Newspaper Page Text
SStaklij (fimUtnlionuliM.
BY JAMES GEARD3STER.
TUESDAY .HORNING, MAY 10.
Angara Constitutionalist.
We regret that this paper evinces an unwilling- a
ness, or an incompetency, to understand ihe Re- g
puUican, and represent its positions might. Other .
engagements have prevented us from uoticing
earlier an article which appeared in that journal
some days ago, in which, we shall not say par- r
ticular pains were taken to misrepresent us, but we
were as effectually and grossly libelled to its read- §
ers as if a malice aforethought had prompted its *
would-be exposition.
This is the opening paragraph of an article j
which appeared in the Savannah Republican , of
the 4th inst., in reply to the comments which we c
made a few days ago, upon what was then its latest
definition of position m reference to the next Presi- j
dential election. In relation to the charges which j
our contemporary prefers against us in this para
graph iu the shape of regrets, we have only to say,
simply and truthfully, that we have never evinced l
any unwillingness to represent its positions aright,
but we do begin to suspect that we are incompe-
tent to understand it. Certainly we are incompe
tent to reconcile its different and conflicting utter-
auces upon the question of the policy and position
of the southern wing of the opposition in the next
contest for the Prcsideucy. And we apprehend
that a majority of its readers are laboring under
the same disability.
Iu its issue of the 25th of January, declaring
what should be the position of the southern w ing
of the opposition in 1860, the Republican said :
Should matters remain as they are, and the Re- 1
publican and Democratic parties both preserve their
organization, and each run a candidate for the
Presidency in 1860, a similar question will arise,
ansi we shall be called on to give it a calm, delib
erate and patriotic determination. All our inclina
tions are practical, and we think it the duty of
**y good citizen to direct his vote and influence
in such mauner as they will best subserve the true
interests and welfare of his country, even though
he may do it under circumstances anything but
conformable to his tastes and inclinations. He is
not responsidle tor those circumstances, for he
took no part in their creation ; and the only ques
tion will be, how shall he act that his views and
opinions may exercise the greatest influence in
directing the policy of the government, and saving
it from excesses and ruin? If this be the right
principle to animate us, and if the Charleston Con
vention should nominate a candidate not other
wise objectionable than that he holds to the gen
erally recognised principles of the Democratic
party, it appears to us that there will be no round,
patriotic reason for a division among the men of
ihe South. We can, see no alternative to which the
opposition coubl resort that would enable them better
to serve either the country or themselves. In fact, it
will be a necessity, from which there is no way of
escape consistent with duty.
In its issue of the 20th of April, just ninety days,
with three days of grace, after it had made the de
claration we have quoted above, the Republican
again defining its position in reference to the next
Presidential election, said:
So far as we are concerned, our position in re
ference to the next Presidential election is simply
thr: We think the Democratic party, after a fall
*ou moused every trust that
>«* h**n comrtuUed to its hands; has got the
treat ft fees b-en
r* fbff«tc;l alt to u.* .
confide.; us of the people >
/ zmtnor this country to their government and tut
roust*/emstitutionat liberty. To that end weave
willing ,o cast our vote lor any sound, patriot. ‘
statesmen for President and Vice President, of
whatever name, whose past history affords a guar
anty of reform, aud especially of opposition to all
the destructive elements that are now seeking to
undermine the government and bring the Consti
tution into contempt. In this noble object we
shall gladly unite with Whigs, Democrats, Repub
licans, and meu of every flame, who, irrespective of
past associations, are willing to come forward and
rescue their country from impending dangers.
We shall object to the co-operation of no man , so we
are sure of electing those upon whom the country
may rely with an assurance of an honest, efficient
and faithful administration of its affairs.
In the first of these articles, it will be observed,
the Republican declared that it would be the duty
of the southern wing of the opposition, in the con
test of 1860, to sustain the nominee of the Demo
. cratic party; whilst in the last it declared that it
was the highest duty of the freemen of this coun
try to overthrow that party, and, with this end in
view, pronounced in favor of a coalition of all the
elements of the opposition. So, at least, we under
stood it, and so we represented it, in commenting,
a few days ago, upon these two irreconcileable ar
ticles. The Republican asserts that they are not
irreconcileable, and that we have grossly misrep
resented it, in the construction which we have
given to the last one. We have reproduced them,
that our readers may determine for themselves
whether the Republican is authorised to make
either of these assertions; but as we have no dis
position to bold our contemporary to the position
in which his article of the 29th of April placed
him, especially when he disavows that position,
we accept the following from his article of the 4th
inst., as the true statement of his position, in re
ference to the policy of the southern opposition in
the next Presidential election. It is his latest, and
we trust will be his last pronunciamento upon the
subject:
So far as the opposition party is concerned, in
stead ofdesiriDg a union of all the anti-Democratic
elements, we have no wish or expectation that
such a consummation should be brought about.
We distinctly stated, or intimated, in our article,
that such a thing was both impracticable and un
desirable.
So far as regards the candidate, we would not
only not vote for a nominee taken from the Re
publican ranks and holding Republican doctrines,
but we should refuse to aid in the election of a
southern man, however sound he may be, who
would accept the leadership of that party.
M’lle. Piccolomini has taken passages for her
self and suite on the Vanderbilt, which sails June
4tb, for Southampton and Have.
The delegates to the Southern Baptist Conven
ts*;, which convenes on Monday, 2d inst, says the
Richmond Enquirer , at the First Presbyterian
Church, will number between eight hundred and
one thousand reverend gentlemen. It will be the
largest Convention of this denomination ever held
in tbefUnited States.
