Thirty Years' View (Vol. I of 2)

CHAPTER CXI.

DOWNFALL OF THE BANK OF THE UNITED STATES

When the author of the Æneid had shown the opening grandeur of Rome, he deemed himself justified in departing from the chronological order of events to look ahead, and give a glimpse of the dead Marcellus, hope and heir of the Augustan empire; in the like manner the writer of this View, after having shown the greatness of the United States Bank – exemplified in her capacity to have Jackson condemned – the government directors and a secretary of the treasury rejected – a committee of the House of Representatives repulsed – the country convulsed and agonized – and to obtain from the Senate of the United States a committee to proceed to the city of Philadelphia to "wash out its foul linen;" – after seeing all this and beholding the greatness of the moneyed power at the culminating point of its domination, I feel justified in looking ahead a few years to see it in its altered phase – in its ruined and fallen estate. And this shall be done in the simplest form of exhibition; namely: by copying some announcements from the Philadelphia papers of the day. Thus: 1. "Resolved (by the stockholders), that it is expedient for the Bank of the United States to make a general assignment of the real and personal estate, goods and chattels, rights and credits, whatsoever, and wheresoever, of the said corporation, to five persons, for the payment or securing of the debts of the same – agreeably to the provisions of the acts of Assembly of this commonwealth (Pennsylvania)." 2. "It is known that measures have been taken to rescue the property of this shattered institution from impending peril, and to recover as much as possible of those enormous bounties which it was conceded had been paid by its late managers to trading politicians and mercenary publishers for corrupt services, rendered to it during its charter-seeking and electioneering campaigns." 3. "The amount of the suit instituted by the Bank of the United States against Mr. N. Biddle is $1,018,000, paid out during his administration, for which no vouchers can be found." 4. "The United States Bank is a perfect wreck, and is seemingly the prey of the officers and their friends, which are making away with its choicest assets by selling them to each other, and taking pay in the depreciated paper of the South." 5. "Besides its own stock of 35,000,000, which is sunk, the bank carries down with it a great many other institutions and companies, involving a loss of about 21,000,000 more – making a loss of 56,000,000 – besides injuries to individuals." 6. "There is no price for the United States Bank stock. Some shares are sold, but as lottery tickets would be. The mass of the stockholders stand, and look on, as passengers on a ship that is going down, and from which there is no escape." 7. "By virtue of a writ of venditioni exponas, directed to the sheriff of the city and county of Philadelphia, will be exposed to public sale to the highest bidder, on Friday, the 4th day of November next, the marble house and the grounds known as the Bank of the United States, &c." 8. "By virtue of a writ of levari facias, to me directed, will be exposed to public sale the estate known as 'Andalusia,' ninety-nine and a half acres, one of the most highly improved places in Philadelphia; the mansion-house, and out-houses and offices, all on the most splendid scale; the green-houses, hot-houses, and conservatories, extensive and useful; taken as the property of Nicholas Biddle." 9. "To the honorable Court of General Sessions. The grand jury for the county of Philadelphia, respectfully submit to the court, on their oaths and affirmations, that certain officers connected with the United States Bank, have been guilty of a gross violation of the law – colluding together to defraud those stockholders who had trusted their property to be preserved by them. And that there is good ground to warrant a prosecution of such persons for criminal offences, which the grand jury do now present to the court, and ask that the attorney-general be directed to send up for the action of the grand jury, bills of indictment against Nicholas Biddle, Samuel Jaudon, John Andrews, and others, to the grand jury unknown, for a conspiracy to defraud the stockholders in the Bank of the United States of the sums of, &c." 10. "Bills of indictment have been found against Nicholas Biddle, Samuel Jaudon and John Andrews, according to the presentment of the grand jury; and bench warrants issued, which have been executed upon them." 11. "Examination of Nicholas Biddle, and others, before Recorder Vaux. Yesterday afternoon the crowd and excitement in and about the court-room where the examination was to take place was even greater than the day before. The court-room doors were kept closed up to within a few minutes of four o'clock, the crowd outside blocking up every avenue leading to the room. When the doors were thrown open it was immediately filled to overflowing. At four the Recorder took his seat, and announcing that he was ready to proceed, the defendants were called, and severally answered to their names, &c." 12. "On Tuesday, the 18th, the examination of Nicholas Biddle and others, was continued, and concluded; and the Recorder ordered, that Nicholas Biddle, Thomas Dunlap, John Andrews, Samuel Jaudon, and Joseph Cowperthwaite, each enter into a separate recognizance, with two or more sufficient sureties, in the sum of $10,000, for their appearance at the present session of the court of general sessions for the city and county of Philadelphia, to answer the crime of which they thus stand charged." 13. "Nicholas Biddle and those indicted with him have been carried upon writs of habeas corpus before the Judges Barton, Conrad, and Doran, and discharged from the custody of the sheriff." 14. "The criminal proceedings against these former officers of the Bank of the United States have been brought to a close. To get rid of the charges against them without trial of the facts against them, before a jury, they had themselves surrendered by their bail, and sued out writs of habeas corpus for the release of their persons. The opinions of the judges, the proceedings having been concluded, were delivered yesterday. The opinions of Judges Barton and Conrad was for their discharge; that of Judge Doran was unfavorable. They were accordingly discharged. The indignation of the community is intense against this escape from the indictments without jury trials."

