WITS AND FIRE-EATERS.

John M. Dooly was a native of Lincoln County, Georgia, where he continued to reside until his death, and where he now lies in an undistinguished grave. He was the son of a distinguished Revolutionary soldier, whose name, in consideration of his services in that struggle, has been given to a county in the State. In early life he united himself to the Federal party, and from honest convictions continued a Federalist in principle through life. But for his political principles, his name in the nation to-day would have been a household word, familiar as the proudest upon her scroll of fame. In very early life he gave evidence of extraordinary powers of mind. With a limited education, he commenced the study of the law when quite young. But despite this serious defect, which was coupled with poverty and many other disadvantages incident to a new country impoverished by war, and wanting in almost everything to aid the enterprise of talent in a learned profession, soon after his admission to the Bar he attracted the attention of the community, and especially the older members of the Bar, as a man of extraordinary capacity, and already trained in the law. So tenacious was his memory of all that he read or heard, that he not only retained the law, but the author and page where it was to be found. His mind was eminently logical and delighted in analytical investigation. In truth, the law suited the idiosyncrasy of his mind, and it was most fortunate for his future life, that he adopted it as a lifetime pursuit. Nature, it seems, gives to every mind a peculiar proclivity, as to every individual a peculiar mind: to pursue this proclivity is a pleasure; it makes work a delight, and this secures success. Hence it is fortunate to learn this peculiarity, and to cultivate it from the beginning. When the mind is strong and vigorous, this peculiar proclivity is generally well-marked to the inquiring observer in very early life.

It is related of Benjamin West, the great painter, that at five years of age he was continually soiling the floor of his good and sensible mother with charcoal sketches of the faces of the different members of the family; and of Napoleon, that in early childhood his favorite amusement was to build forts and array his playmates into column, and charge these, and assault and enter them. Stevenson, the great engineer, spent all his idle time, when a boy, in attempts at constructing machinery and bridges.

In these great minds this natural trait was so strongly marked, and so controlling in its influence, as to defy and overleap every obstacle, and develop its wonderful energy and capacity in the most stupendous manner. In such as these, this manifestation is early and palpable. Yet the same peculiarity exists wherever there is mind sufficient to connect cause and effect; but it is proportionate with the strength of the mind, and in ordinary or feeble minds it is less conspicuous, and requires close observation to discern it in early life.

The folly and ambition of parents and adverse circumstances too often disappoint the intentions of nature, and compel their offspring, or the victims of circumstance, to follow a pursuit for which they have a natural aversion, and absolutely no capacity: hence we see thousands struggling painfully through life in a hated avocation, and witness many a miserable lawyer whom nature designed to be a happy blacksmith. His toil of life is always up hill, without the possibility of ever attaining the summit. Sometimes the rebellion of nature is successful, and the misdirected will shake off the erroneously imposed vocation, and dash away in the pursuit for which the mind is capacitated; and immediate success attests the good sense and propriety of the act.

Fortunately, John M. Dooly, selected, under the guidance of natural inclination, the profession of law. His eminence was early in life, and the public eye was directed to him as one worthy any public trust. He was frequently chosen a member of the Legislature from his native county, and was distinguished for extraordinary ability in the capacity of a legislator. His conspicuous position and commanding talents pointed him out as one to take a foremost rank with the first of the nation; and his friends urged his name as a fit representative in Congress for the State. At this time the acrimony of party was intense; the Republican, or Jeffersonian party, was largely in the ascendant in the State, and would accept no compromise. It was willing to receive new converts and prefer them according to merit, but would accord no favor to an unrepentant enemy. At this time there were many young, talented men rising to distinction in the State, who were Federalists. With some of them ambition was superior to principle; they recanted their principles, and, in the ranks of their former opponents, reaped a harvest of political distinction. Prominent among these was John Forsyth. He had delivered a Fourth of July oration at Augusta, distinguished for great ability and high Federal doctrines. Abraham Baldwin, who, with the astuteness of the Yankee which he was had renounced Federalism, and was now a prominent leader of the Republican party, spoke of this effort of Forsyth as transcendently great, and always, when doing so, would add: “What a pity such abilities should be lost to the country through the influence of mistaken political principle!” Whether this had any effect upon the views of Forsyth or not, certain it is that very soon after he repudiated Federalism, and published a formal renunciation of the party and its principles. From that time forward his march was onward, and now his name and fame are embalmed as national wealth.

Dooly was less facile: his convictions were honest and strong, and he clung to them. He won the confidence not only of his party, but of the people, for high integrity; but this was all. Out of his county he was intrusted with no political position, and those who most prized his talents and integrity could never be persuaded to aid in giving these to the country. He was more than once beaten for the Senate of the United States; and once by Forsyth, who was not announced as a candidate, and who was at the time minister plenipotentiary of the nation at the Spanish Court. His great legal abilities were, however, complimented by the Republican Legislature, by placing him upon the bench of the highest judicial tribunal of the State, where his usefulness was transcendent, and where most of his life was spent.

As a wit, Dooly never had an equal in the State, and there might now be written a volume of his social and judicial wit. Its compass was illimitable from the most refined and delicately pungent to the coarsest and most vulgarly broad; but always pointed and telling. Nature had given him a peculiarity of look and voice which gave edge to his wit and point to his humor.

