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male" had gone back to Mexico, with high letters from some members of the cabinet to the commanding general, and to the plenipotentiary negotiator; both of whom, however, eschewed the proffered aid. A party in Mexico developed itself for this total absorption, and total assumption of debts, and the scheme acquired so much notoriety, and gained such consistency of detail, and stuck so close to some members of the administration, that the President deemed it necessary to clear himself from the suspicion; which he did in a decisive paragraph of his mes

the pride of an American, although all these
advantages had to be gained over the man
whom he handed back into Mexico under the
belief that he was to make peace. He also in-
formed Congress that a commissioner had been
sent to the head-quarters of the American army
to take advantage of events to treat for peace;
and that he had carried out with him the
draught of the treaty, already prepared, which
contained the terms on which alone the war
was to be terminated. This commissioner was
Nicholas P. Trist, Esq., principal clerk in the
Department of State, a man of mind and integ-sage :
rity, well acquainted with the state of parties
in Mexico, subject to none at home, and anxious
to establish peace between the countries. Upon
the capture of the city, and the downfall of
Santa Anna, commissioners were appointed to
meet Mr. Trist; but the Mexican government,
far from accepting the treaty as drawn up and
sent to them, submitted other terms still more
objectionable to us than ours to them; and the
two parties remained without prospect of agree-
ment. The American commissioner was re-
called, "under the belief," said the message,
"that his continued presence with the army
could do no good." This recall was despatched
from the United States the 6th of October, im-
mediately after information had been received
of the failure of the attempted negotiations;
but, as will be seen hereafter, the notice of the
recall arriving when negotiations had been re-
sumed with good prospect of success, Mr. Trist
remained at his post to finish his work.

In the course of the summer a "female," fresh from Mexico, and with a masculine stomach for war and politics, arrived at Washington, had interviews with members of the administration, and infected some of them with the contagion of a large project-nothing less than the absorption into our Union of all Mexico, and the assumption of all her debts (many tens of millions in esse, and more in posse), and all to be assumed at par, though the best were at 25 cents in the dollar, and the mass ranging down to five cents. This project was given out, and greatly applauded in some of the administration papers-condemned by the public feeling, and greatly denounced in a large opposition meeting in Lexington, Kentucky, at which Mr. Clay came forth from his retirement to speak wisely and patriotically against it. The "fe

"It has never been contemplated by me, as an object of the war, to make a permanent conquest of the republic of Mexico, or to annihilate her separate existence as an independent nation. she should maintain her nationality, and, under On the contrary, it has ever been my desire that a good government adapted to her condition, be a free, independent, and prosperous republic. The United States were the first among the naalways desired to be on terms of amity and tions to recognize her independence, and have good neighborhood with her. This she would not suffer. By her own conduct we have been compelled to engage in the present war. In its nation, but, in vindicating our national honor, prosecution, we seek not her overthrow as a we seek to obtain redress for the wrongs she has done us, and indemnity for our just demands against her. We demand an honorable peace; and that peace must bring with it indemnity for the past, and security for the future."

While some were for total absorption, others were for half; and for taking a line (provisionally during the war), preparatory to its becoming permanent at its close, and giving to the United States the northern States of Mexico from gulf to gulf. This project the President also repulsed in a paragraph of his message:

fend it, would not terminate the war. On the "To retire to a line, and simply hold and decontrary, it would encourage Mexico to persevere, and tend to protract it indefinitely. It is not to be expected that Mexico, after refusing to establish such a line as a permanent boundary when our victorious army are in possession of her capital, and in the heart of her country, would permit us to hold it without resistance. That she would continue the war, and in the most harassing and annoying forms, there can be no doubt. A border warfare of the most savage character, extending over a long line. would be unceasingly waged. It would require a large army to be kept constantly in the field.

such difficulty got out of it; but without getting it out of the head of Mr. Calhoun and his political friends. To return to the argument against such a line, in this subsequent message, bespoke an adherence to it on the part of some formidable interest, which required to be author

formidable interest which wished a separation of the slave from the free States, wished also as an extension of their Southern territory, to obtain a broad slice from Mexico, embracing Tampico as a port on the east, Guaymas as a port on the Gulf of California, and Monterey and Saltillo in the middle. Mr. Polk did not sympathize with that interest, and publicly repulsed their plan—without, however, extinguishing their scheme-which survives, and still labors at its consummation in a different form, and with more success.

