An Autobiography of Davy Crockett

by Stephen Brennan

  After spending a pleasant afternoon, I returned to Phil adelphia in the horse-boat; the very one, I suppose, the fellow told of when crossing over. He said they had put in a couple of colts, and being very wild, they pitched ahead, ran off with the boat down the river and never stopped till they came up jam against the breakwater.

  Next morning I was invited to go on to Baltimore in the People’s Line of steamboats. I accepted the proposal and started in the Ohio steamboat. What is a little re markable is this: that the railroad line had always here tofore beat the People’s Line until that day, when we passed them, and came into port sometime before them. Whether this was because they had me on board or not, I do not pretend to say. Some said if I could tow a boat up the Mississippi, it was no wonder I could help one along on the Chesapeake bay.

  Many of my friends met me on the wharf at Baltimore and escorted me to Barnum’s, where there was a great crowd of people. They called on me for a speech. I made a great many apologies but none seemed to fit the right place and I was compelled once more to play the orator. As usual, when there is some speaking going on, there is a good deal of eating and drinking; so I eat and drank generously and retired.

  Several friends called on me and requested me to visit Major James P. Heath, member of Congress from Balti more. I did so and stayed a short time at his house and then returned to uncle Davie’s.

  Next morning I took the stage for Washington. When I arrived at the capitol, I found nothing new, more than they had just got through the appropriation bill and was taking the vote to postpone Mr. Boone’s resolution, set ting the day of adjournment. I went in while the clerk was calling the ayes and noes and when he came to my name, and I answered, every one was astonished to find me at my post. “Did not I tell you,” said I, “that I would not vote on the appropriation bill, but when you came to any thing else, I was ‘Charley on the spot?’” I walked about the house, saw my friends, and sat out the Congress. When the House adjourned for good and all, I started for home by the way of Philadelphia.

  DID you, my good reader, ever witness a breaking up of Congress? If not, you had better come and see for your self. The first thing that is done is to be sure that Sunday shall be one of the last days. That is because we get paid for Sunday and then, as they generally fix at the end of long sessions, on Monday to break up, a good many can start on Saturday evening or Sunday morning, with two days’ extra pay in hand, as they never calculate on much to be done on the last day of the session except to send messages to the senate and president that they are ready to adjourn. We generally lounge or squabble the greater part of the session and crowd into a few days of the last of the term three or four times the business done during as many preceding months. You may there fore guess at the deliberations of Congress, when you can’t hear for the soul of you, what’s going on, nor no one knows what it is but three or four, and when it’s no use to try to know. Woe betide a bill that is opposed! It is laid aside for further time that never comes. This is considered, however, by some of the great men as good legislation; to reject every claim, as if the American people was a herd of scoundrels and every petitioner a cheat and therefore they are doing the country service to reject every thing. Most of these worthies are content to vote no and will not trouble themselves to investigate. I don’t know what they are made of, for to me nothing is more delightful than to vote for a claim which, I think, is justly due to make them feel as if the government cared for them and their concerns and would pay what was justly due. What do you think would a petitioner care about going to fight for his country who had been dinging at the doors of Congress, ever since the last war, for some claim or other justly due him, but driven from post to pillar because he does not come within the spirit or letter of some general law or because if you pay him, you must treat others like him? This an’t the way with private people; they must pay or be called unjust and be sued into the bargain.

  When I arrived in Philadelphia, I put up at the United States where I felt a kind of being at home.

  Next morning I was informed that the rifle gun which was to be presented to me by the young men of Philadel phia was finished and would be delivered that evening and that a committee had been appointed to wait on me and conduct me to where I was to receive it. So, accordingly, in the evening the committee came and I walked with them to a room nearly fornent the old statehouse; it was crowded full and there was a table in the centre with the gun, a tomahawk, and butcher-knife, both of fine razor metal, with all the accoutrements necessary to the gun; the most beautiful I ever saw, or any body else; and I am now happy to add, as good as they are handsome. My friend, John M. Sanderson, Esq., who had the whole man agement of getting her made, was present and delivered the gun into my hands. Upon receiving her, I addressed the company as follows:

  “Gentlemen: I receive this rifle from the young men of Philadelphia as a testimony of friendship, which I hope never to live to forget. This is a favorite article with me and would have been my choice above all presents that could have been selected. I love a good gun, for it makes a man feel independent and prepared either for war or peace.