The judicial system of Georgia at this time was peculiar. The State was subdivided into districts, or circuits, as they were denominated; and one judge appointed to preside over each. These were elected by the Legislature, on joint ballot, for a term of three years; and until faction claimed the spoils of victory, the judge who had proven himself capable and honest was rarely removed, so long as he chose to remain. Dooly was one of these. Party never touched him, and both factions concurred in retaining him, because it was the universal wish of the people of his circuit. The law of the country was the common law of England and the statutes of the State. In the expounding of these, the judges frequently differed, and the consequence was that each circuit had, in many particulars, its own peculiar law, antagonistic to that which was received as law in the adjoining circuit. The uniformity of law, so essential to the quiet and harmony of a people, and so necessary in defining the title and securing the tenure of property, by this system was so greatly disturbed, that it led to the informal assembling of the judges at irregular periods, and upon their own responsibility, to reconcile these discrepancies. This in some degree obviated the necessity of a supreme court for the correction of errors; but was very unsatisfactory to the Bar, who were almost universal in their desire for the establishment of a tribunal for this purpose. But there was another feature peculiar to the judicial system of the State, to which her people were greatly attached: that of special juries. They feared the creation of a supreme court would abolish this, and for many years resisted it. This system of special juries, in the organization of her judiciary, was intended to obviate the necessity of a court of chancery. The conception was a new one, and in Georgia, with her peculiar population, its effects were admirable. It was an honest, common-sense adjudication of equity cases, and rendered cheap and speedy justice to litigants. It was unknown in the judiciary system of any other State, and I will be excused by the reader, who may not be a Georgian, for a brief description of it here.

By direction of the law of 1798, the justices of the Inferior Court took the tax list, which contained the name of every white man of twenty-one years and upwards in the county, and, from this list, selected a certain number of names, and placed them in a box marked “The grand-jury box.” The remaining names were placed in another box marked “The petit-jury box.” Those selected as grand jurors were chosen because of their superior intelligence, wealth, and purity of character. These selections were made at certain stated periods; and the jurors thus chosen from the mass never served on the petit jury, nor were they liable even as talesmen to serve on that jury. The same act made it the duty of the presiding judge of each circuit to draw, at the termination of each term of his court, and in open court, a certain number of names from each box, which were entered as drawn upon the minutes of the court, to serve as grand and petit jurors at the ensuing term of the court. The special juries, for the trial of cases in equity, and appeals from the verdicts of petit juries, were formed from the grand juries, and after the manner following: A list was furnished by the clerk of the court to the appellant and respondent. From this list each had the right to strike a name alternately the appellant having the first stroke until there remained twelve names only. These constituted a special Jury, and the oath prescribed by law far these jurors was as follows; “You shall well and truly try the issue between the parties, and a true verdict give, according to law and equity, and the opinion you entertain of the testimony.” Under the pleadings, the entire history of the case went before this jury, and their verdict was final. It was this method of trial which prevented so long that great desideratum in all judicial systems a court for the correction of errors and final adjudication of cases.

Dishonest litigants feared this special jury. Their characters, as that of their witnesses, passed in review before this jury, whose oaths allowed a latitude, enabling them frequently to render a verdict, ostensibly at variance with the testimony, but almost always in aid of the ends of equitable justice.

The system was eminently promotive of honesty and good morals, as well as the ends of justice; for men’s rights before it were not unfrequently determined by the reputation they bore in the community in which they lived. This fact stimulated uprightness of conduct, and often deterred the wrong-doer. It has passed away; but I doubt if what has replaced it has benefited the interests or morals of the people of the State.

Like Mr. Crawford, Judge Dooly relied more upon the practical good sense of the people as jurors, for justice between man and man, than upon the technicalities of the law; and especially upon that of special juries. Dooly had great contempt for petit juries, and evinced it upon one occasion by declaring in open court that he thought, if there was anything not known to the prescience of the Almighty, it was what the verdict of a petit jury would be, when they left the box for the jury-room. Dooly was an opponent of Crawford through life a friend and intimate of John Clark, Crawford’s greatest enemy. But his character was devoid of that bitterness and persistent hatred characteristic of these two. Crawford and Judge Tate were intimate friends, and between these and Clark there was continual strife. Tate and Clark were brothers-in-law; but this only served to whet and give edge to their animosity. Dooly, in some manner, became entangled with Tate in this feud; and an amusing story is told of the final settlement of the difficulty between these men.

Tate, it seems, challenged Dooly to mortal combat. Mr. Crawford was Tate’s friend. Dooly, contrary to all expectation, accepted, and named General Clark as his friend, and appointed a day of meeting. Tate had lost a leg, and, as was usual in that day, had substituted a wooden, one. On the appointed day, Tate, with his friend, repaired to the place of meeting, where Dooly had preceded them, and was alone, sitting upon a stump. Crawford approached him, and asked for his friend, General Clark.

“He is in the woods, sir.”

“And will soon be present, I presume?” asked Crawford.

“Yes; as soon as he can find a gum.”

“May I inquire, Colonel Dooly, what use you have for a gum in the matter we have met to settle?”

“I want it to put my leg in, sir. Do you suppose I can afford to risk my leg of flesh and bone against Tate’s wooden one? If I hit his leg, why, he will have another to-morrow, and be pegging about as well as usual. If he hits mine, I may lose my life by it; but almost certainly my leg, and be compelled, like Tate, to stump it the balance of my life. I cannot risk this; and must have a gum to put my leg in: then I am as much wood as he is, and on equal terms with him.”

“I understand you, Colonel Dooly; you do not intend to fight.”

“Well, really, Mr. Crawford, I thought everybody knew that.”

“Very well, sir,” said Crawford; “but remember, colonel, your name, in no enviable light, shall fill a column of a newspaper.”

“Mr. Crawford, I assure you,” replied Colonel Dooly, “I would rather fill every newspaper in Georgia than one coffin.”

It is scarcely necessary to say, that Tate and Crawford left the field discomfited, and here the matter ended.

Dooly never pretended to belligerency. When Judge Gresham threatened to chastise him, he coolly replied he could do it; but that it would be no credit to him, for anybody could do it. And when he introduced his friend to another as the inferior judge of the Inferior Court of the inferior County of Lincoln, and was knocked down for the insult, he intreated the bystanders not to suffer him to be injured. When released from the grasp of his antagonist, he rubbed his head, and facetiously said: “This is the forty-second fight I have had, and if I ever got the best of one, I do not now recollect it.”

Judge Dooly was much beloved by the younger members of the Bar, to whom he was ever kind and indulgent, associating with them upon his circuit, and joining in all their amusements. His wit spared no one, and yet no one was offended at it. His humor was the life of the company wherever he was, and he was never so burdened with official dignity as to restrain it on the bench. Unbiassed by party considerations or personal prejudices, and only influenced by a sense of duty and wish to do right, it was impossible he could be otherwise than popular. This popularity, however, was personal, not political, and could never secure to him any political distinction. He was ambitious of a seat in the United States Senate, a distinction to which he more than once aspired; but here the grinning ghost of Federalism always met him, frightening from his support even the nearest of his social friends. Mr. Crawford’s wishes controlled the State, through the instrumentality of those he had distinguished with his countenance. None doubted the patriotism or capacity of Dooly for the position; but he was a Federalist, and the friend of many of the prime movers of the Yazoo fraud; and these were unpardonable sins with Crawford and his friends. No one ever charged upon Dooly the sin of a participation in this speculation, or the frauds through which it became a fixed fact, as a law of the State, by legislative act. But it was, for a very long time, fatal to the political aspirations of every one known to be personally friendly to any man in any way concerned in the matter. They were pariahs in the land, without friends or caste.

Of all the men prominent in his day, George M. Troup was the most uncompromising in his hostility to those engaged in this speculation. It certainly was the work of a few persons only, and did not embrace one out of fifty of the Georgia Company. All, or nearly all of these, honestly embarked in the speculation, not doubting but that the State had the power to sell, and knowing her pecuniary condition required that she should have money. Had they known that it required bribery to pass the measure, they would have scorned to become parties to such corruption; nevertheless they were inculpated, and had to share the infamy of the guilty few who thus accomplished the purchase, as they shared the profits arising therefrom. But it did not stop with the participants. Their personal friends suffered, and no one individual so fatally as Dooly. He asserted the power of the Legislature to sell he was sustained by the decision of the Supreme Court he was not a stockholder he afforded no aid with his personal influence; yet the public clamor made him a Yazoo-man, and Troup was foremost in his denunciation of him. On this account it was that, upon a memorable occasion, Dooly declared that Troup’s mouth was formed by nature to pronounce the word Yazoo. It had been proposed to Dooly, at the time Forsyth abandoned the Federal party, to follow his example; but he refused to part with his first love, and clung to her, and shaded, without a murmur, her fortunes and her fate, which condemned him to a comparative obscurity for all the future.

It was long years after, and when Mr. Forsyth was in the zenith of his popularity, that the friends of Dooly proposed his name for the Senate of the United States. His was the only name announced as a candidate to the Legislature, but, on counting the ballots, it was found Forsyth had been elected. Dooly was present, and remarked to a friend that he was the only man he ever knew to be beaten who ran without opposition. He saw the aspiring companions of his youth favorites of the people, and thrust forward into public places, winning fame, and rising from one position to another of higher distinction. He witnessed the advance of men whom he had known as children in his manhood, preferred over him; and, in the consciousness of his own superiority to most or all of these, rather despised than regretted the prejudices of the public influenced by men designing and selfish which consigned him to obscurity because of an honest difference of opinion upon a point of policy which ninety out of every hundred knew nothing about. While the companions of his early youth were filling missions abroad, executive offices at home, and Cabinet appointments, he was wearing out his life in a position where, whatever his abilities, there was little fame to be won. Still he would make no compromise of principle. In faith he was sincere, and too honest to pretend a faith he had not, though honors and proud distinction waited to reward the deceit. As true to his friends as his principles, he would not desert either, and surrender his virtue to the seductions of office and honors. Toward the close of his life, his friends got into office and power. His friend, John Clarke, was elected Governor, upon the demise of Governor Rabun; but his day had passed, and other and younger men thrust him aside. Parties were growing more and more corrupt, and to subserve the uses of corruption, more tractable and pliant tools were required than could be made of Dooly.

