The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1875-02-05
THE LAST DAYS OF TOM MAR
SHALL.
The Unhappy End Of Life Of Bril-
liant Opportunities.

lecture upon the life of the brilliant
gifted, and luckless Kentucky orator.
From full report of it in the Courier
Journal We copy the following passages
describing the last, melancholy. misera-
bic days of Marshall's life:
81 have said he had no home. That
was true; because he had in him none
of the home qualities. He could not or
would not make n home. Before the
death of DR.. Lewis Marshall he gave to
his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Tom Marshall,
duriHg her life, one fifth Of the old Buck
Pond farm, consisting of more than one
hundred acres, situated about four miles
from the town of Versailles. Upon this
tract small but comfortable cottage
was erected and paid for by the libsrality
of the community. Here Mrs. Marshall
resided, and this place he called his
his home. But he came into town, and
remained days and even weeks before
returning. How he lived, and what
manner of life he led, it is indeed diff
cult to describe.
ain August, 1868, two years before
his death, Mr.. Marshall, in a commune
cation to one of the Louisville papers,
had occasion to speak of himself, using
the third person, when he employed the
/ following language: "He seemed to
have lost caste in Versailles with all
1 political parties, and to be utterly with
out weight, influence or social position
in Woodford. A few of his old friends
/ still frequent his company, and court his
conversation in his sober intervals
This was a sad picture-6rawn by his
own pen-and yet it hardly did justice
to the facts. The sober intervals be-
came less frequent. He grew sad for
want of company, for want of mental
employment, for want of intellectual
association. He would stop the school
boys on the street and read and explain
to them their Latin and Greek exercises.
He would gather around him a group
of men or boys-any one for an audience
and read to them from ancient or mod
| ern history, but more frequently from
his own writings, which had been pub
lished in 1858 by Mr.. w. L. Barre
He would pause in these street readings,
and explain, criticise, condemn or ap-
prove the subject of the writer. He
was exceedingly fond of reading from
his own essays or articles published be-
tween 1889 and 1850, and of pointing
out how subsequent events had demon
strated his wisdom or confirmed his
views. now own a copy of his writings,
which have often lent him, and which
he pencil marked through and through.
During the last four or five years of his
life, he was entirely without means, and
hazardous charity supplied his wants.
He slept many nights in chair in the
common sitting-room of cheap country
tavern; in warm weather he slept on a
wooden bench in the court house porti-
co; and, during the cooler, nights of the
early fall, in the hay loft of a public liv-
cry stable. He felt his situation more
keenly than one might suppose, and
would often speak of it with bitter sa-
tire and with far more wit than rever-
ence piety. He was wont to compare
himself with the Savior of mankind, say
ing that he, like Christ, had not where
to lay his head. His food was obtained
in much the same manner as his other
necessities were supplied. He accepted
the charity of a meal wherever it was
offered to him. He called one day at
my home to borrow the book to which
| have before referred. He came just
at the dinner hour, and when happen
ed to be alone. I invited him to join
me. He declined, saying that several
gentlemen were on the street waiting for
him to read to them an article from the
book, but be added: "Save my dinner
for ME andlI will return and get it." He
did return in an hour or two, and ate with
an appetite difficult to satisfy. He ex
planned and excused his hearty meal by
saying it was his first food for twenty
four hours, and he had no expectation
of another meal for an equal length of
time. But his Unsuitable thirst for drink
survived all this. It was sad, yes it |
was pitiful TO follow him into the cheap, |
rough bar room and hear him prostitute
his genius and great gifts to produce
coarse and vulgar wit to amuse lot of
thoughtless boys or ignorant men, thus
bribe them in to furnishing him liquor.
Passing the street one night / heard |
peal after peal of laughter coming from
saloon. Prompted by curiosity, /
opened the door and went in, there was
Captain Marshall quite drunk, surround
ed by a rude and boisterous crowd, his
face itself blackened and smeared with |
ink and SCOT. He leered at the crowd |
for a moment from beneath his slOuch- |
ing hat, and then drew himself up ma
jestically, raised his arm and shoulder |
in most expressive gesture, and said,
in bitter and contemptuous tones. you |
remind me OF a lot of cowardly bantam |
chickens picking upon the head Of an
eagle with his wings broken This was
greeted with a shout of laughter, and |
the whole crowd proceeded to drink. |
/ more than once met him late at nigth,
even after the barrooms were closed,
wandering alonsaupon the streets, with
his hat off, striking his forehead with
his open hand, looking up at the moon
and calling himself a lunatic, a star
gazer, and delivering an address to an
imaginary audience in the heavens. |
But let us pity rather than censure him.
"At many periods of his life he made
determined and continued efforts to con-
quer his thirst for liquor. 1asHe said that
his contest was not one of days or weeks,
but Of months and years; that when the
desire came on his sufferings were equal
led only by the torments of the lost. He
drank the hottest teas and such substi-
tutes as were suggested to him. re-
member once to have seen him swollows