The three most noted humorists produced by the South were Judge A. B. Longstreet, Judge J. G. Baldwin and Johnson J. Hooper. “Georgia Scenes,” the chief product of Longstreet’s humor, has been read for generations, and will continue to be. “Flush Times in Alabama and Mississippi,” by Baldwin, is not a work of so popular a cast as the preceding one, but has humor of a rare flavor, and “Simon Suggs,” the inimitable work of Johnson J. Hooper—these represent the humorists named and their best work. Each of these occupies a distinct orbit of humor, and the merit of each has been long ago established.
When Hooper saw that he was to be remembered chiefly by his “Simon Suggs,” he regretted the publication, for it had in it no index to any ambition which he cherished, but was dashed off at odd moments as a mere pastime. The author desired to be remembered by something more worthy than a ridiculous little volume detailing incidents of a grotesque character and the twaddle and gossip in the phraseology of the backwoods. But if the product be one of rareness, standing apart in its uniqueness and originality, it is great and worthy, and the author deserves to be raised on a popular pedestal to be studied as a genius.
Had Hooper not written “Simon Suggs” his name would have been obscure even unto forgetfulness, and his genius unknown to the world. That which he did was apart and above the ability of others todo. Its source is not the matter to be thought of, but the production itself. At any rate, it is the work by means of which the name of Hooper will live as Alabama’s chief humorist, and as one of the prominent merry-makers of the South.
Johnson Jones Hooper was a grandnephew of William Hooper, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. The subject of present discussion came from North Carolina to Alabama, and his first achievement in politics was that of his election to the solicitorship of the ninth judicial circuit, after a stubborn struggle with such men as Bowie, Latham, Spyker and Pressley. But neither the law nor politics was suited to the mind and temperament of Hooper. His being bubbled with humor, and the ridiculous was always first discerned by him, as it is by all humorists. In the quiet retreat of his humble sanctum, unannoyed by the bustle of the throng or the rasp of strident voices, was the native atmosphere of such a genius as was Hooper. It was in “The Banner” at Dadeville, then an obscure country village, that Hooper first attracted attention as a humorist. The droll scenes of the experiences of a census taker of that time, discharging his official function in the backwoods, where he encountered numerous ups and downs, were detailed in the rural paper already named, with inimitable skill.
In the retreat of the rural regions, where the first lesson learned alike by members of both sexes is that of independence and self reliance, and where is straightway resisted anyone’s interference with liberty, private affairs, and “belongings,” is the basis of a series of productions in his littleperiodical, which themselves would have given Hooper fame. The intrusion of a polite census taker into the cabin homes of the backwoods, where statistical information was sought about poultry, pigs, soap, cows and “garden truck,” and where the rustic dames resented such intrusion with broomsticks and pokers, afforded to this man of genius an opportunity to hit off some rare humor, and in response to his nature he did so. The scene, the actors, involving the polite efforts of the official to explain, and the garrulous replies of the doughty dames, embracing throughout the dialogue and the dialect, are depicted with the hand of the master and the skill of the artist.
With its columns weekly laden with merriment so rare, the once obscure “Banner” became the most popular journal in the state, and far beyond, for it was sought throughout the south and the comical stories were copied far and wide. Encouraged by the popular reception given these effusions, Hooper addressed himself to a more pretentious venture by the preparation of his “Simon Suggs.” He had the basis of the character to be delineated in a certain rude rustic of waggish proclivities who hung about the village of Dadeville, and was well known throughout Tallapoosa and the adjoining counties. With him as a nucleus, Hooper in the exercise of his genius, constructed his “Simon Suggs.”
That which gives to the production vitality is its unquestioned fidelity to a phase of life prevailing in those early days, while it is underlaid by principles which revealed actual conditions. The portraiture is that of an illiterate, but cunning backwoodsman,bent on getting the most out of life, no matter how, keen, foxy, double-faced and double-tongued who plied his vocation in the perpetration of fraud by cant and hypocrisy, pretended piety, and church membership.
Dynamic humor, occasioned by ludicrous dilemma, unconjectured condition, ridiculous episode and grotesque situation follow each other in rapid succession, and the effect on the reader is explosions of laughter. “Simon” appears under varied conditions, and is sometimes closely hemmed, in his artful maneuvers, but he is always provided with a loophole of escape, due to his long experience and practice. His various assumptions of different characters under shifting conditions, but remaining the true “Simon” still among them all, and using his obscure vernacular always, gives a kaleidoscopic change to the divers situations, and rescues the stories from monotony. The skilled manipulation with which the whole is wrought is the work of a remarkable genius. Nor is there break or suspension, neither lapse nor padding, but the scenes move and shift with fresh exhibition throughout, and the convulsive effect is irresistible. “Simon Suggs” was published by the Appletons of New York and for years spread with wonderful effect throughout the country, resulting in the sale of many thousands of copies. From the notoriety produced Mr. Hooper shrank with girlish sensitiveness.
In December, 1856, at a meeting of the Southern Commercial Convention, held at Savannah, Hooper was present as a delegate from Alabama. The daily press of the city announced his arrival with no littleflourish as one of the distinguished members of the body, and as the well known author of “Simon Suggs.” Doubtless this served to swell the crowd when the convention met at night in the Atheneum. On the assembly of the delegates, and after the usual formality of reception speeches and replies, and while a committee was out arranging for permanent organization, Judge John A. Jones, himself a humorous writer, the author of “Major Jones’ Courtship,” arose and moved that “Simon Suggs” be called on to give an account of himself for the last two years. The presiding officer, who had evidently never heard before of “Simon Suggs,” arose with great dignity and said, “If Mr. Suggs is present we should be glad to have him comply with the expressed wish of the convention by coming to the platform.” This was attended by a craning of necks and looks of curiosity in all directions, but “Mr. Suggs” appeared not. Hooper was seated in the pit beside Gen. Albert Pike of Arkansas, wearing a green overcoat, and was overwhelmed with embarrassment by the unexpected demonstration. He had the good sense to keep quiet, for his humor could more freely exude from the nib of his pen than from the point of his tongue. While to most others this would have been flattery, to Hooper it was an occasion of painfulness. He deprecated a notoriety won at so cheap a price, and by what he regarded a means so unworthy as that of a work like “Simon Suggs.” He sincerely felt that depreciation rather than exaltation was his, as the author of such a work, but in this he underestimated the power of his undisputed genius.
