossed there, and, deciding 
 to be in, if possible, at the capture, had marched as rapidly 
 as he could along the road nearer the river, to the east of 
 and for most of the distance nearly parallel with the route 
 taken by Colonel Harnden; that he reached the cross-roads 
 (Irwinville) in the night, ascertained nobody had passed 
 there for several days, turned north, and found us only a 
 mile and a half up the road; that, to intercept any attempt 
 at escape, he had dismounted some of his men, and sent them 
 to cross the creek to the westward of us and to post them¬ 
 selves in the road north of our camp; that, as these dis¬ 
 mounted men crossed the creek and approached the road, 
 they came upon the Wisconsin troopers, and not being able, 
 in the insufficient light, to distinguish their uniforms, and 
 supposing them to be our escort, opened a brisk fire which 
 was immediately returned; and that, on that signal, Colonel 
 Pritchard and his column charged up the road into our camp, 
 and thence into the thick of the fight. They said that, in the 
 rencontre, a man and, I think, a horse or two were killed, and 
 that an officer and perhaps one or two men were wounded. 
 
 During the confusion of the next few minutes, Colonel 
 John Taylor Wood escaped, first inducing the soldier who 
 halted him to go aside into the bushes on the bank of the 
 creek, and there bribing the fellow with some gold to let him 
 get away altogether. As Wood was an officer of the navy, as 
 well as an officer of the army, had commanded cruisers along 
 
 [ 261 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 the Atlantic coast, had captured and sunk a number of New 
 and New England vessels, and was generally spoken of 
 in the Northern newspapers as a “pirate,” he not unnatu¬ 
 rally apprehended that, if he remained in the enemy’s hands, 
 he would be treated with special severity. 
 
 He made his way to Florida, and there met General Breck¬ 
 inridge, with whom (and perhaps one or two others) he sailed 
 down the east coast of the State in a small open boat, and 
 escaped to Cuba. When in London, in September, 1866, I 
 dined with Breckinridge, and had from him the story of 
 their adventures. He said they kept close alongshore, and, 
 frequently landing, subsisted on turtles’ eggs found in the 
 sand. When nearing the southerly end of the coast, they 
 one day perceived a boat coming to meet them and were at 
 first afraid of capture; but presently, observing that the 
 other boat was so changing its course as to avoid them, they 
 shrewdly suspected it to contain deserters or escaped convicts 
 from the Dry Tortugas, or some such people, who were prob¬ 
 ably themselves apprehensive of trouble if caught. Wood 
 therefore gave chase immediately, and, having the swifter 
 boat, soon overhauled the other one. The unsatisfactory ac¬ 
 count the men aboard gave of themselves seemed to confirm 
 the suspicion with regard to their character. The new boat 
 was a better sea-craft than the one our voyagers had, though 
 not so fast a sailor. They were afraid theirs would not take 
 them across the Gulf to Cuba, and so determined to appro¬ 
 priate the other. Turning pirates for the occasion, they 
 showed their side-arms, put on a bold air, and threatened the 
 rascals with all manner of dreadful things; but finally re¬ 
 lented so far as to offer to let them off with an exchange of 
 boats! The victims were delighted with this clemency, and 
 gladly went through what President Lincoln called the dan¬ 
 gerous process of ‘ ‘ swapping horses while crossing a stream. ’ ’ 
 Each party went on its way rejoicing, and our friends 
 finally, as I have said, reached the coast of Cuba, though 
 almost famished. Indeed, Breckinridge said they were kept 
 alive at all only by a loaf or two of bread kindly given them 
 
 C 262 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 by a Yankee skipper as they sailed under the stern of his 
 vessel at day-break of the last day of their voyage. 
 
 All of the other members of the President’s party, except 
 Colonel Thorburn, and all those of my own party, remained 
 as prisoners—unless, indeed, one or two of the teamsters 
 escaped, as to which I do not recollect. 
 
 I had been astonished to discover the President still in 
 camp when the attack was made. What I learned afterward 
 explained the mystery. Wood and Thorburn tell me that, 
 after the President had eaten supper with his wife, he told 
 them he should ride on when Mrs. Davis was ready to go to 
 sleep; but that, when bed-time came, he finally said he would 
 ride on in the morning—and so spent the night in the tent. 
 He seemed to be entirely unable to apprehend the danger 
 of capture. Everybody was disturbed at this change of his 
 plan to ride ten miles farther, but he could not be got to 
 move. 
 
 Colonel Thorburn decided to start during the night, to 
 accomplish as soon as possible his share of the arrangement 
 for the escape of the party from the sea-coast; and, with his 
 negro boy, he set out alone before day-break. He tells me 
 that, at Irwinville, they ran into the enemy in the darkness, 
 and were fired upon; and that the negro leveled himself on 
 his horse’s back, and galloped away like a good fellow into 
 the woods to the east. Thorburn says he turned in the sad¬ 
 dle for a moment, shot the foremost of the pursuers, saw him 
 tumble from his horse, and then kept on after the negro. 
 They were chased into the woods, but their horses were 
 fresher than those of the enemy and easily distanced pursuit. 
 Thorburn says he went on to Florida, found his friend Cap¬ 
 tain Coxsetter at Lake City, ascertained that the vessel was, 
 as expected, in the Indian River and in good condition for 
 the voyage to Texas, arranged with the captain to get her 
 ready for sailing, and then returned to Madison for the 
 rendezvous. There, he says, he learned of Mr. Davis’s cap¬ 
 ture, and, having no further use for the vessel, sent back 
 orders to destroy her. 
 
 [ 263 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 The business of plundering commenced immediately after 
 the capture; and we were soon left with only what we had 
 on and what we had in our pockets. Several of us rejoiced 
 in some gold; mine was only the one hundred and ten dol¬ 
 lars I have mentioned, but Colonel Lubbock and Colonel 
 Johnston had about fifteen hundred dollars each. Lubbock 
 held on to nearly or quite all of his. But Johnston had found 
 the coins an uncomfortable burden when carried otherwise, 
 and had been riding with them in his holsters. There his 
 precious gold was found, and thence it was eagerly taken, by 
 one or more of our captors. His horse and his saddle, with 
 the trappings and pistols, were those his father, General 
 Albert Sidney Johnston, had used at the battle of Shiloh, 
 and were greatly prized. They and all our horses were 
 promptly appropriated by the officers of Colonel Pritchard’s 
 command; the colonel himself claimed and took the lion’s 
 share, including the two carriage-horses, which, as he was 
 told at the time, were the property of Mrs. Davis, having 
 been bought and presented to her by the gentlemen in Rich¬ 
 mond upon the occasion already mentioned. Colonel Pritch¬ 
 ard also asserted a claim to the horse I had myself ridden, 
 which had stood the march admirably and was fresher and in 
 better condition than the other animals. The colonel’s claim 
 to him, however, was disputed by the adjutant, who insisted 
 on the right of first appropriation, and there was a quarrel 
 between those officers on the spot. 
 
 While it was going on, I emptied the contents of my haver¬ 
 sack into a fire where some of the enemy were cooking break¬ 
 fast, and there saw the papers burn. They were chiefly love- 
 letters, with a photograph of my sweetheart,—though with 
 them chanced to be a few telegrams and perhaps some letters 
 relating to public affairs, of no special interest. 
 
 After we had had breakfast, it was arranged that each 
 of the prisoners should ride his own horse to Macon, the 
 captors kindly consenting to waive right of possession mean¬ 
 time ; and that arrangement was carried out, except that Mr. 
 Davis traveled in one of the ambulances. 
 
 C 264 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 We marched in a column of twos, and Major Maurin and 
 I rode together. He was very taciturn; but when, on the 
 second or third day, we came upon a cavalry camp where a 
 brass-band, in a large wagon drawn by handsome horses, 
 was stationed by the road-side, and suddenly struck up 
 “Yankee Doodle” as the ambulance containing Mr. Davis 
 came abreast of it, the silent old Creole was moved to speech. 
 The startling burst of music set our horses to prancing. 
 When Major Maurin had composed his steed, he turned to 
 me with a broad smile and revenged himself with: “I re¬ 
 member the last time I heard that tune; it was at the battle 
 of Fredericksburg, -when a brass-band came across the pon¬ 
 toon bridge with the column and occupied a house within 
 range of my guns, where they began ‘Yankee Doodle.’ I 
 myself sighted a field-piece at the house, missed it with the 
 first shot, but next time hit it straight. In all your life you 
 never heard ‘Yankee Doodle’ stop so short as it did then!” 
 
 It was at that cavalry camp we first heard of the procla¬ 
 mation offering a reward of $100,000 for the eapture of Mr. 
 Davis, upon the charge, invented by Stanton and Holt, of 
 participation in the plot to murder Mr. Lincoln. Colonel 
 Pritchard had himself just received it, and considerately 
 handed a printed copy of the proclamation to Mr. Davis, 
 w T ho read it with a composure unruffled by any feeling other 
 than scorn. The money was, several years later, paid to the 
 captors. Stanton and Holt, lawyers both, very well knew 
 that Mr. Davis could never be convicted upon an indictment 
 for treason, but were determined to hang him anyhow, and 
 were in search of a pretext for doing so. 
 
 The march to Macon took four days. As we rode up to 
 the head-quarters of General Wilson there, an orderly (act¬ 
 ing, as he said, under directions of the adjutant) seized my 
 rein before I had dismounted, and led off my horse the mo¬ 
 ment I was out of the saddle. When, that afternoon, we 
 were sent to the station to take the railway train arranged to 
 convey the prisoners to Augusta, on our way to Fortress 
 Monroe, the horses of all or most of the officers of our party 
 
 £ 2651 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 were standing in front of the hotel, and the several ex¬ 
 owners rode them to the station. My horse was not there, 
 and I had to go to the station afoot. 
 
 Several years afterward, on the grand stand at the Jerome 
 
 Park race-course, in New York, I met Colonel-, from 
 
 whom, in Danville, Virginia, I had got the horse under the 
 circumstances narrated. He told me he was in that part of 
 Georgia shortly after our capture, and said the quarrel be¬ 
 tween Colonel Pritchard and his adjutant, as to who should 
 have my horse, waxed so hot at Macon that the adjutant, 
 fearing he would not be able to keep the horse himself, and 
 determined Colonel Pritchard should not have him, ended 
 the dispute by drawing his revolver and shooting the gallant 
 steed dead. 
 
 At General Wilson’s head-quarters in Macon, I met Gen¬ 
 eral Croxton, of Kentucky, one of Wilson’s brigadiers, who 
 had been two classes ahead of me at Yale College. He re¬ 
 ceived me with expressions of great friendship; said he 
 should have a special outlook for my comfort while a pris¬ 
 oner ; and told me that it was at his suggestion that Harnden 
 and Pritchard had been dispatched to intercept Mr. Davis 
 at the crossing of the Ocmulgee River at Abbeville—having 
 heard from some of the Confederate cavalry who had been 
 disbanded at Washington, Georgia, each with a few dollars 
 in silver in his pocket, that the President had ridden south 
 from that place. 
 
 Had Mr. Davis continued his journey, without reference to 
 us, after crossing the Ocmulgee River, or had he ridden on 
 after getting supper with our party the night we halted for 
 the last time; had he gone but five miles beyond Irwinville, 
 passing through that village at night, and so avoiding ob¬ 
 servation, there is every reason to suppose that he and his 
 party would have escaped either across the Mississippi or 
 through Florida to the sea-coast, as Mr. Benjamin escaped, 
 as General Breckinridge escaped, and as others did. It was 
 the apprehension he felt for the safety of his wife and children 
 which brought about his capture. And, looking back now, it 
 
 C 266 ] 
 
THE CAPTURE OF JEFFERSON DAVIS 
 
 must be thought by everybody to have been best that he did 
 not then escape from the country. 
 
 To have been a prisoner in the hands of the Government of 
 the United States, and not to have been brought to trial upon 
 any of the charges against him, is sufficient refutation of 
 them all. It indicates that the people in Washington knew 
 the accusations could not be sustained. 
 
 C267] 
 
ESSAYS BY 
 
 JESSE BURTON HARRISON 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF 
 LETTERS AND TASTE 
 IN VIRGINIA 
 
 A discourse pronounced before the Literary and Philosophical Society of Hampden- 
 Sidney College, at their fourth anniversary, in September, 1827 
 
 BY J. BURTON HARRISON 
 . . . Tibi 
 
 Externa non mens; Italus, Italus. 
 
 Statius, Syl. iv. 5. 45. 
 
 Mr. President, 
 
 and Gentlemen of the Philosophical Society, 
 
 I SHOULD be uncandid, were I to express any great re¬ 
 luctance to perform the part, which you have been 
 pleased to assign to me on this day. I am glad at this oppor¬ 
 tunity of appearing in the presence of my old friends and 
 well-remembered acquaintances, whose kind forbearance I 
 have often experienced within these walls. I know that it 
 will not be withheld at this time. Perhaps, Sir, I may need 
 it much for reasons additional to those which were the head 
 and front of the offending of the more immature student, 
 crudeness of thought and bad taste; with not years enough 
 on my head to insure me against liability to these sins, I 
 deprecate the possibility of others. I have been separated 
 from these friends for the space of six years : for a season, 
 far distant from them, and at no time since within the atmos¬ 
 phere of their opinions. If therefore, amidst other scenes 
 and other studies ardently pursued, it has been my chance to 
 imbibe sentiments relative to any matters within the scope 
 of this occasion, different from those of any among them, I 
 shall hope to be pardoned. 
 
 I have not thought proper to undertake to entertain you 
 with high-sounding generalities, applicable, or rather inap- 
 
 [271] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 plicable, alike to all countries and to all times; nor to attempt 
 to amuse you with the display of a portion of that great stock 
 of sentiment and opinion, which, after the civilians, I may 
 call matter communis juris; opinions, which no one is so 
 obtuse as not to have adopted, and sentiments which no one 
 is perverse or sluggish enough not to feel. The times need 
 minuter observation and the suggestion of palpable faults. 
 I am sure, too, that you chiefly desire individuality in the 
 speaker, who is called before your learned body at each re¬ 
 turning annual meeting. Such, in a high degree, have been 
 all the discourses hitherto delivered to the Society. And at 
 the outset, I cannot but dread the contrast, which it may 
 occur to some to institute between my own humble efforts 
 and the display which it was the good fortune of the Society 
 to witness at its last assembling here. No one admires, more 
 than myself, the classical propriety, the rare felicity of 
 speech of the member to whom I allude; with you, I listened 
 with astonishment at the elegant fluency, I will even say, the 
 provoking fluency, with which he pours out the richest 
 thoughts in aptest phrase; with you may I regret the occa¬ 
 sion which draws him away from Virginia and from this 
 Society. 
 
 I am come then to speak, as you may most naturally ex¬ 
 pect, in my humble manner of our own Virginia, with refer¬ 
 ence to the prospects of letters, taste, and refinement among 
 us. Nothing is more frequent than to hear, even among our¬ 
 selves, lamentations over the departing greatness of our 
 commonwealth, sad repinings at the retrospect of our for¬ 
 tunes, and sadder forebodings of what another and another 
 census may unfold of our diminished importance; but the 
 most pointed complaint is of the disappearance of the old 
 Virginia character. The mistake appears to me to consist 
 in regretting it. Observe, Sir, I do not mean to deny that 
 there were good points in that character, or that there were 
 many circumstances in the condition of Virginia at the 
 period of the Revolution (for to this time I suppose 
 the complainers look), which I should delight to see perpet¬ 
 uated. When I think of the princely munificence of Thomas 
 
 £2723 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 Nelson’s patriotism, of the Roman loftiness of George 
 Mason’s statesmanship, and the liberal learning of George 
 Wythe, the last but a sample of the many ripe scholars 
 we then boasted, I should be disingenuous indeed, did I 
 not own with sorrow, that perhaps none of our public men 
 may claim to themselves a near resemblance to any one of 
 these names. But yet I must maintain, that the general con¬ 
 dition of Virginia at that time has not been altered for the 
 worse, and that the then prevailing character of the state, 
 by whatever circumstances lost, need not be mourned over. 
 
 An error, which is an ingredient of the mistake of which 
 I speak, is in supposing the old Virginia character to be a 
 peculiar character. Whoever is familiar with the history 
 of the literature of two or three nations, will perceive a 
 remarkable coincidence among their writers in this. Juvenal 
 complains of the passing away of the good old time when, 
 to quiet the mind of Regulus, the senate voted him new gar¬ 
 den utensils and a single servant to till his ground until his 
 return; other writers of antiquity have lamented the depar¬ 
 ture of a happy age of contented poverty among the ma¬ 
 jority, and of affluence in a few meekly borne. The Spanish 
 gentleman of an age subsequent to that of the knight-errant, 
 the Frenchman of the old regime on his own country estate, 
 the old English gentleman of the seventeenth century, or 
 the old English squire of Fielding in the eighteenth, are 
 characters nearly analogous to the old Virginian. Mark, 
 however, that the bright side of the picture of Spain, France, 
 and England in those times exhibits but little of the re¬ 
 tainers, the peasants, the small tenants and laborers, as they 
 respectively might be, of the people; they are always spoken 
 of as in a happy ignorance and a stationary contentment. 
 Now, taking this general national character just named, as 
 a whole (and nothing is so true as that the better part of it 
 essentially demands the other for its counterpart), I boldly 
 allege that no statesman ought to regret its departure in 
 any part of the world. 
 
 I am yet too young not to feel the glow of the poet when 
 he mourns over the pastoral simplicity of past days, and no 
 
 C 273 H 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 one can have read without delight the sketch, by a living 
 English traveller, of the quiet, insulated little spots in the 
 mountains of Colombia. But were there no other reason for 
 dissatisfaction with these, I should think it enough to say, 
 that this simple state of society cannot last in the nature of 
 things. The stranger will visit these regions, the merchant 
 will bring his tempting novelties; and commerce first, then 
 selfishness, then wealth unequally distributed, but constantly 
 changing hands, lastly luxury will come, and the vision melts 
 away. More robust than this was the state of society in 
 Virginia, but alike dependent on the hopeless chance of 
 escaping from the all-pervading and all-disturbing step of 
 progressive commerce, or the equally hopeless chance of put¬ 
 ting any narrow bounds to its inroads. The ancient con¬ 
 descending, kind-hearted rich will become poor and selfish, 
 the once contented poor will be stirred up to activity and 
 love of gain; and thus the idolized dignity of the former, 
 and the quiet submission of the latter, pass away into that 
 state, to which I verily trust all things are tending, a state 
 of equality. I said, I thought it enough to allege, that this 
 state of things could not last. Sir, it cannot last any where, 
 unless the great globe itself and all who inherit it, shall stand 
 still; and when I find the course of general events unerring, 
 I believe beforehand, that there is wisdom in it, and I am 
 always glad when I find out the specific wisdom to justify 
 and make us satisfied with it. 
 
 There is a state of society far beyond any I have yet men¬ 
 tioned, which, too, has passed away; I mean the age of chiv¬ 
 alry. Certainly, I am glad of it. Never, while the spirit of 
 this so much boasted age existed, never might we expect the 
 least encouragement to the equalizing genius of democracy. 
 When I estimate the value of any institution of government, 
 I see no criterion whatsoever, except the effect on the great 
 body of the people; and though it be true, that iinder that 
 institution the great were made more illustrious; yet when it 
 disappeared it left the lowly, private citizens more happy. 
 It is precisely this change, to borrow the sentiment of 
 Madame de Stael, which many causes have been uniting their 
 
 [274] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 greater or less influence, for two centuries, to produce, in life 
 and society in Europe. The ancient manners made the great 
 more exalted and admirable; the modern make the obscure 
 more secure, independent, and manly. It is in this view that 
 I look on its influence as antagonist to the cause of liberty, 
 and as dangerously inimical too, because of the tendency it 
 had to quiet and torpify the people by the pure and lofty 
 feelings, which the particular few exhibited to their admi¬ 
 ration. 
 
 But this is only collateral to my declaration, that the de¬ 
 parture of the old Virginia character is not to be regretted. 
 I am convinced that as soon as a republican form of govern¬ 
 ment w r as established, and the statute of distributions passed, 
 its days were numbered. It died with the men of that gen¬ 
 eration and not all the world could keep it alive in their 
 children. What was this character? That high spirit which 
 we derived from England, raised still higher by dominion 
 over our slaves; a pride of blood and of hereditary wealth, 
 rather greater than was desirable perhaps, but never highly 
 offensive; a courtesy and condescending kindness; an open- 
 handed hospitality, which never looked to the possibility that 
 the means might give out; a total want of selfishness or 
 meanness arising from cupidity. All this was doomed to 
 that fate, which, in a commercial age, awaits wealth distrib¬ 
 uted into small portions; doomed to suffer diminished regard 
 and cold applause; and almost all has departed, and left 
 behind cautious prudence, restricted hospitality, candid fa¬ 
 miliarity instead of condescension, and propriety rather 
 than dignity. As to the individual character of our large 
 landholders, for it is only their character, I know no fault, 
 in it, except a want of enterprise, a degree of inertness, to 
 which it was undoubtedly subject. But unexceptionable, 
 enviable as it was in itself as an individual character, it was 
 in its main features irreconcileable with institutions which 
 are too dear to us to be compromised ; its existence was incon¬ 
 sistent with the course of events of the present age. 
 
 Do you want the old Virginia character brought back ? It 
 can be done ; it is the easiest of political problems. You must 
 
 C 275 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 repeal the statute of distributions, and introduce hereditary 
 wealth; then check the spirit of commerce by abolishing the 
 banks, bringing back all wealth to consist in land and slaves; 
 and then you will have it restored in two generations: but 
 for how many generations it would last, I cannot say. It 
 is not wise in us, depend upon it, to sigh after that, which the 
 equal division of estates among heirs cuts up by the roots. 
 All the improvement now going on in the world tends inevi¬ 
 tably to equalization, and he who looks at the'whole ground 
 will perceive at what cost we have bought a levelling demo¬ 
 cratic government. Some may be appalled at a philosophical 
 consideration of its exclusive course. I speak most sincerely, 
 when I declare it to be worth, in my mind, more than all 
 which falls before it. I do not then join in this delusive re¬ 
 gret ; in the nineteenth century it is too late. I throw my eye 
 on that basis, that residuum which we have chosen for our¬ 
 selves. I think there is in the Virginia character of the pres¬ 
 ent day a greater fitness for improvement and capacity for 
 an excellence, not only beyond what we once knew, but, my 
 respect for other people does not forbid me to say, beyond 
 that of any other nation. Let us but see our faults and apply 
 the remedies, and she shall one day, not far distant, be more 
 than she ever yet has been imagined by her sons to be. Vir¬ 
 ginia is lower, none can deny, in the scale of the Union than 
 she once was. I firmly believe that a better destiny is pre¬ 
 pared for her than she has ever experienced, were there but 
 sagacity enough among us to take advantage of all her 
 capabilities. And I would even fix upon this event, the 
 acknowledged and recognised decline of Virginia, however 
 paradoxical it may seem, as an important circumstance pro- 
 motive of the future greatness of the Commonwealth. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that from the time of the Revo¬ 
 lution, a period at which we boasted statesmen, orators, and 
 scholars of the highest rank, Virginia seems to have rested 
 content with the honor which had been laboriously attained 
 for her by some of her sons, to have abandoned a valuable 
 standard of education, and, becoming her own eulogist and 
 her own worst enemy, to have reposed her high claims upon 
 
 C276] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 her genius, and that genius, too, surrendered up to become 
 enervated by indolence and imbruted by ignorance. In this 
 state of things the men of the Revolution pass away, yet in 
 their career securing for Virginia high renown for that phil¬ 
 osophic wisdom and disinterested patriotism which belonged 
 to all the distinguished Virginians of their generation; but 
 while they pass away, it is not perceived that we had made no 
 provision for the continued reproduction of men of that same 
 class. Nor was it in the nature of things that they should 
 be produced, while the vanity of believing ourselves the 
 greatest people on earth checked our exertions to attain or 
 preserve real greatness, and while the very worst plan of 
 education, that ever dulness invented to pamper vanity, pre¬ 
 vailed, as it did from the Revolution until about the year 
 1820. Is it not incredible, that a youthful people, with al¬ 
 most none of her energies developed; her enterprise not yet 
 shown in any one great public work, continuing on its un¬ 
 diminished utility to succeeding times; her love of learning 
 not shown by any venerable seats of learning, founded and 
 liberally patronized by her wealth; with not one poem, one 
 history, one statue, one picture, one work of laborious learn¬ 
 ing to exhibit to the world in rivalry of the land of Tasso 
 and of Raphael, or of Gibbon and of Chantrey,—that this 
 people should fold its arms to dream of its secure supremacy 
 over all others, should voluntarily cut itself off from the 
 fountains of rich learning by means of a bad system deliber¬ 
 ately taken and persevered in for thirty years, and should 
 by inertness and stagnation of public spirit draw on itself, 
 in its early youth, signs of old age ? 
 
 Sir, I say these things in sorrow. You know that I say 
 them out of love for Virginia. Such, none can deny, was 
 Virginia from the Revolution till very lately; and the eminent 
 men who have sprung up in that period have only become so 
 by private means and private study, in spite of and in entire 
 opposition to the system and notions prevalent throughout 
 the state. I know that now, when all acknowledge that some¬ 
 thing must be done to repair our decayed greatness and 
 lessened strength, we shall see the vigor and irresistible spirit 
 
 C 277 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 of our own land put forth in continually increasing might; 
 so true is it that it was necessary that we should be brought 
 to some humiliation in order to make us begin again the 
 career of fame, which to be true must be well earned. Such 
 I humbly believe to be an impartial sketch of the varying 
 condition of Virginia, and such the light in which Virginia’s 
 best friends regard it. 
 
 Many persons know, that not greatly diverse from these 
 views were the feelings of him, who was second only to Wash¬ 
 ington, a Virginian in heart and mind. Born and grown up 
 to manhood with Pendleton and Henry, filled with the genius 
 of their time and a perpetual love for the high spirit and the 
 whole character of the prominent men of that generation, he 
 yet did not regret the revolution in that character which was 
 inevitable under our republican institutions; he saw after¬ 
 wards with pain the long course of our diminishing great¬ 
 ness, but he felt that it would eventually produce good. He 
 saw where the error lay; he desired better things, when we 
 were content; he used, without tiring, his great influence on 
 a reluctant people, and having prepared everything, Hen! 
 dolenda Nestorece brevitas senectce, 1 he departs content, just 
 when the glowworm began “to pale his uneffectual fire,” 
 and the morning air, fresh and revivifying, was not to be 
 mistaken as the sign of the approaching sun. Highly as he 
 estimated Virginia, he knew that with the qualities which lie 
 at the bottom of our present character, with the means of 
 perfect education now in our reach, and the wholesome con¬ 
 sciousness lately acquired that we need some aid from let¬ 
 ters, we shall attain a vastly higher estimation in the opinion 
 of the world than we have ever yet possessed. 
 
 It has been to me always an interesting inquiry, how great 
 was the extent of the means of education in Virginia before 
 the Revolution and in what respect they differed from those 
 of our own time. Let me dwell for a few minutes on this 
 topic. No very extensive plan seems to have been projected 
 for a generation or two after the settlement at Jamestown, 
 
 i Smith’s Pococlcius, in Musce Anglicance, Yol. II. 199. Edit. 1761. 
 
 C278 3 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 so unsettled was the state of the times, and so restless were 
 the immediate emigrants from that love of gain which 
 brought our fathers hither. The London Virginia Company, 
 one of the noblest, most illustrious and public-spirited so¬ 
 cieties, says Stith, that ever yet perhaps engaged in such an 
 undertaking, at the head of which was Shakspeare’s patron, 
 the Earl of Southampton, seems early to have recommended 
 a regard for education; but I do not find that they furnished 
 any efficient means, during their government of the colony, 
 for carrying their recommendation into effect. 1 
 
 The first successful plan which seems to have been organ¬ 
 ized, was under the management of the clergy of the Estab¬ 
 lished Church. The colony was in the diocese of the Bishop 
 of London, and from his nomination were all the livings 
 filled. The counties, according to their population, composed 
 one, two, or three parishes, and it is believed that every 
 clergyman taught a parish school in his own precincts. These 
 parochial schools were the only institutions of learning in 
 the colony, until shortly after the English Revolution, when 
 the college of William and Mary was founded. Whoever, in 
 considering these parish schools as the only places of instruc¬ 
 tion, should estimate their fitness to give a mature education 
 by the analogy of the mostly wretched grammar schools of 
 the present day, and thence conclude that no valuable learn¬ 
 ing could have been imparted in them, is very far from 
 truth. There has seldom been known a class of men, whose 
 characters presented so many varied qualities, such mingled 
 subjects of censure and good-natured approbation, as did the 
 clergy of Virginia before the Revolution. They were nearly 
 
 i That literature was not, however, altogether neglected by the agents 
 whom the Company maintained here, we know from the fact that 
 Sandys, the Company’s treasurer in Virginia, wrote his translation of 
 Ovid here—a work perhaps not known at this day in Virginia, but 
 which had great reputation at the time and mainly assisted, together 
 with Chapman’s Homer, in forming the perfect versification of Pope. 
 Nevertheless every one remembers the devout exclamation of the accom¬ 
 plished Sir William Berkeley sixty years after the planting of the 
 colony: “Thank God, there are no printing-presses yet in the colony 
 to make the people factious and turbulent. ’ ’ 
 
 C279] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 all Scotchmen, sent hither by that uneasy spirit of adven¬ 
 ture, which was at that time conducting the internal com¬ 
 merce of all Europe by Scotch pedlars, and helping to render 
 interminable the German wars, that labyrinth of history, by 
 Scotch soldiers of fortune; a spirit which long made that na¬ 
 tion notorious, until the fuller glory of New England thrift and 
 enterprise rose on the world of meum and tuum, to rest for 
 ever in the ascendant. It may seem strange, that so few Eng¬ 
 lishmen were selected. Perhaps the pecuniary prospects of the 
 Virginia parishes were not inviting enough to the colder and 
 more inactive English; while to the craving of Scotch pov¬ 
 erty, the inducement was irresistible. The number of Vir¬ 
 ginians, who were presented to livings is said to have been 
 very small, even up to the Revolution. In some cases, per¬ 
 haps, persons were froeked and sent over to us without any 
 previous clerical education; but I apprehend that it was not 
 often so. Too many of them, undoubtedly, without the im¬ 
 pulse of pious purpose, and without the decency of religious 
 profession, came among us to enjoy the comparative wealth 
 which the law made their right; but the education of these 
 men had been regular, and their learning was never despica¬ 
 ble. Little would any one, who had noted the robustious 
 horseman that was loudest in the view-halloo, and foremost 
 in at the death of the fox; and who had joined the laugh¬ 
 ing chorus at the rare jest of the same person, the boon 
 companion faithful to the end, the dear lover of the prac¬ 
 tical joke, and the skillful adept in the hieroglyphics of 
 whist and piquet;—little would he suspect that it was a 
 clerical Nimrod, whom he had seen exulting in the worldly 
 glories of the chase, and that it was the prince of good fel¬ 
 lows, whom he would next see comely with band and cas¬ 
 sock. But still less would he suspect, that the shelves of this 
 incongruous being were stored with the rare treasures of 
 good learning, and that the transactions of the world of 
 letters were scarce less familiar to his mind than to the grave 
 and austere, who make learning their occupation and their 
 fame. 
 
 The instruction in the parish schools, chiefly in ancient 
 
 C 280 n 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 learning, in Latin particularly, was little inferior to that in 
 any part of the world at the time. When actually engaged 
 with their pupils, the tutors showed a familiarity with their 
 authors, an enthusiastic admiration of them, and a love of 
 learning in general, which inspired all their pupils with an 
 eagerness not immediately satisfied, and which became a per¬ 
 manent part of their character in after life. It may not be 
 amiss to observe here, that though the scholarship of the 
 clergy, as far as it consists in an intimate acquaintance with 
 the spirit of the authors, was most thorough, yet their pro¬ 
 nunciation, as it is even now in Scotland, was very wretched; 
 a matter of no great moment in this connexion, seeing that 
 the true classical enthusiasm was so much diffused by them. 
 
 But besides these schools, the college, established under 
 munificent royal patronage, offered means of most excellent 
 education; this is proved by the admirable library which still 
 exists in the ancient capital of the State, as testimony of the 
 spirit of those who selected it. 
 
 In making an estimate of the condition of learning here 
 before the Revolution, I feel warranted in saying, that while 
 the lower orders were scarcely at all instructed, the richer 
 class were vastly better educated in proportion to the light 
 and spirit of the age, than the present generation are, ac¬ 
 knowledging a great advancement of society since in Europe. 
 I might safely say this, even excluding from the estimate 
 those who were sent abroad to be educated, who were not a 
 few. Many are the relics that still lie scattered in the region 
 where these latter men usually had their abode, seeming like 
 the fossil remains of some long gone species. The traveller 
 treads the sandy barrens, grown up with pines and cedar, 
 casts a look of pity on the paltry farm of unthankful soil, nor 
 can readily believe this to have been once a favorite portion 
 of this wide extended State. By and by the delapidated 
 form of some stately mansion rears its jagged summit above 
 the scene, and then the elaborate, orderly structure of some 
 church, sacked of its ornaments, and its aisles robbed of the 
 beauties of their chequered pavement; and not a day, that 
 some mutilated volume of pure learning, of philology, or of 
 
 £ 281 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 speculative divinity, some Elzevir or Wetstein, which to read 
 must have been a labor of love to the owner, does not offer its 
 rare treasures to his hands. Now, for the first time, he sus¬ 
 pects that there must have been once far other inhabitants 
 here; and now he knows that there may be, in this infant and 
 growing country, a large territory with every vestige of 
 depreciation and decay, nay, of desolate antiquity ; a state 
 of things, I am convinced, to be found in Virginia alone, of 
 all America. How far may we not conclude the eager re¬ 
 search and patient toil of the scholars, who sought wisdom 
 in these uninviting books, to have been above those of our 
 own day! 
 
 While we may set down the education of those men, who 
 were trained abroad, as equal to the best standard of foreign 
 education, we may form a very exact estimate of the learning 
 of those who were carefully educated wholly in the Colony. 
 The education which they received, was exactly the Scotch 
 education of the period. Now Scotch education, in the three 
 first quarters of the eighteenth century, consisted chiefly in 
 Latin. Of Greek, there was but little taught in Scotland, 
 and that, as it is now, rather superficially. Indeed, among 
 the learned, it appears to have been as great a question, 
 whether a Scotchman could, in the nature of things, be a 
 good Grecian, as whether a Dutchman could be a bel esprit. 
 The rage for noisy politics, which has seized the Scotch lit¬ 
 erati of the present day, was then unknown, most of them 
 being of the quiescent party, the vanquished Jacobites. The 
 mathematics of the day were taught in Latin, as was almost 
 all the science, which was thought proper to be learned. The 
 lectures of the schools were all in the same tongue. That 
 greater passion of the Scotch, a love of metaphysics, had not 
 then spread far. Always disputative, they shared, with the 
 rest of Europe, a grave respect for the entity and quiddity 
 of ancient logic and metaphysics, but nothing like the present 
 fury, which “raves, recites, and maddens” around Edin¬ 
 burgh, was known. Their studies in belles-lettres were all 
 founded on the ancient authors, but by no means confined to 
 these; they were made fond of books, and hence they found 
 
 [ 282 ] 
 
THE PEOSPECTS OF LETTEES AND TASTE IN VIEGINIA 
 
 congenial to their most matured tastes the treasures of Eng¬ 
 lish literature, which every one knows were rich and diversi¬ 
 fied long before the end of the eighteenth century. On this 
 whole view of Scotch education, it would be folly to deny 
 that it is more judicious now than it was then; indeed, I am 
 clear, that their present system would be the most perfect in 
 the world, if the new sciences, now such monopolists of their 
 time, had been added, instead of being introduced to the com¬ 
 parative exclusion of the grand substratum of ancient learn¬ 
 ing. All foreigners attest, that their classical knowledge is 
 now pretty much after the model of poor Shakspeare’s 
 “little Latine, and less Greek.” Indeed, I know nothing to 
 regret in the good Whigs of Great Britain, so much as a dis¬ 
 position to undervalue the ancients, steadily maintained for 
 many years, with a few bright exceptions in the last genera¬ 
 tion and in this. 
 
 I beg that it may be distinctly understood, that all my 
 views are confined to those who are to be educated for the 
 professions, for politics, and for literary pursuits to be 
 mingled with the higher avocations of life; for to these be¬ 
 longs almost exclusively the opportunity of lettered leisure. 
 Now, when a plan of education is to be prepared for young 
 men, who, it is hoped, may be ornaments to polite society, 
 enlightened with liberal knowledge, and with faculties culti¬ 
 vated to the utmost advantage for the employments of active 
 life, and the still more necessary quiet of private meditation, 
 for my own part I would not stipulate for the parsimonious 
 allowance of classical learning, which the Scotch critics 
 would grant; I would not be content with the modicum, 
 which the Scotch critic possesses, but I would declare that 
 little short of classical enthusiasm, arising from rich classi¬ 
 cal attainments, would be a fit basis, and that, too, to be 
 secured before any other part was thought of. So thought 
 the Whigs of America, and chiefly the eminent men of Vir¬ 
 ginia at that day. Acquainted, as many of them were, with 
 the ancients face to face, their passion for letters and divine 
 philosophy, pure and elevated as it must have been from its 
 ancient source, was the parent of their love of liberty. Be- 
 
 [ 283 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 sides the innate worth of republicanism, it taught them the 
 generous, high genealogy of freedom, beyond the pride of 
 Bourbon or Nassau, or more, far beyond “the race of Thebes, 
 or Pelops’ line.” Whenever I review the names of these 
 men, I think I see their models distinct in the foreground of 
 antiquity. Where, where shall we find their exemplars, but 
 in the pictured page of Livy, or in the animated lessons of 
 Plutarch ? 
 
