The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1870-05-27


Outside of Fayelle county, whe
prophet was held in high, but n
blameless, repute, being ain his own
country" the name of Clay has ever
been a sacred one in Kentucky, and to
name him has been to quote lovingly:
' Wherever freedom found vOtary,
that vOtary met in him Aehampion.
When Greece, the classic land of Greece,
the fountain of refnements, the birth
place of elOquence and liberty and poe
try; when Greece awOke from the
long Slumber of ages and beat back the
faded crescent to its native East; wnen'
MacedOn recalled to mind the feats of
her cOnquering boy, and the Spartan
struck in for the land that bred him,
then the voice of Clay rolled over the
waters of the blue Atlantic as a greet
ing from the New World to the old.
But hushed is that voice whose every
tone was music" and so on till the de
claimer wearied. Such being the es-
TEEN in which the Sage of Ashland
was held in the hearts of his coJIs
men, the people of his CommonW
have been slow to speak to stra
of the skeleton in his household, thu
in the homes of the State the sad
has beeIlA household word.
Yesterday morning our special
grams announced the end of a w
life, in stating hat Theodore, eldesC
son OF Henry Clay, had died in the
Lexington Lunatic Asylum, after a
long cOntiement. The record of his
blasted life is briefly thus:
At thirty years of age Theodore Clay
was a promising lawyer. He was the
image and hope of the statesman
whose fame was on every tongue. 1t
is true that there were whispers of wild
living, and of Indifferent morals, that
somewhat tDged the fair repute and
even darkened the future prospects of
this scion of a noble house. Still it
was hoped that these were but the re-
fult of youth, and would be cast aside
when circumstances called upon the
matured man to assert himself, and
make his talent felt in the community.
1t was at this turning-pOint in his
life that Theodore Clay began to pursue,
with an unwearied perseverance that
caused his friends great uneasiness, a
young lady in Lexington, whom he
had long loved hOpelessly. The object
of his attachment, who is at the pres
ent moment one of the brightest Orna-
ments of Kentucky society, repulsed,
firmly but kindly, every attention of
fered by the infatuated young man, af-
ter his meaning had become manifest.
1t was of no use, he would IDt be re-
fused, and followed his fair fate in the
streets by day and wandered in the
neIShbOrhOOd of her home by night, in
an annoying manner, until at last it
became evident that he ''was not all
there" to use the phrase by which a
kindly peasantry express insanity.
Subsequent violent demonstrations
tended to confirm the impression, it be-
ing even related that he went to the
house of Mr.. -- and demanded his
daughter at the pistols point, until at
last the wrethcd truth could no longer
be ignored and confinement in the aSy-
um became a stern necessity. This
was accordingly done lin 1882, we be-
lieve) his father provided for his sup
port at that time, and leaving $4,000
in his will, the income from which was
secured to Theodore for life. That life,
after thirty-eight years of imprisOn-
ment in what in the earlier days of his
confinement he was won't to call " a
good boarding-hOuse, but having some
of the biggest fools he ever saw as
bOarders," has just closed. For nearly
thirty years he was one of the most no.
ted of the inmates, not only his proud
descent, but his graceful manners and
object of interest to ali visitors. He
labored under the hallucination that he
was George Washington, and was
| fond of assuming the traditional atti-
| tudes of the father of his country. At
| the occasional balls given to the in-
mates (averaging some five hundred in
number) he was always exquisitely
dressed, in the style of his day, and
was the beau par erceIJeBce. During
| all these long years, despite his general
| gentleness and cheerfulness of manner.
he was restless and discontented, and
| required close watching, it never, in
| fact, having been considered prudent
| to allow him to go out into the grounds
without attendants. About the wear
| 1850 his condition began to grow worse,
and he soon after became demented,
continuing in hopeless idiocy until a
| few days since, when death, greater
healer than time, placed him again up
on equality with the peers of his ear
| ly manhood, who had gone before him
to the God that created him and did
with him according to his inscrutable
VIII. And so ends as sad story at the
truth Of history ever commanded to be
written.
! Two sons of Henry Clay yet survive
/ him, Il. III. Clay, eX-AIinister to Hon
duras, now residing on his place,
" Mansfield" near Lexington, and
! john NJ. Clay, the raiser of {" Kentuc-
KY" and one of the greatest turfmen
living.