Hooper had a mastery of the English unexcelled by any southern writer. Hon. Alexander Stephens pronounced his report of the Charleston convention the finest illustration of the English language that had ever come under his eye. Mr. Hooper was made the secretary of the Provisional Congress of the Confederacy and for years was classed among the foremost of American political writers. He died at Richmond, Virginia, soon after the beginning of the Civil War.
For solidity and strength of character, forcefulness, and impressiveness of presence especially before a jury or an audience, the Hon. William M. Murphy was hard to excel. He was remarkable for antipodal elements of character. That is to say, the active and passive virtues were so set over against each other as to give him a unique combination of elements. While morally and physically courageous, he was gentle as a tender woman, and while he was a most formidable contestant in debate, he was just as remarkable in his generosity, and spurned any suggestion or opportunity to take undue advantage. While dreaded in disputatious combat, he was respected for his uniform fairness. According this to others, he was not slow in demanding the same in return.
Mr. Murphy was a North Carolinian by birth, and was brought by his father as a lad of fifteen to Alabama two years after the state had been admitted into the union. His educational advantages were without stint, his father being amply able to furnish him with the best equipment for life. First a student at the Alabama university, he afterwards completed his course at the university of Virginia, which was at that time the most famous of the literary institutions of the continent. Adopting law as a profession, the gifts and qualifications of Mr. Murphy brought him into speedy notice.
He was for a number of years devoted to the practice of his profession before he entered publiclife. At the age of thirty-four he represented Greene county in the state legislature. He brought to the office of a legislator an experience seasoned by years of study and court practice, with a native courage and coolness, coupled with a force of boldness of view that gave him one of the first places in the able body which constituted the legislature of 1840. Three marked elements of strength were his—great ability in debate, remarkable oratorical strength, and the tact of leadership. These at once won the station of the headship of his party.
At that particular time, the whig party in the house stood in the need of a strong champion. The Hon. James E. Saunders, of Lawrence county, was the leader of the democratic forces, and it never had an abler. Himself a remarkable man, he was regarded by no little degree of fear by his whig opponents, but he found in William M. Murphy a knight worthy of his steel. Mr. Murphy met the giant of the mountains in debate, was amply able to parry his well-directed blows, and was entirely equal as an advocate. His elements of oratory were noted, while he would deal his heaviest blows. It was a battle royal between the champions, the one from the hill districts and the other from the black belt. The sparring of these mighty men was a matter of interest, and became memorable for many years. They were equally matched, yet very dissimilar in a number of respects. Later, Mr. Murphy was the choice of his party for congress, but was defeated, after a remarkable campaign, by his kinsman, Hon. Samuel W. Inge.
In 1849, Mr. Murphy represented his district inthe senate of the state, and three years afterwards removed to Texas, but his stay in the state of the Lone Star was brief, for he returned to Alabama, and located as a lawyer at Selma. While never recognized as a profound jurist, he was without an equal as an advocate. His elements of oratory were singularly unique. His initial approach to a cause in the court was usually attended with a rugged and somewhat incoherent method, and it seemed that he had some difficulty in getting under full way, but when he did finally reach the point where his words would begin to warm by the friction of his own thought, his was as overpowering oratory as was ever heard in an Alabama court. Roused to a pitch where the cause came to possess the man, it was like a tempest crashing through a forest. Absolutely transformed in appearance, his manner, his voice, his logic would seem to catch on fire, and all the elements of the great orator would respond to his bidding with electrical facility. A series of thunderbolts could not have been more terrible, and the cogency of logic more overwhelming than when this remarkable man was at his best. It did not in the least savor of the rant, but the combination of the terrible and overwhelming with the utmost self-possession was that which made him inimitable. Invective, sarcasm, irony, ridicule, persuasion—all lent their quota to the torrent which swept like a Niagara. Nor could it be withstood. It was as irresistible as the flow of a mighty river. Men listened to him entranced, sometimes terror-stricken, at intervals pleased even unto delight, and always with interest. His cast of oratory waspeculiarly his own. He imitated no one, nor was it possible to imitate him.
Mr. Murphy was cut down by a stroke of apoplexy at a period of life when he was just fruiting into great usefulness and power. He was only forty-nine years of age when the fatal stroke came. He died at his home in Selma in 1855. Few men who have lived in the state have left a profounder impress, in some respects, than William M. Murphy. His towering courage was equalled alone by his uniform generosity of spirit. There was not a small quality that entered into his character. Open, frank, noble, brave, bold, gentle, courteous, and tender, he was all of these. His sympathy once enlisted made him one of the most loyal and devoted of friends and supporters. On the other hand, his opposition when once stirred was the invitation of a storm. But he never forgot to be generous even to the sternest of foes.
This galaxy of virtues with which his character was adorned awoke universal confidence and won him popularity not infrequently among his opponents. Set over against every stern or strong quality was a check or balance that held his character well in poise. This gave him a ponderous influence among those who knew him, as he was regarded as fair at any cost of advantage to himself.
For quietness of force and reservation of power, Honorable James E. Saunders was noteworthy. With a breadth of vision far above the ordinary, a remarkable insightedness, and absolutely calm in his poise, never disturbed by the clash or clamor of contest, he meted out his strength in proportion to the demand of the occasion which elicited it, and invariably left the impression that a fund of power was held in reserve for whatever emergency might arise. He enjoyed the advantage of all self-collected men. Never betrayed into warmth of feeling, he was oftener in position to disarm the opposition than he would have been under the sway of passion. There was an undertow of inherent force the seeming consciousness of the possession of which made Mr. Saunders perennially serene.
His qualities soon marked him for distinguished leadership in the legislature to the attainment of which leadership he came, not by self-seeking, but by dint of his recognized power. He had served as a legislator before 1840, but at that time, he rose to the first place in the ranks of his party.
There was necessarily inseparable from his bearing the consciousness of that which would have affected any man, with the sway of a strong political organization of which he was the recognized leader. Self-assertion becomes easy when there is little to be apprehended from opposition. The dominant democracy in the lower house of the Alabama legislature might have occasioned tranquility in theleader, even though it had not been natural. Mr. Saunders not only held the whigs at bay, but in awe. Nor was this the result of a hectoring spirit from which none was freer, but because of his quiet ability to dispose of obstruction which lay in his way.
This condition continued till there appeared on the scene William M. Murphy of Greene. A trained lawyer accustomed to the rough and tumble of the court room, naturally endowed with many strong points needed in an emergency like that which confronted his party in the legislature, as fully conscious of power as the leader of the opposition, and more disposed to yearn for a gladiatorial combat than to spurn it, Mr. Murphy was full panoplied as a leader of the whig party.