A national convention of homcepathists will
meet lr. Boston on the Ist of Jane.
The St. Louis directory, for this year, just pub
lished, gives the population of that city at nearly
one hundred and ninety thousand.
Sesiocs Accident. —We regret to learn that a
little boy, son of our worthy and esteemed towns
man, Mr. W. Jf. Strange, got his thigh broken by
trying to climb,upon a bale of cotton, at the depot
in this place, on Tuesday last, and but for the
timely aid.of a little negro, would doubtless have
resulied in more -serious consequences, as the
weight of the bale would have crushed him.
Savannah Republican, 7th inet.
Through the kindness of the superintendents of
the Borne and the Western and Atlantic railroads,
we are authorised to say that the delegates to the
Cherokee Georgia Baptist Convention will pass
over these roads free on their return home, by pro
ducing to the conductors certificates from the pre
siding officers of the convention that they are
delegates. The convention will meet at Dalton on
Saturday, the 14th inst. —Rome {6a.) Courier.
National Medical Convention.
The latest dates we have have from the National -
Medical Convention, in session in Louisville, Ky.,
are of the loth inst. We find the following tele- t
graphic dispatch in the Nashville Union and j
American: '
Four essays competing for the annual prize were s
rejected. <
A paper was read by Dr. Joseph Jones, of An- 1
gusta, Ga., on the chemical analysis of fluids and ]
secretions of the body in cases of malarious dis- i
eases. It was proposed to refer this paper to the |
committee on prizes for the annual prizes, but Dr.
Jones objected.
Medical Convention , Afternoon. —A committee ]
of five was appointed to confer with a committee ]
of the Medical Teachers’ Association respecting i
the Qualification of graduates of Medical colleges. \
Dr. Jones’ paper was referred to the committee on |
prize essays.
It is reported that the Administration ap
proves of Gov. Ccmming’s course in Utah.
The municipal election in Philadelphia, on
the Sd inst., resulted in the choice of the people’s
candidates for Treasurer and Commissioner, by
two thousand six hundred majority. The Demo
crats are in the minority in both branches of the
City Cc uncil. So says a dispatch to the western
papers.
[communicated. 1
Mount Vernon Contribution—Sons of
• Malta.
Mrs. Philoclea E. Eve— Madame: At a meeting
of Oglethorpe, No. 4, Independent Order Sons ot
Malta, it was unanimously resolved “that the sum
of fifty dollars be appropriated from the treasury
to the Ladies’ Mount Vernon Association, and that
a committee of three be appointed to present the
same to Mrs. Philoclea E. Eve, Vice Regeut for
Georgia.”
The undersigned having been selected a com
mittee, under the foregoing resolution, beg your
acceptance of the enclosed check for fifty dollars—
an offering from the Sons of Malta, in Augusta, to
a cause scarcely less sacred than that which, on a
late memorable occasion, appealed so successfully
to the sympathies of our brethren of Memphis.
The undersigned, in discharging this pleasant
duty, beg leave to congratulate you upon the sue.
cess which has crowned your patriotic devotion to
. the memory of Washing^; and wishing you still
, brighter results in the future, remain, very respect
fully, Y our obedient servants,
ti’LiEN Cummins,
, W». C. Sibley,
\ J. V. H. Allen.
To Messrs. Julies Cumming, Wm. C. Sibley, and
. J. V. H. Allen.
( ientlemen: The Sons of Malta belonging to the
> Oglethorpe Lodge, are received into our Order
1 with acclamation. Like to their namesakes of the
olden time, they come where their assistance is
• needed; they aid woman in her enterprise; they
j assist in rescuing the mcrid tomb of their country
f from desolation and decay, and thin snield that
' Kuljiy bus Jaiu. ,4f ,t!“: pr.cciual efll-
J iiw in ‘kte Slate m her &rb\ D , and a«r
. heart 11 rubs with gratemi pride at every sneces
e sive manifestation of their appreciation of her ef
' forts, and of her acceptability to them as an officer.
e The Regent, through the Monni Vernon Rioori,
"f the organ of that association’published in Pbila
. delphia, thus compliments our city: “The Vice
1 Regent of Georgia may well be proud of the noble
1 response her city has made to her earnest efforts
j in behalf of the association. Augusta, with a
. population of about twenty-two thousand, hascon
f Iribuled to the Mt. Vernon fund no less than three
i thousand two hundred and three dollars and six-
J ty-two cents, the largest contribution given by any
j city yet, in ratio of numbers and wealth.”
t Friends, we will do more than this.
Respectfully, Pbiloclea E. Evf,
Vice Regent State of Georgia.
From the New Orleans Picayune, Hay 1.
Effects of Crevasses.
The facts recorded in regard to the Mississippi
river the present season, suggest inferences that
shruld not be overlooked.
The prominent fact which cannot fail to incite
inquiry, is that at no point from Cairo to Memphis
has the river this season attained an elevation
• equal to the height of water recorded in 1858,
while from Princeton to this point, the water
, ranges from nineteen and-a-half to four inches
above flood marks of that year. At Princeton,
' Lake Providence and intermediate points, the wa
• ter is above the known marks of the last flood.
i Yet the Arkansas contributed less than in 1858 to
the volume of water which swells the Mississippi,
and comparatively no crevasses are recorded until
we reach the outlets into the great Yazoo valley.
Below the first of these outlets the remarkable
flood of this season really commences.
