The Columbia herald. [volume] (Columbia, Tenn.) 1850-1873, 1870-05-27
A SAD STORY.


Outside of Fayelle county, where the
prophet was, held i'm high, but not in
blameless, repute, being "irl his own
country. " the name of Clay has ever
been a sacred one in Kentucky, and to
name hinl has been to quote lovingly
Wherever ffeedom found q votary,
that yotary met In him champion
When Greece, the classicla land of Greece,
the fountain of refinements, the birth
place of eloquence and liberty and poe
try; when Greece aw0ke from the
long slumber of ages and beat back the
.<aded cresent to its native East; when
Maceoon raealled 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 tha
waters of the blue Atlantic as q 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 country
men, the people of his Commonwealth
have been slow to speak to strangers
of the skeleton in his household, though
in the homes of the State the sad story
has been a household word.
Yesterday morning our special tele-
grams announced the end of weary
life, in stating that Theodore, eldest
son of Henry Clay, had died in the
Lexington .Lunatic Asylum, after a
long confiement. The record of his
blasted life is briefly thus: .. 9s-.4
> 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 tinged 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-
fllt of youth, and would be east aside
when circumstances called upon the
matured man to assert himself, and
make his talent felt i'm the community.
"a 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.
It was of no use, he would not be re-
fused, and followed his fair fate in the
streets by day and wandered in the
neighborhood of her home by night, IN
an annoying manner. until at last it
became evident that he twas not all
there" to use the phrase by which a
kindly peasantry express insanity.
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 wrethed truth could no longer
be ignored and confinement in the asy-
um became stern necessity. This
was accordingly done lin 1S332, 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
he was won't to call "a
good boarding-house, but having some
of the biggest fools he ever saw as
boartlers," 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
flow of conversation rendering him an
object of interest to all visitors. He
labored under the hallucinatien 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
he was always eXqui,itely
in the style of his day, and
was the beau par cfcettcnce. During
all these long years, despite his general
gentleness and cheerfulness of manner,
he was restless and discontented, and
required close watching, it never, i'm
fact, having been considered prudent
to allow him to go out into the grounds
without attendants. About the year
1860 his condition began to grow worse,
and he soon after became demented,
i'm hopeless idiOcy until a
few days since, when death, greater
healer than time, placed him again up
Dn equality with the peers of his ear
|y manhood, who had gone before him
10 the God that created him and did
with him according to his inscrutable
will. And so ends as sad story at the
ruth of history ever commanded to be
written.
Two sons of Henry Clay yet survive
him, Z. H. Clay, ex-Minister to Hon-
luras, now residing on his place,
Mansfield," near Lexington, and
John NJ. Clay, the raiser of "Kentuc-
KY" and one of the greatest turfmen