Unknown at first as to his qualifications, even to those of his own party affiliation, he was hailed with delight after that the first issue was joined. The two leaders were entirely dissimilar save in one particular—in courtesy and fairness. In these they were at par. But when met in combat Mr. Saunders was deliberate, plain, matter of fact, clear, cool, divesting a proposition of every seeming objection, and investing it with an atmosphere of transparency that seemed to place it quite beyond the pale of doubt.
Altogether different it was when Mr. Murphy arose to combat it. With a rugged sort of oratory he would seem to struggle with himself for the gain of a substantial footing, which when once obtained, an avalanche was turned loose, and under the thunder of its descent, gathered momentum as itproceeded, the old hall seemed fairly to quake. Meanwhile his opponent sat as stolid as a Stoic. By interruptions blows were given in the calmness of his power, but they were parried with the roar of a stentor. Thus surged the battle along partisan lines, the democrats possessing themselves in complacent consciousness of strength, while the whigs would catch inspiration under the demonstration of a leadership so splendid.
In all this never was Mr. Saunders in the least daunted nor was his masked power the least exposed. His coolness was equalled only by the vigor of his opponent. In nothing passive but always forceful and brave, he lent mightiness of strength by a serenity that challenged the admiration of the sturdiest opponent. In the gage and stress of conflict his thought flowed without the least break in its coherency and without the slightest disconcertedness. His equable temper never forsook him. To each contest he would bring the same tranquil poise and it was maintained throughout. Without hesitation he would face unblinking the severe ordeals to which he was subjected in the stormy legislative days when he moved a giant among the giants of Alabama. To be a legislator in those days meant much, for the people filled the seats of legislation with their choicest spirits.
Mr. Saunders was not of a bantering mien, but he relied on the strength of his logic into which he quietly injected a personal conviction so overpowering that it would seem that no position could be more impregnable, and thus it would look till it came to fall under the iconoclastic manipulation ofhis formidable opponent. To be able to have those days of partisan tempest reproduced in type would be to thrill thousands at this late time.
As chairman of the judiciary committee in the house, the service rendered by Mr. Saunders was fundamental to the interests of the state. Nor was any one more profoundly interested in the educational affairs of the state as was shown by his share in the establishment of the state university on a solider basis, of the board of trustees of which institution he was a prominent member. Mr. Saunders would have graced a higher station in the affairs of statecraft than that which he held, and in a wider orbit would have afforded an easier play of his strength. Dropping out of politics for a short while, he became a commission merchant in Mobile, but in 1845 he was appointed to the post of the port of Mobile, by President Polk, and after an expiration of his term of office he was on the electoral ticket in the campaign which resulted in the election of Pierce and King. Wealthy and hospitable, his was a typical southern home of the long ago.
A devout Christian philosopher and a sedate statesman to which were added the qualities of a superior man of business, the usefulness of Honorable James E. Saunders was incalculable.
For numerous reasons the name of Judge William P. Chilton is worthy of a conspicuous place in the annals of the great men who have made Alabama. He was a learned and incorruptible public servant, a patriot of the highest mold, a patient and manly gentleman in all his relations, and a typical Christian. He moved among his peers with universal esteem, and amidst the temptations of public life preserved a reputation untarnished even by a breath of suspicion.
Of a pleasing temperament, he was jocular as a companion, always agreeable in intercourse, mingling in true democratic style among all classes, and yet he never depressed an exalted standard of manhood even an iota. In his rigid fidelity to duty he represented the best type of the publicist, and alike in private and in public, exemplified a genuine manhood. Even under the laxest conditions and in the abandon of free intercourse with others, he never soiled his lips with unseemly speech or with questionable joke. There was nothing that escaped him which a lady might not hear—nothing that he could not utter in a public speech.
He was a man of vast and commanding influence which proceeded from the loftiest summit—that of a pure and exalted life. He was active in the stirring scenes which affected the period in which he lived; never shied a duty imposed, and always met his obligations in such way as to win the highest meed of public praise. Men came to know him sothoroughly that no pressure of a questionable matter was ever made, because his integrity was proverbial. From his well known standard of life, men knew where to place him on all questions which involved the moral sides of right and wrong. Such was the life, such the career of William Parish Chilton.
The time may have produced men his equals in the qualities already named, but it produced none superior to Judge Chilton. His was not an ostentatious display of virtue in order to elicit attention, for none were meeker, more placid and tranquil, but his was a silent influence which impressed wherever it touched. His condemnation of wrong was not of the demonstrative kind, but his disapproval was a silent expression which was always powerful. As one of the ancient philosophers said of one of his brother philosophers, “He always says the same thing about the same thing,” so it was in the uniform bearing and conduct of Judge Chilton.
In such an orbit he moved, in such an orbit he died, leaving in the memories of those who knew him and in the records of the state, a life of distinguished purity. He was in no sense a recluse, nor in the least offish; on the other hand, he was most cordial, and his piquant humor was relished as a season to pleasant conversation; but he would never sanction by even a smile an unseemly joke or expression.
His was an active life. Indeed his increasing labor was a subject of frequent comment. This necessarily brought him into connection with all classes of men, but he moved amidst all scenes without the smell of taint on his character. Hishabits of life were as regular as the movement of the hand on the dial face. By this means he was gifted with a physical manhood capable of severe strains of labor.
Beginning life as a young attorney in Talladega County, in co-partnership with George R. Brown, Mr. Chilton was subsequently associated in the practice of the law with his brother-in-law, the late senator, John H. Morgan, the strong firm including two other distinguished gentlemen, George W. Stone and Frank W. Bowdon. Chosen once to represent Talladega County in the legislature, Mr. Chilton was afterward elected to a seat on the supreme bench of the state, succeeding Judge Ormond. Later still, in 1852, Judge Chilton became the chief justice of the supreme court of Alabama, which position he held with great distinction for four years. Retiring from this judicial position, he became associated, in 1860, with William L. Yancey in the practice of the law in Montgomery.
When the Confederacy was created Judge Chilton was elected a member of the provisional congress of the young government and throughout its brief and fateful history retained his seat in that body. Speaking of his interest and activity, Honorable J. L. M. Curry, who was his congressional colleague, said: “It was a common remark that he was the most laborious member of the body.” He loved labor equally from an instinctive energy and from a sense of duty. On the floor of the Confederate Congress the opinion of no member was esteemed of greater worth than that of Judge Chilton.
