The Governor was made a member of the committee to erect the monument. Our first real difficulty was upon the inscription. It was claimed that Davis had said as he took his place at the head of the line "I haven't a man who is afraid to go." This indicated that cowardice had been manifested in some quarter. Woodbury insisted that this expression should be included in the inscription. I was opposed to its use on account of the implication it contained, and also for the reason that it was no easy matter to incorporate it in a sentence that would be tolerable upon granite. Mr. Woodbury wrote two inscriptions. General Cushing tried his hand. I prepared one or two. Finally Woodbury triumphed, and the monument bears the words attributed to Davis. I was invited to deliver the address at the dedication, October 29, 1851, and the Rev. John Pierpont was invited to deliver the poem. The exercises were in a large tent capable of seating a thousand persons at dinner. The day was dull but the attendance was large. The soldiers were on duty at an early hour, and they were ready for dinner when they entered the tent at about eleven o'clock. The tables were spread and the soldiers and guests took their seats at the tables, but under an injunction that the repast would not begin until the address and poem had been delivered. Fortunately the address came first. The delivery occupied an hour or more. Mr. Pierpont commenced reading his poem, but before he had made any considerable progress, a slight clicking of knives was heard from the extreme portion of the tent. Mr. Pierpont was an excitable man. He had a reputation as a preacher, lecturer and poet. It was apparent from his flushed face that his pride was wounded. I expected that Mr. Woodbury, who was president of the day, would rise and ask the guests to abstain from eating until Mr. Pierpont had finished reading his poem. The parson gave no sign, however. The disturbance increased, and finally, Mr. Pierpont, with face flushed to purple, threw down his manuscript under the box from which he was reading, and sat down. I then expected that the president would demand order. On the contrary, he stuck his hands straight into the air, and said: "Let us ask a blessing." This he did with singular brevity, and sitting down he helped himself from a plate of chicken that stood before him, and at the same time turning to Mr. Pierpont he said: "The listened very well, 'till you got to Greece. They didn't care anything about Greece."