  “This rifle does honor to the gentleman that made it. I must say, long as I have been accustomed to handle a gun, I have never seen anything that could come near a comparison to her in beauty. I cannot think that ever such a rifle was made, either in this, or any other coun try; and how, gentlemen, to express my gratitude to you for your splendid present, I am at loss. This much, how ever, I will say: that myself and my sons will not forget you while we use this token of your kindness for our amusement. If it should become necessary to use her in defence of the liberty of our country, in my time, I will do as I have done before and if the struggle should come when I am buried in the dust, I will leave her in the hands of some who will honor your present, in company with your sons, in standing for our country’s rights.

  “Accept my sincere thanks, therefore, gentlemen, for your valuable present, one of which I will keep as a testimony of your friendship, so long as I am in exist ence.”

  I then received the gun and accoutrements and re turned to the hotel, where I made an agreement with Mr. Sanderson and Colonel Pulaski, to go with them the next day to Jersey shore, at Camden, and try my gun.

  Next morning we went out. I had been long out of practice so that I could not give her a fair trial. I shot tolerable well and was satisfied that when we became better acquainted, the fault would be mine if the var mints did not suffer.

  I was invited the next day to go up and spend the day at the Fish House on the Schuylkill, where the fathers of our country, in ancient days, used to assemble and spend the day in taking their recreation and refreshments. It has been a noted place ever since and is as beautiful as you can imagine. It is called the twenty-fifth state. They have regular officers and keep up the old customs with a great deal of formality. We amused ourselves shooting and catching perch. We had a nice refreshment and abundance of the best to drink. Every gentleman took a hand in cooking and the day was truly spent in harmony and peace.

  The next morning was the Fourth of July and I had received an invitation, while at Washington, to take din ner in the first district, at the Hermitage with the Whigs, and had accepted the invitation.

  At an early hour I was invited to the Musical Fund Hall, where an oration was to be delivered; and went with the honorable Messrs. Webster, Poindexter, Man-gum, Ewing, and Robbins; senators; and Mr. Denny, of the House of Representatives. We were conducted up to a gallery in the first story of an immense building, crowded below to overflowing with ladies and gentlemen.

  After the address of the orator, the audience was also addressed by all the senators and I was then called on. “A speech from Colonel Crockett,” was the cry all over the house. I was truly embarrassed to succeed so many great men, and where I saw so many ladies; but I found no excuse would do and so spoke.

  I then returned to the hotel, where I was waited on in a short time by a committee, with a splendid carriage, an
d was conveyed to the Hermitage, where I met a large concourse of people, and when it was made known that I had arrived, I was received with loud and repeated cheers and peals of cannon. I was conveyed to a large and cool shade and introduced to a vast number of citi zens who all appeared glad to see me. I partook of cool drinks of various kinds and amused myself among the people till near the dinner hour. We were then asked to walk out and take our seats on the stand, where the Declaration of Independence was read and a most ap propriate address was delivered by the orator of the day.

  I was then called on by the crowd for a speech but din ner was ready and we agreed to postpone further speaking until after dinner.

  The dinner, in elegance and variety, did honor to the person who prepared it. After the cloth was removed, and the regular toasts given, I was complimented with a toast.

  I rose and requested the company to do me the favor to repair to the stand and I would endeavor to address them from it, as the crowd was so great, it would be im possible for me to make them hear at the table and if I had to speak, I desired to gratify all. When we got out, I found a great many ladies surrounding the stand. I made my way to it among the crowd, who were loudly calling out for my speech, and addressed them.

  I then thanked the people for their attention and we repaired to the table, filled our glasses, and drank my toast.

  By this time, Mr. Webster, Mr. Robbins, and Mr. Denny arrived, and each were severally toasted, and each made a speech. The whole of the day was delightfully spent, everybody seemed pleased, and I enjoyed myself much.

  Shortly after this, the committee returned with me, and we went to the Chesnut street theatre. Here I met a great concourse of people, all in a fine Fourth of July condition. Immediately upon its being announced that I had arrived, I was called on from all quarters for a speech. I rose and made an apology that I was so hoarse, speaking so much, that I could hardly be heard. However, no excuse would be taken, so I was conveyed to the centre of the crowd and made them a short address. They gave me two or three thunders like you hear on the stage and then went on with the show.

