(in which I think I am not,) General Jackson will held the power of fixing the desired union. be elected on the first ballot. It is true, Maryland On him, therefore, as is well known, all and Louisiana are now said to be divided, but I doubt not they will unite on Jackson, which, with eyes were eagerly fastened. It was known the Western States, secures his success, inasmuch that he viewed Jackson with unfeigned disas he would have New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ma- trust, that he had held him amenable to the ryland, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, censure of Congress for lawless and unconLouisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, Indiana, Illinois, stitutional conduct as an officer of the army, and Missouri. New-York is yet settled for no one. him We count sixteen, certain. We want two to make that he never hesitated to pronounce a majority, and these we shall get, as I am told by to be unfit for civil office, and that he had an intelligent member, Mr. Clarke, upon whose already expressed a determination not to judgment I would sooner rely than on Van vote for him. Jackson never expected him Buren's. "Should one or two Western States withhold their vote from Jackson, Crawford's election is probable. The New-England States are in excessive alarm. We have told them that Mr. Adams has no right to calculate on any support from us. This is in some measure true. Jackson's strength is such that Adams can gain nothing from him. The Yankees are determined that a President shall be made. "New-Jersey is willing to join us, if success becomes probable, and I am assured that five out of six of New-England will do so too, when Adams's prospects are blasted. Should Crawford be elected, it will be by a combination of Maine, NewHampshire, Rhode Island, Massachusetts, Connecticut, New-Jersey, Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, Georgia, Mississippi, Missouri, Kentucky or Ohio. Delaware, Virginia, North Carolina, and Georgia have nailed their flag, and will sink with the ship. New-England, if they wish to prevent the election of Jackson, (and they say they do,) must come to us, for we will not go to them. Colonel Benton is active in our cause, and is likely to do us good. Could we hit upon a few great principles, and unite their support with that of Crawford, we should succeed beyond doubt. But the fact is, we are as much divided as any other people. On the whole, I do not feel alarmed, though am not confident. Here they call me croaker. I will not express a confidence which I do I say not feel." This letter speaks for itself, and unfolds much that is interesting in connection with the history of that memorable contest. Congress had now been more than six weeks in session, and yet there had been no developments which could point the result, even to the most sagacious. There was, indeed, much to cause Cobb's expression of "mysterious and doubtful," because, so nicely balanced was the apparent strength of Adams and Crawford, that the Clay party were unable to decide which would prove the most available to defeat, by a united movement, the election of Andrew Jackson. Thus much, it would seem, the majority had resolved to do from the beginning of the strife; but that majority was scattered among three distinct and unfriendly parties, and Clay to do so, and with his usual frankness had caused it to be proclaimed that such a vote by Clay "would be an act of duplicity." But the Legislature of Kentucky had instructed him to sustain Jackson, and the Jackson party, therefore, built up high hopes. But they little knew the man with whom they were dealing, if they ever supposed that such instructions would guide him any further than they might comport with his own judgment. He took, and has ever maintained the ground that the Legislature had no right to instruct him, and that he felt no more respect for such instructions coming from the Legislature, than from any other assemblage of his fellow-citizens. Under these circumstances, therefore, he was forced to make a choice between Crawford and Adams. Still, the friends of Jackson did not cease to importune him with their efforts to obtain his support and influence for their favorite. It has even been shown that some of them advised and recommended an arrangement by which Clay should be tempted into his support by the allurements of high office, in case Jackson was made President. On the contrary, there has never been exhibited the least shadow of proof that the friends of Adams or Crawford made overtures of any character to Clay or to any of his friends. That both of these were anxious to secure his coöperation by all legitimate means, there can be no doubt. There is some reason to think that Clay's inclination, as well from their personal as political associations, rather impelled him to a preference for Crawford. But his stern temperament has never been warped by private preference contrary to his sense of public duty. His disposition is marked rather with the severe attributes of Roman character, than with the flexile impulses of the softer tempered Greek. We have seen already that Crawford's health was extremely precarious, and that Western members had been urging this as a reason why they ought not to support him in preference to Adams. His illness, and the serious afflictions with which he had been visited, were well known to Clay. He spoke