 Did this spirit now prevail in Scotland, not inconsistent, 
 I contend, with their favorite pursuits, but the fittest pre¬ 
 parative for valuable success in them, what would not now 
 be the brilliance of the Scotch intellectual character! On 
 the bright glow of a classical spirit, behold how the successive 
 hues might be superinduced! First would come the glory of 
 opening the lists of Political Economy, with that great work, 
 “The Wealth of Nations,” ever germinant, let me say, of 
 instruction and utility, as new events rise up; next, the 
 scarcely inferior glory of the first public instruction in the 
 Science of Government, by Ferguson. Then Burns, at the 
 time of which I spoke, yet uninspired by that spirit which 
 afterwards made him walk “in glory and in joy, behind his 
 plough upon the mountain side,” destined soon to render 
 Scotch the universal Doric of the poetical world. Mackenzie 
 had not yet given to English prose the mellow richness of 
 sentiment, the sweet tone of not unmanly philosophy, and 
 shown that the round and clean composition of the sentence, 
 and the sweet falling of the clauses, are not inconsistent with 
 vigor and weighty wisdom. Lastly, the splendor of Scott, 
 the brightest name in this quarter of the nineteenth century, 
 whom to call “the Ariosto of the North,” is but to give the 
 inadequate praise of imitation, or of sufficient success in 
 introducing in this age a style of poetry that cannot be nat¬ 
 uralized in England, now that it is not feudal, or unlettered; 
 but let me rather term him the truest history-painter of 
 human life (come in at a time when strong individuality of 
 character is receding to the Scotch mountains, and a few 
 other fastnesses), prepared to embody the distinct spirit of 
 the last seven centuries, with a truth, doubtless, greater than 
 
 n284] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 that wherewith a cotemporary could have done it in either 
 instance. Not with the painfully just severity of the gro¬ 
 tesque Dante, nor the ludicrous distortion of the too acute 
 Fielding, nor yet the exaggerated coloring of Byron, always 
 autobiographical in every thing but his incidents, he paints 
 with the candor and feeling of Chremes in Terence; he is a 
 man, and all humanity is a personal interest to him. 
 
 But to return. You perceive my drift, then, Mr. Presi¬ 
 dent, when I avow, that I believe education to have declined 
 here, since the Revolution. It has declined in the very vital 
 part of learning, namely, classical knowledge; and to the 
 decline in this point is attributable, in my mind, or with this 
 is necessarily connected, a decline in general learning. A 
 single remark will throw light on this proposition. So com¬ 
 pletely is classical knowledge transfused into all the works 
 of taste in the English language, so entirely is it taken for 
 granted, that the reader is a classical scholar, capable of 
 translating direct quotations and relishing covert allusions, 
 that any mere English scholar is forced to admit, while he 
 proceeds, that the work he reads was not written for him. 
 Take the British reviews, for an example, among the most 
 popular works of the day. Look along their pages, “bristling 
 with inverted commas,” as has been happily said, and in¬ 
 fested throughout with the ambushed beauties of ancient 
 eloquence and wit; which, who is willing to read when the 
 conviction strikes him, that they were written for a sphere of 
 society higher than his own? In fact, this is scarcely at all 
 the case in any of the modern languages but the English, 
 and hence I only urge it on Britons and Americans. For 
 myself, I would as soon read the French prose translation of 
 Paradise Lost, as Milton, in his own divine form, if stripped 
 of classical allusions. Although there are not a few excel¬ 
 lent works of purely English materiel, I am clear, that he 
 enters the great gallery of modern art without guide or key, 
 who undertakes to compass the higher beauties of English 
 prose and poetry, with no more than a handful of Latin. 
 The English literature I hold to be the noblest in the world, 
 and it is so, not more from embodying in its energetic, copi- 
 
 £28511 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ous, and grand dialect more profound thought and hold sen¬ 
 timent, than any other, than from the vast number of ancient 
 beauties with which it is rich, whether by direct incorpora¬ 
 tion, successful imitation, or most frequently by shadowy 
 allusion. Except the discovery of some perfectly original 
 train of thought, of which I remember Button gives informa¬ 
 tion, in rapturous terms, there is perhaps no pleasure of the 
 intellect equal to that of the reader of refined taste, enter¬ 
 tained with a succession of thoughts, pregnant with rich 
 associations and recollections, as the successive passages are 
 read. And were I called on for a signal instance of a writer 
 capable of imparting this pleasure, I would beg leave to 
 name the late articles on Milton and Machiavelli, in the 
 Edinburgh Review, by Mr. Macaulay. 
 
 In completion of this single view of classical learning,— 
 for nothing is more alien from my mind than the idea, that 
 classical learning requires a systematic defence before a so¬ 
 ciety of men of letters, such as this,—let me only add, that 
 thus necessary as it is for the full appreciation of English 
 literature, it may justly be considered a wonder, when any 
 person, not familiar with antiquity, is found to be ardently 
 fond of English belles-lettres, or to be possessed of habits of 
 enthusiastic study in liberal learning, who has not formed 
 them early in the company of the ancients. And English 
 literature has not left its great debt undischarged. In truth, 
 I have often thought, Sir, that in the light, which English 
 literature has thrown back by way of return upon antiquity, 
 it has done more to illustrate and beautify the ancient works, 
 than the labors of all the ancient scholiasts and critics. What 
 Pope has done for Horace, and Johnson for Juvenal, are but 
 small instances of the service done in this way. To one who 
 speaks the English language, I think it is hardly a question, 
 whether as much would be gained to the cause of ancient let¬ 
 ters, if the Alexandrian library could be restored, and all the 
 palimpsest manuscripts be made to give up their defaced 
 treasures to the curious eye, as would be lost to it by blotting 
 out the illustrations and imitations in English poetry and 
 prose. 
 
 C 286 ] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 The chief operative cause of a decline of letters in Vir¬ 
 ginia, has undoubtedly been the premature inclination of 
 most of our young men for political life, absorbing their 
 thoughts from an early age, tempting them by the ease with 
 which political advancement to a certain stage is to be ob¬ 
 tained, and making irksome the toil of acquiring any know¬ 
 ledge of which they do not see the immediate need. Taking 
 up an idea, which we hear prevails in Edinburgh, that to 
 advance any farther in the classics than a few elementary 
 books, is to bring no profit, but will only involve them at 
 the first step in the endless frivolities of long and short 
 syllables, they wholly deprive themselves of the means of 
 apprehending the true value of antiquity, the spirit of its 
 authors, the igneus vigor et coelestis origo of ancient senti¬ 
 ment. Really, just as reasonable would it be, to refuse to go 
 beyond the multiplication table from the absurd fear of en¬ 
 tangling one’s self in the mysteries of analytical mathe¬ 
 matics. The consequence of all this is, that the education of 
 our young politicians has been precisely this: just as much 
 Latin as would enable them to read the newspapers; Greek 
 enough to remember the alphabet for four or five years; the 
 history of England for the last fifty years, embracing the 
 parliamentary lives of Burke, Fox, and Pitt; and, in fact, 
 a better knowledge of American politics, than prevails any 
 where in America. Nay, Sir, this is not all. These geniuses 
 usually learn a little law, also. They make that profession 
 the stepping-stone of their greatness, the school wherein to 
 train their faculties; and it is lamentable how large a part of 
 the bar, in Virginia, they make. 
 
 When a friend of Virginia reflects on the melancholy folly 
 and imposture of such pretensions, he may well exclaim, 
 with Tacitus ; 1 “They are ignorant of the laws; they retain 
 not the decrees of the Senate; they hold in derision the pro¬ 
 found principles of general jurisprudence; they shrink, with 
 alarm, from the study of wisdom, and the precepts of the 
 experienced sages; and eloquence, expelled from her own 
 fair kingdom, is driven into the contracted compass of a few 
 i Be Caus. Cor. Eloq. cap. 32. 
 
 C 287 2 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 commonplaces and stale saws. So, that she, who, once queen 
 of all the arts, filled the bosom with her august retinue (and 
 strained every faculty to its utmost in the breast in which 
 she resided), now shorn of her glory, without pomp, without 
 honor, without even the character of a liberal art, is learned 
 like any the most sordid handicraft;— sine apparatu, sine 
 lionore, pcene dixerim sine ingenuitate, quasi una ex sordi- 
 dissimis, artificiis, discatur!” 
 
 But I am proud to say, that such are not all the lawyers 
 of Virginia. We have at this moment at least three, on either 
 of whom the character of our state might safely rest, who 
 for learning in their profession, for liberal information, and 
 pure eloquence, are unsurpassed by any advocate living. You 
 anticipate me, Sir, in thinking of him, whom our eyes sought 
 here to-day, and to whom the Society and myself had trusted 
 to give grace and interest to this meeting. Of him, in his 
 absence, I will take leave to speak first. 
 
 Mainly intent on acquiring the profoundest knowledge of 
 a most extended profession, he has not failed to give to the 
 sacred Muses that part of his time, which Coke solemnly 
 allots from the pursuits of the jurist. Gifted by nature 
 with a peculiar distinctness and singleness of perception, as 
 well as an energy and warmth of mind rarely accompanying 
 the mathematical exactness of his thoughts, he is not more 
 eminently fitted for the advocacy of great causes, or for di¬ 
 recting the public mind by admirable popular essays, in the 
 most enviable of all styles, than he is for shining in that 
 brilliant list of advocates, Brougham, Mackintosh, and Jef¬ 
 frey, who have given lustre to the age, and imparted a new 
 merit to the bar by the finest pieces of criticism, and the 
 most luminous views of the philosophy of letters, that any 
 age has known. Experienced lawyers, indeed, if possessed 
 of understandings thus widened and liberalized by educa¬ 
 tion, always bring to the discussion of any topic, a capacity 
 for a more than usually dispassionate consideration, a clear¬ 
 ness of vision, a vigor of pursuit, a justesse of mind alto¬ 
 gether, which perceives the true weight of arguments, and 
 (what I have often thought a more rare and not less valuable 
 
 [ 288 ;] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 faculty) allows their clue merit to those prejudices, which 
 hang about almost all subjects, so naturally forestalling the 
 judgment, so difficult to be appreciated, and certainly not be 
 set down as worth only as much, as gross reason “of the 
 earth, earthy” may I not say, may palpably discern in their 
 intangible shapes. These qualities are part of the intellec¬ 
 tual character, which their professional pursuits form for 
 them. A disposition to view every thing according to real 
 life and nature, nursed by a familiarity with the strong and 
 manly wisdom of business and practical truth;—with this, a 
 rhetorical cast of mind, formed by habits of public speaking 
 for purposes of conviction and persuasion, often kindled into 
 eloquence, often sublimed into poetrythese are character¬ 
 istics of a class of men of letters, best of all, perhaps, suited 
 for laying the foundations of a permanent literature. 
 
 Of our elder Senator, well known to all the Union, I need 
 say nothing. But there is a third name, becoming every day 
 more and more dear to us, that from beyond the mountains 
 has stolen into the universal heart of Virginia, and lifts up 
 the gratified spirit of the land. I mean him, who was but 
 lately of the State Senate. I need not name him farther. 
 To this person would I offer my undissembled personal hom¬ 
 age, did I think the offering worthy his acceptance. Sweeter, 
 I know, will be the praise to him who bestows, than to him 
 who is the subject of it. Of all his contemporaries, it is he, 
 who has, perhaps, the justest claim to the praise of being one 
 of those, who sui memorcs alios fecere merendo. Merendo, 
 let me repeat, by quiet, unsoliciting merit. Checked by his 
 own invincible modesty, he wears no honors won by success¬ 
 ful daring, nor has he gained eminence, like other men, by 
 seeking it. Honors have gathered around his unpretending 
 greatness, and the golden harvest has bent forward to the 
 hand of the reaper. Possessed of the most truly Herculean 
 powers of candid, convincing argumentation, that Virginia 
 has ever boasted (which to characterize, I would point to 
 Madison’s Report in 1799, that most perfect piece of consecu¬ 
 tive reasoning, wherein every successive step of the writer’s 
 own mind is unveiled, so that not even stupidity can resist 
 
 C289] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 conviction, and declare this to be the model after which his 
 own argumentation is, perhaps, unconsciously, moulded), 
 these powers are made vital in his bosom by an unreached 
 depth of manly feeling. But I do not name him so much 
 as a monument of talent, as an astonishing instance of pro¬ 
 gressively growing talent; the most convincing example of 
 the indefinite extent to which learning, philosophically col¬ 
 lected, digested, and assimilated, may strengthen the facul¬ 
 ties. Had this eminent man listened to the prevailing cant 
 of Virginia genius, and surrendered himself up to a restless 
 anxiety for political life, and contentment with newspaper 
 science, instead of the great jurist of constantly cumulative 
 powers, we should perhaps have had only another village 
 wonder, to make more and more conspicuous the departing 
 greatness of a once learned and enlightened Commonwealth. 
 Perhaps there are contemporaries of his youth, who knew 
 him with no precocious talents, a matter of never forgotten 
 consequence in Virginia. 
 
 But note, I pray you, the paltry weed of the marshes. It 
 early springs high, rank, shortlived, and useless; while, like 
 this man, the royal oak, destined to permanence, solidity, and 
 majesty, slowly lifts its boughs higher and higher, till a suc¬ 
 cessive century has defined its annual circles around its 
 heart. When the public voice shall compel him, as the pub¬ 
 lic feeling has long solicited him, to go forth in our name to 
 the Union, Virginia will offer him to the common service 
 with a pride as elevated, as when in old and better times she 
 sought the highest glory of the country in honors demanded 
 for her best loved sons. It is such men as these, and a few 
 others, scarcely inferior, who are worthy to redeem, and will 
 redeem, Virginia from the reproach of making the noblest of 
 the sciences a debased, illiberal trade. 
 
 It was, perhaps, as much an effect as a cause of the decline 
 of learning, that the college of William and Mary abolished 
 the study of the classics altogether. The truly diverting rea¬ 
 sons are to be found in Mr. Jefferson’s Notes; and it is 3 
 Call’s Reports, I think, wherein the Rev. Mr. Bracken was 
 turned out to starve, according to law, and the poor humani- 
 
 [290] 
 
THE PEOSPECTS OF LETTEES AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 ties relegated to the grammar schools. The ludicrous phe¬ 
 nomenon of a college, without the ancient languages, and 
 the lamentable sight of the dust thick on the shelves of a 
 noble library, for the honor of Virginia, no longer exist. 
 Let us trust, that a not unworthy successor of the late la¬ 
 mented President may supply to the cause of learning the 
 great loss sustained by his premature decease. 
 
 It is from a combination of the prevalent evil influences, 
 and it is the consummation of them all, that so few of our 
 young men return from college with a deep passion and 
 enthusiasm for learning. With admiration of intellectual 
 excellence and pride of understanding, enough of them do 
 begin life, but few, indeed, with that hot eagerness for know¬ 
 ledge, which I term enthusiasm, because that term admits it 
 to be overstrained, and overstrained it ought to be at the 
 beginning. Sir, will you bear with me, while I attempt an 
 inadequate portraiture of the state of mind of such a student, 
 one whom nothing may lightly cheat of the resolution to be¬ 
 come learned and useful. With aims, that are loftier than after 
 life will ever permit to be attained, and contemplated means 
 that are purer than can ever be used with success, he lives, 
 for the first year or two after returning home, in an ideal 
 world. Through all that period he sees on every object “the 
 light that never was on sea or land.” This light, alas, must 
 soon pass away; but a brief period, and it is vanished; but if 
 in future time the meditative spirit catch the elasticity of 
 some unearthly, buoyant essence, it is ever this light, which 
 again illumines it, and, through life, this is “the fountain 
 light of all our day.” This lettered man’s state of prepara¬ 
 tion for the world resembles not the blank, passive, unimagi¬ 
 native condition of the young and yet uneloquent Patrick 
 Henry, with no stirring presentiments, no gropings of the 
 mighty spirit,—the consecrated weapons not yet sought out 
 in the armory of his genius, nondum JEtneo qucesitum f ul- 
 men ab antro; 1 but, like Chatterton, he warms already with 
 solemn emotions, like those which must be felt in the heat 
 of performing some great action. Then he begins to form 
 i Val. Flac. Argonaut. Lib. I. 277. 
 
 [291] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 for himself models for his future life. Now, is he fixed in 
 delight over the rich gloi'ies of the great advocate. He an¬ 
 ticipates the pleasure of rising up amid a circling crowd all 
 turned on him, hanging on his lips and imbibing every suc¬ 
 cessive passion, as the orator may put them on; or, passing 
 by these, which Tacitus, whose words I use, calls the vulgarly 
 known and inferior pleasures, he rests on the continued, 
 equable stream of delight, which buoys up the orator when 
 pronouncing a meditated discourse, or the dearer bursts of 
 pleasure from successful extempore audacity; he thinks of 
 these, and then he bows to the fame of Erskine! Now, is he 
 fixed on the rival glories of the great poet. He feels, while 
 most others but profess to feel, the God-given strength of 
 Milton; he exults in the learned raptures of Gray, and he 
 wanders often in the high and melancholy mysteries of Spen¬ 
 ser ’s Gothic labyrinth! then, he feels within himself the im¬ 
 pulse of thoughts, that “voluntary move harmonious num¬ 
 bers. ’ ’ He walks in retired groves, and cherishes the daring 
 hope of rivalling, in some happy hour, each immortal name, 
 save some solitary one, exempted by superior veneration 
 from his unrespectful ambition. To that one Campbell 
 points me the way, and I accept the sentiment as universal: 
 
 “To rival all but Shakspeare’s name below.” 
 
 Next (I believe I trace the gradation in philosophic order), 
 the elegancies of society enter into his fancy, and he mingles 
 these with his ideal combinations of excellence: then he 
 dwells on the mild character of the younger Pliny, the advo¬ 
 cate, the scholar, and the man of the world ; or rather on that 
 character, but yesterday fleshed in life and action, more per¬ 
 fect than any ideal combination,—that of George Canning, 
 the statesman, orator, poet, wit, classical scholar, and accom¬ 
 plished gentleman. 
 
 Last in the order of nature, he rises to the admiration of 
 that disinterested usefulness, wherein fame is not thought 
 of, for, credulous, he trusts that there has been such disinter¬ 
 estedness; he covets the merit of the people’s friend; he 
 searches out them, who, in history, have borne the proud im- 
 
 C292 3 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 press of the “great commoner”; but he little dreams of the 
 deep disgust of party strife, the poisoned barb of party hos¬ 
 tility, the drugged cup of party friendship, and the heart¬ 
 sickness at popular caprice, that drew Pulteney down, and 
 has dragged down many a pure patriot, and surrendered 
 them to the embrace of their pitying enemies. 
 
 Dear, delusive moments, you fleet away! the cold contact 
 of the world banishes you far away. Yet happiness is it to 
 have known you; it is good for them, who have felt your 
 unreal assurances; you are not wholly gone. The seeds, that 
 you alone can sow, are left, and in these are the vigor, the 
 vitality, that shall perish never. These are feelings that will 
 be scorned, I know, by them who are grave and austere, and, 
 perhaps, I owe an apology to the Society for what may be 
 suspected to be confessions, rather than a picture of general 
 nature in certain minds. The philosophical observer of na¬ 
 ture will not scorn them; for, though perhaps unfelt by him, 
 he knows that they are useful at the age at which they prevail, 
 and that they leave the most precious influences behind. ‘ ‘ Go 
 on,” he will say, “enjoy, while you may, these transports, 
 before you are given up either to the dim radiance of real 
 success, or the blackness of that despair, which is mute of 
 all light.” 
 
 Such is human nature! unfit for useful action, till it has 
 dropped the luminous mantle that shrouds it, but deriving 
 all its subsequent nobleness from the remaining recollections 
 of that gay vesture. Of this lettered enthusiasm, how few of 
 our young men have even a spark on quitting college; and 
 it is in great part from a false estimate of the value of learn¬ 
 ing. They undervalue true learning much, who suppose it 
 only capable of crowding the mind with other men’s 
 thoughts. When rightly acquired, it is not so much pleasant 
 food, as healthful aliment. The mind is not a passive store¬ 
 house, with materials either heaped in confusion, and so use¬ 
 less, or else arranged in order for useful remembrance, or for 
 vanity; but it is a living receiver. It digests; it assimilates; 
 it grows on this aliment; and though learning may not, cannot 
 open new arteries, or form new muscles, yet will it be to all, 
 
 [293] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 but a choice few in the world, that absolutely essential ma¬ 
 terial, which must quicken, and animate, and make elastic 
 every organ and every channel, or else they are never quick 
 and never to be made animate. 
 
 And now, Mr. President, having pointed out these de¬ 
 ficiencies and these much to be lamented inclinations, which 
 none can well deny to exist in Virginia, I have no systematic 
 plan to propose, nor any new remedy. I am waiting, with 
 anxious expectation, for the fuller developement of the effects 
 of causes now in active, cheerful operation in Virginia. 
 From these, I scarcely doubt that eminently good results will 
 issue. 
 
 There is one peculiar direction, to which, I confess, my 
 mind is wholly turned on this subject. Others have directed 
 their fertile ingenuity to plans for the advancement of popu¬ 
 lar education: it is a beneficent and patriotic object, and 
 demands and deserves able and ardent friends. My own 
 thoughts, I acknowledge, are exclusively devoted to another, 
 though kindred theme: it is the prospect of raising up in 
 Virginia a class of men of letters of the higher order; pro¬ 
 fessional men, of high literary taste mingling with their 
 professional feelings; but not without a few purely literary 
 characters. 
 
 It is not unusual to hear it said, that America does not 
 stand in need of men of this latter class. Sir, it is just the 
 kind of men that we do need. What do they, who say this, 
 think the destiny most to be desired for our country? Are 
 we not the second branch of the Anglo-Saxon stock, that 
 only stock of modern times fit for freedom in its purity and 
 its perilous might, and dare we preordain this to perpetual 
 inferiority ? Know we not, who we are, and what our capac¬ 
 ity? Would we have commerce, and agriculture, and the 
 professions, to absorb our talents, and shut up, except to 
 occasional visits, the boundless regions of polite learning and 
 pure science? Do they wish, by universal mediocrity in 
 learning, to see the English language in America made dis¬ 
 gusting with barbarisms, with professional phrases, and re¬ 
 finement hopelessly banished from our manners and our 
 
 C294 3 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 taste? The men whom we could least dispense with, to pre¬ 
 vent these things, at this moment, are the few persons in 
 America, who are of no profession but letters. 
 
 True, we want all the professions filled; but were it not a 
 breach of professional decorum, I could tell how many advo¬ 
 cates might be spared from the pressing emergencies of the 
 public service, from every bar with which I am acquainted 
 There is but little doubt, from the latest authentic astro¬ 
 nomical accounts, that there are lawyers enough in America 
 at this day to settle the wars of meum and tuum, in all the 
 seven primary planets; and, indeed, when, as Bishop Wilkins 
 hoped it would be at one day, it becomes as common to call 
 for our wings, as for hat and gloves, it is much to be hoped, 
 that instead of the Western country, which I hear is full, 
 nostri plena laboris, some gentlemen may assay those fine 
 fields. 
 
 Of the learned faculty in America, who, with Moliere’s 
 diploma, and a whole pharmacopoeia in their pockets, and 
 with the inestimable beneficence of horseback ubiquity in our 
 forests, make our days so long and so free from pain, and 
 thus richly deserve the motto which they assume, A Deo 
 salutem, literally translated by Lord Mansfield, God help the 
 patient, why, Sir, I trust it is not disrespectful to say, that 
 we do not need all of that profession, whom we have. 
 
 Nor do I think, that there is a scarcity of that other class 
 of public servants, politicians. But in fact and in serious¬ 
 ness, I will say thus much, and it will in a few words express 
 the radical mischief of our system, according to my appre¬ 
 hension. As soon as the first ten years of our Union, under 
 this Constitution, were past, I would, that it had been en¬ 
 graven over the doorway of every college in America, that it 
 is to be the error of America, that every one will think that 
 the community needs some direct service from him; he will 
 set out for public utility, and never once imagine that he is a 
 part of that community, and that there is no way for pro¬ 
 moting the public good like that of self-improvement by 
 individuals. 
 
 We want men of refined minds in our country residences; 
 
 £ 2951 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 we want accomplished writers; we want men of elegant lei¬ 
 sure. To this last the rich only are privileged. But we want, 
 more than all, a number of political men, who are not law¬ 
 yers. The humanizing influence of these classes would do 
 every thing for the cause of letters, refinement, and true 
 philosophical policy among us. Of political science, this is 
 most to be observed: in the last two centuries it has made 
 two prodigious strides. First, when the romantic realities 
 of chivalry passed away, this science, which had been but the 
 art of reigning by dissimulation, and which had been given 
 up by the knights to ecclesiastics, as unworthy of their own 
 consideration, soon became, “in shape and gesture, proudly 
 eminent,” the most important, and demanding the loftiest 
 talents. Who can believe, that the cabinet would have con¬ 
 tained the untamed soul of Chatham had the lists been still 
 open to him to rival the renown of Sir Philip Sidney? Who 
 would degrade Charles Fox so much as to imagine him seated 
 at a council-board of monks, striving in the ignoble war of 
 words, while the shock of the tournament rung in his ears; 
 while his shield was yet white, his escutcheon unemblazoned, 
 and that motto, so justly his own, Without fear and with¬ 
 out reproach, yet unearned? But a second great step has 
 been taken. Fox did not think it unworthy of himself to 
 throw out a sarcasm on the new Political Economy; he pro¬ 
 fessed not to comprehend it, and would not read Adam 
 Smith. The statesman who should now repeat this remark, 
 would be laughed at, as behind the age, and pronounced in¬ 
 competent for his business; but there are some men, who, if 
 they cannot outstrip the age, make a merit of lagging behind 
 its upstart audacity in knowledge. The first improvement 
 made it liberal, the last alone has made it philosophical. 
 
 I trust that we shall, within fifty years, have some men 
 devoted to every single branch of liberal knowledge. I trust 
 we shall have some lawyers, who are devoted to the curiosi¬ 
 ties of their profession; some physicians, who will love to seek 
 into the history of disease, among all nations, in all ages; 
 some passionate lovers of black letter; classical scholars, thor¬ 
 oughly versed in the higher criticism of Germany, than 
 
 C 296 ] 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 which metaphysics has no more interesting field, and history 
 no more valuable supplement; scholars, who will leave no 
 ancient passage extant unread, with all the commentators 
 thereon; that the minute labors of prosody may not escape 
 their microscopic search, but rather be to some a source of 
 extreme delight; some lovers of metaphysics, who will leave 
 not even Duns Scotus unexplored; many mathematicians, 
 who will permit no mystery of infinitesimals to hide itself 
 from them. In short, I desire these things because then I 
 shall be sure that there are some among us, who love know¬ 
 ledge for itself. All knowledge of what ever sort, it w T ill, 
 I hope, be possible to find in the hands of some among us, 
 for no knowledge is useless. No national evidence, but this 
 extreme passion in some few for knowledge most of which is 
 not strictly practical, can be given to prove that we possess 
 all necessary practical information. But really it is so far, 
 that we in Virginia have to travel before we shall reach this 
 extreme border, that it is not needfid to talk of the possibility 
 or desirableness of our ever attaining it. 
 
 I chiefly long for an ardent love to rise up for rich, diversi¬ 
 fied, and profound practical knowledge, that will be of use 
 in all our active, in all our quiet moments, such as the nine¬ 
 teenth century demands and can afford us. There are some 
 among us, who cry out for practical education, and their plan 
 seems to be to teach the sciences only,—the arts of life. I 
 have one answer to all these: he who thinks that all practical 
 education consists in learning the sciences, is much more 
 mistaken than he who places it solely in literature. I give it 
 as my opinion, that if either were exclusively taught, it 
 should be the latter. Practical to all intents wdll that know¬ 
 ledge be, that raises and keeps alive any feelings “touched 
 to fine issues,” just in the same sense that poetry is practi¬ 
 cally useful. The practical loss to man, if arithmetic were 
 reduced to counting on the fingers, would not be so great, 
 as if poetry, the department of fancy, were wholly neglected. 
 Let us have, first, a love of books; then, having that in view, 
 all experience bids us lay a deep substratum of ancient learn¬ 
 ing, to which add all knowledge apt for peace and war. 
 
 [2971] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Iu conclusion,—for I have already detained you too long, 
 —I think we do not delude ourselves when we imagine that 
 our own Society is to become a useful agent in the progres¬ 
 sive work of American literature. Composed wholly of per¬ 
 sons graduated with credit, and thus advanced to no 
 inconsiderable degree of knowledge, it is a valuable institu¬ 
 tion ; first, on account of the familiar conferences on curious 
 points of knowledge, which it enjoins, at its weekly meetings; 
 for at these will be scientifically laid the first parts of that 
 edifice, which we must build, each with his own hands, on the 
 foundation secured at college. But better than this is the 
 annual assembly of its distant members, met to interchange 
 their zealous wishes for the success of the good cause in 
 Virginia first, and then throughout the land; to listen to the 
 pleasing verse, and hear, besides, the sentiments of some one, 
 who, though he be not wise, will have ever sought wisdom. 
 
 I consider the capacity of America for intellectual excel¬ 
 lence of every sort now put beyond doubt. But few books 
 have yet been written; still the partial exhibitions that have 
 been made, will satisfy the world, that the taunts, always 
 illiberal, are now absolutely false. Europe yet knows our 
 literature only in the very respectable writings of Irving and 
 Cooper; that much better literary talents, than either of 
 these men possesses, are scattered through America, but few 
 of us are ignorant. I rejoice that the spirit is now cheerily 
 up. I rejoice at the struggling gleams of genius, that are 
 bursting out from our large cities, and consecrating our re¬ 
 tired places; and, above all, I rejoice at the unequivocal 
 dawn of that crowning power, the latest and noblest mode of 
 national refinement, the power of true poetry, in Bryant, 
 and Percival, and Halleck. 
 
 Methinks, even now, I behold, as in solemn vision, two 
 superhuman figures: the one an aged minstrel, that with 
 grand and melancholy gesture, yet with greater pride, points 
 to the receding past. First, the calm pleasure of learned con¬ 
 templation stills his mind; now, he fires with the abrupt and 
 lurid flash of Scaldic genius; now, rushes, with lyric rapidity, 
 over the glories of the tournament and the banquet. Spain 
 
 C2983 
 
THE PROSPECTS OF LETTERS AND TASTE IN VIRGINIA 
 
 lends the inspiring memory of her Cid; France, the happy 
 buoyancy of her gay land, and Saxon England lifts up his 
 soul with the wisdom of sturdy philosophy and the holy 
 sentiment of long desired freedom, alas! not yet wholly en¬ 
 joyed. I kneel before this vision; it is the Literary Spirit of 
 the old world. 
 
 But behold, another! It is a youth. For a brief moment 
 his spirit seems dim, like the sun, “unlightsome first, 
 though of ethereal mould;” but soon he looks abroad; he 
 contemplates, with all the delighted astonishment of inexpe¬ 
 rience, the charms of nature, the beauty and harmony of 
 moral truth; he hears the two awful voices of liberty, those 
 of the mountains and the ocean; his eye kindles, and his chest 
 expands, with the first consciousness of the inrushing afflatus; 
 he extends his arm already with the swelling emotion of trag¬ 
 edy and the energy of epic; fresh and vivid are his senti¬ 
 ments, and his glance is forward; he scorns the submission of 
 monarchy, the right of hereditary imbecility, and turns from 
 the poor, dishonest pageant of pensioned literature; un¬ 
 checked, he walks abroad, and all the good influences, piety, 
 and patriotism, and civility, left to spontaneous growth in 
 but one land in the world, there acknowledge his life-giving 
 services. Him I hail, with deep delight and pride. He is 
 the Literary Genius of America ! 
 
 [299] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 AN ESSAY BY J. BURTON HARRISON 
 
 (Reprinted from the Southern Review, February, 1832) 
 
 The History of England. By the Right Hon. Sir James 
 McIntosh, M. P. Vols. 1, 2. Philadelphia. 1830. 
 
 T HE subject, of which the present article is to treat, is an 
 august nation. In the statistics of the world, no people 
 count larger items of power than England; none rivals her 
 wealth, and in the perfection to which she has brought the arts 
 of life she is the wonder and the benefactress of all. There 
 are other titles, more venerable far, to exalt her in all eyes: 
 these were nobly indicated by Wordsworth in 1802, when he 
 mourned for the tardy arising within her of a spirit com¬ 
 mensurate with the great part of liberatress of the world, 
 which he predicted she was to play. He fondly complained 
 that 
 
 altar, sword and pen, 
 
 Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower, 
 
 Have forfeited their ancient English dower 
 Of inward happiness. 
 
 If each single word of this complaint be well meditated, it 
 opens all the characteristic glories of his country. To Amer¬ 
 ica, however, this power, thus august and venerable in her¬ 
 self, may stand in a peculiar relation. All men know the 
 intimate intellectual affiliation which has hitherto connected 
 America with her. For ourselves, we have too often felt 
 within us the impulse of doubts touching this interesting 
 relation, to suppose its consideration wholly indifferent to 
 others. We intend to examine it, therefore, in a two-fold 
 view. First, we shall endeavour to put a philosophic esti- 
 
 £3013 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 mate on some of those opinions and sentiments, which are 
 the main elements of the English civilization. By the civi¬ 
 lization of a nation, we desire here to express the sum of those 
 results which constitute the character, intellectual and moral, 
 public and domestic of that nation. Suppose a Linnreus of 
 the intellect wished to impersonate all the characteristics 
 distinctive of the European man, from the Asiatic, the Afri¬ 
 can, the American: he would, in the eclectic process of get¬ 
 ting materials, find some traits peculiar to single nations of 
 Europe, some so much more strongly pronounced in one than 
 in the rest, as almost to deserve to be called peculiar, and 
 others common to them all as Europeans. Having finished 
 his work he would exult that he had embodied the noblest 
 specimen of all intellectual and moral physiology. He would 
 be at no loss to mark to which nation belongs the glory of any 
 one of his endowments, nor which endowment it is that con¬ 
 tributes most to make him the lord of creation. We beg to 
 divine, in our humble way, what he would have borrowed 
 from the homo sapiens Brit annus, and how far he would con¬ 
 sider that the European man, (who has confessedly traced 
 nature “up to the sharp peak of her sublimest elevation,”) 
 owes his supremacy to his British blood. We subjoin, how¬ 
 ever, that if it be true as Justinian in the first preface to the 
 Pandects, §5th, says: “artes cum etsi vilissimse sint, omnes 
 tamen infinite sunt,” more true it is, that to take the height 
 and depth of a nation’s entire reason, is indeed, an infinite 
 work. We, therefore, shall only adventure to throw out some 
 hints on a small number of points in our topic. Secondly, 
 we shall endeavour to weigh the influence which the civiliza¬ 
 tion of England is having on us, for good or ill. 
 
 I. The philosophical mind of Hegel has divided the past 
 history of civilization into four Missions, the Oriental, the 
 Greek, the Roman, and the Teutonic. But we think it too 
 vague to embrace all modern civilization under the name 
 Teutonic: there are distinct lines enough in that of Europe 
 at present to admit of a partition, and we avail ourselves of 
 the hint to ask what seems to have been the mission of Eng¬ 
 land in the great toil? In pondering on this inquiry there 
 
 [ 302 ] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 figures itself to the respectful imagination, something like a 
 solemn vision of the Peers of the Fairy Queen, issuing forth 
 on great and definite vocations, to reclaim a world in bar¬ 
 barism to the cause of truth, honour and justice. There are 
 certain domestic sentiments, which we might almost admit 
 are emphatically English, which the world could as ill spare 
 as any of the richest jewels of modern life: these hardly re¬ 
 quire enumeration. The free inquiring spirit, in matters of 
 religious faith, also might be set down as theirs emphatically, 
 had not Protestant Germany equalled it. Then again, beyond 
 all doubt, there is much about Shakspeare’s psychology and 
 manner that is essentially English—we should be glad to 
 have time and sagacity enough to develope this and add it 
 to our summary. In no other great light of her literature 
 might it be very profitable to search for the nationalisms. 
 Bacon might have been D’Aguesseau, or Newton Kepler, 
 or Gibbon Bayle, with only the alteration of more or less 
 talent and learning. But we will not detain the reader by 
 an inadequate sketch of these general titles. We love to 
 admit that in the matter of civil liberty, she was blessed with 
 the destiny of maintaining in practice, more or less perfect, 
 many of the principal rights of man. The representation of 
 the Commons, the voting the supplies, freedom of the press 
 from previous censorship, the unlawfulness of arbitrary im¬ 
 prisonment, the trial of accused persons and of differences 
 about meum and tuum conducted viva voce, not before Prae¬ 
 torian Judges merely, but selecti judices of the vicinage; of 
 these great rights was she the depositary, and with more or 
 less vestal purity did she preserve them. What, though 
 the civilians always had held that “domus tutissimum cuique 
 refugium atque receptaculum sit?” (1. 18 ff. de in jus. voc .) 
 —England only had truly made every man’s house his castle. 
 What, though Ulpian could write, and Tribonian sanction 
 under Justinian, the formal declaration that all men are by 
 nature free, and by nature equal ? Yet no where but in Eng¬ 
 land was there equality before the law, and true impartiality 
 in the courts. What, though it is written in letters of gold 
 in the German publicists that “the right of voting taxes is 
 
 [303] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 as old on the German soil, as the polity of the States itself, ’ ’ 
 nay, that in the old Electorate of Hanover, not to mention 
 the liberal States bordering on France, this right anciently 
 existed in the Provincial Estates, and was still in practice 
 in the Austrian Tyrol up to 1815 ? Yet still, England, it was, 
 of all the monarchies, who alone kept the right inviolate, 
 that she might serve as a safe model to so many kingdoms 
 whose charters secure that right to their subjects since the 
 General Peace. What though the glory of the rule in Somer¬ 
 set’s case is not peculiar to her, but has always been law in 
 France as Dupin declares—or though Madame de Stael pro¬ 
 nounces that in France, and not in France only, but in Na¬ 
 ples and Spain, what is modern is not privilege—for this is 
 ancient—but it is prerogative that is parvenu. Yet to Eng¬ 
 land again, must the liberal monarchies of the present day 
 pay a large homage for her pattern. 
 
 The greatest civil glory of England was, when she was 
 alone among nations, in the practice of any thing called 
 liberal; when the great theorists of human rights in other 
 countries, who made all Europe ring from side to side with 
 their dogmas, whether the fearless Voltaire or the wiser 
 Montesquieu, could find but one model and that England. 
 At that era was England the idol of all the paladins of lib¬ 
 erty—she had a shrine in every student’s tower, a little 
 chapel on the side of the remotest roads for the wayfaring 
 devotee. But, though it may seem invidious, yet it must be 
 said, the moment that nations began to imitate her, she effec¬ 
 tually forbade their idolizing her. In fact, English freedom 
 is, at the core, essentially selfish and exclusive, and free Eng¬ 
 land has been fated never to be the champion of struggling 
 freedom in any other country. When Sheridan pictured to 
 the House of Lords that sublime prosopopoeia of Great 
 Britain stretching her arm across the ocean to vindicate the 
 rights of helpless India, the nation adored his rhetoric, but 
 the cause of justice was as fairly in mortmain before Parlia¬ 
 ment as if it had been in Chancery. While the weary years 
 of the trial were elapsing, what did magnanimous England, 
 who is so scrupulously just in the Common Pleas and King’s 
 
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 Bench, communicate to India from her stores of distributive 
 justice? Let Mr. Hastings answer, who like Verres survived 
 the vote of impeachment nearly thirty years in affluence, 
 but happier than Verres, found no Antony come to do tardy 
 justice to his pillaged province. It is a question, how 7 much 
 of the hostility of the British people to the French Revolu¬ 
 tion is to be traced to this selfish, exclusive quality—to the 
 fact that British liberalism has a wdiolly different basis from 
 all other, that she builds on precedent not right, on history 
 not theory, on the custom of England not the dicta of the 
 new-created “College of the Rights of Man.” However this 
 may be, her opposition to France, until the treaty of Amiens, 
 was far more consistent, more raisonnee, than that even of the 
 Sovereigns at Pillnitz. Her system was the truest foe in 
 Europe to the revolutionary principle—truer than that of 
 Austria—just as Arminianism may be said to have its mortal 
 foe not in Paganism or Mahommedanism but in the system 
 of Calvin. From 1803 till 1814 no Frenchman durst pretend 
 that the cause of France w r as the cause of liberalism, although 
 it w r as, in part, the cause of national independence, for Eng¬ 
 land distinctly refused ever to recognize the ruler elected by 
 France for herself; but neither can it be asserted that Eng¬ 
 land was fighting the battle of the world’s rights. This self- 
 complacent notion is airier than any vanity that floats in 
 Limbo. She was, in truth, fighting for self-preservation, for 
 the destruction of France, and for the unfettering of her 
 commerce from the Continental system.—She ought, too, to 
 be content with her gains. She has acquired command of the 
 mouths of the Elbe, the Weser and the Ems, with Heligo¬ 
 land ; has added to the mastery of the Straits of the Mediter¬ 
 ranean the control of the Nile with Malta, of the Adriatic with 
 the Ionian isles; has nothing to desire in the passage to India 
 now that she owns the cape of Mauritius, and can wish for 
 nothing in the gulf of Mexico—except Cuba. But the war at 
 an end, let us attend the Liberatress of the World to Vienna. 
 And first comes Genoa; she falls at the feet of England, 
 pleads that a British General had liberated her, and had pro¬ 
 claimed the restoration of the liberties once so jealously main- 
 
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ARIS SONIS FOCXSQUE 
 
 tained within her walls. Sardinia interposes, and England 
 meekly disavows the right of Lord Bentinek to have made 
 such proclamation, and confesses that reasons of high policy 
 have led her to consent to the incorporation of that republic 
 into the kingdom of Sardinia. Behold! poor Genoa departs 
 and is led sub liasta. Next comes the case of the King of 
 Saxony, once co-Eleetor of the Empire with the head of the 
 House of Hanover. Here Prussia stands up, and exhibits the 
 deed of Lord Castlereagh, signed and sealed before the open¬ 
 ing of the Congress, agreeing for England that the whole 
 kingdom of Saxony shall be absorbed by Prussia. Of all out¬ 
 rages on the Law of Nations suffered at that Congress, this 
 would have been the most atrocious. The moral sense of 
 Europe thrilled with the horror of it. Who so well as Eng¬ 
 land, the only power who had preserved her independence 
 from the pollution of a foreign footstep, who so well as Eng¬ 
 land, whose gold, and that alone, had fed and armed the 
 contingents of all the Allies, thus making her the primum 
 mobile of the entire campaigns of 1813 and 1814, and there¬ 
 fore entitled to dictate submission at least to what was just 
 —who so well as she, could have covered Saxony with her 
 patronship—Champion of the Independence of States? But 
 she was bound by solemn parchment; had covenanted with 
 the hot haste of shame, before suspicion of their purpose had 
 called out the scorn of the world. It is curious to know who 
 it was that did stand up for Saxony against Prussia, England 
 and Russia. For various reasons, Austria was not inactive 
 on the side of humanity, but there was another voice: it was 
 that of France, conquered France, proceeding from the 
 mouth of Talleyrand. This man (a true Frenchman, we sin¬ 
 cerely believe, to whom the Duke of Wellington and Lord 
 Holland do nothing more than justice,) had, by his extraordi¬ 
 nary genius, speedily succeeded in rendering the influence 
 of France as great as if she had been an Ally through the 
 war, and not now the thrall and victim of them all. It was 
 he who admonished them that the war they had all been 
 waging was based, first, on the right of ancient rulers, sec¬ 
 ond, on the maxim, that mere conquest gives no just right 
 
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ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 of dominion. The indignation of Europe, and the tenacity 
 of the imprisoned King of Saxony, finally induced the British 
 Cabinet to recede from its ground, and Prussia, finding her¬ 
 self unsupported except by Russia, submitted, just as Napo¬ 
 leon was landing from Elba, to accept the larger half of the 
 Saxon territory with the smaller half of the population. So 
 much for the Liberatress! In the summer that preceded the 
 Congress, she had played a role no less conspicuous and not 
 more to be proud of between Sweden and Norway. Heaven 
 knows what feelings England has when she hears the name 
 of Denmark! But it is a stale topic—that affair of 1807; 
 Denmark had forgotten it we hope. But to signalize her 
 tyrannous might once more in the Baltic, the Liberatress 
 most honourably fulfils a stipulation made with Bernadotte 
 to guarantee him Norway as an appendage to Sweden, in con¬ 
 sideration of his consenting to the retention of Finland by 
 Russia. Denmark had been terrified into submission to this 
 spoliation. In vain Norway avouches history to prove hers 
 an independent crown, elects a Prince of the royal line of 
 Holstein for her King, and utterly refuses to be subject to 
 her natural enemy, Sweden. Bernadotte marches in by land, 
 and an English fleet in the exercise of a gentle force, block¬ 
 ades the coast to intercept the annual supply of corn which 
 nature compels Norway to import: this mild admonition soon 
 brings her to reason. Need we behold her on another field, 
 the Peninsula? If there were any country where gratitude 
 was chiefly due to England, it was Spain. While the King 
 was detained a captive and an ignoble trifler at Valengay 
 and the Trianon, England, by her men and money, together 
 with the Junta, went on to achieve what was perhaps the 
 most difficult of all the enterprises against Bonaparte. Well¬ 
 ington swept over the Pyrenees and the Junta held sway over 
 a land not burdened by one single Frenchman. They call to 
 the King with romantic loyalty, he comes among them under 
 promise to accept the Constitution they had framed. That 
 it was the duty of England to see that this noble people re¬ 
 ceived some compensation, in chartered privileges, for their 
 heroism and loyalty, none can deny. She must therefore have 
 
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ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 been gratified by the King’s acceptance of the Constitution, 
 even if she did not wholly approve of the Constitution. It 
 was perhaps quite as good as that brought by Lord Ponsonby 
 from Brazil for Portugal. The King retracts his promises; 
 did England remonstrate in her own right, and demand at 
 least the bestowal of a modified charter? True, when Riego 
 afterwards re-established the Constitution, England was 
 neither aiding nor consenting to the invasion by the French, 
 but a protest is all the world knows her to have used to save 
 Spain. Nor is it enough for her to plead the absence of right 
 to interfere in the internal concerns of other nations: whence 
 then comes the assumption by Five Powers of the Right to 
 hold General Congresses to regulate the highest interests of 
 foreign sovereignties? Whence the share that England her¬ 
 self had in dictating to Russia and Holland that they should 
 grant Constitutions to Poland and Belgium? Consistency 
 and honour alike require that she should not have permitted 
 this interference against liberty. 
 
 Admit that she never soiled herself by becoming a member 
 of the Holy Alliance, though it is possible that the main rea¬ 
 son was that alleged by Lord Castlereagh at the time, viz: 
 that the instrument was signed by the emperor and kings in 
 their own names, not by their ministers, whereas the King of 
 England can constitutionally do no official act, except it be 
 accompanied by the counter signature of some responsible 
 minister. It is, however, not the accession to the Holy Alli¬ 
 ance which need make criminal all its signers. The President 
 of the United States was invited to sign it: he replied that 
 our permanent policy would not permit us to entangle our¬ 
 selves in European leagues; but, this apart, that there was 
 little in the Act of Alliance that was not already the prac¬ 
 tice of America. The act itself, the work of Alexander’s own 
 pen at Paris, is called by the continental writers the consecra¬ 
 tion of politics by religion, and merely amounts to an engage¬ 
 ment of each sovereign who signs, to observe the precepts of 
 Christianity in his relations with other powers and towards 
 his own subjects. It was in the act of the congress of Aix-la- 
 Chapelle, (a congress of the Five Powers rather than of the 
 
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ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 Holy Allies, who are not fewer than eleven perhaps of four¬ 
 teen kings) and subsequently at Troppau, Laybach and 
 Verona, that the odious claim of interference to uphold the 
 two principles of morality and legitimacy whenever sub¬ 
 verted, was first proclaimed. Now, though true it is, that 
 even Castlereagh protested, through the English Ambassador 
 at Troppau, against the recognition of the right of any one 
 of the Five Powers to invade Naples, and though Mr. Can¬ 
 ning not only did the same subsequently with regard to 
 Spain, but also most effectually plucked England from the 
 pollution of longer fraternization with the legitimates, yet 
 with protest it began and with protest it ended. The four 
 other Powers did their will. 
 
 A word of two points wherein she assumes to have deserved 
 well of general humanity about this time. She was busy in 
 procuring the consent of the nations, at the first and second 
 treaties of Paris, to the abolition of the slave trade: had this 
 been purely disinterested, we do not know that it would set 
 England rectus in curia on that subject. The eagerness with 
 which she bargained to make herself the worst agent in its 
 history, by the pacto del assiento in the treaty of Utrecht, 
 whereby she was assured the monopoly of the right to supply 
 the Spanish American Provinces with slaves for thirty years, 
 (about four thousand annually) and the tenacity with which, 
 when war had suspended its exercise, she claimed its liberal 
 execution to the end, will not be easily compensated. Again, 
 Lord Exmouth’s treaty with Algiers in 1816, stipulates that 
 “in the event of future wars with any European power,” all 
 Christian prisoners should be subject to ransom or exchange 
 during the war, according to the custom of Europe, and to 
 unconditional liberation at the end. Mr. Kent says, there 
 would be no praise too high for this treaty, as for that of 
 which Montesquieu said il stipidoit pour le genre humain, 
 “if a great Christian power on this side of the Atlantic, 
 w T hose presence and whose trade is constantly seen and felt 
 in the Mediterranean, had not seemed to have been entirely 
 forgotten.”— (Comm. I. 177.) There is something mysteri¬ 
 ous, in fact, in the unconcern manifested before that time in 
 
 n309H 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 England about letting these same barbaresques go loose out 
 of the Mediterranean to pillage the American trade. And by 
 the way, her declaration at Ghent that she regarded as a sine 
 qua non , our covenant not to purchase any more lands of the 
 Indians, shews that she thinks the interests of general hu¬ 
 manity by no means required the farther spread of civiliza¬ 
 tion in America, and that the Mistress of the Ocean, unlike 
 the heathen gods, does not love to see men congregate in 
 cities, except they be under British subjection. But some¬ 
 thing more conclusive than all this, is the following: there is 
 one department where her liberality and regard for general 
 humanity, may be put to the test with peculiar propriety. 
 We mean her administration of international maritime law. 
 This is that part of the great field of sovereign justice, which, 
 it would seem, should differ the least of all codes from the 
 pure maxims cequi et boni. Ask how a nation interprets this 
 law, and answer for yourself her claim to be thought philan- 
 thropical. Now, if the truth be told, of all tyrannies existing 
 in theory or practice, the maritime law of Great-Britain is 
 the most unmitigated. And all Europe is galled by it. The 
 common prayer of the whole continent is that America (their 
 only hope in this) may speedily attain to a naval strength 
 sufficient to rebuke and check her, and to compel her to re¬ 
 nounce her odious doctrines, as do she will, most assuredly 
 one day. 
 
 After the events connected with the general pacification in 
 1814, it were to be imagined that not one foreign admirer 
 would exist to impute to England the chief patronage of lib¬ 
 eralism. Madame de Stael was the last of that list of which 
 Montesquieu is the first, and De Lolme the middle name. 
 That illustrious lady in her last years, could only say for 
 England that the House of Commons was the tribune of 
 Europe, where the public reason and rights of the Conti¬ 
 nent were asserted; but the voices that she loved to hear were 
 only those of the opposition members, and a liberal opposi¬ 
 tion alas! makes no epochs in history. Still that this lofty 
 assumption continues to dwell in the English mind, none can 
 forget since the ever memorable speech of Mr. Canning, on 
 
 £3103 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 the motion for sending troops to Portugal. England has 
 scarcely ever shone in a more imposing light than in that 
 speech. The England he that day bodied forth was in truth 
 a Titan, and he lent her words suited to the “large utterance 
 of the early gods.” It were unfair to note how so noble a 
 speech led to an issue merely the smallest and most imper¬ 
 ceptible of all the foreign expeditions on record; for, who 
 knows the end of it? Quite as invidious would it be in any 
 one to carp at his attributing to himself the introduction of 
 the South American States into the circle of nations, calling 
 them in to redress the balance of Europe, though neither 
 was England the earliest among the first-rate powers of the 
 earth to recognize them, nor will they serve in any degree 
 to redress the equilibrium of Europe. A better purpose they 
 will serve England, and that is as a market for those manu¬ 
 factures which the policy of self-preservation among the con¬ 
 tinental powers has excluded from their own ports. We are 
 so bold as to say, that Mr. Monroe's warning to the Holy 
 Alliance, that we should regard any interference by its mem¬ 
 bers to reduce the colonies under Spanish subjection as an 
 act unfriendly to us, did more for the freedom of those col¬ 
 onies, and for the patronage of liberty, than has been done 
 by England in her whole history, since the day when Queen 
 Elizabeth sent troops to aid the Protestants in the Low 
 Countries. The voice of the earth-born democracy, was in¬ 
 deed, on that occasion, worthy of the reverend listening of 
 Lucretius, of Hooker or of Jones. But we pass by these two 
 circumstances to come to the prediction which the minister 
 hazarded of a general war, and that a war of opinions, at 
 hand. Mr. Canning was a great statesman, but then again 
 he was an Englishman and an insular, as Berkeley calls them. 
 He thought he foresaw, if such a war came on, a perilous 
 part assigned to England, for, she would naturally be the 
 Champion of Liberty, avouched by all aspirants, the refuge 
 of the discontented, looked to, prayed to by all liberals, 
 among whom he knew there were many turbulent spirits. 
 This would, indeed, be a responsible part—the Hollis of 
 politics, and would demand immense discretion. To-day we 
 
 C3iin 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 smile at his prescience. He did not dream of the French 
 Revolution, though there were politicians not endowed with 
 second sight who had little doubt, after the fall of Villele, 
 that the throne of the restored Bourbons would not last much 
 longer. In fact, such a war as Mr. Canning described was 
 only to be apprehended from the bosom of France. But sup¬ 
 pose France to have remained as in 1823, and a general war 
 of opinion, of the people demanding constitutions in Prussia, 
 Austria, Italy, and the Peninsula, all at once—England is 
 precisely that power in the world which could least play the 
 part of patron-saint and protectress of the votaries of the 
 free opinion. We do but suppose a case which had virtually 
 occurred between 1817 and 1823; and which of the nations 
 was absolutely insignificant, counting for nothing, in that 
 memorable period, except England alone ? Austria and legit¬ 
 imized France quell Naples, Sardinia and Spain, while 
 Prussia and Russia stand ready to back them; the Dema¬ 
 gogues of Germany are crushed by Prussia, while England 
 remains the imperturbable neutral, a spectatress of it all. 
 No! no ! millions in armament and subsidies to overthrow the 
 Continental System she would freely give again, if needed; 
 but she is of too good a taste for enthusiasm, too fastidious 
 for knight errantry, too aristocratic to patronise levellers, 
 too concrete to give countenance to theory, and too reverend 
 of authority and history ever to uphold subjects against their 
 ancient rulers. This prediction was therefore only the 
 noblest incense that was ever offered to English vanity. It 
 is manifest that there is but one power in Europe gifted by 
 nature with endowments for that sublime part on the scene 
 of history: that power of course is France. Whenever France 
 is mute, kept mute by rulers whose cautious prudence chooses 
 for a while to thwart her ruling passion, then has the strug¬ 
 gling freedom of other countries no advocate indeed. That 
 such is the vocation of France in future history, who doubts? 
 Such did she begin to know herself splendidly even under the 
 Martignac ministry. England has another vocation. She 
 would prove the conservative principle in Europe to prevent 
 all change, except that conducted by the extremity of cau- 
 
 C 312] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 tion. Even Austria will not equal her in this. The problem 
 of the amelioration of human nature, as of the immortal strife 
 between liberty and fate in the Greek tragedies, is to recon¬ 
 cile the perpetual antagonism of the desirable with the 
 actual. France and America will stand for the desirable, 
 but England in consistency only for the actual. This, 
 though not the most amicable of titles, is yet, we submit, very 
 respectable. 
 
 But to proceed to another division of our topic. We con¬ 
 fess that we put a lower estimate on English civilization, be¬ 
 cause of the undeniable absence of a love of the ideal which 
 runs through it all. It seems a received canon wherever the 
 English language prevails, that the nature before our eyes, 
 its interpretation, its imitation, its adaptation, is the highest 
 object of intellectual action. We venture to hold this to be 
 far from true. There is an ideal arising out of all the exhi¬ 
 bitions of this very nature, which is a just object of that 
 action, and plainly its highest object. Above and beyond 
 nature (but out of materials which nature furnishes) exists 
 the empire of pure philosophy and the just domain of what is 
 strictly called imagination. There is a beauty higher and 
 truer than nature in the physical world; it was in the mind 
 of Claude; for, as Forsyth felt, even when viewing the en¬ 
 rapturing prospect “at evening from the top of Fiesole,” 
 and in Vallombrosa, nature but rarely gives more than the 
 elements of superb landscapes which the abstracting artist 
 combines into perfect beauty. In no department of any one 
 of the fine arts, we dare to say, is copying implicitly even 
 from nature the highest reach of the art. The quarry of 
 Kaphael is a nature sublimated far above reality, yet in no 
 respect false to the nature it leaves below it. Let no one 
 here imagine that thus to claim a resort higher than nature 
 herself, is to abandon all standard and discard all rules. 
 The contrary holds literally. All just rules are oracles of the 
 ideal: the abstracted principles found true in general expe¬ 
 rience. Let us illustrate this position. A youthful reader 
 of the Fourth Canto of Childe Harold, would imagine Byron 
 to have most genuine sense of the beauty of the Venus of the 
 
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AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Tribune; he is captivated first by the sincere enthusiasm of 
 the poet, and still more by the unaffected scorn expressed for 
 all the base mechanic rules of criticism in sculpture. Now, it 
 may be an uncourtly opinion, but every one who travels in 
 Italy, will be apt to utter it for some reason or other: the 
 noble bard was wholly devoid of taste in the arts. For our¬ 
 selves we will presume to conclude it from this very scorn 
 expressed for rules. It proceeded in him from an undiscrim¬ 
 inating sentiment of admiration which is far from being the 
 highest homage due to the marble art, or from an inaptitude 
 to view in detail the beauty which enchanted him in the 
 ensemble. The term mechanical is a singular misnomer. 
 Would Byron but have read da Vinci or Mengs, or could 
 he but have listened to Goethe, he would have known 
 that those who feel most intensely, and most unerringly on 
 the subject of the imaginative Sisters, Painting and Sculp¬ 
 ture, treat most reverentially the great rules which are the 
 common sentiments of the wise, the refined and definite ob¬ 
 servers of all countries and ages. Let any common person of 
 that army of English who annually overrun the Tribune, 
 the Vatican and the Studio, bearing under their arm 
 Madame Starke’s Guide-book, and in their memory distinct* 
 recollection of Tooke’s Pantheon, analyze the emotions he 
 experiences on observing any particular piece. If he have 
 obtained a distinct idea of the subject of the painting or 
 statue, in legend or history, and finds it well set forth, he is 
 apt to feel satisfied: this is the pleasure of Eustace. He may 
 go farther than that. If he possess much sensibility, he 
 studies the passion of the work with interest, and if of an 
 exclusive turn, he is apt to feel an imaginary elevation above 
 common mortals whom nature has not privileged with simi¬ 
 lar nerves: this is the pleasure of Byron. The discipline of 
 the heart through the sensibility thus experienced in gal¬ 
 leries, is, it must be confessed, no ignoble effect of the fine 
 arts. The inflation of soul experienced, if from a sound and 
 healthy source, becomes the enthusiasm of virtue; this is 
 often permanently ennobling to the character. The opera¬ 
 tion of the fine arts is in that case parallel to the effect which 
 
 C3i4: 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 invariably follows the reading of a page of Seneca: and we 
 are yet to see the justice of the disparagement cast on stoi¬ 
 cism by the Christian Doctors, who have at least unneces¬ 
 sarily striven to render Christianity the antagonist principle 
 to it. Methodism is its only necessary opposite. 
 
 But to return to our observer. Beyond this effect of the 
 arts he cannot commonly go. Higher than this, perhaps he 
 would assert, no one can go, for he had himself enjoyed the 
 poetry of art. It is, however, possible to go higher, in paint¬ 
 ing often, in sculpture always. Let us convince him of it. 
 We need not for this purpose call in to our aid a professor 
 from that half-divine southern region, where to be born is to 
 have the true susceptibility for the arts, but a simple trav¬ 
 eller from an ungenial northern sky. Our Englishman has 
 not failed to observe that host of uncouth youths and men 
 only less numerous than the English themselves, who too 
 are lookers on. The little cloth-caps, long locks of fair hair, 
 bare necks and dress which would fright St. James’-street 
 from her propriety, indicate the youths to be German Bur- 
 schen just undergoing the process of reassimilation to a world 
 of Philisters, down to which they are degraded by issuing 
 from their university. Let him listen to a traveller of this 
 nation; among the yearly swarm of them, old and young, 
 he may be sure to find at least, one who can dissert scarcely 
 less brilliantly than Winkelmann or Bottiger. If he be 
 capable of receiving the ideas of such a person, he soon feels 
 it to have been no airy assertion of the great critics, that the 
 pure dominion of the fine arts is ideal. Painting is of the 
 two arts of which we are speaking, the more concrete, but 
 sculpture is undoubtedly only ideal. As far as the historic 
 purport or the morale of sculpture reaches, sculpture is an 
 imitative art. But it is not all imitative; at a certain point 
 imitation of nature ends—a statue dare not resemble life. 
 The proper glory of sculpture is its abstractive essence, like 
 the colourless material it works on: now, this is within the 
 resort exclusively of the intellect, we do not mean of the 
 understanding, but of the pure imagination. Every travel¬ 
 ler who has been so favoured as to hear such a person des- 
 
 C 315 J 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 cant, has noticed with delight how new beauties before unsus¬ 
 pected, start before his eyes, how fitnesses and harmonies are 
 developed, and as a perception of the ideal enters his mind, 
 he sees the field of the art expand, and the reach of his mind 
 lengthen almost as if one hitherto limited to the touch in 
 making acquaintance with external objects, had vision 
 suddenly superadded to it. We are above the miserable affec¬ 
 tation of originality in the above positions; they are common¬ 
 places in all languages and infinitely better said by English¬ 
 men themselves, by Smith and Reynolds if you will, than by 
 us. But they are not the less needful to have been touched 
 on in our estimate of English civilization. What we note is, 
 that in other national tastes these doctrines have taken root 
 —in the English, not in the least degree. Now it is amazing 
 how far below, not merely the Italians, but the Germans, and 
 not less the Swedes and Danes, are the English (we include 
 the Americans) in this the true susceptibility for the arts 
 which they carry to their travels. America may stand 
 fairly excused, but England cannot, except she consent to 
 throw the blame on ungentle nature; and this is, we dare say, 
 the literal truth. We have known many who conscious that 
 they were lifted far above the illiterate and the obtuse, by 
 learning enough to enable them to delight in the study of 
 antiques, as an illustration of ancient literature, and by an 
 acute sensibility for the passion demanded by the subject, 
 had yet the mortification to perceive and the candor to ad¬ 
 mit, that nature had denied them the entree to the sanctuary 
 itself. That judicious instruction may do much to remedy 
 this, is perhaps, truly alleged; but who would not sigh for 
 the happy nature of the ancient Greeks, the people to whom 
 the ideal was a native inheritance! And what do our Eng¬ 
 lish bring back with them from their travels? We would by 
 no means deny the prevalence of an infinite deal of cant 
 about styles—what else ? Why, the same gold, which inspired 
 the thought of transporting one of the marble palaces from 
 the Grand Canal of Venice to London, has purchased a num¬ 
 ber of Canovas and Thorwaldsens for England, greater than 
 exists in any country, save Italy and Denmark. Besides this, 
 
 C316-J 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 it is just to add, that, among the younger school of sculptors 
 at Rome, the English Gibson, Wyatt and Gott, are among 
 the most distinguished. But what is sculpture to-day in 
 England, but the carving of busts and profiles? What do 
 the shelves of Chantrey’s study display but mere likenesses 
 of his contemporaries, almost exclusively busts ? Few candid 
 Englishmen, perhaps none, but Chantrey himself, would 
 contradict us if we asserted that he dare not attempt a 
 group, much less an ideal group, because he knows his 
 incompetency. He himself would contradict us, point 
 to his only group (the Babes of Lichfield) and allege 
 that there is no encouragement in England for the high 
 ranges of the art. Both are true. The amiable Allan 
 Cunningham who does the honours of Chantrey’s study, is 
 known to have said when speaking of a young sculptor, who 
 was one of the exhibitors at Somerset-House last year, that 
 he was sorry he showed a turn for the ideal, for, he could not 
 expect to make his bread in that path in England: just as 
 one would discourage a clerk in a house of business from 
 meddling with poetry. 
 
 This unsusceptibility of the English is neither unfairly 
 charged, nor is it an isolated trait. It is of the very essence 
 of her entire civilization; which civilization, we believe too, 
 to be of the most perfect consistency with itself in all its 
 parts. What is the ultimate reach of English music? The 
 regulated perfection of harmony is unknown to it. Scotch 
 music, which only lifts its modest head with pretension to 
 melody and the popular charm of association, pleases from 
 its concentrated nationality. But if any amateur should tell 
 us, that he has discerned harmony or melody in living Eng¬ 
 lish music, we can only say, that we wonder what Mozart 
 would have thought of such a phenomenon of taste as he is? 
 
 Another chief ground of this lower estimate of English 
 civilization is, that a large class of the essential English 
 opinions, of the present day, have their foundation, not in 
 reason, but in prejudice. The evil here complained of is not 
 that such opinions are therefore false, but that there exists 
 a disposition to prefer prejudice as a foundation of vital 
 
 [ 317 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 opinions. To allude to this idea, of course calls the thoughts 
 of every reader to the renowned defence of prejudice, by 
 6 7ro.w Burkius. If there be any passage more characteristic 
 of the great master of political philosophy than all others, 
 it is that passage. In so many words he professes to love a 
 truth the more for the covering of prejudice which envelopes 
 it—its long reception makes it lovely, and incurious custom 
 consecrates it. There is an humble class in the world be¬ 
 longing to this school who seem to mortgage their whole 
 understandings, with all their right of acquiring knowledge, 
 for the consideration of a quantum of old sayings, and are 
 all their lives wondering over the inexhaustible truth of their 
 farthing maxims. We have too genuine a regard for Burke 
 to count him among these. Can any sentiment, however, be 
 more baleful to the cause of truth than this of Burke ? There 
 is something more respectable than universal belief, it is 
 Truth; an arbiter far more imperial than Prejudice, it is 
 Reason; a mistress of human life wiser than common sense, 
 it is Good Sense. Is it for a moment doubtful what are the 
 limits within which prejudice has an authority sanctioned by 
 philosophy? That it “may safely be trusted to guard the 
 outworks while Reason slumbers in the citadel,” but that 
 Reason, awake, can rarely condescend to take Prejudice into 
 her cabinet council, when she is sending out “her posters by 
 sea and by land” to discover Truth. Often admitted, Preju¬ 
 dice corrupts, perverts, lethargizes, and straightway begins 
 to erect herself into the Mayor of the Palace, the viceroy over 
 the king. There is a tender age when all men are incompetent 
 to investigate the fo^^ndations of the maxims necessary to 
 guide them, and there is a large class of men of every age who 
 are incompetent, or must be excused from this investigation. 
 But what shall Philosophy say to the sage, whose business is 
 with another circle of men, with thinking men, who yet pre¬ 
 tends to recommend as their safest interpreter of Truth, not 
 that High Priest who alone of all her ministers has ever 
 entered her recesses or will ever see her unveiled visage, but 
 a slave whose station is in the vestibule? Indeed, Reason 
 
 C 318 ] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 can never with safety take Prejudice even as an ally, as a 
 mercenary recruit, except for special cases of necessity. It 
 is all one, in the view of Philosophy, when you do confide in 
 Prejudice, whether she be merely Unreason or Anti-Reason; 
 doubtless you may find your account, on some occasions when 
 you have no light to guide you, in surrendering to her blind 
 guidance; but beware how you conceive a preference for her. 
 Never was a truer tormentum Mezentii than you inflict on 
 living Truth, by fastening it to decayed Prejudice. These 
 may seem exaggerated generalizations, but to us they appear 
 hardly adequate. English writers all acknowledge that the 
 estimation which the pure search of Truth possesses in Eng¬ 
 land, is very reduced: whether it was formerly very high we 
 shall examine hereafter. What we have said is so far true at 
 the present day, that it only needs a little specification to 
 strike every one. What Prejudice is to Reason, compromise 
 to right, the same is prescription to a legal title. True, among 
 all reasonable men compromise and prescription must he 
 bowed to—they are effectual bars of the rights and titles from 
 which they derogate. But mark the turn of mind which, by 
 preferring to rest in prescription and agreement in things 
 which are their permitted domain, soon comes, and naturally 
 too, to revere the authority of time and precedent more than 
 of justice, in matters wholly without their domain. There 
 needs no illustration of this, hut the course of Whig argu¬ 
 ment for the last forty years in assertion of the freedom of 
 the realm. They rarely do more than trace the genealogy 
 of freedom anxiously up to the days of their Anglo-Saxon 
 ancestors, or to the middle times of the bold Barons. 1 It is 
 
 1 “ Es erben sich Gesetz ’ und Rechte 
 Wie eine ew ’ge Krankheit fort; 
 
 Weh dir, dass du ein Enkel bist! 
 
 Vom Rechte, das mit uns geboren ist, 
 
 Von dem ist, leider! nie die Frage.’’—F aust. 
 
 Translation .—Laws and Right do but inherit themselves onward, like 
 an eternal disease; wo to thee, that thou art born a grand-child! of the 
 Right that is connate with us, of that alas! not once the question is. 
 
 C319 3 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 sufficiently ridiculous in them to limit their titles to those 
 semi-barbarous times, where concessions will be found in no 
 wise adequate to the large demands of an age of perfected 
 civilization. But then were they not justly rebuked by Mc¬ 
 Intosh for their manner of claiming more by descent than by 
 original right? It was, indeed, somewhat a degradation of 
 their client to make even a principal prop of her cause to 
 consist in early precedent. If freemen are anxious to vindi¬ 
 cate their fathers from the imputation of having lived with¬ 
 out freedom, we applaud them; but as the lapse of time can¬ 
 not deprive in such vital points, it is also a weak argument 
 when favourable. If in geometry there be no prescription 
 or foreclosure available against outstanding truth, so equally 
 can there be no foreclosure in high matters of primary poli¬ 
 tics. That there is another class of asserters of the freedom 
 of the realm, termed Radicals, we do not forget: but we fear 
 philosophy would be as little disposed to own them for her 
 votaries, as would fashion at Willis’ rooms. 
 
 What is it which characterizes British metaphysical phi¬ 
 losophy? There are illustrious names, none can deny, on its 
 rolls; but neither English nor Scotch books, nor the writings 
 of their French allies or opponents which alone the English 
 consult for information or illustration besides their own, 
 compose the whole school of true philosophy. The philosophy 
 of true British growth and consonant with her whole civiliza¬ 
 tion, the philosophy of Locke, clarum nomen, and of Reid 
 and Beattie (we see no propriety in adding the epithet 
 clarum, or venerabile to these last) is that which “inaugu¬ 
 rates Common Sense on the throne of Philosophy,” restricts 
 her own domain to the observation of the actions of the mind, 
 regards all ontology (or the science of the nature of being) 
 as an irreclaimable chaos, the fruitless exploration of which 
 nature has forbidden to the wise by a Limbo of vanities in¬ 
 terposed to warn, authorizes faith in no dogma which cannot 
 be subjected either to experiment or observation for the pur¬ 
 poses of induction, and encourages the pursuit only of such 
 inquiries as lead to practical, sensible results. The host of 
 useful and valuable truths, within these limits, with which 
 
 C320 3 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 she has endowed the world, is not more characteristic of her 
 system than the indication of that indefinite host of supposed 
 truths which she calls indemonstrable, or those topics which 
 she stigmatizes as without the limits of rational inquiry. We 
 may state these in the words of Professor Jar dine: “the gen¬ 
 eral attributes of being, existence, essence, unity, bonity, 
 truth, relations, modes of possibility, impossibility, necessity, 
 contingency and other similar abstract conceptions of pure 
 intellect,” with the vast topics which must be treated and 
 settled in order to attain self-knowledge. Is not the day 
 come yet, when it may be uttered in the English language, 
 that such a philosophy, so limited as the system we describe, 
 though a legitimate portion of the science of spiritual truth, 
 yet is not all of it, nay, is not by any means the highest part 
 of it? We know that the absurdities of schoolmen of the 
 middle ages, and the memorable lines of satirists have made 
 the very name of entity ridiculous to English ears. Yet 
 surely we forget that if theory was ridiculous in the schools, 
 experiment was no less so in the laboratory, for experiment 
 and observation were resorted to for the discovery of truth, 
 before as well as after Bacon. Would any one twit us with 
 Butler’s wit against logical method, might we not retort, 
 from Aristophanes, on physical philosophers? No choicer 
 wit than that in ‘the Clouds’ on the experimenters in natural 
 science, who, for aught we see, were Baconians, only not 
 grave enough in their selection of subjects. Nay, may we 
 not say that the most laughable errors of metaphysicians can 
 be paralleled by the conclusions to which the Great Chan¬ 
 cellor himself sometimes came by diligent induction? The 
 sovereign efficacy of the inductive method, and its sway over 
 all subsequent philosophy in Europe, are fixed ideas chiefly 
 in the brain of the Scotch and French. Dr. Brewster has 
 admirably treated this matter in his life of Sir Isaac, shown 
 how greatly the claim of the method of induction to be the 
 clue to all modern discovery must be qualified, and reminded 
 us that neither Locke, nor Boyle, nor Newton have once men¬ 
 tioned Bacon in their w r orks—nay, that Newton, so far from 
 being the disciple of Bacon, was really the follower of Galileo 
 
 C321] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 and Kepler. And all the learning of Lord Napier in the 
 transactions of the Edinburgh Philosophic Society will do 
 little to disturb these positions. The name of Bacon is in¬ 
 appreciable: but this credit he would not have claimed for 
 himself. But to continuethe question now is, whether 
 there may not be inquiries made in ontology to-day, (under 
 the illumination of modern wisdom) as far juster than those 
 of Aquinas, as the induction of Davy is than that of Sir 
 Kenelm Digby? It is in vain to strive to banish the mind 
 from the investigation of the class of topics mentioned by 
 Jardine. Whoever is at all gifted with the true philosophical 
 imagination finds delight in them; feels that they are the 
 native dominion of pure philosophy; that to deny himself 
 their meditation is to curtail the dignity of man; that nature 
 designed to lavish on our species a large birthright, and pro¬ 
 nounced him her noblest child who goes farthest to enjoy it 
 all. He knows that nature has given us a soul, and ! ‘ Reason 
 is her being, discursive and intuitive.” That noblest child 
 is the philosopher, and philosophy in its most exalted depart¬ 
 ment would be his occupation, ‘ 4 the science of ultimate truths 
 —scientia scientiarum.” 
 
 Let us not be imposed on by those who would imprison the 
 mind within the visible diurnal sphere. Let us not soil the 
 dignity of this first of sciences by forbidding her to appear 
 in the world, except under the person of popular philosophy 
 which a wise man has pronounced, ‘ ‘ the counterfeit and mor¬ 
 tal enemy of all true and manly metaphysical research.” 
 Let us allot to such as will be content with it, the limited 
 range of empiricism; (the whole philosophy of experiment 
 and observation—a large range but only too limited,) but 
 then this school must consent to admit that it is “neither pos¬ 
 sible nor necessary for all men nor many, to be philosophers” 
 in the highest sense. Should the empirical school, however, 
 refuse to recognize the other sect, they do but convict them¬ 
 selves of what Bacon called “an arrogant pusillanimity.” 
 The precept that descended from heaven was the whole 
 nosce te ipsum, not so much of it only as the eye and the 
 immediate consciousness could teach. And there are not 
 
 [322 3 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 wanting a few men in England who have learned that all 
 modern researches after ultimate truth have not proved 
 either ridiculous or fruitless. The day is coming when audi¬ 
 tors may be solicited even in England, for the discoveries of 
 those Germans, who, learned in all systems, have presumed 
 to think that they too may boast trophies, and of conquests 
 in higher fields. Let the English, at least, from what they 
 know of Goethe, of Schiller, of Schlegel, Heeren and Nie¬ 
 buhr, (and how much they have added to the world’s stores 
 of good sense) have the modesty to suspect that what their 
 compatriots, the philosophers have written, is not wholly 
 nonsensical. Nay, let them be a little solicitous, lest in their 
 scorn for German metaphysics, of which they are wholly 
 ignorant, they deserve the retort of Schlegel on the Scotch: 
 that Scotch philosophy is a paltry, mechanical art, rather 
 than a science. 
 
 In the first place, what can be said of those whose standard 
 in metaphysics is the oracle of common sense, or the general 
 consent of the world? Surely their philosophy is not that 
 being whom Socrates brought down from heaven to dwell 
 among men, but is a genuine filia terrce. How just is the 
 remark of Coleridge, that “it is the two-fold function of phi¬ 
 losophy to reconcile reason with common sense, and to elevate 
 common sense into reason.” He adds in another place, 
 ‘ ‘ would you assert the Newtonian system, such a pseudo-phi¬ 
 losopher might vanquish you by an appeal to common sense, 
 whether the sun did not move and the earth stand still.” 
 Secondly, does any one object that the empirical philosophy 
 does in reality contain whatever can be designated by the 
 name of knowledge? We answer that the results of pure 
 philosophy are not of necessity less certain, because theirs is 
 the certainty of reason. True, the wisest may make false 
 moves in it, but this does not declare truth in it to be wholly 
 unattainable. Indeed, if one certain truth has been discov¬ 
 ered in it, that is sufficient to encourage progress in this the 
 highest vocation of the mind. So might the portrait painters 
 have objected to attempts to picture the ideal, and thus might 
 they be shamed by a single successful work of Raphael. 
 
 C323] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 The contempt for pure philosophy has naturally fallen 
 heavy on logic, and the poor syllogism is held up to supreme 
 scorn. That, before Bacon, it was not used for the discovery 
 of new facts, some have candidly admitted; that induction 
 was often resorted to by Aristotle for that object is also 
 well known. It ought then to be owned, that the syllogism 
 claimed to be an available instrument only as the analytic 
 test of reasoning. Logicians say, that the theory of their 
 syllogism is, that whatever can be affirmed of a class, may 
 be affirmed of every individual in that class. Here English 
 Common Law interposes—and this is the brightest feather in 
 her cap—she declares that then the conclusion was wrapped 
 up in the premises, and if so, it is but farcical to prove to a 
 man by regular steps what he admits totidem verbis at first. 
 To this profound objection logicians reply, that true it is, 
 syllogisms cannot discover new facts in physics, though they 
 may new relations in metaphysics; but they submit that, as 
 far as all reasoning reaches, the sole process known to men 
 is to evolve particular truth out of some general postulated 
 truth. The logicians farther submit, that specification and 
 definition are main instruments in all ratiocination, and that 
 whether we reason with three propositions, or with two, or 
 without regularity, all we ever do by ratiocination is to educe 
 disputed truth out of admitted dogmas in which it lay un¬ 
 perceived. We will not hazard ourselves in this abstruse 
 question, though we suspect the longest train of reflection 
 will end in the confirmation of this last assertion of the logi¬ 
 cians. 
 
 We reassert then that if the philosophy of a nation be the 
 highest index of her civilization, the Homo Sapiens Britannus 
 is not altogether the most exalted being possible. His is but 
 the safe mediocrity of nature. And even in that branch of 
 metaphysics wherein she allows her talents full scope, the 
 science of the moral and intellectual function of the mind, 
 she must suffer it to be said that she will not bear a very 
 favourable comparison with the Germans. 
 
 Sir William Drummond, as we perceived, says, that the 
 free and philosophic spirit of England was once the admira- 
 
 [324;] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 tion of Europe. For freedom in religious inquiry (which we 
 suspect was his drift) certainly England has ever been emi¬ 
 nent ; and that the unbelieving side has been more ably main¬ 
 tained than that of the true faith, is as sure, as that in the 
 war for and against materialism the English materialists 
 exceed in ability their English opponents. The conclave of 
 English orthodoxy is tant qu’il soit peu unsatisfactory in its 
 reasoning and elliptical in its learning. What has the Bench 
 of Bishops, with all the Presidents of Colleges and Divinity 
 Professors cumulatively, done to purge the blood of the Eng¬ 
 lish language of the poison of Gibbon which circulates 
 through every vein of it? 
 
 Before we take our leave of this branch, however, we are 
 not afraid of being laughed at for offering to grapple more 
 closely with this popular idol, this Cleon, Common Sense. 
 For a definition we prefer to go to Tully. Ernesti ( clavis 
 ad voc: sensus) says that as used by Tully, “sensus com¬ 
 munis continetur notionibus insitis, et naturali facultate in- 
 telligendi, judicandi, ratiocinandi, recti etboni cognoscendi” ; 
 it lias also the secondary meaning of sensibility. Let us then 
 proceed to distinguish it as a ratio cognoscendi into first 
 merely intellectual, second merely ethical, third merely pru¬ 
 dential. That the common moral sense is worthy of all 
 homage, we admit; it is conclusive. Furthermore, we admit 
 that the prudential common sense “natum rebus agendis” is 
 an invaluable guide in life. The pity is that “le sens com- 
 mun n’est pas si commun.” We have all due respect for 
 those persons who are such bright concretions of this sub¬ 
 stantial quality, and only wish they did not think it their 
 duty to scorn all poets, theorizers and other ingenious gentle¬ 
 men who are lovers of curious and ornamental knowledge, 
 as unproductive drones. Men whose talent is for affairs only, 
 will do well oftener to inform their tenement of clay with a 
 like spirit : they should have the grace to suspect that the 
 assumed superiority of practical shrewdness over speculative 
 wisdom, will never daunt speculation, but that only true 
 theory can dispel false, and only much learning cure the 
 errors of half learned speculators. But when we come to that 
 
 £325 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 first branch of Common Sense, wherein it presumes to judge 
 of the true and the false, we unhesitatingly assert that, save 
 where it is perfectly identical with simple consciousness, it 
 is no judge in the courts of Philosophy. A judge in the 
 market and adequate to the market, she is. But where Rea¬ 
 son designs to vindicate any province of the true and false 
 as sufficiently enlarged to be worthy of her jurisdiction, the 
 other must give way. 
 
 Finally, if the mistress of English opinion be Common 
 Sense, and their dominant aim be practical utility, we must 
 turn them over to Mr. Cooper, to astonish them with the 
 undoubted superiority of the Common Sense of America over 
 their own. But we intercede with the ingenious novelist to 
 term the American quality not Common Sense, but rather 
 true good sense. That the English Common Sense is not 
 identical with shrewdness in affairs, or finesse of mind, we 
 may perceive by this, that the world agrees, from Commines’ 
 assertion down, that England never did produce one eminent 
 diplomatic negociator. Even us the English upbraided, with 
 having taken advantage of their weakness in this particular. 
 
 A word or two on some points of her literature. Her own 
 critics have taken it on them to complain of the neglect of 
 pure mathematics and science in general, at the very instant 
 when her practical ingenuity is the miracle of the age. It 
 is honorable to English candour that Professor De Morgan, 
 in his translation of Bourdon’s Algebra (we believe) stops 
 at a certain elementary stage and avows, that if any one 
 wishes to explore beyond that point he must study the French 
 language. The contemporary classical criticism of England 
 is not often quoted with honour in Continental auditories, 
 though the Germans who are the most learned are the most 
 liberal, insomuch that Thiersch confesses Bentley to have 
 been the first of critics. Little that is enlarged on classical 
 criticism is published in England except what comes out of 
 the German; and that their German translations are not the 
 ripest possible, we may guess from the fact that poor Amer¬ 
 ica has been pillaged (from him that hath not, &c.) of the 
 credit of her only two valuable translations, Buttmann and 
 
 [ 326 ;] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 Heeren, (Pol. Ancient Greece,) printed in England as British 
 translations, with a modest slur at the want of acquaintance 
 with German manifested by Mr. Everett and Mr. Bancroft 
 —a want which was not suspected in them in Germany. 1 
 The actual monopoly which the Germans enjoy of the glory 
 of recent criticism in the provinces of ancient history, poetry 
 epic and tragic, ancient philosophy and the genuine original 
 mythic theology, is the loftiest of intellectual trophies, saving 
 only the kindred spoils in the science of celestial mechanics, 
 and such permanent conquest as it has been vouchsafed to 
 mind to make, thus far, in the highest metaphysics. Every 
 body now knows that by the perfect classical learning and 
 taste of the Germans has the true merit of Shakspeare been 
 first reached; that Lessing, Goethe, Schlegel, Tieck and Cole¬ 
 ridge (for why not count him among the Germans, plus Alle- 
 mand que les Allemands ) have raised the English Poet to an 
 eminence which no one of the editors in the Variorum Shak¬ 
 speare had dared claim for him. There is even now a more 
 Shaksperian taste in a German audience, when one of Schle- 
 gel’s translations is played, than at Drury-Lane, as one will 
 perceive by comparing Cibber’s miserable patchwork of 
 Richard III. with Schlegel’s version which opens with the 
 first line of the true Richard, and proceeds faithfully to the 
 end. A similar critical acumen has rescued Don Juan from 
 the degradation of resemblance to a Faublas, and placed 
 him on a parallel with a Faust. 2 
 
 Another legitimate topic is the actual degree of refinement 
 in England. Observing travellers inform us that the aristo¬ 
 cratic sentiment has even advanced with gigantic strides in 
 English society in the last fifty years, while in France it is 
 virtually extinct. That it pervades the Whigs as thoroughly 
 
 1 Germans have several times called the writer’s attention to a comi¬ 
 cal misapprehension of Lord Leveson Gower in his translation of 
 Faust. When Wagner, in a scene with Faust, exposes the deceptions of 
 demons, he says, ‘ ‘ when they lie, they prattle like angels, ’ ’ not English¬ 
 men, Lord Leveson; not Angli, but Angeli. We do not know that this 
 is corrected in any recent edition. 
 
 2 See the last chapter of Coleridge’s Bio. Litera.,, , 
 
 [327] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 as the Tories, thus rendering that which was the most odious 
 feature of Toryism an essential quality of the name English¬ 
 man. That it exhibits itself in its upward aspect servile, and 
 in its downward supercilious and repulsive. Never saw the 
 world such private fortunes, nor so many of them, never such 
 perfection in the common arts of life, never greater luxury 
 and certainly never so artificial a state of society. The leading 
 alteration which manners have suffered in the present cen¬ 
 tury, undoubtedly, is the appearance for the first time of a 
 systematized coldness or apathy, which, beginning in the 
 upper ranks, is spreading every where. Not to admire is all 
 the art they know: were Horace, who was we take it the first 
 of this school, to come among them now, he would be tartly 
 reprimanded we fear for the positive buoyancy of his char¬ 
 acter. Enthusiasm is the single horror of these people. We 
 wish we had a few specimens of the negative, passionless, un¬ 
 pretending style in our community, which is composed, in two 
 great parts, of men perpetually intent on popular admira¬ 
 tion, of over polite, bustling, enthusiastic people. But the 
 stoicism of Grosvenor Square, in becoming national, will not 
 fail to serve as an extinguisher of much vivacity of mind and 
 heart, and may go far to reduce our Inglese to a very dull, 
 selfish person. What apology for dullness, and cloak for in¬ 
 feriority of soul, was ever invented equal to this? Of neces¬ 
 sity, this new style is accompanied by the introduction of a 
 perfect system of exclusive castes. It is quite true that the 
 reign of the Exquisites is ended, and that of the Exclusives 
 begun: the Dandies are voted to have been too violent pre¬ 
 tenders, and a recherche simplicity is voted in. In the 
 exclusive system the rival claims of blood and wealth have 
 been nicely adjusted, and now people may associate without 
 losing dignity, i.e. with their own set. To be sure the system 
 makes one Englishman singularly afraid of another, or 
 singularly rude to him, whom he meets without knowing him, 
 at the same time that they both would agree to shower honour 
 on a foreigner to whom they may attribute any sphere they 
 please. We sadly suspect, however, that this artificial ar¬ 
 rangement is a miserable servitude, that tortures like the 
 
 C328] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 rack many a luckless monster with a sympathetic, social, 
 communicative turn. The Englishman is still the best horse¬ 
 man and the gentlest sportsman in Europe—he claims to be 
 the best dressed man: perhaps he is. Though he must be 
 admitted to have the poorest national cuisine extant, yet he 
 has the sagacity to hire foreign science, and avenges the 
 unwillingness of Minerve Gourmande by unlimited cant. 
 Though he never comes to speak French well, yet he manages 
 to talk more French in his English than Old Burton would 
 have cited of all his languages, in the same length of time. 
 There is something, by the way, singular enough in the per¬ 
 version which these foreign scraps suffer by transplanting 
 into English use. It is to be well seen by reading a French 
 translation of some book, say Lady Morgan’s ‘Boudoir,’ 
 where the only difficulty for the clever translator is to com¬ 
 prehend her French quotations. The difference between the 
 English piazza and the Italian, is but one of many instances 
 of the tendency of words to departure from their original 
 meaning when adopted into English conversation, and may 
 induce the suspicion of what whole sentences may lose by 
 misquotation from mouth to mouth. After all, in point of 
 wdiatever goes to make up manhood, we fear that the present 
 apathetic, exclusive English, though they have passed the 
 Catholic Bill, and may pass the Reform Bill, yet are hardly 
 worth the men of Merton and Runnymede. 
 
 II. We come now to our second head. We are not of those 
 who think it calamitous to America to have inherited the 
 English language and literature. Still less of those who 
 imagine that America has a vocation to make a new era in 
 the mind. And least of all are we of those who believe that 
 this new epoch is to be made by the abandonment of the 
 literature of the ancient democracies, and the dedication of 
 ourselves to what some call useful knowledge. This cant in 
 an American mouth is the veriest unreason and the most 
 pernicious charlatanism that can be conceived. Much rather, 
 if America is destined to make a new era, should it be in the 
 reception and faithful use of the peculiar riches of all na¬ 
 tions and of all ages. Our situation is like that of the Colom- 
 
 [329 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 bians, whose equatorial position enables them to behold all 
 the stars of both hemispheres: our visible heaven, figura¬ 
 tively speaking, is the entire concave, and every star is 
 either beneficent or harmless to us. The model of a republic 
 for America is given by Pericles in the funeral oration in 
 Thucydides: it must be a republic that can incorporate re¬ 
 finement, taste and luxury into its system of equality as 
 available agents, or there must be provision made for them 
 as for friction in a machine. Nature and an age too late 
 —an age of commerce and wealth, of civility, of perpetual 
 international intercourse and of contagious example on every 
 side—both alike forbid as impossible either the revival of 
 the farouche republicanism of Sparta, or the reduction to prac¬ 
 tice of the pastoral conceits of Raynal. But though America 
 must submit to conform herself to the condition of the world, 
 and may expect no more than a due share of credit for such 
 accession to the general treasury, as the old modes of learn¬ 
 ing, experiment and meditation will enable her to collect, 
 yet we have a distinct complaint to make. It is that those 
 who furnish us our instruction feed our minds with hardly 
 any knowledge but what comes through English hands. 
 Now, it would not be too hazardous to assert that English 
 literature (if exclusively taken) is not just the most salutary 
 for republican study. But we will not press this. It is 
 enough that her literature does not embrace all the wisdom, 
 nor all the higher wisdom of the human species; golden 
 temptations lead us into other literatures, to correct and sup¬ 
 ply for our own use the inherent errors and defects of this. 
 Neither shall we ever be satisfied that the knowledge of for¬ 
 eign literatures, or information of foreign history should 
 come to us exclusively or chiefly through the hands of Eng¬ 
 land. Our country is already possessed of those who are 
 competent, if they will, to furnish us proper information on 
 the novelties of letters and science with which France, Italy 
 and Germany are daily adorning the world. What would be 
 the contempt we should deserve for remaining liable to such 
 imposition as that of the sentiments of the Scotch Reviewer of 
 the life of Goethe ? As to intelligence of foreign events, the 
 
 [330 3 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 English annalists and newspapers, of all others give the least 
 accurate or complete accounts. Mr. Jefferson formerly was 
 earnest that the Gazette of Leyden, a republican sheet, should 
 be adopted by us as the chronicler of continental news for 
 America. Circumstances are even more urgent now, than 
 hitherto, for renouncing the English medium. The Prussian 
 State-Gazette, and the Austrian Observer give best the au¬ 
 thentic expression of the opinions of German cabinets, while 
 the Universal Gazette of Augsburg, not an official organ of 
 any party, though not immaculate, may yet be called the 
 best repertory of news from Turkey, from Eastern, Middle 
 and Western Europe that the world has ever seen. That 
 these sheets should never reach America is lamentable 
 enough: but what is unpardonable is, that so little use is 
 made by our editors of the French papers. If we want the 
 German papers for information on the passing history of 
 Germany, Russia and the North, we want the French not 
 merely for their own news, but for doctrine as to all. But 
 from English papers, and from them alone, are we told 
 every thing. What English journalists and historians tell 
 better than others is only English history and news. Let one 
 but study the disquisitions on Continental politics in the 
 Courier, or Morning Chronicle, and in the Journal des 
 Dcbats, or the Constitutionnel—even take the Tory John Bull 
 and the Carlist Gazette de France, or any other contempo¬ 
 rary remarks, and the superior fairness as well as sagacity 
 of the French journals, is prominently conspicuous. Why 
 cannot the American editors in the seaports spare time 
 enough, or rather get learning enough to supply us with the 
 detailed views of foreign affairs taken by the French?—not 
 merely the debates of the Chambers, but also the essays of 
 the journalists who are the virtual masters of French opin¬ 
 ion. Take the English lucubrations on Germany, and submit 
 them to any German statist: they are merely fit for his mirth. 
 From no book in the English language is any just idea of the 
 system of Germany (which is the balance point of that of 
 Europe) to be obtained. Lord Brougham is doubtless one 
 of the best informed of his countrymen on foreign affairs, 
 
 [ 331 ^ 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 but even lie does not rightly apprehend the relations in which 
 the crown of Hanover stands to that of England: we say this 
 in modesty, yet how avoid saying it, when he declared in the 
 House of Commons two years ago, that “it seemed the Sa- 
 lique Law prevailed” as to the descent of the throne of Han¬ 
 over. If we inquire either of Montesquieu or of the Arch¬ 
 bishop of Canterbury, in the first act of Henry Y. what the 
 Salique Law is as to the crown of France, we learn that 
 females are excluded wholly and forever, from the succession. 
 But when all the male agnates are extinct in the line of Han¬ 
 over, the females begin to succeed. Lord Brougham is a 
 feudalist and should know what a fief male and female under 
 this limitation would be called. To her journalists we appre¬ 
 hend Germany is still a Hyrcanian forest tenanted (besides 
 the wild boar, which are capital hunting,) by serfs with 
 a harsh guttural dialect, and a few Lords in Chateaux; (how 
 many the German sovereigns are is only known at the foreign 
 office, where credentials for the ambassadors are made out) 
 the amusement of English journals is to shake the fetters of 
 these serfs in the faces of their masters, and demand of them 
 the promised constitutions, though we are not aware that the 
 poor kings have ever yet been allowed a day in court. 
 
 To what is it to be attributed that of all European affairs 
 only English politics are well understood in America? Who 
 is to blame that the history of France from the restoration 
 up to the accession of the Polignac ministry, a period as full 
 of instruction for all constitutional governments as the entire 
 period from 1688 until 1832 in the English annals, is scarcely 
 better known in America than the contemporary events in 
 Turkey? We suspect our insulars must bear the blame of 
 keeping us in uncertainty and ignorance. The general mind 
 of America faithful to the land that feeds it, takes delight in 
 studying English concerns: we will specify a case, where cur¬ 
 tailing itself to the acquisition of small things, it would suffice 
 for learning the whole system of Europe. How many Ameri¬ 
 cans know Debrett well, who could by no means count how 
 many independent States there are in Europe ? Suppose for 
 Debrett were substituted the genealogical almanac of Gotha; 
 
 c 332:1 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 they would thus exchange petty information, no ways con¬ 
 cerning them, for knowledge which is history. And thus it 
 must obviously continue; for, if none but English knowledge 
 is put in our reach, the most ingenious student will only be¬ 
 come more English than his duller fellows. Let no one sneer 
 at us, as trying to subtract the American mind from its only 
 natural and mother-jurisdiction. We aver, before heaven, 
 that we believe the instinct of liberty in America will one 
 day be endangered by the uninterrupted influence of con¬ 
 temporary English literature and manners. Undermine a 
 few principles, and efface this instinct the most vital of all, 
 and our Republic could not sustain itself forever by its own 
 weight. The sentiment of Aristocracy, with which her litera¬ 
 ture is at present more pregnant than it ever was before— 
 and scarcely more in Scott than in Moore—once fairly intro¬ 
 duced, in the train of fastidiousness and exclusiveness, would 
 do the work of our destruction more effectually than sermons 
 preached by a Sacheverell in every village in America for a 
 century. But we should wrong ourselves if we said there 
 was proximate danger of this: enough, that it is a possibility. 
 We dare not go free of all care, knowing the deposit we bear. 
 
 The spirit which has animated us, in what we have writ¬ 
 ten, is not of hostility to England, for we profess to fulfil 
 scrupulously the maxim of public jurists, “nations at war 
 are the only enemies, all others, friends.” We have only 
 spoken to our countrymen for the interests of democracy. 
 We could by no means permit ourselves to offer wanton re¬ 
 proach to England. What we desired to inculcate was that 
 the dignity of human nature might be alike elevated by 
 searching beyond the English limit, that justice to ourselves 
 demands that we should sometimes follow another guide be¬ 
 sides the English Sibyl, who neither knows every thing, nor 
 is the fittest to conduct a democracy. Beyond this, we add: 
 the closest bond of union which need bind us to England, is, 
 perhaps, the treaty of commerce between us. Treaties of 
 peace prescribe mutual comity, but do not enjoin companion¬ 
 ship. In spite of the humane philosophy of Mr. Irving we 
 cannot think England the most natural bosom companion of 
 
 C333 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 America, or that we owe her more, in duty and affection, 
 than is nominated in our bond. Nor, for the reason that we 
 are the two freest people on earth, descended of a common 
 stock, do we feel the touch of nature draw us to her embrace: 
 for, perhaps, our respective liberties are not much akin to 
 each other, and we are candidly of opinion that the two 
 nations of European origin which are the most unlike, are 
 Great-Britain and the United States. Produce your voucher! 
 Captain Basil Hall. Then again, except the occasional blan¬ 
 dishments of the Edinburgh Review and Blackwood’s Maga¬ 
 zine, we are half afraid the English are not more desirous of 
 being the object of our romantic affection, than we, for our 
 simple selves, are of seeing America proffer it. In candour, 
 Captain Hall’s book is one of sterling honesty—the genuine 
 avowal of British sentiment with regard to America. It is 
 what every thorough Englishman (and the sailors are the 
 most thorough) must think of us, if they reason and feel 
 logically. But it has done good for America among the aris¬ 
 tocrats; for which of them will not blush to see how paltry 
 the sum total of British detraction from our character is, and 
 own with a smile that he never knew the claim of aristocracy 
 to be so brainless a mask, as it is shewn to be by its favourite 
 apologist. Let the English continue to think that Americans 
 are nothing but the men of Liverpool, Birmingham and Glas¬ 
 gow transplanted into a new world: it is our fault if we 
 either are, or long remain second-rate English. The deposit 
 of democratic liberty is little safe in our hands, if we be. 
 
 We have thus far not paid any attention to the excellent 
 book, at the head of this paper. Sir James knows that he has 
 a sure place in the heart of America: but it is something 
 more than this book which we expect from him. We are 
 longing for a suitable history of England from the revolution 
 of 1688 up to this day, and we respectfully complain that he 
 is slow to fulfil the world’s hope. He will be eagerly read in 
 America, when he comes forth with that work. So far from 
 neglecting the reading of English history, we even doubt 
 if it is not a great deal too much studied in the United States. 
 
 It is, no doubt, of the first consequence to a practical law- 
 
 11 334 ] 
 
ENGLISH CIVILIZATION 
 
 yer, that he should study well the civil history of England— 
 but as for those speculators who with us usurp the high office 
 of directing our judgments on political subjects, verily one is 
 sometimes provoked to wish that they had never heard of 
 that history at all. In the trackless desert, it is necessary 
 sometimes to turn our eyes from the sands around us to the 
 stars above us, but we are lost if we keep them there too long; 
 in the untrodden wilderness it may be well to look to the way 
 behind us, but it is better to ponder well the path before. 
 Politics is, indeed, something better than a set of cunning 
 rules often suspended by a miscounting selfishness, and ever 
 flexible to every emerging circumstance: it is an art founded 
 upon general, and, we believe, certain principles; but it is 
 an art purely practical in its very nature, and it being once 
 perceived that it should be the object of a statesman to pro¬ 
 vide real securities for the liberty and property of those 
 whom he presumes to govern, it ought never to be forgotten 
 that in choosing efficient means to effect this object, “he must 
 ever have an eye to the place where, and to the men amongst 
 whom he is. ’ ’ 
 
 “In the monarchies of Europe different orders and ranks 
 of society are established, large masses of property are accu¬ 
 mulated in the hands of single individuals, and standing 
 armies are necessary”; but the condition of these United 
 States is in all these respects wholly different. And yet, let 
 the question be how it is possible in a representative democ¬ 
 racy to prevent the majority from abusing the power of lay¬ 
 ing taxes? Let the question be, whether a man who has two 
 cows has not as good a right to vote as he that owns one 
 horse ? Let the question be, whether it is not reasonable that 
 those who act for the people should do as the people tell 
 them? Let the question be what it may, what is the first 
 thing which most American politicians are sure to do? They 
 spread their books—they are quite sure that whatever ques¬ 
 tion may arise here, a question in consimili casu has already 
 arisen in England; they hunt for an English authority, a 
 case in point, and end with this. They take it all along for 
 granted, that whatever it was prudent and just to do in old 
 
 C 33511 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 England two centuries, or, if you will, two years ago, it is of 
 course prudent and just to do in Virginia or Carolina now. 
 Let no one suppose from all this, that we look upon history 
 as nothing more than, what it certainly is to the common race 
 of readers, the aliment of unthinking curiosity or the amuse¬ 
 ment of restless indolence. To those who consult it with 
 minds fitted and prepared to learn, it were a silly parados 
 to deny that it is of all studies that most likely to furnish 
 us with a solid knowledge of those things which concern our 
 conduct. What we wish to say is that it is idle to light the 
 lamp of experience, if we hang that lamp where it can be no 
 guide to our feet; that however well it may be to question 
 the oracle of wisdom, the responses of that oracle can after 
 all be worth nothing to him who cannot interpret, or will not 
 apply them. “History,” says Mr. Burke, “is a great im¬ 
 prover of the understanding by showing both men and affairs 
 in a great variety of views. From this source much political 
 wisdom may be learned; that is, may be learned as habit not 
 as precept; and as an exercise to strengthen the mind, as 
 furnishing materials to enlarge and enrich it, not as a reper¬ 
 tory of cases and precedents for a lawyer; if it were, a thou¬ 
 sand times better would it be that a statesman had never 
 learned to read— vellem nescirent literas. This method turns 
 their understanding from the objects before them, and from 
 the present exigencies of the world to comparisons with for¬ 
 mer times, of which after all we can know very little and 
 very imperfectly; and our guides the historians who are to 
 give us their true interpretation are often prejudiced, often 
 ignorant, often fonder of system than of truth. Whereas if 
 a man with reasonable good parts and natural sagacity, and 
 not in the leading-strings of any master, will look steadily on 
 the business before him without being diverted by retrospect 
 and comparison , he may be capable of forming a reasonable 
 good judgment of what is to be done.” 
 
 11336 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION 
 IN VIRGINIA 
 
 BY J. BURTON HARRISON 
 
 (Prom the American Quarterly Review, December, 1832) 
 
 The Speech of Thomas Marshall, in the House of Delegates 
 of Virginia, on the Abolition of Slavery. Delivered, Fri¬ 
 day, January 20, 1832. Richmond: pp. 12. 
 
 T HE debate in the Legislature of Virginia at its last ses¬ 
 sion is, beyond all question, the event which most mate¬ 
 rially affects the prospects of negro slavery in the United 
 States. Every thing tells of a spirit that is busy inspecting 
 the very foundations of society in Virginia—a spirit new, sud¬ 
 denly created, and vaster in its grasp than any hitherto 
 called forth in her history. There is a serious disposition to 
 look the evil of slavery (nothing less!) in the face, and to 
 cast about for some method of diminishing or extirpating it. 
 Causes not now needful to be named, have given birth to this 
 disposition, so little to have been anticipated two years ago. 
 The possibility of ridding Virginia of the evil of slavery in 
 our generation, in that of our children, or of our grandchil¬ 
 dren, is suddenly made the legitimate subject of temperate 
 debate. "We shall presume to speak of it therefore in a temper 
 of becoming gravity, and we hope without danger of giving 
 offence to any one. 
 
 It matters not though a majority of the people of Virginia 
 be not, in the first moment, willing to adopt or even to con¬ 
 sider plans already prepared for diminishing the mischiefs 
 of slavery. It matters not, though it were conceded, that all 
 the plans suggested last winter in the House of Delegates, 
 were marked with the crudeness of inexperience, and the in¬ 
 advertence of haste, and would all require to be abandoned 
 for others more mature. It matters not, though it were con- 
 
 [337] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ceded, that a becoming regard for public decency forbade any 
 final step on so perilous a subject in the very first year of its 
 agitation. We fix our eyes on the single circumstance, that 
 the public mind of Virginia permitted, nay encouraged, the 
 open deliberations of the General Assembly, for weeks, on 
 the momentous topic never before thought fit to be men¬ 
 tioned but in a whisper. The first blow has been struck: the 
 greatest achievement that the cause of emancipation admit¬ 
 ted, was then effected. Le grand mot est lache —the great 
 word is spoken out, and can never be recalled. Debate and 
 speculation are on the instant made legitimate. The secret 
 pulsation of so many hearts, sick with the despair of an evil 
 they dared not propose to remedy, has now found a voice, 
 and the wide air has rung with it. 
 
 We rejoice that we live to see this subject thrown into the 
 vast field, in which are to be found so many of the prime 
 interests of the human race—the same from which the ancient 
 tragic poets derived their groundwork: the warfare between 
 liberty and necessity, or more accurately, the sublime strife 
 between the desirable and the actual. We rejoice, that full 
 of doubts, embarrassments, and dangers, as is the thought of 
 attacking the evil, as near alike to the attributes of Fate as 
 seems its defiance of opposition, the obdurate unchangeable¬ 
 ness of it even in degree, yet it is thrown open to speculation 
 and experiment, and now stands fairly exposed to assault 
 from the great Crusaders which have thus far redeemed our 
 mortal condition from barbarism and misery—the uncon¬ 
 querable free will and undying hope. No mortal evil can for 
 ever withstand this open war; these its antagonist principles 
 will be like the undercurrent at sea, ‘ ‘ that draws a thousand 
 waves unto itself,” will strive against obstacle, repair disas¬ 
 ter, and convert all the contemporary events into good for 
 their cause. Recent occurrences in the political history of 
 foreign countries abundantly exemplify this fact. 
 
 The seal is now broken. We exhort the sons of Virginia to 
 toil for the diminution of this evil, with all the prudence, the 
 delicacy, and gravity requisite in the application of a great 
 public remedy to a wide-spread disease. And in the worst 
 
 IT 338 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 event, let them rest assured that history has few places more 
 enviable than would be the lot of the last advocate, who, left 
 without allies, should come, in the grand language of Milton’s 
 prose, “through the chance of good or of evil report, to be 
 
 the SOLE ADVOCATE OF A DISCOUNTENANCED TRUTH .” 1 
 
 We fix not our expectations so much on legislative en¬ 
 actments: as far as these are compulsory and proceed only 
 from a division in the minds of men, we deprecate them. But 
 we direct our anticipations to the general will of the people 
 of the state. Let reason and persuasion be the instruments 
 of promoting a voluntary action. Until not merely a ma¬ 
 jority, but a great majority of the freemen of Virginia be 
 convinced, persuaded, moved to demand liberation from the 
 ruin that is consuming the land, there will be unworthy rude¬ 
 ness and indecorum in bringing in the violence of a new 
 statute to begin the work of purification. She is now in the 
 breathing space after the first mention of it; the spontaneous 
 burst of agitated feeling of last winter shall either perish, or 
 resolve itself into a wise, patient, judicious movement. The 
 summer will have witnessed, by the temper it has matured in 
 her, whether Virginia is capable—not of deep sensibility to 
 supposed claims of patriotism; that the world knows her to 
 possess—not of gusts of enthusiasm for purposes that are 
 lifted above selfish cupidity; all, who know her, have wit¬ 
 nessed her passionate attachment to abstract truth, her sus¬ 
 ceptibility of lasting emotions in its behalf, and her readiness 
 for every mode of self-denial, of privation and self-sacrifice. 
 —But we are to witness whether, recalling her affections 
 from the distant objects to which they have certainly been 
 too exclusively devoted, she is adequate to manage her own 
 possible destiny for good; whether she is framed for that high 
 sort of civil prudence which knows how to project a vast plan 
 of heroic justice, that it will require generations of men of 
 the same temper to execute. We do not hesitate to believe 
 that the ultimate result is not dubious: we repose the fullest 
 confidence in Virginia, the mother of so many colonized com¬ 
 monwealths. 
 
 1 Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce. 
 
 £ 339 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Unhappy America! how portentous a fate has proved 
 hers! It was not enough that the dowry which she brought 
 to Europe when first discovered, the bountiful millions which 
 her mines of gold and silver yielded in the first hundred 
 years, served only to enable Ferdinand, Charles V., and 
 Philip II., to establish the Inquisition, and to crush the free¬ 
 dom of conscience by long and bloody wars, which nothing 
 but American gold could have supported! It was not enough 
 that her fine race of generous barbarians, (the finest the 
 world ever saw) were to perish before the face of civilizing 
 man! But she must suffer too, the pollution of being used 
 as if discovered solely for the wo of Africa! To the discov¬ 
 ery of this continent is due the existence in the world to-day 
 of a single slave with a Christian master. 
 
 It was in 1620, thirteen years after the first settlement of 
 Jamestown, that a Dutch vessel from the Coast of Guinea 
 sailed up James River, and brought the first slave into Brit¬ 
 ish America. We can almost see the hateful form of the 
 slaver, as with her cargo of crime and misery, “rigged with 
 curses,” she bursts into the silent Chesapeake. We see her 
 keel ploughing the pure, because yet free, waters, and now 
 nearing the English plantations. Fatal, fatal ship !—What 
 does she there? Can it indeed be that she comes (and so 
 soon!) to pour the deadliest of hereditary woes into our 
 cradle? How durst the loathsome freight she bears, the 
 accursed shape of slavery intrude itself, of all lands on the 
 earth, upon this vestal soil ? How thrust itself among a race 
 of Anglo-Saxon men in the seventeenth century? how bring 
 its deformity athwart the bold and noble sweep of the com¬ 
 mon law, to mar it all? how mix its curses up (to a greater 
 or less degree in all the British Colonies) with the mass 
 of all our acts, at our hearths, our public councils, and 
 our altars, and bring pollution to our childhood and de¬ 
 crepitude to our youth? On a land set apart by Provi¬ 
 dence for the best growth of manhood—where Magna Carta, 
 the Petition of Rights, the Habeas Corpus, the Bill of Rights, 
 and last, but greatest, the profession in their fulness and sin¬ 
 cerity of the grand, transcendant rights of reason and na¬ 
 il 340)] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 ture, of liberty and equality, were to have their deepest roots; 
 —a land the world’s refuge and the world’s hopehow shall 
 we not weep when the ineradicable seeds are here planted, 
 that shall curse with contradiction and inconsistency all the 
 height of its pride, and make the manly and dilated heart, 
 in the midst of its triumph at one side of its condition, faint 
 and sick, sick to the core with the dust and ashes of the other 
 side! 
 
 We have put the truly statesmanlike speech of the son of 
 the Chief Justice of the United States at the head of this 
 article, because we believe it expresses the opinions of a ma¬ 
 jority of reflecting men in Virginia, and because it coincides 
 more nearly with our own views than any of the other 
 speeches in that debate. If it be inferior in fervid eloquence 
 to some of the others, it possesses the rarer merit of coolness, 
 impartiality, decision, and uncommon political sagacity. We 
 cannot adequately express the satisfaction its perusal gave 
 us, without running into panegyric, which we are sure would 
 be little acceptable to him. Mr. Marshall voted as well 
 against Mr. T. J. Randolph’s motion for submitting the ques¬ 
 tion of abolition at once to the people, and Mr. Preston’s 
 declaring immediate action by the legislature then sitting 
 to be expedient, as against Mr. Goode’s motion to discharge 
 the select committee from the consideration of all petitions, 
 memorials, and resolutions which had for their object the 
 manumission of persons held in servitude under the laws of 
 Virginia, and thus declare it not expedient to legislate at all 
 on the subject. As regards the two first motions, Mr. Mar¬ 
 shall believed that the public mind was not yet prepared for 
 the question of abolition; that the members of that session 
 were not elected in reference to it; and that there were other 
 modes of ascertaining public sentiment on that great ques¬ 
 tion, less agitating than would be the forcing it upon the peo¬ 
 ple for promiscuous discussion. He objected further to Mr. 
 Randolph’s proposition (which embraced only one plan of 
 abolition—that fixing the year 1840 as the time after which 
 all slaves born should be declared public property,) because 
 it was too specific, and instead of merely asserting a prin- 
 
 [34111 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ciple, offered a peculiar plan obnoxious to many objections. 
 But he bad still greater objections to Mr. Goode’s motion to 
 dismiss the subject wholly from the consideration of the 
 house, with the implied understanding that the legislature 
 decidedly repelled all invitations to deliberate on the possi¬ 
 bility of diminishing the evils of slavery. He declared him¬ 
 self entirely convinced that slavery was fruitful of many 
 woes to Virginia, that a general sense of insecurity pervaded 
 the state, and that the citizens were deeply impressed with 
 the conviction that something must be done. He said that 
 there were sure indications that some action is imperatively 
 required of the legislature by the people—that the evil has 
 attained a magnitude, which demands all the skill and energy 
 of prompt and able legislation. He follows up this opinion 
 with much valuable illustration and a number of useful prac¬ 
 tical suggestions. Without entirely assenting to the objec¬ 
 tions of Mr. Marshall to the two first motions above named, 
 we are delighted with the general tone of his remarks. 
 