  I soon left them and returned to the hotel and really was worn out with the scenes of the day, and making three off-hand speeches; and I have often thought since, that nothing could have induced me to have done so, if it had not been in Philadelphia and on the Fourth of July. I was stimulated by being in sight of the old Statehouse and Independence square, where the fathers of our coun try met, as it were, with halters on their necks, and sub scribed their names to that glorious Declaration of Independence.

  Next morning, I was introduced to the great powder-maker, Mr. Dupont, who said to me that he had been examining my fine gun and that he had wished to make me a present of half a dozen canisters of his best sports man’s powder. I thanked him, and he went off and in a short time returned with one dozen, nicely boxed up and directed to me. I then made my arrangements to start the next morning.

  While walking about that evening with a friend, we called in at a China importer’s store. I was introduced to him and after looking at his splendid collection for some time, he told me he had a wish to present me with a large pitcher. I thought the gentleman was joking at first, but he assured me that if I would accept it, he would pack it up in a box so that it could not break and I could carry it home safely. I thanked him sincerely for his friendship. It was sent to me and I carried it home and gave it to my wife, telling her that when I was away that pitcher should remind her that folks get thirsty and the same spirit which prompted the gentleman to give and should make us use it. I am sorry I forgot his name.

  Early next morning I set out for Pittsburg by the fast line and had a very pleasant trip over the mountains. I attracted much attention as I passed through Pennsyl vania, where it was known who I was. About the middle of the State I met with an old man in a tavern and asked him who was his representative in Congress. “Why,” says he, “Dunlap.” I told him that could not be, there was but one of that name in and he was from Tennessee. “Well,” says he, “it must be Crawford.” No, I told him, there was no Crawford in the House. “Well, hang it, then, it must be George Chambers.” “Ah, now you’re right; I know him well, he’s a good fellow, walks the planks straight. I hope you will reelect him.” “Well, I expect we will. I know nothing against him, only he isn’t on our side.” “What side are you on?” “Well, I’m for Jackson.” “Why,” said I, “I thought that was no side at all; he’s on top.” The old man looked at me right hard. Says I, “Mister, what makes you for Jackson?” “Why,” says he, “he licked the British at New Orleans and paid off the national debt.” “Mister,” says I, “who was the officers and soldiers that fought at New Orleans besides General Jackson?” He said he did not know. “Well,” says I, “they ought to have a part of the glory anyhow. Now tell me whose money pays off the national debt?” “Why, I suppose, old Jack son’s, as they keep so much talk about it.” “Well, now, my good old friend, suppose part of it was yours, and part mine, and part everybody’s else; and suppose he would have been broke of his office if he had not paid out what a law of Congress made twenty years ago, provided for paying, what is the glory of the whole of this?” He looked kind of stumped. I bid him good bye and told him that he ought to read both sides.

  I arrived in Pittsburg in the night and early in the morning went down to the wharf to inquire for a steam boat. I soon found Captain Stone, who commanded the Hunter. He said he had been waiting a day, thinking that I would like to go with him. That was true and I found him all sorts of a clever man. We were to start at ten o’clock. I returned to the tavern where I had put up and a great many gentlemen called to see me and, among others, Mr. Grant, brother-in-law of Governor Carroll, of Tennessee. He invited me to walk through the city and to visit his house, which I did, and he introduced me to a great many of the citizens. I returned and prepared for a start.

  My acquaintance in this place was very limited. I had been there before but my name had not made such a noise then as now.

  The marks of industry and enterprise are very visible in Pittsburg. It is a perfect workshop and is increasing every year in extent, beauty and population. The aque duct, and other splendid works terminating the great canal from Philadelphia, speaks highly for Pennsyl vania foresight and perseverence. What signifies the debt incurred by her? But it is no debt, in my mind. It is a noble, imperishing and increasing investment for pos terity and they will, to remotest ages, bless the men who have sustained so much abuse by the pack out of office and will consider them as the greatest benefactors of their State and of the nation. I say of the nation, for this canal is a new artery in the body politic, through which the life-blood of its future prosperity and union will flow for ever. Its present facilities have brought a part of the State of Ohio, in point of cost of transportation, within two days’ drive with a wagon of the city of Phila delphia, and it will be lower still. Is not this national? In its operation? Who can doubt it?

