except the mooted question of the broken sword. Some authors say he broke
it, some say he threw it away, and some others, who ought to know, say
nothing about it. Perhaps it would be a fair historical compromise to
say, if he did not break it, he did not do anything else with it.

By the way, Mr. Speaker, did you know I am a military hero? Yes, sir; in
the days of the Black Hawk war I fought, bled, and came away. Speaking of
General Cass's career reminds me of my own. I was not at Stiliman's
defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass was to Hull's surrender; and,
like him, I saw the place very soon afterward. It is quite certain I did
not break my sword, for I had none to break; but I bent a musket pretty
badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword, the idea is he broke it
in desperation; I bent the musket by accident. If General Cass went in
advance of me in picking huckleberries, I guess I surpassed him in
charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live, fighting Indians, it
was more than I did; but I had a good many bloody struggles with the
mosquitoes, and although I never fainted from the loss of blood, I can
truly say I was often very hungry. Mr. Speaker, if I should ever conclude
to doff whatever our Democratic friends may suppose there is of
black-cockade federalism about me, and therefore they shall take me up as
their candidate for the Presidency, I protest they shall not make fun of
me, as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a
military hero.

While I have General Cass in hand, I wish to say a word about his
political principles. As a specimen, I take the record of his progress in
the Wilmot Proviso. In the Washington Union of March 2, 1847, there is a
report of a speech of General Cass, made the day before in the Senate, on
the Wilmot Proviso, during the delivery of which Mr. Miller of New Jersey
is reported to have interrupted him as follows, to wit: