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TRUE STORIES 
 
 OF OUR 
 
 Famous Men and Women 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 THE LIVES OF ALMOST FIFTY OF OUR NATION'S 
 HEROES AND HEROINES 
 
 WASHINGTON, 
 FULTON, EDISON, FRANCES WILI.ARD, JACKSON, 
 GIRARD, LEE, MEADE, ROOSEVELT, 
 MOLLY PITCHER, PERRY, FARRAGUT, HOBSON, 
 PUTNAM, JACK DAVIS, HENRY, GREENE, 
 GRANT, PENN, LINCOLN, LONGFELLOW, 
 LAWTON, CLAY, DEWEY, BETSY ROSS- 
 FRANKLIN, GOODYEAR DECATUR, BOONE, 
 
 AND OTHERS 
 
 A Book of Entatainment and Instruction for the Young 
 
 HELPING THEM TO FORM HIGHER IDEAS AND SHOWING THEM 
 
 THAT BY INDUSTRY AND PERSEVERANCE THEY MAY 
 
 OVERCOME GREAT OBSTACLES AND RISE 
 
 TO SUCCESS AND FAME 
 
 By MILTON HADLEY 
 
 THE WELL-KNOWN WRITER FOR YOUNG PEOPLE 
 
 Beautifully Embellished with Four Magnificent Lithographs 
 
 in G)lors, Thirty-two Half Tones and a large 
 
 number of other Engravings 
 
 NATIONAL PUBLISHING COMPANY, 
 289 TO 243 Sol;th Amkkican Strkkt, 
 
 PuiLADKLrHfA, I'A. 
 
ivtol 
 
 [.ibr«ry of Conffi 
 
 Iwo Copies Received 
 .JAN 22 1901 
 
 CopyngM«i<ry 
 
 ^^- f O, t^ CO 
 
 S£CONOCOPY 
 
 t-WcljeU-' »CCt)RDlM6 -O ACT 0=; CONGPEf.!-. IN THE YEAR , POtl, 6/ 
 
 CHARLES A. DOE 
 THi OFFICE OF THE LItBARIAN OF COStfiES*, AT WAfcMtNfcTON, t. 0- 
 
c*- 
 
 •JJ^O 
 
 kEN and women who have become famous on account of their 
 noble virtues and grand achievements are bright examples to 
 the young. The patriotism of Washington, Franklin and 
 other heroes of the Revolution will never cease to inspire Americans. 
 They stand out in history as patterns worthy the imitation of all genera- 
 tions of their countrymen. 
 
 It is the high aim of this volume to portray the noble traits and the 
 noble deeds of the men and women of our country whose names have 
 become household words. It is not merely a grand work for boys and 
 girls, but for all classes of readers. The great Generals, Orators, States- 
 men, Explorers, Inventors and Pioneers of our country are depicted in a 
 masterly manner. The reader is delighted with the glowing tales of 
 patriotism and the superb valor and daring exploits of heroes like 
 Washington, Putnam, Lee, Grant, " Stonewall " Jackson, Dewey, Roose- 
 velt, Lawton and many others. 
 
 Here, too, are thrilling accounts of Polar Voyages, Explorations be- 
 yond the Mississippi ; brave deeds of our Army and Navy ; brilliant 
 examples of poor boys and girls who have risen to fame, showing how 
 the young, by labor and perseverance, can achieve success. There are 
 examples of men who have amassed fortunes, like Girard by his ships 
 and real estate investments ; Elias Howe by his invention of the sewing 
 machine ; Edison by his discoveries in electricity ; James Gordon Bennett 
 by founding a great newspaper. 
 
 The men and women who have achieved distinction in all the various 
 i walks of life are here made illustrious, their names being written on the 
 f immortal scroll of history. 
 
 Not the least thrilling of the great deeds of Americans are the ex- 
 plorations made in the Polar Region by Dr. Kane, Lieutenant Lockwood, 
 Lieutenant Peary and others who have braved the snows and frosts of 
 »orthern winters in a fruitless search for the Pole, The hardships and 
 
 vU 
 
vm 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 sufferings of these and of tlie early pioneers wlio pushed on into tlie 
 wilderness making way for the new Nation, all have a thrilling fascina- 
 tion for the young. Valuable instruction is also conveyed by this narra- 
 tive and much of interest is to be learned. 
 
 A work abounding in incidents showing what can be accomplished 
 by that spirit of enterprise which characterizes the American people. At 
 the same time much is here written that will stir the patriotism of all 
 who read this volume. Descriptions are given of the old Independence 
 Hall, Carpenter's Hall, the home of " Old Glory,'' the great speeches and 
 thrilling scenes in which such orators as Patrick Henry, Webster, Clay, 
 Lincoln and many others were participants. These all have their capti- 
 vating power and are not without their effect when placed before the 
 youth of the present day. 
 
PAGE 
 
 George Washington, the Father of His Country 17 
 
 Robert Fulton and His Steamboat 30 
 
 Stephen Girard and His College for Poor Boys 35 
 
 Molly Pitcher and Her Brave Deed 45 
 
 General Israel Putnam and His Famous Exploits 48 
 
 How Sammy Helped General Putnam 53 
 
 General Grant, the Hero of the Civil War 58 
 
 General Lawton, the Hero of the Philippines 65 
 
 Daniel Boone and Life on the Frontier 69 
 
 Benjamin Franklin, the Noble Patriot 75 
 
 John Paul Jones, the Famous Naval Hero 82 
 
 Cyrus Field and the Atlantic Cable 89 
 
 Betsy Ross and Our American Flag 93 
 
 Thomas A. Edison, the Celebrated Inventor 97 
 
 Robert E. Lee, the Great Confederate Commander 101 
 
 Commodore Perry and His Victory on Lake Erie 105 
 
 The Trick Jack Davis Played on a British Officer 110 
 
 Robert Morris, the Great Financier II4 
 
 William Penn, Founder of Pennsylvania II7 
 
 Henry Clay, the Celebrated Orator I23 
 
 Charles Goodyear, the Renowned Inventor 127 
 
 Frances Willard and Her Noble Work 131 
 
 Elisha Kent Kane, the Arctic Explorer I34 
 
 James Gordon Bennett and His Famous Newspaper 141 
 
 ix 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGK 
 
 General George G. Meade, the Hero oe Ge'ttysburg 145 
 
 Independence Hall and the Old Liberty Bell 148 
 
 Admiral Farragut, the Great Naval Commander 153 
 
 Patrick Henry, the Orator of the Revolution 158 
 
 Abraham Lincoln, the Preserver of the Union 162 
 
 Admiral Dewey, the Hero of Manila 165 
 
 Commodore Decatur and His Gallant Exploits 168 
 
 Captain John Smith and Pocahontas 172 
 
 "Stonewall" Jackson, the Brilliant Confederate General . . . 178 
 General Phil Sheridan, the Dashing Cavalry Commander .... 182 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, the Famous Rough Rider 188 
 
 Lieutenant Hobson and His Daring Deed 196 
 
 Nathaniel Greene, Washington's Favorite General 201 
 
 Carpenters* Hall and the Continental Congress 208 
 
 Life-Saving Men, the Heroes of the Sea 211 
 
 General John C. Fremont, the Great Path-Finder 218 
 
 Hayes and Hall, Celebrated Arctic Travellers 233 
 
 Roger Williams and the Pilgrims 244 
 
 Henry W. Longfellow, the Favorite Poet 252 
 
aEORGE WASHi:t^GTON 
 
 THE FATHER OF HIS OOUTsTTRY. 
 
 '' Y little friends, said Uncle Frank, I promised to tell 3^ou 
 some stories about tlie great men and women of our 
 country wlio have become famous. Are you ready to 
 have me begin ? 
 
 That is just what James and I have been wait- 
 ing for, said Elsie, and now that cousin Mabel has 
 come, we are all ready to listen. 
 
 It was a beautiful morning and Uncle Frank and 
 the young folks were seated on the porch, which was 
 shaded by the thick leaves and branches of a large elm tree. What 
 great American shall I tell you about first ? asked Uncle Frank. 
 
 Washington, said James. Elsie and Mabel were of the same mind, 
 and Uncle Frank lean^.l forward in his easy chair and began his story, 
 while the young people listened with eager attention. Washington, he 
 said, was born in Virginia on the 22d of February, 1732. His father, 
 x\ugustine Washington, was a wealthy farmer, but his death, when 
 George was eleven years old, deprived his son of his care, and also of the 
 means of getting an education. 
 
 GEORGE ATTENDING SCHOOL. 
 
 He soon acquired all the learning he could gain at a country school, 
 from which he passed to an academy of somewhat higher grade. Here 
 he made a study of mathematics. His half-brother, Lawrence, who was 
 fourteen years older than himself, had received a careful education and 
 directed the studies of his younger brother. 
 
 Though deprived of the care of his father at such an early age, it was 
 the good fortune of George Washington to have in his mother an excel- 
 lent guide. She was a woman of rare good sense, and was an earnest 
 Christian. Her tenderness and sweet disposition won the love of her 
 children, and her firmness enforced their obedience. George had a quick 
 2 17 
 
18 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 temper, and from his mother lie learned tlie lesson of self-control which 
 enabled him to govern it. 
 
 As a boy Washington was noted for his truthfulness and courage. 
 He was both liked and respected by his schoolmates, and such was their 
 confidence in his fairness that he was usually chosen to settle their boyish 
 disputes. He joined heartily in their sports and was noted for his skill 
 in athletic exercises. He was a fearless rider and a good hunter, and by 
 his fondness for manly sports became a very strong young man. He was 
 cheerful and pleasant in temper, though rather shy and grave in manner. 
 He early acquired habits of industry and order, and there are still many 
 things to show the careful manner in which he discharged every duty at 
 
 his early age. 
 
 At the age of fourteen, it was decided that he should enter the navy, 
 and his brother Lawrence, who had served with credit in that branch of 
 the service, had no difficulty in obtaining for him a midshipman's place. 
 
 What is a midshipman, Uncle Frank? said James. 
 
 AFFECTION FOR HIS MOTHER. 
 
 That's right. Uncle Frank replied ; if there is anything you don't 
 know, you should ask about it. People who respectfully ask questions 
 are the ones who are likely to know the most. A midshipman, James, is 
 one on board ship, I mean a war ship, whose business it is to carry mes- 
 sages and orders from the officers in one part of the vessel to the officers 
 
 in another part. 
 
 The ship Washington was to join lay in the Potomac, and his trunk 
 was sent on board; but at the last moment his mother, dreading the temp- 
 tations of a seaman's life upon a boy so young, appealed to him by his 
 affection for her to remain with her. Washington was sorely disappointed, 
 but he yielded cheerfully to his mother's wish. 
 
 His elder brother having married a connection of Lord Fairfax, his 
 lordship gave George Washington, in his eighteenth year, the appoint- 
 ment of surveyor, to survey his lands. In 1751 he was appointed one of 
 the adjutant-generals of Virginia, with the rank of major. Soon after- 
 wards he was sent by the Governor of Virginia to carry a letter to the 
 French commander on the Ohio, forbidding his encroachment on the lands 
 belonging to Virginia. The journey was about 400 miles, 200 of which 
 lay through a trackless wilderness, inhabited by Indians. He left Wil- 
 liamsburg on the 31st of October, and delivered his letter on the 12th of 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 19 
 
 December. Having received an answer lie set out immediately on his re 
 turn, which proved dangerous and toilsome. The following is his owii. 
 account of it, which I will read: 
 
 "As I was uneasy to get back, to make a report of my proceeding to 
 his honor the governor, I determined to prosecute my journey the nearest 
 way, through the woods, and on foot. I took my necessary papers, pulled 
 off my clothes, and tied myself up in a watch-coat. Then, with a gun in 
 my hand, and pack on my back, in which were my papers and provisions, 
 I set out with Mr. Gist, my guide, fitted in the same manner. We fell in 
 with a party of Indians who had lain in wait for us. One of them fired 
 not fifteen steps off, but fortunately missed ; we walked on the remaining 
 part of the night, without making any stop, that we might get the start 
 so far as to be out of reach of their pursuit the next day, as we were v/ell 
 assured that they would follow our track as soon as it was light. The 
 next day we continued travelling until quite dark and got to the river. 
 We expected to have found the river frozen, but it was not more than fifty 
 yards from each shore. The ice, I suppose, had been broken up, for it 
 was driving in vast quantities. 
 
 RAFT GOT JAMMED IN THE ICE. 
 
 " There was no way of getting over but on a raft, which we set about 
 making with one poor hatchet, and finished just after sun-setting : this 
 was one day's work. We got it launched, then went on board of it, and 
 set off; but before we were half way over, we were jammed in the ice, in 
 such a manner that we expected every moment our raft to sink and our- 
 selves to perish. I put out my setting pole to endeavor to stop the raft, 
 that the ice might pass by, when the rapidity of the stream threw it with 
 so much violence against the pole, that it jerked me out into ten feet of 
 water." At length, on the i6th of January, he arrived at Williamsburg; 
 and delivered the important letter to the governor. 
 
 Having been appointed colonel of a regiment raised to defend the 
 rights of the colonists against the French, Washington distinguished 
 himself greatly by his defense of Fort Necessity, although he was finally 
 forced to give up the fight. Having resigned his commission, he retired 
 in 1754, to Mount Vernon, on the Potomac, a country-seat which had been 
 bequeathed him by his brother. In 1755 he accepted the invitation of 
 Braddock, the British General, to enter his family as a volunteer, and ac- 
 companied him in an unfortunate expedition to the Ohio, against the 
 
 ..i-Jtsiii^ 
 
20 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 tFrench and Indians, the result of which, would probably have been very 
 different from what it was, had Braddock followed the prudent advice of 
 his aide. 
 
 When the troops fell into the Indian trap, the officers were singled 
 out by their savage foes and deliberately shot, Washington being the only 
 aide that was not wounded, and on him devolved the whole duty of carr\- 
 ing out the orders of the commander-in-chief. Though he had two horses 
 killed under him, and four balls through his coat, he escaped unhurt, 
 
 DISASTROUS DEFEAT OE GENERAL BRADDOCK. 
 
 while every other officer on horseback was either killed or wounded. Dr. 
 Craik, the physician who attended him in his last sickness, was present at 
 this battle, and says, " I expected every moment to see him fall. Nothing 
 but the superintending care of Providence could have saved him from the 
 fate of all around him." 
 
 After an action of three hours, the troops gave way in all directions, 
 and Colonel Washington and two others brought off Braddock who had 
 been mortally wounded. Washington attempted to rally the retreating 
 troops ; but, as he said himself, it was like attempting to stop the wild 
 bears of the mountains. The conduct of the regular troops was most 
 fOwardl3^ The enemy were few in numbers, with no hope of victory. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 21 
 
 The preservation of Washington during this battle was wonderful. 
 He was exposed more than any other officer, and was particularly the ob- 
 ject of savage attacks on account of his superior bravery. After the de- 
 feat, a famous Indian warrior, who acted a distinguished part in that 
 bloody tragedy, was heard to say that Washington was never born to be 
 killed by a bullet ; " for," said he, " I had seventeen fair shots at him with 
 my rifle, and yet I could not bring him to the ground." 
 
 GALLANT CAPTURE OF THE FORT. 
 
 To bring the French and Indian war to a close it was found necessary 
 to capture Fort Duquesne, which stood where the city of Pittsburg does 
 now. General Bouquet had charge of the American troops in this part 
 of the country. He had with him a force of about two thousand men, 
 chiefly Highlanders and Virginians. Learning from his scouts that Fort 
 Duquesne was held by a garrison of only eight hundred men, of whom 
 three hundred were Indians, Bouquet, without orders from General Forbes, 
 resolved to attempt the capture of the fort by a sudden blow. 
 
 He detached a force of eight hundred Highlanders and a company of 
 Virginians, under Major Grant, to reconnoitre Fort Duquesne. The 
 French were fully informed of all of Grant's movements, but they allowed 
 him to approach unmolested, intending to disarm his vigilance and then 
 attack him. 
 
 The French commander had posted the Indians along the sides of 
 the defile by which Grant was advancing, and at a given signal the gar- 
 rison made a sudden sally from the fort against the Highlanders, while 
 the Indians opened a heavy fire upon them from their place of conceal- 
 ment. The regulars were quickly thrown into confusion, and their officers 
 were found incapable of conducting such a mode of warfare. Attracted by 
 the firing. Major Lewis, with a company of Virginians, hastened to the 
 scene of the- encounter, and by engaging the enemy hand-to-hand enabled 
 the regulars to save themselves from a general massacre. 
 
 The enterprise was on the point of being abandoned when fortunatel}' 
 three prisoners were brought in, from whom Washington drew the infor- 
 mation that the garrison of Fort Duquesne was reduced to a very small 
 force, that the Indians had all deserted the French, and that the expected 
 reinforcements and supplies from Canada had not arrived. It was evident 
 that a well-executed effi)rt would result in the capture of the fort. 
 
 It was then decided to continue the expedition. A force of twenty 
 
WASHINGTON PLANTING THE FLAG ON FORT DUQUESNE. 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 23 
 
 five hundred picked troops was placed under Washington's command, and 
 he was ordered to push forward as rapidly as possible, and prepare the 
 road for the advance of the main army. Washington was ably seconded 
 in his movements, and the march was pressed with such vigor that m ten 
 days the army arrived in the vicinity of Fort Duquesne. 
 
 The French now saw that the fall of the fort was inevitable. They 
 had but five hundred men, and Bradstreet's capture of Fort Frontenac had 
 cut them off from the reinforcements and supplies they had expected from 
 Canada. Unwilling to stand a siege, the result of which was certain, they 
 abandoned the fort on the night of the twenty-fourth of November, and 
 embarking in flat boats, floated down the Ohio to join their countrymen 
 in the valley of the Mississippi. On the morning of the twenty-fifth, 
 Washington, with his gallant band, entered the fort and planted the flag 
 on the ramparts just abandoned by the French. 
 
 After the expulsion of the French from Ohio, and the cessation of 
 hostilities on the part of the Indians, Washington retired to his farm, and 
 soon after married Mrs. Custis, a lady of large fortune, and many accom- 
 plishments. He continued to take an active part in public affairs, and on 
 the approach of hostilities with Great Britain, was chosen to the first Con- 
 gress. On the 14th of June, 1775, he was chosen commander-in-chief of 
 the armies of the United Colonies. 
 
 HARD FIGHTING BY WASHINGTON'S ARMY. 
 He repaired immediately to the headquarters of the American army 
 at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and having forced the British to evacuate 
 Boston, led his army to New York, where he was doomed to witness the 
 defeat of the Americans on Long Island, on the 27th of August, but the 
 retreat of the army was conducted in a masterly manner. After the battle 
 of White Plains, the prospects of the Americans appeared hopeless, but 
 the successes of Trenton and Princeton inspired the army with fresh cour- 
 acre By these, Philadelphia was saved and New Jersey regained. 
 " On the 25th of August, 1777, the British forces under Lord Howe, 
 which had sailed from New York, disembarked at the ferry of Elk river 
 and on the loth of September, the battle of Brandywine was fought and 
 the Americans defeated. In this battle, the young Marquis de la Fayette 
 who had come from France to help the American cause, displayed great 
 courage, and though severely wounded, continued many hours on foot anc. 
 horseback, endeavoring to rally and encourage the troops. 
 
24 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 Major Ferguson, who commanded a rifle corps a day or two previous 
 to this battle, was the hero of a very singular adventure which he thus 
 describes in a letter to a friend : 
 
 " We had not lain long, when a rebel officer, remarkable by a hussar 
 dress, pressed toward our army, within a hundred yards of my right flank, 
 not perceiving us. He was followed by another, dressed in dark green 
 and blue, mounted on a bay horse, with a remarkably high cocked hat. I 
 ordered three good shots to stand near, and fire at them ; but the idea dis- 
 gusting me, I recalled the order. The hussar, in returning, made a cir- 
 cuit, but he passed within a hundred yards of us ; upon which I advanced 
 from the woods towards him. 
 
 '* Upon my calling, he stopped ; but, after looking at me, again pro- 
 ceeded. I again drew his attention, and made signs to him to stop, level- 
 ing my piece at him ; but he slowly cantered away. By quick firing I 
 could have lodged half a dozen balls in or about him, before he was out 
 of my reach. I had only to determine ; but it was not pleasant to fire at 
 the back of an unoffending individual, who was very coolly acquitting 
 himself of his duty; so I let it alone. 
 
 "The next day, the surgeon told me that the wounded rebel officers 
 informed him that General Washington was all the morning with the light 
 troops, and only attended by a French officer in the huzzar dress, he him- 
 self dressed and mounted as I have before described. I am not sorry I 
 did not know who it was at the time.'' 
 
 WASHINGTON PRAYING AT VALLEY FORGE. 
 
 The battle of Brandywine, in Pennsylvania, September ii, 1777, 
 opened the way to Philadelphia for the British, who entered it on the 26th 
 of September. After an unsatisfactory engagement at German town, the 
 American troops were quartered for the winter at Valley Forge, where 
 their sufferings were extreme. One day, a Quaker by the name of Potts 
 had occasion to go to a certain place, which led him through a large grove 
 at no great distance from headquarters. As he was proceeding along, he 
 thought he heard a noise. He stopped and listened. 
 
 He did hear the sound of a human voice at some distance, but quite 
 indistinctly. As it was in the direct course he was pursuing, he went on, 
 but with some caution. At length he came within sight of a man whose 
 back was turned towards him, on- his knees, in the attitude of prayer. 
 Potts now stopped, and soon saw Washington himself, the commander of 
 
GEORGE Wx\SHINGTON. 
 
 25 
 
 the American armies, returning from bending before the God of hosts 
 above. 
 
 Potts himself was a pious man, and no sooner had he reached home, 
 than in the fulness of his faith, he broke forth to his wife Sarah: 
 
 " All's well ! all's well 1 Yes, — George Washington is sure to beat 
 the British—sure/^^ " What's the matter with thee, Isaac ? " replied the 
 startled Sarah. " Thee seems to be much moved about something." 
 
 "Well! what if I am moved? Who would not be moved at such a 
 have 
 
 sight as I 
 seen to-day ? " 
 
 " And what 
 hast thou seen 
 Isaac ?" 
 
 "Seen! I've 
 seen a man at 
 prayer i — in the 
 woods ! — George 
 Washington him- 
 self! And now I 
 say, — just what I 
 /?ave said, — all's 
 well ! George 
 Washington is 
 sure to beat the 
 British ! — sure ! " 
 In June, 1778, 
 the British evacu- 
 ated Philadelphia 
 
 and retreated upon New York closely followed by Washington, who 
 attacked them at Monmouth on the 24th, and fought them with advant- 
 age, although without gaining a decided victory. Washington, having 
 given his orders to La Fayette, was personally engaged in forming the 
 line of the main body near the court-house, and was speaking with Colonel 
 Hartly of the Pennsylvania line, when a cannon ball struck just at his 
 horse's feet, throwing the dirt in his face and over his clothes. The gen- 
 eral continued giving orders without noticing the derangement of his toilet. 
 
 " Never," says La Fayette, " was General Washington greater in war 
 than in " this conflict ; his presence stopped the retreat, his disposition 
 
 VAIvLEY FORGE, PENNSYLVANIA, WHERE WASHINGTON'S 
 ARMY WENT INTO WINTER QUARTERS. 
 
26 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 fixed tlie victory. His fine appearance on horseback, his calm courage 
 roused by the animation produced by the vexation of the morning, gave 
 him the air best calculated to excite enthusiasm." 
 
 In 1 78 1 Washington, in conjunction with Count Rochambeau, 
 planned an expedition against New York, which was abandoned with a 
 view of directing their operations to the south. Demonstrations, however, 
 were made against the city, and Sir Henry Clinton, the British general, 
 was not aware of the change in his intentions. The siege of Yorktown, 
 Virginia, commenced on the 28th of September, and Lord Cornwallis was 
 compelled to surrender, after much hard fighting, on the 19th. 
 
 _ ^ __ If we are called upon 
 
 to admire the conduct and 
 successes of Washington 
 in action, our admiration 
 is no less due to his be- 
 havior in those intervals 
 of repose when the Amer- 
 ican forces had time to 
 reflect upon their wants, 
 and brood over their sup- 
 posed grievances. He 
 quelled mutiny, but he 
 pitied the sufferings that 
 produced it ; and while 
 he was resolved to enforce 
 
 WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT VALLEY FORGE, subordination, he waS nO 
 
 less determined to give all the comfort which it was in his power to bestow. 
 
 On the 25tli of November, 1783, Washington made his public entry 
 into the cit}^ of New York. On the 4th of December the principal officers 
 of the army assembled at Francis' tavern in New York, to take a final 
 leave of their beloved commander-in-chief. Soon after his excellency 
 entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling 
 a glass, and turning to them he said: "With a heart full of love and 
 gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter 
 days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been 
 glorious and honorable." 
 
 Having drank, he added, " I cannot come to each of you, but shall be 
 obliged to you if each of you will come and take me by the hand." Gen- 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 27 
 
 
 eral Knox, being nearest turned to him. Incapable of utterance, Wash- 
 ington in tears grasped bis band, embraced and kissed him. In the same 
 affectionate manner, he took leave of each succeeding officer. 
 
 Leaving the room he passed through the corps of light infantry, and 
 walked to White Hall, where a barge waited to convey him to Paulus' 
 Hook. The whole company followed in mute and solemn procession, 
 with dejected countenances, testifying feelings of melancholy which no 
 pen can describe. Having entered the barge, he turned to the company, 
 and waving his hat, he bade them a silent adieu. They paid him the 
 same affectionate compliment, and after the barge had left them they re- 
 turned in the same 
 solemn manner to 
 the place where 
 they had just as- 
 sembled. 
 