 Before beginning to unfold more fully our own views of 
 the present exigency in Virginia, we take occasion to declare 
 distinctly that our purpose is not by overcharged pictures of 
 the iniquity of slavery, or the cruel lot of the slaves, to raise 
 a storm of gratuitous indignation in the minds of the people 
 of the United States against Virginia. We believe that there 
 is not the slightest moral turpitude in holding slaves under 
 existing circumstances in the south. We know too that the 
 ordinary condition of slaves in Virginia is not such as to 
 make humanity weep for his lot. Our solicitations to the 
 slaveholders, it will be perceived, are founded but little on 
 the miseries of the Hacks. We direct ourselves almost exclu¬ 
 sively to the injuries slavery inflicts on the whites. And of 
 these evils suffered by the whites, the evil consequences of 
 practising the immorality of slaveholding will not be our 
 mark. Reproach and recrimination on such a subject would 
 answer no good purpose; it would naturally provoke defiance 
 from the slaveholders. All the eloquent invectives of the 
 British abolitionists have not made one convert in the West 
 Indies. This is no part of our humour. It is our object to 
 
 [342 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 lure Virginia onward in her present hopeful state of mind. 
 We mean to confine every word we write to Virginia. The 
 whole scope of this article will be to show the necessity of her 
 promptly doing something to check the palpable mischiefs 
 her prosperity is suffering from slavery. We design to show 
 that all her sources of economical prosperity are poisoned by 
 slavery, and we shall hint at its moral evils only as they occa¬ 
 sion or imply destruction to the real prosperity of a nation. 
 Unless we first make this position impregnable, we shall ask 
 no one to sacrifice merely to abstract humanity and justice. 
 Nor shall we insist on Virginia’s beginning action on this 
 momentous subject, until we have shown that her genuine 
 ultimate interest will be promoted by it. The best way of 
 persuading men of this world to deeds which involve the 
 sacrifice of present interests, is to convince them that a 
 greater prospective interest may be thereby secured. We 
 shall strive then to procure the concurrence of self-interest 
 as well as the approbation of humanity. Hence, even should 
 we succeed in making out our case as to Virginia, it will be 
 instantly remarked that we have said very little that will 
 touch South Carolina and Georgia, and scarcely any thing 
 applicable to Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama. If the 
 prosperity of any of these is founded in circumstances of 
 soil, climate, products, &c., of such nature and degree, as 
 that it will not sink under the precarious specific (neck or 
 nothing) of slave labour, a la bonne heure—let them go on. 
 This is undoubtedly the case more or less of the sugar, cotton, 
 and rice plantation states. But it is not the case of Virginia. 
 We propose to treat 
 
 I. Of the injury slavery does to the prosperity of Virginia. 
 Let us cursorily indicate some of the evils which the experi¬ 
 ence of the United States shows to be consequent on slavery 
 under ordinary circumstances, some of which Virginia has 
 suffered in common with other states, and of some of which 
 she has been peculiarly the victim. 1. An inertness of most of 
 the springs of prosperity—a want of what is commonly called 
 public spirit.—2. Where slave labour prevails, it is scarcely 
 practicable for free labour to co-exist with it to any great 
 
 [343 ] 
 
ABIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 extent. Not that the latter would not deserve the preference, 
 both for cheapness and efficiency, but that many obvious 
 causes conspire to prevent the rivalship being perseveringly 
 sustained. Freedom being itself regarded as a privilege in a 
 nation that has slaves, there is a natural tendency to consider 
 exemption from manual labour as the chief mark of elevation 
 above the class of slaves. In a republic this tendency is 
 vastly increased. A disposition to look on all manual labour 
 as menial and degrading, may safely be set down as a dis¬ 
 temper of the most disastrous kind. We shall not dilate on 
 this. It must instantly be admitted that nothing can com¬ 
 pensate a nation for the destruction of all the virtues which 
 flow from mere industry. Virginia has experienced this most 
 signally: had her slave labour been ten times as productive 
 as it has been, and grant that she possesses all the lofty qual¬ 
 ities ever claimed for her in their highest degree, she would 
 still have been the loser by contracting this ruinous disposi¬ 
 tion. Nothing but the most abject necessity would lead a 
 white man to hire himself to work in the fields under the 
 overseer, and we must say that we cannot refuse to sympa¬ 
 thize with the free labourer who finds it irksome to perform 
 hard work by the side of a slave.—3. Agriculture is the best 
 basis of national wealth. “Arts,” says that eminent farmer 
 Mr. John Taylor of Caroline, “improve the works of nature; 
 when they injure it they are not arts but barbarous cus¬ 
 toms. It is the office of agriculture as an art not to im¬ 
 poverish, but to fertilize the soil and make it more useful 
 than in its natural state. Such is the effect of every species 
 of agriculture which can aspire to the name of an art.” 
 Now it is a truth that an improving system of agriculture 
 cannot be carried on by slaves. The negligent wasteful habits 
 of slaves who are not interested in the estate, and the exact¬ 
 ing cupidity of transient overseers who are interested in ex¬ 
 torting from the earth the greatest amount of production, 
 render all slave agriculture invariably exhausting. How 
 many plantations worked by slaves are there in Virginia 
 which are not perceptibly suffering the sure process of ex¬ 
 haustion? Perhaps not one, except a few on the water 
 
 Cl 344] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 courses, composed of the alluvial soils which are virtually in¬ 
 exhaustible. The uncertainty of the profits of a crop gener¬ 
 ally deters the planters in Virginia from giving standing wages 
 to their overseers—indeed, it has too often happened that the 
 salary of the overseer has absorbed all the proceeds. Hence 
 it is usual to give him, instead of salary, a share of the crop. 
 The murderous effects of this on the fertility of the soil may 
 well be conceived. An estate submitted to overseers entitled 
 to a share of the crop, (who are changed of course, almost 
 yearly) suffers a thousandfold more than would English 
 farms put out on leases of one or two years to fresh lessees. 
 Twenty-one years is thought too short a term there.—4. It is 
 a fact that no soil but the richest, and that in effect inex¬ 
 haustible, can be profitably cultivated by slaves. In the 
 Legislature of Virginia it was repeatedly said that her lands 
 were poor, and for that reason none but slaves could be 
 brought to work them well. On the contrary, poor lands and 
 those of moderate fertility can never repay the expense of 
 slave labour, or bear up under the vices of that slovenly sys¬ 
 tem.—5. In modern times, in most cases -where slave labour 
 prevails, it has been found in plantation states and colonies. 
 There are many obvious reasons why, if profitable any where, 
 it must only be there. Now, if this be the case, it would 
 appear that slavery to be profitable is essentially incompatible 
 with a dense population—at all events, with a relatively 
 dense population of freemen. No country can afford to be 
 given up exclusively to agriculture in the shape of plantation 
 tillage, or to devote the entire attention of all the men it 
 rears to that occupation, except its soil be extremely fertile 
 and its products of the richest nature. Under other circum¬ 
 stances, the soil and products not making adequate returns, 
 there is a vast waste of capabilities for other purposes, which 
 the surface of many countries might well answer.—6. It 
 seems agreed among the economists of the south that slaves 
 are unfit for the business of manufactures. A most sensible 
 essay was published in Philadelphia in 1827 by Dr. Jones, 
 afterwards superintendent of the Patent Office at Washing¬ 
 ton, to show that slaves are not necessarily unfit for this em- 
 
 C345] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ployment. We were persuaded at the time, that, if his 
 position were true, it would prove the most important of all 
 suggestions in an economical view, to Virginia. It has sur¬ 
 prised us, indeed, that the advocates of the perpetuity of 
 slavery in Virginia haVfe not seen the immense advantage of 
 such an argument to their side of the question. But the en¬ 
 tire current of opinion in the south (led by an invincible 
 sentiment of hostility to the protective system) is that states 
 where slave labour prevails, and where the whole capital for 
 labour is vested in slaves, cannot manufacture. It will need 
 no words to show what an injury this voluntary disability 
 inflicts on a country which may happen to have the most 
 felicitous capacities for manufactures.—7. Where slave la¬ 
 bour prevails, it would appear that the rearing a large class 
 of skilful mechanics is greatly discouraged. The slaves them¬ 
 selves of course never make mechanics except of the coarsest 
 description. Although the whites in the cities are not en¬ 
 tirely averse to becoming artisans, yet, in the country, the 
 natural policy of the rich planters to have mechanics among 
 their slaves to do all the needful business on their estates, 
 deprives the white mechanics of their chief encouragement 
 to perfect themselves in their trades, diminishes the demand 
 for their services, and generally has the effect of expelling 
 them from one neighbourhood to another until they finally 
 expatriate themselves.—8. Slave labour is, without contro¬ 
 versy, dearer than free. It suffices to state, that in the one 
 case you have a class of labourers that have a direct interest 
 in doing and saving as little as possible, so that they barely 
 escape punishment; in the other a class, every member of 
 which has a direct interest in producing and saving as much 
 as possible. But this position is too well established to jus¬ 
 tify any one in an argument to prove it. The categories 
 wherein the contrary holds true are cumulatively: a. it must 
 be in a plantation country; b. it must be in a soil extremely 
 and inexhaustibly fertile; c. where the products are of the 
 greatest value; d. and after all, it must be where white men 
 cannot endure the climate and the nature of the cultivation.— 
 9. The experience of the United States has shown that slavery 
 
 C346H 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 decidedly discourages immigration (to use Dr. Southey’s 
 word) from foreign countries into the sections of country 
 where it is prevalent. It is not a sufficient answer to this 
 to say that the emigrants are in general allured to the United 
 States by the temptation of the rich country in the west, so 
 that slavery cannot be said to repel them from the southern 
 states. It is not true of the best emigrants that come to our 
 shores, that they are intent on pushing into the pathless for¬ 
 est, to be there banished from all the blessings of a settled 
 country. This is in fact the positive passion of none but the 
 hardy native pioneers, the Boones of Vermont, of New-York, 
 and Virginia. The Germans, for example, who are perhaps 
 the most valuable of the emigrants to America, are not peo¬ 
 ple who would prefer to make their home in the midst of 
 the extreme discomforts and often cruel privations which the 
 pioneers undergo. Besides, what repels all those emigrants 
 who are not agriculturists, and whose occupations lead them 
 among crowds of men? Of immigration into the slave-hold¬ 
 ing States, except in some of the western States, where the 
 principle of slavery is not yet predominant, it may be said 
 there is none. The emigrants understand that their hope of 
 employment there is forestalled, that the only labour wanted 
 is indigenous to the soil; they feel that that labour is incom¬ 
 patible with their own, and they shrink from the idea of 
 giving their children, who are to live by manual labour, a 
 home in a slave-labour land, while fair regions, dedicated as 
 well to domestic as to civil freedom, tempt their adventurous 
 footsteps. With this evil may be classed the tendency of 
 the whites of these States to emigrate from the soil of their 
 birth.—10. Slavery begets inevitably a train of habits and 
 opinions which, to say the least, are destructive of all those 
 springs of prosperity which depend on economy, frugality, 
 enterprise. Young people bred up to be maintained by 
 slaves are apt to imbibe improvident habits. Of its favour¬ 
 able operation on the spirit of liberty in the whites, we are 
 not disposed to question the well known opinion of Mr. 
 Burke: the passage we refer to, is itself an evidence of the 
 profound knowledge he possessed of the human heart. We 
 
 C317] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 consider it truer, however, of the spirit of liberty in its aspect 
 of resistance to foreign oppression: in its home aspect it is, 
 we think, comparatively just. But as relates to its operation 
 in equalizing the whites with each other, we throw out the 
 suggestion without note or comment, that no property gives 
 rise to greater inequalities than slave property. We ques¬ 
 tion, too, whether it could well be maintained that the beau 
 ideal of a nabob—(we use the word in its fair, not invidious 
 sense,)—endow him with nobleness of soul, sensibility, the 
 utmost delicacy of honour, generosity, and hospitality—is 
 the finest specimen of our species. There are many solid and 
 essential virtues (wholly disconnected with those named) 
 which could not so well be dispensed with as some of those, 
 in going to make up the being of whom par excellence nature 
 might stand up and say ‘ ‘ this is a man. ’ ’ 
 
 We can now venture to define pretty accurately what sort 
 of a country that must be, which having regard solely to the 
 economical principles, is adapted to be for a long term of years 
 a prosperous slave-labour State. It must possess an extremely 
 rich soil, hence under most circumstances be a comparatively 
 small country, (otherwise the greater the difficulty of finding 
 a uniformly fine soil, and consequently the impossibility of 
 making the ivhole State flourish), in a latitude the products 
 of which, from their scarcity in the world, the permanent 
 demand for them, and the possibility of rearing them in but 
 few spots on the globe, are sure of a market at high prices, 
 where the culture of such crops requires that the slaves be 
 worked together in bodies, so that the constant supervision 
 necessary over them may be performed by a few whites, and 
 finally in a climate so nearly tropical, or otherwise precari¬ 
 ous, as to make the exposure and toil insupportable to free 
 (say white) labourers. A country uniting all these requi¬ 
 sites may be prosperous with slave labour. It possesses cer¬ 
 tain sources of wealth, by the help of which it may dispense 
 with many others, that are the necessary resource of countries 
 of moderate fertility, and which are under different general 
 circumstances. Such a country seems to need the moral- 
 economical springs less. It will of necessity contain a sparse 
 
 [348 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 white population, but it may be formidable in war from its 
 superior relative wealth. The countries growing cotton, rice, 
 and the sugar cane, bountifully, are of this description. For 
 aught we know, Brazil may fall under the definition. The 
 principal West India islands appear to be entitled to expect 
 prosperity, (supposing no adverse adventitious circum¬ 
 stances) but Louisiana unites all the requisites more per¬ 
 fectly perhaps than any other country. South Carolina and 
 Georgia do it but imperfectly, on account of there being so 
 large a portion of both of them to which such description 
 would not at all apply; Alabama and Mississippi do more 
 perfectly than they. But it may boldly be said that Vir¬ 
 ginia possesses scarcely a single requisite to make a prosper¬ 
 ous slave-labour State. 
 
 She has not the inexhaustible rich soils: her earth orig¬ 
 inally yielded fair returns to hard labour judiciously di¬ 
 rected, but all such soils, as she has learned by bitter experi¬ 
 ence, are fated, under the hands of slaves, to deterioration 
 down to utter barrenness. She has too large a territory: the 
 curse of the presence of slaves and the monopoly of labour in 
 their hands, is all over the State; the spots really adapted 
 for profitable slave labour are few and scattered. She has 
 not the sort of products: only a small part of the State pro¬ 
 duces cotton; the culture of tobacco, which was originally 
 the general staple of Old Virginia proper, after destroying 
 immense tracts of good lands, is shrinking into a very dimin¬ 
 ished compass, and scarcely repays the cost of production 
 under the average prices of the last fifteen years. If any one 
 would cast his eye over the list of the Tobacco Inspections 
 established by law, in the revised code of Virginia, he -would 
 smile to see places mentioned for inspection warehouses, in 
 quarters of Virginia where no man has ever seen a hundred 
 weight of tobacco. Besides this, there is an unlimited com¬ 
 petition springing up around her, to reduce prices to noth¬ 
 ing. With regard to the crops of tobacco of the western 
 states, we can say with confidence, that there is a regular 
 annual increase in quantity, with great improvement in its 
 curing and management; so that it is fast taking the place 
 
 [349] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 of Virginia tobacco for consumption in the leaf in the north 
 of Europe, and as strips in Great Britain. The article of to¬ 
 bacco is now cultivated in Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois, Indiana, 
 Missouri, Tennessee, and in Canada, as well as Maryland, 
 Virginia, the Carolinas and Georgia, The quantity raised is 
 altogether too great for consumption. The other products of 
 Virginia are the ordinary growth of all temperate, and most 
 northern regions. She has not the climate which would put 
 slaves on the vantage ground above ivhites: every part of her 
 territory is adapted to the men of all climates, and she has 
 not a foot of soil which nature declares that none but blacks 
 shall cultivate, nor a product the cultivation of which de¬ 
 mands lives and labours baser than those of white men. To¬ 
 bacco is notoriously cultivated with success by whites in any 
 part of the world, which is temperate enough to grow it. It 
 is then a total miscalculation in every point of view—a false 
 position for Virginia to have allotted to herself the exclusive 
 labour of slaves. 
 
 But appeal is made to the history of the economy of Vir¬ 
 ginia to contradict this assertion. Is it demanded for in¬ 
 stance, why Virginia should prosper before the Revolution 
 as she did, with her slave labour, if there be a fatal error in 
 her adoption of slavery? We may answer, that there is no 
 great mystery in that. Virginia while a colony never did 
 furnish the miracles of great and sudden fortunes which the 
 West India and South Carolina nabobs used to exhibit in 
 England. Adam Smith in his day made this remark. At 
 that time fine tobacco was an article only grown in Virginia 
 and Maryland, and the prices were relatively to the times 
 very high; whereas now, and for all future time, a competi¬ 
 tion wholly beyond the conception of that day has completely 
 revolutionized the market. But admit that the colony was 
 very prosperous: if from this it is meant to argue that Vir¬ 
 ginia may again be so under the same system, we hope it will 
 not at least be denied that the Revolution found almost all 
 the lands which had been opened nearly or quite exhausted, 
 showing plainly that the preceding hundred years had been 
 passed in fits of profitable planting from the frequent resort 
 
 [350] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 to successive new lands. Mr. Taylor of Caroline had under¬ 
 stood that 60,000 hogsheads of tobacco were exported from Vir¬ 
 ginia, when the whole population did not exceed 150,000. Had 
 the fertility of the country by possibility remained undimin¬ 
 ished, (as he says it would, if her slave agriculture had been 
 any thing else than “a barbarous custom,” not an art,) Vir¬ 
 ginia ought in 1810 to have exported 240,000 hogsheads, or 
 their equivalent in other produce, and at present nearly the 
 double of that. Thus the agricultural exports of Virginia in 
 1810 would, at the estimated prices of the Custom House at 
 that time, have been seventeen millions of dollars, and now at 
 least thirty-four, while it is known that they are not of late 
 years greater than from three to five millions! This will at 
 once show that the great crops of the colonial times were 
 forced, or we may say exaggerated by the possession of 
 means, which will never again be in her hands. 
 
 The fact that the whole agricultural products of the State 
 at present, do not exceed in value the exports eighty or 
 ninety years ago, when it contained not a sixth of the popu¬ 
 lation, and when not a third of the surface of the State (at 
 present Virginia) was at all occupied, is however a very striking 
 proof of the decline of its agriculture. What is now the pro¬ 
 ductive value of an estate of land and negroes in Virginia? 
 We state as the result of extensive inquiry, embracing the 
 last fifteen years, that a very great proportion of the larger 
 plantations, with from fifty to one hundred slaves, actually 
 bring their proprietors in debt at the end of a short term of 
 years, notwithstanding what would once in Virginia have 
 been deemed very sheer economy; that much the larger part 
 of the considerable landholders are content, if they barely 
 meet their plantation expenses without a loss of capital; and 
 that, of those who make any profit, it will in none but rare 
 instances average more than one to one and a half per cent, 
 on the capital invested. The case is not materially varied 
 with the smaller proprietors. Mr. Randolph of Roanoke, 
 whose sayings have so generally the raciness and the truth 
 of proverbs, has repeatedly said in Congress, that the time 
 was coming when the masters would run away from the 
 
 C 351 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 slaves and be advertised by them in the public papers. A 
 decided improvement in the Virginia system is taking place 
 in some parts of the State, which consists in the abandonment 
 of the culture of tobacco for that of wheat, Indian corn, &c., 
 which can be produced on soil too poor for tobacco, requires 
 fewer labourers, and will not be so apt to reduce the fertility 
 of the soil still lower. This is a judicious thing in itself, but 
 here again recurs the truth we have already set forth: plan¬ 
 tations with such products as these never can be profitably 
 managed with slave labour. Wheat and corn will not do for 
 this; let the planter turn his sons in to work his lands, and 
 then these products will suffice. Tobacco was the only article 
 which ever could by possibility justify the expense of slave 
 labour in Virginia; and now we see that the wiser planters 
 are to a great degree withdrawing their lands from it. 
 
 There is however one way in which capital invested in 
 slaves may be said to be productive. We will now let the 
 reader into a secret of slave-holding economy. The only 
 form in which it can safely be said that slaves on a planta¬ 
 tion are profitable in Virginia, is in the multiplication of 
 their number by births. If the proprietor, beginning with a 
 certain number of negroes, can but keep them for a few years 
 from the hands of the sheriff or the slave trader, though their 
 labour may have yielded him not a farthing of nett revenue, 
 he finds that gradually but surely, his capital stock of ne¬ 
 groes multiplies itself, and yields, if nothing else, a palpable 
 interest of young negroes. While very young they occasion 
 small expense, but they render none or small service; when 
 grown up, their labour, as we have already seen, hardly does 
 more than balance the expense they occasion. The process 
 of multiplication will not in this way advance the master 
 towards the point of a nett revenue; he is not the richer in 
 income with the fifty slaves than with twenty. Yet these 
 young negroes have their value: and what value ? The value 
 of the slaves so added to his number is the certain price for 
 which they will at any time sell to the southern trader. 
 Should the humanity of the proprietor, however, and his 
 rare fortune in keeping out of debt, prevail on him never to 
 
 C 352 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 treat his slaves as live stock for traffic, he finds himself in- 
 cumbered with the same unproductive burden as before. 
 That master alone finds productive value in his increase of 
 slaves, who chooses to turn the increase of his capital, at 
 regular intervals, into money at the highest market price! 
 There are, we make haste to say, very many masters with 
 whom it is a fixed rule never to sell a slave, except for incor¬ 
 rigibly bad character, so long as the pressure of necessity 
 does not compel it. There are some who would feel it to be 
 the wanton breach of a tie next in sanctity to the most sacred 
 of the domestic relations. But such sensibility cannot be 
 supposed to be universal. Accordingly, the State does de¬ 
 rive a tangible profit from its slaves: this is true to the 
 heart’s content of the adversaries of abolition, and that by 
 means of yearly sales to the negro traders. An account, on 
 which we may rely, sets down the annual number of slaves 
 sold to go out of the State at six thousand, or more than half 
 the number of births! The population returns show only a 
 yearly addition of four thousand eight hundred to the slaves 
 remaining in the State. If all these sales were the result of 
 the necessities of the masters, while it must for ever be la¬ 
 mented, it would at the same time be the most portentous 
 proof of the financial ruin of the planters of the State. But 
 if otherwise, if but a common course of business regularly 
 gone into for profit, what volumes does it speak of the degra¬ 
 dation to which slavery may reduce its supporters! And will 
 “the aspiring blood of Lancaster” endure it to be said that 
 a Guinea is still to be found in America, and that Guinea is 
 Virginia^ That children are reared with the express object 
 of sale into distant regions, and that in numbers but little 
 less than the whole number of annual births? It may be 
 that there is a small section of Virginia (perhaps we could 
 indicate it) where the theory of population is studied with 
 reference to the yearly income from the sale of slaves. Shall 
 the profits to Virginia, from this contaminated source, be 
 alleged as an economical argument to magnify the sacrifice 
 involved in the abolition of slavery, and this too by states¬ 
 men who profess to execrate the African slave trade? For 
 
 C 353 3 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ourselves, we can see but little difference between this form 
 of the internal slave trade and the African trade itself. But 
 we have too deep a stake ourselves in the good name of the 
 land of Washington and Jefferson, to be willing to admit that 
 this form of profit from slaves is cherished by any but a very 
 few persons. This is not then an income which Virginia loves 
 to reap. She scorns those who resort to it, and will count 
 lightly of the sacrifice which the extinction of this fountain 
 of impure wealth would involve. 
 
 Banishing this then out of view, there is no productive 
 value of slaves in Virginia. Shut up all outlet into the 
 southern and southwestern States, and the price of slaves in 
 Virginia would sink down to a cypher. Without the possi¬ 
 bility of deriving from slave labour any of the benefits, by 
 which in some countries it seems to compensate (whether 
 adequately or not) for its pernicious moral effects, Virginia 
 is cursed with an institution unproductive of good to her, 
 and potent in mischiefs beyond all her fears. If ever there 
 was a specific, which failing of its possible good effects, would 
 induce irremediable pains, it is slavery. We check the strug¬ 
 gling inclination to paint the woes Virginia has suffered from 
 its miscarriage, in their true colours, but the truth would 
 seem exaggeration. Take then the following temperate de¬ 
 tail from the speech of Mr. Marshall, every word of which is 
 true by the experience of Virginia: 
 
 “Wherefore, then, object to slavery? Because it is ruin¬ 
 ous to the whites—retards improvement—roots out an indus¬ 
 trious population—banishes the yeomanry of the country— 
 deprives the spinner, the weaver, the smith, the shoemaker, 
 the carpenter, of employment and support. This evil admits 
 of no remedy; it is increasing and will continue to increase, 
 until the whole country will be inundated with one black 
 wave covering its whole extent, with a few white faces here 
 and there floating on the surface. The master has no capital 
 but what is vested in [slaves;] the father, instead of being 
 richer for his sons, is at a loss to provide for them—there is 
 no diversity of occupations, no incentive to enterprise. La¬ 
 bour of every species is disreputable because performed 
 
 C354] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 mostly by slaves. Our towns are stationary, our villages 
 almost every where declining, and the general aspect of the 
 country marks the curse of a wasteful, idle, reckless popula¬ 
 tion, who have no interest in the soil, and care not how much 
 it is impoverished. Public improvements are neglected, and 
 the entire continent does not present a region for which 
 nature has done so much, and art so little. If cultivated by 
 free labour, the soil of Virginia is capable of sustaining a 
 dense population, among whom labour would be honourable, 
 and where ‘the busy hum of men’ would tell that all were 
 happy, and that all were free.” 
 
 Virginia has suffered, and is now suffering under all the 
 ten specifications just given, and in a greater degree than 
 any other of the slave-holding States could. Her statesmen 
 and engineers mourn over her inertness of spirit for public 
 improvements; her economists mourn over the little inclina¬ 
 tion of her citizens to labour of any kind; her agriculturists 
 upbraid her for letting the soil sink into irrecoverable ex¬ 
 haustion, that she is burdened with the dearest sort of la¬ 
 bour, and persists in applying to a country of originally 
 moderate fertility, a system absolutely ruinous to any but the 
 richest alluvial soils; that industry and frugality are ban¬ 
 ished ; that she renders it virtually impossible to open a new 
 source of wealth in manufactures, and that while the prin¬ 
 ciple of population is almost stagnant among her whites, and 
 her own sons are departing from her, she repulses by her 
 domestic relations all the emigrants to America from the 
 old world, who might else come in to repair her ruin. It is 
 ridiculous to talk of the prosperity of a country wholly agri¬ 
 cultural, with slave labour and exhausted lands. The proud 
 homes of Virginia, from the Revolution down to this day, 
 have been passing from the hands of their high-minded pro¬ 
 prietors, to the humble overseers that used to sit below the 
 salt at their board, and from them in their turn to some other 
 newer parvenus: agriculture has failed to enrich. Of the 
 white emigrants from Virginia, at least half are hard work¬ 
 ing men, who carry away with them little besides their tools 
 and a stout heart of hope: the mechanic trades have failed 
 
 C355 3 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 to give them bread. Commerce she has little, shipping none, 
 and it is a fact that the very staple of the state, tobacco, is 
 not exported by her own capital—the state does virtually a 
 commission business in it. All the sources of prosperity, 
 moral and economical, are deadened; there is a general dis¬ 
 content with one’s lot; in some of the first settled and choicest 
 parts of her territory, symptoms are not wanting of desolate 
 antiquity. And all this in youthful .America, and in Vir¬ 
 ginia too, the fairest region of America, and with a race of 
 people inferior to none in the world in its capacity to consti¬ 
 tute a prosperous nation. 
 
 There are some facts disclosed by the population returns 
 for 1830, which we are not aware have been fully brought to 
 the public notice. Every one is now acquainted with the 
 uncomfortable truth, that the whites east of the Blue Ridge 
 had in 1790 a majority of 25,000, and that in the course of 
 forty years they have not only lost it, but suffered the blacks 
 to get an ascendency in number to the extent of 81,000: thus 
 the advance of the blacks is 106,000 in that half of the State 
 in that period. But we may see by the subjoined table that 
 there are not a few counties of middle as well as lower Vir¬ 
 ginia, (component parts of eastern Virginia) which have 
 actually diminished in white population in the last ten years! 
 The first five are counties between the Blue Ridge and the 
 head of tide-water; the others below the head of tide-water. 
 
 Whites in 
 
 1820. 
 
 1830. 
 
 Brunswick 
 
 5889 
 
 5397 
 
 Amelia 
 
 3409 
 
 3293 
 
 Goochland 
 
 3976 
 
 3857 
 
 Loudon 
 
 16144 
 
 15516 
 
 Mecklenburg 
 
 7710 
 
 7543 
 
 Fairfax 
 
 6224 
 
 4892 
 
 James City 
 
 1556 
 
 1284 
 
 Whites in 
 
 1820. 
 
 1830. 
 
 King & Queen 
 
 5460 
 
 4714 
 
 King William 
 
 3449 
 
 3155 
 
 Lancaster 
 
 2388 
 
 1976 
 
 Northumberland 
 
 4134 
 
 4029 
 
 Sussex 
 
 4155 
 
 4118 
 
 Stafford 
 
 4788 
 
 4713 
 
 Warwick 
 
 620 
 
 619 
 
 These counties at an average annual increase of three per 
 cent, (which is sufficiently moderate) would have added 
 more than 20,000 to their aggregate numbers; they have sus- 
 
 £356 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 tained a loss of near 5000 in ten years, which is fully one 
 twelfth of their capital in 1820. Conjecturally the people 
 in these counties are as prolific as elsewhere; emigration, the 
 result of the characteristic ills of Virginia, has done most to 
 occasion this loss. All of these are fine counties. 
 
 We freely grant that a slow increase of population is pos¬ 
 sible in a country where the utmost is made of all its re¬ 
 sources, and that in certain cases it implies a higher degree 
 of civilization, for prudence in such matters denotes civiliza¬ 
 tion it seems. But unless the employment of prudential 
 checks be suggested by danger of an overcrowded population, 
 certainly they are little to be desired by statesmen. The 
 unnecessary introduction of prudential checks leads to the 
 application of means destined by Providence for the subsis¬ 
 tence of men, to a thousand less worthy purposes; as, when 
 that food, which would support the same number or double of 
 human beings, is bestowed on pleasure, horses, and dogs. 
 Where population has not yet approximated the capacity of 
 the country to furnish subsistence, it is premature and un- 
 happy to begin the employment of too much prudence, to 
 discourage marriages. In fact, this never will occur, unless 
 some powerful agents have been at work to benumb, not 
 merely the spring of population, blit all the springs of pros¬ 
 perity. A very slow increase, or a diminution, w r ould be an 
 indication of want of prosperity not to be mistaken in most 
 parts of the United States; for example, where subsistence is 
 easy to obtain, and population can scarcely any where be said 
 to have, pressed on subsistence. It is said by some persons 
 that the preventive checks (prudential) are in fuller opera¬ 
 tion in Virginia than in the north. We confess we had enter¬ 
 tained an opposite idea. What is the usual age of marriages 
 in Virginia and what in New England? Is forecast indeed 
 more prevalent in Virginia than in New England? If this 
 be indeed so, then unhappy causes must have been at work 
 to produce it. 
 
 But it has been further said that the standard of comfort 
 is higher in Virginia than in the northern states, that this 
 denotes higher civilization, and thus the inertness of the prin- 
 
 [ 357 ^ 
 
AKIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ciple of population is her highest eulogy. If this be her 
 reliance for a high eulogium, we are sorry to say that the 
 ground is rapidly slipping from under her feet, for the stan¬ 
 dard of comfort in Virginia has greatly lowered and is daily 
 lowering. All the chief glories of Virginia style are faded: 
 gone is the massy coach with its stately attelage of four and 
 six horses, shut is the beneficent hall-door, which, as if nailed 
 wide open, once welcomed all comers to its princely hospi¬ 
 tality! The watering places no longer blaze with the rich 
 but decent pomp of the Virginian, the cities but rarely bear 
 witness to his generous expense. Every thing indicates that 
 he has reduced his idea of a becoming style of living to a very 
 moderate scale. This ingenious supposition, therefore, will 
 not account for the stagnation of population. The actual 
 state of the standard of comfort, in effect, is itself a part of 
 the universal evidence of her decline. If you would assert 
 of any part of the United States, where the population was 
 very slowly increasing, stationary, or retrograde, that it is 
 not the worse off for that, you must at least exhibit proof that 
 the positive amount of wealth of that part has been augment¬ 
 ing; and we may add, that, to be conclusive, the augmenta¬ 
 tion must be in the inverse ratio of the difference between the 
 average activity of the principle of population in the United 
 States, and its very reduced activity in that particular part 
 of the country. If Massachusetts or Rhode Island could be 
 said to be stationary in population, it might unquestionably 
 be said of them too, that their augmentation of wealth and 
 general prosperity was in this or a greater ratio. 
 
 But we look on this whole subject of the increase of na¬ 
 tional wealth, population, &c., in the case of Virginia, from 
 a somewhat more elevated point. There are involved herein 
 high and solemn obligations on Virginia if she would ever 
 strive to fulfil her destiny. The introduction of industry and 
 enterprise is matter to her of moral obligation; the endeavour 
 to add to the stock of wealth of the state, as a token and 
 source of general prosperity, is even a moral duty in her 
 case. It is the distinguishing glory and responsibility of the 
 American States, that 
 
 n 358 n 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 ‘ ‘ In their proper motion they ascend; 
 
 -descent and fall 
 
 To them is adverse.” 
 
 It is only by “compulsion and laborious flight” that they 
 sink at all. The fitting herself for the rivalship in prosperity 
 and moral dignity, which the Old World beholds in North 
 America with awe and wonder, is the most august of all inter¬ 
 ests and duties, it seems to us, in the appointment of the 
 Providence of the Almighty, save only one: conscience and 
 liberty are the highest concerns to her and to every people! 
 Let any one select for himself out of the pictures of the 
 prosperity of the United States drawn in the books of travel¬ 
 lers, of public economists, or of political speculators: Europe 
 sighs at these bright sketches of transatlantic felicity; yet, of 
 all these brilliant traits, how few' are true of Virginia! In¬ 
 deed though literally true of some parts of America, they are 
 scarcely at all descriptive of this, or of any among the older 
 slave-holding States. Suppose the war of American Indepen¬ 
 dence had resulted in nothing but the establishment of the 
 Atlantic slave-holding States as new sovereigntiesthe 
 w'orld would have been still to seek for a home for the emi¬ 
 grants of all nations, and for the grand series of spectacles 
 which are said to be the dearest sight in the eyes of the pow¬ 
 ers above: that of men congregating together to found new 
 cities under just laws. Even as early as the date of the 
 Federal Constitution, eastern Virginia had begun to show 
 many of the symptoms of an old commonw'ealth: a tendency 
 to decline, under the influence of an apathy almost on a level 
 with that of the people of the Pope’s dominions; while New- 
 York appeared manifestly the cradle of a vast nation. It 
 seems to us, we must confess, that of all the States, none is 
 more unequivocally marked out by nature for the prosperous 
 abode of a homogeneous race of freemen than Virginia. Hers 
 is not a land which should have been stained by the tread of 
 a slave. A philosopher who had surveyed the map of Vir¬ 
 ginia, noted between what degrees she is placed, with what 
 a wealth of land and water she is endowed, and how she is 
 
 [359] 
 
ARTS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 rounded off into an empire to herself, would hear with amaze¬ 
 ment that she had suicidally adopted slave labour. We ex¬ 
 tract the following faithful picture from the official report 
 of the principal engineer of Virginia for the year 1827 
 
 “No where has the kind hand of Providence been more 
 profusely bountiful than in Virginia; blessed with a climate, 
 and a fertile soil, producing cotton and the best tobacco, be¬ 
 sides the common staples of the northern States, to which she 
 even exports her flour; abounding with rich mines; her coal 
 nearer to tide water than that of any other State. Virginia 
 is no less favoured in her geographical position: she occupies 
 in the Union an important central position, and the mouth 
 of the Chesapeake; that fine harbour, always open, strongly 
 protected against aggression, is equal even to that of New- 
 York. [Add to this that no State is more blessed in the 
 number, character, and distribution of her rivers.] She pos¬ 
 sesses, besides, perhaps more than any other State, the ele¬ 
 ments of manufactures; she has in abundance water power, 
 coal, iron and raw materials. With these immense resources 
 Virginia may ask why she is not the most flourishing State 
 in the Union? Why she does not occupy the commercial 
 station for which nature designed her ? Circumstances 
 purely accidental and temporary can alone have produced 
 this state of things. ’ ’ 
 
 It is food for irony, aye very bitter irony, to know that a 
 country, thus made the fittest in the world for freemen, is not 
 in fact good enough to be worked by slaves! We seem to 
 have before us in her the image of a youthful power of the 
 world lapsed from her high destiny, and in the homage of 
 filial awe and grief we bow down with trembling over her 
 decay! It is to us men of the western world as if the ‘ ‘ Prince 
 of the lights of heaven, which now as a giant doth run his 
 unwearied course, should, as it were through a languishing 
 faintness, begin to stand and to rest himself.” 1 Yet, we 
 fondly imagine, it is but for a moment: the fiery vigour shall 
 soon work off the corruption, and the celestial origin shall 
 quickly show itself in a career of uneclipsed beauty. And 
 1 Hooker, I. 3. 
 
 [ 1360 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 when Virginia, by disembarrassing herself of all checks on 
 her prosperity, and purging off all her evils, is fully girt for 
 the race she has appointed to her, we are persuaded that 
 there is not one wholesome feeling, not one patriotic prin¬ 
 ciple, which might gain her the affection of the southern 
 states, (let her not fear this), and the admiration of all, and 
 that could make her eminent among commonwealths, which 
 she would be found to want. 
 
 If such be the evils under which Virginia has already 
 languished, it remains to consider whether they are likely 
 to increase. They must increase; they are rapidly corrod¬ 
 ing all the hitherto sound elements, and they will go on 
 to spread mischiefs of their own kind until they will be 
 felt by all to have effected absolute ruin. But as soon as 
 slavery has grown to a great extent, there comes in a new evil 
 of a different cast: this is danger, physical danger. On this 
 subject we forbear to touch except with a scrupulous hand. 
 We feel all the delicacy of urging any considerations ad¬ 
 dressed to the fears of a gallant people. But there is that in 
 the nature of a servile war, which sets at nought as well the 
 most chivalrous courage, as the security of civil police and of 
 military discipline. We may go on to say then, that in 1830, 
 the whole popvdation of Virginia was 1,211,272, of which 
 694,445 are whites, 469,724 are slaves, 47,103 free blacks; that 
 457,000 blacks are east of the Blue Ridge, while only 375,935 
 whites are east of the mountains. 1 We do not believe that in 
 any short time to come the blacks will be able to rise and 
 overpower the whites. But the experience of 1831 teaches 
 what an amount of calamity in fact, and misery from alarm, 
 may be the result of the insurrection of a contemptible hand¬ 
 ful of slaves. These partial risings may occur at any time: 
 
 i It will be perceived that we have studiously avoided making invidi¬ 
 ous distinctions between Virginia east and west of the Blue Ridge, and 
 this even at the risk of doing much injustice to the west. Once for all, 
 it is to be understood that the mischiefs of slavery are much less in the 
 west than the east. But we are determined to regard the State as 
 one, and the ills suffered by one part as the common calamity, proper 
 for the deliberation of every county. 
 
 [361] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 are they not worthy of anticipatory apprehension ? But that 
 the time will come when the blacks will be so numerous and 
 so concentrated in a section of the State, as to be truly for¬ 
 midable to the whites, we cannot doubt, if the fixed principles 
 of our species prove but faithful to themselves. We have 
 seen how slow is the increase of the white population in Vir¬ 
 ginia, and we must not overlook the fact of the rapid increase 
 of the black. Notwithstanding the constant drain of her 
 slaves (say 6000, or one-half of their increase) to supply the 
 plantations of the new States, the slaves have so multiplied, 
 that though east of the Blue Ridge in 1790 the whites had a 
 majority of 25,000, in 1830 the blacks had grown to a ma¬ 
 jority of 81,000 ! The emigration of whites in this period has 
 by no possibility equalled that of blacks. What are the 
 presages to be drawn from this ? But some flatter themselves 
 that this relative inequality will not increase—perhaps will 
 not be even so great in 1840. Mr. Marshall has told us, that 
 by the census of 1830, the number of slaves in Eastern Vir¬ 
 ginia under ten years of age, exceeds that of whites of the 
 same age, more than 31,000! What can more solemnly show 
 that the disparity existing in our generation is small com¬ 
 pared with that which will in all probability exist in the 
 generation of our children ? 
 
 But it has been said by some that even this probable in¬ 
 crease portends no danger, if the whites do but go on increas¬ 
 ing, though in unequal proportions. It is proved thus: 
 
 The police necessary to keep order in a community is never 
 greater than one man out of every hundredthus while the 
 population is one hundred, the hundredth man may not be 
 able to enforce obediencewhen grown to a thousand, the 
 one hundred police men may succeed better, and when ar¬ 
 rived at a million, the decimal ten thousand is certain to 
 maintain order under all circumstances. In this way it is 
 pretended that the security goes on increasing. It is all a 
 mistake, then, that rebellions have ever triumphed in coun¬ 
 tries where the police (civil or military,) amounted to ten 
 thousand! But every one sees up to what point it is true, 
 that the safety increases pari passu with the materials of 
 
 C362 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 danger, and how as you pass that point the security dimin¬ 
 ishes. Virginia herself has already passed this point. We 
 recommend this security to England in her police in Ireland: 
 she will find the two millions of Protestants able to furnish 
 twice ten thousand men, who demonstratively can keep down 
 the five millions of Catholics without aid from England; but 
 if they cannot do it to-day, they surely will, when the two 
 parties have each doubled their numbers. This method of 
 deriving increasing security from redoubling danger, is par¬ 
 allel to Hermes Harris’s definition of the indefinite article: 
 “a method of supply by negation.” It follows from it that 
 Virginia was all along mistaken, when, before the Revolution, 
 she essayed three and twenty times to gain the royal assent 
 to a law to provide for her domestic safety by prohibiting 
 the further introduction of slaves from Africa; that she but 
 exposed herself to ridicule, when she taunted the king in the 
 preamble to her constitution, with “the inhuman use of the 
 royal negative;” and that Louisiana has wholly blundered 
 in laying so many obstacles in the way of the introduction of 
 slaves from the other States, under hope to save herself from 
 future civil war. But the example of Brazil is pointed out 
 to us: it is true that Brazil is imbruted by a proportion of 
 four millions of slaves to one million of whites, and her un¬ 
 natural empire still exists. Yes, and her existence hangs by 
 a hair. If we are not misinformed, the German recruits that 
 mutinied for ill treatment, and were quelled by the slaves 
 being turned loose on them, (they were proclaimed free game 
 to any slave that would massacre them—what the poor Ger¬ 
 mans would have called vogelfrei), might give our specu¬ 
 lates a lesson on the terrors of the Brazilian slave popula¬ 
 tion. 
 
 But grant it true, that the multiplication of the slaves will 
 not go on at the present rapid rate, in Virginia: when we con¬ 
 sider that there are adequate causes working which are cer¬ 
 tain to keep back the whites, it is impossible not to regard 
 the increase of the slaves at any probable rate as full of dan¬ 
 ger. It is the simple case of a distinct race of people within 
 our bosom, now nearly equal, soon to be more numerous than 
 
 C 363 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ourselves, exposed to every temptation (we do not say induce¬ 
 ment) to become our deadliest foe. This is the danger which 
 reasoning cannot check nor argument avert. Police can 
 never save harmless against an enemy that is at your hearth 
 and in the most confidential relations with you. Besides, 
 what profit does slavery confer on Virginia to make any one 
 willing to see established a standing force of five or ten thou¬ 
 sand men, at an expense equal to that of the whole peace 
 establishment of the army of the United States? 
 
 The only rational ground for believing that Virginia will 
 never contain the vast number of slaves, given by the esti¬ 
 mates for the end of the next hundred years, is that the im¬ 
 poverishment of the state will make it impossible to maintain 
 them. 1 
 
 II. The practicability of greatly diminishing the evil of 
 slavery, in Virginia. Are these ills incurable ? Or if they 
 can never be wholly remedied, may their disproportionate 
 progress not be checked? May they not in fact be dimin¬ 
 ished? 
 
 Before we proceed to speak of any particular plan for 
 effecting this, let us briefly recount the objects which are pro¬ 
 posed to be accomplished by any such schemes. It is expected 
 to afford sensible relief to Virginia by withdrawing her slave 
 labour, and substituting free labour in its place, by the 
 superior cheapness and efficiency of which an impulse will 
 be given to the inertness of the principles of prosperity. It 
 builds on the supposition that the State can afford the grad¬ 
 ual withdrawal of her present labour, which it has been fully 
 shown can never prove profitable to her, (though it may to 
 other States,) and that she can afford it, because she has 
 immense capabilities which could not fail to draw to her an 
 
 1 We have omitted all mention of the Protective System as a source 
 of ruin to Virginia. For the ills which we have specified, slavery seems 
 to us an adequate cause. It seems at least reasonable to attribute no 
 ills to the Tariff except such as can be shown to have arisen since 1824. 
 None of those enumerated have had so late an origin. The previous 
 disabling of Virginia by slavery, has doubtless rendered her much more 
 susceptible of injury from the errors of that system. 
 
 C 364 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 adequate supply of productive labour, of a very different 
 class, which would more than compensate her for the loss of 
 the former. It counts on the hope of rearing in Virginia and 
 inviting from abroad a yeomanry to till the large plantations 
 of the rich proprietors, but much more to give new life to her 
 husbandry, by the introduction of a large class of diligent 
 faithful small farmers not interested to impoverish the soils 
 further, but who would soon repair their present decay. It 
 cherishes the hope of creating an extensive class of mechan¬ 
 ics, and of tempting the establishment of manufactures; and, 
 by a general revivification of the habits and spirit of the 
 State, to build up cities, and render Virginia one of the most 
 flourishing, as she is perhaps the most favoured, of all the 
 Atlantic States. It is to be hoped that a fund for compensat¬ 
 ing the individual masters may be obtained, and thus that 
 value in hand may be left, at the same time that the slaves 
 are withdrawn; yet so thorough is the conviction of the ruin¬ 
 ous character (in an economical view) of exclusive slave la¬ 
 bour to Virginia, that it is believed, if the masters could be 
 tempted to a gradual deportation of the slaves, without a 
 farthing of compensation from government, there would be 
 ultimate gain, and not loss, from it. The very last cases to 
 which we would compare such gradual withdrawal, of what 
 is in fact not a source of wealth, would be the expulsion of 
 the eight hundred thousand Jews from Spain under Ferdi¬ 
 nand and Isabella, or that of nearly a million of Moors under 
 Philip III., or that of the Huguenots from France; in all 
 which cases the persons expelled carried with them greater 
 personal wealth in proportion to their number, finer skill, 
 and more thriving habits than were left behind them, besides 
 that in them, the expulsion was virtually immediate. Such 
 comparisons, to say the least, are not supported by very 
 cogent analogies. 
 
 We are fully persuaded ourselves that the emancipation of 
 the slaves, and their transportation out of the limits of the 
 State, will be the only mode of action on the subject which 
 will be beneficial either to the blacks or the whites. We, too, 
 are of opinion that a general emancipation of the slaves, on 
 
 C365 3 
 
AEIS SONIS rOCISQUE 
 
 the supposition of their remaining principally among us, 
 would engender evils, the aggregate of which would be 
 greater than all the evils of slavery, great as they unquestion¬ 
 ably are. 1 We shall therefore make no further allusion to 
 this idea. 
 
 We think that most of the arguments of the opponents of 
 all action, on the ground of its futility, err from a mistake 
 of the terms of the problem. The problem is not, with those 
 projectors who offer no compensation to the masters, to pre¬ 
 vail on Virginia to deprive herself in one day of one hundred 
 millions of property, and to expel from her borders at once 
 half a million of labouring hands. This would indeed be ruin 
 to every class of interests, and would be an impossibility in 
 terms. Still it is pretended that a gradual plan for the same 
 object, no matter how slow and how wisely directed, though 
 it operate not on the certain interests but the contingent, not 
 on the actual but the potential, no matter though, by asking 
 a small sacrifice to-day, it give ample opportunity, and put in 
 the master’s reach new means, of making the future sacri¬ 
 fices supportable, yet that it makes no difference; that it 
 implies the total wreck of that amount of capital, and the 
 loss of that amount of productive labour. Now, we humbly 
 conceive that time is of the very essence of a problem like 
 this. It is true that in any view of the case, some sacrifice 
 would be involved, but we wholly reject the idea that it 
 rises to that degree. On the other hand, when compensation 
 is talked of as possible, it is not meant by any one that there 
 is any fund in America which could purchase at once, at the 
 actual price, all the slaves in Virginia and transport them. 
 
 i While this is true of African slaves in a community of white men of 
 the European species, we are by no means persuaded that such would 
 be the necessary result in a case of masters and bondsmen of the same 
 race. Such we know is not the opinion of German statists or the experi¬ 
 ments of the last forty years in middle and eastern Europe. English 
 travellers have treated of the Teutonic and Sclavonic sections of Europe 
 (the last are not to be studied rightly except through the medium of 
 German books and the German language,) with a wrong headedness only 
 equalled by their fashion of travel-writing in the unlucky United 
 States; always except Eussel’s Tour in Germany. 
 
 [366] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 The proposition we mean to discuss is, to relieve the State of 
 the annual increase of the blacks, with the hope of benefit in 
 a double aspect: first, by keeping the black population sta¬ 
 tionary to check the increase of the evils and dangers; second, 
 to prepare in this way a method of finally extirpating the 
 great evil itself. But the pecuniary amount of this annual 
 sacrifice (supposing such sacrifice to be supported wholly by 
 her own means, or to be gratuitous) is by no means the mea¬ 
 sure of the loss to be suffered by Virginia. The loss to the 
 wealth of the whole State from the abstraction annually of 
 five or six thousand slaves, productive as they are of mis¬ 
 chiefs of an economical nature, may not be at the time very 
 great, and in a very few years may, by countervailing bene¬ 
 fits, not otherwise to be obtained, be rendered merely nominal. 
 
 For ourselves, we desire to be distinctly understood to dis¬ 
 sent from the opinion of Mr. Faulkner and others, that prop¬ 
 erty is the creature of civil society, and from all the conse¬ 
 quences deduced therefrom as means of arriving at the author¬ 
 ity to deprive the master of his slave. Nor do we consider, 
 however perfect the right of a community to abate nuisances, 
 that the right of peremptory action on this subject can well 
 be rested on that ground. Nor yet do we consider that the 
 requirement of the Bill of Bights of Virginia, that private 
 property shall not be taken for public uses without due com¬ 
 pensation, is to be evaded by the plea of public necessity: 
 the provision of the Bill of Rights (which in this case is 
 merely declaratory of the law of nature) is intended as well 
 for exigencies as for common occasions, and is meant to be 
 equally sovereign over both. Necessity gives the public a 
 right to take private property—this is undeniable; but under 
 condition of compensation. If compensation cannot be made 
 to-day, it is due to-morrow; if impossible for the present 
 generation, it is just to impose a share of it on posterity; if 
 it cannot be made in full measure, it is at least due so far as 
 it can be made. This we take to be the rationale of the opera¬ 
 tion of the right of necessity. We will tell these gentlemen, 
 that there is one ground, and only one, which could ever be 
 a logical justification (we do not speak of its moral propri- 
 
 c 367 □ 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 ety) for peremptorily depriving the master of liis slaves with¬ 
 out compensation: any such bill must make its own defence 
 by reciting, in its preamble, that the claim of property in 
 slaves is unfounded. But we, for our part, earnestly hope 
 that no one may ever think any such law expedient. 
 
 We also decline assenting to the opinion of some of the 
 abolitionists, that, though the master’s right over his living 
 slaves should be conceded, yet he has no claim of property 
 in the unborn, for the reason that there can be no property 
 in a thing not in esse. This position is wholly untenable 
 under any jurisprudence. All systems lay it down that 
 there may be a present right to a future interest: it is poten¬ 
 tial if not actual, and is many times saleable for a valuable 
 consideration. The civilians treat the increase of slaves as 
 precisely on the footing of the fruits of any other thing. Let 
 it be avowed, then, that the State has only a right to do with 
 the future increase what it has a right to do with the living 
 slaves. We do agree, however, that the public mind will be 
 much more ready to yield to a plan, which is to begin its opera¬ 
 tion with the children yet to be born, than if it began with 
 the slaves now existing. The difference between the potential 
 value of these contingent births and the value of actual 
 lives, it is superfluous to say, is very great. Mr. Jefferson 
 had the true view of it, when he said, the sacrifice would not 
 be felt to be very great, being the surrender “of an object 
 which they have never yet known or counted as part of their 
 property. ’ ’ 
 
 Having made these disclaimers, we venture to lay down 
 some principles of our own. First, it is to be assumed that no 
 human being has an abstract right to hold another in a state 
 of perpetual involuntary bondage, much less with a descend¬ 
 ing power over the posterity of that other. It is quite impos¬ 
 sible to conceive of any rational being’s holding the contrary 
 of this proposition. No two men could look each other in the 
 face and assert it. This truth being postulated, its proper 
 use is not to lay it aside and never let it be remembered again 
 in the course of an argument on the subject of abolition. Our 
 adversaries in words universally admit it as readily as we 
 
 [368] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 demand its acknowledgment. But almost the whole train of 
 their reasoning involves a total forgetfulness of it. The true 
 use of it is to introduce the element of moral duty into the 
 problem of the economist, and to furnish the motif of virtue, 
 as one of the ways and means in solving the complication of 
 difficulties, which appear to obstruct all the plans of aboli¬ 
 tion that can be proposed. While, then, we promised not to 
 claim a sacrifice to mere abstract justice, we can by no means 
 consent to its being wholly cast out of view. We hope to be 
 pardoned for adding here, that should Dr. Whately ever have 
 a clever disciple in logic in America, we trust he will favour 
 us with a treatise on the true functions of general truths in 
 moral reasoning. We really believe that there are some poli¬ 
 ticians in our country, who could be persuaded to define ab¬ 
 stract principles, to be propositions which are true in terms, 
 but false in every conceivable instance of their application! 
 Second, we admit, nay we will maintain against any adver¬ 
 sary, the innocence of slaveholding, under present circum¬ 
 stances, in Virginia. But it is with this qualification: we 
 have always held the opinion that almost every master in 
 Virginia believed it his duty to emancipate his slaves, when¬ 
 ever he w r as convinced that it could be done to the advantage 
 of the slave, and without greater injury to the master than is 
 implied in the continuance of the bondage. Such we still 
 believe to be the general sentiment there. If there be a single 
 owner who neither hopes that, in some future day, this occa¬ 
 sion may occur to him or his posterity, nor intends should 
 it occur to avail himself of it, then we must confess that we 
 cannot hold his sentiment to be entirely innocent. We defy 
 contradiction when we say that in Virginia, from the year 
 1776 down to 1832, the prevalent sentiment ever has been 
 that slavery was not entailed on the State for ever. None of 
 her economists has ever defended the abstract right over the 
 slaves, none has ever been willing to believe in the perpetuity 
 of slavery, as far as we know, except that Mr. Giles has ex¬ 
 pressed in his golden casket (mons a non movendo) certain 
 opinions which are, it must be admitted, incompatible with 
 the future possibility of renouncing the dominion over them. 
 
 C 369 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Third, we admit that slavery does not exist in Virginia in 
 any thing like the rigour which some misguided persons con¬ 
 nect with the very idea of slavery. An inhuman master is 
 rare, and cruelty to slaves is as little habitual as other crimes. 
 But if an anti-abolitionist who regards domestic slavery as 
 the optimum among good institutions, while asserting the 
 benign and sacred character of the relation of master and 
 slave as observed in Virginia, should boast that Virginia is 
 “in fact a negro raising State for other States ,” and that 
 “she produces enough for her own supply and six thousand 
 for sale,” we must say that this is a material subtraction 
 from the truth of his picture of the sanctity of the relation. 
 It would be well to recall it and thrust it out of view. 
 
 We proceed now to speak of the practicability of devising 
 some plan for the relief of the State. One main point to be 
 gained is this: that the people of Virginia be impressed with 
 a thorough conviction of the exceeding desirableness and the 
 urgent necessity of doing something promptly. The great 
 triumph will be when, on the fullest view of the present inter¬ 
 ests, moral and economical, of this generation, and of its 
 duty to the posterity who are to inherit the “fee simple” of 
 Virginia, there shall be, in the minds of a great majority, the 
 clear and unalterable opinion that slavery is not a source of 
 prosperity to her, and that it will not do for this generation 
 to attempt nothing to bring about a change. 
 
 Another great point is, that some plan be adopted with the 
 sanction of the State. It is of vastly more importance to the 
 final deliverance of the State, that a mode be selected and 
 come forth to the world with the crowning sanction of the 
 State, than it is what that mode may be. For, it is certain 
 that the public opinion, thus solemnly announced, will be an 
 instrument for the execution of the plan, the power of which 
 we cannot exaggerate to ourselves. The public once predis¬ 
 posed to its success, half the task is done. This brings us at 
 once to the consideration of the first among our ways and 
 means for diminishing the evils of slavery: the moral ele¬ 
 ments which will be at work for its accomplishment. These 
 elements are powers as well known in political economy as 
 
 [370: 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 others which seem more substantial. We utterly protest 
 against this question being argued as if the emancipation 
 were in fact a mere money speculation, and the success of the 
 adopted plan were to rise and fall according as its pecuniary 
 temptations were greater or less than those from some other 
 accidental quarter—as if there were no other reasons likely 
 to have the slightest effect on the master, but such as went to 
 show that he was thereby to make a good bargain, so far as 
 his poor, circumscribed, present and personal interest was 
 concerned. It will be monstrous indeed, if, in a problem 
 like the present, of which the very terms are instinct with 
 moral forces, a calculator should leave wholly out of his esti¬ 
 mate of means of working it, the value of a little virtue, a 
 slight sense of justice, and a grain of common honesty, as 
 agents. It is most true that we too propose to advance the 
 interests of those who now hold slaves, and believe that this 
 will be effectually done by some radical plan of emancipa¬ 
 tion : but it is by the help of the moral considerations that 
 the masters must be led to look on their higher and ultimate 
 interests as worthy of some sacrifice of present inferior inter¬ 
 ests. We readily assent to the opinion that the enthusiasm 
 of abstract virtue is not the true temper in which a great 
 work, like the present, should be undertaken, or carried on; 
 and we cannot more distinctly express our views on the mat¬ 
 ter, than by citing the following passage from the African 
 Repository of September 1827: 
 
 “This is not the age of enthusiasm : far from it. Too large 
 a part of the talent of the age is devoted to caricature, to 
 ridicule; and what is more, too large a part of the good sense 
 and good learning of the day is in the hands of those who 
 look for the ludicrous part of every plan, by much too large 
 to permit the public mind to be heated with unnecessary zeal, 
 even in the best cause, or to uphold for a long time any grave 
 farce. It is the age of practical reason, of great moral truths 
 rigidly established by cool practical experiment, the age 
 which has relieved human nature from the apprehension that 
 any of the baneful evils in society are sealed and fated on us 
 by our own imbecility, by proofs which are intended for the 
 
 IT371] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 most plodding, the most determined enemies of novelty. En¬ 
 thusiasm is not fit to be trusted with any great scheme, un¬ 
 steady, blind, and undiscriminating as it is. The most 
 anxious zealot is little wise w T lio would not rather trust his 
 cherished plans to that state of devotion to principle so 
 naturally rising up in this age, which, tempered by prudence 
 and restrained by fear of the charge of absurdity, takes its 
 course calm, collected, and like the cloud of the poet, ‘ movetli 
 altogether, if it move at all. ’ Public opinion and public feel¬ 
 ing, when thus informed, are indeed the voice of God. ’ ’ 
 
 But we must be understood to be far from deeming lightly 
 of the power of philanthropy. A senator from South Carolina 
 once said with much piquancy, that “benevolence somehow 
 was rather an unsuccessful adventure in the south. ’ ’ There, 
 as elsewhere, avarice and ambition seem to come of a healthier 
 stock, and last their day and generation: but do not let us 
 libel poor nature in the south so scandalously as to suppose 
 that when the disinterested feelings are in question, “there 
 is no throb under the left breast,” as Persius has it. It was 
 hitherto said that avarice has been more successfully pelted 
 by the satirists than any other passion; but we doubt if phi¬ 
 lanthropy has not had quite a sufficient share of -worrying. 
 We do not love to see any one succeed in discrediting all reli¬ 
 ance on philanthropy. Whether philanthropy has ever 
 proved competent to carry through, unassisted, any one great 
 work, matters very little: it is happily the fact that it rarely 
 fails of commanding a thousand auxiliary interests to lend 
 it subsidy. But among the successful agents in any under¬ 
 taking for ameliorating the condition of human life, one of 
 the chief, and that which could least be spared, will always, 
 as hitherto, prove to be those feelings which are founded 
 in sympathy for others, and in a sense of duty. “Many,” 
 says an English moralist with great force, “are the modes 
 of evil—many the scenes of human suffering; but if the gen¬ 
 eral condition of man is ever to be ameliorated, it can only be 
 through the medium of belief in human virtue.” But even 
 suppose that all change in the world is to be effected merely by 
 the triumph of one sort of interest or another. What then? 
 
 C372 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 We need but ask of our theorists of human nature, that we be 
 permitted to believe that man’s selfishness is distinguished 
 from that of the brutes by a power of large discourse in his 
 calculations; that he is capable of balancing a contingent 
 interest against one certain, a future interest against a pres¬ 
 ent; that he is capable of weighing one species of valuable 
 interest, such as money, against another such as the acquisi¬ 
 tion of moral habits which would prove in their turn more 
 profitable; that he is capable of the conception that indi¬ 
 vidual interest is often best promoted by generosity to one’s 
 country; and that it is one of the commonest of human pro¬ 
 pensities to be prodigal of wealth, of ease, and of life, for the 
 welfare or the honour of one’s country, so that the age which 
 is to come after may not receive an inheritance profaned by 
 hereditary disgrace. Give us these capacities in human na¬ 
 ture, and upon them we will build you up a hope for the 
 noblest undertakings. But were we to suppose a large body 
 of men elevated to this enlightened pitch of self-interest, and 
 united for some great purpose, we much fear that we should 
 be parasitical enough to offer them the adulation of ascribing 
 to them a spirit a little more disembodied than selfishness— 
 “of the earth, earthy.” If it be meant to assert, that the 
 immediate and personal interests are the only safe reliances 
 in any problem of human action, we boldly deny the asser¬ 
 tion. Remote, prospective interests have often been the domi¬ 
 nant motives over a whole nation. But the labours of mere 
 philanthropy have been, in fact, invaluable, and when com¬ 
 bined with the holy impulse of conscience, it has proved in 
 our own day, that it is capable of success in enterprises of 
 the vastest scope, and beset with the most obstinate diffi¬ 
 culties. 
 
 By the aid of these moral elements, we are able to dissipate 
 the apprehension which has been expressed by some, lest, even 
 if the number of five or six thousand were annually deported, 
 it should be found that the operation proved wholly nuga¬ 
 tory, under the stimulated influence of the spring of popu¬ 
 lation. Some have imagined, that, if government were pos¬ 
 sessed of means to compensate the masters, at the present 
 
 C 373 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 average price of slaves, the desire of government to purchase 
 would elevate the price beyond the natural value, and that 
 consequently the raising of them would become an object of 
 primary importance throughout the State, thus inducing a 
 general resort to every means of rendering the race more 
 prolific. It might be answered, first, that to those who know 
 the state of things in this respect in Virginia, it would seem 
 not easy, even for Euler himself, to imagine more liberal en¬ 
 couragement than is at present afforded to the blacks. Be¬ 
 sides, it by no means appears that the best way to succeed in 
 giving a perfect elasticity (a property in practical mechanics 
 hitherto wanting) to this delicate spring, would be to devise 
 special plans for its improvement. Any increased propensity 
 to promiscuous intercourse would of course not add very 
 much to the production. But all this objection is futile in the 
 extreme. If the day is ever to arrive when a bill is to pass the 
 Virginia Legislature for the purchase and deportation of the 
 annual surplus, it will naturally be an expression of the senti¬ 
 ments of the State, that slavery is an evil to the common¬ 
 wealth. No one will thank the Legislature for passing a bill 
 through the forms under favour of accidental circumstances, 
 whereby the public sentiment is not embodied, and a large 
 majority of the citizens pledged to a hearty co-operation in 
 its execution. Surely we must be pardoned for saying that 
 we shall on no account believe that every scheme which in¬ 
 genious cupidity can contrive to render its operation nuga¬ 
 tory, will be unscrupulously resorted to throughout the State. 
 That some slaveholders would avail themselves of the most 
 immoral means of encouraging the spring of population, and 
 thus pro tanto thwart the law, may of course be expected, 
 but never that such shifts would be the general resort. 1 It is 
 
 1 It is no reply to this to say that such an abolition bill will only pass 
 by being forced on eastern Virginia by the valley and western Virginia. 
 The whole argument assumes that the State has a fair compensation to 
 offer to the master; for the quickening of the spring is to be occasioned 
 by a great market demand. When compensation becomes possible, the 
 east will be as willing to yield as the west. Moreover, in any form of 
 abolition, it is a woful delusion to suppose that the parties for and 
 
 [374H 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 superfluous to add, that such a moral phenomenon would 
 itself point out the remedy, which would be found in a dif¬ 
 ferent tone of legislation. 
 
 While we are on this head, (the probability of such a law’s 
 proving nugatory,) we may notice another objection. It has 
 been said, as we have already noticed, that Virginia produces 
 enough slaves for her own supply, and six thousand for sale. 
 It may be subjoined to that statement, that, if motives of 
 humanity did not prevent many masters from selling negroes 
 who could most advantageously be spared, she would be able 
 to sell five times that number, were there purchasers for them. 
 Now, suppose the government of Virginia enters the slave 
 market resolved to purchase six thousand for emancipation 
 and deportation, is it not evident, they say, that it must 
 overbid the southern slave trader, and thus take the very 
 slaves who would have gone to the south? Not in the least 
 likely. The average estimate of $200 per head, has been made 
 under the stimulus of a large demand from the south, as 
 great as it is ever likely to be hereafter, (doubtless greater,) 
 and of the competition of slave traders in every parish. The 
 price of slaves in Virginia has always been regulated more 
 by foreign demand (of late years, entirely regulated by it) 
 than by the home value. In this situation of things, if a new 
 buyer were to come into the market (we blush to use these 
 words as applied to the operation of the government under 
 the beneficent law of which we are speaking) resolved to buy 
 at any cost every slave whom any owner might be desirous 
 of selling, it is true that the slaves who would else have been 
 sent to the south, would, among the rest, fall into his hands. 
 But were our new buyer only resolved to purchase as many as 
 six thousand, and the southern traders were desirous of buy¬ 
 ing six thousand more, it would only be for the former to wait 
 till the demand of the latter was supplied, and then buy his 
 own number; for, as soon as the inducement of the not in- 
 
 against the movement will be all the non-slaveholders on the one side, 
 and all the slaveholders on the other. Did we not think it indecent to 
 speak of divisions in the State, we would say we have entire reliance on 
 middle Virginia, as well as the valley and the west. 
 
 C375] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 human destination of the slaves, who might be sold to the 
 new buyer, had been brought into play, we dare say that Vir¬ 
 ginia would willingly, as she well could, spare twelve thou¬ 
 sand per annum at the same price. This shows at once, that 
 as long as the demand exists in the south, the due quota can 
 be annually furnished from Virginia, and that this drain for 
 the relief of Virginia will not in this way be stopped. Thus 
 much to show that putting money into the hands of the State, 
 to purchase from willing masters, would not at least prove 
 nugatory by merely enabling the State—actum agere—to buy 
 the very slaves, none other, who would otherwise have de¬ 
 parted from the State. The fund will manifestly act as 
 auxiliary to the operations of the southern traders, and in the 
 precise measure of its magnitude will extend additional re¬ 
 lief to the overburdened State. It is not irrational to sup¬ 
 pose, if the State were to fix a fair maximum price, beyond 
 which it would not buy, that it would find many more slaves 
 offered at that price than it could yearly take, and thus mas¬ 
 ters would come to offer them at even lower than the average 
 price. Should, unhappily for Virginia, (for however morti¬ 
 fying it is, this outlet is her only safety valve at present) the 
 southern markets ever be closed by the legislation of the 
 southern States, then we may indeed thank the supposed 
 fund for supplying their place. If no substitute for that 
 outlet be then found, the present sources of danger and ruin 
 are frightfully increased indeed! 
 
 We confess that we count largely on the operation of the 
 moral elements, to induce many masters to surrender their 
 slaves voluntarily and gratuitously, if the State would pro¬ 
 vide the means of colonizing them out of the United States. 
 In the year 1816, when slave labour was infinitely more 
 profitable than it is now, as all know from the inflated prices 
 of tobacco, &c., &e., Mr. Randolph of Roanoke, who is, 
 perhaps, better qualified to speak for the slaveholders of Vir¬ 
 ginia than any other man, said: “if a place could be pro¬ 
 vided for their reception and a mode of sending them hence, 
 there were hundreds, nay thousands, who would by manu¬ 
 mitting their slaves, relieve themselves from the cares atten- 
 
 C 376 ^ 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 dant on their possession.” We repeat most emphatically 
 the declaration of General Brodnax, and add that there can 
 be no mistake in asserting that “there would be again an¬ 
 other class, (he had already heard of many) while they could 
 not afford to sacrifice the entire value of their slaves, would 
 cheerfully compromise with the State for half of their 
 value.” 
 
 It is not denied by us, too, that the adoption of some plan 
 with the sanction of the State will have the moral effect (not 
 to excite a feeling of insecurity and apprehension as to this 
 kind of property, and so incline the owners to dispose of it 
 at a loss) —but to weaken the almost exclusive attachment 
 of the master to this species of property, to make him cast 
 about for means of making his other resources more avail¬ 
 able, and to set him upon certain broad and liberal calcula¬ 
 tions, whereby he may satisfy himself that more prosperous 
 and more valuable interests may be had in exchange for this 
 property. In the beginning, and for several years, there 
 would, we do not doubt, be as many furnished for transporta¬ 
 tion (exclusive of the present free blacks) as would be 
 wanted, without any cost for their freedom; and after the 
 experiment of colonizing a large number annually is fairly 
 tried with success, then we would draw to an almost unlim¬ 
 ited amount on this bank of humanity without fear of pro¬ 
 test. 
 
 Will any one say that the inefficiency of moral restraints 
 to check commercial cupidity, is shown in the impossibility 
 of checking the African slave trade? We reply, that we 
 know that this impossibility was urged as one of the best 
 reasons against its prohibition by laws in England and other 
 countries; but that it was clearly wise nevertheless to pro¬ 
 hibit it, for the following if for no other reason: the law 
 would effectually prevent all men who were not desperately 
 depraved from lending their future countenance to it. It is 
 known that men like the excellent Mr. Newton of Olney were 
 owners of slave ships—the public voice of Christian England 
 once expressed, such men and all others with a single spark 
 of virtue, abjured it for ever, and left it to pirates alone. 
 
 C 377 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Besides, even as to this example, we are content to say, that 
 in America, with a coast the most tempting in the world to 
 smugglers, yet since 1808 we are not aware that attempts 
 have been made to violate the laws against the introduction 
 of slaves from Africa. Indeed we hope that Edwards’s appre¬ 
 hension, that their importation into the West Indies could 
 never be stopped, has not proved altogether just as to the 
 British possessions. 
 
 But it is time to proceed to the other means, on which we 
 rely, for the liberation of Virginia from her exigency, and in 
 so doing to unfold more distinctly what practicable mode of 
 action there is. Once for all, we declare that we have, how¬ 
 ever, no confidence in any plan except under condition that 
 it be accompanied with the public favour: if the people of 
 Virginia really desire relief from their slaves, we believe most 
 solemnly that it can be obtained without ruinous conse¬ 
 quences to themselves. Touching the specific project of Mr. 
 T. J. Randolph, we refer to what we have already cursorily 
 said, both as to the reasoning by which some have supported 
 it, and as to the merit of the conception of beginning with 
 the after born. We believe that means may be found to colo¬ 
 nize the annual surplus of the slaves of Virginia, and to pur¬ 
 chase such a portion of that surplus as it may be necessary 
 to purchase. 
 
 The annual increase of slaves in Virginia (leaving out of 
 view the 6000 supposed to be taken off to the southern mar¬ 
 kets) is less than 5000. If this number of slaves be valued at 
 the average of 200 dollars per head, the sum necessary to 
 purchase them will be about a million of dollars. To defray 
 the expense of their deportation to Africa and subsistence 
 there for some months will, on the satisfactory calculation of 
 Mr. Mathew Carey, to which we must refer, at 25 dollars per 
 head for adults and children, require 125,000 dollars—add 
 to which the cost of deportation of 1200 free blacks (their 
 annual increase,) 30,000 dollars, and we have the sum of 
 150,000 dollars. That the State of Virginia has no possible 
 means of purchasing 5000 slaves per annum is obvious. 
 But were the entire cost that of transportation only, 
 
 [ 378 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 150,000 dollars, we should insist that the Legislature take 
 it into serious consideration how far that expense ex¬ 
 ceeds its means. In any event, our adversaries will allow 
 us to set down the item of transportation to the charge of the 
 State: if this be all, it is to offer no insurmountable embar¬ 
 rassment. Perhaps it may be thought best to deport the free 
 negroes first, and then the whole expense is that of transpor¬ 
 tation. Where, however, shall we find that greater fund 
 which will presently be needed for the purchase of the sur¬ 
 plus of the slaves, and before long for the purchase of a part 
 of the capital number ? There is not far off a fund to which 
 we believe our eyes may be turned. We have come to the 
 conclusion that such a fund is the proceeds of the public 
 lands in the Treasury of the General Government; and we 
 do now invite the friends of the removal and colonization of 
 the negroes to fix hereafter their thoughts and to press their 
 pretensions on this fund. The annual income to government 
 from the public lands is now estimated at three millions. Let 
 one-third of this amount be demanded for this object, to be 
 under the entire management of the State authorities. 
 
 In coincidence with the known opinion of Virginia, we are 
 not walling to demand a simple appropriation of money from 
 Congress. But we are inclined to think, that an appropria¬ 
 tion from the receipts of the public lands would not be liable 
 to the constitutional objection, which would forbid a grant 
 of money raised by taxes. The public lands belong to the 
 United States in absolute ownership; as to that part of the 
 public domain obtained by cession from the States them¬ 
 selves, it wall be found that the Acts of Cession uniformly 
 declare that the territory is given “as a common fund for 
 the use and benefit” of the United States. Such are the 
 words of the Acts of Virginia, New-Tork, and Georgia. The 
 grants of the two former were made during the time of the 
 old Confederation; of the latter, subsequently. In the Con¬ 
 stitution of the United States it is provided that “Congress 
 shall have power to dispose of and make all needful rules 
 and regulations respecting the territory or other property 
 belonging to the United States.” This certainly seems to 
 
 [ 379 ] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 import a complete right to grant the public lands, under the 
 sole condition that it shall be faithfully and bona fide for the 
 common use and benefit. And we are free to confess, that we 
 should regard the temporary appropriation of the proceeds of 
 the public lands, to one embodied purpose that might be said 
 to come lap to the definition ‘ ‘ for the common use and benefit ’ ’ 
 of all the States, as a more faithful execution of the condi¬ 
 tion, than the distribution of the same to the States for 
 application to any purpose in their discretion. The lands 
 have hitherto been pledged for the public debt, but are soon 
 to be released. It will then remain a question, whether the 
 removal of the negroes deserves to be termed a measure de¬ 
 manded for the common benefit of the United States? We 
 have an unfeigned respect for constitutional scruples, but we 
 are not ambitious ourselves of entertaining more scruples 
 than Mr. Madison. Let us hear then what that greatest liv¬ 
 ing authority says upon the subject, in his letter to Mr. 
 Gurley, of December last:— 
 
 ‘ ‘ In contemplating the pecuniary resources needed for the 
 removal of such a number to so great a distance, my thoughts 
 and hopes have been long turned to the rich fund presented 
 in the western lands of the nation, which will soon entirely 
 cease to be under a pledge for another object. The great one 
 in question is truly of a national character, and it is known 
 that distinguished patriots not dwelling in slave-holding 
 States have viewed the object in that light, and would be 
 ivilling to let the national domain be a resource in effecting it. 
 Should it be remarked that the States, though all may be 
 interested in relieving our country from the coloured popula¬ 
 tion, are not equally so; it is but fair to recollect, that the 
 sections most to be benefited are those whose cessions created 
 the fund to be disposed of. I am aware of the constitutional 
 obstacle which has presented itself; but if the general will 
 should be reconciled to an application of the territorial fund 
 to the removal of the coloured population, a grant to Con¬ 
 gress of the necessary authority could be carried, with little 
 delay, through the forms of the Constitution.” 
 
 Before any one condemns us for looseness of construction 
 
 £380 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 of the Constitution, we beg further that he will read Mr. 
 Jefferson’s letter to Mr. Sparks, (vol. iv. p. 388-391.) : we 
 adopt all the qualifications therein mentioned. 
 
 Judge Marshall most properly suggests that the objection, 
 in a political view, to the application of this ample fund, is 
 very much lessened, in his estimation, by the fact that our 
 lands are becoming an object for which the States are to 
 scramble, and which threatens to sow the seeds of discord 
 among us, instead of being what they might be—a source of 
 national wealth. 
 
 A great part of the proceeds of the public domain once ap¬ 
 propriated to this object, there would soon be found no insur¬ 
 mountable difficulty in the removal of the necessary number 
 in Virginia. But it is said that were Congress disposed to 
 give a million annually for the specific object of the removal 
 of the slaves, it would feel bound to bestow it proportionally 
 on all the slaveholding States, or if all be not inclined to re¬ 
 ceive it, then on those which would be. We answer, that, if 
 Congress should consent to pledge a certain share of the 
 revenue from the lands for the purchase and removal (under 
 the laws of the States) of the slaves of the United States, 
 we have no doubt it would be thought wise to begin w r ith the 
 effectual relief of the greatest sufferer first. A minute’s 
 attention to the following statement of General Brodnax will 
 show the immense claims of Virginia. 
 
 “The State of Virginia contains, by the last census, less 
 than one fifteenth part of the whole white population of the 
 United States; it contains more than one seventh of the free 
 negroes; and it possesses between a fourth and a fifth of all 
 the slaves in the Union. 
 
 “Virginia has a greater number of slaves than any other 
 State in the Union—and more than Louisiana, Mississippi, 
 Alabama and Tennessee, all put together; and more than 
 four times as many as either of them. Louisiana and South 
 Carolina are the only States in which the slaves are more 
 numerous than the white population; and Virginia has more 
 slaves, without estimating her great and unfortunate propor¬ 
 tion of free persons of colour, than both these States put 
 
 C 381 U 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 together. Nay, one half of the State, that which lies on the 
 east of the Blue Ridge of Mountains, itself contains nearly as 
 many. ’ ’ 
 
 But if Congress should decline to grant from this fund for 
 the specific purpose of the removal of the blacks, and prefer 
 to distribute among the States the portion of money severally 
 assignable to them, let such portion as would fall to Virginia 
 be earnestly claimed of the Legislature for this object. The 
 annual receipt of between two and three hundred thousand 
 dollars, which Mr. Clay’s bill (limited to five years’ duration) 
 would assign to her, would not be adequate for compensating 
 masters on the foregoing plan, but it might suffice for doing 
 an immense deal of good on the plan in Mr. Jefferson’s letter 
 to Mr. Sparks, the purchase of the children at a small but 
 just price, the children to be disposed of either according to 
 the particulars of that plan, or under any other plan which 
 might be speedier, and less burdensome to the persons to be 
 charged with rearing them. 
 