At Vicksburg, the elevation is nineteen and a
half inches above the highest point reached in
1858. At Natchpz, the height is several inches
above that recorded in the great flood of 1828.
Twenty-five miles below that city a large section
of river lands are now under water, that have es
caped all inundation since that memorable year.
At the mouth of the Red, at Baton Rouge, and
even here in New Orleans, the water is above the
highest record of 1858. Yet, as we leave Prince
ton, we come into the region of crevasses. Just
below Vicksburg the While crevasse is above half
in width. Indeed, between Princeton and
Natchez, the flood has wrought great destruction
—the river being at some points not far from fifty
miles in width. .
Now, if the drawing off' of water in immense
quantities does, as it is claimed, lower the surface
of the river either above or below the point of out
let, why is it that, from Cairo down to Memphis,
where the river bed has carried nearly all its water,
the river has not attained at any point the height
of 1858, by six and a half inches, while in the re
gion of unprecedented crevasses, and along the
whole line of the river below, it has risen many
inches above any lately recorded flood 1
It does not answer the question to say that a
greater quantity of water has been poured into the
Mississippi below Princeton, this year, than in
1858. Such is not the fact. Arkansas has not
been dangerously high during this season. The
Red river has |contnbuted but very little to our
present flood. The Yazoo has not risen above the
height recorded last year. Still we have unpre
cedented disasters in the upper river parishes of
Louisiana, and along the whole river line of Mis
sissippi, while in the extreme lower valley we
find the elevation of the river dangerous and un-
1 exampled.
The liver this year has poured over the banks
. at the lower part of Algiers, where no levee has
ever been built, and none ever before been needed.
r The facts this year recorded of the bar of tbe
Mississippi also are suggestive. While the water
at a low stage of the river spread over the large
1 surface between and near the passes, the bar be
came impassable, bat as soon as it rose above so
' as to give tbe mass of the river water a greater
’ velocity, twenty-one feet could be obtained ou the
passes, and Paso a I’Outre, where navigation bad
been tbe moat difficult, but where the current was
the mostrapid, became the easiest pass for entrance
or egress.
Is it not plain that as the waters of this river
are diffused, the velocity of the current is changed,
deposits commence, aod the plane of the river sur
face is raised ? Does it not follow that confining
tbe river within its own bed, increasing the quan
tity of water, increases tbs velocity and keeps down
the plane of the river’s surface ?
Pittsburg, May 7.—The loss by the steamboat
fire is one hundred and fifty-five thousand dollars.
Freights insured at ten thousand dollars.
YEGTTTSTY, GLA., WEDNESDAY, MAY 11. 1859.
- From the Mobile Register . May 8.
The Administration and Mr. Forsyth, i
To the Editor of the Register : c
Whatever doubts may have existed as to the j
title of the late Washington Union to .speak as the i
organ of Mr. Buchanan’s administration, there is g
none whatever as to the status of its alias, the i
Washington Constilulim. I know positively, my- >
self, that the plan to set this paper on its legs un- j
der the name of Mr. Bowman, was arranged at tho f
White House by the President and his cabinet, t
I know much, too, of the details of that arrange- <
ment, and by what nice adjustment of government j
patronage the organ was to be sustained, and other j
parties, who had a lien on that patronage, were to
>e reconciled. I do not mention this for the pur
pose of going into the question of the Presidential ,
propriety of this arrangement, but only to show
that I have a right to assume that what the Consti
tution savs about me is said by the authority of its (
principals, the President and his cabinet.
My trieuds well know that I have not been fairly
dealt with by the Democratic Administration, and
I have frequently been urged by them to state the
facts to the public for the purpose of defending my
reputation against the injury which it has un
doubtedly suffered from the duplicity of my Gov
ernment,’ and the misrepresentations of my ene
mies, founded upon its equivocal course. I should
have held my peace and refrained from what I am
now’ about to publish, had not Mr. Buchanan,
through his organ, aggravated the wrong he has
done, and permitted to be done to me, by au article
which appeared in that paper on the 21st ultimo.
This journal says I have “ declared war against
the Administration.” It would have spoken more
accurately if it had said that in withdrawing my
confidence from the Administration I had only imi
tated the example of the great body of the Demo
cratic party —an example which was set for me
while I was yet in a distant land. When I came
home, in November last, I discovered that “ gulf
of cold distrust” between the President and his
party, of which I wrote to the Register from New
York. 1 have since met hundreds of Democrats—
from New Orleans to New York—and I have yet
to meet the first one who does not regard the Ad
ministration as a lamentable failure, and as having
fallen away from the lofty policy settled for it at
Cincinnati.
Aside from any personal grievances, therefore,
I found that I had to take sides between the chief
and the body of the Democratic party, and I be
came satislied that the party had consulted its
safety and its honor in not holding itself responsi
ble for the weakness or the treachery which had
lured its head from the standard of pledges and
principles which I helped, as one of the commit
tee, to bear to him from Cincinnati to Wheatland.
I had no occasion to resort to my personal com
i plaints for the purpose of “ declaring war against
the Administration.”
There existed political reasons in abundance to
justify me and every Democrat, in the public de
claration that the Democratic party did not ap
prove and could not be held responsible for the
foreign and domestic policy of the Administration*
This course was essential to the salvation of the
party, because no party could survive a popular
election that bore upon its back such an accumu*
lated weight of inanity and violated pledges. But
, Mr. Buchanan has chosen to force me to speak of
’ my personal causes of discontent with him, and
has, through his organ, invented an afterthought,
! without a shadow of foundation in fact, to account
i for an act of injustice that is not capable of de
. fence—au afterthought in perfect harmony with
r the duplicity that preceded it.