of them often, and always with unfeigned kindness and sympathy. Anxious and interested partisans had, it is true, sent abroad through the country very exaggerated accounts of his convalescence and improving state of health, but in Washington the whole truth was known. But his immediate friends attempted no concealment, although they were sincere in the belief that he was rapidly growing better, and would soon be sufficiently restored to enter profitably into the discharge of any official duty to which he might be called. Under this illusory impression, in order as well to confute the malicious as to convince and persuade the doubtful, they resolved upon a course which, though corroborative of their sincerity, resulted fatally to their hopes and expectations. It had been now a long time since Crawford had mingled with the public. He had not been present at any of the numerous festive and social meetings for which this season is famous. To drawing-rooms and soirées he was an utter stranger. Only a select and intimate few were in the habit of visiting him, even at his home. A few days previous to the time of election, however, and to the surprise of nearly all Washington, his friends conveyed him to the Capitol, and kept him there in company for several hours. The old man looked much better than was generally expected, and deported himself with accustomed amenity and dignity. Many who saw him only from a distance, were most agreeably disappointed. Those with whom he shook hands and spoke, however, were observed to leave him with grave faces, and with all the signs and tokens of a melancholy interview. Among these last was Clay himself; and it was afterwards remarked by one of Crawford's friends, who was present, that his manner on that occasion told plainly enough that their hopes of his coöperation and support were at an end. "Defects were but too evident," as Cobb had written to his friends, and these sounded the funeral knell to his chances for the Presidency. The contest was at length narrowed down to the issue between Adams and Jackson, as nearly every one had, from the first, predicted it would be. Parties still continued immovable and uncertain. It was difficult to tell where either had lost, or where either had gained. Calhoun had been elected Vice-President by a large majority, and refused to take part or mingle in the election either way. He was known, however, to be bitterly opposed to Crawford, and he afterwards declared that he had no preference as between Adams and Jackson, though his friends were already zealous for the latter. Clay maintained a steady and decorous reserve, which many whose anxieties were zealously excited, characterized as mysterious and politic. The Crawford party no longer expected his coöperation, and the Adams party, relying on his well-known distrust of Jackson, and fully informed of Crawford's wretched health, confined their electioneering efforts to an intercourse marked only by cordiality and respect. There is not on record the least particle of evidence that they ever made any overtures to Clay's friends, or approached himself improperly. But the partisans of Jackson pursued a different policy altogether. It is in proof, on their own testimony, that prominent members of their party consulted frequently as to the propriety of coaxing Clay's friends to support Jackson by an intimation that, in the event of the latter's election, the "second office of the government" would be tendered to Clay. They even went so far, in guarding against the rumor that Jackson had declared his intention of continuing Adams in the State Department in case of election, to persuade Jackson to allow them to announce publicly and by his authority, that he had made no such declaration, that he had not decided as to any official appointments, and that, if elected President, he should be free to fill the offices of government as he chose. While doing this much, however, Jackson took very especial pains to denounce all attempts at intrigue or improper collusions, and expressed himself with characteristic emphasis and honesty of purpose. We must candidly say that we believe Jackson himself was intent on running the race with Adams for the Presidency fairly and independently; although we must further say that his subsequent conduct showed a vindictiveness that is wholly irreconcilable with the general frankness and manliness of his disposition. It has not transpired whether these decla- | admonished him to do nothing without rations were ever formally communicated to advice. That he was a mere tool of others, the friends of Clay. But when the Jackson is seen by his original letter, in which he party found that Clay's resolution was still makes charges that he afterwards denied fixed not to sustain the pretensions of their were charges of either bargain or bribery, and favorite; that neither persuasion, nor flatter- about which he evidently understood nothing ing intimations, nor attempts to intimi- at all. That he was a vain-glorious blusterer, date could move him from his purpose; is proven by his vaunting reply to Clay's that the star of the hated Adams was card denouncing the charges of his letter as rising to ascendency; that Clay and his false. That he was a driveler, if not a fool, is friends would certainly make Adams the evidenced by his whole subsequent conduct. President, their rage seemed to know no His cringing denials, his