CHAPTER CXII.

DEATH OF JOHN RANDOLPH, OF ROANOAKE

He died at Philadelphia in the summer of 1833 – the scene of his early and brilliant apparition on the stage of public life, having commenced his parliamentary career in that city, under the first Mr. Adams, when Congress sat there, and when he was barely of an age to be admitted into the body. For more than thirty years he was the political meteor of Congress, blazing with undiminished splendor during the whole time, and often appearing as the "planetary plague" which shed, not war and pestilence on nations, but agony and fear on members. His sarcasm was keen, refined, withering – with a great tendency to indulge in it; but, as he believed, as a lawful parliamentary weapon to effect some desirable purpose. Pretension, meanness, vice, demagogism, were the frequent subjects of the exercise of his talent; and, when confined to them, he was the benefactor of the House. Wit and genius all allowed him; sagacity was a quality of his mind visible to all observers – and which gave him an intuitive insight into the effect of measures. During the first six years of Mr. Jefferson's administration, he was the "Murat" of his party, brilliant in the charge, and always ready for it; and valued in the council, as well as in the field. He was long the chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means – a place always of labor and responsibility, and of more then than now, when the elements of revenue were less abundant; and no man could have been placed in that situation during Mr. Jefferson's time whose known sagacity was not a pledge for the safety of his lead in the most sudden and critical circumstances. He was one of those whom that eminent statesman habitually consulted during the period of their friendship, and to whom he carefully communicated his plans before they were given to the public. On his arrival at Washington at the opening of each session of Congress during this period, he regularly found waiting for him at his established lodgings – then Crawford's, Georgetown – the card of Mr. Jefferson, with an invitation for dinner the next day; a dinner at which the leading measures of the ensuing session were the principal topic. Mr. Jefferson did not treat in that way a member in whose sagacity he had not confidence.

