Old times in Tennessee, with historical, personal, and political scraps and sketches, Part 23

Author: Guild, Jo. C. (Josephus Conn), 1802-1883
Publication date: 1878
Publisher: Nashville, Tavel, Eastman & Howell
Number of Pages: 1012


USA > Tennessee > Old times in Tennessee, with historical, personal, and political scraps and sketches > Part 23


Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).


Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45


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to pass on the inside, but Simon headed him off, and growled at him all the way down the quarterstretch, beating him out by a neck. Simon could come within a hair's-breadth of foul riding, and yet escape the penalty. Col. Elliott lost his temper, which he rarely did, and abused Simon, saying, 'not satisfied with mak- ing Paddy run forty feet further than the mare ou every turn, you must ride foul all the way down the quarterstretch.' The Colonel repeated these charges until Simon answered him with ' Well, Col. Elliott (as he always called him), I've won many a race that way for you, and it is the first time I ever heard you object to it.' During the absence of Col. Elliott and Uncle Berry, Dr. Sappington employed Monkey Simon to ride for him, and when the race came off Simon rode Oscar against Whip, the latter owned and run by his old friends and favorites, Col. El- liott and Unele Berry. Some uneasiness was manifested by the friends of Oscar, who was high strung and difficult to control, lest Simon should suffer him to exhaust himself early, and thereby lose the race. This suspicion was altogether groundless, for Simon always rode to win, if possible, and if he had a weakness it was in being too eager for success in a close contest. At the tap of the drum Oscar went off under a tremendous head of steam, and in spite of all Simon's exertions to restrain him, was soon fifty or sixty yards ahead, which served to increase the doubts of Simon's fidelity. Dr. Shelby dashed across the field and ordered Simon, in a most peremptory tone, to hold his horse, to which Simon replied, in his characteristic style, 'You fool, don't you see his mouth is wide open.' And Simon would have made the same reply to Gen. Jackson under the circumstances. The General said to Simon on one occasion, just before the horses started in a very important race, 'Now, Simon, when my horse comes up and is about to pass you, don't spit your tobacco juice in his eyes and in the eyes of his rider, as you sometimes do;' to which Simon replied, ' Well, General, I have done a good deal of work agin your horses, but (with an oath) none of them were ever near enough to catch my spit.' On another occasion, after Hanie's Maria had beaten the General's favorite, Pacolet, and when no friend dared to take a liberty with him, Simon, meeting him in a large crowd, said, 'General, you were always ugly, but now you're a show. I could make a fortune by show-


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ing you as you now look, if I had you in a cage where you could not hurt the people who come to look at you.' Many years ago I was riding on horse-back with Col. Elliott to the Nashville races, and when we reached a point about one mile from the ferry at Nashville, on the Gallatin road, he observed, 'Here is the place where negroes were annually hired in old times, and where I have often hired Simon, who, on account of his deformity and dissipated habits, usually cost me from $12 to $15 per annum. On one occasion Col. Robert C. Foster, guardian of the minor children to whom Simon belonged, conceiving it to be his duty, bid against me, and ran Simon up to thirty odd dollars-the then price of a good field hand. I concluded to drop Simon on the Colonel's hands, and take the chance of hiring him privately. Simon watched the bidding with the deepest interest, as he was most anxious to remain in the stable and enjoy the fame and emoluments of riding Hanie's Maria, and other distinguished winners. When I indicated that I would bid no more, Simon turned to the Colonel and said, in his peculiarly sarcastic man- ner, with his head laid back and one eye closed, 'Col. Foster, I am not a selling, but hirin' for only one year.' The Colonel, who was a man of high spirit and great dignity, replied, shaking his cane at Simon, ' You impudent scoundrel, do you know who you are talking to?' Simon, with the most aggravating cool- ness, replied, 'I think I do, and if I am not mistaken, you are the same gentleman who made a small 'speriment for Governor once'-alluding to a race the Colonel had made for Governor under very unfavorable circumstances, in which he was badly beaten. The witticism of Simon created much mirth, amidst which Col. Elliott got him at the next bid."


This most remarkable little African was much respected for his great decision of character, and his fidelity and integrity in the discharge of his duties as a jockey. The reviewer of Col. Peyton's narrative adds that "in the sphere in which he moved, Monkey Simon was the observed of all observers. If the tra- ditions that reach us at this late period may be credited, he was a most skillful jockey, and possessed to perfection those peculiar qualities that are ever essential to that character to assure success. He was not only able to hold a steady rein and maintain a grace- ful, easy seat, but no emergency ever came upon him so suddenly,


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so unexpectedly, as to cause him to lose his presence of mind or disturb his equanimity. No danger, no peril, was too great for his courage to encounter, and he moved with steady nerve in the face of the most appalling and threatening conflicts. His integ- rity was as pure as his courage was firm, and the richest bribes had no charms that he could not resist. He was unflinchingly true to his employers, and although a slave, bound by all the bonds of servitude, he cheerfully yielded, without the hope of adequate reward, the most implicit obedience. 'To conquer' was the motto emblazoned by nature upon his mind and heart, and glittering gold, threats, dangers, nor any character of circum- stances, were strong enough to come between him and success, when it was within his power to accomplish it. . His . .


character was admirable, because it was natural. In repartee he was inimitable, and was, ever readily in command of eccentric and comic sayings of the broadest humor, always mirth-inspiring, though frequently not wanting in ridicule, cutting, withering, almost blighting. His position and natural deformity gave him the broadest liberties with all, white and black, with whom he came in contact, and he rarely failed to shiver a lance, in repartee, with even the most eminent that he chanced to come in contact with, and he met the most distinguished men of the times. It seems strange that one so prominent in his day, with so many admirable characteristics, with such incorruptible integrity, and withal, so skillful in his particular sphere, should be so little known so soon after his death. The small circle of sportsmen in the valley of the Cumberland yet meet and recount the inter- esting incidents of his life, and tell of his victorious career (he had few defeats). Outside of this circle he is scarcely remem- bered. These reflections only serve to remind us how suggestive is the thought, 'Are we so soon forgot when we are gone ?'"


Of all his exploits on the track, no one is so well remembered by our old turfmien as his masterly riding of Hanie's Maria. It is a well-authenticated anecdote of Gen. Jackson that when, in the evening of his life he was asked by an old friend if he had ever undertaken anything heartily which he did not accomplish, he reflected for a moment and replied, " Nothing that I remem- ber, except Hanie's Maria-I could not beat her." And what about Hanie's Maria? When Mr. Goodman came to Sumner


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county in 1809, he brought with him a chestnut filly which he sold to James Hanie for $100, who named her Maria. In 1811, when she was three years old, he sent her to Green Berry Wil- liams (the same that Col. Peyton familiarly calls Uncle Berry) to be trained, and at the fall races of that year she easily carried everything her own way on the Nashville course. For two sea- sons following she ran away from every horse entered against her, which waked up Gen. Jackson to a lively resolve that she must be beaten. He canvassed Virginia, gave his friends a carte blanche to buy for him the fastest horse in that or any other State, and finally bought Pacolet of Wm. R. Johnson at a fabulous price, with which he made a race against Maria. The appointed day and hour came. Maria, with Monkey Simon on her back, took the lead from the string, and won with ease. And a little later, at Clover Bottom, Maria, under Monkey's saddle, took all the purses that were up.


Gen. Jackson was amazed at her achievements, and for the first and last time in his life threw up the sponge, offering to stake $50,000 that Maria would beat any horse, mare, or gelding in the world.


Maria was, during her career, matched against Yellow Jacket, a celebrated racer from Kentucky, backed by Gen. Jackson. The race was a dash of two miles over the Nashville course for $1,000 a side. Elliott and Williams gave orders to Monkey Simon to let Yellow Jacket take the track and pull the mare at the end of each quarter and fall back, their object being to get bets. Their order was strictly carried out. Gen. Jackson was thus led to believe that Maria could not win, and proposed to bet $10,000 that Yellow Jacket would beat her. Elliott said he would take the bet. Gen. Coffee, who was a giant, standing six feet eight inches, stepped up and endeavored to dissuade Gen. Jackson from betting, but not succeeding, he stepped behind Jackson, lifted him on his shoulders, and carried him out of the crowd. Jack- son, lying on Coffee's back, could do nothing but kick and fight the air, for the latter held him as tight as if he were in a vise, and continued to so hold him until the race was over. Monkey Simon, as he swung into the last quarter, applied the whip and won the race easily. This was fortunate for Gen. Coffee, for it Yellow Jacket had won, Gen. Jackson would certainly have held


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Coffee personally responsible for the manner in which he pre- vented his betting.