The election of Clarke was a triumph over the friends of Crawford, who was then a member of Mr. Monroe’s Cabinet, and had long been absent from the State. It revived anew the flame of discord, which had smouldered under the ashes of time. The embers lived, and the division into parties of the people of the United States, consequent upon the disruption of the Federal and Republican parties, and the candidacy of Mr. Crawford for the Presidency, caused a division of the old Republican party in Georgia. Clarke immediately headed the opposition to Crawford, and his election was hailed as an evidence of Mr. Crawford’s unpopularity at home. This election startled the old friends of this distinguished son of Georgia, and revived the old feeling. Clarke was a man of strong will, without much mind, brave, and vindictive, and nursed the most intense hatred of Crawford constantly in his heart. The long absence of Crawford from the State, and the secluded retirement of Clarke, had caused to cool in the public mind much of the former bitterness of the two factions in the State, but now it was rekindled. There were very many young men, who had been too young to take any part in these factions, but who were now the active and ambitious element in the State. Many persons, too, had immigrated into the new-settled parts of the State, who were strangers to the feuds which had once divided her people, and which now began to do so anew. Each party sought to win and secure this element. Every newspaper in the State, every judge upon the bench, every member of Congress was in the interest of Crawford; and yet there was a majority of the people of the State attached to the Clarke faction. He and his friends had long been proscribed, and they pleaded persecution. The natural sympathies of the heart were touched by these appeals, and it was feared the State would be lost to Crawford in the coming Presidential election. Every effort was now to be made to defeat this faction against him, headed by Clarke. The election of Governor at this time was by the Legislature; and it was not anticipated that there would be any difficulty in the re-election of Rabun, and, consequently, there had been no agitation of the question before the people at the recent election of members of the Legislature. Scarcely a tithe of the people had even heard of the candidacy of Clarke when his election was announced; and, at the time, so little interest was felt on the subject, that very few objected to his election. Clarke was a man of violent passions, and had been, to some extent, irregular and dissipated in his habits. When excited by any means, he was fierce; but when with drink, he was boisterous, abusive, and destructive. Many stories were related of terrible acts of his commission riding into houses, smashing furniture, glass, and crockery of persécutions of his family and weak persons he disliked. This had aroused in the pious and orderly members of society strong opposition to him, and at this time all his sins and irregularities were widely and loudly heralded to the public. The preachers, with few exceptions, denounced him, and those who did not were very soon with him denounced. Very soon after his inauguration, the celebrated Jesse Mercer the great gun of the Baptist denomination in Georgia was invited to preach the funeral sermon of Governor Rabun. Mercer was an especial friend of Mr. Crawford, and a more especial enemy of Clarke. In many respects he was a remarkable man a zealous and intolerant sectarian, and quite as uncompromising and bitter in his political feelings. His zeal knew no bounds in propagating his religious faith, and it was quite as ardent in persecuting his political opponents. It was doubtful which he most hated the Devil or John Clarke. Rabun had been his neighbor, his friend, and, above all, a member and elder in his church. It was quite fitting under the circumstances that he should be selected to officiate in the funeral services in honor of the late Governor. From respect, Clarke and the Legislature were present. The moment Mercer’s eye, from the pulpit, descried Clarke, he threw open his Bible violently, and for many minutes was busy searching from page to page some desired text. At last he smiled. And such a smile! It was malignant as that of a catamount. Turning down the leaf as was the custom of his church he rose and gave out to be sung, line by line, his hymn. This concluded, he made a short and hurried prayer contrary to his custom and, rising from his prayerful position, opened his Bible, and fixing his eye upon Clarke, he directed his audience to his text, and read:

“When the wicked rule, the land mourns.”

The expression of his countenance, the twinkling of his eye, all pointed so clearly to Clarke as to direct the attention of every one present to the Governor. This was followed by a sermon half made up of the irregularities of Clarke’s life. This was the tocsin to the church, and it came down in force with the opposition to the Governor elect. It was, too, the slogan of the Crawford party to rally for a new conflict.

Mr. Crawford’s conduct as a representative of the State in Congress, and the representative of her people in his foreign mission, had been eminently satisfactory; and his present elevated position as Secretary of the Treasury of the United States was exceedingly gratifying to their pride. When it was determined by his friends to present his name to the nation as a candidate for the Presidency, it was supposed his support would be unanimous in Georgia. Time had given opportunity for the prejudices and hatreds of youth to wear out with the passions of youth. Those, however, who knew John Clarke, were not deceived when he successfully rallied a party in opposition. So little interest had been felt in the personal difficulty formerly existing between Clarke and Crawford, that even those who remembered it attached to it no importance, and they did not suppose Clarke’s election was to be the commencement of an organized opposition to Crawford’s election, and of the bitterness which was to follow.