 We believe that before half a million of blacks were con¬ 
 veyed to Africa, there would not remain a master obstinately 
 resolved to retain his slaves, except in the most southern and 
 south-western States, where slave labour is next to essential 
 (we hope not absolutely) for the cultivation of the good 
 lands! 
 
 We exhort the people of Virginia then, first to seek aid 
 from their own Legislature to the extent it can be afforded; 
 second, to insist on the passage of permanent laws going as 
 far in the subject as public opinion will justify; and third, 
 to assert their claims to a share of the proceeds of the public 
 lands. Let it not, by her fastidiousness, be made true, that 
 she ceded an empire to the General Government, under a 
 virtual condition that she alone was to derive no benefit 
 from it. 
 
 Suppose then means to be thus found to defray the 
 expense of emancipating and transporting them to some 
 other country, the next question is, where a suitable asylum 
 may be found to which to convey them? We answer, that 
 Africa affords the most eligible situation for such an asylum, 
 
 H 382 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 and that we hope Virginia would avail herself of the noble 
 beginning which has been made by the American Coloniza¬ 
 tion Society at Liberia. We have thus reached our third 
 division, in which we design to say, 
 
 III. A few preliminary xvords on the position of the 
 Colonization Society with reference to the Virginia question, 
 and then to show the possibility of finding a refuge for the 
 blacks in Africa. 
 
 Justice to the Society demands that it should be distinctly 
 stated, that it has no share whatever in the abolition ques¬ 
 tion. Its whole sphere of operations is voluntary and peace¬ 
 ful ; it is no propagandist of agitating opinions. It has its 
 own private, independent course marked out, which it will 
 pursue, though the abolition of slavery should never be men¬ 
 tioned again in any legislature. Let no adversary of aboli¬ 
 tion charge on it the odium (since with some it is odium) 
 of that discussion any where. It has confined itself in all 
 sincerity to the removal of free persons of colour (who may 
 desire the same) to Africa, and to the preparation of means 
 for the reception there of such slaves as might be manumitted 
 by their masters under the laws of the States. Except by 
 the peaceful and modest persuasive of the practicability of 
 its scheme, (now made manifest,) and the certainty of its 
 easy adaptation to the largest possible demand, it has not 
 had, and never will have any agency in creating an inclina¬ 
 tion to abolition. All such action, too, will plainly pass far 
 beyond the limits of the Society’s views. Indeed, in the 
 midst of all the doubts and fears encompassing that subject, 
 how naturally might both of the parties which contest it, 
 turn their thoughts to that Society! How soothing after the 
 agitation of the momentous opinions which separate them 
 from each other, is the invitation to peaceful concert which 
 it holds out to them! In the plan of this Society they can 
 both find large room for the exercise of the patriotism they 
 both boast. It may claim the ardent co-operation of persons 
 of both opinions on the subject of abolition, without expect¬ 
 ing those of either opinion to violate in the least their own 
 consistency. Popular writers in South Carolina formerly 
 
 L 383 2 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 declared that the Society would become the nucleus for all 
 the mischievous incendiaries through the United States— 
 now, it can with ease be demonstrated, that on a subject 
 about which the public mind neither can, nor will be in¬ 
 different, the only absolutely certain security against intem¬ 
 perance and rashness, is to be found in the scheme of that 
 Society. The incendiaries find it not at all suited to their 
 taste. The Society was once denounced as hostile to the 
 interests of the slave-holding States, and made of med¬ 
 dling theorists ignorant of the evil they sought to remedy:— 
 now, it begins to be noted that it originated out of the 
 passage, at different periods, of resolutions by the Virginia 
 Legislature, projecting the identical scheme which the So¬ 
 ciety was established to promote. Formerly it was declared 
 that the Society tampered with the public safety: what is 
 the fact? Why that the very first mention of an American 
 colony of emancipated negroes in Africa, was made in the 
 Virginia Assembly, at a date which we beg every one to 
 notice—it was in 1801. A plan for the acquisition of lands 
 in Africa, for this purpose, was the result of the anxious 
 secret sessions of the Assembly immediately subsequent to 
 the rebellion of Gabriel! In a word, it may be made mani¬ 
 fest, that it is not only a safe, a wise, a practicable scheme, 
 but that it was originally the deliberate policy of slavehold¬ 
 ers, and is peculiarly fitted as a relief from exigencies of an 
 alarming nature. Give it then but the right to impute to 
 any one a single sentiment of patriotism in the range of the 
 subject of slavery; give it but a concession of one right idea 
 in that man’s reasoning on the probable future career of 
 Virginia, and the Society may plant the foot of its rhetoric 
 and its logic on these, so as to move the whole mass of his 
 sentiments and opinions into subjection to itself. 
 
 The history of the first suggestions about the expediency 
 of a colony on the coast of Africa is briefly told. In the last 
 century it was distinctly proposed by several individuals, 
 and was even talked of, it is believed, in the Virginia As¬ 
 sembly. But its chief events are the resolutions of the ses¬ 
 sions of that body in 1801-3, when the governor was desired 
 
 C384n 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 to open a correspondence with the president, on the means of 
 finding an asylum in the European colonies already estab¬ 
 lished, or of purchasing a suitable territory; and the passage 
 of similar resolutions in 1816, the correspondence under the 
 former having proved fruitless. The direct object of these 
 two attempts was the establishment of a colony under the 
 proprietorship and dominion of Virginia, or of the United 
 States. It was after this last attempt that it was suggested 
 by certain philanthropists, among whom Dr. Finley and Mr. 
 Caldwell were most conspicuous, that the benevolent project 
 would take a more vigorous beginning, and succeed better 
 under the control of a private society, and thereupon the 
 present Society was instituted at Washington, as the more 
 convenient agent in the prosecution of the conception of the 
 Virginia Assembly. 
 
 The fixed object of the labours of the Society was at once 
 declared to be the removal to Africa of the free blacks, with 
 their own consent, and of such blacks, then slaves, as might 
 after that time be set free, under the laws of the States. 
 Were there no other object in view but the providing a for¬ 
 eign place of refuge for the existing class of free negroes, 
 we are sure that that of itself would be found an end quite 
 worthy of the labours of a Society spread over the whole 
 country; and this chiefly as a measure of police. So per¬ 
 nicious a class, (we admit many honourable exceptions), the 
 source of so much vice and the prey of so much misery, so 
 beset with an inaptitude to habits of virtue, so tempted to 
 petty misdemeanors and so subject to be dragged into crime; 
 a class so seemingly bom for the rolls of vagrancy and the 
 calendar of felonies, exists no where perhaps in the world. 
 No wise government can, for a moment, regard the existence 
 of such a class without uneasiness. We admit that the 
 whites are under a sacred duty to them: one of two things 
 must be done. Either their condition must be radically 
 changed, and bettered, by the grant of such privileges in this 
 country as may induce them to become useful citizens, or 
 they must be prevailed on to accept elsewhere a home under 
 a sky of more friendly influences. That the whites in the 
 
 n385U 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 slave-holding states should ever consent to grant them here 
 enough privileges to be a sufficient temptation to them to 
 reform the character of their caste, is wholly improbable and 
 unreasonable. It is true that in the domestic police of the 
 West Indies, where they are highly privileged, it is thought 
 they serve as a barrier class between the masters and slaves, 
 to protect the masters; hut were we to give a list of their 
 privileges there, it would go nigh to create a revulsion in the 
 mind of the reader from all the humanity he at present feels 
 towards the caste. The approach to equal rights with the 
 whites, in some of the non-slaveholding States, has indis¬ 
 putably made them a more pestilent population in those 
 States, than elsewhere. In a memorial prepared by the 
 Pennsylvania Colonization Society and presented to the Leg¬ 
 islature of that State three or four years ago, (referred to in 
 an earlier number of this journal,) it is stated that of the 
 whole population of Pennsylvania, then estimated at 1,200,- 
 000, about 40,000 or one thirtieth are people of colour; and 
 the following statement taken from the records of the State 
 Penitentiary is then given: “in 1826, of 296 convicted and 
 brought to the Philadelphia prison, 117 were coloured: being 
 nearly in the ratio of 3 to 7. Had the number of coloured 
 convicts been proportional to the coloured population of the 
 State, there would have been but 6 instead of 117. The 
 average of the last seven years proves a similar dispropor¬ 
 tion.” Nothing short of complete citizenship can ever elevate 
 them: but the danger of the example to our slaves is an in¬ 
 superable barrier to this in the slave-holding States, and 
 the strong disgust of nature every where absolutely forbids 
 the thought in America. Elsewhere then, they must seek the 
 advancement of their degraded condition. Their emigration 
 from one State to another, already restricted, may one day 
 be forbidden, and it is almost to be hoped it may. When 
 once transferred to another land where their freedom is no 
 longer maimed and their privilege no longer ineffectual, 
 they prove as fair subjects of moral and social discipline as 
 the citizens of any government. 
 
 There is however another branch of the Society’s plan. 
 
 £386 3 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 Every one will observe bow benignant and void of offence 
 this first part of it is. The second, while it is of vaster com¬ 
 pass, is equally harmless. It next fixes its view on such slaves 
 as may be voluntarily manumitted by their masters under 
 the temptation of an opportunity to have them removed out 
 of the United States, and most munificently provided for, 
 on another soil. We think the Society is most deeply in¬ 
 debted to Mr. Archer, for the support he lent it last winter, 
 at its anniversary meeting. He may rest assured that he 
 has not mistaken the neutral character of the Society in the 
 midst of the troubled opinions of the times: that it attacks no 
 man’s conventional rights, and tramples on no pardonable 
 prejudices. It waits with patience the slow ripening of 
 public opinion; it prepares with quiet diligence a reservoir 
 for the voluntary outpourings of individual patriotism, and 
 gathers up the random impulses of States and citizens into 
 a concentrated impetus. Legislatures may speak with the 
 power of law, and statesmen may by their courageous 
 eloquence hurry on the day of relief, but the most benign 
 agent in behalf of master and slave will be acknowledged to 
 be the unobtrusive Colonization Society, to which they will 
 all turn in the moment of their success. In the end, that 
 Institution shall have the benedictions of all, for it will have 
 shown that “they also serve, who only stand and wait.” 
 Such (we have thought necessary to say) is the position of 
 the Society with reference to the abolition question. It now 
 only remains to see whether Virginia can avail herself of the 
 labours of the Society. The following details are, of course, 
 familiar to every one who has given much attention to the 
 reports of the Society; but in the hope that these pages may 
 meet the eye of some who are yet unacquainted with the 
 facts, we shall make a simple recital of some of them. 
 
 We will suppose every one persuaded that some point on 
 the African coast is the best position for an asylum for the 
 emancipated blacks. We will suppose too, that the appro¬ 
 priateness of our making to Africa herself a tribute of the 
 reparation which we design to render to humanity, is not 
 merely a fanciful consideration. Although we are ready to 
 
 C3873 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 admit that, should it seem advisable hereafter, other places 
 in Africa or America may also be selected for colonizing 
 them, we presume the policy of planting the first and largest 
 colony in Africa will be conceded. There it will be distant 
 enough (as it should be) from all possibility of intrusion 
 from the whites; there it need neither dread the jealousy of 
 civilized governments, nor can it become itself, when grown 
 to be a powerful nation, in any manner dangerous to the 
 peace of the United States. To combine these qualities, we 
 think no settlement of blacks can be planted any where at 
 less expense, or in a happier position than at Liberia. 
 
 The colony of Liberia extends about two hundred and 
 eighty miles along the coast, and from twenty to thirty in¬ 
 land. It lies between 4° 30' and 7° north latitude. This 
 proximity to the equator by no means subjects it to a torrid 
 climate; on the contrary, the climate is mild and uniform, 
 the thermometer never being lower than 68°, nor higher than 
 88°, save perhaps one day in the season, when it has been 
 known to rise to 91°. To the health of the colony the man¬ 
 agers have directed their chief thoughts, and they express 
 confidently the opinion that people of colour from most of the 
 southern States will experience no serious injury from the 
 African climate, and that such persons from any section of 
 the United States will soon be able to settle on the elevated 
 lands of the interior, where there exist, it is believed, no 
 special causes of disease. The process of acclimation is 
 gentle, fatal to comparatively few. The character of that 
 climate, we are assured by those who know it best, is not well 
 understood in other countries. Fatal as it may be to whites, 
 its inhabitants are as robust, as healthy, as longlived to say 
 the least, as those of any other country. Nothing like an 
 epidemic has ever appeared in Liberia, nor is it learned from 
 the natives that the calamity of a sweeping sickness ever yet 
 visited this part of the continent. The managers have of late 
 sent out experienced physicians, supplies of medicines, ap¬ 
 propriated a fund for the erection of a hospital, and taken 
 every measure which experience has suggested. The resi¬ 
 dents of Liberia declare that ‘ ‘ a more fertile soil, and a more 
 
 C388;] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 productive country, so far as it is cultivated, there is not on 
 the face of the earth. Its hills and plains are covered with 
 a verdure that never fades: the productions of nature keep 
 on in their growth through all the seasons of the year. Even 
 the natives of the country, almost without farming utensils, 
 without skill and with very little labour, make more grain 
 and vegetables than they can consume, and often more than 
 they can sell.” All the best products of the tropics, with 
 many others which are favourites in temperate countries, 
 flourish either spontaneously or under moderate labour. 
 From the testimony of Englishmen we are assured that ‘ ‘ the 
 character of these industrious colonists is exceedingly cor¬ 
 rect and moral; their minds strongly impressed with religious 
 feelings; their manners serious and decorous, and their do¬ 
 mestic habits remarkably neat and comfortable.” A sum 
 of money has recently been given by a gentleman of New- 
 York to found a high school there. A distinguished British 
 naval officer has recently published his conviction, that the 
 success which has attended the American colony in Africa 
 is a complete proof that such experiments are not of a fanci¬ 
 ful, or impracticable nature. Already are there about 2400 
 inhabitants of Liberia, of whom, (we have often been assured 
 by voyagers thither,) not one repines at his condition, or 
 would consent to return to live in America. Preparations 
 are on foot for a vastly increased body of settlers. It may 
 be satisfactory to compare the planting of Liberia with that 
 of Jamestown. In the year 1624, after more than 150,000 
 pounds sterling had been expended, and more than 9000 per¬ 
 sons had been sent from England, its population did not 
 exceed 1800 persons. From tables given in Mr. Jefferson’s 
 Notes, it appears that, after several fluctuations, sometimes 
 rising as high as 400 and again sinking as low as 60, the 
 whole number in 1618 (the eleventh year of the settlement) 
 was only 600. So far then as the trial of the experiment of 
 a negro colony was concerned, this is success—the most bril¬ 
 liant success. Those who were fearful of it from the analogy 
 of the failure of Sierra Leone (a most remarkable instance 
 certainly in the history of British enterprise, which, above 
 
 C389] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 all things, has succeeded in planting foreign colonies) may 
 now dismiss all fear. The American negro, unchanged by 
 the residence of generations in America, has proved that in 
 the native latitude of his ancestors he is for the first time at 
 home, and, in the words of the same British officer, “the 
 complete success of this colony is a proof that negroes are, 
 by proper care and attention, as susceptible of the habits of 
 industry and the improvements of social life, as any other 
 race of human beings.” And this is our answer to all the 
 theorizing on the principle of idleness being essentially domi¬ 
 nant in the negro; for the present settlers can hardly be said 
 to be picked men. 
 
 No one has been so irrational as to suppose that the busi¬ 
 ness of planting colonies is an easy thing. We are not blind 
 to the lessons that the many disastrous adventures in it have 
 left in history. The fatal errors which ruined the Duke de 
 Choiseul’s great expedition to Kourou, when 1000 or 1200 
 men, very much unprovided with the most common neces¬ 
 saries, and at the most rainy and unhealthy season, were 
 sent out at once to people the immense deserts of French 
 Guiana, are not very likely to be incurred to-day. The most 
 cautious and wary trial of the seasons, climate, soil, &c., of 
 Liberia, and of the fitness of negroes for the discipline of 
 laws, has first been made; repeated experiments have shown 
 what sort of discipline must be used, what means each emi¬ 
 grant must bring with him, and what habits he must be ex¬ 
 pected to adopt when arrived, to prevent his bringing the 
 burden of pauperism on the colony. The present settlement 
 virtually supports itself: the introduction of new settlers 
 involves all the expense to the Society. This may fairly be 
 expected to be always the case. All the uncertainties rela¬ 
 tive to a country so different from our own, and so distant, 
 have been explored by forerunners: we know what are the 
 real dangers to be guarded against, and are not to be alarmed 
 by unfounded imaginations. Besides, all the circumstances 
 connected with the planting of colonies are not disadvan¬ 
 tageous: Adam Smith with his usual wisdom remarks, that 
 the colony of a civilized nation which takes possession of a 
 
 C3903 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 waste country, for many causes is apt to advance more rap¬ 
 idly to wealth and greatness than any other human society. 
 Nay, we do know that failure is not the certain issue even 
 under the most sinister auspices. It was a fine idea of Mr. 
 E. Everett’s, when describing the landing of the Pilgrims at 
 Plymouth from the May Flower, to suppose that a reader were 
 to shut up the book after seeing this fated company debark, 
 and conjecture the result: how soon and how naturally the 
 political economist would have imagined their destruction! 
 Yet all calculations were baffled, and the sons of those Pil¬ 
 grims yet flourish in that bleak and stony region, with a 
 prosperity healthier than the Saturnian earth itself ever 
 gave. But, indeed, the political economist who should do 
 Liberia the justice to survey it well, would pronounce that 
 this colony cannot fail—every thing is in its favour, if there 
 be but prudence. 
 
 Still, the adversaries of abolition, incredulous, deny that 
 the successful experiment of a small colony of American 
 negroes affords sufficient grounds for the belief that it can 
 be expanded into a populous State; that by the admission of 
 the Society itself its colony could not now receive the annual 
 addition of 6000 without utter destruction, and that the 
 area of the colonial territory could contain but a small part 
 of the slave population of the United States. On the subject 
 of these objections, we have taken means to procure the most 
 authentic information of the views of the leading friends of 
 the Colony. The following particulars are so judicious and 
 succinct that we give them in their original form: they are 
 from the test source. 
 
 ‘ ‘ I have not a doubt that the Colony of Liberia can receive 
 emigrants in any number which the Society, or the States, 
 or the National Government may be able to transport. We 
 have thought, it is true, that the slow growth of the Colony 
 hitherto has been advantageous to it, but its affairs are now 
 so settled and prosperous as to admit of a much larger annual 
 accession to its numbers. Several thousands might now be 
 annually colonized, provided some preparation were made 
 for their reception by the erection of buildings for them, and 
 
 C391] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 some provision for their temporary support after their ar¬ 
 rival. I would say that from ten to fifteen dollars would be 
 enough to allow to each emigrant for such preparations and 
 support. Perhaps no country is more productive and fertile 
 than Liberia; probably one hundred thousand people might 
 derive their subsistence from the territory already purchased, 
 and additional territory to any desirable extent may be easily 
 obtained. 
 
 “Suppose then we had $100,000 at command annually, it 
 might all be judiciously expended in a single year in remov¬ 
 ing emigrants and in preparing for the emigrants of future 
 years. I should think the wisest course would be to send, 
 say one thousand or fifteen hundred the first year, and double 
 that number the next, and at the end of five years I should 
 judge ten thousand might be annually sent with advantage 
 in every respect to the interests of the Colony. It would 
 certainly be desirable to make some selection among those 
 who might first offer, as much might depend on their char¬ 
 acter and habits. It may not be easy to discriminate suffi¬ 
 ciently in this matter, and we must depend principally upon 
 the moral means which may be set in operation in Liberia to 
 improve and elevate the population.—The new circum¬ 
 stances, in which emigrants find themselves there, work re¬ 
 markable and most favourable changes in their character. 
 They give them enterprise, invention, self-reliance, and high 
 purposes and hopes!” 
 
 People in the United States are hardly aware what degree 
 of attention and admiration the founding of this colony has 
 excited in Europe. We have ourselves the very best reason 
 to know that extreme interest is expressed in its prospects 
 by learned Professors and eminent Ministers of State in 
 Germany. The Bulletins of the Geographical Society of 
 Paris have often heralded the rising greatness of our little 
 African republic, and paid some of the advocates of the 
 Society the flattering compliment of translating large ex¬ 
 tracts from their speeches. It is not long since the Chan¬ 
 cellor of the British Exchequer, Lord Althorp, declared in 
 Parliament that he regarded the founding of Liberia as one 
 
 C 392 ] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 of the most important events of the century. It is impos¬ 
 sible to mention without emotion the two next English names, 
 whose approbation carries with it a blessing of great unction. 
 The aged and venerable Thomas Clarkson is said to have 
 listened to the details of the Society’s operations with an 
 enthusiastic delight, such as he has not manifested for twenty 
 years: he wrote to Mr. Cresson: “For myself I am free to 
 say, that of all things that have been going on in our favour 
 since 1787, when the abolition of the slave trade was first 
 seriously proposed, that which is going on in the United 
 States is the most important. It surpasses every thing which 
 has yet occurred.” And Mr. Wilberforce, a spirit coequal 
 with Howard and the Premier name on the rolls of humanity 
 when she speaks with authority, (we mean when philanthropy 
 having taken its seat in parliaments and privy councils puts 
 on the authoritative character of state policy,) Mr. Wilber¬ 
 force declares: “You have gladdened my heart by con¬ 
 vincing me that sanguine as had been my hopes of the happy 
 effects to be produced by your institution, all my anticipa¬ 
 tions are scanty and cold compared with the reality. This 
 may truly be deemed a pledge of the divine favour, and be¬ 
 lieve me no Briton, I had almost said no American, can take 
 a livelier interest than myself in your true greatness and 
 glory.” Very handsome contributions to the Society’s funds 
 have also been made in England, chiefly by the Society of 
 Friends, a body of people enviably distinguished among 
 religionists by the exclusive title of sectaries of domestic 
 freedom. 
 
 This colony thus cheered on by the enlightened sentiment 
 of Europe, is obviously destined to prove the best means of 
 putting an end to the African slave trade. The attempt to 
 crush this piracy by guardian fleets on the coast has had but 
 indifferent success. The whole number of Africans recap¬ 
 tured by the British cruisers from 1819 to 1828, was only 
 13,287, being on an average 1400 per annum, while the num¬ 
 ber kidnapped is supposed to have amounted to 100,000 
 yearly. The British officers have borne the most honourable 
 testimony to the great benefit rendered to the service by the 
 
 C393] 
 
ARIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 Colony of Liberia. For a great distance north and south of 
 it, the trade is effectually stopped, and this not merely by 
 show of hostile interference, but by the surer measure of 
 luring the natives to the more profitable business of peaceful 
 commerce. Several powerful tribes have wholly renounced 
 the trade of slaves, and have put themselves under the pro¬ 
 tection of the colony. The sole means of shutting up for ever 
 the gate of this satanie mischief, is the planting of a number 
 of colonies of free American blacks along the coast; the 
 ardent approbation and co-operation of England, France, 
 and the Netherlands, may readily be had to give them se¬ 
 curity, and perhaps the Spanish Bourbons and the divided 
 house of Braganza may one day be tempted to a show of a 
 little good faith in behalf of Africa, on this plan. England 
 is fully sensible of the reparation she owes to humanity for 
 her deep participation in the Spanish Assiento, and for her 
 having done her utmost to render slavery immortal in these 
 United States. Her unrelaxed intercession with all the 
 European powers, and with the South American, ever since 
 the Congress of Vienna, to procure the extinction of the slave 
 trade, has gone far to redeem her, we admit, and will cover a 
 multitude of sins of the Castlereagh policy. All the other 
 powers are likewise most deeply implicated in the complex 
 guilt of that trade. 
 
 But besides its agency in suppressing the slave trade, we 
 are not ashamed to confess that we look on the hope of 
 spreading civilization to a great extent around Liberia, per¬ 
 haps the regeneration of the whole western coast, by means 
 of this colony, as by no means chimerical. Who shall say 
 that a colony of half a million of civilized black men in the 
 centre of the west coast, (and we dare believe that not less 
 will be the population of Liberia and its sister settlements 
 before the close of the present century), exhibiting to the 
 nations about it the spectacle of a well ordered State, owing 
 its prosperity to the arts of peace, to laws, and to religion, 
 may not spread a peaceful influence, for hundreds of leagues, 
 never equalled in power by any impulse felt in any quarter 
 of Africa, except in the propagation of Mahommedanism by 
 
 C3943 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 the sword ? History and tradition give us to believe that the 
 civilization of the world had its source in the heart of Africa: 
 why may not the reverted current be poured into a land 
 itself once prolific of so benign a stream? Are not we, who 
 are at this moment doubting of the possibility of civilizing a 
 dark quarter of the world, ourselves an alien race, colonists 
 on a land the farthest distant from the ancient seats of 
 Christendom, which yet in the course of three centuries has 
 become a continent redundant with civilization? It was 
 truly said at the Anniversary of the Society in 1832, that a 
 thousand instruments for the diffusion of improvement may 
 now be employed, which were unknown even at the time of 
 the first founding of colonies on this continent. But all other 
 hopes are feeble compared with a just reliance on the example 
 of a large community of people of the same colour, the same 
 descent, the same nature with the people of the coast. In¬ 
 deed, the Continent of Africa is, at the present day, before 
 all others in the romantic interest it inspires. No specula¬ 
 tion engages more cultivated minds than the Geography of 
 the Interior, and no object is thought worthier of the sacri¬ 
 fice of precious lives, than its exploration for the satisfaction 
 of merely scientific curiosity. Who has not glowed with the 
 enthusiasm of Herodotus, of Burckhardt, of Denham, or with 
 the humbler zeal of the Landers? Who has not brooded 
 over the imagination of her vast deserts, her beautiful oases, 
 her aromatic gales? WTio has not grown romantic with 
 thoughts of her gorgeous heavens, the tropical glory of her 
 vegetable kingdom? Above all, who is a stranger to the 
 uncertain image of her fabulous old waters? To sow the 
 principal and mother elements of human life in this land, 
 to found society, to introduce polity, religion, morals, and 
 laws, and to plant the arts—why shall not this be the portion 
 of our Colony? We believe, as firmly as that we now live, 
 that at least the Coast of Guinea is, in no great lapse of time, 
 to undergo a purification by the instrumentality of Liberia. 
 The philosophic imagination loves to feast itself with these 
 hopes, and to believe that, in a century perhaps, there shall 
 be in the orphan homes of Western Africa, an odour richer 
 
 C395U 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 than that mentioned in the divine lines of Milton, in one of 
 those familiar geographical passages which it is always a 
 charm to repeat:— 
 
 -“When to them who sail 
 
 Beyond the cape of Hope, and now are past 
 
 Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 
 Of Araby the blest; with such delay 
 
 Well pleased they slack their course, and many a league 
 
 Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles. ’ ’ 
 
 Should the day ever come, when, from the mouth of the 
 Gambia to the equator, not a slave-market exists, but peace, 
 good faith, commerce, and an increasing mental light have 
 sway, then shall indeed the mariner, as he plies through these 
 now infamous latitudes, slack his course, well pleased to join 
 with the nations in the villages and the plains, in the solemn 
 litany they offer to Heaven to deliver them for ever from the 
 scourges they have escaped! 
 
 But a land dear to our hearts is too to be redeemed: it is 
 our own native America, and first of all Virginia. If an 
 exigency ever existed, and inducements to a step of deliver¬ 
 ance were ever too forcible for reasonable men to withstand, 
 that exigency and such inducements now stand clear in her 
 view. But after all, it has been asserted, that, be the present 
 condition of Virginia bad as it may, her very existence de¬ 
 pends on retaining her slavesthat, take but these away and 
 she becomes desolate! Are they indeed essential to her 
 existence, even though it be true that she never can prosper 
 with them, and must deteriorate from day to day while she 
 keeps them? Has she but one possible mode of existence, 
 and is she condemned to live out that through all its descend¬ 
 ing stages? Ruinous fatalism! Is it not, on the contrary, 
 the exclamation of every observer, that no country in the 
 world was ever more blessed than Virginia originally was: 
 that the chief of her blessings being in their nature inde¬ 
 structible, (such as consist in the climate, Atlantic and cen¬ 
 tre;] 
 
THE SLAVERY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 tral position, the number, magnitude, and arrangement of 
 rivers and their estuaries, natural adaptation to manufac¬ 
 tures, &c. &c.) are not yet marred, and that others, (such as 
 fine soils, &c.,) though greatly injured, may yet be consid¬ 
 ered reclaimable by the same system that makes the cold and 
 rocky soils of New England as productive as the Delta of 
 Egypt? Eminent agriculturists have given the opinion that 
 it is cheaper to reclaim reduced lands than to clear new ones. 
 We shall never believe that Virginia would not have a thou¬ 
 sand temptations for different sorts of emigrants, for capi¬ 
 talists, for free labourers, and for her own sons who meditate 
 emigration, were but measures resorted to to take the whole 
 labour of the State out of the hands of slaves. Can any one 
 make us believe that, with a free white population, the 
 unparalleled facilities of water power on James river would 
 not ere this have been made the means of fabricating manu¬ 
 factures to an amount greater than the whole product of 
 tobacco of the State ? But it is still maintained that Virginia 
 can never draw the emigrants from other countries, because 
 her inducements can not be as great as those of the new 
 States. A great deal might be said to show, that, in a balance 
 between Virginia without slaves, and the untenanted quar¬ 
 ters of the west without the blessings of human neighbour¬ 
 hood, without proximity to the sea, without markets, without 
 the vicinity of the church, the school-house, the mill, the 
 smith’s shop, &c.—not quite all the advantages are on the 
 side of the west. It may be puerile to suppose, as each slave 
 is withdrawn, that by any principle of population a freeman 
 will take his place: doubtless the tide of free labour would 
 not instantly begin to flow in. But as soon as the operation 
 of removal had taken an irrecoverable tendency towards its 
 intended results, we dare believe that an adequate supply of 
 free labour would be at hand. Perhaps the whole amount of 
 labour now done in the State could be performed by one 
 third of the number of white labourers. The question, 
 whether free labourers would come, however, to supply the 
 place of that of slaves, is solved with greater or less ease, 
 according as it presumes that the abstraction of the slave is 
 
 C397] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 to be accompanied with compensation to the master, pro¬ 
 cured from a source without the State, or that the master 
 gives away his slave. Under the first presumption the ques¬ 
 tion solves itself. Under the second, the whole question 
 depends on one’s opinion whether Virginia possesses any 
 superior capacities for the application of any extensive 
 classes of industry. But of this we have already sufficiently 
 treated under our first head. 
 
 We leave this momentous question now with the people of 
 the counties of Virginia: it is for them to decide what effort 
 they will make to diminish the evils of slavery among them¬ 
 selves. That slavery is not an evil to their prosperity they 
 cannot, will not say. Will they say a remedy is impossible ? 
 It is any thing but impossible—it tempts, lures them, and 
 will force itself on them. Will they say that the evil will cure 
 itself? It will not cure itself—it ravages with increasing 
 violence, and there is no hope of its decrease, but from its 
 soon reducing the energies of Virginia to such a state of 
 imbecility as to be incapable of furnishing materiel for such 
 an amount of evil. Let them not assent to the view of the 
 eloquent Mr. Brown, (utinam noster esset) who seems to 
 wish them to wait (some centuries!) until the Mississippi 
 Valley, now but sprinkled with population, is full, and the 
 ebb of population begins towards poor, effete, decrepid Vir¬ 
 ginia. Will they say they are afraid to touch the mighty 
 evil—they leave it to their children? They will have learnt 
 what must then be the heritage of their children. Or will 
 they fold their arms in torpid indifference to the utmost 
 depth of the calamities they provoke ? Then we shall under¬ 
 stand them; they are prepared, not merely for enduring the 
 present evil, but for that ‘ ‘ worse, ’ ’ when the gloom of to-day 
 shall thicken into a deep darkness, and upon that darkness 
 shall rush down an awful cloud of domestic war, like another 
 night shut in upon midnight! 
 
 To the young men of Virginia, who have lately pledged 
 their future manhood and age to the prosecution of this 
 work of deliverance, we say, let them remember in the pres¬ 
 ence of what a host of witnesses their championship is to be 
 
 IT 398 ] 
 
THE SLAVEEY QUESTION IN VIRGINIA 
 
 exhibited. In a community where popularity is essential to 
 public usefulness, let them yet not fear, lest the popular 
 favour desert them. The name of the Great Democrat is 
 once more in the van:—a power that never failed in Vir¬ 
 ginia. Many indeed are the subjects of unhappy conflict in 
 the United States, on which we have but too much reason to 
 wish that Mr. Jefferson were still alive to give his umpirage. 
 Let us at least hail the unexpected appearance, that offers 
 guidance on this domestic theme, the greatest perhaps of all. 
 Let them be cheered by such auspices; again “he heads the 
 flock of war. ’ ’ But we should be disloyal to the grandeur of 
 their cause, if we did not forearm them with fortitude to 
 meet odium, to suffer desertion, and to bear with mortifying 
 reverses of every shape. The cause is great enough to de¬ 
 serve these testimonies of its importance. They have before 
 them no easy career, but their destiny to run it is the more 
 enviable. Let the words of Petrarch to Stephen Colonna 
 sink into their heart of hearts: “few companions shalt thou 
 have by the better way: so much the more do I pray thee, 
 gentle spirit, not to leave off thy magnanimous undertak¬ 
 ing.” Or would they man themselves to the proper pitch, 
 with the wisdom of a better moralist than Petrarch, let them 
 know: alii de vita, alii de gloria, et benevolentia civium in 
 discrimen vocantur .—Sunt ergo domestic* fortitudines non 
 inferiores militaribus. (Cic. de Off. I. 24. 22.) 
 
 When, some years ago, upon a public occasion, a young 
 Virginian 1 complained of the tone in which an American 
 Senator boasted that he had read himself out of all romantic 
 notions on this subject, he ventured to declare that might he 
 but humbly sit at the feet of Charles Pox, and glow with 
 kindred feeling to his, (for he was at no time forgetful of 
 the thought of giving freedom to the African, and spent his 
 last breath in achieving the suppression of the slave trade, 
 though the bill received the royal signature after his death), 
 he should not envy the American who was so very free of 
 that fine enthusiasm. Since that day it has been that Vir¬ 
 ginian’s lot to stand at the grave of Fox, and had he dared 
 1 J. B. H. in African Repository, September, 1827. 
 
 £399 ] 
 
AEIS SONIS FOCISQUE 
 
 attempt to chasten his feelings into a worthiness for the 
 auspices he had thus chosen in his boyhood, he might have 
 found a scene so literal as to startle him! There may the 
 foes and the friends of that great statesman see how the 
 passions of transient events give way before the immortal 
 essence of one deed for general humanity! By his foes let 
 be forgotten the Coalition and the East India Bill; by his 
 party friends, forgotten for a moment the struggle to 
 diminish the influence of the crown, and to uphold liberty 
 under all the disgrace of the French excesses in her name. 
 Behold what the sculptor chooses, out of all Mr. Fox’s claims 
 to renown, to transmit to posterity! He has carved the 
 dying statesman recumbent on his tomb, and at his feet the 
 most conspicuous figure is a liberated African on his knees, 
 raising his shattered chain with clasped hands, and joining 
 with his first hymn of freedom, a prayer to avert the death 
 of the vindicator, assertor, liberator 1 of Africa. To our 
 mind, that is the most eloquent marble in Westminster 
 Abbey! 
 
 i The two former are titles given in the Civil Law to the advocates for 
 liberty, when the right of any one to freedom was in suit. Hein. II. 
 p. 381, ed. Dupin. 
 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 Abd-er-Rahman, 114 
 
 Adams, John, 89, 110 (note), 111 
 
 Adams, John Quincy, 93, 109 
 
 Alexander I of Russia, 308 
 
 Allen, James, 89 
 
 Alston, W., 181, 182 
 
 Alston, William J., 182 
 
 Althorp, Lord, 392 
 
 Ames, Oliver, 211 
 
 Amory, 116 
 
 Anderson, R. H., 153, 154 
 Andrews, Olivero, 157 
 Anthony, Christopher (uncle to 
 Samuel Jordan Harrison), 58, 59 
 Anthony, Christopher (first cousin 
 to Samuel Jordan Harrison), 64 
 (note), 133 
 
 Anthony, Joseph, 54, 59 
 Anthony, Mary Jordan, 32 
 Anthony, Mary Jordan (Mrs. 
 
 Christopher), 58 
 Anthonys, 32 
 
 Appleton, U. S. Consul at Leg¬ 
 horn, 69 (see also note 2) 
 
 Archer, 387 
 Aristotle, 324 
 Armstrong, General, 107 
 Arysen, 4 (note 2) 
 
 Atkinson, Roger, 16 (note) 
 Audubon, 13 (note) 
 
 Bacon, Francis, 321, 322 
 Bacon, Nathaniel, 13, 142 
 Bacons, 3, 142 
 
 Baez, Buenaventura, 211, 212 
 Bagby, Dr., 57 
 Bancroft, George, 327 
 Barbour, James, 109 
 Barnard, F. A. P., 145, 148 
 Bassano, Duke of, 107 
 Bates of Charlotte, N. C., 241, 242 
 (see also note) 
 
 Bates, Mrs. (grandmother of Mar¬ 
 garet Jordan Harrison), 34 
 
 Bates, Mrs. (daughter of William 
 Harrison*), 39 
 Bates, Benjamin, 36 
 Bates, Edward (son of Benjamin), 
 36 
 
 Bates, Edward (grandson of 
 William Harrison*), 39 
 Bates, Edward (son of Fleming), 
 31, 53, 54 
 
 Bates, Edward, Attorney-General, 
 31, 133 
 
 Bates, Elisha, 31, 41, 50 (note), 
 
 84 
 
 Bates, Fleming, 31, 35 
 Bates, George, of Skimino, 29 
 Bates, George, Governor of Mis¬ 
 souri, 31 
 
 Bates, James, 29, 30 
 Bates, John/, 29 
 Bates, John2, 29, 30, 31 
 Bates, John 3, 31 
 Bates, Mrs. John 2 , 30 
 Bates, Sarah Jordan (Mrs. 
 Fleming), 31 
 
 Bates, Sarah Jordan Harrison 
 (Mrs. Elisha), 50 (note) 
 
 Bates, Susanna Fleming (Mrs. 
 John3), 31 
 
 Bates, Thomas Fleming, 31 
 Bates family, 3, 16, 29, 31 
 Beaman, Charles C., 218 (note), 
 219 
 
 Beattie, James, 320 
 Beauregard, General, 233 
 Beecher, Henry W., 201 
 Belson, Edmund, 27 
 Benjamin, Judah P., Secretary of 
 State, 157, 233, 236 (see also 
 note), 237, 238, 239, 240, 243, 
 
 259 (note), 266 
 Bentinck, Lord, 306 
 Bentley, Richard, 326 
 Berkeley, Sir William, 279 (note) 
 Bernadotte, 307 
 
 £403 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Bernhard, Duke of Saxe-Weimar, 
 110 (see also note), 116, 118 
 Berry, John, 7 (note) 
 
 Bertuch, Fr. J., 118 (note) 
 Besouth, Catharine, 5 (note 2) 
 Besouth, James, 5 (see also note 
 2), 9 (note) 
 
 Betts, Susanna, 7 (note) 
 
 Biddle, friend of the South, 198 
 Bigelow, John, 217 
 Bingham, Judge, 168 (note) 
 
 Black of London, publisher, 119 
 Blackburn, 44 
 Blackstone, 172 
 
 Blair, Francis P., Sr., 180, 184, 
 
 186 
 
 Blair, James, 28 (note 1) 
 Blumenbach, J. F., 113 
 Boen, James, 5 
 Bolles, writer, 73 (note) 
 Bonaparte, Lucien, 114 
 Borcke, Heros von, 157 
 Bouldin, Thomas T., 89 
 Bourdenaye, 194 (note) 
 
 Boyd of Newberry, 244 
 Boyd family of New Kent County, 
 43 
 
 Boyle, Eobert, 321 
 Bracken, Eev. Mr., 290 
 Bradford, lawyer, 192 
 Bradford, Nannie, 177 
 Brady, 199, 201 
 
 Brand, Frances Whitlocke (Mrs. 
 