In the rough and tumble of debate, which heenjoyed, whether on the hustings or on the floor of congress, he displayed rare humor, reveling in original epigram and in rollicking anecdote at the expense of his opponent. Fluent and eloquent, he was at home before a promiscuous gathering. His innocent, sparkling wit afforded him vast power in discussion. Among the ludicrous sallies used in opposition to another in a speech, and one long quoted in referring to the remarkable conservation of his opponent, he accused him of “reaching an extreme medium.” Before a popular assemblage he was irresistible in his joviality and power to produce merriment. Yet this was always done in such way as never to occasion offense. Nor did he ever yield to buffoonery. His contagious twinkle of eye, his sunlit face and his ready husbandry of dictum suited to the occasion, were so remarkable that he would sweep an audience as a breeze a field of grain. Yet his thrusts were so tempered by good nature that they left no sting nor pang of regret to the speaker.
Buttressed on a character such as he possessed, this variety of gifts gave to Judge Chilton immense advantage. It was known to be impossible for him knowingly to misrepresent or to take the slightest advantage and consequently the spell of his influence was overwhelming.
Among his numerous traits may be named that of his intense interest in young men. His counsel was frequently sought by a struggling youth because of his transparent frankness, readiness and responsiveness. He manifested a keen interest in his young brother-in-law, John T. Morgan, whowas perhaps more indebted to Judge Chilton than to any other for the substantial basis with which he began his brilliant and eventful career. It was not uncommon for him to seek an interview with a young man in whom he discovered gifts, and aid him to gain a solid footing.
When sixty-one years old, Judge Chilton was still active and alert, his natural force still unabated, and his spirit undimmed by years of activity, and, when it seemed that many years of usefulness were still his, he suffered from a serious fall, from which he never recovered. His death in Montgomery in January, 1871, was an occasion of state-wide sorrow. The legislature was in session at the time, and Governor Lindsay announced the sad fact of his death in the following communication to the general assembly:
“State of Alabama,“Executive Department,“Montgomery, Jan. 21, 1871.“Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Representatives:“It is with feelings of sorrow and regret that I inform you of the death of the Honorable W. P. Chilton of the city of Montgomery. This event occurred last night about the hour of 11. Judge Chilton was one of our best beloved citizens, eminent as a jurist, and the people of Alabama had often honored him with their public esteem and confidence. As a member of the legislature, as a member of congress, and as chief justice of our supreme court, he discharged his duties with devotionand zeal. In the halls of legislation he was a statesman, and he adorned the bench by his integrity and learning. The loss of such a man is a public calamity, and it is fit that the departments of the government of a state he loved so well should pay a tribute to his memory.”
“State of Alabama,“Executive Department,“Montgomery, Jan. 21, 1871.
“Gentlemen of the Senate and House of Representatives:
“It is with feelings of sorrow and regret that I inform you of the death of the Honorable W. P. Chilton of the city of Montgomery. This event occurred last night about the hour of 11. Judge Chilton was one of our best beloved citizens, eminent as a jurist, and the people of Alabama had often honored him with their public esteem and confidence. As a member of the legislature, as a member of congress, and as chief justice of our supreme court, he discharged his duties with devotionand zeal. In the halls of legislation he was a statesman, and he adorned the bench by his integrity and learning. The loss of such a man is a public calamity, and it is fit that the departments of the government of a state he loved so well should pay a tribute to his memory.”
The occasion of his funeral was a sad ovation of public esteem. The legislature, the bar, the fraternity of Masons, of which he was an honored member, together with multitudes of friends, sought on the occasion of his funeral to accord to Judge Chilton the merits of his just deserts.
For generations the name of Forsyth has been associated with distinction in the records of southern history. The original member of the family, Robert Forsyth, came from England to America before the revolution, and was a member of the military family of Washington. His son, John Forsyth, was at various times attorney general and governor of Georgia, a member of congress for a period of fifteen years from that state, minister to Spain, and was instrumental in procuring the cession of Florida. For six and a half years he served as secretary of state, during the administrations of Jackson and Van Buren. Robert Forsyth was the grandfather of John Forsyth, late of Mobile, while John Forsyth, Sr., was his father.
Enjoying unusual advantages, socially and scholastically, the subject of the present sketch turned them to great practical benefit. Among the advantages which he enjoyed was that of a residence of two years at the Spanish court during the administration of his distinguished father as minister to Spain. He was a graduate from Princeton University, from which he bore away the first honors of his class and delivered the valedictory address.
Entering on the practice of law at Columbus, Ga., he continued there but one year, when he located in Mobile, in the year 1835. He soon received the appointment of United States attorney for the southern district of Alabama, but the death of hisfather occurring in Georgia, necessitated his return to that state, where he remained for twelve years, having taken charge of his father’s estate and devoting his time to planting, the practice of law and the editorial management of the Columbus Times. It was during that period that he enlisted to serve in the Mexican war as the adjutant of the First Georgia Regiment.
He returned to Mobile in 1853, entered the lumber business, was burnt out, and entered again the field of journalism by purchasing the Mobile Register. In 1856 he was appointed by President Pierce minister to Mexico, in which capacity he served for two years.
Colonel Forsyth’s mission to Mexico was attended by much labor and perplexity, as the duty was imposed on him of adjusting varied and numerous claims against the Mexican government, which claims originated in the nature of the war waged by the Mexicans. There were claims for imprisonments, murders, confiscation, and others, and while Colonel Forsyth labored without abatement, he had but timorous support from the Buchanan administration.
As a matter of fact, President Buchanan was gravely absorbed in the rush of events which tended toward the approaching Civil War, which broke like a storm over the country in 1861, and his foreign policy was one of conciliation. The reason of this presidential policy concerning Mexico is now obvious. In view of the pending conflict in the American states, the hostility of Mexico, for any reason, would be serious.
As an earnest advocate of the rights of the citizens of the American states at the Mexican capital, Colonel Forsyth was gravely embarrassed by the feeble support lent by his government, and this led to the severance of his relations with the diplomatic service. Having resigned, he returned to Mobile and resumed his editorial work.
With qualifications so varied, he was frequently called into active service by the people. While his pen was actively employed, he was summoned to such important posts as that of mayor of Mobile, legislator, alderman in his adopted city, and other stations of public interest.
