- Ratcliff William
Mr
Ratcliff called on me this morning, and read to me the
answer he had received from the Secretary
of State, to his application as the agent and in behalf of
the Republic of the Isthmus— It is procrastinative, and argues soundly
the necessity of delay before recognizing as an Independent State, a
part of an extensive country with which we are in friendly relations.
Mr Ratcliff seemed earnestly inclined to
press for the interposition of our government to mediate for the final
separation of the State of the Isthmus from New Grenada, but I dissuaded
him from that; and advised him to wait patiently for the result of the
informal mission to the Isthmus contemplated by Mr Tyler— At
the house my Resolution calling for A.
Stevenson’s correspondence with Commodore Hull, inadvertently overlooked yesterday, was
taken up, and at my motion adopted without a division— Gilmer consumed nearly two hours in
his long meditated and bitterly rancorous speech against me—when he
closed, Cushing started up, but
the Speaker said I was entitled to
the floor in my own defence. I spoke accordingly about an hour and a
half; and brought to light the conspiracy among the Southern Members of
the Committee of foreign Affairs to displace me as Chairman, and to
elect Cushing in my stead— I produced the anonymous Letter from Jackson
N.C. 20 Jany 1842. threatening me with
assassination; and the engraved portrait of me, with the mark of a rifle
ball on the forehead, with the motto to stop the music of John Quincy
Adams 6th. President of the United
States
These were Gilmer’s own words excepting the word fiddler which his echo changed to babbler— I produced also, and read the minutes of the proceedings in the Committee of foreign Affairs— I reviewed my relations with the Virginian Presidents of the United States heretofore Washington, Jefferson, Madison, Monroe, and contrasted them with this base conspiracy of three Virginians banded here, together with numerous accomplices in and out of the house for my destruction. Near four O’Clock, I closed for the day, with an apt quotation from Moore’s Love’s of the Angels, and came home very much exhausted.