The expenses of the government during that season of war, were the next interesting head of the message, and were presented, all heads of expenditure included, at some fifty-eight millions of dollars; or a quarter less than those same expenses now are in a state of peace. The message says:

stationed at posts and garrisons along such a line, to protect and defend it. The enemy, relieved from the pressure of our arms on his coasts and in the populous parts of the interior, would direct his attention to this line, and selecting an isolated post for attack, would concentrate his forces upon it. This would be a condition of affairs which the Mexicans, pursu-itatively combated: and such was the fact. The ing their favorite system of guerilla warfare, would probably prefer to any other. Were we to assume a defensive attitude on such a line, all the advantages of such a state of war would be on the side of the enemy. We could levy no contributions upon him, or in any other way make him feel the pressure of the war; but must remain inactive, and wait his approach, being in constant uncertainty at what point on the line, or at what time, he might make an assault. He may assemble and organize an overwhelming force in the interior, on his own side of the line, and, concealing his purpose, make a sudden assault on some one of our posts so distant from any other as to prevent the possibility of timely succor or reinforcements; and in this way our gallant army would be exposed to the danger of being cut off in detail; or if by their unequalled bravery and prowess every where exhibited during this war, they should repulse the enemy, their number stationed at any one post may be too small to pursue him. If the enemy be repulsed in one attack, he would have nothing to do but to retreat to his own side of the line, and being in no fear of a pursuing army, may reinforce himself at leisure, for another attack on the same or some other post. He may, too, cross the line between our posts, make rapid incursions into the country which we hold, murder the inhabitants, commit depredations on them, and then retreat to the interior before a sufficient force can be concentrated to pursue him. Such would probably be the harassing character of a mere defensive war on our part. If our forces, when attacked, or threatened with attack, be permitted to cross the line, drive back the enemy, and conquer him, this would be again to invade the enemy's country, after having lost all the advantages of the conquests we have already made by having voluntarily abandoned them. To hold such a line successfully and in security, it is far from being certain that it would not require as large an army as would be necessary to hold all the conquests we have already made, and to continue the prosecution of the war in the heart of the enemy's country. It is also far from being certain that the expense of the war would be diminished by such a policy."

These were the same arguments which Senator Benton had addressed to the President the year before, when the recommendation of this line of occupation had gone into the draught of his message, as a cabinet measure, and was with VOL II.-45

"It is estimated that the receipts into the of June, 1848, including the balance in the Treasury for the fiscal year ending on the 30th Treasury on the 1st of July last, will amount to forty-two millions eight hundred and eightysix thousand five hundred and forty-five dollars and eighty cents; of which thirty-one millions, it is estimated, will be derived from customs;

three millions five hundred thousand from the sale of the public lands; four hundred thousand from incidental sources; including sales made lions two hundred and eighty-five thousand by the solicitor of the Treasury; and six miltwo hundred and ninety-four dollars and fiftyfive cents from loans already authorized by law, which, together with the balance in the Treasury on the 1st of July last, make the sum estimated. The expenditures for the same period, if peace with Mexico shall not be concluded, and the army shall be increased as is proposed, will amount, including the necessary payments on account of principal and interest of the public debt and Treasury notes, to fiftyeight millions six hundred and fifteen thousand and sixty dollars and seven cents."

An encomium upon the good working of the independent treasury system, and the perpetual repulse of paper money from the federal Treasury, concluded the heads of this message which retain a surviving interest:

"The financial system established by the constitutional Treasury has been, thus far, eminently successful in its operations; and I recommend an adherence to all its essential provisions; and especially to that vital provision, which wholly separates the government from all connection with banks, and excludes bank paper from all revenue receipts."

An earnest exhortation to a vigorous prosecution of the war concluded the message.

CHAPTER CLXXI.

DEATH OF SENATOR BARROW: MR. BENTON'S

EULOGIUM.

MR. BENTON. In rising to second the motion for paying to the memory of our deceased brother senator the last honors of this body, I feel myself to be obeying the impulsions of an hereditary friendship, as well as conforming to the practice of the Senate. Forty years ago, when coming to the bar at Nashville, it was my good fortune to enjoy the friendship of the father of the deceased, then an inhabitant of Nashville, and one of its most respected citi

zens.

The deceased was then too young to be noted amongst the rest of the family. The pursuits of life soon carried us far apart, and long after, and for the first time to know each other, we met on this floor. We met not as strangers, but as friends-friends of early and hereditary recollections; and all our intercourse since every incident and every word of our lives, public and private-has gone to strengthen and confirm the feelings under which we met, and to perpetuate with the son the friendship which had existed with the father. Up to the last moments of his presence in this chamberup to the last moment that I saw him-our meetings and partings were the cordial greetings of hereditary friendship; and now, not only as one of the elder senators, but as the early and family friend of the deceased, I come forward to second the motion for the honors to his memory.

