Arkansas State Gazette

Col. Baker's Speech in Congress.

We invite attention to the extract below, which we have made of this gentleman's speech containing, as it does, all that is truly interesting to the public. It was delivered in the House on the 28th ult., and we cannot but reflect, how little indeed those Democratic members must have felt, who had just indulged in aspersions of the Whigs, (having styled them "Federalists," "enemies to their country, &c.") as they contemplated the gallant Whig member from Illinois, fresh from the Camp, beseeching the Representatives of the people to forego their party bickerings, and to unite in providing the ways and means, in men and money, for a vigorous prosecution of the War. The patriot, not the partisan, may be seen throughout the entire speech, and his urgent appeals in behalf of our half-clad volunteers, are worth all the arguments, written or spoken, which have been made for and against the justice of the contest. His greatest desire was to procure the passing of a law, to provide for actually clothing the volunteers, instead of giving them commutation money, for their clothing. How much better this would be, the friends of the volunteers from Arkansas, will readily remember. Two good uniform suits, made of the best materials, would have been to each soldier, of far greater value than the money he received as a substitute.

It is to be hoped that the eloquent appeal of Col. Baker will have the effect to awaken Congress to the necessity of vigorous action. It is by such a course, only, that the glory of our arms can be sustained, and, at the same time, a speedy restoration of peace be secured.

... [clergy, the landholders, the men of the old revolution Even the Mexican women are kindling into zeal, and burn with a desire to repel the lawless invaders of their territory. Sir, there is another thing to be considered. Wherever the advance is to be, it is to be made this winter; and for reasons which must be obvious to every member of this House. Less than six months ago you sent into the field some twenty-six regiments, filled with high hope, ready to peril wealth and reputation, and life, not in a defensive, but in an invasive war, not for their own homes and their own hearths, but for the honor of the American name, and the glory of the American arms. Alas, how many of those who never saw a battle—who never cast a stern glance upon any foeman in the field—how many of these are sleeping their last sleep on the banks of the Rio Grande—their bosoms heaved with high hope—light was their measured footsteps when they went to seek the foe. But—

Not from the red wound poured their life.
Where cowering foemen yield;
Th' archangel's shade was slowly cast
Upon each pallid brow
But, calm and fearless to the last
They sleep securely now!"