 On the 23d of 
 December, 1783, 
 General Washing- 
 ton resigned his 
 commission to Con- 
 gress then sitting 
 at Annapolis. But 
 he was not permit- 
 ted to remain in his 
 retirement • for the Washington's house, high street, Philadelphia. 
 
 nation, aware of the importance of securing his wisdom and influence, 
 chose him the first President, under the new constitution of 1789. 
 
 In the first Presidency, the door of the President's house gathered but 
 little rust on its hinges, while often was its latch lifted by the " broken 
 soldier." Scarce a day passed that some veteran of the heroic time did not 
 present himself at headquarters. The most battered of these types of the 
 days of privation and trial were " kindly bid to stay," were offered refresh- 
 ment and then dismissed with lighter hearts and heavier pouches. 
 
 So passed the many ; but not so with one of Erin's sons. It was 
 about the hour of the Tuesday levee, when German John, the porter, 
 opened to a hearty rap, expecting to admit at least a Congressman or 
 foreign Ambassador, when who should march into the hall but an old 
 fellow whose weather-beaten countenance and well-worn apparel showed 
 
28 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 him to be no great man. His introduction was short, but to the purpose. 
 He liad come to headquarters to see his honor's excellence, God bless 
 him ! He was an old soldier. 
 
 In vain the porter assured him that it would be impossible to see the 
 President at that time ; a great company was momently expected ; the 
 hall was not a fitting place ; would he not go to the steward's apartment 
 and get something to eat and drink ? To all which Pat replied he was in 
 no hurry; that he would wait his honor's leisure; — and taking a chair 
 composed and made himself comfortable. 
 
 And now passed ministers of state and foreign ministers, senators, 
 judges, and the great and the gay ; meanwhile poor Pat stoutly maintained 
 his post, gazing on the crowd till the levee ended. The President, about 
 to retire to his library, was informed that an obstinate Irishman had taken 
 possession of the hall, and would be satisfied with nothing short of an 
 interview with the President himself 
 
 GENERAL WASHINGTON AND THE IRISH SOLDIER. 
 
 The Chief good-naturedly turned into the hall. So soon as the old 
 veteran saw his old commander, he roared out, " Long life to your honor's 
 excellenc}^ ! " at the same time hurling his hat to the ground, and erect- 
 ing himself with military precision. " Your honor will not remember me ; 
 though many is the day that I have marched under your orders, and 
 many's the hard knock I've had, too. I belonged to Wayne's brigade — 
 Mad Antony the British called him, and, by the powers, he was always 
 mad enough for them. I was wounded in the battle of Germantown. 
 Hurrah for America I and it does my heart good to see your honor, and 
 how is the dear lady and the little ones ? " 
 
 Here the usually grave temperament of Washington gave way, as 
 with a smile he replied that he was well, as was Mrs. Washington ; but 
 they were unfortunate in having no children ; then pressing a token into 
 the soldier's hand, he ascended the staircase to his library. The Irish- 
 man followed \\ath his eyes the retiring general, then looked again and 
 again upon the token which he had received from his honoris own hand^ 
 put it in his pocket, recovered his hat, which he placed with military 
 exactness a little on one side, then took up his line of march, and as he 
 passed the porter, he cried out, " there, now, you Hessian fellow, you see 
 his honor's excellence has not forgotten an old soldier." 
 
 Throughout the eight years of his Presidential career, Washington 
 
GEORGE WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 did nothing to forfeit the esteem of his fellow citizens, who acknowledged 
 him, " first in peace, first in war, and first in the hearts of his country- 
 men." An Englishman in Philadelphia, speaking of the Presidency of 
 Washington, was expressing a desire to see him. While this conversa- 
 tion passed, " there he goes," cried the American, pointing to a tall, erect, 
 dignified personage, passing on the other side of the street. " That Gen- 
 eral Washington!" exclaimed the Englishman; "where is his guard?" 
 '' Here P^ replied the American, striking on his breast with emphasis. 
 
 On Friday, the 13th of December, 1799, exposure to wet produced an 
 inflammatory disorder of the throat, which terminated fatally on the night 
 of Saturday. The deep and wide-spread grief occasioned by this melan- 
 choly event, assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of pay- 
 ing the last tribute of respect to the first of Americans. On Wednesday, 
 the 1 8th of December, attended by military honors and the ceremonies of 
 religion, his body was deposited in the family vault at Mount Vernon. 
 
 This place is a short distance below Washington, and is reached by 
 boat on the Potomac River. The old house that Washington lived in is 
 still standing, and when we had our World's Fair at Chicago a house was 
 built there exactly like Washington's at Mount Vernon. Of course, hun- 
 dreds of thousands of persons visited it, and went through all the rooms, 
 to see what kind of a house he lived in. Many persons who visit the 
 city of Washington take a trip to Mount Vernon, which is one of the 
 most interesting spots in our country. 
 
 WTien Uncle Frank had finished his story of Washington his young 
 friends thanked him for telling them so much about the Father of his 
 Country. 
 
 I trust that you will remember what I have said, replied Uncle Frank, 
 and now I will ask you some questions and see if you can answer them. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 When and where was Washington born ? What chance did he have 
 to get an education ? What wish of his mother did he obey ? What was 
 his first service in the army ? What gallant act did he perform at Fort 
 Duquesne ? Mention some of his exploits in the War of the Revolution ? 
 What escapes from death did he have ? What high office was he called 
 to after gaining the independence of his country ? Tell me the story of 
 the Irishman who called on him when he was President. What was the 
 cause of his death and how old was he ? 
 
EGBERT FULTOlvr 
 
 A]^D HIS STEAMBOAT. 
 
 NCLH Frank laid aside his newspaper as the young 
 people came tripping into the sitting-room, their faces 
 all aglow with health and enjoyment. We are ready 
 for another story, Uncle, said James, drawing a chair 
 up for himself 
 
 Mabel and Elsie want chairs, too, don't they? said 
 Uncle Frank. Why do you not wait upon them ? We 
 must think of others beside ourselves. 
 
 James smiled pleasantly, ran to the other side of 
 the room, drew up two chairs, and soon the group were ready for the story. 
 I must tell you to-day^ began Uncle Frank, about Robert Fulton and 
 the first steamboat that was ever a success. Fulton was born in Little 
 Britain, Lancaster Co., Pennsylvania. When a boy he was fond of ma- 
 chinery, and if he did not understand how any machine worked, he would 
 spend hours trying to find out. 
 
 THE FIRST STEAMBOAT AND ITS MISHAP. 
 
 When quite a young man Fulton went to France. During his resi- 
 dence in Paris he had made the acquaintance of Mr. Robert R. Living- 
 ston, then the American minister in France, who had previously been 
 connected with some unsuccessful steamboat experiments at home. Mr. 
 Livingston was delighted to find a man of Fulton's genius so well satis- 
 fied that boats could be made to go by steam, and joined heartily with him 
 in his efforts to prove it. 
 
 Several small working models made by Fulton convinced Mr. Living- 
 ston that the former had discovered and had overcome the cause of the 
 failure of the experiments of other inventors, and it was finally agreed 
 between them to build a large boat for trial on the Seine. That is a river 
 which you will see if you ever go to Paris. This experimental steamer 
 was furnished with paddle wheels, and was completed and launched early 
 in the spring of 1803. 
 30 
 
 \ i 
 
ROBERT FULTON. 
 
 81 
 
 On the very morning appointed for the trial, Fulton was aroused from 
 his sleep by a messenger from the boat, who rushed into his chamber, pale 
 and breathless, exclaiming, " Oh, sir, the boat has broken in pieces aud 
 gone to the bottom I" Hastily dressing and huirying to the spot, he 
 found that the weight of the machinery had broken the boat in half 
 and carried the whole structure to the bottom of the river. He at once 
 
 ROBERT Fulton's first steamboat. 
 
 set to work to raise the machinery, devoting twenty-four hours, without 
 resting or eating, to the undertaking, and succeeded in doing so, but 
 inflicted upon his constitution a strain from which he never entirely 
 recovered. The machinery was very slightly damaged, but it was neces- 
 sary to rebuild the boat entirely. This was accomplished by July of the 
 same year, and the boat was tried in August with triumphant success, in 
 the presence of the French National Institute and a vast crowd of the 
 citizens of Paris. 
 
 This steamer was very defective, but still so great an improvement 
 
32 ROBERT FULTON. 
 
 upon all tliat bad preceded it, that Messrs. Fulton and Livings ton deter- 
 mined to build one on a larger scale in tbe waters of New York, tbe right 
 of navigating which by steam vessels had been secured by the latter as 
 far back as 1798. 
 
 Fulton returned to America and began building his boat. Every- 
 body laughed at him and said it would be a failure, but he went on with 
 his work^ his boat attracting no less attention and exciting no less ridicule 
 than the ark had received from the scoffers in the days of Noah. A 
 steam-engine ordered in England was received in the latter part of 1806; 
 and in the following spring the boat was launched. Fulton named her 
 the Clermont, after the country-seat of his friend and partner. Chancellor 
 Livingston. 
 
 She was one hundred and sixty tons burthen, one hnndred and thirty 
 feet long, eighteen feet wide, and seven feet deep. Her boiler was twenty 
 feet long, seven feet deep, and eight feet broad. The diameter of the 
 paddle-wheels was fifteen feet. The boat was completed about the last of 
 August, and she was moved by her machinery from the East River into 
 the Hudson, and over to the Jersey shore. 
 
 GREAT CROWD EXPECTS TO SEE A FAILURE. 
 
 This trial, brief as it was, satisfied Fulton of its success, and he an- 
 nounced that in a few days the steamer would sail from New York for 
 Albany. A few friends, including several scientific men and mechanics, were 
 invited to take passage in the boat, to witness her performance ; and they 
 accepted the invitation with a general conviction that they were to do but 
 little more than v/itness another failure. 
 
 Monday, September 10, 1807, came at length, and a vast crowd 
 assembled along the shore of the North River to witness the starting. As 
 the hour for sailing drew near, the crowd increased, and jokes were passed 
 on all sides at the expense of the inventor, who paid little attention to 
 them, however, but busied himself in making a final and close inspection 
 of the machiner3^ 
 
 Says Fulton, " The morning I left New York, there were not, per- 
 haps, thirty persons in the city who believed that the boat would ever 
 move one mile per hour, or be of the least use ; and while we were putting 
 off from the wharf, which was crowded with spectators, I heard a number 
 of sarcastic remarks." 
 
 One o'clock, the hour for sailing, came, and expectation was at its 
 
THOMAS A. EDISON IN HIS LABORATORY 
 
Hl-RV^t'S IN OVR \\ \\< Willi SPAIN 
 
ROBERT FUI.TON. 33 
 
 highest. The friends of the inventor were in a state of feverish anxiety 
 lest the enterprise should come to grief, and the scoffers on the wharf 
 were all ready to give vent to their shouts of derision. Precisely as the 
 hour struck, the moorings were thrown off, and the Clermont moved 
 slowly out into the stream. Volumes of smoke and sparks from her 
 furnaces, which were fed with pine wood, rushed forth from her chimney, 
 and her wheels, which were uncovered, scattered the spray far behind her. 
 The spectacle she presented as she moved out gradually from her dock 
 was certainly novel to the people of those days, and the crowd on the 
 wharf broke into shouts of ricicule. 
 
 LOUD CHEERS FROM THE VAST THRONG. 
 
 Soon, however, the jeers grew silent, for it was seen that the steamer 
 was by degrees increasing her speed. In a little while she was fairly 
 under weigh, and making a steady progress up the stream at the rate of 
 five miles per hour. The doubts of the spectators had been succeeded by 
 surprise, and now this feeling gave way to great delight, and cheer after 
 cheer went up from the vast throng. Many people followed the boat for 
 some distance up the river shore. In a little while, however, the boat 
 was observed to stop, and the enthusiasm of the people on the shore at 
 once died out. The scoffers were again in their glory, and pronounced 
 the boat a failure. 
 
 Their chagrin may be imagined when, after a short delay, the steamer 
 once more proceeded on her way, and this time even more rapidly than 
 before. Fulton had discovered that the paddles were too long, and took 
 too deep a hold on the water, and had stopped the boat for the purpose of 
 shortening them. 
 
 Having remedied this defect, the Clermont continued her voyage dur- 
 ing the rest of the day and all night, without stopping, and at one o'clock 
 the next day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of Chancellor 
 Livingston. She lay there until nine the next morning, when she con- 
 tinued her voyage toward Albany, reaching that city at five in the after- 
 noon, having made the entire distance between New York and Albany 
 (one hundred and fifty miles) in thirty-two hours of actual running time, 
 an average speed of nearly five miles per hour. On her return trip she 
 reached New York in thirty hours, running time — exactly five miles per 
 hour. Fulton states that during both trips he encountered a head wind. 
 
 The river was at this time navigated entirely with sailing vessels, and 
 3 
 
84 ROBERT FULTON. 
 
 large numbers of tliese were met by tbe Clermont during ber up and down 
 trips. Tbe surprise and dismay excited among tbe crews of tbese vessels 
 by tbe appearance of tbe steamer was extreme. Tbese simple people, tbe 
 majority of wbom bad beard notbing of Fulton's experiments, bebeld wbat 
 tbey supposed to be a buge monster, vomiting fire and smoke from its 
 tbroat, lashing tbe water witb its fins, and sbaking tbe river witb its roar, 
 approacbing rapidly in tbe very face of both wind and tide. 
 
 THOUGHT THE STEAMBOAT A TERRIBLE MONSTER. 
 
 Some tbrew tbemselves flat on tbe decks of tbeir vessels, wbere tbey 
 remained in an agony of terror until tbe monster bad passed, while others 
 took to tbeir boats and made for tbe shore in dismay, leaving their vessels 
 to drift helplessly down the stream. Nor was this terror confined to the 
 sailors. The people dwelling along the shore crowded the banks to gaze 
 upon the steamer as she passed by. A former resident of the neighbor- 
 hood of Poughkeepsie thus describes tbe scene at that place, which will 
 serve as a specimen of tbe conduct of the people along the entire river 
 below Albany. I will read it to you : 
 
 " The whole country talked of nothing but tbe sea-monster, belching 
 forth fire and smoke. The fishermen became terrified, and rowed home- 
 wards, and they saw nothing but destruction devastating their fishing- 
 grounds ; while tbe wreaths of black vapor, and rushing noise of tbe 
 paddle-wheels, foaming with the stirred-up waters, produced great excite- 
 ment among tbe boatmen, which continued without abatement, until the 
 character of the curious boat bad been understood." 
 
 Tbe alarm of the sailors and dwellers on the river shore disappeared 
 as tbe character of the steamer became better known ; but when it was 
 found that the Clermont was to run regularly between New York and 
 Albany, as a packet-boat, she became tbe object of the most intense hatred 
 on the part of the boatmen on the river, who feared that she would entirely 
 destroy their business. In many quarters Fulton and his invention were 
 denounced, and frequently attempts were ;nade by captains of sailing vessels 
 to sink the Clermont by running into her. She was several times damaged 
 in this way, and the bostilit}^ of the boatmen became so great that it was 
 necessary for tbe Legislature of New York to pass a law declaring combi- 
 nations to destroy her, or willful attempts to injure her, public offences 
 punishable by fine and imprisonment. 
 
 It bad been supposed that Fulton's object was to produce a steamer 
 
STEPHEN GIRARD. 85 
 
 capable of navigating tlie Mississippi River, and mucli surprise was occa- 
 sioned by tlie announcement tbat tlie Clermont was to be permanently 
 employed upon the Hudson. She continued to ply regularly between 
 New York and Albany, carrying passengers and freight. 
 
 This, said Uncle Frank, was the beginning of steam navigation. 
 Look now at our own great battleships and fine ocean steamers. 
 
 Now, let me ask what you learn from this story ? 
 
 Fulton went right ahead and wouldn't give up, said James. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who built the first successful steamboat ? Where was he born and 
 when ? Who became his friend in Paris ? On what river did Fulton 
 navigate his first boat? Describe the scene as the Clermont started. 
 At what rate per hour did she make her first voyage to Albany and back ? 
 What did the sailors on the river and the people on shore think of her ? 
 
 STEPHEN GIRAED 
 
 AND HIS COLLEGE FOR POOR BOYS. 
 
 B are ready. Uncle Frank, if you are, said James as the 
 young people gathered about the table in the sitting- 
 room. The weather was threatening and Uncle Frank 
 and his young friends remained indoors. 
 
 What will you tell us about to-day ? asked Mabel. 
 I was thinking of Stephen Girard, said Uncle 
 Frank. 
 
 I know, said Elsie ; he was that rich Philadelphia 
 merchant that was such a droll man. 
 Yes, very singular, but possessed of many good traits, very shrewd 
 and odd, yet a man who became very rich, said Uncle Frank. 
 
 One May morning, in the year 1776, the mouth of the Delaware Bay 
 was shrouded in a dense fog, which cleared away toward noon, and 
 revealed several vessels just off the capes. From one of these, a sloop, 
 floated the flag of France and a signal of distress. An American, ship ran 
 alongside the stranger, in answer to her signal, and found that the French 
 
36 
 
 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
 captain had lost his reckoning in a fog, and was in total ignorance of his 
 whereabouts. 
 
 His vessel, he said, was bound from New Orleans to a Canadian port, 
 and he was anxious to proceed on his voyage. The American skipper 
 informed him of his locality, and also of the fact that war had broken out 
 between the colonies and Great Britain, and that the American coast was 
 
 so well lined with British 
 cruisers that he would 
 never reach port but as 
 a prize. 
 
 "What shall I do?" 
 cried the Frenchman, in 
 great alarm. 
 
 " Enter the bay, and 
 make a push for Phila- 
 delphia," was the reply. 
 " It is youronly chance." 
 The Frenchman pro- 
 tested that he did not 
 know the way, and had 
 no pilot. The American 
 captain, pitying his dis- 
 tress, found him a pilot, 
 and even loaned him five 
 dollars, which the pilot 
 demanded in advance. 
 The sloop got under 
 weigh again, and passed 
 into the Delaware, be- 
 yond the defenses which 
 had been erected for its 
 protection, just in time to avoid capture by a British war vessel which 
 now made its appearance at the mouth of the bay. 
 
 Philadelphia was reached in due time, and, as the war bade fair to put 
 an end to his voj^ages, the captain sold the sloop and her cargo, of which 
 he was part owner, and, entering a small store in Water street, began the 
 business of a grocer and wine-bottler. His capital was small, his business 
 trifling in extent, and he himself labored under the disadvantage of being 
 
 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
STEPHEN GIRARD. 87 
 
 almost unable to speak the English language. In person he was short 
 and stout, with a dull, repulsive countenance, which his bushy eyebrows 
 and solitary eye (being blind in the other) made almost hideous. He was 
 cold and reserved in manner, and was disliked by his neighbors, the most 
 of whom were afraid of him. 
 
 This man was Stephen Girard, who was afterward destined to play so 
 important a part in the history of the city to which the mere chances of 
 war sent him a stranger. 
 
 He was born at Bordeaux, in France, on the 21st of May, 1750, and 
 was the eldest of the five children of Captain Pierre Girard, a mariner, or 
 sailor, of that city. His life at home was a hard one. At the age of eight 
 years, he discovered that he was blind in one eye, and the grief which this 
 discovery caused him appears to have soured his entire life. He afterward 
 declared that his father treated him with considerable neglect, and that, 
 while his younger brothers were sent to college, he was made to content 
 himself with merely a knowledge of reading and writing. 
 
 A CABIN BOY ON A SHIP. 
 
 When he was quite young, his mother died, and, as his father soon 
 married again, the cuffs and scoldings of a step-mother were added to his 
 other troubles. When about thirteen years of age, he left home, with his 
 father's consent, and began, as a cabin-boy, the life of a sailor. For nine 
 years he sailed between Bordeaux and the French West Indies, rising 
 steadily from his position of cabin-boy to that of mate. He improved his 
 leisure time at sea, until he was not only master of the art of navigation, 
 but generally well informed for a man in his station. 
 
 His father possessed sufficient influence to procure him the command 
 of a vessel, in spite of the law of France which required that no man 
 should be made master of a ship unless he had sailed two cruises in the 
 royal navy and was twenty-five years old. Gradually Girard was enabled 
 to amass a small sum of money, which he invested in cargoes easily dis- 
 posed of in the ports to which he sailed. Three years after he was 
 licensed to command, he made his first appearance in the port of Philadel- 
 phia. He was then twenty-six years old. 
 
 From the time of his arrival in Philadelphia he devoted himself to 
 business with an energy and industry which never failed. He despised 
 no labor, and was willing to undertake any honest means of making a liv- 
 ing. He bought and sold any thing, from groceries to old "junk." His 
 
38 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
 chief profit, however, was in his wine and cider, which he bottled and sold 
 readily. His business prospered, and he was regarded as a thriving man 
 from the start. It was considered quite honorable in those days to sell 
 wines and liquors. 
 
 In July, 1777, he married Mary Lum, a servant girl of great beauty, 
 and somewhat cross and ill-tempered as well. The union was an unhappy 
 one, as the husband and wife were unsuited to each other. Seven years 
 after her marriage, Mrs. Girard showed symptoms of insanity, which 
 became so decided that her husband was compelled to place her in the 
 State Asylum for the Insane. He appears to have done every thing in his 
 power to restore her to reason. Being pronounced cured, she returned to 
 her home, but he was afterward compelled to place her permanently in the 
 Pennsylvania Hospital, where, nine months after, she gave birth to a 
 female child, which happily died. Mrs. Girard never recovered her rea- 
 son, but died in 181 5, and was buried in the hospital grounds. 
 
 FLEES FROM PHILADELPHIA FOR SAFETY. 
 
 To go back a little, Girard fled from Philadelphia, with his wife, in 
 September, 1777, at the approach of the British, and purchased a house at 
 Mount Holly, near Burlington, New Jersey, where he carried on his bot- 
 tling business. His claret commanded a ready sale among the British in 
 Philadelphia, and his profits were large. In June, 1778, the city was 
 given lip by Lord Howe, the British commander, and he was allowed to 
 return to his former home. 
 
 Though he traded with the British, Girard considered himself a true 
 patriot, as indeed he was. On the 27th of October, 1778, he took the oath 
 of allegiance required by the State of Pennsylvania, and renewed it the 
 year following, that is, he promised to be a good, loyal citizen. The war 
 almost destroyed the commerce of the country, which was slow in recover- 
 ing its former prosperity ; but, in spite of this discouraging circumstance, 
 Girard worked on steadily, scorning no employment, however humble, 
 that would yield a profit. 
 
 Already he had formed the plans which led to his immense wealth. 
 Whatever he undertook prospered, and though his gains were small, they 
 were carefully laid up, and at the proper time invested in such a manner 
 as to produce a still greater yield. Stephen Girard knew the value of lit- 
 tle things, and he knew how to take advantage of the most trifling cir- 
 cumstance. His career teaches what may be done with these little things, 
 
STEPHEN GIRARD. 89 
 
 and sliows How even a few dollars, properly managed, may be made to 
 
 produce as many thousands. 
 
 At tlie outbreak of the great insurrection among the black people in 
 St. Domingo, in 1791, Girard had two vessels lying in one of the ports of 
 that island. At the first signal of danger, a number of planters sent their 
 valuables on board of these ships for safe keeping, and went back to their 
 estates for the purpose of securing more. They never returned, doubtless 
 falling victims to the fury of the brutal negroes, and when the vessels 
 were ready to sail there was no one to claim the property they contained. It 
 was taken to Philadelphia, and was most liberally advertised by Mr. Girard, 
 but as no owner ever appeared to demand it, it was sold, and the proceeds 
 — about fifty thousand dollars— turned into the merchant's own cofiers. 
 This was a great assistance to him, and the next year he began the build- 
 ing of those splendid ships which enabled him to engage so actively in 
 the Chinese and Bast India trades. 
 
 GIRARD HAD NO FAITH IN LUCK. 
 
 His course was now onward and upward to wealth. At first his ships 
 merely sailed between Philadelphia and the port to which they were origi- 
 nally destined ; but at length he was enabled to do more than this. Load- 
 ing one of his ships with grain, he would send it to Bordeaux, where the 
 proceeds of her cargo would be invested in wine and fruit. These she 
 would take to St. Petersburg and exchange for hemp and iron, which were 
 sold at Amsterdam for coin. From Amsterdam she would proceed to 
 China and India, and, purchasing a cargo of silks and teas, sail for Phila- 
 delphia, where the final purchase was sold by the owner for cash or good 
 paper. His success was constant, and was attributed by his brother mer- 
 chants to lit ck. 
 
 Stephen Girard had no faith in luck. He never trusted anything to 
 chance. He was a thorough seaman, and was perfect master of the 
 knowledge required in directing long voyages. He was familiar with the 
 ports with which he dealt, and was always able to obtain such information 
 concerning them as he desired, in advance of others. He trusted nothing 
 of importance to anybody else. His instructions to the commanders of 
 his ships were always full and precise. 
 
 Upon one occasion one of his best captains was told to buy his cargo 
 of teas at a certain port. Upon reaching home he was summoned by the 
 merchant to his presence. 
 
40 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
 " Captain Blank," said Mr. Girard, sternly, *' you were told to buy 
 your cargo at Canton." 
 
 '' That is true, Mr. Girard," replied the Captain, " but upon reaching 
 that port I found I could do so much better at Hong Kong, that I felt 
 justified in proceeding to the latter place." 
 
 " You should always obey your orders, sir," was the stern reply. 
 
 " I wanted to serve your interests, sir. The result ought to justify 
 me in my act, since it put many thousands more into your pocket than if 
 I had bought where I was instructed." 
 