The reviewer correctly says, "It has long been a matter of jest in Tennessee, indeed it was quite as freely spoken of during the life of Gen. Jackson as it has been since his death, that the old hero conquered all his enemies, and those of bis country, whom he met; that he had overthrown the savage warriors of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and Florida, and forced the fiercest and most stubborn to humbly sue for peace; that he had met and conquered the picked army of Packenham at New Orleans, with a handful of raw militia and volunteers; had overthrown the friends of the United States Bank ; had met 'the beast with seven heads and ten horns,' as he always termed the nullification of South Carolina, and compelled submission; had forced the tariff into the channels he indicated, and had never known de- feat; but he was unable to conquer the little Maria. She alone was able to meet all the hosts of the Hermitage, and compel them to follow her to the winning-post. Rivals for fame, im- ported from beyond the State, suffered the same ignominious fate. Finally she went abroad, and amid the rich fields and verdant grass of the 'dark and bloody ground,' she met and conquered the hitherto invincible Robin Grey, the great-grandsire of the ever-to-be-lamented Lexington, the racer without a peer, the sire without a rival." Such was Hanie's Maria in Tennessee, but in 1816, when nine years old, she was sold and taken to South Carolina, where she was badly beaten. Indeed she never won a race after she left this State. Various were the opinions concerning her sudden failures. But the best reason given was that she had lost the careful nursing of Green Berry Williams and the masterly horsemanship on the track of her old jockey, Monkey Simon, who rode every race she made in Tennessee, and she was never beaten until she left the State. The uniform suc- cess of Maria, however, must to a great extent be accredited to her trainer, Mr. Green Berry Williams. He'came to Tennessee from Virginia or Georgia in 1806, with three thoroughbred horses, and found a home with Capt. Wm. Alexander at Hartsville, in Sumner county. He had been bred to the track, having as a boy been an expert rider of quarter races, and was an experienced trainer. He was a man of mark in his profession, and had a : host of friends.


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The love of fast horses, and, indeed, of all thoroughbred ani- mals, was a life-long characteristic of Gen. Jackson. Col. Pey- ton tells us in his graphic and happy style, with what delight even in the last years of his Presidency the old chief enjoyed the exercises of his horses on the race course at Washington. He says: "In the spring of 1834, while a member of Congress, I was invited by my friend, Major A. J. Donelson, Private Secre- tary of President Jackson, to visit without ceremony the stable of horses then being trained at Washington by himself and Maj. T. P. Andrews, of the United States Army, consisting of Busiris, by Eclipse, owned by Gen. C. Irvine; Emily, by Rattler, and Lady Nashville, by Stockholder, belonging to Major Donelson, and Bolivia, by Tennessee Oscar, owned by Gen. Jackson, which were trained by M. L. Hammond, who shortly after trained John Bascom when he beat Post Boy in a great match over the Long Island course. I assisted in timing all the 'trial runs' of the stable, and as the race meeting drew near, Major Donelson called to notify me that the last and most important trial would take place on the following morning, urging me to be on hand, and saying the General and Mr. Van Buren (the Vice President) would be present. Galloping out, I overtook the party, the Gen- eral being as calm as a 'summer's morning.' On our arrival the horses were brought out, stripped, and saddled for the gallop. Busiris, an immense animal in size, and of prodigious muscular power, became furious and unmanageable, requiring two men to hold him for Jesse, Major D.'s colored boy, to mount. As soon as Busiris began 'kerlaraping,' Gen. Jackson fired up, and took command, and issued orders to everybody. To the trainer he said, ' Why don't you break him of those tricks? I could do it in an hour.' Rarey could not have done it in a week. I had dismounted, prepared my watch, and taken my place immediately below the judges' stand for the purpose of timing, the General and Mr. Van Buren remaining on their horses in the rear of the stand, which was a safe and convenient position, as the quarter- stretch was enclosed on both sides down to the stand, no other part of the course being enclosed on the inside. The General, greatly excited, was watching Busiris, and commanding every- body. He said to me, ' Why don't you take your position there ? you ought to know where to stand to time a horse'-pointing to