The senator from Louisiana (Mr. H. Johnson) has performed the office of duty and of friendship to his deceased friend and colleague. Justly, truly, and feelingly has he performed I

it. With deep and heartfelt emotion he has portrayed the virtues, and sketched the qualities, which constituted the manly and lofty character of Alexander Barrow. He has given us a picture as faithful as it is honorable, and it does not become me to dilate upon what he has so well presented; but, in contemplating the rich and full portrait of the high qualities of the head and heart which he has presented, suffer me to look for an instant to the source, the fountain, from which flowed the full stream of generous and noble actions which distinguished the entire life of our deceased brother senator. I speak of the heart-the noble heart-of Alexander Barrow. Honor, courage, patriotism, friendship, generosity-fidelity to his friend and his country-the social affections-devotion to the wife of his bosom, and the children of their love: all-all, were there! and never, not once, did any cold, or selfish, or timid calculation ever come from his manly head to check or balk the noble impulsions of his generous heart. A quick, clear, and strong judgment found nothing to restrain in these impulsions; and in all the wide circle of his public and private relations—in all the words and acts of his life—it was the heart that moved first; and always so true to honor that judgment had nothing to do but to approve the impulsion. From that fountain flowed the stream of the actions of his life; and now what we all deplore-what so many will join in deploring—is, that such a fountain, so unexpectedly, in the full tide of its flow, should have been so suddenly dried up. He was one of the younger members of this body, and in all the hope and vigor of meridian manhood. Time was ripening and maturing his faculties. He seemed to have a right to look forward to many years of usefulness to his country and to his family. With qualities evidently fitted for the field as well as for the Senate, a brilliant future was before him; ready, as I know he was, to serve his country in any way that honor and duty should require.

CHAPTER CLXXII.

DEATH OF MR. ADAMS.

"JUST after the yeas and nays were taken on a question, and the Speaker had risen to put another question to the House, a sudden cry was heard on the left of the chair, 'Mr. Adams is dying!' Turning our eyes to the spot, we beheld the venerable man in the act of falling over the left arm of his chair, while his right arm was extended, grasping his desk for support. He would have dropped upon the floor had he not been caught in the arms of the member sitting next him. A great sensation was created in the House: members from all quarters rushing from their seats, and gathering round the fallen statesman, who was immediately lifted into the area in front of the clerk's table. The Speaker instantly suggested that some gentleman move an adjournment, which being promptly done, the House adjourned."

So wrote the editors of the National Intelligencer, friends and associates of Mr. Adams for forty years, and now witnesses of the last scene -the sudden sinking in his chair, which was to end in his death. The news flew to the Senate chamber, the Senate then in session, and engaged in business, which Mr. Benton interrupted, standing up, and saying to the President of the body and the senators:

"I am called on to make a painful announcement to the Senate. I have just been informed that the House of Representatives has this instant adjourned under the most afflictive circumstances. A calamitous visitation has fallen on one of its oldest and most valuable members

-one who has been President of the United States, and whose character has inspired the highest respect and esteem. Mr. Adams has just sunk down in his chair, and has been carried into an adjoining room, and may be at this moment passing from the earth, under the roof that covers us, and almost in our presence. In these circumstances the whole Senate will feel alike, and feel wholly unable to attend to any business. I therefore move the immediate adjournment of the Senate."

The Senate immediately adjourned, and all inquiries were directed to the condition of the stricken statesman. He had been removed to the Speaker's room, where he slightly recovered the use of his speech, and uttered in faltering accents, the intelligible words, "This is

the last of earth;" and soon after, "I am composed." These were the last words he ever spoke. He lingered two days, and died on the evening of the 23d-struck the day before, and dying the day after the anniversary of Washington's birth-and attended by every circumstance which he could have chosen to give felicity in death. It was on the field of his labors-in the presence of the national representation, presided by a son of Massachusetts (Robert C. Winthrop, Esq.), in the full possession of his faculties, and of their faithful use— at octogenarian age-without a pang-hung over in his last unconscious moments by her who had been for more than fifty years the worthy partner of his bosom. Such a death was the "crowning mercy" of a long life of eminent and patriotic service, filled with every incident that gives dignity and lustre to human existence.