There was scarcely the show of opposition to the election of Clarke. Those who remembered the old feud, and how completely it had pressed down all the ambitious hopes and aspirations of Clarke, were willing to forget the past, and, though warm friends of Mr. Crawford, to vote for Clarke, and honor him with the first office in the State. Some felt his treatment had been too harsh, and that for his father’s Yazoo antecedents he had been made to pay quite too severe a penalty, and were desirous to manifest their feelings in their votes. Besides, his family connections were most respectable. Griffin Campbell and Dr. Bird were his brothers-in-law, and were men of high character and great influence. The friends of these gentlemen united in his support. And there was still another, whose influence, to the writer’s knowledge, carried four young, talented members of the House to the support of her father Ann Clarke, the only daughter of John Clarke, who had no superior among her sex in talent, beauty, and accomplishments, in the State. During the incumbency of her father she did the honors of the executive mansion with a dignity, grace, and affability which won all hearts, and added greatly to the popularity of the Governor. She married Colonel John W. Campbell, and all her after-life has justified the promise of her girlhood. Left a widow with many children, she has reared and educated them to be an honor to their mother, and, as she was, an ornament to society. She is now an aged woman, and resides in Texas, honored and beloved by all who know her.

The election of Clarke was illy received by the old and tried friends of Crawford throughout the State. They knew him. His stern, inflexible character and indomitable will were sure to rally about him a party; and his personal bravery and devotion to his friends would greatly aid in keeping and inspiring these. His position now was one of strength, with the capacity to increase it, and the material was abundant; yet there were formidable difficulties in his way. All, or very nearly all of the leading families of the State the Lamars, Cobbs, McIntoshes, Waynes, Telfairs, Cummings, Tatnals, Dawsons, Abercrombies, Holts, Blackshears, and many others were Republicans, and active in the support of Crawford for the Presidency. These apparently insurmountable difficulties were to be overcome in the organization of new parties. The complete breaking up of the Republican party of the nation was favorable; and there was another element which the sagacity of Campbell soon discovered and laid hold upon. There were many ambitious and disappointed men and families in the State beside Clarke and his family.

The overwhelming popularity of Crawford as the head of the Republican party in the State had enabled his friends to monopolize all the offices, and give direction to every political movement and fix the destiny of every political aspirant. Under this regime many had been summarily set aside, and were soured. The talents of Troup, Forsyth, Cobb, Berrien, Tatnal, and some others, pointed them out as men to be honored, because they honored the State. They seemed to hold a possessory right to the distinguished positions, and to dictate who should be elected to the minor ones. Young ambition submitted, but, was restless and impatient to break away from this dominion. Party stringency had enforced it, but this was loosened, and all that was now wanting was a head to rally them into a new and formidable party. Every old Federalist in the State who had clung to his principles attached himself to Clarke. There were many strong families, wielding a potent influence in their neighborhoods, attached to Federal principles. The Watkins, Hills, Walkers, Glasscocks, and Adamses all soon sided with the new party. A press in its support was greatly needed, and was soon established, and given in charge of Cosein E. Bartlett, than whom no man was better calculated for such a service as was demanded of him.

There were not at this time a dozen newspapers in the State. With all of them had Bartlett to do battle for the cause in which he had enlisted, and right valiantly did he do it. He was a fluent and most caustic writer, and was always ready, not only to write, but to fight for his party, and would with his blood sustain anything he might say or write. Like most party editors, he only saw the interest of his party in what he would write, and would write anything he supposed would further the ends of his party. Almost immediately after the election of Clarke, the opposition presented the name of George M. Troup, who had been voted for as an opposing candidate at the time of Clarke’s election. It was but a little while before the State trembled with the agitation which seemed to disturb every breast. None could be neutral. All were compelled to take sides or be crushed between the contending parties or factions; for this division of the people was only factious. There was no great principle upon which they divided; it was men only. Clarke and his friends favored the pretensions of Mr. Calhoun to the Presidency solely because he was the enemy of Crawford, and they were subsequently transferred to the support of Jackson as readily as cattle in the market.

For two years was this agitation increasing in intensity, and so bitter had it made animosities arising out of it, that reason seemed to reel, and justice to forget her duty. Men were chosen indiscriminately to office because of party proclivities. Intelligence and moral worth were entirely disregarded families divided husbands and wives quarrelled father and sons were estranged, and brothers were at deadly strife. There was no argument in the matter; for there was nothing upon which to predicate an argument. To introduce the subject was to promote a quarrel. Churches were distracted and at discord, and the pulpit, for the first time in Georgia, desecrated by political philippics. Pierce then, as now, was the leading minister of the Methodist Church in the State, and abstained in the pulpit, but made no secret of his preferences upon the street. Duffie travelled everywhere. He had by unkindness driven from him his wife with her infant child, and, in her helpless and desperate condition, she had taken refuge with the Shaking Quakers in the West, and remained with them until her death. His son came to him after maturity, and was established by him on a plantation with a number of slaves; but, having inherited all the brutal ferocity of his father, it was not long before he murdered one or two of them. Incarcerated in the county jail, his father invoked party aid to release him, openly declaring it was due to him for party services in opposing that son of the Devil John Clarke. Whether his party or his money did the work I know not; but the miserable wretch escaped from jail, and was never brought to trial.

Peter Gautier was another prominent preacher-politician, and exercised his talents in the service of Clarke. He was by birth an American, but his parents were French. He was a bad man, but of eminent abilities, and exercised great influence in the western portion of the State. After Pierce, he was the superior of all of his denomination as a pulpit orator; and in will and energy unequalled by any other. Bold, unscrupulous, and passionate, he, regardless of his profession, mingled freely, at county musters and political barbecues, with the lowest and vilest of the community, using every art his genius suggested to inflame the mad passions of men already excited to frenzy. In after life the viciousness and unscrupulousness of his nature overmastered his hypocrisy and burst out in acts of dishonesty and profanity, which disgraced and drove him from the State. He sought security from public scorn in the wilds of Florida; but all restraint had given way, and very soon the innate perfidy of his nature manifested itself in all his conduct, and he was obliged to retire from Florida. At that time Texas was the outlet for all such characters, and thither went Gautier, where he died.