In March, 1861, Colonel Forsyth was sent, together with Messrs. Crawford of Georgia, and Roman of Louisiana, on a peace commission to Washington. There was but slight hope of accomplishing anything, and it is doubtful if there was any more serious intention involved in the mission than that of gaining time for a more efficient equipment of the South for the pending struggle. It was a time for tactics, and a play for advantage. The mission was a bootless one, and in due time the war burst on the country.
During the Civil War, Colonel Forsyth served for a time on the staff of General Braxton Bragg, meanwhile retaining his connection with his paper, for, after all, the pen was the most potent instrument in the hand of Colonel Forsyth. After the close of the war he proved to be one of the most masterly spirits in steering the state through the storm of reconstruction. The pen of no one in the South was more powerful during that chaotic period.Statesman, jurist and journalist, he was equipped for guidance in an emergency like this, and with the zeal of a patriot he responded to every occasion that arose. His excessive labor made sad inroads on his constitution, his health was broken, but despite this he was persistent in labor. He was of that type of public servants who sought not applause for its own sake, but was impelled by an unquestioned patriotism which yielded to demands of whatever kind, high or low, in order that he might serve the public.
Much as Colonel Forsyth did in the exercise of his superior versatility, all else was incidental to the wield of his prolific pen. He became the South’s most brilliant journalist. The compass of his vision was that of a statesman, and during the troublous times which followed the Civil War, the counsel of one like him was needed, and that counsel found most profitable expression through the nib of his powerful pen.
Day after day, for a long period of years, the columns of the Mobile Register glittered with thought that moved on the highest level and that found expression in polished and incisive diction. It was brightened by the loftiest tone of rhetoric, sustained throughout by the best strain of scholarship, never lapsing, either in tone or expression, into the commonplace. There was a fastidious touch in his style, a classical mold to his thought, which, while they pleased the most scholarly of readers, equally charmed the common people.
Under the sway of his forceful and trenchant pen the Mobile Register became one of the mostdominant factors in southern thought. That journal found readers in all the states, and more than any other in the South at that time, it won the attention of the metropolitan press. In no editorial sanctum has he been surpassed in rareness of diction, nor in power of expression.
There was a possibility at one time of Judge George Goldthwaite becoming a military man. After spending his younger years in Boston, where he had as school fellows such men as Charles Sumner and R. C. Winthrop, Goldthwaite became a cadet at the military academy at West Point. Among his classmates at the academy was General (Bishop) Polk, while in more advanced classes were R. E. Lee, Joseph E. Johnston and Jefferson Davis. Goldthwaite was within one year of the completion of his course when he became involved in a hazing fracas and quietly left the institution, as he knew what the consequences would be. At that time, 1826, Alabama was in the infancy of statehood, and he a youth of seventeen. His brother was at that time a rising young lawyer at Montgomery and the younger brother entered on the study of law under his elder brother.
The thoroughness of mental drill to which he had been subjected in the Boston schools, as well as at the military academy, made his headway in law comparatively easy, and at the end of the year, when he was but eighteen, he was admitted to practice and opened an independent office at Monticello, Pike County. The youthful lawyer did not lack for clients and he remained in this rural village for a period of several years, after which he returned to Montgomery, where his ability became widely recognized.
In 1843 he offered for the judgeship of the circuitcourt against the incumbent of the bench, Judge Abraham Martin, and was elected. In 1850 he was opposed by Jefferson Jackson, a gentleman of prominence at the bar, and was again elected. In 1852 Judge Goldthwaite was chosen a justice on the supreme bench, and four years later, when Judge Chilton resigned, Judge Goldthwaite became chief justice, but after serving in this capacity just thirteen days he suddenly resigned and resumed the practice of the law.
For three years after the beginning of the Civil War Judge Goldthwaite served as adjutant general of the state under the appointment of Governor Moore. Just after the close of the war he was elected again to the position of circuit judge, but in 1866, under the reconstruction acts of congress, he was removed.
In 1870 he was elected to the United States senate from Alabama. This brief and cursory survey of an eventful life affords but a bare hint of the marvelous activity and usefulness with which the career of Judge Goldthwaite was crowned.
Like most men of deeply studious habits, there was wanting in the bearing of Judge Goldthwaite a spirit of cordiality. His peculiar sphere was the court room or the law office. He had a fondness for the discussion of the profound principles of law and reveled in its study. An indefatigable student of the law, he was one of the ablest attorneys and jurists the state ever had. The statement of a proposition by him was as clear as a Syrian atmosphere and in its elucidation before a jury his diction was terse, crisp and simple, so that the veriest rusticcould understand it. Quiet in manner and with unadorned English he would unravel a knotty proposition so that every thread was straightened, and everyone who knew the meaning of the simplest diction could readily grasp his meaning. He was a master of simple diction.
On the bench, Judge Goldthwaite was profound, but always clear and simple. Every word seemed to fall into its appropriate place, and not a flaw was left in the statement of a fact or principle. In the social circle his conversation partook of the same lucid diction, revealing a fund of information and a versatility of learning quite exceptional.
Of a stocky build, he was not prepossessing in personal appearance, but when he began to speak his diction glowed with the heat of a quiet earnestness, and all else was forgotten but the charm of his incomparable speech.
Judge Goldthwaite achieved but slight distinction as a national senator, because it was a time when the voice of a senator from the South booted but little. The wounds of the Civil War were still fresh and smarting, and the calmness of his temperament and the aversion to hostile excitement forbade his flaring in empty speech, as would have been true of many another. As a matter of fact, his sphere was not the forum, and he had no taste for the dull routine of congressional proceeding.
Judge Goldthwaite’s mind was distinctively judicial. He served in the senate as a matter of patriotic duty, and not as a matter of choice. There was a peculiar condition which required his continued presence there, and to this demand he responded.It was a time that called for calmness and conservatism, and no one was better prepared to illustrate these virtues than Judge Goldthwaite.
His deportment in the National Senate challenged the admiration of all. A former classmate of Charles Sumner, as has already been said, he was the poles asunder from the New England statesman in the views entertained by Mr. Sumner, and often hotly expressed by him on the floor of the senate.
Judge Goldthwaite preserved a long and honorable career in Alabama, and left behind him a record of fame. He was far above the petty affairs of life, and lived and thought on an elevated plane high above most men. He was a student, a statesman, a jurist and a philosopher—all. He was an ornament to the state and easily one of its foremost citizens in all that pertained to its weal. He was without foil either in conduct or in character. His example was stimulating, and his influence elevating and inspiring. Any state would have been honored by the possession of a citizen so eminent.
