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WRITINGS OF SAM HOUSTON, 1855
Many difficulties existed and though Texas had hastily gone into the Union, many questions were undecided. War ensued. Texas found that her boundary was not adjusted, and no recla- mation had been made for injuries sustained by her in her rela- tions with the United States. AH our delegations united for and cooperated in the achievement of what we believed to be the best interests of Texas, and of the United States, for we were a part of it. The question of the Oregon Bill came up. It involved the Compromise of 1820 which had originated under the administra- tion of a Democratic President, Mr. Monroe. It was approved by General Jackson, and sanctioned by almost every Legislature in the Union. There was not a dissenting voice from it. I well recollect that one distinguished gentleman of opposite politics to myself, took an active part in securing the passage of that Compromise. He received peans of praise throughout the broad expanse of the American Union. He was the great Pacificator of this nation, the peacemaker of America-Henry Clay. I well remember the emotions which controlled the American bosom, and the gratitude which arose from patriotic hearts. I was myself too young to preside in the councils of the Nation, but not too young to have bled in defence of the frontier of my country five years before, at the battle of the Horse Shoe. The acts of Henry Clay on the Missouri Compromise entitle him to the eternal gratitude of every freeman who loves the Union. When that Compromise was approved, it was a democratic meas- ure, not of the modern bombshell democracy, but it was under the regime of the true Jeffersonian democracy, acquiesced in by Jackson, Polk, and transmitted to us unimpaired though badly dabbled in the dust, at the moment, by Mr. Pierce. Well, I voted for that Compromise, in the organization of Oregon, in con- formity, as I thought, with your opinions. From that day, every little demagogue has been letting loose at me with his darts and squibs. They did not wound me; for early in life, even when I was a little urchin boy, I had been troubled and amazed by the yelping of juveniles of the canine species. They have not quit barking at me yet. I must tell an anecdote, illustrative of their course of action towards me. Uncle Josh, who resided in a good Northern State, (the people of the North use scriptural names more than we Southerners do,) had a very troublesome sheep, which was in the habit of butting almost everything about the yard. Uncle Josh could, from personal experience, bear ample testimony to
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