  I had heard it said, particularly in New York, that this same canal never could get along because their great western canal would carry all the produce and merchandize and I took some pains to hear a little about it, and am fully persuaded such is not the fact, and never can be. I was informed that the trade on this Pennsylvania canal was four or five times what it was when the first year ended and in a few years would be a profit to the State and, to me it seems clear that no one south of Pitts burg, in Ohio, and elsewhere, are going to send their merchandize way round by the New York canal and run the risks of the lake when they can put them snug into a boat at Philadelphia and land them safe, without risk, in Pittsburg. I wish I could agree with the Pennsylvanians as well in other respects as I do on internal improvements. What will she not do for her inhabitants in a few years when her twenty odd millions, invested in all her vast and various improvements, shall yield but a moderate profit! Her roads will all be paved, her rivers and creeks made navigable, her schools be free for high and low and her inhabitants free from taxation!!! Reader, thes
e events are sure to come.

  And here, let me address a word to my own State. Go on with what little you have begun and never rest until you have opened every facility to every part of our State. Though we are divided into east and west, we are all Tennessee. Give a “long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether” and every difficulty will vanish. Give our inhabitants a chance among the rest of the States and you’ll not hear so much of Alabama or Arkansas or Texas.

  Well, I’ve got a long slipe off from my steamboat, the Hunter, and I had better look up the captain. So off I starts, trunk, gun-case, old lady’s pitcher and all. “How’s the water, Captain Stone?” “Why, colonel, the river is pretty considerable for a run, but the water is as cool as Presbyterian charity and the old Monongahela is a leetle of the remains of what Abigail, the wife of old Nabal, carried as a present to David. Clear off the coal-dust out of your wizzand and give us a yarn about your tower.” Why, captain, may I be shot if you mightn’t run with this same craft of yours down through and out of Symmes’s Lower hole and back again, afore I could get through half what I’ve seen. I’ve been clean away amongst the Yankees, where they call your name Stunn.” “Me, Stunn! Well, it’s hard that as slick a fellow as me should go by such nick-names. Livin gingers! What d’ye suppose, colonel, they call me in Orlanes?” “I dare say, some hard name.” “Only think of the parly vous; some call me Mr. Peer, and some, by jingo, call me Mr. Peter; and you can’t beat it out of them. Only think of Sam Gun, the fireman; he took a spree with some of them Charlies, in Orlanes, and they begun to call him Mounsheer Fusil. Well, Sam bore it a good while but at last he told Joe Head, the engineer, that the first fellow who miscalled his father’s name should have a tip of his daddle. ‘Good,’ says Joe; says he, ‘Sam, only take care of their caniffs, as how they call them long knives.’ Well, it wasn’t long before Sam peeled the bark off of a parly’s knowledge-box, and so Joe and him had it with a cabin full of them. So Sam he got off to the boat, but the calaboos men got Joe so Joe he sends for me, and when they cum for me, they passed the word that Mr. Tate had sent for me. Well, off I goes to the police, and they axed me if I would go bail for Mounsheer Tate ‘No,’ says I; ‘don’t know him.’ ‘Yes, but you do, captain,’ said some one inside and when I went in, who should it be but Joe Head transmogrified into Mounsheer Tate!! Well, we got the matter explained and they all laughed and drunk friends. Well, colonel, here’s to you; I’m sure you didn’t get anything better anywhere and afore we quit, just tell me, did you see the sea-sarpint?” “Wo, indeed, I did not, although I spoke for him not to morning for Louisville, where I arrived the day after. My friends had provided for me at the Louisville hotel, the finest public house I have been in west of the moun tains, I was asked to make a speech to the people next day, which I agreed to, as I had no hope of getting off in a boat for a few days. It was published that I was to speak on the next evening so I was sent for in the morning to visit Jeffersonville Springs in Indiana across the river. I went and found a number of ladies and gentlemen, and after being introduced to the company, I was asked to make a speech to which I had but little objection, as I wished to discuss the question of the President vetoing the Wabash appropriation and yet signing the Van Buren, New York, Hudson river bill. This I did, and the people appeared well pleased. I partook of some of the good things of this life with them, exhorting all Jackson Van Buren men to turn from the evil of their ways and took myself off for the other side of the river.