The name of Travis is immortally linked with the tragedy of the Alamo, where the gallant Colonel William Travis was massacred with his devoted band in that historic fortress at San Antonio. The Rev. Alexander Travis was an uncle of the hero of the Alamo. Colonel William Travis was a resident of Alabama before he removed to Texas, and practiced law in Clarke County. Thence he removed to Texas, where he became one of the most prominent sharers in the struggle for independence.
One of the dominant traits of the Travis stock was that of cool courage. This was illustrated as much in the life of the heroic missionary in the woods of southern Alabama as it was shown by his nephew in the ill-fated fortress of the Alamo. Alexander Travis removed to Conecuh County in 1817, and was one of the pioneer settlers of that region. He was a man of peace, but this did not obscure the heroic impulses of his nature, for in grappling with the stern conditions of pioneer life, in seeking to bring them into due subordination to organized social conditions, unusual pluck was needed, not alone, but wisdom and prudence, as well.
While sharing fully in the hardships of the early colonizers of south Alabama, Mr. Travis, as a minister of the gospel, led in all movements in the emergence of that region from chaotic conditions to the higher plane of advanced society. Himself denied the advantages of an education, he was the foremost in all movements to provide for generalinstruction. He was the founder of the town of Evergreen, now a bustling little center on the Louisville and Nashville Railway, between Montgomery and Mobile. He founded the academy at that point, which school has given place in later years to one of the state agricultural schools.
There was a pathetic touch in the life of a man who would labor on his little farm, cleared by his own hands, in the wilds of south Alabama, and who, at night, when the labor of the day was over, would sprawl himself in his little yard before his blazing pine-knot fire, and study his plain English Bible—the only book in his library. Leaving his hut in the woods, each week, in time to reach distant settlements to preach on Sunday, he would throw his little wallet of cotton cloth across his shoulders, and set out on foot to trudge the distance, sometimes of forty miles, for the privilege of preaching to some distant community. He came to know every foot of the wide Indian trails that wound through the forests over a vast area, and knew every log on which he could cross the large streams in those bridgeless days of the long ago. Nothing foiled him in the excursions of good, for when the rains would swell the streams, he would strip himself, cram his apparel within his wallet, and, being an expert swimmer, he would hold his bag above his head with one hand, while with the other he would swim to the opposite side, redress, and onward plod his way.
Among the elements of abounding romance in our history, nothing exceeds in interest the intrepidity of this pioneer hero in contributing to the moraland spiritual side of the early days of our history. His punctuality in meeting his appointments, and his devotion to the gospel and to the people, won for him a confidence supreme. In those days when courts were not, and yet where conflicting litigants were, cases for final adjudication would be held in abeyance “till the preacher comes.” Causes were submitted, but he would never consent to a consideration of them till the contending parties would agree to abide amicably his decision. Such was the clearness and saneness of his judgment, the fairness of his spirit, and his profound sense of right, that every litigant would promptly accept this condition. He was jury, advocate, and judge, all in one, and for many years, in that interior pioneer region, he acted in this threefold capacity, while he rendered unrequited service as a missionary. His was a strange, strong, romantic life, spent for the good of others to the neglect of his own personal comfort. That class has dwindled to a list so small and rare that today, when similar devotion is shown, the world knows no higher designation for such a man than that of “crank,” yet it is the crank that turns things.
In later years and under better conditions, Mr. Travis came to ride the wide regions through on horseback, with his leathern saddle-bags beneath him. Under the tall pines which then grew in those southern parts, he would frequently stretch himself at night, on the green grass, tired and sleepy, with his head pillowed on his saddle-bags, and beneath the stars, he would be wooed to sleep by the moaning pines above him. His faithful horse was tetheredclose by to browse the wire grass and the native peavines, while the missionary would sleep and await the coming of the dawn. Without a cent of compensation, Alexander Travis labored through many eventful years, creating the means with his own hands with which to sustain his work, and uncheered by aught else than the consciousness of duty to humanity and to God.
With the expansion of population, and with the growth of prosperity, Mr. Travis came in the second half of his life to possess a measurable degree of wealth, but from a steady purpose of doing good, he never wavered. He was a man of commanding appearance, of natural dignity of port, and possessed of the natural assertion which these give; yet he was modest, and commanded esteem by his unquestioned qualities of leadership. There was no element of flabbiness in his character, no cant and drivel in his utterances, but in all that pertained to him he was a nobleman by nature. His judgment was incisive and discriminative, his poise collected, and while without the least exhibition of violence, he was courageous in his entertainment of views, and pronounced in their expression. In nothing did his courage so manifest itself as in his stoutness of spirit in the face of difficulty. Nothing that he regarded as possible baffled him, and while never stern, he was immovable from that which he conceived to be right, whether reinforced by others or not. He was a benediction to the state while living, and, being dead, he yet speaks.
John A. Winston enjoyed the distinction of being the first native born governor of the state. He was a native of Madison County, where he was born in 1812, and received his collegiate training at LaGrange College and the University of Nashville. His grandfather was an officer in the army of the Revolution from Virginia. The family name of Anthony was preserved in that given the governor.
Governor John Anthony Winston first devoted his attention to planting. He removed from the mountain region to west Alabama in 1834, and bought a fine plantation in Sumter County, one of the counties of the famous black belt. Six years after his settlement in Sumter County he was chosen its representative to the legislature. To this office he was re-elected and then chosen for the state senate, which position he continued to hold for ten consecutive years, becoming the presiding officer of that body in 1847.
The ability of Governor Winston became more generally recognized in 1848, when he went to Baltimore as a delegate to the national convention which nominated General Cass for the presidency. Mr. Winston made a speech before that body in the vindication of the national Democracy, which attracted widespread attention and brought him into prominence before the entire country.
During his senatorial career he entered into the cotton commission business in Mobile, which commercial relation he continued till the close of hislife. While not engaged in official duty his attention was divided between his planting interest and his business in Mobile, where he spent much of his time. The sterling worth of Mr. Winston, his clearness of judgment, range of comprehension, force of character and exact practicalness, together with his undoubted leadership of men and statesmanship, served to win for him an augmented public confidence, and in 1853 he became the candidate for governor of the state, and was elected without opposition. Two years later, at the expiration of his first gubernatorial term, he was opposed by Honorable George D. Shortridge. The campaign was one of unusual energy and even of bitterness. The state was agitated throughout, both candidates appearing before large and excited audiences in every part. Governor Winston was the democratic candidate, while Mr. Shortridge espoused the cause of the Know-Nothing or American party. Mr. Winston defeated his opponent by a majority of about twelve thousand.
Conditions had now conspired to make the farmer-governor the great leader of the Democratic hosts in the state. No man who has lived in Alabama ever had a completer grasp on a party organization than that had by Governor Winston at this time. Happily for the state, it was a power wisely used with disinterested patriotism. The direction of affairs was as devoid of the alloy of personal aggrandizement as was possible, and this was duly recognized by the public. Governor Winston went as a delegate-at-large to the Charleston convention in 1860, and after the nomination of Mr. Douglas heled the electoral ticket in the state. On the outbreak of the war he became the colonel of the Eighth Alabama Regiment, and as such served for twelve months, when he was forced to retire from the service by an attack of rheumatism which physically disabled him. His career as a soldier in the army of Virginia was in harmony with his general reputation as a civilian. His regiment was fiercely engaged at Seven Pines, because, being at the front, it was brought into sharp contact with the enemy. The fight was hand to hand, with odds in numbers against the gallant Eighth Alabama. Colonel Winston was at the head of his regiment, and, placing his bridle reins in his teeth, he led his force with a large pistol in each hand. When commanded to surrender his reply was that he had not joined the army to surrender and that was not his business. On his return home he devoted his attention to planting, and with unabated patriotism aided in every way possible the fortunes of the Confederacy.
In 1865 Governor Winston was sent as a delegate from Sumter County to the constitutional convention of Alabama, and was afterward chosen for a seat in the National Senate, but his seat was denied him, and he was afterward disfranchised by the radical forces then in control of the government. This closed his career of public service. He never recovered from the rheumatism contracted while in the service in Virginia, and died in Mobile on December 21, 1871, at the age of fifty-nine.
The combination of qualities entering into the character of Governor Winston was more than ordinary, all of which characteristics were based on aclear, solid foundation of remarkably good sense in all that he did and said, privately and officially. He was altogether devoid of pretense or of assumption. He moved on a straight line of impartiality and of unbiased thought. He did his own thinking and reached his own conclusions. When a conclusion was reached it was evident that he had gone over all the ground, had weighed and measured every possible consideration, after which was done it was futile to seek to dislodge him. His scrupulous firmness sometimes bore the aspect of sternness, and in the absence of a diplomacy to soften it a decision would sometimes offend the sensitive; but in view of duty, none of these things moved him. He was not without the element of gentleness and of profound sympathy, but above these rose his conscience, the dictates of which he would not disregard.
While governor he was not in accord with much of the legislation enacted, especially with respect to appropriations of the public funds, and there was now and then friction between the executive and legislative branches of government, but he did not hesitate to invoke the power of the veto when he deemed it necessary. Because of this he won the sobriquet of “the veto governor,” but to him principle overtopped popularity, and the protection of the common interest was a matter of graver concern than the good will of the general assembly. While not possessed of oratorical power on the stump or on the legislative floor, having a strident, rasping voice and the mannerism of a man of business rather than that of a trained speaker, he neverthelesswon the populace by his directness and sincerity. He retired from public life without the slightest tarnish on his conduct or reflection on his career. An indication of his solid popularity is found in the fact that the name of the county of Hancock was changed in honor of Governor Winston to that of his own.
In its phases Dr. Bestor’s character was many-sided. He was at once a planter, statesman, philosopher, educator and minister of the gospel. Richly favored by nature, his gifts had the polish of the classical lapidary and the expansion which comes of research, thought and experience. He towered immensely above the ordinary man and the babble of the multitude. Like Goldsmith’s ideal preacher, Dr. Bestor rose—
“As some tall cliff that lifts its awful form,Swells from the vale, and midway leaves the storm,Though round its breast the rolling clouds are spread,Eternal sunshine settles on its head.”
There was nothing of the maudlin or mediocre type in his character. Every movement and utterance, his face and bearing, all bespoke the man that he was. Dr. Bestor was a native of Connecticut, where he was born in 1797. Removing to Alabama by way of Kentucky when he was twenty-four, he began at once a career of usefulness which extended practically through a half century, a period which embraced all the great revolutions through which the state has passed. In none of these was he an idle spectator nor uninterested agent.
His educational advantages were the best the period could afford, and these afforded him the buttress of an ever widening sphere of knowledge. Possessing an intellect at once readily receptive andretentive, he was a diligent student in a number of fields of research. From surface facts he probed toward the bottom of principles and reached conclusions at first hand. If occasion arose for a modification of opinion on any matter, he yielded to new evidence, though it bore him to a position diametrically opposite to that originally held. It is the small man who never changes a viewpoint. The two classes represent respectively obstinacy and consistency. Obstinacy is the inflexibility of pride; consistency, the inflexibility of principle.
On reaching Alabama Dr. Bestor was impressed more by the lack of educational facilities than by anything else. In the valley of the Tennessee there were multitudes of young folk growing rapidly toward manhood and womanhood with scarcely any facilities of instruction. He at once became the pioneer champion of general and public education in the state, and was the first to agitate the question in a comprehensive way. He sought to supply the deficiency in the northern part of the state by founding the once famous school in those parts known as the LaFayette Female Academy. The school was patronized by the wealthy planters of that region, and became the initial means of contributing to the womanly culture of which the section was remarkable. Dr. Bestor was the principal of the school and devoted the culture of his young manhood to its promotion. Founded about the time of the last visit of General LaFayette to America, Dr. Bestor derived its name from that of the famous Frenchman, while to the cultured village which sprang up on the plateau on which the school was locatedthe name of LaGrange was given, in honor of LaFayette’s chateau in France.
This was the first school incorporated in Alabama. To the school the legislature of Alabama in 1824 deeded a half section of land. Though called an academy, the grade of the school was high and did advanced work. At that time Dr. Bestor was everywhere alluded to as the great educator, and his fame was spread throughout the state. Later, in 1830, the Methodist Conference of North Alabama, Middle Tennessee, and North Mississippi founded a school for young men in the village of LaGrange, which also became a famous institution. Three years later Dr. Bestor removed to Greensboro, taking with him as far as practicable all that pertained to LaFayette Academy, and in that chief town of the canebrake established another school and remained at its head for a number of years. Still later he removed to Sumter County, where for ten years he divided his time between preaching and planting.
It was while serving as a legislator from Greene County in 1837 that Dr. Bestor revealed the first vision of a comprehensive public school system for the state. His study and investigation of the subject led him to see that with prevailing conditions unchanged, Alabama could never emerge from its gloom of illiteracy. The scant facilities afforded by local or denominational interests were altogether inadequate to existing demands. Schools dotted the state over at favored points, but the ignorance in large areas of the state was little short of the dismal.
Stirred by conditions like these, Dr. Bestor soughtto go to the legislature that he might acquaint the representatives of the people with the results of his disinterested investigation. His plan was that which actually came to prevail many years later, but after he had passed away.
In the legislature he threw his cultured being into the single cause of education, procuring for it a special committee, of which he was made the chairman. He prepared with great pains and labor an elaborate report and a bill to be offered, and in due time it was submitted. The measure met with stout opposition, especially at the hands of B. G. Shields, of Marengo, the chairman of the general committee on education, who resented the policy of a special committee as a reflection on himself and his committee. In the opposition Mr. Shields was supported by Judge Smith, of Madison. But general committees had never done anything, and for that reason Dr. Bestor asked for a special committee.
The occasion was made a memorable one on the floor of the house by the contest which it provoked. Dr. Bestor husbanded all his resources and skill in the conduct of the contest and proved himself a giant in debate, and, though met by much passion, he preserved his coolness and dignity throughout the debate. He failed in his effort at that time, though his labor was not in vain, for the array of facts presented respecting the illiteracy of the state awoke wide interest which gave an impulse to the educational spirit of the state which has not ceased to this time.
Coupled with all his immense work was that of an active pulpit ministry. He was a great leaderin the Baptist denomination and rendered signal service in the thorough organization of the Baptist forces. With the exception of a few years spent in Mississippi, Dr. Bestor’s career was confined to Alabama. He died at Mobile in 1869.
There is much more in unwritten history that affects the destiny of the race than there is in that which is recorded. Gray’s “gem” in his Elegy, and his “flower” “born to blush unseen,” illustrate the fundamentals of the history of the race, wherein the bulk of worth is frequently unmentioned, and, if so, often scarcely. While Franklin Welsh Bowdon was by no means unknown, and while his worth was not altogether unrecognized, who that knows him in retrospect today as one of the most matchless orators of southern history? Who knows of his clearness of demonstration in presenting the most tangled and abstruse of problems? Who today knows not alone of the power already alluded to, but who that knows that his ability before a jury has never been surpassed in the state, or that he was peerless as a popular speaker before a promiscuous audience? Who that has learned of his subtle force of illumination of difficult problems or of knotty questions, in speech that glittered in its own chaste delicacy and beauty of phraseology after having passed through the crucible of his brain?
The history of others is perhaps more iridescent, because the drift of the currents into which they auspiciously fell bore them into fuller and more applausive view before the public eye, in which event it is the condition, and not the man who happens to be its representative, that deserves consideration. The force inherent in Frank Bowdon,and his superior ability to wield the elements already named, really make him a prodigy among the men who have made famous the history of the state. He was not ambitious to be showy, nor sought he special occasion to flash his powerful gifts, but when occasion did logically and legitimately come, he was prodigious.
Many men fall just short of accorded greatness because of the needed stride across the boundary over which others bound and catch the loud plaudit of the crowd and are borne to the crest of eminence. Many another receives undue applause because he boldly thrusts himself on public attention and forces recognition, while others, far superior perhaps, stand in manly disdain of bald tawdriness and the impudence of ignorance of which certain competitors are the innocent victims. Gifted men are usually, though not always, men of delicate taste, which is itself an element of real greatness. It is the ripest and heaviest ear of corn that hangs lowest. Mr. Bowdon, with the consciousness of his own power, which every strong man has, eschewed the cheap clatter of the flatterer, and always appeared in public to advantage because he was summoned thither. This, at least in part, affords an explanation of the absence of the fame which was justly his because of the possession of the vast powers already named.
Frank W. Bowdon was a native of Chester district, South Carolina, and was brought by his father to Shelby County, Alabama, while his gifted son was still a child of only three years. On the farm of a thrifty planter and in a home of piety and ofhospitality the youth was reared. It was one of those old-time southern homes where ease and elegance, culture and refinement were, and where children were reared free from over-exaction and with just sufficient freedom to develop real manliness.
Mr. Bowdon was educationally prepared for entrance on the State University, which he in due time entered and from which he was graduated, and entered at once on the profession of the law. He was admitted to practice and settled at Talledega. His ability as a speaker was equally suited to the court room and the forum. During the years of 1844-5 he served as a representative in the legislature from Talledega County. His ability in debate and his power of oratory brought him promptly to the front. Nor was he ungifted in the manipulation of conditions by skillful management in the execution of his chosen purposes. He was easily the peer of the foremost of a legislative body graced by such choice spirits as Thomas H. Watts, John Gill Shorter, Thomas A. Walker, James A. Stallworth, W. O. Winston, Joseph W. Taylor, William S. Mudd, Thomas J. Judge, and others. His reigning trait was decisiveness of conviction, which when once possessed did not lack the underpropping courage of expression, and in turn this expression was not wanting in the most radiant demonstration and persuasion. No haughty spirit nor arrogant port entered into his forensics, but, on the other hand, there was a refreshing repose that lit up the whole with a confidence that was serene and assuring.
Two legislative sessions terminated his career in the general assembly of Alabama, and on the occasionof the untimely death of General McConnell, as the representative in congress from the seventh district, a special election was ordered, with Thomas A. Walker and Franklin W. Bowdon as the candidates for the vacancy. The result was the election of Mr. Bowdon. This was followed by his re-election over Honorable Samuel F. Rice for the term next succeeding, and over General Bradford for the next following term.
For five years he held his seat in congress, a giant among giants. In a wider sphere there was ampler scope for the play of his power, and it was duly exercised. Brewer states that an English peer was present on one of the occasions when Bowdon spoke, and the Englishman pronounced the effort the ablest to which he had ever listened, and he had heard the greatest of both English and American orators.
Nor was Mr. Bowdon’s power confined to his oratory. It was abundantly illustrated in his law practice, and in the preparation of his briefs. Here were met, as elsewhere, the same logical incisiveness and clearness that distinguished his utterances while on his feet.
In his person he was most commanding. He was fully six feet high, of symmetrical build, and his handsome features, especially in the sweep of oratorical passion and fervor, were a study for the artist. Zealous in temperament, and confident of his footing in advance of any deliverance, he shrank not to meet in mental combat anyone who might desire to brook his views. He retired from congress voluntarily in 1851, and after a few years removedto Tyler, Texas, where he soon after died. Bowdon College, in Georgia, derived its name from this distinguished Alabamian.