 " Captain Blank," said Girard, " I take care of my own interests. 
 You should have obeyed your orders if you had broken me. Nothing can 
 excuse your disobedience. You will hand in your accounts, sir, and con- 
 sider yourself discharged from my service." 
 
 THE CAPTAIN WHO DISOBEYED WAS DISCHARGED. 
 
 He was as good as his word, and, though the captain's disobedience 
 had vastly increased the profit of the voyage, he dismissed him. 
 
 The way he kept his word is well shown by a circumstance which 
 occurred long after he was one of the " money kings " of the land. He 
 was once engaged with his cashier in guessing the length of time a man 
 would take in counting a million dollars, telling out each dollar separ- 
 ately. The dispute became warm, and the cashier declared that he could 
 make a million of dots with ink in a few hours. 
 
 " I'll tell you what I'll do," said Girard, who was thoroughly vexed 
 
 by the opposition of the other, " I'll wager five hundred dollars that I can 
 ride in my gig from here to my farm, spend two hours there, and return 
 before you can make your million dots with ink." 
 
 The cashier, after a moment's reflection, accepted the wager, and Mr. 
 Girard departed to his farm. He returned in a few hours, confident that 
 lie had won. The cashier met him with a smile. 
 
 " Where is my money ?'' asked Girard, triumphantly. 
 
 •' The money is mine," replied the cashier. " Come and see." 
 
 He led the merchant to an unused room of the bank, and there, to 
 his dismay, Girard saw the walls and ceiling covered with ink, which the 
 cashier had dashed on them with a brush. 
 
 " Do you mean to say there are a million dots here?" he cried, angrily. 
 
 " Count them and see," replied the cashier, laughing. " You know 
 the wager was a million of dots with ink." 
 
STEPHEN GIRARjD. 41 
 
 *^ But I expected you would make them witli tlie peu." 
 " I did not undertake anytking of tke kind." 
 
 The joke was too good, and the merchant not only paid the amount 
 of the wager, but the cost of cleaning the walls. 
 
 A VERY SINGULAR MAN. 
 
 In the midst of all his wealth, which in 1828 was estimated at ten 
 millions of dollars, Girard was a lonely old man. He lived in a dingy lit- 
 tle house in Water street. His wife had died in an insane asylum, and he 
 was childless. He was repulsive in person. He was feared by his 
 employes— by all who had dealings with him — and liked by none. He 
 was mean and close in his personal habits, living on less, perhaps, than 
 any of his clerks, and deriving little or no benefit from his vast wealth, so 
 far as his own comfort was concerned. He gave nothing in charity. 
 Lazarus would have lain at his doors a life-time without being noticed by 
 him. He was lonely, soured, cold, with a heart of stone, and fully aware 
 of his personal unpopularity. Yet he valued wealth — valued it for the 
 power it gave him over men. 
 
 He had no vices, no bad habits ; his whole soul was in his business. 
 He knew that his only hope of praise from his fellow-men was in his 
 wealth, and he was resolved that nothing should make him swerve from 
 his endeavor to get a fortune which should make him all powerful in life 
 and remembered in death. He sought no friends, and was silent as to his 
 career, saying to those who questioned him about it, " Wait till I am dead ; 
 my deeds will show what I was.'' 
 
 In the summer of 1793 the yellow fever broke out with fearful vio- 
 lence in Philadelphia. The citizens fled in dismay, leaving the plague- 
 smitten city to its fate. Houses were left empty, and the streets were 
 deserted. It was a season of horror and dread. Those who could not get 
 away avoided each other, and the sufferers were left to languish and die. 
 Money could not buy nurses in sufficient numbers, and often the victims 
 lay unburied for days in the places where they had died. So terrible was 
 the panic that it seemed that nothing could stay it. 
 
 Meetings were held at the City Hall, and a volunteer committee was 
 appointed to superintend the measures to be taken for checking the pesti- 
 lence. Twenty-seven men volunteered to serve, but only twelve had the 
 courage to fulfill their promise. They set to work promptly. The hos- 
 pital at Bush Hill was reported by the physician to be in a very bad state 
 
42 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
 — ^without order, dirty and foul, and in need of nurses. Tlie last, he 
 stated, could not be had for any price. Two of the committee now stepped 
 forward and nobly offered themselves as managers of the hospital. They 
 were Stephen Girard and Peter Helm. 
 
 Girard was now a man of wealth and influence, yet he did not hesitate 
 to take the post from which others shrank. He and Helm were regarded 
 as doomed men, but they did not falter from their task. They went to 
 work at once. Girard chose the post of honor, which was the post of dan- 
 ger — the management of the interior of the hospital. Order began to 
 appear, medicines and nurses were procured, and the very next day the 
 committee were informed that the hospital had been cleaned and put in 
 shape, and was prepared to receive patients. 
 
 SHOWED HIMSELF TO BE A HERO. 
 
 Girard opened his purse liberally, and spared no expense where 
 money would avail. But this was not all. Besides looking after the hos- 
 pital, he went about through the city seeking the sick and conveying them 
 to the hospital. 
 
 In the great scarcity of help, he used frequently to receive the sick 
 and dying at the gate, assist in carrying them to their beds, nurse them, 
 receive their last messages, watch for their last breath, and then, wrapping 
 them in the sheet on which they had died, carry them out to the burial 
 ground and place them in the trench. He had great difficulty of finding 
 any kind of fabric in which to wrap the dead, when the vast number of 
 burials had exhausted the supply of sheets. "I would put them," he 
 said, " in any old rag I could find." 
 
 If he ever left the hospital, it was to assist in removing the sick from 
 the houses in which they were dying without help. One scene of this 
 kind, witnessed by a merchant who was hurrying past with camphored 
 handkerchief pressed to his mouth, affords us a vivid glimpse of this 
 heroic man engaged in his noble work. A carriage, rapidly driven by a 
 black man, broke the silence of the deserted and grass-grown street. It 
 stopped before a frame house, and the driver, first having bound a hand- 
 kerchief over his mouth, opened the door of the carriage, and quickly 
 remounted to the box. 
 
 A short, thick-set man stepped from the coach and entered the house. 
 In a minute or two the observer, who stood at a safe distance watching the 
 proceedings, heard a shuffling noise in the entry, and soon saw the stout 
 
STEPHEN GIRARD. 43 
 
 little man supporting with extreme difficulty a tall, gaunt, yellow-visaged 
 victim of the pestilence. Girard held round the waist the sick man, whose 
 yellow face rested against his own ; his long, damp, tangled hair mingled 
 with Girard's ; his feet dragging helpless upon the pavement. Thus he 
 drew him to the carriage door, the driver turning his face from the sight, 
 far from offering to assist. Partly dragging, partly lifting, Girard suc- 
 ceeded, after long and severe exertion, in getting him into the vehicle. 
 He then entered it himself, and the carriage drove toward the hospital. 
 
 For sixty days Mr. Girard continued to discharge his duties, never 
 absenting himself from his post, being nobly sustained by Peter Helm. 
 
 Such acts, said Uncle Frank, are grand. You will hear of many 
 deeds of heroism, my young friends, but nothing more sublime and worthy 
 of praise than what I have just told you. 
 
 MEETS WITH A SERIOUS ACCIDENT. 
 
 To the last Girard was active. In 1830, having reached the age of 
 eighty, he began to lose the sight of his eye ; yet he would have no assist- 
 ance. In attempting to cross a crowded street, he was knocked down by 
 a passing wagon and injured severely. His ear was cut off, his face 
 bruised, and his sight entirely destroyed. His health now declined rap- 
 idly, and on the 26th of December, 183 1, he died. 
 
 His immense wealth was carefully divided by his will. He gave to 
 his surviving brother and eleven of his nieces sums ranging from five to 
 twenty thousand dollars, and to his remaining niece, who was the mother 
 of a very large family, he gave sixty thousand dollars. He gave to each 
 of the captains then in his employ who had made two voyages in his 
 service, and who should bring his ship safely into port, fifteen hundred 
 dollars. To each of his apprentices he gave five hundred dollars. To his 
 old servants yearly sums, ranging from three to five hundred dollars. 
 
 He gave thirty thousand dollars to the Pennsylvania Hospital, in 
 which his wife had been cared for ; twenty thousand to the Deaf and 
 Dumb Asylum; ten thousand to the Orphan Asylum; ten thousand to 
 the Lancaster schools ; ten thousand for the purpose of providing the 
 poor in Philadelphia with free fuel ; ten thousand U the Society for the 
 Relief of Distressed Sea-Captains and their Families ; twenty thousand to 
 the Masonic Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, for the relief of poor members ; 
 six thousand for the establishment of ci free school in Passyunk, near 
 Philadelphia : five hundred thousand dollars tr the Corporation of Phila- 
 
44 
 
 STEPHEN GIRARD. 
 
 delpHa for certain improvements in the city ; three hundred thousand to 
 the State of Pennsylvania for her canals; and aj portion of his valuable 
 estates in Louisiana to New Orleans, for the improvements of that city. 
 
 The remainder of his property, worth then about six millions of 
 dollars, he left to trustees for the erection and endowment of the noble 
 College for Orphans, in Philadelphia, which bears his name. 
 
 GIRARD COI.LEGE, PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 Thus it will be seen that this man, who seemed steeled to resist 
 appeals for private charity in life, in death gave all his money to the 
 noblest objects, and I am not -surprised that persons who wished to honor 
 his memory set up a bronze statue of him on the west side of the City 
 Hall in Philadelphia. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 How did Girard first come to visit Philadelphia ? Where was he 
 bom and when ? What was his occupation in early life ? Whom did he 
 marry ? What were his prominent traits of character ? How did he 
 profit by the insurrection in St. Domingo? Why did he discharge one of 
 his ship captains ? What singular bet did he make with his cashier and 
 who won it? Narrate what Girard did when the yellow fever visited 
 Philadelphia. Repeat the story of Girard carrying a man to a carriage 
 to get him to the hospital. What accident did he meet with and how did 
 it affect his health ? How did he dispose of his vast fortune ? 
 
MOLLY PITCHEE 
 
 AND HEE BEAYE DEED. 
 
 [EAR Uncle Frank, said Elsie, Mabel and I would like 
 ^ you to tell us about Molly Pitcber. We read some- 
 tbing about ber in a newspaper tbe otber day, but 
 we don't know tbe wbole story ; so please tell us. 
 
 I would like to know it too, said James ; wbo 
 was sbe, and wbat did sbe do ? 
 
 I will tell you, said Uncle Frank, and you will 
 be interested I am sure, because it is tbe story of a 
 very brave woman. It was tbe custom during tbe 
 American Revolution for women, generally wives of private soldiers, to 
 follow tbe armies into tbe field as laundry women. Tbe records of Sir 
 Henry Clinton's Englisb army sbow tbis fact, and to some extent tbis 
 was true of tbe Americans. Every regiment bad women wbo did duty in 
 laundering for tbe officers and bad quarters assigned tbem and wagons to 
 carry tbem from place to place. Tbe records of tbe battle of Monmoutb 
 sbow tbat tbese camp followers of Sir Henry's army were sent from 
 Pbiladelpbia around tbe Delaware Bay to New York in skips or trans- 
 ports. 
 
 In Wasbington's army tbe same custom was followed. Tbere were 
 doubtless a number of women wbo followed Wasbington to Monmoutb 
 and so on to New Brunswick, and wbo, after tbe war, settled bere and 
 tbere tbrougbout tbe country. 
 
 Molly Pitcber's rigbt name was Mary Ludwig. Sbe was tbe daugbter 
 of Jobn George Ludwig, and was born on October tbe I3tb, 1744. Sbe 
 was employed as a domestic at Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in tbe family of 
 General William Irvine. Sbe was married to Jobn Hays, a barber, July 
 tbe 24tb, 1769. He enlisted in Proctor's First Pennsylvania Artillery, 
 and was followed by bis wife. 
 
 No account of tbe battle of Monmoutb is complete witbout tbis story 
 of Molly Pitcber. Some years ago tbe people of New Jersey built a 
 monument on tbe field wbere tbe battle was fougbt. On tbis monument 
 
 45 
 
46 MOLLY PITCHER. 
 
 several scenes are pictured in what we call bronze reliefs. Tlie pictures 
 are such as you might draw with your pencil on paper, only they are in 
 bronze and so do not fade or wear out. The fact that Molly is remem- 
 bered on this monument shows that she did something worthy of honor. 
 
 As the story goes she was a powerful woman dressed in the skirts of 
 her own sex, the coat of an artilleryman, cocked hat and feather. 
 
 She must have looked very gay, said James, and what a strange thing 
 for a woman to take the place of a soldier and go into battle. 
 
 BATTERIES FIRING FURIOUSLY. 
 
 Yes, said Uncle Frank, that is the strange thing about it. The 
 battle of Monmouth was fought June 28, 1778. General Washington 
 was the commander on the American side, and General Clinton on the 
 other. Before the real battle commenced one American battery and 
 another English, that were not very far from each other, began a hot fire. 
 Molly's husband was connected with the American battery and was help- 
 ing to serve the guns. The day was very warm and he and the other 
 artillerymen suifered very much from thirst. Molly was not far away 
 watching the fight. She saw that the men were thirsty, and, obtaining 
 a bucket, she began to bring water for them from a neighboring spring. 
 
 While thus engaged she saw her husband" fall. She ran to his aid, 
 but he was dead when she reached him. Just then poor Molly heard the 
 officer order the gun removed, because, as he said, he could not fill the 
 post with so brave a man as he had lost. Molly's patriotism got the 
 better of her fear, and, facing the officer, she asked to be allowed to take 
 her husband's place. Her request was granted, and she handled the gun 
 with such skill and courage that all who saw her were filled with admiration. 
 
 She was a very brave woman, said Mable. What do you think you 
 would have done, Blsie, if you had been there ? 
 
 I doubt, said Elsie, if I would have had such courage as Molly had, 
 but I presume that if James were to have such a chance to show his bravery 
 he would step right up and help man the guns. 
 
 Indeed, I would, said James, straightening himself up to his full 
 height, and looking as much like a soldier as any boy could. 
 
 I was going to tell yoii, said Uncle Frank, that the attention of General 
 Washington was called to Molly's brave act, and it has been said that he 
 gave her the rank of sergeant, and she was granted half-pay during life. 
 She was known afterward as Captain Molly. Her story is certainly a 
 
MOLI/Y PITCHER. 47 
 
 very thrilling one, and such as we seldom read in history. Men, you 
 know, are expected to do the fighting and women to do the nursing. 
 
 Although I have told you Molly's story, I will read to you an account 
 of her bravery that I happen to have here. It is much the same as what 
 I have narrated, but may bring out some points I omitted : 
 
 The particular incident of the Battle of Monmouth, in which Molly 
 made such a name for herself, may be described as follows : the enemy 
 having attacked Livingstone's and Varnum's brigade, which lined a hedge* 
 row across an open field, some American artillery took post on a knoll 
 in the rear of this fence, but the British cavalry and a large body of in- 
 fantry, skilled in the use of the bayonet, charging upon the Americans, 
 broke their ranks. It was during this part of the action that Molly dis- 
 played great courage and presence of mind^ 
 
 MOLLY'S HUSBAND KILLED AT HIS POST. 
 
 While her husband was managing one of the field pieces, she con- 
 stantly brought him water from a spring near by. A shot from the enemy 
 killed him at his post, and the officer in command, having no man able to 
 fill his place, ordered the piece to be withdrawn. Molly saw her husband 
 fall as she came from the spring, and also heard the order. She dropped 
 her bucket, seized the rammer, and vowed that she would fill the place of 
 her husband at the gun and avenge his death. 
 
 She performed the duty with a skill and courage which attracted the 
 attention of all who saw her. On the following morning, covered with 
 dirt and blood, General Greene presented her to Washington, who, admir- 
 ing her bravery, conferred upon her the commission of Sergeant. The 
 French officers, charmed by the story of her bravery, made her many 
 presents. She would sometimes pass along the French lines with her 
 cocked hat, and get it almost filled with crowns. 
 
 Some years after the thrilling incident at Monmouth she married 
 George McKolly, another soldier ; this name was also written McCauley, 
 and so appears on Molly's tombstone. She lived for many years at the 
 Carlisle Barracks after the Revolution,^ cooking and washing for the 
 soldiers. Subsequently she kept a small store in Carlisle. 
 
 Bold Molly of Monmouth's home was for years one of the show 
 places of Carlisle, and it really seems a pity that the time has at last came 
 when this relic of one of the most famous characters of the Revolutionary 
 period had to be torn down. In the cemetery left to the city by William 
 
48 
 
 GENERAL ISRAEIy PUTNAM. 
 
 Penn, Molly's Pitcher's monument is to be seen among the graves of the 
 old inhabitants, bearing the following inscription : 
 
 MOLLIB McCAULEY, 
 
 Renowned in history as 
 
 " MoLLiE Pitcher," 
 
 THE heroine of MoNMOUTH. 
 
 Died January 22, 1823, 
 
 Aged seventy-nine years. 
 
 Erected by the citizens of Cumberland County, 
 
 July the Fourth, 1876. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Why did women go with the armies in the war of the Revolution ? 
 What was Molly Pitcher's maiden name ? When was she born ? Whom 
 did she marry, and to Avhat branch of General Washington's army did she 
 belong ? Give an account of the battle of Monmouth and what Molly did 
 when her husband fell. What did Washington think of her act ? Who 
 was Molly's second husband ? What about the inscription on her tomb- 
 stone ? 
 
 GENEEAL ISKAEL PUTNAM 
 
 AI^TD HIS FAMOUS EXPLOITS. 
 
 <'^^jr^^'^^ TEPPING into the summer house. Uncle Frank .00k 
 
 his seat in his arm-chair, put down his walking stick 
 and said, I have something very interesting to tell 3''ou 
 to-day. 
 
 James was already there waiting for the story to 
 begin, and very soon there were two additions to the 
 compan3^ These were Elsie and Mabel. The young 
 folks M'ere alwaj^s interested in Uncle Frank's stories; 
 there was much to be learned from them, w^hile, at the 
 
 same time, they afforded pleasant entertainment. I will tell you to-da}'-, 
 
 said Uncle Frank, about General Israel Putnam. 
 
 They used to call him " Old Put,'' said Uncle Frank, but this was 
 
 only a nickname and was not on account of any disrespect for him. He 
 
 \ 
 
GENERAIv ISRAEIy PUTNAM. 
 
 49 
 
 was born a good wliile ago in Danvers, Massaclinsetts. The date of Ins 
 birth was Jannary 7th, 1718. This, yon remember, was before the Amer- 
 ican Revolution, in which our country gained its independence. Very few 
 men made so many sacrifices or fought so gallantly in that great struggle 
 as did General Putnam. 
 
 Before telling you about this, we must follow him to his new home 
 near Pomfret in Connecticut, where he bought a farm and settled in 1739, 
 when but twenty-one years of age. Of course, all that part of the country 
 was new at this time, and the forests were frequented by wild beasts, such 
 as bears, wolves, and pan- 
 thers. It so happened that 
 there was an old she-wolf 
 that gave great trouble to 
 the settlers, and although 
 this wolf had been seen at 
 different times by a num- 
 ber of persons, nobody had 
 succeededin capturing her- 
 Young Putnam determined 
 that he would try and put 
 an end to^ the pranks of 
 Mrs. Wolf, and so he gath- 
 ered several young men, 
 quite as bold and fearless 
 as himself, and they started 
 out to make the capture. 
 
 They found the cavern general israet. putnam. 
 
 where the wolf made her home, but the opening at tlie entrance was so 
 small that only one person could crawl in. It was a perilous undertaking 
 for any one to enter the cave, but young Putnam resolved to take the risk. 
 He had ropes tied to his feet by which he was to be pulled out by his com- 
 rades when he gave the signal. Into the cavern he went with a lighted 
 torch in one hand and his gun in the other. For a few minutes he saw 
 nothing, for the wolf was in the farther end of the cavern. Not knowing 
 but he would be pounced upon at any moment, Israel held up his torch 
 and peered into the darkness. 
 
 Finally at the farther end of the cave he saw two bright eyes glaring 
 at him. It was a question whether he would capture the wolf or the wolf 
 
50 GENERAL ISRAEI. PUTNAM. 
 
 would make an onslauglit on him. Instantly he leveled his gun and, 
 being a good shot, laid the wolf sprawling on the floor of the cave. His 
 companions, hearing the discharge of his gun, immediately pulled him 
 out of the cave. The story of young Putnam's bold exploit was told far 
 and near. 
 
 As might be expected, a young man whose personal courage was so 
 great would not hesitate to join an army going forth for the defense of his 
 country. In 1755 he obtained a commission as a captain in a regiment of 
 1,000 men, which Connecticut sent to repel a threatened French invasion 
 of New York, and was present at the battle of Lake George. His patri- 
 otic spirit animated his troops, who looked upon him as a brave and able 
 commander, and were ready to follow wherever he should lead the way. 
 
 BATTLES BETWEEN INDIANS AND WHITE SETTLERS. 
 
 Our country at this time was inhabited by savage tribes, and many 
 were the wars and skirmishes they had with the white settlers. The 
 French and Indian War, which broke out in 1754, was one of the thrilling 
 periods of our country's history, and in this war young Putnam distin- 
 guished himself He did this not merely at the Battle of Lake George, 
 but elsewhere. In 1758 he was captured by the savages, tortured, and 
 then bound to a tree and was about to be burned to death. 
 
 The Indians had him completely in their power and had already 
 decided his doom. It was useless to plead with them ; they were blood- 
 thirsty and meant to take his life. It looked as if Putnam were about to 
 die by the most cruel death that can be inflicted upon a human being. 
 He was tied to a tree, dry wood was piled around him and lighted. The 
 flames were already beginning to scorch him when a French officer who 
 had just arrived on the ground rushed forward, and scattering the fire- 
 brands with his sword, rescued the victim. 
 
 That was a very narrow escape, wasn't it? said James. 
 
 Yes, in a few minutes more his life would have been burned out of 
 him, but this humane French officer was not willing to see even an enemy 
 burned at the stake and boldly saved Putnam's life. 
 
 In 1759 he was given command of a regiment, and in 1764 he helped 
 to relieve Detroit, then besieged by Pontiac the Indian chief. 
 
 After this Putnam led a quiet life at home for ten years, during which 
 time he made his farmhouse into an inn and became very prominent 
 among a society called the Sons of Liberty, the object of which was to fur- 
 
GENERAL ISRAEI. PUTNAM. 
 
 51 
 
 ther the cause of American Independence. In 1775, after the battle of 
 Concord, he was given the command of the forces of Connecticut. He was 
 at work in the field when he heard that he was wanted to resist the British 
 invasion ; he left his plow standing and hurried to join the army. At the 
 battle of Bunker Hill, which was one of the first battles of the Revolution 
 and was fought just across the bay from Boston, he was the highest officer 
 in command, although he offered that position to General Warren. 
 
 BATILE 01 I3LNKER HII,!,. 
 
 He was next appointed by Congress a Major-General, and held com- 
 mand of the troops at New York, and in August, 1776, at Brooklyn 
 Heights, where he was defeated by the British General Howe. This did 
 not discourage him, but he went right on as if nothing had happened, 
 feeling sure that success would come later. 
 
 He afterwards held various commands, and in 1777 was appointed 
 to the defense of the Highlands of the Hudson. While at Peekskill a 
 
52 
 
 GENERAL ISRAEI. PUTNAM. 
 
 lieutenant in a BritisH regiment was captured as a spy and condemned to 
 death. Sir Henry Clinton, a Britisli commanding officer, sent a flag of 
 truce to Putnam threatening vengeance if the sentence was carried out. 
 Putnam wrote a brief reply that Sir Henry could understand without 
 much trouble. I have it here and will read it : 
 
 " Headquarters, 7th August, 1777. Edmund Palmer, an officer in 
 the enemy's service, was taken as a sp}^ lurking within our lines ; he has 
 been tried as a spy, condemned as a spy, and shall be executed as a spy, 
 
 and the flag is 
 ordered to de- 
 part immedi- 
 ately. Israel 
 Putnam. P.S. 
 He has accord- 
 ingly been ex- 
 ecuted." 
 
 In 1778 
 Putnam made 
 his famous es- 
 cape from Gov- 
 ernor Tryon's 
 dragoon's in 
 Western Con- 
 necticut by 
 riding down 
 the stone steps 
 
 BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. at a place call- 
 
 ed Horseneck. You may have seen the picture of him riding down this 
 steep place. Here he was as fortunate as usual, and escaped with his life. 
 He died May 19th, 1790, having served his country nobly. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Do you remember where and when Putnam was born? To what 
 place did he move in early life ? What dangerous exploit did he perform 
 and how did he escape from the cavern ? At what battle was he present 
 with the Connecticut regiment? In what way did he come near losing 
 his life, and who saved him ? What part did he perform in the Revolu- 
 tionary War ? What was his last exploit when pursued by dragoons ? 
 
HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 AM going to tell you about a boy, said Uncle Frank, 
 as lie noticed the young folks seated to bear bis next 
 story. Boys, you know, can do wonders, sometimes, 
 as well as men and women. 
 
 That's right, said James, I like to hear about 
 boys. 
 
 So do I, said Mabel, if they are not hateful boys, 
 and are polite and gentlemanly. 
 
 I see no reason, said Uncle Frank, why boys and 
 girls should not treat one another politely and be on good terms. But I 
 must tell you the story. 
 
 Sammy Belnap was a strong young boy of nine when the soldiers of 
 the Revolutionary Army came to the township of Redding, Connecticut, 
 for the winter of 1778. " Old Put,'' as every one called the great fighter. 
 General Israel Putnam, had been keeping the tavern over in Brooklyn 
 before the war broke out, but when he came to the " Nutmeg " State, as a 
 hardy pioneer, he had settled at Pomfret, and his farm had adjoined that 
 of Sammy's grandfather, who had come from Danvers, Massachusetts, 
 with him. 
 