I pass over ail the twaddle of the organ about
1 the “kind and friendly feelings ” of th/rresident
and Cabinet towards me, and that tha correspon
. dense #fcfc my mission will phew th
» ,» 4. «. L.J* v ipt * Al%
10 appreciate the species *. ‘ kindn-*s have re-i
’ ceived, an- as to the records of the fCpSrwbetit
• doing me justice, it is the knowledge v that fact
, I that constitutes the very groundwork r.l my com
’ plaint. If the government had not - illy endorsed
’ my every official act m Mexico, and said to me.
‘ “well done, good and faithful servant”—if it had
i recalled me and said, “we disapprove of your
» course,” I might have been mortified, but my lips
, would have been sealed. But to be endorsed and
approved, and even flattered—to be adorned with
‘ the garlands of high commendation, and then to
- be sacrificed on the altar of duty, admitted to be
I well and faithfully performed—is certainly not do
ing “ample justice,” and is a very odd way of
showing friendship and “ open and frank kind
ness.”
But if this pretence of friendliness towards me
is hollow and ill-timed, much worse has to be said
of the reasons given by the organ for not sending
me back to a post from which I was serreptitious
ly called for the purpose of getting rid of me.
Here are the reasons:
“It was obviously oat of the question to send
■ him back as minister to the Liberal government,
. simply because, whether rightfully or wrongfully,
' he is understood to have been the lirst foreign min
, ister to recognise the anti-constitutional revolution
' and the usurped government of Zuloaga. This,
for manifest reasons, must have rendered him ob
noxious to the Constitutional party, and to the Lib
; eral government of Juarez. The public interest,
therefore, required that a new man should be se
lected for this position, against whom no preju
| dices existed ; and, hence, the dissatisfaction of
Mr. Forsyth.”
( IJam sorry to be obliged to say it, but this brief
1 paragraph contains absolute and naked falsehood
I from beginning to end. I solemnly declare that
this article gives me the very first intimation that
| I have ever heard from the Administration of its
disapproval of my acknowledgement of the Zuloa
ga administration as the de facto government of
Mexico. Neither in the public despatches of the
department, in the private correspondence of Gen.
Cass, nor in very frequent conversations with the
President and Secretary of State, or any officer of
the government, has the thought ever been breath
ed to me that it disapproved of that act. If it
were true, surely, I should have been told of it,
else the government was derelict of its duty. I
gave my reasons in full to the Government for
that step, which was forced upon me by a sense of
• duty, but contrary to all my sympathies and incli
nations. Not one word of dissent to rny views
was ever expressed or to be implied, while its sub
sequent instructions virtually recognised the pro
priety of my course and.the soundness of my rea
sons for it.
The records of the department will shew that it
is unequivocally false, that 1 was the first foreign
minister to recognise the Zuloaga government.”
Just the reverse is the truth, for I was the last to
do it, and I waited until the last moment, in the
hope that something would occur to prevent the
unwelcome duty. When called upon to decide the
question, there was no other government
to be in existence. It was afterwards that the
Juarez Administration was formed at Queretara.
It is the very reverse of true, also, that I was ob
noxious to the Liberal party. I enjoyed the confi
dence and sympathy of that party in a high degree,
I was personally intimate with its leaders in the
capital, and in correspondence with many of them
out of it—my house was always their ready asylum
and refuge whenever in danger of liberty or life
from the tyranny of Zuloaga. Don Miguel Lerdo
de Tejada, the first man of the and the most
enlightened and liberal of all the Mexican public
men, was a safe guest m my house for over four
months, during the whole of which time my resi
dence was watched by government police spies, to
bear him to prison or to execution if he ventured
beyond my door. When General Blanco reached
Mexico with three thousand men to attack the city,
it was to me in Tacubaya that he committed his
military chest while the battle was going on, as
the known, tried and trusted friend of the Liberal
cause. It was to my notorious sympathy for the
Liberal party that I was indebted, for the hostility
and hatred of the Zuloaga government, resulting
at la£t in forcing me to break off my relations with
it. So far from being “obnoxious to the Constitu
tional party,” that party has reason to feel, and
does feel, under thelgreatest obligations to me for
the services it was happily in my power to render
it. But this is not the worst of this affair. The
President who authorises this charge against me,
faas been resisting my earnest entreaties and argu
ments for more than a year past to recognise this 1
very Liberal government to which he declares that :
lam “obnoxious.” The Liberal leaders all over
Mexico knew of my persistent efforts to induce Mr. 1
Buchanan to recognise and aid them, and it is be {
who stands in Mexico “obnoxious” to }be charge {
he makes against me. 1
The manifesto of the organ is all gammon. The t
reasons given are false per se t and not the genuine <=
ones for Mr. Buchanans course. What the true
reasons are, I have never been able to define. I i
have tried to find out from the President him- t
self, and to that end I addressed him the follow- i
mg letter, which, when penned, I never dreamed t
would be put in print. I make no apology for (
publishing it now. While no impartial man can t
read the history and believe that I have been i
treated with “kindness and consideration,” if he \
can discover the clue to Mr. Buchanan’s extraordi- i
narv conduct, he will do what I have not been (
able to do to this hour.