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the place I intended to occupy in due time. I 'toed the mark,' lever in hand, without saying a word (nobody ever 'jawed back ' at Old Hickory when he was in one of his ways). Busiris was still 'kerlaraping.' 'Hold him, Jesse. Don't let him break down the fence; now bring 'em up and give 'em a fair start,' and flashing his eye from the enraged horse to Mr. Van Buren, who had left his safe position in the rear and ridden almost into the track below the stand, he stormed out, 'Get behind me, Mr. Van Buren, they will run over you, sir.' Mr. Van Buren obeyed or- ders promptly, as the timer had done a moment before. This was one of the anecdotes current among the stump speakers of Tennessee in the Presidential canvass of 1836, between Mr. Van Buren and Judge White, to illustrate Gen. Jackson's fatherly protection of Mr. Van Buren. Lady Nashville and Bolivia were next brought out, and demeaned themselves in a most becoming manner. The trials were highly satisfactory, and greatly pleased


the General, whose filly, Bolivia, a descendant of his favorite horse Truxton, was to run in an important sweepstakes at the coming meeting at Washington. He left the course in the finest humor, and on his way to the White House he gave us, in a tor- rent-like manner, his early turf experience in Tennessee. He was the most fluent, impressive, and eloquent conversationalist I ever met, and in any company took the lead in conversation, and nobody ever seemed disposed to talk where he was, and on this occasion I found him especially interesting-going back to the race of Truxton and Greyhound at Hartsville in 1805, and coming up to the great match between his horse Doublehead and Col. Newton Cannon's Expectation, which was run about 1811 over the Clover Bottom course, four-mile heats, for $5,000 a side, Doublehead being the winner. He alluded to the intense excite- ment and extravagant betting on the Truxton and Greyhound race ; said besides the main bet, he won $1,500 in wearing apparel, and that his friend, Patton Anderson, after betting all his money and the horse he rode to the race, staked fifteen of the finest horses on the ground belonging to other persons, many of them having ladies' saddles on their backs. 'Now,' said he, 'I would not have done that for the world, but Patton did it, and as he won, and treated to a whole barrel of cider and a basketful of gingercakes, he made it all right.' He recounted a thrilling in-


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cident, also, which occurred at Clover Bottom, after the race of Doublehead and Expectation, which illustrated his maxim 'that rashness sometimes is policy, and then I am rash.' 'After the race,' said he, 'I went to the stable to see the old horse cooled off (it was near the proprietor's dwelling), and about dusk I ob- served Patton Anderson approaching in a brisk walk, pursued by a crowd of excited men, with several of whom I was aware he had an old feud. I was bound to make common cause with Patton, and I knew that unless I could check them we should both be roughly handled. I met them at the stile, and protested against their course as unmanly, and pledged myself that Patton would meet any one of them at sunrise the next morning, and give satisfaction, thus delaying them until Patton had passed into the house. But the leaders of the crowd swore they intended to kill him, and I saw there remained but one chance for us, and that was to bluff them off. I knew they had no cause of quarrel with me, and that they supposed I was armed; putting my hand behind me into my coat pocket, I opened a tin tobacco box, my only weapon, and said, I will shoot dead the first man who at- tempts to cross that fence, and as their leader placed his foot on the first step, I raised my arm and closed the box with a click very like the cocking of a pistol (it was so dark they could not distinguish what I held in my hand), and, sir, they scrambled like a flock of deer. I knew there were men in that crowd who were not afraid to meet me or any other man; but, Mr. Van Buren, no man is willing to take the chance of being killed by an accidental shot in the dark.' I am aware that Mr. Parton, in his Life of Gen. Jackson, represents this tobacco-box exploit as occurring in the daytime, at a long dinner table, on the race- course, Gen. Jackson on the top of the table, 'striding at a tre- mendous pace to the rescue of Patton Anderson, wading knee- deep in dinner.'".


In the course of his remarks upon the character of Gen. Jack- son as a patron of the turf, the writer in the Spirit of the Times says: " No man could have been more perfectly enraptured with the manliest of sports, or with the high-mettled racer than the Hero of the Hermitage. He was a man of energy, courage, sound judgment, great prudence, and unconquerable will. He rarely espoused the wrong, and never quailed before the most.