bolstered reäffirmabounds. Their execrations were uttered tions in the face of those denials, his verbal without regard to decency or propriety. confessions to Clay's friends, his written stateThen it was that the first hoarse whispers of ments given to Clay's enemies, his challenge the "bargain and intrigue" were heard. before the committee, and his subsequent They were hissed serpent-like through the disgraceful retreat, at one time boasting, at political circles of Washington, though the another time begging, and always blindly venom was first discharged within the bosom obedient to his dictators, all these show clearly of a quiet and obscure rural district in a that he was much better fitted to mould neighboring State. No one doubted then, cheeses and to manufacture sourkrout than no one doubts now, the source from whence to conduct a plot or discuss state affairs. His those charges sprang. It is one of the in- only redeeming quality is to be found in firmities of our nature to judge others by our- Clay's own admission, that "he may have selves. They who had so cautiously dis- possessed native honesty." cussed the policy of illicit overtures within their own cabal, were naturally unable to account for their defeat upon any other than the ground that they had been outbidden by their wittier adversaries. But they directed their attack behind a masked battery, and attempted to resolve the controversy into a personal issue between Clay and an old, simple-minded Pennsylvania Dutchman, by the name of Kremer. Kremer was a member of Congress, and from his character, habits, and standing, was evidently selected with special reference to all these, as the instrument to fire the train of this infernal machine. It seems that he was notorious for ignorance, insignificance, and vulgarity. In his address to the House, Clay alludes to him with a species of kind contempt, implying less of malevolence than scornful indifference; and afterwards he tells his constituents that to have held such a man responsible would have subjected him to universal ridicule. Nobody believed that Kremer composed either his original letter charging Clay with corruption and bribery, or the subsequent elaborate letter which was sent to the committee raised to act on those charges. The only thing he himself did write, which was a positive contradiction of his original charge, was seized and pocketed by one of his friends, who at the same time Such was the man and the instrument which was thrust forward by the contrivers of this atrocious plot to confront and accuse Henry Clay. Having failed to flatter or to frighten him into the support of Jackson, they now assailed him through the more trying medium of his sensibilities. They endeavored to compel his support by leaving to him only a choice between compliance and the chances of political destruction. Their scheme failed as to the first, as every body knows. Clay was not shaken for an instant, but challenged investigation and defied conviction. At the same time he caused his friends to assert publicly and positively, that he had resolved not to sustain Jackson under any circumstances short of the most extreme and improbable necessity. But the conspiracy, especially in view of its subsequent identification with Jackson himself, who endorsed the accusations in the very zenith of his gigantic popularity, did indeed result in the destruction of Clay's chances for the Presidency. The strongest armament of proof that was ever before arrayed in a similar case, (and that, too, the proof of a negative,) has not been sufficient to clear him, before the masses, of these groundless charges. Every effort to make him President, from that day to this, has failed, solely in consequence of the unwelcome fact, that his friends have been met at every corner with these deathless charges of the bargain and intrigue of 1825. It was in vain that they were disproved; that all proof was invited and challenged; that it was shown no proof existed, or ever had existed. One letter of five lines from the Hermitage, containing the mere declaration that the opinions of its revered and idolized master had "undergone no change" on the subject, was enough to confute a world of substantial evidence, and to stamp the baseless charge with the seal of divinity. It is a significant and an instructive fact that the friends of Crawford, so far from aiding and abetting this unworthy attempt to destroy the character of a high-minded opponent, with the view to force him to a course which his judgment and inclination both condemned, accorded to Clay their generous and steadfast support in all attempts which were made to obtain the action of the House on the charges contained in the Kremer letter. Forsyth came zealously to his aid, and put forth in his cause the splendid parliamentary accomplishments and abilities which made him the ornament of Congress. Crawford himself turned his face against the conspiracy, with feelings that appeared to have partaken of both horror and disgust, and afterwards wrote to Clay a letter expressive of surprise that he should ever have been thought capable of believing such charges, and assuring him that he "should have voted just as he did, as between Jackson and Adams." At the same time, the Crawford party, warmly devoted to their chief, never pretended to disguise their hostility to Clay, in consequence of his preference for Adams over their own