New York, March 14, 1859. *
Sir: Your course towards me with reference to *
the Mexican mission has been so strange and equi- '
vocal, that I feel it due to you and necessary to *
my own future guidance, at least to give you an j
opportunity of elucidating what is to me a pro- ■
found mystery. I do not know how far a Presi- i
dent of the United States may feel it to be infra j
dignitatem to reply to such a letter as I am about '
to address to you, nor do I claim any right to an 1
eclaircissement , speaking, of the 1
mystery which perplexes me. While for your '
executive actions you are most certainly not* 1
amenable to me, I may write to you as one gen- '
tleman of the Democratic party to another, and
your silence will be an answer sufficiently eloquent j
to be taken as an acquiescence in the correctness
of the light in which your course presents itself
to ray mind. As you have two more years of
Presidential service, and my profession as a
journalist will bring me m constant communica
tion with the public, it is desirable that my re
lations with you should be distinctly defined ; for
while I would do you no injustice through a mis
apprehension of the truth, vet if the truth be as
1 now believe, I cannot dissemble. Whether or
not you see fit to relieve or to confirm my impres
sions by an answer to this letter, my object will
have been gained in making my course and my
conscience clear. I shall be frank, and as brief
as possible.
Ever since your inauguration my friends in the
United States have constantly warned me that
you were anxious to remove me from the Mexican
Mission, and to be on my guard and prepare for
such a step whenever the slightest opening for it
should offer. At the same time justice obliges
‘ me to say, that whenever I heard from friends
who bad had direct communication with you on
1 the subject, they always reported, with one excep
‘ tion, that you your satisfaction at my
course, and that you had iio thought of recalling
1 me. That exception was at the moment of Sena
tor Benjamin’s charges against me, and when you
’ were not yet in possession of mj defense. In that
’ case you were reported to have said that you
r “were not prepared to say that I had done right.”
With Mr. Benjamin’s ex parte statement before
) you, I had no right to be surprised at this. In the
meantime, too, the Department of State had, in
[ its public dispatches, fully committed your Admin
-5 ietration to an approval of all my steps as Minis
’ ter, while Gen. Cass, in his private communica
\ tions, was warm and emphatic, even flattering in
r his commendation of ray course. And, finally,
* you did me the honor to depart somewhat from
*. usage, and to commend mv official conduct as
marked by “zeal and ability,” in your annual mes
-1 sage to Congress.
[ If you will give yourself the trouble to read a
. dispatch I addressed to the Department after re
i ceiving your instructions to “withdraw the legation
from Mexico,” you will find an account of the im
l pressions made by those instructions on the states
t men of the Zuloaga government.. These gentle
. men, fully possessed of the idea of my friends In
wBRsSS&R $ »r u 4mm
J ‘ .a*ter OMirt vow “withiirawal
t of the ‘gallon,” aijd your dispatch of a ship of war
t to take me borne, were but jo many parts of a
. solemn farce, meaning nothing of the least conse
, quence to the American interests of the Zuloaga
government, but having for their sole object, to
j dispose of the person of the then Americau minis
r ter—and they said, the unanswerable proof that
, President Buchanan intends nothing' more than
I this, and only affects to be offended with us, is that,
1 white he has called home the American minister,
, he has retained the Mexican minister at Wasliing
, ton. And in triumph they published in their of
' ficial journals that most extraordinary correspon
f dence between General Cass and General Robles,
on the occasion of the temporary leave taking of
the latter. I complained of the last act to General
, Cass, and I received from him a long but far from
j satisfactory explanation. There was no explana
, lion to be made. The effect was simply to make
[ me ridiculous, and to aggravate the difficulty of
the most trying position 1 then occupied before the
Mexican public; while the fact convicted you in
I the minds of Mexican statesmen of trifling and bad
faith towards me. And now, I beg to ask, if I
’ have not now a right to believe—what I rejected
’ then—that the people in the Mexican palace were
, most astute in their conjectures, sound in their
reasoning, and right in their conclusions? With
the lights before me, lam unable to doubt it. If
I am wrong, you alone can put me right.
I knew perfectly well, Mr. President, when I
. took my position of non-intercourse with the Zu
. loaga Government, that I was putting my official
i head on the block ; but you must pardon me for
not believing that under the circumstances, you
• were capable of chopping it off’. I had had the
fullest warning of the risk, and was perfectly aware
that the time to test the premonitions ofmyfriends
, had come. I was not obliged to lay my head there,
I might have shirked the responsibility and writ
ten home for instructions. But I thought it my
■ duty, and I took the step boldly and without hesita
tion. You did not leave me long msuspense. In
an instant you decided my fate. In hot haste you
sent a courier to me—so much so that the Secre
tary of State had to apologise for lack of ti me to
read and to answer in full my despatches. With
out a throb of compunction or a generous misgiv
ing you ordered the axe to fall, and thus immolated
me upon the very altar of my public duty and of my
Fersonal trust in your justice and magnanimity.