Every means which talent and ingenuity could devise was put into requisition by both parties to secure their ascendency. The men of abilities greatly preponderated in the Troup faction; and the pens of Cobb, Gumming, Wild, Grantland, Gilmer, and Foster were active in promoting the election of Troup, and thereby regaining the lost power of the old Crawford or Republican party. Many young men of talent had espoused the Clarke faction, and, under the guidance of Dooly, Campbell, and Clarke, were doing yeomen’s work for the cause. Among these was Charles J. McDonald, whose fine character and family influence rendered him conspicuously popular. This popularity he retained to the end of his life. It elevated him to the Gubernatorial chair, after serving in the United States Congress and for years upon the bench of the Superior Court. His talents were not of the first order, but his honesty, sincerity, and goodness made him beloved.

Bartlett was struggling with all his energies to write up the administration and to defend the Governor against the fierce and reiterated attacks of the opposition. About this period there appeared some articles in a paper in Augusta, Georgia, reflecting upon Mr. Crawford, in reply to several papers signed “C.,” which were written by Richard H. Wild, then a member of Congress from Georgia. These articles were attributed to Colonel William Gumming, of Augusta, and “C.,” in reply, attacked him severely. He was not a man to be badgered by an anonymous writer in a newspaper. He demanded immediately of the editor the name of his correspondent, and that of George McDuffie, of South Carolina, was given. A challenge ensued a meeting followed, in which McDuffie was seriously wounded, and which ultimately caused his death. This affair increased the hatred between the Georgians and Carolinians, as it did not cease with a single meeting. Gumming renewed his challenge in consequence of a statement made by McDuffie in a paper to the public, narrating offensively as Cumming felt the particulars of the affair. A second meeting was the consequence, at which a difficulty arose between the seconds, and it was adjourned to another day and another place. At this third meeting, in an exchange of shots, McDuffie’s arm was broken, and this terminated the difficulty; but it did not appease the animosity of the friends of the parties.

These combatants were both men of remarkable abilities. Colonel William Cumming was a native of Augusta, Georgia. Born to the inheritance of fortune, he received a liberal education and selected the law as a profession. He read with the celebrated Judges Reeve and Gould, at Litchfield, Connecticut. At the period of his study this was the only law-school in the United States. Many anecdotes of his peculiarities during his residence at the school were related by his preceptors to the young gentlemen from Georgia who followed him in the office in after years. A moot court was a part of the system of instruction, in which questions of law, propounded by one of the professors, were argued by students appointed for the purpose. On one occasion, Cumming was replying to the argument of a competitor, and was so caustic as to be offensive. This was resented by insulting words. Turning to the gentleman, and without speaking, Cumming knocked him down. Immediately, and without the slightest appearance of excitement, addressing the presiding professor, he remarked: “Having thus summarily disposed of the gentleman, I will proceed to treat his argument in like manner.”

Upon his return to Georgia, the war with England having broken out, he procured the commission of a captain and entered the army. He was transferred to the northern frontier then the seat of active operations and soon distinguished himself amid that immortal band, all of whom now sleep with their fathers Miller, Brook, Jessup, McCrea, Appling, Gaines, and Twiggs. Cumming, Appling, and Twiggs were Georgians. At the battle of Lundy’s Lane he was severely wounded and borne from the field. He was placed in an adjoining room to General Preston, who was also suffering from a wound. Cumming was a favorite of Preston’s, and both were full of prejudice toward the men of the North. Late at night, Preston was aroused by a boisterous laugh in Cumming’s apartment. Such a laugh was so unusual with him that the general supposed he had become delirious from pain. He was unable to go to him, but called and inquired the cause of his mirth.

“I can’t sleep,” was the reply, “and I was thinking over the incidents of the day, and just remembered that there had not in the conflict been an officer wounded whose home was north of Mason and Dixon’s line. Those fellows know well how to take care of their bacon.”

He was soon promoted to a colonelcy, and was fast rising to the next grade when the war terminated. In the reduction of the army he was retained a compliment to his merits as a man and an officer. He was satisfied with this, and, in declining to remain in the army, wrote to the Secretary of War:

“There are many whose services have been greater, and whose merits are superior to mine, who have no other means of a livelihood. I am independent, and desire some other may be retained in my stead.”

He was unambitious of political distinction, though intensely solicitous to promote that of his friends. His high qualities of soul and mind endeared him to the people of the State, who desired and sought every occasion which they deemed worthy of him, to tender him the first positions within their gift; but upon every one of these he remained firm to his purpose, refusing always the proffered preferment. Upon one occasion, when written to by a majority of the members of the Legislature, entreating him to permit them to send him to the Senate of the United States, he declined, adding: “I am a plain, military man. Should my country, in that capacity, require my services, I shall be ready to render them; but in no other.” He continued to reside in Augusta in extreme seclusion. Upon the breaking out of the war with Mexico he was tendered, by Mr. Polk, the command of the army, but declined on account of his age and declining health, deeming himself physically incapable of encountering the fatigue the position would involve.

