University of Virginia Library

LETTER LXV.
In which Major Downing tells about the quarrel that he and
Mr Van Buren had at Concord after they went up chamber
to bed; and also declares his intention to run for the
Presidency.

My dear old Friend, you. — I dont know but you
might think strange on 't, that I should be back here to
Washington more than a fortnight, and not write to you.
But I hant forgot you. You need n't never be afraid of
that. We aint very apt to forget our best friends; and
you may depend upon it Jack Downing will never forget
the editor of the Portland Courier any more than Andrew
Jackson will forget Jack Downing. You was the first
person that ever give me a lift into public life, and you
've been a boosting me along ever since. And jest between
you and me I think I 'm getting into a way now
where I shall be able by and by to do something to pay you
for it. The reason that I have n't writ to you before, is,
that we have had pretty serious business to attend to since
we got back. But we 've jest got through with it, and
Mr Van Buren has cleared out and gone back about the
quickest to New York, and I guess with a bed-bug in his

ear. Now jest between you and me in confidence, I 'll
tell you how 't is; but pray dont let on about it to any
body else for the world. Did n't you think plaguy
strange what made us cut back so quick from Concord
without going to Portland or Portsmouth or Downingville?
You know the papers have said it was because
the President want very well, and the President had to
make that excuse himself in some of his letters; but it
was no such thing. The President could a marched on
foot twenty miles a day then, and only let him been at
the head of my Downingville company and he 'd a
made a whole British regiment scamper like a flock of
sheep.

But you see the trouble ont was, there was some difficulty
between I and Mr Van Buren. Some how or other
Mr Van Buren always looked kind of jealous at me all
the time after he met us at New York; and I could n't
help minding every time the folks hollered `hoorah for
Major Downing' he would turn as red as a blaze of fire.

And wherever we stopped to take a bite or to have a
chat, he would always work it, if he could, somehow or
other so as to crowd in between me and the President.
Well, ye see, I wouldn't mind much about it, but would
jest step round 'tother side. And though I say it myself,
the folks would look at me, let me be on which side
I would; and after they'd cried hoorah for the President,
they'd most always sing out `hoorah for Major Downing.'
Mr Van Buren kept growing more and more fidgety
till we got to Concord. And there we had a room
full of sturdy old democrats of New Hampshire, and
after they had all flocked round the old President and
shook hands with him, he happened to introduce me to
some of 'em before he did Mr Van Buren. At that the
fat was all in the fire. Mr Van Buren wheeled about
and marched out of the room looking as though he could
bite a board nail off. The President had to send for
him three times before he could get him back into the

room again. And when he did come, he didn't speak
to me for the whole evening. However we kept it from
the company pretty much; but when we come to go up
to bed that night, we had a real quarrel. It was nothing
but jaw, jaw, the whole night. Mr Woodbury and
Mr Cass tried to pacify us all they could, but it was all
in vain, we didn't one of us get a wink of sleep, and
shouldn't if the night had lasted a fortnight. Mr Van
Buren said the President had dishonored the country by
placing a military Major on half pay before the second
officer of the government. The President begged him
to consider that I was a very particular friend of his;
that I had been a great help to him at both ends of the
country; that I had kept the British out of Madawaska
away down in Maine, and had marched my company
clear from Downingville to Washington, on my way to
South Carolina, to put down the nullifiers; and he
thought I was entitled to as much respect as any man
in the country.

This nettled Mr Van Buren peskily. — He said he
thought it was a fine time of day if a raw jockey from
an obscure village away down east, jest because he had
a Major's commission, was going to throw the Vice
President of the United States and the heads of Departments
into the back ground. At this my dander began
to rise, and I stepped right up to him; and says I, Mr
Van Buren, you are the last man that ought to call me
a jockey. And if you'll go to Downingville and stand
up before my company with Sarjeant Joel at their head,
and call Downingville an obscure village, I'll let you use
my head for a foot-ball as long as you live afterwards.
For if they wouldn't blow you into ten thousand atoms,
I'll never guess again. We got so high at last that the
old President hopt off the bed like a boy; for he had
laid down to rest him, bein it was near daylight, though
he couldn't get to sleep. And says he, Mr Donaldson,
set down and write Mr Anderson at Portland, and my

friend Joshua Downing at Downingville, that I can't
come. I'm going to start for Washington this morning.
What, says Mr Cass, and not go to Portsmouth and Exeter
and round there! I tell you, says the President,
I'm going to start for Washington this morning, and in
three days I'll be there. What, says Mr Woodbury,
and not go to Portland, where they have spent so much
money to get ready for us! I tell you, says the President,
my foot is down: I go not a step further, but turn
about this morning for Washington. What, says I, and
not go to Downingville, what will Uncle Joshua say?
At this the President looked a little hurt; and says he,
Major Downing, I can't help it. As for going any further
with such a din as this about my ears, I cannot,
and will not, and I am resolved not to budge another
inch. And sure enough the President was as good as
his word, and we were all packed up by sunrise, and in
three days we were in Washington.