There are the bones of nearly two thousand men with the best blood of this country, now resting on the banks of the Rio Grande, who never saw an enemy—never had an opportunity to strike that blow which they desired for their country and their race. For this I am inclined, at this moment at least, to blame nobody. It is almost impossible to appreciate properly the difficulties of any campaign; at least it is almost impossible for those who sit at ease in their own homes to do so; but most of all is it impossible to appreciate the difficulties of a campaign in an unknown country with a sickly climate, and in an unprepared condition The regiment with which I have been associated went to the field with eight hundred and thirty men, young hearty, gallant, adventurous young men. Five hundred of them, at least, were young men who either lived in their own homes, acquired by their own labor, or resided in the domestic circle of their fathers in the same condition of life. Seven hundred of them could have earned at home more than three times as much as the government could promise them. Sir, of these eight hundred, nearly one hundred sleep upon the banks of that doleful river; whilst more than two hundred have returned shadows and skeletons, to find, if Providence so wills it, in the embraces of their friends, and the kindness of the domestic circle, that renovation which shattered frames and broken spirits so much require. What is true of that regiment is true of others. It is true of the other Illinois regiment—it is true of the Tennessee regiment—it is true of the Kentucky regiment—it is true of the Alabama regiment—it is true of the Indiana regiment. Sir, it is true of every regiment that has spread its tents on the banks of the Rio Grande. They fell victims to the diseases incident to the climate, the waters, the change of food, and a hundred other things which oppress and depress the brave men who have sought glory in that field. I mention these things not by way of reproach—not by way of complaint. Sir, I should be unworthy to be the representative of the brave men who requested me for once to raise my voice here, if I would condescend to complain. What they have done they have done for love of country, for glory—for such immortality as Worth, Davis, Campbell, McClung, and a hundred others have acquired. They have done it that they might be honored whilst they lived, lamented when they died, and remembered after. But, as a representative of the people, I may be permitted to say—and I speak not now as a volunteer officer—that it is cold blooded cruelty, if means can prevent it, to expose your gallant soldiers to such perils as those which I have described, when immediate and united action could evade them. I am not now called upon to discuss the question how the money can be supplied. If the question were asked, on all sides of this Hall would be heard the exclamation, "The United States can raise all the men and all the money that are needed." I understand that Pennsylvania is ready with more men. Illinois has already sent three thousand young men; but she can send three thousand more; and if any gentleman hesitates, I ask, what is to be gained by delay? Is the war to end at all? Is there ever to be a peace? How is peace to be made? Is it to be made by advancing, or by receding? Are we to go forward, or are we to retire? In God's name, if we are to retire, let us retire now. But if we are to conquer peace, why not next April, rather than next September? Will it require more money to send out thirty thousand men now than to send out twice fifteen thousand men to wither beneath that burning sun? I ask, then, with all the earnestness of my nature, whatever else you do—upon whatever other subject you may differ—whether you blame the whigs for not supporting the war, or the democrats for rushing into war unnecessarily and unseasonably—however you may differ on these points, I ask you, in the name of those who have suffered—those who are willing to fight—those now fighting your battles in a foreign land—in their name I ask you to send them aid—comfort—subsistence—support—munitions of war—supplies. Let them be enabled to make the advance, and to keep it, till they spread your banner on the citadel of Mexico. And if I were to venture a prediction at all, I would say that the war is to be ended gloriously to the American arm—and to the American name by the end of April next, or it is to be interminable. For myself I confess that I am not one of those who suppose that a nation is very easily conquered. I think it was Madame de Stael, who said, (the distinguished gentleman from South Carolina, [Mr. Rhett] who knows every thing on such subjects, can set me right if I am mistaken :) I think it was she who said, "a nation true to itself never was conquered." Mexico claims a population of eight millions, scattered over a country more difficult to advance in, and more easily defended than any country I know of in the world. They have a climate that fights for them. Even the very scantiness of the products of the soil is in their favor. A Mexican soldier gets fat upon that on which an American soldier would starve. Their horses want no food. Every bushel of oats that our horses consume must be sent at least, two thousand miles. I beg gentlemen not to understand me literally when I say that Mexican horses do not need any food. [A laugh.] If necessary I will make a personal explanation upon that subject. [Laughter.] But they are so used to the scanty foraging of that country, that they can live upon a "range" as we call it in the western country—where American horses would die. Mr. Chairman, the Mexican national feeling is kindling up. I confess, sir, I am very doubtful as to the result, if that country be defended as it ought to be, and as it may be defended, unless that now an adequate force and full supplies, be sent into the field. But I am sure of one thing, that the sentiment of the American people, and the American army, is for short, sudden, brilliant war—for advance—constant, triumphant, unceasing advance. I speak for the regiment with which I am associated—I speak for the whole volunteer army, when I say that the brave men—who have perilled strength, and health, and life itself, in the valley of the Rio Grande without having seen an enemy, desire war. They pant for battle, and they feel it to be but just that you should so reinforce them that they shall be able wisely and prudently to resume the advance before their twelve months shall expire. They desire to strike at least one hard blow before they return to their homes. Permit me to observe, Mr. Chairman, independent entirely of this question of raising troops at home, your regular volunteer army not only desire, but deserve—ah! far more deserve than desire: but both desire and deserve more support, aid, and comfort than they have yet received at your hands. I believe that it is true that at the other end of the Capitol a proposition has been made to give the army three months extra pay in advance. Sir, I hope it will be done. If I had any choice upon that subject, I should certainly act on the conviction that it would be far more preferable to them—far more useful to them—nay, far more necessary to receive that now than prospectively in any shape whatever. Many of the volunteer regiments have not been paid in six months. It was nearly six months before the Illinois regiments were paid. When they were paid, a private received at the rate of seven dollars per month, and yet was compelled often to purchase such articles as could be procured only at the most exorbitant prices. I have seen the gallant young man, who had come forth from his own home in the full strength of vigorous manhood, now worn and wasted by disease, either by borrowing or some other means, purchasing, at fifty cents a pound, a little morsel of cheese with which to moisten his lips, having no other sustenance provided for him but the hard bread afforded by the army rations, which he had hardly strength to masticate. I have seen them pay twenty-five cents per pound for bacon, twenty cents for sugar, and ten cents for what was called baker's bread—expenditures which the state of their health not only justified, but required. I am not to be told, sir, upon this floor, that the soldier is to be confined to his rations. In an emergency a volunteer soldier is perfectly willing to be so confined, and not one of them will be found to grumble. But I say for them, If you will increase their pay, if you will tell them that they have behaved gallantly, and at once give them three months' pay for what they have done, and as a pledge of future reward, they will think of you with gratitude, and you will have only to care a cent whether the war cost thirty millions or a hundred millions, while it lasts I would give them money, justified by one principle; and it is this—

frequent doubts were expressed, not as to the valor of volunteers, but great doubts as to their capacity to acquire a high state of discipline. These doubts have been dissipated—they have disappeared forever. The volunteer regiments that stormed Monterey can do anything. The volunteer regiments that have endured the perils of the Rio Grande can suffer anything. And is it not in doing and suffering, in acting and enduring, that everything subsists which constitutes the soldier? Whether the war costs thirty millions, or a hundred millions, we have proved to ourselves and to the whole world that we have in time of need thirty thousand—yes, six hundred thousand—yes, a million and a half of men capable of making the best infantry, the best artillery, the best cavalry, the best everything in the world. The solution of this problem is, in my estimation, a sufficient compensation for all the money that this war may cost. I beseech you, then—I implore you as one who has seen a little and but a little of this war—nothing, alas! of battle—nothing of conflict, only a little of trial and privation—I implore you as a representative of the people, as a constituent part of the government of this great country—I implore you, I beg you, sir your armies—succor them—pass the advance; do not stop to deliberate on minor and comparatively unimportant matters. Not upon any party do I press these remarks. Not upon the whigs—I know them too well to believe all that is said of their want of patriotism. Sir, the whigs of this country have proved their patriotism every time and on every occasion. It seems to me monstrous that any diversity of opinion as to whether Clay or Polk is the better man—that any contest about bank or no bank—distribution or no distribution—"fifty-nine of"—[laughter]

"Oh! breathe not its name, let it sleep in the shade!"

I think it monstrous that any question of the kind should affect the heart of any American citizen when such a crisis as this. In the army we are all whigs and all democrats. Why, sir, I understand that Mr. Webster threw doubts on the justice of this war: his son has already mustered a company for the field, and I don't believe the younger Webster to be any better patriot than the elder. I understand that Mr. Calhoun did not vote on one important question connected with the war; his gallant son, at the head of the New York regiment, is panting for the field. From my own State, two whigs and two democrats command the regiments which Illinois has already sent; and in the storming of Monterey, the contest between whigs and democrats was not who should stay away, but who should be foremost in the fight. I understand, sir, that Mr. Crittenden—than whom no more gallant or valiant soldier is in the field—has sent two sons, the one in command of a company, and the other seeking glory on his own hook, as his father found it in the war of twelve. How, sir, can it be possible that we, who have been born upon the broad bosom of this country, can be either wiser than lovers of that country? On one side I am sure there can be no honest difference of opinion—about the causes of this war. Many may believe that our relations with Mexico were not properly managed before the war began. Many may doubt whether it was advisable to march to the brink of the Rio Grande and point our cannon towards the town of Matamoros. Many, from excess of chivalry, may believe that a nation so powerful as ours should not bully such a republic as Mexico. But should doubts and such opinions interfere with the course of patriotism when the war commences? Many in the army entertain similar opinions. It was more than could be expected of human nature to hope for perfect agreement on every subject. The very difference of opinion relative to the conduct of whigs and democrats in this, with respect to abolition, is an illustration of this fact. But I beg that, on this subject of the war, all crimination and recrimination be avoided. If persisted in, we can never give the army adequate aid, comfort, support. No, no. Let the word now be, as that great orator said of eloquence, action! action! now! I do not think it worth while, Mr. Chairman, to reply to those insinuations that the whigs must be supposed to be hostile to the interests of the country, because they do not believe the causes of the war a sufficient justification. On the contrary, I believe that he who feared that the war was not just, and the God of battles might not smile upon their arms, but who yet stood up for his country right or wrong, is entitled to more credit than he who believed the country to be altogether in the right. With the one "ought" be doubted; with the other none could doubt the patriotism. I understand the great champion of Troy, Hector himself, doubted much whether the war was just—gave advice against it—had no sympathy with Paris, and probably less with Helen; but when the war came—when the Grecian forces were marshalled in the field, Hector's "beaming helmet" was seen glittering in the thickest of the fight. In the American army there were men who, like Hector, doubted the causes of the war, but with the best they were ready to moisten with their blood the soil of that foreign land, or their own soil here, in defence of their country and in the prosecution of every measure desired by the Executive on the part of the people—at all times, and everywhere. I am sure, from what I know of the people less, and worse than useless, to attempt upon this floor to charge one party or the other with any want of patriotism. I am proud to say that in the field whigs have deported themselves as well as any men, and so it will be until the end. Whether the war end in April or not, until again and again regiments have been thrice decimated—whether in battle or in the camp—whether in action or in suffering—whether in the interior of Mexico, or lingering on the banks of the pestilential river, they will do their duty and their whole duty to their country while they live.