The habits of Colonel Cumming were peculiar. His intercourse with his fellow men was confined to a very few tried friends. He never married, and was rarely known to hold any familiar intercourse with females. So secluded did he live, that for many years he was a stranger to almost every one in his native city. He was strictly truthful, punctual to his engagements in business matters, and honest in all things. In person, he was very commanding. In his walk the whole man was seen erect, dignified, and impetuous. Energy and command flashed from his great, gray eyes. His large head and square chin, with lips compressed, indicated the talent and firmness which were the great characteristics of his nature. Impatient of folly, he cultivated no intercourse with silly persons, nor brooked for a moment the forward impertinence of little pretenders. To those whose qualities of mind and whose habits were congenial to his own, and whom he permitted familiarly to approach him, he was exceedingly affable, and with such he frequently jested, and hilariously enjoyed the piquant story in mirthful humor; but this was for the few. He was a proud man, and was at no pains to conceal his contempt for pert folly or intrusive ignorance, wherever and in whomsoever he met it.

In early life he was the close intimate of Richard Henry Wild, and was a great admirer of his genius, and especially his great and interesting conversational powers. Unexceptionable in his morals, he was severe upon those whose lives were deformed by the petty vices which society condemns yet practises in so many instances and universally tolerates.

It is greatly to be regretted that the talents and learning of such a man should not be given to mankind. Every one capable of appreciating these great attributes in man, and who knew Colonel Cumming, will, with the writer, regret that he persistently refused every persuasion of his friends to allow them to place him in such a position before the country as would bring his great qualities prominently forward in the service, and for the benefit of his fellow-men. His proud nature scorned the petty arts of the politician; and he doubtless felt place could only be had or retained by the use of these arts; he was of too high principle to descend to them, and held in great contempt those whose confidence and favor could only be had by chicanery. He was not a people’s man, and had in his nature very little in common with the masses; and, like Coriolanus, scorned and shunned the great unwashed. He lived out his threescore years and ten, hiding the jewel God had given him, and appropriating it only to the use of his own happiness in the solitude he loved.

George McDuffie was a very different man. Born of humble parentage in one of the eastern counties of Georgia, he enjoyed but few advantages. His early education was limited: a fortuitous circumstance brought him to the knowledge of Mr. Calhoun, who saw at once in the boy the promise of the man. Proposing to educate him and fit him for a destiny which he believed an eminent one, he invited him to his home, and furnished him with the means of accomplishing this end. His ambition had often whispered to his young mind a proud future, and he commenced the acquisition of the education which was, as he felt, essential as a means of its attainment. In this he made rapid progress, and at the age of twenty-five graduated at the university of South Carolina. It was not long after graduating before he was admitted to the Bar, and commenced the practice of law in company with Eldridge Simpkins, at Edgefield Court House, who was, if I mistake not, at the time, a member of Congress.

The rise of McDuffie at the Bar was rapid; he had not practised three years before his position was by the side of the first minds of the State, and his name in the mouth of every one the coming man of the South. It was probably owing to the defence made by him of William Taylor for the killing of Dr. Cheesboro, that he became famous as it were in a day. This case excited the people of the whole State of South Carolina. The parties were, so far as position was concerned, the first in the State. William Taylor was the brother of John Taylor, who at the time of the killing was Governor of the State. John Taylor, his grandfather, was a distinguished officer in the army of the Revolution: the family was wealthy, and extensively connected with the first families of the State. Cheesboro was a young physician of great promise and extensive practice. Jealousy was the cause of the killing, and was evidently groundless. The deed was done in the house of Taylor, in the city of Columbia, and was premeditated murder. Mrs. Taylor was a lovely woman and highly connected. In her manners she was affable and cordial; she was a great favorite in society, and her universal popularity attracted to her the host of friends who so much admired her. Dr. Cheesboro was one of these, and the green-eyed monster made him, in the convictions of Taylor, the especial favorite of his wife. McDuffie was employed in his defence, and he made a most triumphant success against evidence, law, and justice. His speech to the jury was most effective. The trial had called to Columbia many persons connected with the family; and all were interested to save from an ignominious death their relative. This, it was thought, could only be done by the sacrifice of the wife’s reputation. This would not only ruin forever this estimable lady, but reflect a stain upon her extensive and respectable connections. She was appealed to, to save her husband’s life with the sacrifice of her fame. In the consciousness of innocence, she refused with Spartan firmness to slander her reputation by staining her conscience with a lie. Her friends stood by her; and when hope had withered into despair, and the possibility gone forever of saving him by this means, the eloquence of McDuffie and the influence of family were invoked, and successfully.

In the examination of the witnesses he showed great tact, and successfully kept from the jury facts which would have left them no excuse for a verdict of acquittal. But it was in his address that his great powers made themselves manifest. The opening was impassioned and powerful. Scarcely had he spoken ten minutes before the Bench, the Bar, the jury, and the audience were in tears, and, during the entire speech, so entirely did he control the feelings of every one who heard him, that the sobs from every part of the courtroom were audible above the sounds of his voice. When he had concluded, the jury went weeping from the box to the room of their deliberations, and soon returned a verdict of acquittal.

