In 1818 General Jackson invaded Florida, put to death two Indian chiefs in cold blood, and executed two British subjects, Arbuthnot and Armbrister.[3] During the twenty-seven days’ debate upon these proceedings, in 1819, the Speaker sided with those who disapproved them, and he delivered a set speech against Jackson.  This speech, though it did full justice to General Jackson’s motives, and contained a fine eulogium upon his previous services, gave the General deadly offence.  Such was Jackson’s self-love that he could not believe in the honesty of any opposition to him, but invariably attributed such opposition to low personal motives.  Now it was a fact well known to Jackson, that Henry Clay had expected the appointment of Secretary of State under Mr. Monroe; and it was part of the gossip of the time that Mr. Monroe’s preference of Mr. Adams was the reason of Clay’s occasional opposition to measures favored by the administration.  We do not believe this, because the measures which Mr. Clay opposed were such as he must have disapproved, and which well-informed posterity will forever disapprove.  After much debate in the Cabinet, Mr. Monroe, who was peculiarly bound to Jackson, and who had reasons of his own for not offending him, determined to sustain him in toto, both at home and in the courts of Spain and England.  Hence, in condemning General Jackson, Mr. Clay was again in opposition to the administration; and the General of course concluded, that the Speaker designed, in ruining him, merely to further his own political schemes.  How he boiled with fury against Mr. Clay, his published letters amusingly attest.  “The hypocrisy and baseness of Clay,” wrote the General, “in pretending friendship to me, and endeavoring to crush the Executive through me, makes me despise the villain.”

Jackson, as we all know, was triumphantly sustained by the House.  In fact, Mr. Clay’s speech was totally unworthy of the occasion.  Instead of argument and fact, he gave the House and the galleries beautiful declamation.  The evidence was before him; he had it in his hands; but, instead of getting up his case with patient assiduity, and exhibiting the damning proofs of Jackson’s misconduct, he merely glanced over the mass of papers, fell into some enormous blunders, passed over some most material points, and then endeavored to supply all deficiencies by an imposing eloquence.  He even acknowledges that he had not examined the testimony.  “It is possible,” said he, “that a critical examination of the evidence would show” that Arbuthnot was an innocent trader.  We have had occasion to examine that evidence since, and we can testify that this conjecture was correct.  But why was it a conjecture?  Why did Mr. Clay neglect to convert the conjecture into certainty?  It fell to him, as representing the civilization and humanity of the United States, to vindicate the memory of an honorable old man, who had done all that was possible to prevent the war, and who had been ruthlessly murdered by men wearing the uniform of American soldiers.  It fell to him to bar the further advancement of a man most unfit for civil rule.  To this duty he was imperatively called, but he only half did it, and thus exasperated the tiger without disabling him.