And here we've been ever since, battling the watch
about the next Presidency. Mr Van Buren says the
President promised it to him, and now he charges me
and the President with a plot to work myself into it and
leave him out. It's true I've been nominated in a good
many papers, in the National Intelligencer, and in the
Munch Chunk Courier printed away off among the coal
diggers in Pennsylvany, and a good many more. And
them are Pennsylvany chaps are real pealers for electing
folks when they take hold; and that's what makes
Mr Van Buren so uneasy. The President tells him as
he has promised to help him, he shall do what he can
for him; but if the folks will vote for me he can't help
it. Mr Van Buren wanted I should come out in the
National Intelligencer and resign, and so be put up for
Vice President under him. But I told him no; bein it
had gone so fur I wouldn't do nothing about it. I hadn't
asked for the office, and if the folks had a mind to give
it to me I wouldn't refuse it. So after we had battled

it about a fortnight, Mr Van Buren found it was no use
to try to dicker with me, and he's cleared out and gone
to New York to see what he can do there.

I never thought of getting in to be President so soon,
though I've had a kind of hankering for it this two years.
But now, seeing it's turned out as it has, I'm determined
to make a bold push, and if I can get in by the free
votes of the people, I mean to. The President says he
rather I should have it than any body else, and if he
hadn't promised Mr Van Buren beforehand, he would
use his influence for me.

I remember when I was a boy about a dozen years
old, there was an old woman come to our house to tell
fortunes. And after she'd told the rest of 'em, father
says he, here's Jack, you haven't told his fortune yet,
and I dont spose it's worth a telling, for he's a real
mutton-headed boy. At that the old woman catched
hold of my hair, and pulled my head back and looked
into my face, and I never shall forget how she looked
right through me, as long as I live. At last, says she,
and she gin me a shove that sent me almost through the
side of the house, Jack will beat the whole of you. He
'll be a famous climber in his day, and wherever he sets
out to climb, you may depend upon it, he will go to the
top of the ladder. Now, putting all these things together,
and the nominations in the papers, and the
`hoorahs for Major Downing,' I dont know what it
means, unless it means that I must be President. So,
as I said afore, I'm determined to make a bold push.
I've writ to Col. Crocket to see if I can get the support
of the western States, and his reply is, `go ahead.' I
shall depend upon you and uncle Joshua to carry the
State of Maine for me; and, in order to secure the other
States, I spose it will be necessary to publish my life and
writings. President Jackson had his life published before
he was elected, and when Mr Clay was a candidate
he had hisn published. I've talked with the President

about it, and he says, publish it by all means, and set
the printer of the Portland Courier right about it.

So I want you to go to work as soon as you get this,
and pick up my letters, and begin to print 'em in a book;
and I'll set down and write a history of my life to put
into it, and send it along as fast as I can get it done.
But I want you to be very careful not to get any of them
are confounded counterfiet letters, that the rascally fellers
have been sending to the printers, mixed in long
with mine. It would be as bad as breaking a rotten egg
in long with the good ones; it would spile the whole
pudding. You can tell all my letters, for they were
all sent to you first.

The President says I must have a picter of me made
and put into the book. — He says he had one put into
his, and Mr Clay had one put into his. So I believe I
shall write to Mr Thatcher that prints the little Journal
paper in Boston, and get him to go to some of the best
picter-makers there, and get them to do me up some
as slick as they can. These things, you know, will all
help get the free votes of the people; and that's all I
want. For I tell you now, right up and down, I never
will take any office that doesn't come by the free votes
of the people. I'm a genuine democratic republican,
and always was, and so was my father before me, and
uncle Joshua besides.

There's a few more things that I want to speak to you
about in this letter, but I'm afraid it will get to be too
lengthy. That are story that they got in the newspapers
about my being married in Philadelphy is all a hoax. I
aint married yet, nor I shant be till a little blue-eyed gal,
that used to run about with me, and go to school and
slide down hill in Downingville is the wife of President
Downing. And that are other story, that the President
give me a Curnel's commission jest before we started
down east, isn't exactly true. The President did offer
me one, but I thanked him, and told him if he would

excuse me, I should rather not take it, for I had always
noticed that Majors were more apt to rise in the world
than Curnels.

I wish you would take a little pains to send up to
Downingville and get uncle Joshua to call a public
meeting, and have me nominated there. I'm so well
known there, it would have a great effect in other places.
And I want to have it particularly understood, and so
stated in their resolutions, that I am the genuine democratic
republican candidate. I know you will put your
shoulder to the wheel in this business and do all you can
for me, for you was always a good friend to me, and,
jest between you and me, when I get in to be President
you may depend upon it you shall have as good an office
as you want.

But I see it's time for me to end this letter. The
President is quite comfortable, and sends his respects to
you and uncle Joshua. I remain your sincere friend.