This effort established the fame of McDuffie as an orator and man of great mental powers. Fortunately at that time it was the pride of South Carolina to call to her service the best talent in all the public offices, State and national, and with one acclaim the people demanded his services in Congress. Mr. Simpkins, the incumbent from the Edgefield district, declined a re-election, that his legal partner, Mr. McDuffie, might succeed him, and he was chosen by acclamation. He came in at a time when talent abounded in Congress, and when the country was deeply agitated with the approaching election for President. Almost immediately upon his entering Congress an altercation occurred upon the floor of the House between him and Mr. Randolph, which resulted in the discomfiture of Mr. Randolph, causing him to leave the House in a rage, with the determination to challenge McDuffie. This, however, when he cooled, he declined to do. This rencontre of wit and bitter words gave rise to an amusing incident during its progress.

Jack Baker, the wag and wit of Virginia, was an auditor in the gallery of the House. Randolph, as usual, was the assailant, and was very severe. McDuffie replied, and was equally caustic, and this to the astonishment of every one; for all supposed the young member was annihilated as so many before had been by Randolph and would not reply. His antagonist was completely taken aback, and evidently felt, with Sir Andrew Ague-cheek: “Had I known he was so cunning of fence, I had seen him damned ere I had fought him.” But he was in for it, and must reply. His rejoinder was angry, and wanting in his usual biting sarcasm. McDuffie rose to reply, and, pausing, seemed to hesitate, when Baker from the gallery audibly exclaimed: “Lay on, McDuff, and damned be he who first cries hold, enough!” The silence which pervaded the chamber was broken by a general laugh, greatly disconcerting Randolph, but seeming to inspire McDuffie, who went on in a strain of vituperation witheringly pungent, in the midst of which Mr. Randolph left his seat and the House. Here was a triumph few had enjoyed. Not even Bayard, in his famous attack upon Randolph, when the latter first came into Congress, had won so much. Every one seemed delighted. The newspapers heralded it to the country, and McDuffie had a national reputation. Everything seemed propitious for his fame, and every friend of Mr. Calhoun felt that he had a champion in his protege, who, in good service, would return him fourfold for his noble generosity to the boy.

The contest with Cumming whetted more sharply the edge of the animosity between Georgia and South Carolina. The two were considered the champions of their respective States, as also the chosen knights of their respective friends Crawford and Calhoun. The States and the friends of the parties in this quarrel very soon arrayed themselves in antagonism, which was made personal on many occasions, and between many parties. The young were especially prominent in their demonstrations of hostile feeling, not excepting the belles of the respective States. Between them, I believe, it never went beyond words; but they were frequent in conflict, and sometimes very bitter and very witty ones escaped from lovely lips, attesting that the face of beauty was underlaid with passion’s deformity. With the young gallants it went to blows, and, on a few occasions, to more deadly strife; and always marred the harmony of the association where there were young representatives of both States. On one occasion of social meeting at a public dinner-party in Georgia, a young South Carolinian gave as a sentiment: “George McDuffie the pride of South Carolina. This was immediately responded to by Mirabeau B. Lamar, the late President of Texas, who was then young, and a great pet of his friends, with another: Colonel William Cumming

“The man who England’s arms defied,
A bar to base designers;
Who checked alike old Britain’s pride
And noisy South Carolina’s.”

The wit of the impromptu was so fine and the company so appreciative, that, as if by common consent, all enjoyed it, and good feeling was not disturbed.

McDuffie was not above the middle size. His features were large and striking, especially his eyes, forehead, and nose. The latter was prominent and aquiline. His eyes were very brilliant, blue, and deeply set under a massive brow his mouth large, with finely chiselled lips, which, in meeting, always wore the appearance of being compressed. In manners he was retiring without being awkward. His temperament was nervous and ardent, and his feelings strong. His manner when speaking was nervous and impassioned, and at times fiercely vehement, and again persuasive and tenderly pathetic, and in every mood he was deeply eloquent.

In the after period of life these antagonists were, through the instrumentality of a noble-hearted Hibernian, reconciled, and sincerely so both regretting the past, and willing to bury its memory in social intimacy. McDuffie married Miss Singleton, of South Carolina, one of the loveliest and most accomplished ladies of the State.

Owing to the wound received in the duel with Cumming, his nervous system suffered, and finally his brain. The ball remained imbedded in the spine, and pressed upon the spinal chord. An attempt to remove it, the surgeons determined, would be more hazardous to life than to permit it to remain. There was no remedy. From its effects his mind began to decay, and finally perished, leaving him, long before his death, a melancholy imbecile. In all the relations of life this great man was faithful to his duties a devoted husband, a sincere friend, a kind neighbor, and a considerate and indulgent master to his slaves. He was one of those rare creations for which there is no accounting. None of his family evinced more than very ordinary minds; nor can there be traced in his ancestry one after whom his nature and abilities were marked. His morals were as pure and elevated as his intellect was grand and comprehensive, and his soul was as lofty and chivalrous as the Chevalier Bayard’s. His fame is too broad to be claimed alone by South Carolina. Georgia is proud of giving him birth, and the nation cherishes his glory.