 Joseph), 142, 143 
 Brand, Hetty Eeed (Mrs. 
 
 William), 82, 143 
 Brand, Joseph, 142 
 Brand, William, 142, 143 
 Brand, William Francis, 145 (see 
 also note), 147, 179 
 Brasseur, Eobert, 24, 25 
 Breckinridge, Secretary of War, 
 157, 233, 239, 240, 241, 242, 259 
 (note), 262, 266 
 Breckinridges, 25 (note) 
 
 Breese, Samuel Livingston, 138 
 (note) 
 
 Brewster, Sir David, 321 
 Brodnax, General, 377, 381 
 Brooke, Francis J., 138 (note) 
 Brooks, Charles, 57 
 
 Brougham, Lord, 288, 331, 332 
 Brown, 398 
 
 Brown, Alexander, 21 (see also 
 note 1), 25 (note), 54, 56 (note 
 1), 219 
 
 Brown, George William, 202 
 Brown, James, 108, 128 
 Brownfield of Uniontown, 49 
 Bruce, historian, 3, 4 
 Bruen, Matthias, 138 (note) 
 Bryant, William Cullen, 298 
 Buck, Matthew, 33 
 Bulfon, 286 
 
 Bullard, H. A., 138 (note) 
 
 Burke, Judge, of South Carolina, 
 91 
 
 Burke, Edmund, 287, 318, 336, 347 
 Burnett, Senator from Kentucky, 
 234 
 
 Burns, Eobert, 284 
 Burr, Aaron, 106, 107 (note) 
 Burt, Colonel, 245, 246 (note) 
 Burton, General, 203, 204, 205, 206 
 Burton, Ann Hudson (Mrs. 
 
 Jesse), 80 
 
 Burton, Jesse, 57, 80 
 Burton, Norvell, 144 (note) 
 Burton, Eobert, 113, 125, 329 
 Burton, William, 78, 79 
 Burtons, 3, 80 (note) 
 
 Butler, General, 168 (note) 
 
 Buttmann, P. K., 326 
 
 Byron, Lord, 240, 285, 313, 314 
 
 Cabell, Mrs., 59 (note 2), 64 
 (note), 74, 79, 80, 81 (note), 109 
 Cabell, Margaret Jordan (Mrs. 
 William), 25 (note), 32 
 Cabell, Eobert Henry, 109 
 Cabell, William, 25 (note), 55 
 Cabells, 25 (note), 31 (note), 32 
 Caldwell, philanthropist, 385 
 Calhoun, John C., 102 
 Calloway, John, 57 
 Campbell, John A., 191 
 Canning, George, 292, 309, 310, 
 311, 312 
 
 Canonge, Judge, 137 
 Carey, Mathew, 378 
 Carignan, Prince de, 122 
 Carleton, Henry, 138 (note) 
 
 C4043 
 
INDEX 
 
 Carroll, Charles, 89 
 Cary, Archibald, 220 
 Cary, Clarence, 213 
 Cary, Hetty, 159 
 Cary, Jennie, 147 
 Cary, John Brune, 220 (note) 
 Cary, Monimia Fairfax (Mrs. 
 Archibald), 171, 178, 220 
 Cary, Wilson Miles, 32 (note), 94 
 Carys, 147, 194 
 
 Castlereagh, Lord, 306, 308, 309, 
 394 
 
 Cathalan, U. S. Consul at Mar¬ 
 seilles, 69 
 Cato, 11 
 
 Chambliss, General, 152, 153 
 Chandler, Zachariah, 216 
 Chantrey, Sir F. L., 317 
 Charles I of England, 195 (note) 
 Charles II of England, 6 
 Charles V, Emperor, 340 
 Chase, Salmon P., 133, 185, 196, 
 202 
 
 Chesnut, Mrs., of South Carolina, 
 158, 159 
 
 Choiseul, Due de, 390 
 Christian, writer, 59 (note 1), 65 
 (note), 74 (note) 
 
 Cibber, Colley, 327 
 Cicero, 399 
 
 Claiborne, John F. H., 138 (note) 
 Clark, 48 
 
 Clark, Champ, 81 (note) 
 
 Clark, M. H., 228 
 Clarke, Dr., 142 (note) 
 
 Clarke, John, 57 
 Clarkson, Thomas, 393 
 Claude Lorrain, 313 
 Clay, Mrs., of Alabama, 158, 159 
 Clay, Elizabeth Hudson, 80 
 Clay, Henry, 79, 80, 84, 90, 93, 94, 
 95 (see also note), 100, 109, 110, 
 111, 116, 119, 120, 123, 124, 128- 
 131, 133, 135, 144, 382 
 Clay, Mrs. Henry, 98, 108, 109 
 Clay, Henry, Jr., 131 
 Clay, O. G., 79 
 Clement, Adam, 57 
 Cleveland, Grover, 80 (note), 218 
 Clews, Henry, 211 
 Cobbett, William, 62, 65 (note) 
 
 Cocke, John H., 138 (note) 
 
 Coke, Sir Edward, 288 
 Coleridge, 323, 327 
 Commines, 326 
 Conrad of New Orleans, 142 
 (note) 
 
 Constant, Benjamin, 108 
 Cooper, Dr., 204, 206 
 Cooper, James Fenimore, 99, 120, 
 121 (note), 298, 326 
 Cooper, Samuel, 237 (see also 
 note), 238, 239 
 Corbin, Captain, 152, 153 
 Coxsetter, Captain, 263 
 Craven, Dr., 151, 197 
 Crocker, Charles, 220 (note) 
 Croxton, General, 266 
 Crump, Judge, 248, 249 
 Cunningham, Allan, 317 
 Cutler, J. E., 56 (note 3) 
 
 Cuvier, 4, 108 
 
 Daniel, John M., 157 
 
 Daniel, Judge William, 79, 89 
 
 Dante, 285 
 
 Davis, George, 238 
 
 Davis, J. A. G., 138 (note) 
 
 Davis, Jefferson, 149-161, 173-189, 
 196-207, 225-267 passim 
 Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, 156, 175, 
 200, 201, 204, 225-228, 241-266 
 passim 
 
 Davis, Mica j ah, 60 
 Davison, Secretary, 22 
 Davy, Sir Humphry, 322 
 Debrett, 332 
 
 De Leon, Cooper, 157, 158 
 De Morgan, Augustus, 138 (note), 
 326 
 
 Denegre, James, 159 
 
 Dew, Thomas R., 102 (see also 
 
 note) 
 
 Dickes, William, 5 
 Dickson, Senator from Connecti¬ 
 cut, 200 
 
 Digby, Sir Kenelm, 322 
 Dimock, Henry F., 218 (note), 219 
 Dissen, Professor, 115 
 Douglas, Henry K., 170 
 Douglass, Achilles, 57 
 Drummond, Sir William, 324 
 
 [405] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Drysdale, Hugh, 28 ( note 1) 
 
 Duke, General Basil, 182, 183, 242 
 Dunbar, David, 9 (note) 
 
 Dunbar, Elizabeth (Harrison) 
 (Mrs. David), 5, 6, 9 (note) 
 Duponceau, 112 
 Diirck, Fr., 117 (note 2) 
 
 Echols, Major, 225 (note 2), 241 
 Edmond of Richmond, 230 
 Edwards, 378 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 311 
 Embree, Moses, 37 
 Enunnamus, Rodamun, 46 
 Erskine, Thomas, 292 
 Euler, 374 
 Eustace, 314 
 
 Evans, friend of the South, 198 
 Everett, Alexander H., 91, 133, 
 134, 138 (note) 
 
 Everett, Edward, 86, 100, 112, 114, 
 118, 133, 134, 327, 391 
 Ewell, Richard S., 229 
 Exmouth, Lord, 309 
 
 Fairfax, Brian, 195 (note) 
 Fairfax, George William, 20 
 (note), 195 (note) 
 
 Fairfax, William, 194 (note) 
 Fairfax family, 158, 194 
 Faulkner, 367 
 
 Ferdinand V of Spain, 340, 365 
 Ferdinand YII of Spain, 307, 308 
 Ferguson, Adam, 284 
 Ferrar, Cicely (Jordan) (Mrs. 
 
 William), 21-23 
 Ferrar, William, 22 
 Field, Major-General, 152 
 Field, Stephen J., 216 
 Fielding, Henry, 285 
 Finley, Dr., philanthropist, 385 
 Fleehier, 97 
 
 Fleming, Charles, 24 (note 2), 31 
 (see also note) 
 
 Flien, John, 50 
 Fontaine, John, 44 (note) 
 
 Forner, 49 
 
 Forrest, Nathan B., 259 (note) 
 Foster, Senator from Connecticut, 
 200 
 
 Fox, actor, 65 (note) 
 
 Fox, Charles, 287, 296, 399, 400 
 Fox, George, 17, 25, 36 
 Frederick Augustus I, King of 
 Saxony, 306, 307 
 Freeman, B., 48 
 
 Froriep, Bertha von, 118 (note) 
 Froriep, Emma von, 117, 127 
 Froriep, Ludwig Friedrich von, 
 
 117 (note 3), 120, 126 
 Fullerton, Judge, 192 
 
 Gaines, Edmund Pendleton, 144 
 
 Gaither, 47 
 
 Galileo, 321 
 
 Gallatin, Albert, 73 
 
 Gallatin, Mrs. Albert, 92 
 
 Garcia, singer, 108 
 
 Garland, 78 
 
 Garrison, Cornelius K., 211 
 George III of England, 113, 363 
 Gherardi, Italian instructor, 103 
 Gibbon, Edward, 325 
 Gibson, John, 317 
 Gilder, Richard Watson, 161 
 Giles, 369 
 
 Girardey, General, 152 
 Glover, 13 
 
 Godding, Isaac, 7 (note) 
 
 Goethe, J. W. von, 97, 112, 116- 
 118, 121 (note), 314, 319 (note), 
 323, 327, 330 
 Goethe, Madame de, 117 
 Goode of Virginia, 341, 342 
 Goschen, Adolf, 115 
 Gott, sculptor, 317 
 Gower, Lord Leveson, 327 (note 1) 
 Grant, TJ. S., 155, 185, 186, 209, 
 210-213, 215, 216, 226 
 Gray, Thomas, 292 
 Greeley, Horace, 200, 201 
 Gregg, General, 153 
 Gregory XVI, 121 
 Grymes, lawyer, 129 
 Guillet of Paris, 106 
 Gurley, Ralph Randolph, 138 (note) 
 Gurney, Joseph J., 108 
 Hale, Judge, of Illinois, 133 
 Hall, Basil, 334 
 Hall, Thomas W., 247 
 Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 298 
 Halls, 145 (note) 
 
 [ 406 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Hamilton, Alexander, 91 
 Ham, Jerom, 29 (note) 
 
 Hamor, Ralph, 22 
 Hampton, Wade, 226 
 Hancock, Simon, 77 
 Hancock, Winfield Scott, 218 
 Hardeman, Tony, 170 
 Harnden, Colonel, 260, 261, 266 
 Harris, John, 22 
 Harrison, Cromwell’s regicide 
 general, 4 (note 2) 
 
 Harrison, Ann Ratcliff e (Mrs. 
 
 William 2), 15 
 Harrison, Anne, 8 
 Harrison, Archibald Cary, 220 
 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Barbara, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Burton, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Burton Nor veil, 3, 13 
 (note), 20 (note), 32 (note), 81, 
 82, 117 (note 2), 133, 143, 144- 
 221 passim 
 
 Harrison, Caskie, 192 (note) 
 Harrison, Constance, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Constance Cary (Mrs. 
 Burton Norvell), 156, 158, 159, 
 160, 162, 171, 178, 184, 195, 207, 
 219, 220 
 
 Harrison, Elizabeth Besouth (Mrs. 
 Richard), 5, 6, 9 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Ellena, 8 
 Harrison, Fairfax, 207, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Frances Brand (Mrs. 
 Jesse Burton), 81, 82, 143, 144, 
 145, 149, 151, 156 (note), 177, 
 189, 191, 193, 199 
 Harrison, Frances Fairfax, 220 
 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Francis Burton, 218, 220 
 
 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Gessner, 104 (note) 
 Harrison, Helena Bates Walley 
 (Mrs. Archibald Cary), 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Hetty Cary (Mrs. Fair¬ 
 fax), 220 (note) 
 
 Harrison, James, 7 (see also note) 
 Harrison, Jeremy, 4, 6 
 Harrison, Jesse Burton, 3, 33 
 (note), 69 (note 2), 75-82, 84r- 
 143 passim, 144 (see also note), 
 145 (note), 185, 192, 193 
 
 Harrison, John (son of Richard 
 the immigrant), 7, 9 (note) 
 Harrison, John (son of Samuel 
 Jordan), 81 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Jordan, 9 (note), 40, 41, 
 50 (note), 53 
 
 Harrison, Mabel Judson (Mrs. 
 Francis Burton, second), 220 
 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Margaret Jordan (Mrs. 
 William■*), 15, 16, 30, 32, 33-36, 
 38, 39, 40, 42, 50, 51, 58 
 Harrison, Margaret Maupin (Mrs. 
 
 Williams), 15, 33 
 Harrison, Mary, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Mary Crocker (Mrs. 
 Francis Burton, first), 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Mary E., 81 (note) 
 Harrison, Mary Hubbard (Mrs. 
 William/), 15 
 
 Harrison, Richard (the immi¬ 
 grant), 4, 5, 6, 9 (see also note), 
 11, 12, 14, 15, 40, 50, 127 
 Harrison, Richard (son of Fair¬ 
 fax), 220 (note) 
 
 Harrison, Robert, 29 (note) 
 Harrison, Samuel Jordan, of 
 Lynchburg, 37-40, 41, 53-83 
 passim, 84, 86, 88, 94, 105, 127 
 Harrison, Samuel Jordan, Jr. (son 
 of Samuel Jordan of Lynchburg), 
 81 (note), 185, 192 (note) 
 Harrison, Samuel Jordan (son of 
 William Harrison6), 65 (note) 
 Harrison, Sarah Hudson Burton 
 (Mrs. Samuel Jordan of Lynch¬ 
 burg), 75, 79, 80-83, 84 
 Harrison, Shirley, 4 (note 2) 
 Harrison, Ursula, 220 (note) 
 Harrison, Virginia Randolph, 220 
 (note) 
 
 Harrison, William/, 7, 15, 40 
 Harrison, William 2, 15 
 Harrison, William2, 15, 40 
 Harrison, William4, 8 (note), 9 
 (note), 15, 16, 30, 31, 33-52 
 passim, 53, 75, 100, 127 
 Harrison, Williams, 37, 39, 41, 53, 
 61 
 
 Harrison, Williams, 65 (note), 81 
 (note) 
 
 C 407 ] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Harrison, William Henry, 4 ( note 
 2), 85, 135 
 
 Harrison, William Jordan, 9 
 (note), 53 (note) 
 
 Harrisons, 3, 4 (see also note 2), 
 
 5, 16, 29, 32, 45 (note 1), 53 
 (note), 193 
 
 Hartranft, John F., 169, 172, 188 
 Hastings, Warren, 305 
 Hathaway, Lieutenant, 246 
 Hayes, Rutherford B., 214, 215 
 Hearttee, Dr., 142 (note) 
 
 Heeren, A. H. L., 323, 327 
 Hegel, G. W. F., 302 
 Hendricks, Thomas A., 216 
 Henley, W. E., 165 
 Hennen, W. D., 235, 236 
 Henry, “Gus, ” Senator from 
 Tennessee, 234 
 Henry, Patrick, 16 (see also 
 note), 56 (note 2), 90, 139 
 (note), 235, 278, 291 
 Henry, W. W., 56 (note 2) 
 
 Hesser, G., 46 
 
 Hodge, Charles, 138 (note) 
 
 Hodgson, William, 50 (note) 
 
 Hoke, General, 80 (note) 
 Holcombe, J. P., 182 
 Holley, Alexander H., 148 
 Holt, Joseph, 164, 180-185, 186, 
 187, 200, 242 (note), 265 
 Hook, John, 56 (note 2) 
 Hopkinson, Joseph, 64 (note), 65 
 (note) 
 
 Horace, 124, 166, 328 
 Howard, Lord, of Effingham, 7 
 (note) 
 
 Howe, Samuel G., 211 
 Hoyle, lessee of Franklin Hotel, 69 
 (note 1), 74 
 Hubbard, Matthew, 15 
 Hudsons, 3, 84 
 Hughes, Christopher, 106 
 Hulbert, A. B., 51 (note) 
 
 Hull, Nicholas, 5 
 Humboldt, K. W. von, 120 
 Humphreys, Benjamin C., 198, 199 
 Hunt of New Orleans, 142 
 (note) 
 
 Hunt, Randall, 128 
 
 Hunt, Theodore Gaillard, 128 
 
 Ingersoll, friend of the South, 198 
 Irving, Washington, 99, 298, 333 
 Ives, Mrs., of Richmond, 158 
 
 Jackson, Andrew, 78, 93, 94, 95, 
 98, 108, 123, 135, 136, 137, 139 
 (note), 143, 145 (note) 
 
 Jardine, Professor, 321, 322 
 Jefferson, Thomas, 16, 20, 57, 65- 
 71, 85, 86, 88, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 
 98, 100, 103, 106, 107, 113, 118, 
 124, 131, 132, 136, 278, 290, 331, 
 368, 381, 382, 389, 399 
 Jeffrey, Francis, 288 
 Johnson, Andrew, 175, 179, 185, 
 186, 187, 190, 196, 197, 199, 200, 
 202, 243 (note) 
 
 Johnson, Samuel, 99, 286 
 Johnston, Albert S., 264 
 Johnston, Joseph E., 181, 232, 233, 
 235, 236, 240, 243 
 Johnston, William Preston, 242, 
 243 (see also note), 253, 256, 
 
 257, 259 (see also note), 264 
 Jones, Dr., superintendent of Pat¬ 
 ent Office, 345 
 Jones, William, 71, 73 
 Jordan, Benjamin, 24, 25, 31 
 Jordan, Cicely (Mrs. Samuel, the 
 Founder), 21-23 
 
 Jordan, Elizabeth Fleming (Mrs. 
 
 Samuel, 1679-1760), 24 (note 2) 
 Jordan, Hannah Bates (Mrs. Sam¬ 
 uel of Nansemond), 30 
 Jordan, James, 24 
 Jordan, John, 24 
 Jordan, Joseph, 24, 28, 29 
 Jordan, Joshua, 24 
 Jordan, Margaret Brasseur (Mrs. 
 
 Thomas2), 24, 25, 26, 27 
 Jordan, Mary Belson (Mrs. Rob¬ 
 ert l), 27 
 
 Jordan, Matthew, 24 
 Jordan, Richard (son of Thomas2), 
 24 
 
 Jordan, Richard (grandson of Jo¬ 
 seph), 29 
 
 Jordan, Robert l, 24, 26, 27, 29 
 Jordan, Robert 2, 27, 28, 29 
 Jordan, Robert (cousin of Marga¬ 
 ret Jordan Harrison), 34 
 
 C408] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Jordan, Samuel, the Founder, 20, 
 21 (see also note 1) 
 
 Jordan, Samuel (1679-1760), 24 
 (see also note 2), 31 (note) 
 Jordan, Samuel (1711-1767), of 
 Nansemond, 29, 30, 32, 33 
 Jordan, Colonel Samuel, of Buck¬ 
 ingham, 24 (note 2), 32 
 Jordan, Thomas l, 23 
 Jordan, Thomas 2, 23, 24, 25, 26, 
 27, 31 (see also note) 
 
 Jordan, Thomas ■?, 24, 26, 27 
 Jordans, 3, 16, 20, 31, 109 
 Judson, Henry, 220 (note) 
 
 Julien, editor, 122, 123 
 Juvenal, 273 
 
 Karl August, Duke of Saxe-Wei- 
 mar-Eisenaeh, 110 (note), 116, 
 118 (note) 
 
 Karl Friedrich, Duke of Saxe- 
 Weimar-Eisenaeh, 116 
 Kasson, John A., 215 
 Kendall, John, 5 (note 2) 
 
 Kendall, Bichard, 5 (note 2) 
 
 Kent, James, 309 
 Kepler, 322 
 Kingsley, Charles, 192 
 Kirk, Deborah Harrison (Mrs. 
 
 Elisha), 42-50 
 Kirk, Elisha, 42 
 Kolle, De, 121 
 Kossuth, Louis, 251 (note) 
 
 Kyle of Lynchburg, 75 
 
 Lablache, 123 
 Ladd, Th’omas, 37 
 Lafayette, General, 36, 89, 108 
 Laffert, Frauleins von, 114 
 Lamar, L. Q. C., 149, 150, 176, 214 
 Laurence, Robert, 24 
 Lavender of Old Town, Md., 47 
 Lawrence, Sir James, 107 (note) 
 Lee, Harry, 132 
 
 Lee, Robert E., 80 (note), 152- 
 155, 177, 188, 225, 228, 229 
 Legare, Hugh S., 99, 122 (note), 
 132 
 
 Leigh of New Orleans, 142 
 (note) 
 
 Lessing, G. E., 327 
 Lewes, G. H., 118 (note 2) 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 103 (note), 133, 
 163, 168, 182, 184, 196, 200, 241, 
 242 (note), 243 (see also note), 
 262, 265 
 
 Lindsey of Middletown, Pa., 49 
 Lingan, Captain, 244 
 Liverpool, Lord, 119 
 Livy, 284 
 
 Locke, John, 320, 321 
 Lolme, De, 310 
 
 Long, George, 90, 104 (see also 
 note), 123 
 
 Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, 86 
 Lounsbury, Thomas R., 146 
 Lowell, James Russell, 86 
 Lubbock, Frank R., 242, 253, 259, 
 264 
 
 Luden, Heinrich, 110 (note), 112, 
 127 
 
 Ludwig I of Bavaria, 117 (see also 
 note 2) 
 
 Lyman, John, 6, 8 
 Lynch, Charles, 56 (note 3), 57 
 Lynch, John, 56, 58, 60, 70 
 Lyons, James, 204, 227 
 
 Macaulay, Thomas B., 101, 123, 
 
 286 
 
 MeCaleb of New Orleans, 142 
 (note) 
 
 McCarty, Page, 159 
 McCunn, J. H., 210 
 McDonald, David, 210 
 McIntosh, Sir James, 301, 320, 334 
 Mackall, L. L., 117 (note 1), 118 
 (note 1), 121 (note) 
 
 McKelthan, Dr., 142 (note) 
 Mackenzie, Henry, 284 
 McKinley, William, 218 
 Mackintosh, 288 
 McKnight, George, 143 
 Madison, 42 (note) 
 
 Madison, Isaac, 21, 22 
 Madison, James, 85 (note), 90-93, 
 103, 104, 105, 136, 289, 308, 380 
 Madison, Mrs. James, 92 
 Madison, Mary, 22 
 Magureau, lawyer, 129, 130 
 
 C409] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Mallieureux, President of the Vol¬ 
 unteer Navy, 186, 188 
 Mallory, Secretary of the Navy, 
 157, 233, 241 
 
 Mangum, Willie P., 138 (note) 
 Maria Pavlowna, Duchess of Saxe- 
 Weimar-Eisenach, 116 
 Mars, Mile., 108 
 Marsh, James, 139 (note) 
 
 Marshall, Humphrey, 249 
 Marshall, John, 132 
 Marshall, Thomas, 337, 341, 342, 
 354, 362, 381 
 Martin, Fr. Xavier, 134 
 Martin, William, 57 
 Mason, George, 273 
 Mason, Jeremiah, 134 
 Matthews, Stanley, 215 
 Maurin, Victor, 248, 265 
 Meade, Bishop, 16 (note), 17, 33 
 Meeormick, John, 46 
 Meeorpent, John, 5 
 Mengs, A. R., 314 
 Merry, British Minister, 92 
 Merry, Mrs., 92 
 Messick of Kentucky, 246 
 Metcalfe, Elizabeth Harrison (Mrs. 
 James), 81 (note), 115 
 Milton, John, 97, 285, 292, 339, 396 
 Minnegerode, Dr., 206 
 Mitchell, Dr. John, 62 
 Monroe of Kentucky, 246 
 Monroe, James, 131, 311 
 Montesquieu, 304, 309, 310, 332 
 Montgomery, friend of the South, 
 198 
 
 Moody, Captain, 248, 251, 252, 
 
 257, 259 
 
 Moore, Andrew, 91 
 Moore, Thomas, 194, 333 
 Moorman, Micaj ah, 57 
 Morgan, Lady, 108 
 Morgan, James M., 226, 227 
 Morgan, John H., 182 
 Morgan, Nanne, 5 
 Morse, Isaac E., 139 (note) 
 Morton, Oliver P., 216 
 Mosby, Senator, 78 
 Motley, John Lothrop, 211 
 Munford, B. B., 103 (note) 
 
 Myers, Willie, 157 
 
 Napier, Lord, 322 
 Napier, Patrick, 6, 8 
 Napoleon I, 110 (note), 307 
 Napoleon III, 166 
 Nayler, James, 24 
 Nelson, Thomas, 273 
 Newport, Christopher, 54 
 Newton of Olney, 377 
 Newton, Isaac, 321, 323 
 Niebuhr, B. G., 323 
 Norris, William H., 235 
 Norton, Charles Ledyard, 148 
 Norvell, Anne Harrison (Mrs. Wil¬ 
 liam W.), 81 (note) 
 
 Norvell, Lucy Harrison (Mrs. Lo¬ 
 renzo), 81 (note), 82, 115 
 Norvell, William W., 94, 105, 144 
 (note) 
 
 O’Conor, Charles, 180, 192, 196, 
 197, 198, 201, 202, 203, 206, 210 
 Olney, Peter B., 219 
 Opie, Mrs. A. A., 108 
 Osborn, Charles, 49 
 Otis, Mrs. Harrison Gray, 134 
 Ould, Colonel, 203 
 
 Page, Nelson, 86 
 Page, S. Davis, 191 
 Palfrey, John G., 139 (note) 
 Parker of Virginia, 91 
 Parsons, John E., 210 
 Peabody, Rev. Mr., 133 
 Pendleton, Edmund, 278 
 Penn, William, 24, 26 
 Pereival, James G., 99, 298 
 Pericles, 330 
 Peter the Great, 26 
 Peters, editor of law reports, 134 
 Petrarch, 399 
 Peyton, Bernard, 70 
 Philip II of Spain, 340 
 Philip III of Spain, 365 
 Pickering, John, 139 (note) 
 Pickett, George E., 227 
 Pidgeon, William, 60 
 Pindar, 115 
 
 Pitt, William, 287, 293, 296 
 Pius VIII, 121 
 
 Pleasants, John Hampden, 139 
 (note) 
 
 C410] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Pleasants, Samuel, 16 (note), 63 
 Pliny the Younger, 292 
 Plumer, Peter, 5 
 Plutarch, 284 
 Ponsonby, Lord, 308 
 Pooley, Rev. Grivell, 21-23 
 Pope, Alexander, 279 (note), 286 
 Porter, Alexander, 78, 138 
 Pountes, John, 22 
 Powers, Lelia, 159 
 Pratt, Governor of Maryland, 198, 
 199, 202 
 
 Prescott, William H., 90 
 Preston, William Ballard, 139 
 (note), 140, 341 
 
 Pritchard, Colonel, 257, 260 (see 
 also note), 261, 264, 265, 266 
 Pullman, George M., 211 
 Pulteney, William, 293 
 
 Quincy, Josiah, 110 (note) 
 
 Raguet, Condy, 72 
 Randall, biographer of Jefferson, 
 68 (note) 
 
 Randall, James R., 147 
 Randolph, Mrs. (daughter of 
 Jefferson), 90 
 
 Randolph, Mrs., of Richmond, 159, 
 160 
 
 Randolph, John, of Roanoke, 98, 
 102, 116, 351, 376 
 Randolph, Thomas J., 101, 118 
 (note 1), 131, 341, 378 
 Raphael, 313, 323 
 Ratcliffe, Elizabeth Harrison, 31, 
 36 (note), 41 
 Ratcliffe, Harrison, 41 
 Ratcliffe, Mary Bates, 31 
 Ratcliffe, Sarah Bates, 31 
 Ratcliffe, William, 36 (note) 
 Rauch, sculptor, 119 (note) 
 
 Raynal, 330 
 
 Reagan, Postmaster-General, 152, 
 157, 233, 240, 251 (note), 253, 
 
 259 (note) 
 
 Red Jacket, 114 
 
 Redman, Dr. John, 63 (note) 
 
 Reed, Joseph, 143 
 
 Reed, William B., 198, 202 
 
 Reed, Mrs. William B., 198 
 
 Regulus, 273 
 
 Reid, Thomas, 320 
 
 Retz, Cardinal de, 97 
 
 Rice, John Holt, 84, 139 (note) 
 
 Riemer, 121 (note) 
 
 Rives, Senator, 78 
 
 Rives, William Cabell, 109, 123, 
 
 139 (note) 
 
 Rives family, 25 (note) 
 
 Robertson, Dr., 247 
 
 Robinson, Martha Harrison (Mrs. 
 
 Robert), 81 (note) 
 
 Rodes, General, 80 (note) 
 
 Rogers, Samuel, 123 
 Rogers, Woodes, 194 (note) 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, 135 (note), 
 209, 210 
 
 Roselius, Christian, 139 (note) 
 Rush, Benjamin, 62, 64 (note), 
 
 65 (note) 
 
 Rush, Richard, 109 
 Russel, writer, 366 (note 1) 
 
 Russell, William, 36 
 Rutherford, Emily, 155 
 Ryon of Cumberland, 47 
 
 Saalfeld, Professor, 115 
 St. Martin, Jules, 238, 243 
 Sales, Francis, 103 
 Sallust, 97 
 
 Samuels, Samuel, 211, 212 
 Sandys, translator of Ovid, 279 
 (note) 
 
 Sandys, George, 22 
 Santander, 123 
 Saunders, Dr., 78, 79 
 Saxe-Weimar, Duchess of, 111 
 Schamp of Paris, 111 
 Schiller, Friedrich, 323 
 Schlegel, A. W. von, 112, 323, 327 
 Schoepf, Albin Francisco, 171, 178, 
 190, 191 
 
 Schoepf, Burton Harrison, 178,191 
 Schofield, John M., 181, 235, 236 
 Schurz, Carl, 94 
 Schuyler, Eugene, 191 
 Scott, lawsuit against Jefferson, 66 
 Scott, Walter, 194, 240, 284, 333 
 Scott, Winfield, 109 
 Selborne, Lord Chancellor, 237 
 (note) 
 
 C411I1 
 
INDEX 
 
 Seligman, Joseph, 213 
 Semmes, Raphael, 228 
 Semmes, Mrs. Thomas J., 158, 159 
 Seneca, 315 
 
 Shakespeare, 21, 292, 303, 327 
 Shannon, Sam, 153, 154, 159 
 Sharkey, William L., 179, 186 
 Shaw, Thomas, 5 
 Shea, 201, 202 
 
 Sheridan, Philip H., 225, 226 
 Sheridan, Richard Brinsley, 304 
 Sherman, W. T., 163, 226, 232, 240, 
 245, 248 
 
 Skipwiths, 107 (note) 
 
 Smith, Adam, 284, 296, 350, 390 
 Smith, Burton, 80 (note) 
 
 Smith, Hoke, 80 (note) 
 
 Smith, John Adams, 108 
 Smith, Kirby, 244 
 Smith, Roger, 22 
 Smith, Samuel, 36 
 Socrates, 323 
 Somers, Sir George, 20 
 Sontag, Henriette, 108 
 Southampton, Earl of, 279 
 Speed, Attorney-General, 185, 187, 
 196, 204 
 
 Spencer, Jefferson Davis’s servant, 
 231 
 
 Spenser, Edmund, 292 
 Spiegel, Madame de, 127 
 Spottswood, Governor, 44 
 (note) 
 
 Stael, Madame de, 274, 304, 310 
 Stanton, E. M., 179, 180, 186, 187, 
 200, 242 (note), 265 
 Stearns, Asahel, 87 
 Stephens, Alexander H., 250 
 Stetson, Francis Lynde, 219 
 Stevens, Thaddeus, 201 (see also 
 note) 
 
 Stewart, T. Scott, 212 
 Stickney, lawyer, 210 
 Stieler, K. J., 117 (see also 
 note 2) 
 
 Stith, 279 
 
 Stockwell, Alden B., 211 
 Stoneman, George, 233, 240, 241 
 Story, Thomas, 26, 27, 29, 30 
 Strachey, William, 54 
 Stratton, Joseph, 57 
 
 Stuart, J. E. B., 157, 159 
 Sulser, Mrs. George W., 143, 150, 
 177, 189, 214 
 Sumner, Charles, 211 
 Surratt, Miss, 162, 163, 166, 168 
 Surratt, Mrs., 168, 170 
 Sutherlin, Major, 227, 228 
 
 Tabb, William B., 155, 157 
 Tacitus, 287, 292 
 Taglioni, dancer, 108 
 Talleyrand, 108, 141, 306 
 Tarleton, Colonel, 56 
 Tayloes, 107 (note) 
 
 Taylor, John, of Caroline, 344, 351 
 Taylor, Richard, 259 (note) 
 Tennyson, Alfred, 166, 172, 239 
 Terence, 136 
 
 Thackeray, W. M., 118 (note 2) 
 Thomas, Edward, 29 (see also 
 note) 
 
 Thompson, Mrs., painter, 178 
 Thorburn, Charles E., 253, 256, 
 
 259 (note), 263 
 
 Ticknor, George, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 
 90, 103, 106, 112, 113, 114, 116, 
 134 
 
 Ticknor, Mrs. George, 89 
 Tieek, Ludwig, 327 
 Tilden, Samuel J., 214, 215, 216, 
 217 
 
 Toombs, Robert, 249, 250 
 Torlonia, Duke of Bracciano, 120 
 Torrey, Joseph, 139 (note) 
 Trenholm, Secretary of the Trea¬ 
 sury, 226, 232, 244, 248 
 Trist, Nicholas P., 90, 131, 135, 
 139 (note) 
 
 Tucker, George, 139 (note) 
 
 Tucker, Thomas J., 132 
 Tully, 325 
 
 Underwood, John C., 196, 199, 204 
 
 Van Buren, Martin, 106, 135, 136, 
 137 
 
 Van Cott, lawyer, 210 
 Verone of Germantown, 44, 45 
 Vinci, Da, 314 
 Voltaire, 16, 304 
 
 C412] 
 
INDEX 
 
 Walker, writer, 133 
 Walker, Timothy, 139 ( note ) 
 Walley, George Phillipps, 220 
 (note) 
 
 Walmsley, Professor, 201 (note) 
 Walsh, Robert, 112, 139 (note) 
 Walter, Father, 167 
 Walton of New Orleans, 176 
 Warden, D. B., 139 (note) 
 
 Warren, Gouverneur K., 226 
 (note 1) 
 
 Warters, William, 45 
 Washington, Bushrod, 20 (note) 
 Washington, George, 20 (note), 
 
 36, 91, 114, 143 
 
 Washington, Lawrence, 20 (note) 
 Washington, W. D., 159 
 Watts, Beaufort, 109 
 Webb, writer, 20 
 Webster, Daniel, 89, 90, 98, 133, 
 134, 135 
 
 Webster, Lucy Harrison Bates, 51, 
 52 
 
 Webster, Noah, 119 
 Wedemeyer, Mrs., 114 
 Weeks, writer, 24 (note 1), 40 
 (note) 
 
 Weil of Charlotte, 227, 242 
 Wellington, Duke of, 307 
 Welsh, friend of the South, 198 
 Wesley, John, 17 
 Westmoreland, Earl of, 123 
 White, Justice, 137 
 White, Edward D., 137 
 White, Hugh L., 135, 137 
 
 Whitgreave, 6 
 Whitlockes, 3 
 Whitney, William C., 219 
 Wigfall, Senator from Texas, 247 
 (see also note) 
 
 Wiggins of Brownsville, 49 
 Wigglesworth, Edward, 139 
 (note), 142 (note) 
 
 Wilberforce, William, 393 
 Wilkins, John, 295 
 Williams, John S., 246 
 Williams, Sherrod, 137 
 Wilson, General, 265, 266 
 Wilson, Senator from Massachu¬ 
 setts, 200 
 
 Wilson, Alexander, 114 
 Winston, Mary Jordan, 32 
 Winstons, 32 
 
 Winthrop, Buchanan, 218 (note), 
 219 
 
 Wirt, William, 133 
 
 Wise, John S., 155, 228 (note 1) 
 
 Wolfe, James, 194 (note) 
 
 Wood, John Taylor, 232, 233, 242, 
 253, 256, 259 (see also note), 261, 
 263 
 
 Woolson, John, 36 
 Wordsworth, William, 301 
 Wyatt, Governor, 22 
 Wyatt, R., 317 
 Wythe, Chancellor, 93 
 Wythe, George, 273 
 
 Yancy, 78 
 
 Yeardley, Sir George, 22, 23 
 
 [ 413 ] 
 

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