KEEPING ONE'S FRIENDS IN COUNTENANCE.

581

M. Spalding, representative from Marion county. Alluding to Mr. Hardin, he said: "In original genius and natural reach of intellect, perspicuity of thought and power of analysis, in wit, in bitter and withering sarcasm, and invective, no man in the State was his superior."

Such are some of the things that others said and thought of him.* Further estimates of his character are made in describing him as a lawyer, and in alluding to the domestic and other special phases of his life. But to justly estimate it, will require a careful study of his whole career, from the humble beginnings of the farmer's boy, until the death of the lawyer and statesman, full of years and honor.

It will be nowhere pretended in these pages that Mr. Hardin was faultless, or his character free from infirmities. The diamond has flaws and there are spots on the sun. Compensating for his failings, however, he possessed a host of manly virtues. He was no Pharisee, and had a whole-souled and abiding contempt for a hypocrite. His shortcomings were those of his day and locality-and of genius and power in all ages. While calumny was ever snapping at his heels, he That he was averaged in personal virtue with his associates. saint," doubtless made him a broader man. He might well have justified himself with the reasoning of the philosophic Franklin:

no

"For something, that pretended to be reason, was every now and then suggesting to me that such extreme nicety as I exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated; and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself to keep his friends in countenance."†

*See Appendix, note E. Franklin's Autobiography.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

TH

CLOSE OF PUBLIC LIFE.

HE constitutional convention completed its labors in June, 1850. For a year following that event, Mr. Hardin was occupied with professional pursuits and the care of his private affairs. In the summer of 1851 he became a candidate to represent the Nelson district in the Senate, and in August was elected. In this it may well be assumed that he had some motive beyond the mere honor or the small profit of a seat in the State Legislature. Whether he sought some favor within the power of the Legislature to bestow-for example, the United States Senatorship, or, as seems more probable, desired to participate in originating, shaping, and completing that legislation necessary to put in working order the Constitution he had labored so zealously and diligently to construct, is matter for conjecture.

The first governor under the new Constitution was chosen that same August. The Whigs had nominated Archibald Dixon, of Henderson, for governor, and John B. Thompson, of Mercer, for lieutenant-governor; the Democrats, Lazarus W. Powell, also of Henderson, and Robert N. Wickliffe, of Fayette. In the selection of tickets each party had acted with undoubted wisdom and sagacity. All four were excellent orators, were well known throughout the State, had had large experience, filled many honorable posts with credit, and enjoyed the confidence of their respective parties. Dixon was a dashing leader a political Murat-brave, impetuous, and fiery, and widely separated from the emancipation element, at that period supposed to lurk in Whig coverts. Powell, to profound political acumen, united a magnetic quality of winning and holding friends, and was a very Talleyrand in party diplomacy. Wickliffe, nicknamed "greasy Bob,' was a talented scion of an old and influential family, whose very name was a tower of strength. Thompson-genial Jack Thompson—was the prince of good fellows, whose heart had been bereaved by death in his youth, and, thereafter, he had given all his affections to his friends, and these were mankind in general. The campaign was prosecuted with vigor, but Mr. Hardin took no part; in fact, he had scarcely

recovered from an antipathy to the gubernatorial office acquired some years before.

The result was that Powell, Democrat, was chosen governor, while Thompson, Whig, received the second place. It is, and has always been, a notable characteristic of Kentuckians to wear party harness very loosely, when the aspiration of a "clever fellow" (whereby is meant a genial, open, and generous spirit) is at stake. Powell and Thompson, falling in this category, outran their respective party strength.

During the following autumn, Mr. Hardin made a horseback journey of eighty-four miles to the small town of Calhoon, whither he went to visit his old friend Judge John Calhoon, then in ill health. Hartford was in his route, and there he lodged for a night. Referring to this occasion, Hon. Henry D. McHenry says: "I remember the last time Mr. Hardin was ever in Hartford. I called upon him at the hotel, and invited him to my father's house, but being informed of my father's absence from home, he excused himself. During the interview that ensued, I asked him about the story I had heard of the incredible distance he had thrown a stone in his school days. He said it was quite true, and he and I walked to a point on the hill, south-east of the present jail, which he designated as the spot where he had stood and thrown to the bank of the creek, distant four hundred and seventy-five paces. He described how he had cut soft stones in the shape of a watch crystal and learned the art of throwing so the concave side remained downward. He thus won a wager made with some boys. On the following day, I accompanied him a dozen miles on his journey."

He remained several days at Calhoon, during which time, the author, barely in his teens, remembers to have seen him-the first and only time. An old man sitting on the open porch of the principal hotel, his freshly-shaven face having a tendency to healthy reddishness, apparently of large frame, becomingly dressed, and seemingly wrapt in revery. Such was the picture. It is remembered that he called on Mrs. G, a widow of the town, not far from his own age, whom he had known in girlhood, and had not met in the interval. He had been an admirer, and jocularly professed to be much shocked to see no trace of girlish beauty left; but his old flame, not regarding the subject a matter for jest, took his remarks in dudgeon. On his return home, he observed to a person he met that death had laid its heavy hand on his old friend Judge Calhoon, and mentioned

certain signs of physical failure, which he rightly regarded as precursors of dissolution. Yet, while enjoying vigorous health and strength, death stood still near the speaker.

The Legislature convened Monday, November 3, 1851. Its members, for the first time, had been chosen under the provisions of the new constitution. It had been provided by that instrument that onehalf of the senators chosen should hold for two years, and the remainder four, and that, on the assembling of the Legislature, the length of the term should be determined by lot. Mr. Hardin drew a short term. Among his colleagues in the Senate, may be mentioned several who had been associated with him in the constitutional convention: William Preston, Richard D. Gholson, Thomas N. Lindsay, and James W. Irwin. Other well-known names were: Martin D. McHenry, of Shelby; Preston H. Leslie, of Monroe; John C. Walker, of Meade, and Sidney M. Barnes, of Estill. The House contained a considerable number who had sat with Mr. Hardin in the convention, and not a few brilliant men who had missed or not sought that honor.

No attempt will be made to trace the course of legislation during the session, nor to refer to the various and important questions discussed and decided. The most exciting events that arose were the election of two United States senators, something that rarely happens the same session. Why it happened on this occasion will presently appear. The term of Hon. Joseph R. Underwood, one of the Kentucky senators in Congress, was to expire March 4, 1853, and it devolved on the present Legislature to elect his successor. On joint ballot, the Whigs had a majority of eight over their Democratic adversaries, and so it was well understood that only a Whig could be

a senator.

At the opening of the session, Mr. Crittenden's name was brought forward by his friends, he at the time being absent at Washington, a member of President Fillmore's cabinet. His claims were not only based on his personal virtues and public worth, his long experience, his talents, and his patriotism, but also on the ground of party obligations. In 1848, Mr. Crittenden, at the behest of the Whig party, resigned his seat in the United States Senate to make the race for governor. It was urged by his friends that he had sacrificed the greater honor, already in possession, for the governorship, only to be obtained by a laborious struggle. He had borne the banner of his party with honor and to victory. But, notwithstanding all this, there was

That

lively opposition to Mr. Crittenden's senatorial aspirations. respectable element in his party, disrespectfully known as the "outs," insisted that he had been in office a lifetime; that, however great his services, he had been fully rewarded, and that justice demanded that he stand aside, and let others share in party honors.

The Democratic slogan, "rotation," so vigorously proclaimed in the then recent constitutional convention, was being echoed through the Whig ranks. Mr. Crittenden had, perhaps, not been sufficiently pronounced in his opposition to emancipation to win favor with certain ultra partisans in the pro-slavery wing of his party. Still, another unfortunate circumstance was a cloud on his senatorial sky. Mr. Clay had ceased to be his friend. The origin of this breach of ancient and oft-tried friendship is traceable to the presidential contest of 1848.

The Whig party had well nigh despaired of ever attaining national success on its defeat in 1844. As the election of 1848 approached, however, its hopes revived. The eyes of its leaders, with a common impulse, were turned toward the victor of Mexico-General Zachary Taylor. It is true General Taylor was not a statesman, nor versed in the policy of parties, or the administration of civil affairs. He was accounted a brave and honest man; a successful soldier, and the laurels of the Mexican war were fresh upon his brow. These virtues, added to the fact of his being a Whig, constituted his claims and qualifications for the presidency. Yet, as victory with Taylor seemed practically certain, the Whigs had early determined upon him as their candidate. Mr. Crittenden had very positive convictions on the subject, which he had freely expressed. It was understood that Mr. Clay acquiesced in these views until within a comparatively short period preceding the meeting of the national convention. But he visited the Eastern States in the spring of 1848, and while there had received assurances that he could not only be elected to the presidency, but that he could obtain a larger vote than General Taylor. On his return to the West, he accordingly announced himself a candidate in a published card. Mr. Crittenden immediately notified General Taylor's friends that, in obedience to both public duty and private inclination, he would support Mr. Clay. Kentucky, however, was so largely committed to General Taylor, that it was vain to hope for more than its formal support for Mr. Clay, and even the accomplishment of that much was matter of doubt. Mr. Crittenden, and Kentuckians generally, recognized this as the situation, although Mr. Clay did not. On the first ballot, in the Philadelphia convention, seven of the twelve