 The famous General was very fond of boys — boys who w ere b rave 
 and full of life. He had not forgotten that he was once one himself, and 
 we have seen how brave he was when a young man. Sammy was just 
 the kind of boy that the old General would like. He was full of life, and, 
 alas, full of mischief So, when the General was riding through the little 
 village of Redding one afternoon soon after the three camps of the Conti- 
 nental soldiers had been established, he saw Sammy and inquired if there 
 was not a son of Uriah Belnap living in the village. The General was 
 taking the first few moments of his leasure in looking up his old friends. 
 ^ Sammy never forgot the expression of his great rosy face and smiling 
 eyes when he answered : 
 
 " Why, yes, sir ; he was . my grandfather, and Samuel Belnap, who 
 lives over yonder, is my father." He was almost breathless, for he knew 
 
 53 
 
54 HOW SAMMY HEIvPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 the man on horseback, and lie had heard a great deal about his bravery 
 in the midst of these trying days. But he was reassured at once, for the 
 great big General came down from his horse, and, sitting on the curb, 
 took him in his arms, and began to tell him about his grandfather. 
 
 " I might have known you were Uri Belnap's grandson, if I had 
 looked twice," he said, " for you are for all the world just like him, and, 
 I'll wager, he was just like you at your age! Those are your grand- 
 father's eyes, and I can see his nose and his mouth in you, and do you 
 know, my son, I could sit here all the afternoon and tell you about your 
 grandfather ? He settled on the farm next mine, over yonder in Pomfret. 
 What would I not give for one hour of those old days ! And did he ever 
 tell you about the wolf we hunted for so long ? " 
 
 SAMMY LEADS GENERAL PUTNAM'S HORSE. 
 
 Sammy's eyes lighted up with pleasure at this. He had hardly 
 known how to receive the attention of his distinguished visitor, for he had 
 heard much to make him fear him ; but he was entirely won over now. 
 He had heard of that famous wolf hunt many times from his grandfather, 
 who had died in the Revolutionary cause, when he had gone with General 
 Putnam to Bunker Hill, and had spilled his blood in that encounter with 
 the British. 
 
 " But you must take me to your father, for I want to tell him how 
 well your grandfather fought that day in Charlestown ; General Wash- 
 ington has let me take my army near my old home for the winter, and it 
 will be the first time since the day of that battle I have had to tell Uriah 
 Belnap's son how his father fell in the foremost ranks, as fearless and 
 brave as man should be in these days — for these are trying times, my 
 son._ Come, lead my horse up to your home." 
 
 The General sprang into the saddle, and Sammy proudly led his 
 guest to the house. When he had grown to manhood he was always 
 delighted to tell of that episode in his life, and to another to which we 
 shall soon allude. 
 
 General Israel Putnam had three companies in the township of Red- 
 ding that winter, and he was soon to take up his own quarters on Um- 
 pawaug Hill. Historians are sometimes wont to attribute to him acts 
 which seem brutal in these days ; but we should remember the times in 
 which he lived and the dangers of war, which tried him and other men 
 most sorely. The traditions which are alive to-day in his old home at 
 
HOW SAMMY HEI.PED GENERAI. PUTNAM. 55 
 
 Brooklyn, and in the surrounding towns, give us a picture of a kindly, 
 gruff, hearty old man, who loved his friends and his friends' children, 
 and after the war the most popular landlord in the Nutmeg State. 
 
 And this is the man Sammy Belnap saw for the first time when he 
 was nine years old — the man he learned to worship as all small, genuine 
 boys worship heroes, for whom they would sacrifice their lives, if need be. 
 
 The Continental Army in General Putnam's charge contained many 
 discontented and discouraged men that winter. They were poorly clothed 
 and poorly fed, and the Connecticut Legislature had not paid them their 
 wages for many months. If you should chance to go to Redding to-day 
 you will see the places where these Revolutionary camps stood. The 
 sites of the log cabins are clearly defined by heaps of stones, which are 
 the remains of the chimneys built on the outside. Their preservation has 
 been due in a great degree to a forest, which grew over the spot where so 
 many dramatic scenes took place more than a century ago. The forest 
 has now been cleared, and the State of Connecticut has preserved the 
 place in a park named for General Putnam. 
 
 RIDES ON HORSEBACK WITH THE GENERAL. 
 
 Our little hero of Revolutionary days became greatly interested in 
 the camps, and the General became so fond of him that he at times would 
 raise him in his saddle and make the round of the soldiers' quarters. 
 
 " I am going to make you a good soldier like your grandfather," he 
 used to say, " and I want you to learn all about my army, so that you 
 may be a general, too, some day. We little know when this war may 
 end, my boy, in these days of shadow, and if our time does not see the 
 victory of liberty, we will train all little boys, so that when they are men 
 they will be able to whip the British." 
 
 Sammy's love for the General grew daily. He heard of the men who 
 deserted to the camp of the British, and his little face burned with indig- 
 nation to see the men who once fought for independence turning in their 
 selfishness to what they thought would be the winning side. Often he 
 would climb the rocky cliff, which rises to-day, as it did then, high above 
 the camp, and watch the soldiers off parade walking about the barracks 
 and grounds, standing in groups, in their tattered and mud-stained uni- 
 forms. How his little heart burned in eagerness to do something for the 
 cause of freedom ! He little dreamed that fate had destined him to be of 
 great service to the good old General. 
 
56 HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAL PUTNAM. 
 
 When spring came and the fresh green was everywhere and the birds 
 began singing, there were not a few of the men who longed to be away 
 from the scenes of war, and dreaded to face the hard fighting before them. 
 It was a frequent practice of these men to go to the camp of the enemy, 
 where they were cordially received, and given good food and certain other 
 things which they ought not to have had. As the camps of General Put- 
 nam were soon to be broken, the deserter was especially Avelcome, as he 
 might furnish valuable information as to the future movements of the army. 
 
 " Old Put " Avas particularly tried by these deserters, and kept a 
 sharp outlook for them. When captured they generally found their fate 
 sealed by a brief court martial, whose verdict was either that they be shot 
 or hanged. Sammy listened one evening to the account of a man who had 
 sneaked away from camp a few days before and was believed to be skulk- 
 ing about the place ; the General further suspected that he was in com- 
 munication with the Tories, and feared that the movement he had planned 
 for the next week would in this manner be known to the enemy. 
 
 SAMMY THOUGHT HE KNEW THE MEN. 
 
 Sammy listened with wide-open eyes, and that night he lay awake a 
 long time thinking. His visits to the camp had been useful to him, for 
 he knew many soldiers by name, and there were more whose faces he 
 recalled. Now he was quite sure he had seen the man in question the 
 day before, while he was gathering the spring flowers in a thicket of pines 
 about 200 rods from the cliff below which was the camp. He had been 
 engaged in earnest conversation with another person, whose face Sammy 
 had not seen. In a few minutes after Sammy appeared the pair separated, 
 but neither returned to the camp. 
 
 Sammy thought this all over carefully, and went over it again and 
 again, making certain plans which he intended to put into operation 
 very soon. 
 
 It happened that there was a cave near the top of the cliif, which ex- 
 tended into the interior for several feet. There were a great man}'- dr}'- 
 leaves on the bottom, and Sammy often went during the hot afternoons 
 and sat and dreamed of being a soldier. The cave itself had a history, 
 and was named after King Philip, because there is a tradition that the 
 Indian King Philip had used it as a hiding place when closely pursued. 
 If you should go there to-day you will find it just as has been described. 
 The next day when the army was on the parade ground drilling, under the 
 
HOW SAMMY HELPED GENERAIv PUTNAM. 57 
 
 severe gaze of General Putnam, Sammy denied liimself one of tlie greatest 
 pleasures of liis life, and liid liimself in the cave. Here lie could dimly 
 hear the sound of the tramping feet, but he was within hearing of other 
 sounds which finally came to his expectant ears. 
 
 He heard what appeared to be two men engaged in earnest conversa- 
 tion. Sammy listened closely until at last he could distinguish words. 
 He listened for fully ten minutes, and, then, as silently as a field mouse, 
 he left his perch in the cave on the cliff and slowly descended. All the 
 time he could hear the voices of the men, but as he was below the top of 
 the cliff he was, of course, not seen. 
 
 When he reached the bottom he crawled carefully along, beneath the 
 underbrush. How his heart beat, and how much he longed to run I But 
 he was too wise to do so for fear he would attract the notice of the men. 
 So he moved slowly, until he was hidden by a thick growth of pines. 
 Then he rose to his feet, and ran with all the speed his little legs were 
 equal to. 
 
 All this had taken ten minutes of precious time, although it takes 
 hardly one to tell it, and Sammy was afraid he would be too late. He ran 
 up to the General as fast as he could, stopped a moment and raised his arm 
 in salute just like a real soldier, then clambered up into the saddle, and 
 with his hands drew down the General's head and whispered in his ear. 
 
 THEN CAME THE SOUND OF A MUSKET. 
 
 The General quickly wheeled his horse and rode toward an officer. 
 To Sammy's great delight, a small squad of soldiers soon moved in the 
 direction of the cliff. How long the minutes seemed after that I Every 
 one was an hour to Sammy, and there were thirty of them before anything 
 happened. Then the report of a musket sounded in the distance, followed 
 by two more. All was silence for awhile, and the General sat eagerly 
 watching the cliff with Sammy in the saddle. 
 
 When the men appeared two of them bore a wounded man between 
 them, while the others led a prisoner. Then the soldiers cheered and 
 jeered. The two men had been surprised, for their pursuers had gone so 
 silently that they were not heard until they had almost come upon them. 
 -Then one started to run and had been shot twice in the leg. The latter 
 was a British spy and the other the deserter. The old General was 
 ,Q:reatly delighted. He raised Sammy to his feet on the saddle, and the 
 soldiers raised their arms in salute, and then cheered the little hero. 
 
58 
 
 GKNERAlv GRANT. 
 
 It was tlie proudest moment of Sammy's life I That evening, as lie 
 sat with the General and his father around the great fireplace, " Old Put" 
 took him on his knee and said : '' Your grandfather is proud of you to- 
 night, my son, and hereafter I shall call you one ofmy soldiers 1" 
 
 QUESTIONSr 
 
 Who was Sammy's grandfather ? In what battle did he lose his life ? 
 What did General Putnam tell a little boy about the courage of his grand- 
 father? Where was General Putnam's army spending the winter? 
 Were the soldiers on both the American and the British sides in the habit 
 of deserting ? What did Sammy discover one day when he was visiting 
 the camp? When he found that two deserters were talking together, 
 what did he do ? Did these two men escape or were they captured ? 
 
 ^\ 
 
 GEN^ERAL GRANT 
 
 THE HERO OF THE OIYIL WAR. 
 
 HAT shall I tell you about to-day? said Uncle Frank. 
 I would like to hear about General Grant, said 
 James. And I would too, said Elsie. 
 
 Ever3^body must honor General Grant, said Uncle 
 Frank, for his great services to his country. He was 
 a plain man, quite unknown when the war broke out, 
 but he had afterward a very brilliant career. 
 
 When any man is wanted, said Mabel, to do any- 
 thing, doesn't it always happen that the man comes ? 
 It would seem so, said Uncle Frank, and General Grant's history helps 
 to prove it. His people away back were Scotch, but had been in this country 
 a great many years when Grant Avas born. This occurred at Point Pleas- 
 ant, Clermont County, Ohio, April 27, 1S22. His father's name was 
 Jesse and his mother's maiden name w^as Hannah Simpson, and he was 
 the eldest of six children. He helped his father on the farm in the 
 summer and went to the village school during the winter. 
 
 In the spring of 1839 he was sent to the Military Acadeni}^ at West 
 Point. 
 
GENERAIv GRANT. 
 
 69 
 
 Wliat is a Military Academy, Uncle Krauk ? said James. 
 
 It is a military school, was Uncle Frank's reply — a school where 
 young men are taught how to manage an army in case of war. Young 
 Grant graduated in 1843, was made second lieutenant and sent away to 
 do duty in Missouri. In 1844 he went with his regiment to Louisiana, 
 and in 1845 "^^ ^^^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ army of General Taylor. This was dur- 
 
 A 
 
 POINT PLEASANT, OHIO, THE BIRTHPLACE OF GENERAL GRANT. 
 
 ing the Mexican War — a war that we had with Mexico, as a result of 
 which our country acquired Texas. Grant was at several battles under 
 General Taylor — one of them being the battle of Monterey. Here he 
 performed a very gallant exploit. Several times during the battle he 
 showed very superior judgment, but his particular act of bravery was 
 riding on horseback through a dangerous fire in search of ammunition for 
 the regiment with which he was connected, and which, during the battle, 
 had run short of it. He rode a spirited horse at great speed while shot 
 
60 
 
 GENERAL GRANT. 
 
 aud shell were falling all around him. Thus, you see, he showed even 
 
 then that he was very brave. 
 
 In 1848 he obtained leave of absence, and in August of that year was 
 
 married to Julia R. Dent, of St. Louis. Their children were three sons 
 
 and one daughter. 
 Lieutenant Grant 
 served at various 
 posts, and was made 
 Captain in 1853 ; in 
 the following year 
 resigned his commis- 
 sion and settled on a 
 farm near St. Louis. 
 When the Civil 
 War began in April, 
 1 86 1, Grant was re- 
 siding in Galena, Il- 
 linois. He at once 
 offered his services 
 to the Government, 
 and in June was ap- 
 pointed Colonel of 
 the 2ist Regiment of 
 Illinois Infantry, 
 with which he was 
 sent to Missouri. In 
 August he was ad- 
 vanced toabngadier- 
 general of volunteers 
 and given command 
 of a district, and in 
 November he fought 
 the battle of Belmont. 
 GRANT'S BOYHOOD DAYS IN OHio. Ill February, 1S62, 
 
 he captured Fort Henry, and ten days later Fort Donelson, with 14,326 
 prisoners, for which victory he was made major-general of volunteers. 
 
 In April Grant fought a two-days' battle at Shiloh, amongst the 
 severest of the war, in which General A. S. Johnston, commanding the 
 
GENERAL GRANT. 
 
 61 
 
 Confederate army, was killed. After various luisuccessful movements 
 against Vicksburg lasting several months, Grant crossed the Mississippi 
 in April, 1863, defeated the enemy at Port Gibson and at Champion Hill, 
 and drove them behind their intrenchments at Vicksburg, to which place 
 he laid siege. After many assaults the stronghold surrendered on July 
 4, 1863, with 31,600 prisoners and 172 cannon, and the Mississippi was 
 opened from its source to its mouth. 
 
 In October Grant was ordered to Chattanooga, where he fought a 
 
 LIEUTENANT GRANT GOING FOR AMMUNITION AT MONTEREY. 
 
 battle, capturing the enemy's entire line, and driving him out of Tennes- 
 see. In March, 1864, Grant having previously been made a major-general 
 in the regular army for his victory at Vicksburg, was promoted to the 
 grade of lieutenfint-general, and assigned to the command of all the armies 
 of the United States, his headquarters being with the army of the Potomac. 
 Plis plan of campaign was to gather all the national forces into several 
 separate armies, which should march at once against the enemy. General 
 Sherman, one of our country's greatest commanders, moved toward At- 
 lanta, Ga., while Grant himself led the army of the Potomac against 
 Richmond. 
 
6^ 
 
 GENERAL GRANT. 
 
 During tlie niglit of May 4 lie crossed tlie Rapidan, met General 
 R. E. Lee, commanding the Confederates in tlie Wilderness, and fought 
 a desperate three days' battle, one of the fiercest of modern times. Grant 
 moved forward on the 7th, and fought again at Spottsylvania Court-house 
 on the loth, and still again on the 12th, on which occasion he captured 
 an entire division of the Confederate army. The smoke of battle hung 
 over the mighty hosts for six days, while the North remained in a state 
 of suspense bordering on agony; but on the nth Grant wrote to Wash- 
 ington,"^! propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." 
 "~ So he kept on fighting, pushing ahead and daily getting nearer to 
 Richmond, until after long and persevering effort he drove the army 
 
 within the defen- 
 ces of that city. 
 Meanwhile his 
 great lieutenants, 
 Sherman, Sheri- 
 dan and Thomas, 
 were reaping a 
 harvest of laurels 
 by winning suc- 
 cessive battles. 
 
 Late in March, 
 1865, there began 
 a week's hard 
 fighting at the 
 close of which Lee 
 
 GRANT WRITING DESPATCHES BEFORE CROSSING THE RAPIDAN. g^j-j-endered his 
 
 whole army at Appomattox Court-house on April 9th, receiving from his 
 victor most generous terms. The fall of Richmond ended the war, and 
 Grant went back to Washington to muster out of service nearly a million 
 of troops that the country no longer required. 
 
 As many as that? said James. Wasn't that a great number of 
 soldiers ? 
 
 The world has hardly ever seen a larger army, said Uncle Frank. 
 It was a terrible war, brothers fighting against brothers, good Americans 
 on both sides trying to take the lives of one another. Grant was a great 
 general. He makes me think of what the old colored man said was his 
 idea of perseverance. " It's to take hold, hang on, and not let go." 
 
GENERAIy GRANT. 
 
 63 
 
 Grant was just that kind of man. He never would give up until he had 
 gained his object. And, children, I want you to remember that a large 
 part of success in life consists in sticking; never backing out, never 
 giving up, but, when you are sure you are right, just goin^ ahead with 
 all your might. 
 
 Other generals may have been as skillful as Grant, but they did not 
 know how to take hold, hang on, and not let go. His victories in the 
 war of course made him very famous, and so it is not surprising that his 
 party should nominate him for 
 the Presidency. This occurred 
 in May, 1868, and he was elected 
 the following November by a very 
 large majority. After he had 
 been President for four years and 
 had shown himself to be wise and 
 skillful in managing the coun- 
 try's affairs, he was elected the 
 second time, so that he filled the 
 office of Chief Magistrate for 
 eight years. Indeed it happened | 
 afterwards that in one of 
 national conventions over 300 of 
 the delegates wanted Grant to be 
 
 nominated for a third term, and 
 they stuck to him until the con- 
 vention closed. However, he did 
 not get the nomination. 
 
 After retiring from the 
 Presidency, General Grant went abroad and was gone for two years. He 
 nade a tour around the world. All the principal nations of the earth 
 received him with great honor, and he was one of the most celebrated men 
 of his time. When he got back he went to New York to live during the 
 winters, while his summers were spent at his Long Branch cottage. 
 
 Finding himself unable, with his income, to properly maintain his 
 family, he became a partner in a banking house, in which one of his sons 
 and others were interested, bearing the name of Grant & Ward, and put 
 all the money he could spare in the business. He took no part himself 
 in the affairs of the company, which were left almost entirely in the hands 
 
 our \ 
 
64 
 
 GENERAIv GRANT. 
 
 of the youug men. Suddenly the house suspended, and it was discovered 
 that through the infamy of one of the partners the General had been 
 robbed of all he possessed. Up to this time he had refused to write any his- 
 tory of his life, but finding himself bankrupt he began to write the story of 
 his life, trying thereby to make provision for the wants of his family. 
 
 In the 
 summer of 
 1884 he 
 complain- 
 ed of a sore- 
 ness in his 
 throat, and 
 finally it 
 was decided 
 that he had 
 a cancer at 
 the root of 
 his tongue. 
 The sym- 
 pathies of 
 the nation 
 were now 
 excited and 
 Congress 
 passed a 
 bill creat- 
 ing him a 
 General on 
 the retired 
 list, thus 
 restoring 
 him to his 
 rank in the 
 arni}^, the 
 
 GSNERAI. GRANT MEETING THE EMPEROR OF JAPAN. 
 
 position he had resigned to accept the Presidency of the United States, 
 
 It may be doubted if, since the world began, any other book has been 
 written under similar circumstances; the dying soldier, suffering con- 
 stant, and, at times, the greatest agony, yet working away as if in perfect 
 
MAJOR-GENERAL H. W LAWTQN 
 
lEUTENANT DEWEY SAVING THE LIFE OF A COMRADE 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY GESSFORD 4 VAN BR' 
 
 PROF. CHARLES E. TRIPLER 
 
 HE IS TO LIQUID AIR WHAT EDISON IS TO ELECTRICITY. THIS NEW AND GREAT DISCOVERY is 
 DESTINED TO REVOLUTIONIZE EVERYTHING PERTAINING TO THE SUPPLY OF MOTIVE POWER 
 FOR TRANSPORTATION, MACHINERY, REFRIGERATION, MANUFACTURE OF POWERFUL F.XPLOS- 
 IVES, Etc, THE ABOVE ILLUSTRATION SHOWS A HAMMER OF FROZFN MERCURY. 
 
 -» •-.■ , , . 
 
SCENE ON BOARD A SCHOOLSHIP-CADETS CHEERING 
 •HE LIFE-BOAT 
 
GENERAL LAWTON. 
 
 65 
 
 healtli. He struggled on from day to day, and finished liis book only 
 four days before bis death, which occurred near Saratoga, N. Y., July 
 23d, 1885. His remains were interred on August 8th, with great pomp, 
 in Riverside Park, New York City, overlooking the Hudson, and there a 
 monument, costing a vast sum of money, has been built to his memory. 
 Many Lives of Grant have been written, the most valuable of which 
 is the one he wrote himself, which netted his family half a million dollars. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where and when was Grant born ? What was his father's Christian 
 name and his mother's maiden name ? Where was he educated ? Where 
 did he begin his service in the army ? In what war was he first engaged ? 
 How did he distinguish himself at the battle of Monterey ? Whom did 
 he marry ? What was his first battle in the Civil War ? What forts did 
 he capture ? What great stronghold did he take on the Mississippi ? 
 What other battles did he fight ? When was he made Commander-in-chief 
 of the armies of the United States ? Give an account of his battles before 
 Richmond, and the surrender of General Lee. How many times was he 
 President ? How did he lose his money ? What about the book he wrote ? 
 
 ^\ 
 
 GENEKAL LAWTON 
 
 THE HEEO OF THE PHILIPPH^ES. 
 
 VBRYBODY likes a hero, said Uncle Frank, as he 
 seated himself and motioned the young folks to his 
 side. What is a hero, Mabel ? 
 
 A man who does some brave deed, said Mabel, 
 That's right, said Uncle Frank, and General 
 Lawton was such a man. I think you will be inter- 
 ested in what I have to tell you about him. 
 
 All the story-tellers go back to that first great 
 work of his which brought him into national fame. 
 
 This was his chasing and capturing the outlaw Apache chief, Gero- 
 nimo. General Miles said no one in the East that has not been in the 
 far West can realize what tramping for 1600 miles in that region means. 
 And General Lawton tramped for 1600 miles ! 
 6 
 
66 GENERAL LAWlTON. 
 
 General Miles gave him one order. He said, " Keep Geronimo 
 moving. Don't give him time to murder people." This was quite 
 enough for young Lieutenant Lawton. He was never known to disobey 
 an order, to ask for it to be made easier, or to give an excuse if he didn't 
 csrry it out. So he kept the Indian chief moving. He tracked him over 
 mountains and through ravines so dark that he and his little company 
 had to grope with their hands. He went without food, was barefoot and 
 was ill, but he never stopped. 
 
 FORCED MARCHES UNDER GREAT DIFFICULTIES. 
 
 He changed his men as Napoleon changed his horses, from one 
 station to another, but he himself never faltered. Some of the days he 
 was ill and had to be carried in a wagon, but he never let them slaken 
 their speed for his headaches. With the fever on him he would get up 
 and make forced marches that would have been almost impossible to a 
 well man. After weeks of this dramatic and tremendous hunt, the 
 Apache was cornered. He was as gaunt and hungry as the man who had 
 followed him. He was not used to being so pursued by any American. 
 There was not a day when he had been able to stop and rob a town or 
 murder a family. He felt always the never-ceasing, regular march of the 
 young lieutenant behind him. 
 
 Think of going through 1600 miles of the Western bad lands in such 
 a fashion I The man who could do that could do anything, was the ver- 
 dict of the army. His judgment in handling the Indians after he had 
 compelled Geronimo to surrender to General Miles was as excellent as 
 his ability to fight. He was in charge of them from Albuquerque to Fort 
 Marion, in Florida. He had wonderful control over them, and they both 
 feared and respected him, a respect that no other white man inspired. 
 
 " I never saw a man who had such remarkable power over other men 
 — and especially his inferiors — as Lawton," said one army officer who had 
 been with him through the Apache campaign. " Many of us used to 
 wonder what he did and try, if possible, to do likewise. But the ma^ had 
 a genius not to be imitated for commanding other men. ? 
 
 "I remember when he was regimental commissary; that is, a man 
 who provides food for the soldiers, which in those days of Indian fighting 
 was the hardest position to fill in the army, that he said to a teamster 
 who was carrying supplies to the troops across the plains : ' You meet 
 me at 9 o'clock on Tuesday morning at a certain spot on the plains.' 
 
CENERAI. IvAWTON. 6T 
 
 " The teamster looked at him as if hardly comprehending that the 
 man was in earnest, but Lawton looked him squarely in the eyes and 
 repeated the order. He told the teamster he knew the march would be 
 terrific, but he could do it and he had to do it. 
 
 " There wasn't another commissary in the army who would have 
 ^ made that order and expected it to be obeyed, but on the hour appointed 
 the teamster met Lieutenant Lawton at exactly that spot on the plains. 
 '' I knew as sure as there was a heaven,' said the teamster, * that if Lieu- 
 tenant Lawton said he was going to be there, he would be there. If he 
 had been killed on the way his ghost would have been there. I would 
 have met him if I had had to get out and pull the wagon myself. Every- 
 one of us said hard things of him every foot of the way, but somehow or 
 other we kept on going.' " 
 
 Very few people in the army know that General Lawton saddled his 
 horse ever}'- day, even during the time he was major general. 
 
 ALWAYS TOOK CARE OF HIS OWN HORSE. 
 
 lie never let anyone else touch his horse. When he was in Cuba, 
 during our war with Spain, he would have the animal brought to the 
 back door of his tent where no one could see him, and would put him into 
 harness there. He did it as stealthily as if he were committing a crime. 
 He knew the dignity of his position demanded otherwise, but he simply 
 couldn't give up saddling his pet. 
 
 First he would smooth the back of the horse down as if it were a 
 child's head. He would run his hand over the hair to see that none of it 
 went the wrong way. He would fold the blanket as carefully as a maid 
 does a ball gown. Every rumple was smoothed out, every inequality 
 equalized. He would try the saddle and mould it into the blanket until 
 
 f he was satisfied as to its position. 
 
 V When he fastened the girth he would draw it in as tenderly and 
 
 strongly as a master does his bow across the violin. He could have 
 broken every rib in that horse's side with his great strength had he 
 wanted. After he had fitted the bit to its mouth he would slip away into 
 the tent and stay "there for fifteen minutes until the horse had shaken 
 itself into the fit of the harness and gotten comfortable. His orderly 
 would bring the horse around to the front door and the General would 
 walk out and get into t^^ saddle as if he had never seen the horse since 
 sunset. 
 
68 GENERAL LAWTON. 
 
 General Lawton, like many reserved men, had a great amount of 
 emotion stored up in his giant frame. He could never read or refer to an 
 act of field bravery without choking up. He never allowed himself to 
 speak of things that touched him deeply unless to very intimate friends^ 
 for this reason. The tears were as quick to his eyes as the fire of com- 
 mand. 
 
 General Breckenridge says he will never forget the day that young 
 Manly Lawton lay at the point of death. He was the General's only son. 
 All day long he walked his room, and, finally, cr3ring like a child, by the 
 General's side, said : " If that boy dies, I want to die." This love for his 
 little son was one of the great passions of his life. The boy was named 
 Manly for his mother's family, as she was a Miss Manly, of Louisville, Ky. 
 
 THE BOY WAS FEARLESS UNDER FIRE. 
 
 Mrs. Lawton, the boy and the three girls were out in Manila for some 
 time. One day the youngster was on the gunboat Petrel with his father 
 when the boat was under fire. The next day the conversation turned on 
 the horrors of warfare, when one man said : " General, you should thank 
 God you haven't a son out here in this army." 
 
 " Why do you say such a thing as that ?" demanded the General, 
 hotly. " Do you think my boy will ever stay out of the army ? Did you 
 see him under fire the other dsij ? He stood it like a man, sir ! But it's 
 what I expected of him." 
 
 While events in the Philippines in our war with the insurgents were 
 proceeding favorably for an early close of the rebellion a very sad circum- 
 stance occurred. General Lawton with a small force was advancing to 
 disperse the rebels and occupy the position held by them at San Mateo 
 some seventeen miles northeast of Manila. He was standing erect in 
 front of his men while bullets were falling thickly near to him. One of 
 his staff warned him of the danger of exposing himself, he only smiled, so 
 fearless was he. In another moment he was hit by a bullet which was 
 winged with death. 
 
 General Lawton fell as a soldier in the thick of the fight, and thus 
 his career w^as ended. This brave American officer was highly esteemed 
 by all who knew him. The services he rendered his country were great, 
 and for these he will be long held in honor. In his youth he served with 
 distinction in the Civil War. He gained fresh laurels from his Indian 
 fighting in the Southwest, where he finally defeated Geronimo's band. 
 
DANIEIy BOONE. 
 
 69 
 
 When tlie war with Spain broke out his services were again wanted and 
 he did excellent work in Cuba. 
 
 It was felt by the authorities at the war office that he would be a good 
 man to send to the Philippines. His experience, personal bravery and 
 endurance were freely exercised throughout the campaign, and near its 
 successful close he laid down his life while fighting the battles of his 
 country. The nation mourned the loss of one of its bravest defenders. 
 
 The people of the United States contributed one hundred thousand 
 dollars to provide a permanent home for his widow and her children. 
 
 What a lovely thing that was to do, said Mabel. 
 
 No more than they ought to do, said James, for a great man who 
 gives his life for his country. I quite agree with you, said Uncle Frank. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What is a hero ? Who is the hero here described ? How did he first 
 become known ? What can you tell about his fighting the Indians in the 
 South-west ? Tell me the story about one of his teamsters. How did he 
 treat his horse ? What did he say about his horse ? Where and how was 
 he killed? 
 
 ,$<%, 
 
 DANIEL B00:N"E 
 
 AND LIFE O]^ THE FEONTIEK. 
 
 NCLB FRANK and his little friends were rambling 
 through the woods. Coming to the bank of a cool 
 brook, they sat down in the shade and began to talk 
 about the time when our whole country was a wilder- 
 ness. 
 
 A great many privations fell to the lot of the 
 early settlers, said Uncle Frank. 
 
 Who was Daniel Boone ? asked James. Was he 
 an early settler? 
 
 Yes, was Uncle Frank's reply, and now that you have mentioned 
 him, I will tell you his history. 
 
 At the time of the French and Indian War — about twenty years be- 
 fore the Revolution — the country that now forms the State of Kentucky 
 
70 
 
 DANIEIv BOONE. 
 
 was a wooded wil- 
 derness, used by 
 the Indians only 
 for hunting. 
 
 '' Kan-tuck- 
 kee " they called 
 it, meaning the 
 dark and bloody 
 ground. Soon 
 after the close of 
 the war — in 1763 
 — a few bold white 
 hunters crossed 
 the mountains 
 that guarded it on 
 the east, and be- 
 gan to explore its 
 great resources. 
 Among them was 
 Daniel Boone. 
 He was a native 
 of Pennsylvania, 
 though he had 
 lived in North 
 Carolina since he 
 was eighteen 
 years old. He 
 was a grown man 
 by this time, with 
 a family and quite 
 a good reputation 
 throughout the 
 country for his 
 intelligence and 
 many adventures. 
 Much interested 
 in the little he 
 learned about the hunting-grounds of the Indians, he made up a party 
 
 THE FAMOUS DANIEL BOONE. 
 
DANIEIy BOONE. 71 
 
 after a few years, to explore its wilds. It was a most discouraging trial. 
 Boone himself, and his brother who joined them later, were the only ones 
 who escaped from the Indians. 
 
 Alone they passed the winter in the vast forest, savage beasts and 
 savage men their only neighbors. In the spring the brother went home 
 for supplies, and Daniel spent the three solitary months in the little hut 
 and its grand and beautiful surroundings, until the brother returned with 
 horses, food, and powder. Then they went on their explorations until 
 early in the next spring. The wonders of beauty and richness they found 
 can scarcely be imagined even in the fair Kentucky of to-day. Then it 
 was perfectly fresh, unworn, unmarred by man in any way, and much of 
 it still shrouded in delightful mystery. Thoroughly charmed with the 
 region, the brothers resolved now to go to North Carolina, get their fami- 
 lies, and return with them to the new country and there make their home. 
 
 PARTY OF FORTY TRAVELLINGj THROUGH THE WILDERNESS. 
 
 It was two years before they could make all the necessary arrange- 
 ments. But at last they were ready and off. Five other families had 
 joined them, and it was a happy party of forty that set their faces north- 
 westward to find under the leadership of Boone a new home in a fair, 
 rich country beyond the mountains. Wives and children were fixed to 
 ride as comfortable as possible ; clothes and cooking-utensils were carried 
 by pack-horses, and a herd of swine and cattle were driven before. For 
 some time they went along without any serious mishap. 
 
 But suddenly the pleasant expectation of the travelers was turned 
 into fear and confusion. A party of Indians fell upon the rear of the line 
 and killed a number of the company, among them Boone's youngest son. 
 This put a stop to their progress, and instead of pushing further into the 
 territory of the savages, they turned aside and settled in Virginia. But 
 Boone was yet to found a settlement in Kentucky. 
 
 The Government, having heard of the fine lands across the moun- 
 tains, proposed to give portions of it to the Virginia heroes of the French 
 and Indian War. It was necessary, therefore, to have these lands sur- 
 veyed, and who was so able to help in the work as Boone, who had already 
 spent two years in exploring them ? He willingly undertook the work, 
 and when it was done the governor appointed him to lead a force of col- 
 onists against some Indians who were disturbing the settlers on the Vir- 
 ginia frontier along the Ohio. After successfully routing the trouble- 
 
72 DANIEIy BOONE. 
 
 some savages, lie returned to liis family and found tliat tlie little company 
 had recovered from their fright about the Indians and were anxious to go 
 on to Kentucky. 
 
 Another company was also formed in North Carolina to assist in 
 making settlements, and Boone was chosen general manager and surveyor 
 for the whole party. After a time, they again set out for the West. On 
 reaching the Kentucky River they received another attack from the 
 Indians and again a few of their number were killed. But this time they 
 kept on, and when in April, 1775, the patriots in Massachusetts were 
 engaged in the battle of Lexington, the pioneers in Kentuck}^ were build- 
 ing a fort and founding the settlement of Boonesborough. Here the 
 women and children were brought, and home life among white people 
 began in Kentucky. Boone's wife and daughter were the first white 
 women, it is said, that ever stood upon the banks of the Kentucky River- 
 
 BOONE CAPURED BY THE INDIANS. 
 
 The fort was a sure protection against the Indians as long as the set- 
 tlers kept within it ; but to venture out was dangerous. The Indians were 
 always prowling about, watching all that went on, and sometimes captur- 
 ing those who went beyond its protection. But Boone had great skill in 
 dealing with the red men, and usually recovered the captives, and also 
 made his own escape when — as it happened once or twice — he was himself 
 taken. 
 
 He was in many respects a wonderful man. He had a clear and 
 well-balanced mind, and was able to do successfully whatever he under- 
 took. Without knowing anything about politics, he kept up a settlement 
 on the frontier, and without having any military knowledge, he was one 
 of the worst foes the Indians ever met with. An author who loved noble 
 traits in men once said of Boone : He was seldom taken by surprise, never 
 shrunk from danger, nor failed beneath exposure or fatigue ; he knew 
 nothing of engineering as a science, yet he laid out the first road through 
 the wilderness of Kentucky and established the first fort there. He had 
 few books and read little, but he thought a great deal, and was in his way 
 a talented man of calm and even mind. He was plain and unpoetical, 
 with wonderful love for the beauties of nature. 
 
 His simple, retiring manners never altered into rustic rudeness ; and, 
 bold and unsparing as he was in warfare, he was fair and kind to all crea- 
 tures — a thoroughly humane man. His wants were no greater than his 
 
DANIEL BOONE. 73 
 
 rifle and the wild woods could supply, while the constant danger in which 
 he lived for many years made him only careful, not uneasy and suspi- 
 cious. Robust, compactly knit in figure, honest, intelligent, and kind, he 
 excelled as a sportsman, and won the respect of his savage captors by his 
 skill and bravery. More than once, without violence, he freed himself 
 from their imprisonment, revealing their bloody schemes to his country- 
 men, and meeting them on the battlefield with a coolness and swiftness 
 that awoke their admiration as much as their astonishment. 
 
 Again and again he saw his companions fall before their tomahawks 
 and rifles ; his daughter he rescued from the red men's camp, to which she 
 had been carried from his very door ; his son fell before his eyes in a con- 
 flict with the Indians who opposed their immigration to Kentucky ; his 
 brother and his dearest friends were victims either to their strategy or 
 violence ; his own escape from death at their hands was due more than 
 once to the influence he had obtained over them by tact and patience, and 
 to his sure, swift action when the chance came to flee from them. 
 
 GALLANT DEFENSE OF THE FORT AGAINST THE SAVAGES. 
 
 Once when Boone was a prisoner in the Indians' camp — captured 
 while gathering salt near the fort — the chief came to like him so well that 
 he adopted him to take the place of his lost son. His only course was to 
 appear satisfied, but he was keenly on the watch for all the movements of 
 the red men, and finally learned that they were planning an attack upon 
 Boonesborough. He swiftly resolved to escape, and warn the settlement 
 of the danger. In a short time he managed to get away, and, traveling a 
 hundred and sixty miles in five days, he astonished his friends by appear- 
 ing among them long after they had lost all hope of his being alive, and 
 his wife and children had gone mournfully back to their old home in 
 North Carolina. The fort was quickly prepared for an attack from the 
 Indians, who soon came, four hundred and fifty strong, against a little 
 band of seventy. After nine days of fighting the Indians gave up and left 
 the fort still in the hands of Boone and his colony. 
 
 When all was safe he went after his family and brought them back 
 to Boonesborough in 1780. Here he remained for twelve years, engaged 
 in improving and enlarging the settlement and occasionally turning out 
 against the hostile Indians, who succeeded now and then in capturing 
 some beloved member of the colony, but were for the most part kept well 
 at bay. 
 
74 DANIEL BOONE. 
 
 The fair lands of Kentucky began after awHile to be in great 
 densand. Those who owned the rich acres could sell them at a high- 
 price, and some of the early settlers were now rewarded in wealth for the 
 hardships they had endured. Boone, being one of the first and greatest 
 of these, supposed that he owned quite a good deal of the land he had dis- 
 covered, explored, and colonized. But sharp men found out that his 
 papers were not legal, and that he could not hold his land. 
 
 MISFORTUNES OF BOONE IN HIS OLD AGE. 
 
 Hardy and heroic as he was, he was also too modest and diffident to 
 be able to quarrel about what was justly his, so in his old age he left Ken- 
 tucky to those more bold for wealth and less high-principled than himself 
 and retreated into the \vild regions of IMissouri, which had not yet been 
 invaded by those who followed the sturdy settlers to reap the benefit of 
 their pioneering. There he received a grant of land from Spain, but lost 
 it also through a mistake in the title papers. 
 
 After this second misfortune he wrote a simple, touching letter to the 
 people of Kentucky, asking them to help him to get a clear title to at 
 least part of his lands, saying, *' I have no place to call my own, whereon 
 to lay my bones;" and as in those days it was one of a man's first duties 
 to set aside and prepare a burial-ground for himself and his family, the 
 people were greatly touched. The State begged ten thousand acres or 
 more of Congress, and the gift was granted ; but the lawyers who came in 
 between the giver and the receiver cheated the heroic old man out of even 
 this, and he "who had helped to conquer an empire died landless at last." 
 But his memory was not without honor. 
 
 On an autumn day, some years ago, a hearse, garlanded with ever- 
 greens, was slowly drawn by white horses through the main street of 
 Frankfort, Kentucky. It was the second funeral of Daniel Boone. His 
 remains lay in the cherry-wood coffin he had polished himself in the rude 
 and lonely cabin on the banks of the Missouri, and they were then being 
 removed by the State, to the public cemetery of the capital of Kentucky. 
 People said it was but just that these ceremonies of love and respect 
 should be paid to the memory of the noble and cheated old pioneer, who 
 first explored their fair State, when the elk and buffalo held undisputed 
 possession with the Indian; when its dark forests were the contested 
 boundary between the Cherokees, Creeks, and Catawbas, of the South ; 
 and the Swanees, Delawares, and Wyandottes, of the North ; and the deep 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKUN. 75 
 
 glades of the forest primeval were stained with the warrior blood of the red 
 savages. 
 
 Daniel Boone was born in Bucks County, Pennsylvania, 1735. He 
 died in Missouri, in 1820 or 1822. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 In what period of our country's history did Daniel Boone live? 
 What part of the country did he explore? While he and his party were 
 traveling by whom were they attacked ? What appointment did Daniel 
 Boone receive from our government ? Who were the first white women 
 that ever stood on the banks of the Kentucky River ? What was Daniel 
 Boone's appearance ? Describe his being captured by the Indians. How 
 did he lose his property ? Where was he born and when did he die ? 
 
 BENJAMIlSr FKA:RKLI]sr 
 
 THE NOBLE PATEIOT. 
 
 NCLH FRANK had been waiting for his young friends 
 some minutes before they arrived. Always be on 
 time, he said, as they came out hurriedly to the seats 
 waiting for them on the porch. Perhaps you have 
 some excuse, he said, for being late this morning. 
 
 None at all, said Mabel, as she turned her frank, 
 round face toward Uncle Frank. We were playing 
 and forgot ourselves. 
 
 You should always be punctual, was the reply. 
 I might have told you when I was speaking of Washington about a secre- 
 tary of his who got into the habit of being a few minutes late every day, 
 and always excused himself by saying his watch was slow. One day 
 Washington gave him a stern look and said, " Either you will have to get 
 a new watch, or I will have to get a new secretary." The young man 
 took the hint and after that was on time. 
 
 I want to tell you to-day, continued Uncle Frank, of that great man 
 and noble patriot, Benjamin Franklin. He was born in Boston, January 
 17, 1706. He was the youngest of seventeen children, and was intended 
 for his father's business, which was that of a soap-boiler and tallow- 
 
T6 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKUN. 
 
 chandler, but being disgusted witb tbis employment, be was apprenticed 
 to bis brotber, wbo was a printer. Tbis occupation was more congenial 
 to bis taste, and be used to devote bis nigbts to tbe perusal of sucb books 
 as bis scanty means enabled bini to buy. 
 
 B}^ living on a vegetable diet, wbicb was cbeap, be obtained more 
 money for buying books, and at sixteen bad read works wbicb were usu- 
 ally read b}^ mucli older persons. Having displeased bis fatber and 
 brotber, be determined to give up bis engagement witb bis brotber, and 
 leave Boston. Tbis be accomplisbed, arrived at New York, walked tbence 
 
 to Pbiladelpbia, and entered tbe city 
 of Friends witb some articles of 
 dress in bis pockets, a dollar in 
 casb, and a loaf of bread under bis 
 arm. 
 
 Here be obtained employment 
 as a printer, and Sir William Keitb, 
 tbe governor, observing bis dili- 
 gence, persuaded bim to go to Bng- 
 laud, to purcbase materials for a 
 press, on bis own account. Tbis 
 was in 1725, but be found be was 
 tbe bearer of no letters tbat would 
 aid bim, and be was accordingly 
 obliged to work at bis trade. He 
 returned to Pbiladelpbia, wbere, 
 in a sbort time, be entered into 
 FR.\NKLiN's BIRTHPLACE. busiuess witb ouc Mcrcditb, and 
 
 about 1728, began a newspaper in wbicb be inserted many of bis moral 
 essays, and advice about saving money. 
 
 He publisbed Poor Ricbard's Almanac wbicb is well known. It has 
 a great many wise and pitby sayings, tbat bas always been regarded as 
 excellent advice for everybod}-. iVt tbe age of twenty-seven, be began tbe 
 study of modern and classical languages. 
 
 He founded tbe University of Pennsylvania and tbe American Pbilo- 
 sopbical Societ}^, and invented tbe " Franklin stove," wbicb beld a place 
 for a long time among tbe variet}^ of modern inventions of a similar kind. 
 In 1746 be made bis experiments on electricity and applied bis discoveries 
 to tbe invention of tbe lightning rod. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 77 
 
 The story is told of him that he went into the fields on the outskirts 
 of Philadelphia during a thunder storm, sent up a kite that had a wire 
 attached to it, and in this way drew lightning from the clouds. This led 
 him to conclude that safety could be obtained during thunder storms by 
 having lightning rods. These would be good conductors for the elec- 
 tricity, which in that 
 case would not make a 
 conductor of a person 
 that was near, thereby 
 destroying life. 
 
 In 1 75 1 Franklin 
 was appointed deputy 
 postmaster general for 
 the colonies. After the 
 defeat of General Brad- 
 dock, which was men- 
 tioned when I told you 
 about Washington, a 
 provincial militia was 
 established and Frank- 
 lin was chosen colonel. 
 In 1757 he was sent to 
 England with a petition 
 to the king and council 
 against the property 
 owners who refused to 
 bear a share in the pub- 
 lic expenses. While 
 thus employed he pub- 
 lished several works 
 
 FRANKLIN AT THE AGE OF TWENTY. 
 
 which gained him a high reputation. In 1762 Franklin was chosen fellow 
 of the Royal Society, and made doctor of laws at Oxford, which were very 
 high honors, and the same year returned to America. 
 
 In 1764 he was again sent to England as agent of his province, and 
 in 1766 was examined before the House of Commons on the subject of the 
 stamp-act, which was a tax that the Americans disliked very much. His 
 answers were clear and firm. His conduct in England was worthy of his 
 previous character. Finding him warmly attached to the colonies, abuse 
 
n 
 
 SE^NJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 and coarse satire were leveled against him, but his truthfulness and match- 
 less wit formed a complete defence. Pie was next offered '' any reward, 
 honors and money beyond his expectations," if he would forsake his 
 country, but he stood firm as a rock. 
 
 He returned to America in 1775. The battle of Lexington had taken 
 place while he was at sea, and the whole country was now filled with 
 excitement. The day after he landed, on the 6th of May, 1775, he was 
 made a delegate to the Continental Congress, and was there put on the 
 famous committee of five, with Jefferson, John Adams, Roger Sherman, 
 and Robert R., Livingston, to prepare the Declaration of Independence, 
 
 and after it was adopted and written 
 on parchment, he, with the fifty-six 
 other honored patriots, risked life, 
 land, and all against the power and 
 wrath of Great Britain in signing it. 
 
 Franklin was a statesman, not a 
 soldier, and his work during the Revo- 
 lutionary War was to draft the first 
 plan of government, called the Articles 
 of Confederation ; to help enlist sol- 
 diers to defend his State, Pennsylva- 
 nia; to take up all the different duties 
 and cares of the first Postmaster-Gen- 
 eral ; to visit Washington's camp and 
 consult with the Commander-in-Chief 
 upon ways and means ; to go to Can- 
 ada to see if the people there would join with the Colonies ; and to labor 
 devotedly for his country's cause on committees of the greatest importance 
 and in the conventions that controlled the public actions of the people. 
 
 When, before the close of the second year of the war, it became neces- 
 sary for us to have a helping friend in some great foreign power, it was 
 the wise and venerable Dr. Franklin who was sent to France. Although 
 he was then in his seventieth year, he was still one of the shrewdest and 
 best agents that ever managed the affairs of any country. He at once 
 became a great favorite in Paris. People were charmed with his simple 
 ways and quaint manners, for he pretended to be nothing more than a 
 plain American, and he was famous over Europe for learning, statesman- 
 ship, discoveries in science, inventions, and wisdom about common things. 
 
 franklin's printing press. 
 
Benjamin frankun. 7$? 
 
 In a short time lie completely won over the favor of the French 
 people to the American side, but for a long while the government would 
 not agree to do anything for us, because France did not want to bring on 
 a war with Great Britain by uniting openly with the American Colonies 
 although she had ' 
 
 given us secret aid 
 from the first. But 
 we needed more than 
 that ; we wanted a 
 firm and open friend, 
 and so, while Dr. 
 Franklin was allow- 
 ing himself to be the 
 pet of French so- 
 ciety, while he was 
 making the acquain- 
 tance of the greatest 
 people of the capital, 
 and also interesting 
 every one by his own 
 part in these things, 
 he was still more 
 earnestly trying to 
 bring about an agree- 
 ment with the gov- 
 ernment. 
 
 After about a 
 year of toilsome busi- 
 ness that taxed all 
 his resources as well 
 as his' good temper, 
 the object was se- 
 cured, the treaty was made, and a fleet of sixteen war-vessels under Count 
 D'Kstaing, and an army of four thousand men were sent to America in 
 the summer of 1778. Franklin was now able to buy vessels, which were 
 made into American cruisers. The next year he helped to fit out a fleet 
 of vessels, which were sent out from France under command of John Paul 
 Jones, the story of whose gallant life I will tell you later. 
 
 FRANKLIN AT THE AGE OF SEVENTY. 
 
80 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 The agreements in this treaty were most favorable to the -United 
 Stales, and it has often been said that we owe our independence to it. 
 But it did not secure rest or even smooth sailing for our old and busy 
 statesman. During the remainder of the war, he stayed on at Paris, 
 devoting himself to all the difi&cult and perplexing foreign affairs that fill 
 the pages of those years of our history. They were 
 of all kinds — civil, military, and naval, and kept Frank- 
 ^lin constantly at work ; '' smoothing, aiding, contriving, 
 and assisting by word and by pen, always 
 ^wise, always to the point, he steered the bark 
 h of his country to the desired haven." 
 
 His wit and humor rendered his 
 society acceptable to every class. 
 On one occasion he was dining 
 with the Bnglish am- 
 bassador, and a French 
 of&cer at Paris. The 
 former rose, and gave 
 the following senti- 
 ment : " England — the 
 bright stiji whose rays 
 illuminate the world ! " 
 The French gentleman, 
 struggling between pa- 
 triotism and politeness, 
 proposed : " France — 
 the moon whose mild 
 beams dispel the shades 
 of night." Dr. Frank- 
 lin, rising in turn, said : 
 "General George Wash- 
 ington — the Joshua 
 who commanded the sun 
 and moon to stand still 
 
 franklin's grave, fifth and arch streets, 
 philadelphia. 
 
 — and they obeyed him ! " Do you not think this was a good rejoinder. 
 
 When Franklin had passed away and the story of his life was full}- 
 
 told, it was then known what a really great man he was. Beside his 
 
 statesmanship, which was so able in small things and great, that the sue- 
 
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BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 81 
 
 •;ess of the Revolution was very largely due to him, he was a great phil- 
 osopher and scholar, a public benefactor, and a practical inventor and 
 workman. He showed his countrymen how to think and write ; he pub- 
 lished some American newspapers, and the famous "Poor Richard's 
 Almanac." This was announced as being edited by Richard Saunders, 
 of Philomath, and printed and published by Benjamin Franklin, of Phila- 
 delphia. From the year 1732 it was issued yearly for a quarter of a cen- 
 tury. It had a place in almost every household in the land, not only on 
 account of the information it contained, but also for its shrewd and 
 worldly-wise maxims, which were afterward gathered into a pamphlet 
 called " The Way to Wealth," and, being translated into many languages, 
 long ago became a part of the world's stock of wise proverbs. 
 
 YOUNG MEN SEEKING TO IMPROVE THEMSELVES. 
 
 Soon after he returned to Philadelphia — after his short first stay in 
 England — he began to make himself felt for good in the city, although he 
 was then but a young printer, just of age. He gathered his friends 
 together into a social and literary club, called the Junto. It was a small 
 circle of clerks, joiners, and shoemakers, who, with Franklin for their 
 leader, met to improve themselves, help mankind, their country, their 
 friends, and each other. Everything about it was carried on with the 
 same simplicity and common-sense that always marked its founder in 
 whatever he did. Although its influence was soon felt far and wide by 
 branch clubs, it was never enlarged, and even its existence was kept a 
 secret. It lasted for forty years, and out of it grew the American Philo- 
 sophical Society, while the small collection of books, owned in common by 
 its members, was the beginning of the great Philadelphia Library — " The 
 mother of all the North American subscription libraries." 
 
 Perhaps the highest praise that was ever given to this great and good 
 man was spoken by Lord Chatham, in 1775, when he said that this man 
 from America was ^' one whom all Europe holds in high estimation for his 
 knowledge and wisdom, who is an honor not to the English nation only, 
 but to human nature.'' ^ 
 
 The greatness of his mind and character was due chiefly to his own 
 efforts. His parents had a larger family than they could easily support, 
 and Benjamin, as we have seen, was put to work in his father's soap fac- 
 tory in Boston when he was ten years old ; but he shows in the story of 
 his life written by himself, how he educated and supported himself at the 
 6 
 
82 
 
 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 same time, and by living according to strict rules of work, study, temper- 
 ance, and liouor, gradually raised himself to a Hgli place among the 
 greatest, most useful men of liis own or any other time. 
 
 He died in Philadelphia on the 17th of April, 1790, and was buried in 
 the churchyard at Fifth and Arch streets in that city. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where was Benjamin Franklin born and when? What was his 
 father's business ? What trade did Franklin learn ? Where did he go 
 from Boston ? How did he draw lightning from the clouds ? Why was 
 he sent by our government to England ? What great services did he ren- 
 der to America ? What was Franklin's business ? Give an illustration 
 of his wit and humor. Tell me something about Poor Richard's Alma- 
 nac. When did Franklin die and where was he buried ? 
 
 :$^\ 
 
 JOHN PAUL JONES 
 
 THE FAMOUS :^rAYAL HEEO. 
 
 .0 YOU like to hear tales about the sea and sailors ? asked 
 Uncle Frank. 
 
 I do, said James ; the others can speak for them- 
 selves. 
 
 Elsie and Mabel were much interested, they 
 said, in important events on sea or land which gave 
 them a knowledge of American history. 
 
 Listen, then, said Uncle Frank, to what I have 
 to tell you. The greatest naval hero of the Revolu- 
 tion was John Paul Jones, a Scotchman, who first came to America when 
 he was an apprentice-boy, on an errand for his master, a great English 
 tobacco merchant. He was only John Paul then, for the Jones was added 
 to his name in later years. 
 
 At the age of twelve he had been sent to Whitehaven, in England, 
 which is just across the Sol way Firth or bay from his native place. 
 There he was apprenticed to a merchant who had a large trade with 
 America. He was a bxxght boy, fond of his books, and one that could be 
 
JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 83 
 
 trusted, so the next year, when the merchant sent a ship to Virginia for 
 a cargo of tobacco, John Paul went along, for he had a brother in that 
 State. He was much pleased with the new country, but still more so with 
 his voyage. Life at sea seemed so delightful to him that he began to 
 study navigation at once, that is, how to manage a ship ; and when, soon 
 after his return to England, his master's business failed, he was glad to 
 be released from his apprenticeship so that he could become a sailor. 
 
 His studies had fitted 
 him to take a good place in 
 the merchant service, and 
 he soon had an offer to ship 
 in the slave trade, which 
 was one of the most flour- 
 ishing branches of English 
 commerce at that time. So 
 arrangements were made, 
 and the day came when the 
 ship King George set sail 
 from Whitehaven with 
 John Paul for third mate. 
 The ship went to Africa 
 and returned, and when 
 Paul next went to sea — 
 which was very soon — it 
 was as chief m2,te of the 
 Two Friends. He was now 
 nineteen years old, and car- 
 ried his cargo of human 
 beings safely to the island 
 of Jamaica, where the ves- 
 sel belonged. But as soon 
 as his duty was fulfilled J°^^ ^^^^ J^^^' 
 
 he gave up the ship. He declared he would never again have anything 
 to do with the slave trade, and took passage for home in the first ship 
 bound for Great Britain. 
 
 Yellow fever broke out during the voyage. Captain, mate, and all 
 the chief officers died, leaving the brig in the middle of the Atlantic with- 
 out a man of the crew able to guide its course. The young passenger 
 
84 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 took command, and tlie men soon saw tliat, though he was but twenty- 
 years of age, he was a thorough sailor, and all obeyed and respected him 
 as their regular chief. He brought the vessel safely to her port, which 
 was near his own home, and the company rewarded him by making him 
 her captain. 
 
 During his first regular voyage in this brig, a false report was raised 
 that he killed the carpenter, whom he had had to flog for neglecting his 
 duty, but who died of a fever some time after landing at the West Indies, 
 This was so much talked about, and so great a time made over Captain 
 Paul's " cruelties," that he left Scotland for good in 1771. After serving 
 in England's West India trade for awhile, he came to Virginia, where his 
 brother had left him heir to a goodly estate. The country which had dis- 
 trusted and slandered him he would claim no longer. Hereafter he would 
 be an American. He would not even bear the old name, but would be 
 John Fsiul Jones in future. 
 
 HE HOISTED THE AMERICAN FLAG. 
 
 In a couple of years the Revolutionary War broke out, and the first 
 of the lieutenants appointed in the new navy was John Paul Jones. He 
 was placed on board of the frigate Alfred, the first vessel, it is said, over 
 which the American flag ever floated. It was Lieutenant Jones himself 
 who first hoisted the yellow sheet when the commodore came to the fleet, 
 and displayed to Commander Hopkins the coiled rattlesnake and the 
 motto " Don't tread on me." This was a flag that was in use before we 
 had the Stars and Stripes. 
 
 Jones was afterward promoted to be commander of the Providence. 
 In this vessel, during a cruise of six weeks, he captured sixteen prizes. 
 He was then made one of the regular captains in the young navy of the 
 United States, and ordered to start out on board the Ranger for a two or 
 three months' cruise against the craft of England. At that time our 
 whole navy numbered onl}^ a few vessels, while England had over a thou- 
 sand. It needed a great deal of skill to keep out of the way of their heavy 
 men-of-war, and still more to watch them and make unexpected attacks on 
 them at just the right moment. But Jones was as keen and alert as an 
 enemy as he was able as a seaman. He took many English merchant and 
 trading vessels, and even drove some fishing-vessels away from their 
 grounds at Cape Breton. 
 
 After this the English concluded that the Ranger needed looking 
 
JOHN FAVh JONES. 85 
 
 after, so they fitted out and sent off the Drake, a larger vessel than 
 Jones's, with almost twice as many guns. Her orders were to capture the 
 Ranger. The two vessels met just off the southeastern coast of Scotland, 
 in April of 1778, and after an hour of quick, sharp, and spirited fighting, 
 the Drake, instead of the Ranger, was the captured craft. Captain Jones 
 carried his prize to the coast of France and sent the Ranger home to 
 America. 
 
 The news of this victory was a surprise to every one and a very 
 unpleasant one to England. They had before felt nothing but disdain for 
 the weak little navy of the " American Colonies," but now they learned 
 that it was not as harmless as it was young and small. 
 
 HE PAYS A VISIT TO THE KING. 
 
 For five months after the capture of the Drake Jones was kept waiting 
 in France for a vessel. While people were talking over and praising his 
 naval skill he was without money or employment in a foreign country. 
 Congress was too poor to fit out another vessel, or even to send him the 
 money he needed to keep himself and crew from want. About this time 
 Benjamin Franklin succeeded in getting the French Government to 
 openly become our ally, and Jones looked to them for a vessel and sup- 
 plies. 
 
 While he was watching and waiting for a reply to some of the 
 numerous letters he had written to the court, he one day came across a 
 copy of "Poor Richard's Almanac," in which he found one of Franklin's 
 wise sayings that applied exactly to his owii case. It was, " If you want 
 your business well done, go and do it yourself" Jones resolved to act on 
 this stray bit of advice, and went at once to the king. His honor and 
 fame from the Ranger's exploits were enough to admit him to the court, 
 where he could command respect and attention by his presence as well as 
 his renown. He had made himself well educated and cultivated by adding 
 industry to his genius, and although his figure was neither large, robust, 
 nor more than medium tall, it was active and vigorous. His weather- 
 beaten face had keen black eyes that lightened a certain melancholy grace 
 which softened his compact and determined-looking features. 
 
 He soon interested the king in his desire to raise a fleet and again 
 meet America's enemies on the sea. Arrangements that had already been 
 begun were now soon completed, and a squadron of French and American 
 vessels was placed under the command of Jones, who named the old India- 
 
8G JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 man, which fell to his lot, the Bon Homme Richard. That meant Good 
 Man Richard, in Knglisli, and was in honor of Benjamin Franklin, the 
 almanac-maker and distinguished American minister to France. 
 
 When at last the squadron was ready, the Bon Homme Richard and 
 her four companion vessels set sail from France in the middle of August, 
 1779, the fourth year of the war. It was a poor fleet, manned by a motley 
 crew of more foreigners than Americans and some under-officers that were 
 not fit for their posts. But it seemed as if no disadvantages could cause 
 Commander Jones to fail. After a month's cruising he had captured and 
 destroyed twenty-six of the enemy's vessels. 
 
 One day in the latter part of September, near the end of his course 
 around the British Isles, the Bon Homme Richard, the Pallas, and the 
 Alliance suddenly fell in with the British fleet, off Flamborough Head. 
 The fleet was protected by two British cruisers, the Countess of Scar- 
 borough and the Serapis. The last was a fine new frigate, carrying 
 forty-four guns and manned by a picked crew. She was larger and far 
 stancher than any of Jones's vessels, but the commander was not daunted 
 and prepared the Bon Homme to give her battle. 
 
 HIS FAMOUS VICTORY ON THE SEA. 
 
 The engagement took place on a smooth sea and in the Calm moon- 
 light of the night of September 23d, a date that will always be remem- 
 bered, for this was one of the most remarkable naval battles ever fought. 
 In everything except the valor and genius of her commander, the Serapis 
 had the advantage, for although Captain Pearson was a brave and able 
 man, he had his superior in John Paul Jones. The Bon Homme had two 
 guns burst at the outset, killing a number of men, and in the thick of the 
 fight, for some unknown reason, her own comrade, the Alliance, under 
 the zealous Frenchman Landais, fired upon her again and again, while 
 the Serapis was pouring volley upon volley into her rotten timbers 
 from the other side. After awhile Captain Pearson called out, *' Has your 
 ship struck ? " to which Jones flung back the answer, " I have not yet 
 begun to fight." Then he helped to lash the jib-stay of the Serapis to 
 the mizzen-mast of the Richard, and the deadly fire was thicker than 
 ever, hand to hand and muzzle to muzzle. 
 
 The Serapis had a full battery against three guns on the Richard's 
 deck, but the Richard's tops were filled with sailors who, armed with 
 muskets and hand grenades, swept the Englishman's boards, and finally set 
 
JOHN PAUIy JONES. 87 
 
 fire to a quantity of cartridges whicli exploded with as mucli damage to 
 tlie Serapis as the Richard received when her guns burst at the beginning 
 
 of the battle. 
 
 Then there came a cry that the Richard's hull had been broken in 
 and the vessel was sinking. A hundred English prisoners rushed up 
 from below, but before they had a chance to leap upon the deck of the 
 Serapis, Jones, cool and commanding, ordered them to the pumps. They 
 were prisoners of war, honor-bound to obey him, and so they saved the 
 vessel from sinking till the Serapis struck her colors — both vessels then 
 on fire. Unseaworthy to start with, the Bon Homme could not be saved ; 
 she was left the next morning and soon sank to the bottom. Meanwhile 
 the Pallas, which had a better of&cer than the Alliance, captured the 
 Countess of Scarborough, so the American victory was complete. 
 
 HE CAPTURES SILVER TREASURES. 
 
 Jones was absent from home for about three years, during which 
 time his exploits were numerous and of the most astonishing character. 
 He was denounced as a pirate by the English, who became so alarmed by 
 his achievements that many people did not feel safe even in London. 
 Some of the timid ones looked out on the Thames, half expecting to see 
 the terrible fellow lay their city under tribute. At one time he landed on 
 the coast of Scotland, and, appearing at the residence of the Earl of Sel- 
 kirk, captured a large amount of silver plate and booty. But he treated 
 the Earl's household with great courtesy, and the plate that was seized at 
 the time is now in the possession of the members of the Selkirk family. 
 
 Paul Jones returned to Philadelphia February i8, 1781, and received 
 a hearty welcome. Congress gave him an appropriate medal and a vote 
 
 of thanks. 
 
 While on a visit to France about five years later, he received an invi- 
 tation to join the Russian Navy with the rank of a rear admiral. He 
 accepted this upon condition that he should remain an American citizen 
 and should never be asked to fight against France. 
 
 He was now forty years of age and a famous hero. The Russian 
 ofiicers felt jealous of his great name and the favor he had in their service, 
 and finally succeeded in carrying false reports of him to the Czarina — the 
 great Queen Catharine — and getting him retired. When he left the 
 service he was promised a handsome pension, which he never received ; 
 and the man who had commanded the attention and admiration of the 
 
88 PAUI. JONKS SKIZTNG THK STLVKR PI.ATK OF T.ADY SELKIRK. 
 
CYRUS FIELD. 
 
 89 
 
 world died in poverty and neglect at Paris, while a commission from the 
 United States to make a treaty with the Dey of Algiers was on its way 
 to him. 
 
 John Paul Jones was born at Arbigland, Scotland, on the 6th of July, 
 1747. He died in Paris, France, July 18, 1792. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who was the greatest naval hero of the Revolution ? Where was he 
 born ? Why did he come to America ? Of what ship was he chief mate ? 
 When yellow fever broke out on the ship when he was a passenger what 
 did he do ? Why did he add Jones to his name ? What British ship did 
 he first capture ? When did he obtain a fleet ? What was the name of 
 his ship ? What was the result of his great battle with the British fleet ? 
 What reply did he make when the British captain asked if his ship had 
 struck ? Whose silver plate did he capture and what became of it ? 
 
 ,^\ 
 
 CYRUS FIELD 
 
 A]N"D THE ATLANTIC CABLE. 
 
 HE telegraph is a wonderful thing, said Mabel, as the 
 young people gathered about Uncle Frank to hear 
 another story. 
 
 Very true, said Uncle Frank, and I think the 
 
 most wouderful thing about it is the electric cable that 
 
 lies at the bottom of the sea and enables people in 
 
 our own country to send messages toothers in Europe. 
 
 Please tell us about the laying of the cable, said 
 
 Elsie, and Uncle Frank readily consented. 
 
 The great Invention of the telegraph, he said, by Professor Morse, 
 
 had but half its present value and usefulness until Cyrus West Field 
 
 carried it across the Atlantic Ocean and united the two continents by its 
 
 magic wire. 
 
 He was a retired merchant about thirty-five years of age, when he 
 
 first became interested in a water or marine telegraph. Some enterprising 
 
 ^jnen had tried to stretch a wire across the island of Newfoundland, the most 
 
90 CYRUS FIELD. 
 
 easterly point on the American coast, and to have this connect with a line 
 of fast steamers, which, it was thought, could reach the nearest point in 
 Ireland in five days. In this way news could be carried from one conti- 
 nent to the other inside of a week. An attempt had already been made 
 to build the line, but it had failed, and now it was wanted that some rich 
 men would take hold of it and carry it through. 
 
 Mr. Field was well known as an able, enterprising, and wealthy man, 
 who had built up a large business in New York from the smallest kind of 
 a beginning. He was strongly urged to take hold of this scheme, which, 
 if well carried out, would be of great benefit to the country and a paying 
 success. He agreed to think about it, and sat in his library turning over 
 a globe and considering, when the thought suddenly came to him, " Why 
 not carry the line across the ocean ? " The more he thought of it the 
 surer he felt that this should be his undertaking. 
 
 LAYING THE FIRST CABLE. 
 
 The next year he obtained from the Legislature of Newfoundland 
 the sole right for fifty years of landing telegraph cables on the island 
 from both Europe and America. He formed a stock company at once, 
 and in a couple of years organized the ^' Atlantic Telegraph Company " 
 in London, furnishing one-fourth of the capital himself. The govern- 
 ments of Great Britain and the United States provided ships, and the first 
 expedition to lay the wire set out in 1857. This and another in the next 
 year both proved failures. Then some time passed, and a third trial was 
 made, which succeeded in laying a cable. But this gave out in about a 
 month. 
 
 Eleven years had now passed, and still the Atlantic telegraph was 
 only a scheme. Many of the stockholders were discouraged, and Mr. 
 Field and his ocean cable was ridiculed by the people and the press of 
 Europe and America. But he never lost faith in the enterprise, though 
 its money and friends were fast growing less. 
 
 In 1865, ^ cable having been constructed and made as nearly perfect 
 as possible by the use of the best materials, the steamship Great Eastern, 
 freighted with it, sailed from Valentia, Ireland, on the 23d of July. On 
 the second day after starting from the Irish coast, a fault in the cable was 
 detected ; a tiny piece of loose iron wire had forced its way through the 
 outer covering of the rubber surrounding the electric wire, so as to come 
 in contact with the latter ; and when this piece was cut out and a new 
 
CYRUS FIELD. 
 
 91 
 
 splice made, tlie fault was effectually cured. The cable liad again to be 
 raised and examined in the same way when the ship was six hundred and 
 thirty-six miles from Valentia, and one thousand and twenty-eight miles 
 from Newfoundland. 
 
 The machinery was slowly pulling the cable in out of the water 
 when, to the surprise of everybody on board, it suddenly parted, thirty feet 
 from the bow of the ship, and with one bound leaped, as it were, into the sea. 
 For a moment dismay seized those on board. They were startled at the 
 thought that the cable had parted and dropped into the sea. Nothing 
 was to be done but to 
 
 adj ust the grappling 
 machinery and search 
 for the lost treasure. At 
 first the iron sank but 
 slowly, but soon the 
 picking-up machinery 
 lowered length after 
 length over cog-wheel 
 and drum, till the iron 
 wires, warming with 
 work, heated at last so 
 as to convert the water 
 thrown upon the ma- 
 chinery into clouds of 
 steam. Still the rope 
 descended, and the great 
 strain was diminished, 
 when at fifteen thousand 
 feet the grapnel reached 
 the bed of the Atlantic ; and as the ship drifted across the course of the 
 cable, there was just a surmise that the grapnel might catch it. 
 
 In the search from August 3d to August nth the cable was grappled 
 three times ; it was lifted each time a considerable way from the bottom, 
 but the grapnel, ropes, and lifting machinery were not sufiicient to bring 
 it to the surface. Nearly twelve hundred miles of the cable now lay 
 along the bed of the Atlantic Ocean ; one end attached to the shore at 
 Valentia, the other submerged under fifteen thousand feet of water, and 
 resting on a soft, oozy bottom. 
 
 SUDDEN BEEAK OF CABLE ON THE GREAT EASTERN. 
 
92 CYRUS FIEI.D. 
 
 A length of fifty-five hundred miles of cable altogether had been 
 made for this great Atlantic enterprise from 1857 to 1865, and nearly four 
 thousand miles had been swallowed up in the ocean ; a million and a 
 quarter had been sunk ; but the grand hopes were not crushed. The 
 various telegraphic companies interested in the completion of the under- 
 taking wisely concluded to resume operations forthwith. 
 
 The stonns of twelve months had passed over the cable before the 
 preparations were complete; that it had not drifted was thoroughly 
 believed. The naval commanders had made accurate observation of the 
 exact latitude and longitude of the spot where the end of the cable finally 
 disappeared in August, 1865 ; and, as the same instruments, applied in 
 the same way, would find the same spot again, this was the test, and the 
 only test relied on. The Great Eastern arrived on the 12th of August at 
 the cable-fishing ground. The grapnel was put forth; the strain indi- 
 cated that it had got hold of the cable ; it was hauled in ; an lo I up came 
 to sight the actual cable itself 1 
 
 Every one on board the ship crowded to the bow to see the grapnel 
 come up over the water. The lost cable of 1865, lifted from its oozy bed 
 two miles beneath the surface of the Atlantic Ocean, now made its appear-, 
 ance, attached to the flukes of the grapnel, amid a spontaneous cheer, 
 
 SWUNG HIS HAT WITH A LOUD CHEER. 
 
 The cable was found to be in good condition. There it was — ^th^ 
 copper in the middle, then the rubber, then the iron wires and then the 
 outer covering of Manilla hemp. The problem to be solved was, whether 
 the cable, after being twelve months at the bottom of the Atlantic, would 
 transmit an electric message to Valentia. An operator applied the end of 
 the cable to his delicate instruments, amid the breathless silence of those 
 around him. He took off his hat and gave a cheer — the cable spoke I 
 
 The Great Eastern, safely making her way to Newfoundland, landed 
 the western end of the ocean wire. The tests were made again and again, 
 with perfect success. The great value of the work was acknowledged in 
 both countries. Several of the English gentlemen who had given their 
 money and influence in helping along the work were honored with 
 knighthood, and in America the greatest honors were bestowed upon Mr. 
 Field. Congress gave him the thanks of the nation, a gold medal, and 
 other testimonials, showing that they looked upon his work as one of the 
 greatest achievements of the century. The French Exposition, which was 
 
BETSY ROSS. 
 
 93 
 
 held aftef the cable had stood the test of about a year's service, gave him 
 its grand medal. This was its highest award and was only given to those 
 who had proved themselves great public benefactors. The thirteen years 
 of labor amid discouragements and ridicule brought him full reward. 
 
 Mr. Field was born at Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on the 30th of 
 November, 1819, and died July 26th, 1892. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who first thought of laying the Atlantic cable ? What had been 
 Cyrus W. Field's business ? What can you say of the first attempts to 
 lay an ocean cable ? What happened to the last cable on board the Great 
 Eastern ? How was this cable found and raised from the bottom of the 
 sea ? How many years was Mr. Field occupied before the undertaking 
 was a success ? When was he born and what was the date of his death ? 
 
 BETSY BOSS 
 
 AKD OUE AMERIOAl^ FLAG. 
 
 AMES came out on the porch waving a flag, then hold- 
 ing it against his side marched up and down, while 
 Uncle Frank and the two girls looked on in admira- 
 tion. 
 
 James must be a young patriot, said Uncle 
 Frank. A patriot, you know, is one who loves his 
 country. 
 
 How did we get the flag ? asked Elsie, and what 
 
 does it mean ? 
 
 I am glad you asked that question. Uncle Frank ' 
 replied, for I would like much to tell you about it. James took his seat 
 and laid aside the Stars and Stripes for the time being. 
 
 The first flag with its present design, that is, with the stars and 
 stripes, was made in 1777 by Betsy Ross. Betsy was born in Philadel^ 
 phia, Pa., January ist, 1752. She was the sixth daughter of Samuel and 
 Rebecca Griscom. Her parents were members of the Society of Friends. 
 Her father was a noted builder, having assisted in the erection of Inde- 
 
94 BETSY ROSS. 
 
 pendence Hall. Betsy was a briglit girl, and grew to be a beautiful 
 woman, noted for her amiable and lady-like manner. Skillful with the 
 needle, she was fond of embroidery and other kinds of fancy work. 
 Among her many admirers was John Ross, a young man who, though 
 poor, was possessed of such qualities as made him worthy of Betsy 
 Griscom. His uncle was the Hon. George Ross, the signer of the Decla- 
 ration of Independence. Young Ross was an upholsterer. One day he 
 noticed the young women in his employ were puzzled over some work. 
 He told them he knew a young woman who could arrange it. They sent 
 for her. Her mother consented to let her learn the business. Thus 
 Betsy became an upholsterer. 
 
 In December, 1773, John and Betsy were married. For marrying 
 " out of meeting " the Friends disowned her. Her husband being an 
 
 Episcopalian, she attended Christ Church with him, 
 occupying a pew near that in which General Wash- 
 ington worshipped. The young couple soon em- 
 barked in the upholstery business, moving into the 
 house 239 Arch street. Here from an injury received 
 while guarding military stores, John Ross died in 
 January, 1776. The young widow heroically deter- 
 mined to continue the business alone. 
 
 " The star-spangled banner, ,,_^ __^,. , -in i 
 
 long may it wave, When Washington wanted a sample nag made. 
 
 O'er the land of the free Betsy Ross was recommended by Hon. George Ross. 
 andthehomeofthebrave." Washington was visitiug John Hancock who was 
 suffering " a severe fit of the gout," and accordingly could not accompany 
 his distinguished guest. Directed by Colonel Ross a short walk brought 
 Washington and Morris to the upholstery shop. Imagine Betsy's sur- 
 prise at the entrance of General Washington and Robert Morris. Her 
 uncle pleasantly explained the purpose of their visit. As they wished to 
 avoid being noticed, she invited them into her little back parlor. They 
 asked her if she could make a flag. She replied : " I don't know, but I 
 will try." 
 
 Washington then drew from his pocket a small paper with a hurried 
 pencil sketch, showing the outlines of a flag of thirteen stripes witli a 
 field dotted with thirteen stars. Thirteen, perhaps you remember, was 
 the number of States at this time in the Union. Betsy notices that the 
 stars as drawn by Washington had six points and suggested that they 
 should have only five. He admitted that she was correct but he pre- 
 
BETSY ROSS. 95 
 
 ferred a star that would not be an exact copy of his coat-of-arms. He 
 supposed a six-pointed star could be more easily made. Betsy replied 
 " nothing was easier if one only knew how," and quickly folding a piece 
 of paper, with one clip of her scissors displayed a perfectly formed five- 
 pointed star. This point was then yielded in her favor and the design 
 redrawn. She was left to make the sample flag according to her own 
 ideas of proportion. It was soon completed, accepted by the committee 
 and adopted by Congress June 14th, 1777. 
 
 BETSY ROSS MADE THE GOVERNMENT FLAGS. 
 
 Afterward, Congress drew an order on the treasury to pay Betsy 
 Ross seventy-three dollars for flags for the fleet in the Delaware river. 
 She soon received the contract to make all the government flags, and held 
 it many years, her daughter, Mrs. Clarissa Wilson continuing the busi- 
 ness until 1857. Betsy Ross was married three times, her second husband 
 was Captain Ashburn, and her third John Clay pole. Thus the history 
 of our flag can be traced right back to its birth by the descendants of 
 Betsy Ross, now living in Philadelphia, 
 
 Says a great writer : " Every color means liberty ; every thread means 
 liberty ; every form of star and beam or stripe of light means liberty. It 
 is not a painted rag." 
 
 The colors of the dear old flag, said Elsie, are red, white and blue. 
 What do they mean ? 
 
 I will tell you, said Uncle Frank. Red means love ; some persons 
 say it means divine love, that is, the love of God. It is the language of 
 bravery and the emblem of war. Red was the field color of England's flag 
 and the colonial army flag. Red denotes daring and defiance ; and it also 
 tells of the blood our forefathers shed for their rights. This meaning 
 appears in the crimson stripes of the flag. White means truth and hope. 
 It is the language of purity and the emblem of peace. 
 
 Blue means loyalty, sincerity, justice. Blue was the color of the 
 Covenanter's banner, of Scotland, adopted by them in opposition to the 
 scarlet of the royalty; its choice is based on Numbers xv. 38: "Speak 
 unto the children of Israel, and bid them that they make them fringes in 
 borders of their garments, throughout their generations, and that they 
 put upon the fringes of the borders a ribband of blue." Other nations, 
 to be sure, had previously used these colors, but never in such a beautiful 
 design as " Old Glory." 
 
96 BETSY ROSS. 
 
 Our flag, my young friends, is not a borrowed one. We did not get 
 it from any other country. Its babyhood bore some resemblance to its 
 English cousins ; but that was because it was a baby. It is really unlike 
 any other flag. 
 
 The house in which the first flag was made is two stories high to the 
 eaves, has a steep, shingled roof and a dormer window. Massive build- 
 ings tower around it. Built in 1682 with bricks which came over in bal- 
 last in the hold of the ship Welcome, mortared in under the supervision 
 of William Penn himself, it is a connecting link between the great 
 founder and the mighty city which he founded. The property is now in 
 possession of the " American Flag House and Betsy Ross Memorial Asso- 
 ciation," which has undertaken to purchase it, and turn it over to the 
 National Government, together with a considerable sum of money to 
 insure its being kept in repair. 
 
 Mr. A. N. Whitmarsh, said Uncle Frank, has told the story of the 
 flag in verse, and here it is. I will read it to you : 
 
 OUR FIRST FLAG. 
 Tune: Yankee Doodle. 
 
 When Uncle Sam his first flag made 
 
 To wave for freedom's cause, sir, 
 He called upon a gentle dame 
 
 Whose name was Betsy Ross, sir, 
 She showed the stripes to Washington, 
 
 Composed of red and white, sir. 
 Clipped thirteen stars out one by one 
 
 For States that did unite, sir. 
 
 Three great men watched her as she wrought 
 
 Our nation's emblem new, sir ; 
 Inspired by her skill and thought 
 
 Its folds in beauty grew, sir. 
 She deftly blent its rosy light 
 
 With blue from Heaven's dome, sir. 
 Then circled it with stars of night 
 
 To show 'twas Freedom's home, sir! 
 
 Each patriot his approval showed 
 
 With dignity and grace, sir. 
 Their gratitude for gifts bestowed 
 
 Smiled forth from every face, sir. 
 
< 
 
 LL 
 
 O 
 
 Z 
 < 
 
 z 
 -J 
 
 o 
 o 
 
GENERAL GEO^^GE VV,,. 
 
PUTNAM'S ESCAPE AT HORSE NECK 
 
GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE 
 
iJliiUA'X'UKS CONi^'LICT WITH THE ALGERINE AT TRIPOLI. 
 
THOMAS A. EDISON. 
 
 97 
 
 Said Morris then to Washington, 
 
 " That is the very thing, sir 1 
 'Twill make the red coats turn and run, 
 
 And scare old George, the King, sir." 
 
 Then Betsy neatly wrapped the flag 
 
 And gave it the committee ; 
 She told them not to let it drag 
 
 As they walked through the city. 
 We'll never let it touch the earth, 
 
 Nor soil its matchless beauty, 
 For flag of such a noble birth 
 
 Shall keep us true to duty 1 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who gave the design for the Stars and Stripes ? Who made the first 
 flag? Where did Betsy Ross live? Tell me about Washington visiting 
 her to get the flag made. What is the meaning of the colors on the flag ? 
 Describe the house in which Betsy Ross lived and tell me what is to be 
 done with it ? 
 
 ^^ 
 
 THOMAS A. EDISON 
 
 THE OELEBKATED INYENTOE. 
 
 ID you ever talk through a telephone? asked Uncle 
 Frank. 
 
 I tried it once, said James, but the fellow at the 
 other end only laughed at me. I suppose it was be- 
 cause I wasn't used to it, and did not know how to 
 talk. 
 
 Do you think the telephone is any more won- 
 derful than the phonograph? Mabel asked. That 
 instrument will repeat everything you say. 
 Be seated, said Uncle Frank, and I will tell you of Mr. Edison who 
 made so many marvellous discoveries in electricity. It has been said : 
 * He is the most remarkable inventor who ever lived. The lesson of his 
 life is found in the fact that he has proved that invention is an art and 
 not a happy guessing, — that discovery is a wise search, not a drifting in 
 
98 
 
 THOMAS A. EDISON. 
 
 the fogs of ignorance. His life is tlie greatest incentive to our young 
 people to be found in modern history. It teaches to work, it points out 
 the new path, very laborious, but ending in success." 
 
 The first time that Mr. Bdison became widely known was in about 
 1870. He had failed in making one of his inventions work, and came to 
 New York to do something, he scarcely knew what. One day he hap- 
 pened to be in the office of the Gold Indicator Company when their elec- 
 trical machinery gave out. It was in the midst of some excitement, and 
 
 when Edison 
 offered to fix 
 it the brokers 
 felt desper- 
 ate enough to 
 let him try, 
 al th ou gh 
 they did not 
 believe he 
 could do any 
 good. But he 
 succeeded in 
 making the 
 instrument 
 work, and so 
 delighted the 
 TA1.KING BY TELEPHONE. manag-ers 
 
 with his appearance that they made him superintendent of the company. 
 
 He was soon famous as a successful inventor; but he was not so 
 successful in manufacturing these instruments and his other inventions, 
 for which there was soon a large demand. It is said if he had an order 
 for any of his inventions, and, after having made a part or all of them, he 
 invented an improvement, he would always add it, even though at his own 
 expense. After a time he gave up the great factory at Newark, New 
 Jersey, and freed himself of its cares for the sake of invention. 
 
 Mr. Edison's chief interest has always been in the telegraph; it 
 began when he was a lad selling papers on the Grand Trunk Railway. 
 One of the great privileges of his life was the gift of lessons in operating 
 the telegraph from a man whose little child he had saved from being run 
 over by a train. But even before this he had a small, home-made tele- 
 
THOMAS A. EDISON. 
 
 99 
 
 grapli of small wire. The wire was wound with rags, while the boyish 
 operator tried in vain to supply the electricity by rubbing the cat's back. 
 He was a clever, enterprising little fellow even then, and although he 
 had scarcely eight weeks of schooling altogether, he had a great thirst 
 for knowledge. He read books on chemistry, science, and in fact took 
 out almost all the important volumes in the Detroit public library before 
 he was fifteen years old. At this age he lost his mother, who had given 
 
 MR. 
 
 EDISON TALKING INTO THE PHONOGRAPH. 
 
 great interest and care to his love of learning; and about that time he 
 became a newsboy on the trains of the Grand Trunk Railroad that ran in 
 and out of Detroit. 
 
 This business had two attractions for him : the money he earned by 
 it, and the chances it gave to see a great many books and papers. Mean- 
 while he kept up his interest in chemistry, experimenting in a corner of 
 an empty car. But this came to a sudden end by the explosion of some 
 chemicals, setting fire to the car and putting the train in danger. 
 
100 THOMAS A. KDISON. 
 
 A little while after he undertook something entirely different; he 
 got a small lot of type and a little sheet called the " Grand Trunk Herald" 
 made its appearance on the train. It was soon after this that the grateful 
 station-master offered to teach him telegraphy. Night after night for 
 several months, when his long day's work was over, he returned to his 
 friend's station and took his lesson. He learned rapidly, and was soon 
 able to get employment as an operator. Gradually he worked up until 
 he had a position in Boston, one of the most important in the country. 
 
 HIS WONDERFUL QUADRUPLEX MACHINE. 
 
 Besides his regular duties he nearly always managed to have a little 
 shop for experiments in chemistry ; sometimes this gave dissatisfaction 
 to his employers, but in Boston his experiments brought him more money 
 than his position, so he gave it up to try the duplex or double telegraph. 
 This succeeded finally, although it failed for a time and made the in- 
 ventor feel pretty down-hearted as he took his way from Rochester to 
 New York; but affairs soon brightened, for the fixing of the stock indi- 
 cator opened the way for a series of the greatest inventions of this cen- 
 tury. Among his chief works are the perfecting of a cheap and service- 
 able electric light, and the inventions of the quadruplex telegraphy and 
 the electric pen. By means of the quadruplex telegraphy, four messages 
 may be sent at the same time over the same wire, in opposite directions. 
 The electric pen, for multiplying copies of letters or drawings, is made up 
 of a tube-shaped pen in which a needle, driven by electricity, works in a 
 motion like that of a sewing-machine needle, and pricks the lines drawn 
 with it, so that the sheet may be afterward inked and used in a press, 
 when the ink, passing through the tiny holes, leaves a finely-dotted 
 tracing like the original on another sheet. 
 
 But of all Mr. Edison's inventions, there are probably none so won- 
 derful and of so great fame as the telephone and the phonograph. 
 
 Mr. Edison was born at Milan, Ohio, February ii, 1847. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What does Mr. Edison's life teach you ? How did he first become 
 known in New York ? Who gave him lessons in operating the telegraph, 
 and how did he come to do it ? Describe his thirst for knowledge ? Where 
 did he make experiments in chemistry ? What happened to the car ? 
 What famous instruments has he invented ? Where and when was he bom ? 
 
EOBEETE.LEE[ 
 
 THE GEEAT COI^fFEDEEATE OOMMAITOEE. 
 
 N old fort near where Uncle Frank lived was a place of 
 resort, and recalled the stirring times of the Revolu- 
 tion. One day when he and the young folks were 
 visiting this place he began to tell them of the war of 
 Independence. Then he passed to the Civil War, 
 and, as they all sat down on the warm ground to- 
 gether, he said, I am going to tell you to-day of the 
 great Confederate commander. 
 That was Robert B. Lee, was it not ? asked James. 
 Yes, said Uncle Frank, and he was a remarkable man. He gradu- 
 ated from our Military Academy at West Point, on the Hudson, where he 
 stood at the head of his class. He finished there when twenty years old 
 and was appointed lieutenant in a corps of engineers. 
 
 For several years his work was establishing boundary lines and im- 
 proving harbors and fortresses in various parts of the country, and when 
 the Mexican War broke out he was made captain of the engineering corps 
 of the army, under General Scott. His courage was equal to his skill, 
 and, heedless of bullets and shells, he took columns to their places as 
 calmly as he planned defences and superintended the works. Once, whem 
 he was wounded at Chapultepec, he kept on carrying orders until he 
 fainted from the effects of his wounds. His gallant service so distin- 
 guished him among his comrades that General Scott made a personal 
 friend of him and the Government promoted him three times, so that he 
 held the rank of colonel at the close of the war. 
 
 It is said that the day after the taking of Mexico, while the officers 
 were having a good time over their wine, some one proposed the health of 
 Ivce, the brave captain of the engineers, who had found the way for them 
 into the city. On looking around they found that he was not among 
 them. Some one was sent to fetch him and found him at last hard at work 
 over a map, which he could not be persuaded to leave. Duty before 
 pleasure was always his motto, 
 
 101 
 
102 
 
 ROBERT E. LEE. 
 
 Four years after tlie close of the Mexican War lie was made Super- 
 intendent of the Military Academy at West Point. Here lie remained 
 three years and then was made lieutenant-colonel of a regiment bound for 
 Texas. His rank was next to that of the commanding officer of the regi- 
 ment, Albert Sydney Johnston. After remaining two years in Texas he 
 obtained leave of absence to return to his home in Virginia. His wife, 
 who was the daughter of General Washington's adopted son, George 
 Washington Parke Curtis, had inherited the Washington estate on the 
 Potomac, and Lee now spent two quiet years at home. 
 
 Meanwhile trouble was brewing in the country. Difference of in- 
 terest and opinion between the 
 North and the South were fast 
 leading to blows. Virginia soon 
 agreed with the other Southern 
 States to leave the Union and 
 with them fight for "States' 
 Rights." Lee was obliged either 
 to take up arms against his na- 
 tive State or resign his position 
 in the Union Army. It was far 
 from his wishes to do either, but 
 he decided to cleave to his State 
 and sent in his resignation. In 
 writing to General Scott he said 
 that he hoped he would never 
 have to draw his sword again, 
 but if he did it would be in de- 
 fense of his native State, since 
 GENERAL ROBERT E. LEE. lie could uot make war upon her. 
 
 General Scott and other distinguished friends urged him to remain 
 with the Union. It is said that even President Lincoln offered him a 
 high position in the army ; but he refused all requests, although he knew 
 that if he joined the Southern Army there would be many to rank above 
 him. He was opposed to the Southern States separating from the Union. 
 He thought it was bad policy ; he said that if he owned a million slaves 
 he would gladly give them to the Union, but his State had decided and he 
 must follow its lead. 
 
 Soon the terrible conflict began. Lee was at first appointed major- 
 
ROBERT E. I.EE. 103 
 
 general of the forces of Virginia, but was soon promoted to tlie third place 
 among the five leading generals of the Southern army. 
 
 He had no very important station during all of the first year, being 
 employed chiefly to look after the coast defences of South Carolina and 
 Georgia. But in June, 1862, he took command of the army to defend 
 Richmond, and succeeded in beating back the Northern army under the 
 command of McClellan. He rose to chief command through the death or 
 failure of higher officers, and he was not long in power before he proved 
 himself worthy of his post. 
 
 SURPRISING MILITARY ACHIEVEMENTS. 
 
 " In the short space of two months," says one of the leading Confed- 
 erate Generals, " with a force at no time over seventy-five thousand, he 
 defeated in repeated engagements two Federal armies, each of which was 
 not less than one hundred and twenty thousand strong, relieved the 
 Southern capital from danger, and even threatened that of the North. 
 Then, throwing his army into Maryland, he swept down on Harper's 
 Ferry and captured it with its garrison of eleven thousand men and 
 seventy-two guns." 
 
 After this came the battle of Fredericksburg and more brilliant move- 
 ments by Lee. Then Grant came up to cope with him, backed by all the 
 splendid forces of the North, while Lee had all his army in the field. For 
 nine months this unequal contest was kept up and the enemy held at bay 
 — almost entirely, says one of Lee's companions, " by the genius of this 
 one man, aided by the valor of his little force, occupying a stretch of over 
 thirty miles and spread out so thin that it was scarcely more than a re- 
 spectable skirmish line." 
 
 The want and sufferings of the Southern soldiers during these last 
 few months of the war were fully equal to those of Washington's men 
 during the Revolution. Shoeless, hatless, ragged, and half-starved, they 
 clung to their commander and their cause until only a handful were left. 
 Powerless to help them, he could only suffer with them. Once, when he 
 was invited to a grand dinner by some wealthy Southerners, he would not 
 touch any but the plainest dishes, saying that he could not bear to be ' 
 feasting when his soldiers were starving. 
 
 His tenderness and kindness to all made him dearly loved by his 
 men, and many touching stories are told of his goodness of heart. One 
 day, when inspecting some batteries not far from the Union lines, the 
 
104 ROBERT E. LEE. 
 
 soldiers gathered round him so as to attract tlie fire of the enemy. Lee 
 told the men that they had better go into the back-yard and not expose 
 themselves to unnecessary danger. They did so, and when he had fin- 
 ished his work he followed. On his way back, while the bullets were 
 whizzing past, he stopped in his quick walk to pick up a young sparrow 
 which had fallen out of its nest and put it back in the tree before he went on. 
 There was a very strong friendship between Lee and Thomas Jona- 
 than Jackson, who is often called " Stonewall Jackson." Each had the 
 greatest admiration for the other. Jackson said : " General Lee is a 
 phenomenon. He is the only man I would follow blindfold." 
 
 WOULD NOT ROB ANOTHER OF HIS HONORS. 
 
 Twice during the war Lee's generous nature shone out most strongly. 
 Once it was at Chancellorsville after he had won the field. As he rode 
 out in sight of his victorious troops they burst out in enthusiastic cheers 
 all along the line. But he refused to take the credit of the victory ; he 
 said it belonged to Jackson. Then again at Gettysburg in the hour of 
 defeat. The battle was lost, it has been said, because someone had not 
 obeyed his orders, but not a word of blame did Lee utter. He took all of 
 the responsibility upon himself 
 
 After the war was over Lee was offered several good positions ; one 
 was in New York with a large salary, and one was to become President of 
 the Washington and Lee University at Lexington, Virginia. Although the 
 latter offered him poorer pay than almost any of the other positions, he 
 decided to accept it, because it seemed to him his duty. The future of the 
 country, he thought, depends upon its young men. The South had an 
 uncertain future, and there would be great need of good citizens. As 
 president of a college he would become well acquainted with the future 
 citizens of his State, and he could help to fit them for useful, noble lives. 
 
 He had a difficult task before him, owing to the disturbed state of 
 the country and the wild and disobedient spirit of the young people who 
 had grown up without much training during the war — for the conflict had 
 scattered homes and broken up families throughout a large part of the 
 South. One of his chief cares was to keep them from cruelty to the negroes 
 and from violent outbreaks against any one connected with the North. 
 
 Lee himself was very free from resentment toward the Union States, 
 and he did a great deal to give his pupils fair and peaceable ideas. He did 
 not govern his college like an army. He was as capable of being a kind 
 
COMMODORE PERRY. 105 
 
 and generous scliool-manager as of maintaining strict army discipline, and 
 when his death came suddenly, he was as sincerely mourned for a noble and 
 upright Christian gentleman as a leader of armies and winner of battles. 
 Robert B. Lee was born at Stratford, Virginia, June 19, 1807. He 
 died at Lexington in the same State, October 12, 1870. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where was General Lee educated ? How old was he when he gradu- 
 ated ? What position did he hold in the Mexican War ? Whom did he 
 marry ? Did he approve of the Southern States leaving the Union ? 
 When did he take command of the army to defend Richmond ? Describe 
 his exploits as commander of the Confederate army in Virginia. What 
 did he do when the war was over ? Where and when was he born, and 
 when did he die ? 
 
 COMMODOKE PEKRT 
 
 AKD HIS YIOTORT 01^ LAKE EEIE. 
 
 AID Uncle Frank, as he took his seat under the big elm 
 in front of the house, I have been reading again the 
 story of that brave naval commander, Oliver Hazard 
 Perry. Who can tell me anything about him ? 
 
 Mabel quickly replied, he fought the battle of 
 Lake Erie, and was one of our greatest raval heroes. 
 That is correct, said Uncle Frank, and you should 
 know his history. About the year 1800 our Govern- 
 ment had a war with the Barbary States. Can you 
 tel? me where to find these states on the map ?^ 
 
 In the northern part of Africa, said James, who had studied his geo- 
 graphy and was very fond of it. 
 
 Quite right, replied Uncle Frank, and our Government once sent a 
 fleet over there to put an end to the trouble and make peace. One of the 
 ships sent was the Adams, and Perry was a midshipman on this vessel, 
 then a young man seventeen years of age. He belonged to a seafaring 
 family. His father was a captain in the navy of the Revolution, who had 
 distinguished himself in several engagements, and all of his four brothers 
 
106 COMMODORE PERRY. 
 
 became officers in the United States Navy, and did excellent service in tlie 
 War of 1812. A midshipman has not a very important part in the battles 
 of his ship, but young Perry made the most of his chances in the Mediter- 
 ranean. He had already been on a vessel under his father's command and 
 had obtained some experience in sea-fighting a few years before, during 
 the threatened war with France, when old Captain Christopher R. Perry, 
 in command of the General Greene, had most successfully obeyed orders 
 to disperse a nest of French cruisers at the West Indies. 
 
 HE ^VAS RAPIDLY PROMOTED. 
 
 Young Perry's good traits were soon noted ; before long he was pro- 
 moted, aud by the time he was twenty-one he reached the rank of lieuten- 
 ant. Shortly after this, the prospects of a second war with England 
 became very clear, and Perry was sent to the navy yards at Newport to 
 overlook the building of seventeen gunboats. When they were finished, 
 they were called into immediate use, and he was told to take charge of 
 them and station his fleet around New York to protect our trading-vessels 
 from the French and English, who were at war at the time and were 
 inclined to treat the young American nation with contempt. France was 
 rather unfriendly to us yet, because the Government refused to take her 
 part in the European war, about sixteen years after the Revolution. 
 Matters were better now than they had been, but there were still a good 
 many annoyances, from time to time. 
 
 In about 1808 Perry was employed to attend to the building of more 
 vessels, and after that he was put in charge of the Revenge and a squad- 
 ron of smaller vessels ordered to cruise along the Atlantic coast. The 
 troubles that finall}^ brought on the war were growing every month, and 
 a good fleet under able command was needed all along our shores to pro- 
 tect American merchant vessels from the British cruisers. 
 
 One day an order came to the commander of the Revenge to do some- 
 thing more than cruise up and down. The American merchantman 
 Diana, which belonged to some private citizens of the United States, had 
 been carried off" by an Englishman and put under British colors. Perry's i 
 orders were to find and capture her. He soon found out where she was 
 stationed, and, collecting his forces, boldly sailed up and took possession 
 of her. The Englishmen fumed and fired their guns, but Perry stood 
 their smoke and shell, and triumphantly carried off his prize. 
 
COMMODORE PERRY. 107 
 
 After this the Englisli cruisers grew more and more insolent. At 
 last they began to board all vessels carrying the American flag, and, by 
 what they called a "right of search," carry off all the British-born sailors 
 they could find and put them into their own service, claiming that he who 
 had been a British subject once must always be. Then some of the lead- 
 ers in Congress declared that we were having a peace that was like war, 
 and roused the nation to a second resistance against royal tyranny. 
 
 HURRIED AWAY TO JOIN THE NAVY. 
 
 War was declared against Great Britain June i8, 1812, and although 
 the news reached Perry soon after his wedding-day, he hastened to Wash- 
 ington and asked for a place in the navy. He was promised the first one 
 that could be prepared for an officer of his rank. Our navy was then in 
 a very good condition ; we had a number of new vessels and a valiant 
 corps of marines. Perry was soon put in command of a flotilla to defend 
 Newport. His rank was now master commandant, a good post ; but there 
 was little to be done here, and Perry was very anxious to be in the thick- 
 est of the fight. So, in the next February, he was ordered to Lake Erie 
 to build two brigs and take command of a fleet to engage the British ves- 
 sels already on the lake. 
 
 Before his vessels were ready he was invited to assist Commodore 
 Chauncey in making an attack on Fort George, on Lake Ontario, at the 
 mouth of Niagara River. His little boat arrived at the commodore's ship 
 just before the battle. He struck in at once, and, seeing that the order of 
 the battle had been very poorly planned, his great desire was to fill up the 
 gaps. He seemed to be everywhere just when needed, in fighting, in 
 directing attacks, and in inspiring the men. The British were success- 
 fully driven out, and in the pride of his victory, Commodore Chauncey did 
 not hesitate to say that it was largely Captain Perry's work that had won 
 the day. 
 
 Before long the new squadron was finished and equipped, and lay, 
 ready for action, in Put-in-Bay. Soon the expected enemy was sighted 
 near the town of Sandusky. There were six vessels with a fighting force 
 of over sixty guns and five hundred men. Perry with his nine vessels 
 had about the same number of men, but only fifty-four guns, whose range 
 was much shorter than the British cannon. 
 