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imminent and perilous dangers in defense of the right. The se- cret of his life was the magnetism by which he attracted and held everyone he came in contact with. He spoke only to be believed, for his friends knew him to be ever sincere, and that his judgment was rarely at fault. Therefore, they invariably believed that Gen. Jackson was right, and never stopped to ques- tion whether he was or not, for he inspired all with an implicit faith in the purity and justice of whatever he advocated. It is not drawing it too strong to assert that, from the day he entered military life and took a prominent position in the affairs of the West, there were hundreds and thousands who would have gone willingly to martyrdom in his defense. His positive character and natural aversion to a more politic course pursued so univer- sally to settle disputes and differences of opinion, made his ene- mies numerous and very bitter. He preferred this course 'to compromising truth with falsehood,' as he unhesitatingly declared. He never broke faith with friend or enemy, but with both alike his word was his bond. Innately polite, of tall, commanding stature, with manners that would have graced court circles in the most brilliant period, and a generous frankness in all his inter- course, he not only impressed all with whom he came in contact with his own feelings and sentiments, but actually carried them in bonds to the fold of his friendship. As a horseman, like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson, he was bold in the field and the chase, and upon the turf was far more successful than either. The racing annals of the West attest his numerous victories. He owned some of the finest horses of his day, among others, were Truxton, Pacolet, Greyhound, Doublehead, the Opossum filly, and Indian Queen. The celebrity of these, and other distinguished racers that he owned, spread over the country like the fame of their owner, and many were the challenges that he received at his beautiful home, at the Hermitage, to match his coursers against the flyers from other States. His pride and con- fidence in his own often impelled him to accept these challenges, and there is still a tradition extant in his old neighborhood, trans- mitted by the friends of his earlier years (most, if not all, of whom are now gone to the bourne of the dead) to their children, that he was never beaten in a match by a horse that was brought from beyond the borders of his State."


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THE EULOGIES OF JACKSON.


After the death of Gen. Jackson, on Sunday, the 8th of June, 18-15, eulogies on his life and character were pronounced all over the country, and in the year following a handsome volume was issued at Philadelphia entitled " A Monument to the Memory of Gen. Andrew Jackson : containing twenty-five eulogies and ser- mons delivered on occasion of his death." The authors of the eulogies thus published were George Bancroft, George M. Dallas, Benjamin F. Butler, Levi Woodbury, Benj. C. Howard, John Van Buren, Wilson McCandlass, M. H. McAllister, A. F. Mor- rison, Francis R. Shunk, Ellis Lewis, Pliny Merrick, Hugh A. Garland, John A. Bolles, Hendrick B. Wright, Andrew Steven- son, Thomas L. Smith, W. McCartney, Samuel A. Cartwright, William Irvin, J. George Harris, and Rev. D. D. Lore; and sermons by Dr. G. W. Bethune and Dr. Thomas Brainard. The same volume contains his proclamation against nullification, his farewell address, and his will, the whole preceded by a short sketch of his life. The book contains over four hundred pages, and passed through ten or a dozen editions, but has now gone out of print, as it is not found in our book-stores. The only Tennessee eulogy it contains is that pronounced at Charlotte by Col. J. Geo. Harris, on the 17th of July, 1845, the authorship of which in some of the latest editions is accidentally given to Gov. Isham G. Har- ris, at present one of the United States Senators from this State, in a foot-note of the publisher stating that the author was " sub- sequently Governor of Tennessee." Col. Harris was never Gov- ernor of the State. He entered the pay department of the naval service under President Polk's administration, and after a life of long and faithful service, is now in retirement under the act of Congress, to be assigned to active employment only in time of war.


Col. Harris' eulogy was such a worthy tribute to the memory of the great man he had known so well in the evening of life at the Hermitage, and whose confidence he had uniformly enjoyed, that it is deemed worth while to reprint in this connection the latter part of it, so accurately descriptive of the last scenes of the veteran's life, death, and burial. After reference to that part of the will in which his swords and trophies were given to Arm-


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strong, Donelson, and others, with patriotic charges to the sev- eral recipients, the eulogy concludes :


" How beautiful the injunctions which accompany the bequests of the dying patriot ! He had preserved his own sword pure and unsullied ; he had guarded the stainless emblems of a nation's gratitude as a priceless treasure ; and when he was approached by the great earthly conqueror of all mankind, he gracefully surren- dered them into chosen hands, with a prayer and a command that they should never be dishonored.


" Ner was he thoughtless of her who had watched his bedside for years. In recognizing and confirming a marriage gift to the wife of his adopted son, he said : 'This gift and bequest is made as a token of my great affection for her, a memento of her uniform at- tention to me, and kindness on all occasions. When worn down with sickness, pain, and debility, she has been more than a daugh- ter to me, and I hope that she will never be disturbed by any one in the enjoyment of this gift and bequest.'




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