I was sitting in my library-room in the twilight of a raw and blustering day, the lamp not yet lit, when a note was delivered to me from Mr. Webster-I had saved it seven years, just seven-when it was destroyed in that conflagration of my house which consumed, in a moment, so much which I had long cherished. The note was to inform me that Mr. Adams had breathed his last; and to say that the Massachusetts delegation had fixed upon me to second the motion, which would be made in the Senate the next day, for the customary funeral honors to his memory. Seconding the motion on such an occasion always requires a brief discourse on the life and character of the deceased. I was taken by surprise, for I had not expected such an honor: I was oppressed; for a feeling of inability and unworthiness fell upon me. I went immediately to Mr. Winthrop, who was nearest, to inquire if some other senator had been named to take my place if I should find it impossible to comply with the request. He said there was none-that Mr. Davis, of Massachusetts, would make the motion, and that I was the only one named to second him. My part was then fixed. I went to the other end of the city to see Mr. Davis, and so to arrange with him as to avoid repetitions-which was done, that he should speak of events, and I of characteristics. It was late in the night when I got back to my house, and took pen and paper to note the heads of what I should say. Never

did I feel so much the weight of Cicero's admonition—“Choose with discretion out of the plenty that lies before you." The plenty was too much. It was a field crowded with fruits and flowers, of which you could only cull a few-a mine filled with gems, of which you could only snatch a handful. By midnight I had finished the task, and was ready for the ceremony.

Mr. Adams died a member of the House, and the honors to his memory commenced there, to be finished in the Senate. Mr. Webster was suffering from domestic affliction-the death of a son and a daughter-and could not appear among the speakers. Several members of the House spoke justly and beautifully; and of these, the pre-eminent beauty and justice of the discourse delivered by Mr. James McDowell, of Virginia (even if he had not been a near connection, the brother of Mrs. Benton), would lead me to give it the preference in selecting some passages from the tributes of the House. With a feeling and melodious delivery, he said: "It is not for Massachusetts to mourn alone over a solitary and exclusive bereavement. It is not for her to feel alone a solitary and exclusive sorrow. No, sir; no! Her sister commonwealths gather to her side in this hour of her affliction, and, intertwining their arms with hers, they bend together over the bier of her illustrious son-feeling as she feels, and weeping as she weeps, over a sage, a patriot, and a statesman gone! It was in these great characteristics of individual and of public man that his country reverenced that son when living, and such, with a painful sense of her common loss, will she deplore him now that he is dead. "Born in our revolutionary day, and brought up in early and cherished intimacy with the fathers and founders of the republic, he was a living bond of connection between the present and the past the venerable representative of the memories of another age, and the zealous, watchful, and powerful one of the expectations, interests, and progressive knowledge of his own. "There he sat, with his intense eye upon every thing that passed, the picturesque and rare one man, unapproachable by all others in the unity of his character and in the thousandfold anxieties which centred upon him. No human being ever entered this hall without turning habitually and with heart-felt deference first to him, and few ever left it without pausing, as they went, to pour out their blessings upon that spirit of consecration to the country which brought and which kept him here.

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was crumbling away. The glorious engine within still worked on unhurt, uninjured, amid all the dilapidations around it, and worked on with its wonted and its iron power, until the blow was sent from above which crushed it into fragments before us. And, however appalling that blow, and however profoundly it smote upon our own feelings as we beheld its extinguishing effect upon his, where else could it have fallen so fitly upon him? Where else could he have been relieved from the yoke of his labors so well as in the field where he bore them ? Where else would he himself have been so willing to have yielded up his life, as upon the post of duty, and by the side of that very altar to which he had devoted it? Where but in the capitol of his country, to which all the throbbings and hopes of his heart had been given, would the dying patriot be so willing that those hopes and throbbings should cease? And where but from this mansion-house of liberty on earth, could this dying Christian more fitly go to his mansion-house of eternal liberty on high ?"

Mr. Benton concluded in the Senate the ceremonies which had commenced in the House, pronouncing the brief discourse which was intended to group into one cluster the varied characteristics of the public and private life of this most remarkable man:

"The voice of his native State has been heard, through one of the senators of Massachusetts, announcing the death of her aged and most distinguished son. The voice of the other senator from Massachusetts is not heard, nor is his presence seen. A domestic calamity, known to us all, and felt by us all, confines him to the chamber of grief while the Senate is occupied with the public manifestations of a respect and sorrow which a national loss inspires. In the absence of that senator, and as the member of this body longest here, it is not unfitting or unbecoming in me to second the motion which has been made for extending the last honors of the Senate to him who, forty-five years ago, was a member of this body, who, at the time of his death, was among the oldest members of the House of Representatives, and who, putting the years of his service together, was the oldest of all the members of the American government.

"The eulogium of Mr. Adams is made in the facts of his life, which the senator from Massachusetts (Mr. Davis) has so strikingly stated, that from early manhood to octogenarian age, he has been constantly and most honorably employed in the public service. For a period of more than fifty years, from the time of his first appointment as minister abroad under Washington, to his last election to the House of Representatives by the people of his native district, he has been constantly retained in the

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