It is not just to judge such a man by ordinary rules, nor by detached and separate incidents in his life. To comprehend him, he must be judged as a whole – physically and mentally – and under many aspects, and for his entire life. He was never well – a chronic victim of ill health from the cradle to the grave. A letter from his most intimate and valued friend, Mr. Macon, written to me after his death, expressed the belief that he had never enjoyed during his life one day of perfect health – such as well people enjoy. Such life-long suffering must have its effect on the temper and on the mind; and it had on his – bringing the temper often to the querulous mood, and the state of his mind sometimes to the question of insanity; a question which became judicial after his death, when the validity of his will came to be contested. I had my opinion on the point, and gave it responsibly, in a deposition duly taken, to be read on the trial of the will; and in which a belief in his insanity, at several specified periods, was fully expressed – with the reasons for the opinion. I had good opportunities of forming an opinion, living in the same house with him several years, having his confidence, and seeing him at all hours of the day and night. It also on several occasions became my duty to study the question, with a view to govern my own conduct under critical circumstances. Twice he applied to me to carry challenges for him. It would have been inhuman to have gone out with a man not in his right mind, and critical to one's self, as any accident on the ground might seriously compromise the second. My opinion was fixed, of occasional temporary aberrations of mind; and during such periods he would do and say strange things – but always in his own way – not only method, but genius in his fantasies: nothing to bespeak a bad heart, but only exaltation and excitement. The most brilliant talk that I ever heard from him came forth on such occasions – a flow for hours (at one time seven hours), of copious wit and classic allusion – a perfect scattering of the diamonds of the mind. I heard a friend remark on one of these occasions, "he has wasted intellectual jewelry enough here this evening to equip many speakers for great orations." I once sounded him on the delicate point of his own opinion of himself: – of course when he was in a perfectly natural state, and when he had said something to permit an approach to such a subject. It was during his last visit to Washington, two winters before he died. It was in my room, in the gloom of the evening light, as the day was going out and the lamps not lit – no one present but ourselves – he reclining on a sofa, silent and thoughtful, speaking but seldom, and I only in reply, I heard him repeat, as if to himself, those lines from Johnson, (which in fact I had often heard from him before), on "Senility and Imbecility," which show us life under its most melancholy form.

"In life's last scenes what prodigies surprise,Fears of the brave, and follies of the wise!From Marlborough's eyes the streams of dotage flow,And Swift expires, a driveller and a show."

When he had thus repeated these lines, which he did with deep feeling and in slow and measured cadence, I deemed it excusable to make a remark of a kind which I had never ventured on before; and said: Mr. Randolph I have several times heard you repeat these lines, as if they could have an application to yourself, while no person can have less reason to fear the fate of Swift. I said this to sound him, and to see what he thought of himself. His answer was: "I have lived in dread of insanity." That answer was the opening of a sealed book – revealed to me the source of much mental agony that I had seen him undergo. I did deem him in danger of the fate of Swift, and from the same cause as judged by his latest and greatest biographer, Sir Walter Scott.

His parliamentary life was resplendent in talent – elevated in moral tone – always moving on the lofty line of honor and patriotism, and scorning every thing mean and selfish. He was the indignant enemy of personal and plunder legislation, and the very scourge of intrigue and corruption. He reverenced an honest man in the humblest garb, and scorned the dishonest, though plated with gold. An opinion was propagated that he was fickle in his friendships. Certainly there were some capricious changes; but far more instances of steadfast adherence. His friendship with Mr. Macon was historic. Their names went together in life – live together in death – and are honored together, most by those who knew them best. With Mr. Tazewell, his friendship was still longer than that with Mr. Macon, commencing in boyhood, and only ending with life. So of many others; and pre-eminently so of his neighbors and constituents – the people of his congressional district – affectionate as well as faithful to him; electing him as they did, from boyhood to the grave. No one felt more for friends, or was more solicitous and anxious at the side of the sick and dying bed. Love of wine was attributed to him; and what was mental excitement, was referred to deep potations. It was a great error. I never saw him affected by wine – not even to the slightest departure from the habitual and scrupulous decorum of his manners. His temper was naturally gay and social, and so indulged when suffering of mind and body permitted. He was the charm of the dinner-table, where his cheerful and sparkling wit delighted every ear, lit up every countenance, and detained every guest. He was charitable; but chose to conceal the hand that ministered relief. I have often seen him send little children out to give to the poor.

He was one of the large slaveholders of Virginia, but disliked the institution, and, when let alone, opposed its extension. Thus, in 1803, when as chairman of the committee which reported upon the Indiana memorial for a temporary dispensation from the anti-slavery part of the ordinance of 1787, he puts the question upon a statesman's ground; and reports against it, in a brief and comprehensive argument:

"That the rapid population of the State of Ohio sufficiently evinces, in the opinion of your committee, that the labor of the slave is not necessary to promote the growth and settlement of colonies in that region. That this labor, demonstrably the dearest of any, can only be employed to advantage in the cultivation of products more valuable than any known to that quarter of the United States: and the committee deem it highly dangerous and inexpedient to impair a provision wisely calculated to promote the happiness and prosperity of the northwestern country, and to give strength and security to that extensive frontier. In the salutary operation of this sagacious and benevolent restraint, it is believed that the inhabitants of Indiana will, at no very distant day, find ample remuneration for a temporary privation of labor and emigration."