candidate. They were mostly of a school of politics which repudiated the latitudinous constitutional theories of the day, and considered Adams as being more obdurate and unreliable on such score than Crawford. At length the day of election arrived. It was a cold, stormy day of February. The hall was beset and crowded at an early hour by every class of spectator. Every member was at his post, and the area was jammed with privileged dignitaries, senators, ex-members of Congress, members of State Legislatures, judges, and foreign ambassadors. Doubt was portrayed in every countenance, anxiety throbbed in every bosom. The galleries and lobbies, filled to an excess that almost stifled the eager multitude, presented a solid sea of uncovered heads; nor was there, of so many votes. There being at that time | was there, but the same frigid and callous but twenty-four States of the Union, and a deportment which always belonged to him, majority only required to elect, it appeared that Adams had obtained just the complement, and was, of course, duly and constitutionally elected President of the United States. was not exchanged for a manner of even seeming warmth. The bright and piercing eye alone gave token that deep feeling, and stormy passions, and acerbities of temper that partook of stern Jesuitism, dwelt within. So soon as this result had been officially a bosom to all appearance so impervious made known, there was heard some slight and phlegmatic. The polished amenity and demonstration of applause in one of the gal-winning suavity of Jackson shone in marked leries. McDuffie, a member from South contrast with the less engaging manner of Carolina, and a fierce partisan of the Jackson his successful rival. There was not the faction, sprang to his feet ere scarcely the first slightest symptom of even a lurking disapsounds were distinctly heard, and in a man-pointment observable in his mild, dignified ner that indicated every symptom of anger deportment. He shook hands with and and keen mortification, moved that the gal- congratulated Adams with a cordiality that leries be instantly cleared. This motion, and seemed to defy scrutiny or question. No the corresponding order which was imme- one could have ventured to predict that the diately given by the Speaker, seemed to pro- frank and friendly courtesies of that evening duce great surprise among the foreigners would so soon be exchanged for a personal present, in view of the immense and excited warfare, vindictive beyond what has ever crowd which filled the hall. It seemed to occurred in the history of the republic. Yet them incredible that such an order at such no one will now question but that Jackson's a time could be carried out, and that, too, by behavior on that occasion was forced and an invisible force. But their surprise was insincere, and that his bosom was even then lulled, and their incredulity satisfied com- burning with wrath and the desire of venpletely, when the Sergeant-at-arms proceed-geance. How these were afterwards wreaked ed quietly to motion the crowd to the doors, and when that crowd quietly obeyed; and all skepticism, if any had really been entertained, as to the binding influence of law in the absence of physical force, must instantly have vanished, when, in a few moments, those spacious seats, which were so recently teeming with conscious, anxious spectators, presented nothing to the eye but the magnificent colonnade, and the long rows of empty benches. The House now soon adjourned, and every body quitted the Capitol, some filled with joy, and others struggling to conceal the defeat of expectations which had been more fed by hope than by reason. The important question had been irretrievably decided by a first vote, notwithstanding that many had anticipated that a struggle similar to that of 1801 was about to occur again. On the evening of the same day, the drawing-rooms of the Presidential mansion were thrown open, and all Washington flocked to witness the scene. The gathering was brilliant beyond parallel or precedent; and amid the universal exhibition of good feeling and apparent vivacity, it was difficult for a stranger to distinguish the victors in the morning's contest from the vanquished. Adams against both Adams and Clay, history has told with a particularity of detail more truthful than welcome. Crawford was not present; disposition and tastes would have withheld him from going, even had his state of health allowed. Besides, the result of the morning's contest had both astonished and disappointed him. He had never, perhaps, shared the sanguineness of his friends, but we are told by one who had long stood in a very confidential relation to him, that he was evidently not prepared for so early and abrupt a termination of the struggle before the House. His friends were prepared no better for a decision on the first ballot. They had hoped and wrought for a protracted contest, conscious that Crawford's only chance lay in some sudden turn of the game which might spring from the animosity of the stronger factions, and finally benefit him as a compromise candidate. Consequently, they were astounded when the vote was announced, though they betrayed no outward sign of chagrin or mortification. Some of the most intimate of their party repaired to Crawford's dwelling shortly after the adjournment, and among these were Macon, Lowry, and Cobb. The first two of these went immediately into the |