David Crockett_ The Lion of the West - Michael Wallis [85]
Crockett rode to Murfreesboro, stabled his horse, and secured lodging for himself at an inn that catered to legislators. The Rutherford County Courthouse on the town square was where the General Assembly had gathered in the past, but, during the recess, the building had burned down, so the special session convened in the nearby First Presbyterian Church, where the customary spittoons were forbidden.3 After the opening gavel fell, one of the first orders of business for legislators was to grant premiums for a levy of taxes to build a new courthouse of brick construction.
Crockett was actively involved in the brief session, which mainly had been called for lawmakers to deal with various pressing land issues. Still, he was very much a political novice, and as such kept a low profile and learned as he went along. The adjudication and disposal of vacant and unappropriated lands remained at the forefront of political activity throughout Crockett’s career both in Tennessee and later in the U.S. Congress. In light of the ongoing economic depression sparked by the financial panic of 1819, Crockett introduced several bills on behalf of the poor and needy, whose requests he nearly always championed especially when he very much felt that he had joined their ranks.
Although from time to time Crockett owned a few slaves, one of his bills sought relief for “Mathias, a free man of color.”4 This action supports the belief that, although Crockett on a small scale supported the horrendous institution, he was capable of showing some compassion. Crockett also introduced other relief measures to help one of his attorney’s relatives and several friends and associates from his legislative district. He was dead-set against a proposal to repeal redemption laws, or manumission, a process for a party to purchase and free slaves, and he also opposed repeal of a law to provide for widows and orphans and stop fraud in the execution of last wills and testaments.
Near the close of the special session, Crockett vehemently opposed a bill that called for the restoration of certain fees to justices of the peace and constables. Under this corrupt system, duplicitous peace officers urged citizens to file civil suits, from which the officials would collect a percentage of any settlement. This practice of “fee-grabbing” was an issue that directly involved Crockett, for not only had he served as a justice of the peace, but he also was on the receiving end of many civil actions.5 When the proposed repeal legislation came up for a vote, Crockett took to the floor of the assembly and spoke against it.
“There is no evil so great in society—among the poor people—as the management and intrigue of meddling justices and dirty constables,” Crockett said, based on his own observations of such indignities. “I have seen more peace and harmony among my constituents since the repeal of the fees, than I have for several years before. I do most earnestly hope that the house will be unanimous in putting the bill to instant death.”6 The proposed bill was rejected and Crockett’s speech was quoted in the Nashville Whig, published by John P. Erwin, a lawyer who served two terms as Nashville’s mayor.7 Crockett’s financial picture was dismal, but his political future was taking shape.
On August 24, just one week after Crockett’s thirty-fifth birthday, the special session was adjourned and David immediately returned to Lawrenceburg. After he consulted with his wife and Mansil Crisp, the decision was made to retain just a small parcel of land in distant Carroll County and sell off almost all of the 800 acres that had been conveyed to him the year before by his father-in-law, Robert Patton. Crockett simply did not have the $1,600 he owed Patton for the acreage. On August 25, a deed of sale was drafted and Crockett sold the Carroll County land to John McLemore, the powerful land speculator, and one of his associates, James Vaulse, from Davidson County, for exactly the $1,600 due Patton.8 It was a difficult transaction