read all this clearly in the dispatches Drought to
me by Capt. Henry and in the accompanying cir
cumstances. The Mexicans were right, my Ameri
can friends were right, the American newspapers
were all right. Smarting under the consciousness
of the wrong you had done my reputation before
Mexico and my own country, in a private letter to
Gen. Cass, I frankly stated the case and claimed
it as my due that, whenever the relations with
Mexico which had been broken off upon an issue
made by me and approved by you, were renewed,
I should be sent back. And’ to make this act of
justice (and of policy too) as easy to you as possi
ble—not to be in your way—if, as I believed, you
wished to bestow the mission elsewhere, I said, if
you will give me this necessary endorsement to
falsify the accusations of my enemies that I have
not possessed your|contidence, I will, after a brief
period, resign the post into your hands. Arrived
at Mobile, with no intention to go to Washington, :
you called me there by telegraph. In Washington ;
I renewed the subject to you—you engaged to take
it into “just and calm consideration.” As often
as respect for your position would allow, I pressed 1
you for an answer. You always politely evaded it i
and kept me dangling in the Capital for two I
months in an awkward and false position before
the country, until finally in despair of getting from <
you a definite “yes” or “no,” I was forced to re- 1
lieve myself from an intoleradle embarrassment
by a resignation. For the purpose of giving you i
the opportunity which I supposed you desired, of ]
nominating my successor to the then Senate, I i
fixed my resignation for the fid of March. I was ]
right here too. t
I now come to the strangest part of this story, t
and the means adopted in it, are so immensely out j
of proportion to the apparent magnitude of the a
end they seemed designed to secure, that I am
filled with wonder and curiosity to comprehend it. 1
In July were dated your instructions to with- a
draw the legation. In the latter part of Septem- a
her came the ship of war to take me home. In t
October I sailed, and in November reached Mobile, c
In December I arrived in Washington by your a
orders. In February I resigned. All these events t
occupied a space of nearly eight months. At the
end of these eight months, you did not possess one v
important fact in relation to Mexican situation, I
which you did not have in the beginning. There t
had occurred no material change in the condition i
of affairs as I described them to you. The return
of the Minister under such gTave circumstances c
naturally led the world to believe that yon meant <
to follow up the “withdrawal” by some striking
action. Well, sir, during these whole eight months t<
—most critical oues fur American influence in Mex- y
ico—our relations there have been left in complete 1
abeyance. Nothing has been done beyond your i
recommendations to Congress, and thi3, although
the whole country was crying aloud for action, and t
our countrymen and the Liberals in Mexico were a
earnestly imploring it. Strange to say, the mo- 1
ment of awakening from this long tit of di-
plomatic inactivity is the very moment when t
my resignation took effect. Was that acci- |
dental ? Was there any new light cast upon the ;
Mexican question, after my resignation which did
not stream fully upon it before? It cannot be
averred. conclusion upon my mind is there
fore irresistible, that your policy of inaction was
adopted for and designed to be limited by, my offi
cial connection with the mission. The spell was
broken with my resignation. Your Mexican policy
was kept in a state of suspended animation, and
all our great interests were neglected for three
fourths of a year, for no better purpose than to get
rid of a Minister, who, according to your public
and official declarations, had faithfully done his
duty, and who, trustingly, gave you an opportu
nity of getting rid of him by bravely doing that
duty.
If you, in your message, and the Secretary of
State in his dispatches, were sincere and truthful
in your declarations that I had performed my
“duty with zeal and ability,” you were in justice
and honor bound to restore me to a position I had
lost by zealously doing that duty. You have reso
lutely refused to do this, and thus, as I conceive,
deliberately used your power and position, as the
President, to do me a great wrong as a man and a
public officer. What powerful motives have oper
ated upon you, lamat a loss to conceive. It can
not be on account of my attitude with reference to
your nomination in the Cincinnati Convention, be
cause my position there was precisely that of the
highly respectable and able gentleman you have
named to succeed me. Have I powerlul enemies,
whose demands for my sacrifice you were unable
to withstand? Havel inherited your dislike for
my father ? Or is it my school of Southern Rights
politics that is distasteful to you ? I repeat, you
alone a,i* e competent to solve the problem. If you
can do jUt satisfactorily, I shall be sincerely glad;
for, white I will not patiently brook deliberate
wrong or affect friendship for a Democratic Presi
dent who has committed it, I am far from being
exigent with my friends.
1 have the honor to be, very respectfully, your
obedient servant, John Forsyth.
To his Excellency, James Buchanan, Washington.
After a few days, Mr. Buchanan returned this
letter to me under cover of his own superscription
and frank, with these words endorsed on it: “Dis
respectful, ungrateful, and absurdly unfounded.”
Not choosing to accept such a reply, I rejoined in
the following:
1 New York, March 20th, 1559.
Sir: You endorse my return letter of the 14th
‘ instant—“ Disrespectful, ungrateful and absurdly
‘ unfounded.” You must pardon me for declining
1 to accept this as a just judgment upon its merits.
But being so in your opinion, I marvel that you
1 did not think it worth your while to give some
i reason in support of it, against the strong array of
’ facts and circumstances upon wbich the contrary
conclusions of that letter were based.
l J meant not to be “disrespectful,” because I
• know too well what is due to your position. I only
i stated what I verily believed to be the honest truth,
■ and in language as mild and courteous as was con*
sistent with its distinct enunciation.
I do not know what your charge of “ ingrati
l tude” rests upon; 1 did my duty as the Minister'
, of my country in wnd you have acknowl
edged it, Unafart£e extent of my obligation
i jot. Sou Uar.ny expeoi me i-> be "grateful”
t being removed from a mission which you did not
i bestow upon me, and under circumstances which
- you knew were wounding to my feelings, and, in
t my belief, prejudicial to my reputation.