He was against slavery; and by his will, both manumitted and provided for the hundreds which he held. But he was against foreign interference with his rights, his feelings, or his duties; and never failed to resent and rebuke such interference. Thus, he was one of the most zealous of the opposers of the proposed Missouri restriction; and even voted against the divisional line of "thirty-six thirty." In the House, when the term "slaveholder" would be reproachfully used, he would assume it, and refer to a member, not in the parliamentary phrase of colleague, but in the complimentary title of "my fellow-slaveholder." And, in London, when the consignees of his tobacco, and the slave factors of his father, urged him to liberate his slaves, he quieted their intrusive philanthropy, on the spot, by saying, "Yes: you buy and set free to the amount of the money you have received from my father and his estate for these slaves, and I will set free an equal number."

In his youth and later age, he fought duels: in his middle life, he was against them; and, for a while, would neither give nor receive a challenge. He was under religious convictions to the contrary, but finally yielded (as he believed) to an argument of his own, that a duel was private war, and rested upon the same basis as public war; and that both were allowable, when there was no other redress for insults and injuries. That was his argument; but I thought his relapse came more from feeling than reason; and especially from the death of Decatur, to whom he was greatly attached, and whose duel with Barron long and greatly excited him. He had religious impressions, and a vein of piety which showed itself more in private than in external observances. He was habitual in his reverential regard for the divinity of our religion; and one of his beautiful expressions was, that, "If woman had lost us paradise, she had gained us heaven." The Bible and Shakespeare were, in his latter years, his constant companions – travelling with him on the road – remaining with him in the chamber. The last time I saw him (in that last visit to Washington, after his return from the Russian mission, and when he was in full view of death) I heard him read the chapter in the Revelations (of the opening of the seals), with such power and beauty of voice and delivery, and such depth of pathos, that I felt as if I had never heard the chapter read before. When he had got to the end of the opening of the sixth seal, he stopped the reading, laid the book (open at the place) on his breast, as he lay on his bed, and began a discourse upon the beauty and sublimity of the Scriptural writings, compared to which he considered all human compositions vain and empty. Going over the images presented by the opening of the seals, he averred that their divinity was in their sublimity – that no human power could take the same images, and inspire the same awe and terror, and sink ourselves into such nothingness in the presence of the "wrath of the Lamb" – that he wanted no proof of their divine origin but the sublime feelings which they inspired.

CHAPTER CXIII.

DEATH OF MR. WIRT

He died at the age of sixty-two, after having reached a place in the first line at the Virginia bar, where there were such lawyers as Wickham, Tazewell, Watkins Leigh; and a place in the front rank of the bar of the Supreme Court, where there were such jurists as Webster and Pinkney; and after having attained the high honor of professional preferment in the appointment of Attorney General of the United States under the administration of Mr. Monroe. His life contains instructive lessons. Born to no advantages of wealth or position, he raised himself to what he became by his own exertions. In danger of falling into a fatal habit in early life, he retrieved himself (touched by the noble generosity of her who afterwards became his admired and beloved wife), from the brink of the abyss, and became the model of every domestic virtue; with genius to shine without labor, he yet considered genius nothing without labor, and gave through life a laborious application to the study of the law as a science, and to each particular case in which he was ever employed. The elegant pursuits of literature occupied the moments taken from professional studies and labors, and gave to the reading public several admired productions, of which the long-desired and beautiful "Life of Patrick Henry," was the most considerable: a grateful commemoration of Virginia's greatest orator, which has been justly repaid to one of her first class orators, by Mr. Kennedy of Maryland, in his classic "Life of William Wirt." How grateful to see citizens, thus engaged in laborious professions, snatching moments from their daily labors to do justice to the illustrious dead – to enlighten posterity by their history, and encourage it by their example. Worthy of his political and literary eminence, and its most shining and crowning ornament, was the state of his domestic relations – exemplary in every thing that gives joy and decorum to the private family, and rewarded with every blessing which could result from such relations. But, why use this feeble pen, when the voice of Webster is at hand? Mr. Wirt died during the term of the Supreme Court, his revered friend, the Chief Justice Marshall, still living to preside, and to give, in touching language, the order to spread the proceedings of the bar (in relation to his death) upon the records of the court. At the bar meeting, which adopted these proceedings, Mr. Webster thus paid the tribute of justice and affection to one with whom professional rivalry had been the source and cement of personal friendship:

"It is announced to us that one of the oldest, one of the ablest, one of the most distinguished members of this bar, has departed this mortal life. William Wirt is no more! He has this day closed a professional career, among the longest and the most brilliant, which the distinguished members of the profession in the United States have at any time accomplished. Unsullied in every thing which regards professional honor and integrity, patient of labor, and rich in those stores of learning, which are the reward of patient labor and patient labor only; and if equalled, yet certainly allowed not to be excelled, in fervent, animated and persuasive eloquence, he has left an example which those who seek to raise themselves to great heights of professional eminence, will, hereafter emulously study. Fortunate, indeed, will be the few, who shall imitate it successfully!

"As a public man, it is not our peculiar duty to speak of Mr. Wirt here. His character in that respect belongs to his country, and to the history of his country. And, sir, if we were to speak of him in his private life, and in his social relations, all we could possibly say of his urbanity, his kindness, the faithfulness of his friendships, and the warmth of his affections, would hardly seem sufficiently strong and glowing to do him justice, in the feeling and judgment of those who, separated, now forever from his embraces can only enshrine his memory in their bleeding hearts. Nor may we, sir, more than allude to that other relation, which belonged to him, and belongs to us all; that high and paramount relation, which connects man with his Maker! It may be permitted us, however, to have the pleasure of recording his name, as one who felt a deep sense of religious duty, and who placed all his hopes of the future, in the truth and in the doctrines of Christianity.

"But our particular ties to him were the ties of our profession. He was our brother, and he was our friend. With talents powerful enough to excite the strength of the strongest, with a kindness both of heart and of manner capable of warming and winning the coldest of his brethren, he has now completed the term of his professional life, and of his earthly existence, in the enjoyment of the high respect and cordial affections of us all. Let us, then, sir, hasten to pay to his memory the well-deserved tribute of our regard. Let us lose no time in testifying our sense of our loss, and in expressing our grief, that one great light of our profession is extinguished forever."

CHAPTER CXIV.

DEATH OF THE LAST OF THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE

On the morning of July 4th, 1826 – just fifty years after the event – but three of the fifty-six members of the continental Congress of 1776 who had signed the Declaration of Independence, remained alive; on the evening of that day there remained but one – Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, Maryland; then a full score beyond the Psalmist's limit of manly life, and destined to a further lease of six good years. It has been remarked of the "signers of the Declaration" that a felicitous existence seems to have been reserved for them; blessed with long life and good health, honored with the public esteem, raised to the highest dignities of the States and of the federal government, happy in their posterity, and happy in the view of the great and prosperous country which their labors had brought into existence. Among these, so felicitous and so illustrious, he was one of the most happy, and among the most distinguished. He enjoyed the honors of his pure and patriot life in all their forms; age, and health, and mind, for sixteen years beyond that fourscore which brings labor and sorrow and weakness to man; ample fortune; public honors in filling the highest offices of his State, and a seat in the Senate of the United States; private enjoyment in an honorable and brilliant posterity. Born to fortune, and to the care of wise and good parents, he had all the advantages of education which the colleges of France and the "Inns of Court" of London could give. With every thing to lose in unsuccessful rebellion, he risked all from the first opening of the contest with the mother country: and when he walked up to the secretary's table to sign the paper, which might become a death-warrant to its authors, the remark was made, "there go some millions." And his signing was a privilege, claimed and granted. He was not present at the declaration. He was not even a member of Congress on the memorable Fourth of July. He was in Annapolis on that day, a member of the Maryland Assembly, and zealously engaged in urging a revocation of the instructions which limited the Maryland delegates in the continental Congress to obtaining a redress of grievances without breaking the connection with the mother country. He succeeded – was appointed a delegate – flew to his post – and added his name to the patriot list.