) I Ihink an account might be stated between ns
that would throw the balance of obligation against
t you. Twenty years of my life hare been devoted
i to active labor in behalf of the unity and success
, of the Democratic cause—to the sacrifice of private
, fortune, the material interests of my family, and
■ more than once to the peril of my life. I know of
- no living gentleman wuo has reaped so abnndant
■ ly of the truits of Democratic unity in the South,
, as the present President of the United States,
f Your predecessor thought my services, supported
I by a good character, were worthy of acknowledge
i uient, and, unsolicited, sent me to Mexico. You
- requite them by displacing me in the middle of a
i term of service.
f Xoi is my letter “abruptly unfounded.” If it
i contained mi/ opinions alone, it might lay me open
i to the suspicion of a chafed and angry view of the
1 case. Hut I was the last of all the world to adopt
1 them. My friends believed and predicted to me all
I that my letter contains long before it became clear
; to my own vision. I really thought they were do
r ing you injustice, and defended you. 1 did not
1 heed the newspaper writers, who all the while in
f sisted upon the same tbrng. Indeed, it is not pos
sible to predicate a rational solution of your course
[ upon any other hypothesis than that of a strong
. desire and predetermined purpose to get rid of
| me. All my friends in Washington, and at the
. South, believe it—in fact, the entire public believes
, it. How, then, can my statements be “abruptly
, unfounded ?”
, 1 regret you have not thought it worth your
i while to disabuse my mind of its impressions, if
they are erroneous. So placed that i have noth
ing to expect from your administration, and could
not accept anything from it, if I had, I may ex
pect this regret in a disinterested spirit. I should
much prefer to be able to give the Democratic
President a cordial and confident support than to
go on my way under existing impressions, and if
it had been your pleasure to show me I bad done
you wrong, nothing would have given me more
satisfaction than to hare asked your pardon for
my misconceptions of your conduct ana character.
You have not chosen to do this, and I hare not
chosen to suffer you to rest under the belief that I
do not comprehend the true nature of your con
duct towards me.
I have the honor to be the President’s obedient
servant, John Forsyth.
To His Excellency James Buchanan.
This letter was neither returned nor answered.
I must say that I never thought either letter was
answerable. It is not possible for him to give any
friendly reason to me why he did not give me the
endorsement of my official conduct, which was all
I asked of him, upon my promise to resign mv
office as soon as I received it. It is absurd to al
lege, at this late day, mistakes on my part as a
reason for not sending me back—first, because I
did not ask to be sent back; and second, because
this excuse is a palpable afterthought. I put it to
the sense of the public, whether such a pretense is
not preposlerous on the part of the Administra
tion, when its Secretary of State wrote to me in the
strain of the following extracts, in July, 1857. In
a private letter Gen. Cass wrote:
“I told the President some days since that I
would write to you and assure you that you are in
his full confidence and that of his Cabinet, and he
desired me to convey to you the strongest assurances
to that effect.”
Again, upon sending me a project for a treaty of
cession of territory, Gen. Cass, also in a private
note, wrote:
“The dispatch of this date from the Department
will confide to you a great trust. » * *
I know how difficult is the task before you; we all
know it well, and are not over sanguine of succeßS.
If you succeed, it will be a source of great satisfac
tion to us; and if you do not, we shall not impute
the smallest blame to you, well satisfied that what
you could not effect, could not be effected under
any circumstances.”
I remark that this “difficult task” was nothing
less than to buy a large slice of Mexico, at a price
about one-fourth, of what the Mexicans valued it
at. I worked hard out the hard bargain,
but the Mexicans were too cunning to take the
contemptible offer, and Mr. Buchandn wouldn’t
allow me to increase the bid. After it was all over,
the department wrote me:
“Your despatches relating to the negotiations
which you proposed to the government of Mexico,
having been laid before the President, I have
to express to you his satisfaction with the manner
in which you performed that delicate duty.”
And, finally, when I was about to leave the
country, and the Administration had mv whole
course before it, Gen. Cass wrote me.
VOL. 38-IN O. 20.
‘‘^ t . was deemed proper to send a vessel of vrai
to bring you, as a public manifestation of the re
gard ot the government for your firm and truly
American conduct, under the critical circumstances
in which you were placed.'
1 S “j )mit » a^tei : thia, if it is not a little late for
the Administration to aver that it found fault with
any part of my conduct as its minister to Mexico?
i cannot, in justice, close this communication,
without thus publicly offering the tribute of my
thanks and admiration for the frank, kind anci
generous deportment, of the venerable Secretary of
fttate, in all his public and private correspondence
and personal intercourse with me. I feel a perfect
assurance that, had his voice been potential in the
\V hite House, I should not now have to write of
those idiosyncrasies of character, which are dis
coverable sooner or later to all who have dealings
with James Buchanan.
If, as the organ deolares, I had other friends in
the cabinet besides General Cass, I am very sure I
never seen the first evidence of it. In the
absence of such proof, and in the presence of their
conduct towards me, I do not believe a word of it.
I do not think that cabinet is friendly to any man
of my political complexion. If I had chosen to
rally the influence of my southern political friends
in Washington, and ‘protested through them
against superseding me for doing my duty, I knew
that the Government would not have dared to do
it. My friends offered me their services, and
warned me that that was the only way to deal with
the “sage of Wheatland.” I declined their offers
peremptorily, avermg that, as I was appointed to
Mexico, without as much as a hint, in the way of
: asking for it, and without the importunity of my
friends, I would not be indebted to such means for
going back. I left my case to the unbiased justice
and judgment of the President and cabinet. I have
i found out the value of the reliance.
And now, to avoid misconstructions, let it not
i be imagined that I hold Mr. Buchanan to be the
! Democratic party, and that, in losing my confi
, dence in him I have lost my fealty to my party, or
5 my abiding attachment to its principles. I may
* be a good Democrat, and not think very well of
s him. I should be no Democrat at all were Ito
i endorse all the measures and shortcomings of hi 3
i administration. John Forsytii.
» Mobile, May 1, 1859.
* From the Cleveland Review.
> Incident m the Life of an Engineer*
In returning from Philadelphia about the mid
r die of August, 1858, the cars were very crowded
and my companion in the same seat with me I
• found but to be a locomotive engineer, and in the
s course of our conversation, he made the remark,
i he hoped he had run his last trip upon a locomo
* tive.
' Upon making bold to ask him his reasons, he
1 gave me the following story, which since then I
have found out to be strictly true:
Five years since I was running upon the New
j York Central railroad. My run was from B to
7 R . It was the lightning express train, and
r it was what its name denotes, for* it was fast—a
, very fast run, and if I do say it, the old Tornado
j could go. I have seen her throw her six foot dri
-2 vers so as to be almost invisible to the eye. And
f let me here remark, it is supposed bv many that
j railroad engineers are a hard-heartetf set of men.
Their lives are hard, ’tis true, but I do claim to
[ have as fine a feeling, and a heart that can sym
-7 pathise with the unfortunate, as any part that
breathes. But to my story.
! About half a mile from* the village of B ,
there is a nice little cottage, but a few feet from
. the track. At that time a young, married couple
•• lived there. They had one child, a little boy about
, was sore to see him peeping throngh the fence
i when my train passed.
One line sunny 'afternoon we .behind time
i and running fast, nor did we atop at H
1 was to make np one hour before reaching R .
! We came up at a tremendous speed, and when
; sweeping around the curve, my eye following the
! track, not over two hundred feet ahead sat the lit
tle fellow ploying with a kitten which he held ib
■ his lap. At the sound of our approach he looked
. up and laughed, clapping his little hands in high
glee ot the affrighted kitten as it ran from the
track. Quicker than the lightning that blasts thfe
1 tall pine upon the mountain top, I whistled “down
. brakes,” and reversed my engine, but knew it wgs
i impossible to stop. Nobly did that old engine trV
i te save him. The awfnl|straining and writhing
of its iron drivers told but too plainly of the ter
t rifle velocity we had attained. I was ont of the
\ cab window and down on the cow-catcher in a
, flash. The little fellow stood still; X motioned
t him off and shouted; his little blue eyes opened
j wide with astonishment, and a merry laugh was
r upon his lips. I held ray breath as we rushed
. upon him, made a desperate attempt to catch him,
t but, missed, and as his little body passed, 1
. heard the feeble cry of “mother!” and the forward
_ trucks crushed his body to atoms.
e 0 God! that moment! I may live, sir, to be an
f old man, but the agony of that moment can never
f be erased from my memory. The cars stopped
, some rods from the spot, and I ran back as soon as
, possible. His mother saw the train stop, and a
r fearful foreboding flashed upon her at once. She
came rushing frantically to the spot where vfe
• stood. Never shall I forget the look she gave me
f as she beheld her first born a shapeless mass. 1 1
. would have given my whole existence to have
I avoided that moment 1 I have seen death in all Me
forms on railroads; and killed—l have seen all
[ this, but that little innocent boy! as he looked up
in my face, and was killed almost in my arms—ft
unnerved me, and from that day X made a solemn
vow never to ran a locomotive more.
That young mother is now in the Utica Lunatic
Asylum. From the hour her boy was killed reason
had left her throne. '<
He stopped, and wiped the tears from his eyes,
and said, “You may think it weak in me to shed
tears, but I cannot help it.” “No,” I replied, “but
think it noble; and, sir, would to God every man
had a heart as large as yours.”
I have often thought'since how few those who
give one passing thought of the man of strofig
nerve and slout arm, who guides them througt
darkness and storms, with the speed of the wittd,
safely to their journey’s end. They do not sor 1 a
moment turn their attention to the iron monstei
that is dragging them forward with fearful veloci
ty to meet friends or relations, or home and all Its
loved ones. They do not realise that the man who
guides the fiery monster, holds all their precious
lives at his command, and that the least negligence
upon his part could cause sorrow and mourning in
a thousand homes that are now waiting the retdrn
of absent loved ones. B. B. Hi
The Drouth is the Tropics.— The past seashn
has been as remarkable for drouth in the tropics
as for an unusual precipitation in the northern
temperate portions of this continent. A letter
writer who has spent the winter in the West Indies
and South America, says:
Never before have tne rivers been known to-be
so low, arid the effect upon the crops, as it does, af
ter unusually heavy rains in the wet season, has
been in many places disastrous. And it is currijus
that the drouth has been more severe as you ap
proach the southernmost line. In the islandjof
f’orto Rico, the coffee and tobacco crops will (be
very light, while in the southern States of the
neighboring Republic of Mexico the same coin
plaints are made. It remains now to be seen what
effect this irregularity of the seasons will have up
on the health of these countries.
Columbus {Oa.) Times, May .x *
Weights and Measures.—A friend writes us
from New York, that he has closed,a contract with
Mr. John W. Kissam, of tbatc\ty,to manufacture,
by direction of Gov. Joseph E. Brown, one hun
dred and forty setts of standard weights and mea
sures for the State of Georgia, to supply some of
the old, and all the new counties created since
1841, under an act of the last legislature. They
are to be delivered at Savannah in four months.
This is all right. Every county should have' a
standard of weights and measures, by which all
should be governed,— Atlanta Intelligencer, otHtift.
The Bark Angrlita.—ln the Court of Admiral
ty, yesterday. Judge Nicol presiding, the libel case
of the bark Angelita was argued. The case was
dismissed, and the bark given up to her owners.
Savannah Morning News, May 6.