 When they met, this gave the English the advantage for awhile, and 
 Perry's flag-ship was badly damaged. He was obliged to leave it, and in 
 
108 COMMODORE PERRY. 
 
 tHe thick of tlie fight, with smoke of powder filling the air, and shots 
 flying all about him, he took an open boat to the Niagara, half a mile 
 away. Then, with all the smaller vessels close together, he bore down 
 upon the British, opening a fire that in seven minutes compelled the sur- 
 render of their flag-ship, which was quickly followed by three more. The 
 other two tried to run away, but were overtaken and captured in a little 
 over an hour. 
 
 This closed the battle of Lake Erie, for which the loth of October, 
 1813, will always be a memorable date in American history. It was a 
 brilliant victory. That three hours of fighting cleared the Northwest of 
 a powerful branch of the enemy's forces. As soon as the conflict wa.v 
 decided, Perry seized a scrap of paper, and, resting it on his hat, wrote U\ 
 headquarters : " We have met the enemy, and they are ours — two ships,, 
 two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop." 
 
 GOLD MEDALS FOR THE VICTORS. 
 
 This victory was of great importance ; it gave the Americans com" 
 plete control of the lakes and was the chief step toward closing the war in 
 the West. Congress was delighted with the conquest. Perry and Elliot, 
 one of his officers, were rewarded with gold medals, while other honors 
 were bestowed upon some of the lesser officers who had shown specially 
 gallant conduct. 
 
 After the British were driven out of the West, and the war in that 
 section drew to a close, Perry was given another command in the South, 
 upon the Java, a new frigate just finished at Baltimore. But this was 
 shut up in the bay by a British squadron, which finally began to ascend 
 the Potomac. Perry was instantly called to take charge of a fort and fire 
 upon them as they passed. But they had a good place and kept it, hem- 
 ming in the Java, while her commander employed his time fitting out 
 other ships, until the war was over. 
 
 In the Algeria trouble, which had to be settled as soon as the treaty 
 
 with England was signed. Perry, in the Java, followed Decatur to the 
 
 y Mediterranean, where he helped the gallant hero of the Tripolitan War to 
 
 force the rest of the Barbary pirates to promise to let American ships 
 
 alone without being paid for it. 
 
 Among the many deeds of Perry's noble-heartedness and courage, 
 there is one that occurred after his return from the Mediterranean, which 
 filled his countrymen with greater admiration than even the victory of 
 
COMMODORE PBRRY. 10© 
 
 Lake Erie, there lie had his country's freedom and his own glory to spur 
 him on. But this deed was only in answer to a call of duty, which many 
 men would never have heard. His vessel lay in Newport Harbor in the 
 winter of 1818. One bitterly cold night, during a fearful storm, word was 
 brought that a merchant vessel had been driven on a reef, six miles away . 
 As soon as Perry heard it, he called out to his men to man his barge, 
 and, in that inspiring voice which had so often cheered the battle ranks 
 when hope was wavering, rang out the shout, " Come, my boys, we are 
 going to the relief of shipwrecked seamen ; pull away I " Out in the face 
 of the bitter storm and over the surging sea they went. They made 
 toward the reef, and found a quarter-deck of the wreck floating upon the 
 angry waves, with eleven half-dead men clinging to her timbers. The 
 poor fellows were rescued and taken back to care, to comfort, and to life. 
 
 STRICKEN DOWN BY YELLOW FEVER. 
 
 The pirates of the Barbary States were not the only robbers that 
 harassed American ships. There was a swarm of them in the West India 
 seas that annoyed and even injured our commerce very seriously, and in 
 the spring Perry was put in command of a squadron and ordered to whip 
 the troublesome thieves, and then go to the Caribbean Sea and pay the 
 respects of his nation to the new republics along the coast. He reached 
 the South, but had only been there a short time, and had not yet fulfilled 
 his commission before he died of the yellow fever, which was then spread- 
 ing through his squadron. 
 
 Oliver H. Perry was bom at South Kingston, Rhode Island, August 
 23, 1785; he died on his thirty-fourth birthday, 1819, on board the John 
 Adams, just as she was entering the harbor of Port Spain, in the West 
 India island of Trinidad. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where are the Barbary States ? On what ship did Perry serve as 
 midshipman ? What rank did his father hold ? At the outbreak of our 
 second war with England, to what service was Perry assigned ? What 
 prize did he capture from the English ? Why did we have war with 
 Great Britain in 181 2? Describe the battle of Lake Erie. What gallant 
 feat did Perry perform in the midst of the battle ? What noble deed did 
 he perform in Newport Harbor? Where and when was he born, and 
 where and when did he die ? 
 
THE TRICK JACK DAVIS PLAYED ON A 
 BRITISH OFFICER. 
 
 PICNIC liad been arranged by the young people, and 
 Uncle Frank was to go with them. He consented to 
 do this on condition that he should have time to give 
 them another story from which they might learn a 
 lesson in American history. 
 
 After the lunch dishes and baskets had been put 
 away, all seated themselves in a cool nook on the 
 edge of a beautiful grove and Uncle Frank said he 
 would tell them of a shrewd old countryman in South 
 Carolina during the War of the Revolution. 
 
 About the last of December, 1779, Sir Henry Clinton,^ the British 
 General, leaving a strong garrison to hold New York, sailed South, with 
 the greater part of his army. He proceeded first to Savannah, and then 
 moved northward, for the purpose of besieging Charleston. General 
 Lincoln, who had command of the American forces in that district, ex- 
 erted himself with energy to fortify that city. Four thousand citizens 
 enrolled themselves to assist the regular garrison in the defence, but only 
 two hundred militia from the interior responded to Lincoln's call for aid. 
 Reinforcements were received from Virginia and North Carolina, and 
 Lincoln was able to muster seven thousand men^ of whom but two thou- 
 sand were regular troops. 
 
 In February, 1780, the British landed at St. John's Island, about 
 thirty miles below Charleston. Clinton advanced towards the city along 
 the banks of the Ashley, while the fleet sailed around to force an entrance 
 into the harbor. 
 
 Charleston was now completely invested, and the siege was pressed 
 with vigor by Clinton. Lincoln's situation became every day more hope- 
 less. The fire of the British artillery destroyed his defences and dis- 
 mounted his cannon, and, as he was entirely cut off from the country, he 
 had no hope of relief from without. On the 9th day of May a terrific fire 
 was opened upon the defences and the city of Charleston. The city was 
 110 
 
JACK DAVIS AND THE BRITISH OFFICER. ^ 
 
 set on fire in five places, and tlie American works were reduced to a mass 
 
 of ruins. ^ ^ . ^ c^- rr 
 
 On the i2tli Lincoln surrendered tlie town and his army to Sir Henry 
 Clinton The prisoners, including every male adult in the city, numbered 
 about six thousand men. The regulars were held as prisoners of war, but 
 the militia were dismissed to their homes, on their promise not to serve 
 
 aerain during the war. . 
 
 The only resistance kept up by the Americans was mamtamed by 
 the corps of patriots led by Marion, Sumter, and Pickens all famous 
 American fighters. The exploits of these daring bands caused the British 
 commander to feel that he could not hold the Carolinas except by the aid 
 of a strong force, and kept him in a state of constant uneasiness. On the 
 i6th of August Sumter defeated a large body of British and Tones at 
 Hanging Rock, east of the Wateree River. Large numbers of negroes 
 deserted their masters and fled to the British. 
 
 ROVING BANDS OF FIGHTING PATRIOTS. 
 The fighting of Marion and his men was much like that of the wild 
 Indians of the southwest. When hotly pursued by the enemy his com- 
 mand would break up into small parties, and these, as they were hard 
 pressed, would divide again, until nearly every patriot was fleeing alone. 
 There could be no successful pursuit, therefore, since the division of the 
 pursuing party weakened it too much. The British Colonel Tarlton was 
 trying to break up these bands of American soldiers. 
 
 "We will give fifty pounds to get within reach of the scamps that 
 galloped by here, just ahead of us," exclaimed a lieutenant of Tarlton's 
 cavalry, as he and the three other troopers drew up before a farmer, who 
 was hoeing in the field by the roadside. 
 
 The farmer looked up, leaning on his hoe, took off his old hat, and 
 mopping his forehead with his handkerchief, looked at the angry soldiers, 
 and in a don't-care manner said : . . . -u 
 
 " Fifty pounds is a big lot of money." In our money it is two hun- 
 dred dollars. _ , . 
 
 " So it is in these times, but we will give it to you m gold, if you 11 
 show us where we can get a chance at that rebel ; did you see him ? " 
 
 "He was all alone, wasn't he ? And he was mounted on a black 
 horse with a white star in his forehead, and he was going like a streak of 
 lightning, wasn't he?" 
 
112 
 
 XARI.SX0N'S I^ISUXltNANT^ANDjIHS FARM^iL, 
 
o 
 
 C5 
 
 PQ 
 
 O 
 
 i-q 
 Eh 
 Eh 
 < 
 PQ 
 
m 
 
 THE BALLOON USED IN MODERN WARFARE 
 
^ ^^^^2^e^.;:^ 
 
P 
 
 I— i 
 
 CO 
 OD 
 O 
 
 o 
 o 
 
 Eh 
 
 I— i 
 
 w 
 
JACK DAVIS AND THE BRITISH OFFICER. 113 
 
 " That's tHe fellow ! " exclaimed the questioner, hoping that they were 
 about to get the information wanted. 
 
 " It looked to me like Jack Davis, though he went by so fast that I 
 couldn't get a square look at his face, but he was one of Marion's men, 
 and if I ain't greatly mistaken it was Jack Davis himself." 
 
 Then looking up at the four British horsemen, the farmer added, 
 with a quizzical expression : 
 
 "I reckon that ere Jack Davis has hit you chaps pretty hard this 
 time, ain't he ? '' 
 
 " Never mind about that^^'' replied the lieutenant ; " what we want to 
 know is where we can get a chance at him for just about five minutes. 
 He has been in our camp, robbing and stealing like a pirate ; two men 
 grabbed him, but he knocked down one, killed the other, ran to his horse, 
 and away he went. He had his au.mal in the woods close by, but it was 
 ,such a poor looking brute that we felt sure of catching him. But we've 
 ridden hard for two hours and are further off than when we started. His 
 horse seemed to be tired, and I've an idea that he may be hiding some- 
 where around here." 
 
 The farmer put his cotton handkerchief inco his hat, which he now 
 Silowly replaced, and shook his head . 
 
 " I don't think he's hiding round here,'' he said ; " when he shot by 
 Jack was going so fast that he didn't look as if he could stop under four 
 or five miles. Strangers, I'd like powerful well to earn that fifty pounds, 
 but I don't think you'll get a chance to squander it on me." 
 
 MOUNTED HIS HORSE AND WAS OFF. 
 
 After some further questioning, the lieutenant and his men wheeled 
 their horses and trotted back toward the main body of Tarleton's cavalry. 
 The farmer plied his hoe for several minutes, gradually working his way 
 towards the stretch of woods some fifty feet from the roadside. Reaching 
 the margin of the field, he stepped in among the trees, hastily took off his 
 clothing, tied it up in a bundle, shoved it under a flat rock from beneath 
 which he drew a suit no better in quality, but showing a faint likeness to 
 a uniform. Putting it on and then plunging still deeper into the woods 
 \\\\ soon reached a dimly-marked track, which he followed only a short 
 distance, when a gentle whinney fell upon his ear. 
 
 The next moment he vaulted on the back of a bony but blooded horse, 
 \iarked by a beautiful star in his forehead. The satin skin of the steed 
 
 a 
 
114 ROBERT MORRIS. 
 
 shone as though he had been traveling hard, and his rider allowed him to 
 walk along the path for a couple of miles, when he entered an open space 
 where, near a spring, Francis Marion and fully two hundred men were 
 encamped. They were eating, smoking and chatting as though no such 
 a horror as war was known. 
 
 You understand, of course, that the farmer that leaned on his hoe by 
 the roadside and talked to Tarleton's lieutenant about Jack Davis and his 
 exploits was Jack Davis himself. 
 
 He was pretty sharp, wasn't he ? said James. 
 
 Yes, said Uncle Frank, and that trick saved his life. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What did the British general do with his army? Who was the 
 American general in the South ? Why was he compelled to surrender 
 Charleston ? Name some of the commanders on the American side. 
 What British officer tried to capture Jack Davis ? Why did he not suc- 
 ceed ? What did Jack Davis do after he left the field where he pretended 
 to be at work ? 
 
 EOBEET MORKIS 
 
 THE GREAT FIIl^ANOIER. 
 
 HERE is a word that I do not know the meaning of, 
 said James, looking thoughtfully up into the face of 
 Uncle Frank. 
 
 Let me guess, said Elsie, who came into the room 
 at that moment. What word is it ? 
 
 Financier, said James. Uncle Frank glanced to- 
 ward Elsie, as if wondering whether she could tell its 
 meaning. 
 ^ *^-yv j^ l^g^g something to do with money, said Elsie, 
 
 and that is all I know about it. 
 
 Yes, said Uncle Frank, and if you will sit down I will tell you of a 
 great financier who helped our country at a time when we were in need. 
 It has been said that our first debt of gratitude for American liberty was 
 due to three men — George Washington as a general, Benjamin Franklin 
 as a statesman, and Robert Morris as a financier. 
 
ROBERT MORRIS. 
 
 115 
 
 the first two were great in many ways, and have a wide fame in more 
 than one calling, while Morris is celebrated only as a money manager. 
 But in the use of his one talent and in the giving of his one vast gift he 
 saved his adopted country from ruin and the labor of the other patriots 
 from ending in failure. He was an Englishman by birth, but having 
 been brought to this country by his father when he was a boy, he grew 
 up as stanch a patriot as those of the oldest Colonial blood. Very soon he 
 began to show a wonder- 
 ful talent for business. 
 As a lad of fifteen he was 
 put in a Philadelphia 
 counting house , and when 
 he reached the age of 
 twenty he became a part- 
 ner in the firm and com- 
 menced to amass a for- 
 tune. 
 
 By the time the war- 
 cloud with England be- 
 gan to gather he was a 
 very wealthy man, fam- 
 ous for his honesty and 
 ability. No firm in Penn- 
 sylvania — then one of the 
 most important and weal- 
 thy of all the Colonies — 
 did a larger business than 
 that of Willing & Morris. 
 But when the troubles 
 thickened with England, 
 he boldly sided with the patriots, and sacrificed a great deal of trade for 
 the sake of principle, for his house was then doing a large and profitable 
 business with the mother country. 
 
 Ten years later he was a member of the Continental Congress, and 
 although, like many others, he felt that the time had not yet come to 
 adopt it, he signed the Declaration of Independence. For several years 
 after, he served on the Committee of Ways and Means, and by his careful 
 management and judicious advice upon money matters was of the greatest 
 
 ROBERT MORRIS. 
 
116 
 
 ROBERT MORRIS. 
 
 
 No.. 
 
 service to the cause. When our little Treasury grew low, or was empty, 
 and Congress was very close to failure, lie gave all lie had himself, and 
 borrowed large sums of money on his own credit, or used the honorable 
 name of his firm to obtain funds which would never have been risked to 
 Congress, whose cause seemed very likely to fail anyway. 
 
 But Robert Morris's name was as good as the gold, and when the 
 destitute troops were on the verge of an outbreak among themselves, and 
 Washington was almost in despair, the signature of the honored mer- 
 chant raised fifteen millions of dollars from the French, and made it possi- 
 ble for the Commander to 
 
 carryforward his last cam- 
 paign and force the sur- 
 render of Cornwallis at 
 Yorktown. 
 
 After the war, he was 
 twice a member of the 
 Pennsylvania Legislature 
 and helped to frame the 
 Federal Constitution. He 
 served as a Senator after- 
 ward, and more than once 
 was pressed by Washing- 
 ton to accept the office of 
 Secretary of the Treasury 
 
 Thirty Dollars, 
 
 THE Bearer is en 
 titled to receive Thirty 
 Spanijh inilled D O L 
 , L A R S, or an equal 
 \Sum in Gold or Silver, 
 [according to a Refo- 
 llution of CONGRESS 
 of the 14th fanuary, 
 
 1779- 
 
 LO Dollars. 
 
 ^// 
 
 M^ 
 
 SPECIMEN OF CONTINENTAL CURRENCY. 
 
 in his Cabinet. But he refused this office, and named Alexander Hamil- 
 ton as one better able to fill it than himself 
 
 After his term as Senator was over, he went out of public life with 
 less than half the wealth he had when he entered it. Being still in the 
 prime of life, he entered into business again and built up a large East 
 India trade. In the same year that he resigned the office of financier, he 
 sent the Empress of China from New York to Canton, the first American 
 vessel that ever entered that port. He also marked out a course to China, 
 by which the dangerous winds that swept over the Eastern seas at some 
 seasons of the year might be avoided, and, to prove the wisdom of follow- 
 ing this course, he sent out a vessel that made a successful trip over it. 
 
 After awhile he bought a great deal of land in the western part of 
 
 New York, then the wild frontier. But the investment proved a failure, 
 and Mr. Morris lost about all that he had. The great man who had saved 
 
WILUAM PKNN. 117 
 
 the American armies from mutiny and famine, wlio had redeemed the 
 credit of his State and his adopted country, had made his wealth the na- 
 tion's, and staked his own spotless reputation for her sake, spent his last 
 years in poverty and debt. Neither his country nor his State came for- 
 ward to relieve his distress, although for their needs he had given every, 
 thing he had, excepting his honor — there never was a shadow cast on that, 
 either in public or in private life — and they owed him princely fortunes 
 in debts of gratitude. 
 
 Robert Morris was born in Lancaster, England, June, 1734. He 
 died in Philadelphia, May 8, 1806. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What is the meaning of " financier?" What two other great Amer- 
 icans is Morris compared with ? What was his first situation in business ? 
 When war with England broke out what did he do ? Once when our 
 treasury was very low how did he help our Government ? What did he 
 <^o after the war ? What can you say of his last days ? 
 
 WILLIAM PEl^lSr 
 
 FOILNDEE OF PEKKSYLYAl^IA. 
 
 'EARLY half a century after the settlement of James- 
 town, in Virginia, and about twenty years after the 
 Pilgrims landed, said Uncle Frank, there arose in 
 England a class of people called Quakers. The doc- 
 trines which they believed were so forcibly preached 
 by their leader that many people began to join their 
 society. 
 
 Among these was William Penn, the son of a 
 distinguished admiral in the British Navy. This 
 man — the father — stood in great favor with the King and the Court, and 
 when he heard that his son William — whom he had sent to college and of 
 whom he had expected great things — was turning Quaker, his rage knew 
 no bounds. He declared that no son of his should leave the good and 
 regular Church of England and join a despised sect. Finding that airgu- 
 
lis 
 
 WILLIAM PBNN. 
 
 ment had no effect, lie tried a sound thrashing, and when this, too, failed 
 to change the opinions of the willful son, he turned him out-of-doors. 
 
 William was then eighteen years old. He had been finely educated, 
 was well built and robust, and with a mind strongly inclined to religious 
 thoughts. He already believed so firmly that the doctrines of the Qua- 
 kers were right in the sight of God that nothing could induce him to 
 renounce them. Seeing this, and being begged by his wife to take back 
 
 his harsh words. Admiral Penn 
 sent to his son to come home, 
 where he would be protected from 
 the general Quaker persecution by 
 his father's high standing. 
 
 But his friends in the new re- 
 ligion did not fare so well. All the 
 rest of the society were sorely ill- 
 treated by the rulers. Bven he was 
 arrested while preaching in the 
 streets and imprisoned on a charge 
 of disturbing the peace, although 
 he was soon released as not guilty. 
 After that event his father 
 sent him to France, thinking that 
 the gay company he would have 
 there would cool his religious fer- 
 vor. But it did not do so. He 
 continued to preach and to teach 
 
 WILUAM PENN. 
 
 interested him above all others. He went on his preaching tours through 
 England, Holland and Germany, and in all places he was aroused by the 
 sufferings of the peace-loving Quakers. 
 
 They were fined, robbed, imprisoned and ill-treated in many other 
 ways, all on account of their beliefs. While Penn was studying how to 
 procure relief for them, George Fox, the great leader of the Quakers, 
 begged him to do something for those in Lord Baltimore's colony in 
 America. This led him to think of the New World as a place of refuge 
 for all of them. 
 
 The King had become indebted to Penn's father — who was now dead 
 —for a large sum of money. Penn went to him and asked him to pay the 
 
WII/LIAM PENN. 
 
 119 
 
 iebt by granting bim a tract of land in America. After awhile tlie king 
 ugreed to do so, and made over to Penn about forty-tbousand acres of ter- 
 ritory nortb of Virginia, wbicb was already settled by a number of Quaker 
 refugees. Tbe only claim reserved by the King was that be should 
 receive a payment of two beaver skins every year. 
 
 TREK UNDKR WHICH PENN SIGNED HIS TREATY WITH THE INDIANS. 
 
 Now, at last, Penn had a refuge for the followers of the Quaker reli- 
 gion, and a large number of them were soon persuaded to leave their 
 unhappy homes in Europe and form a colony in the New World. He 
 wished to name the country New Wales, but the King insisted upon call- 
 ing it Pennsylvania — not in honor of William, as many people think, but 
 of his father, who was a friend of the King. In February of the next 
 year Penn with eleven other men bought East New Jersey, which was 
 then a flourishing colony, and in September he sailed for his new posses- 
 sions, where he was cordially welcomed by the Friends already there. He 
 had made out a form of government and laws for the colony before leaving 
 England, and his first work was to make peace with the Indians. 
 
120 
 
 WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 He and tlie other leaders iu tlie colony met a large company of tlie 
 red men under a great elm-tree by the side of the Delaware, and all 
 agreed that they would live on terms of peace and friendliness for each 
 other as long as "creeks and rivers run, and while the sun, moon, and 
 stars endure." No oaths were made, nor long articles of agreement drawn 
 up, yet the bond was never violated, "the only treaty in history that was 
 never sworn to and never broken." 
 
 INDIANS LIVED IN PEACE WITH THE QUAKERS. 
 
 The Indians always remembered the great " Mignon," as they called 
 Penn, and each generation told their children of his justice and goodness. 
 They butchered and scalped and burned the dwellings of other settlers, but 
 the peace-loving, drab-coated Quakers were never disturbed. On the 
 
 banks of the Delaware, in the outskirts of 
 \ Philadelphia, stands a monument erected in 
 *^ honor of this treaty, 
 
 Penn's next work was to provide for .-a 
 capital city, where the seat of the colonial 
 government might be made. He purchased 
 the necessary land of the Swedes, who had 
 bought it of the Indians, and named it 
 Philadelphia — the City of Brotherly Love 
 — hoping that the inhabitants would always 
 carry out the spirit of its name. 
 
 When the government of the colony 
 TREATY MONUMENT. ^as Settled in good order Penn returned to 
 
 England. Here he found that during his absence his Quaker brethren 
 had been very badly used. He went to the King and obtained a promise 
 that the persecution should be stopped at once, and it was, in a great 
 measure. 
 
 A few months afterward Charles II. died, and James II. took the 
 throne. He and Penn were intimate friends, and much of their time was 
 passed together. Penn was known to have so much influence with King 
 James that people crowded to his house to beg him to ask royal favors for 
 them. At that time there were many people shut up in the prisons of 
 England because their religious beliefs differed from that of the Estab- 
 lished Church of England ; and one of the good causes Penn won was to 
 have these people set free. Among them were twelve hundred Quakers. 
 
WILLIAM PENN. 121 
 
 It was ten years "before lie went back to liis colony in America. Dur- 
 ing this time James II was deposed and William of Orange was placed 
 on the throne ; and Penn, as the friend of the former King, was accused 
 of treason and put in prison ; and although he was soon acquitted, his 
 liberty did not last long, for a new charge was raised against him, and he 
 was obliged to keep out of the way of his enemies, and also to lose many 
 of his former friends. In the midst of this trouble his wife died, and he 
 was deprived of the government of his colony in America. These were 
 dark days, but he spent them profitably, writing books 
 for the comfort and defence of the Friends, and devising 
 means of helping the colonists in Pennsylvania out of the 
 troubles that had come upon them through bad manage- 
 ment during his long absence. 
 
 At last his accusers lost their influence with the 
 King; he was again made governor of his colony, and, 
 after attending to various business matters and church 
 interests, he embarked once more for America. He found 
 affairs in Pennsylvania in a very bad state. Ill-feeling 
 had grown up between the Quakers and other members . ^ 
 of the colony, and many other matters had gone wrong. ^c^.^^- 
 
 He set about instituting a better government at once, penn's clock. 
 and began looking after the condition of the negro slaves and the Indians 
 within the colony. Another treaty was made with the red men, presents 
 were exchanged with them, and they agreed to look to the King of Eng- 
 land as their protector. 
 
 GAVE A CHARTER TO PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 While thus occupied in making better the condition of all the people 
 in the colony, Penn heard that there was talk in England of taking it 
 away from him and returning it to the crown, so he had to hurry back 
 and attend to the matter. His last act before leaving America — for what 
 proved to be the last time — ^was to give a charter to the city of Philadelphia. 
 
 Soon after Penn's arrival in England, the King decided not to take 
 possession of the colony ; but other trouble came up, more dissensions 
 among the settlers, and more persecutions for the Quakers in their native 
 land, so that the last days of the peace-loving old man were filled with 
 tidings of strife, where he had labored most for harmony. 
 
 His own life, too, was filled with grief in his last years. Unfaithful 
 
122 
 
 WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 agents had so badly managed his property that his fortune was lost and 
 he was put in prison because he would not pay these agents some unreason- 
 able sums that they claimed to be due them. He had some good friends, 
 though, who secured his release. Then he asked the Legislature of 
 Pennsylvania to loan him some money to help him out of his difficulties, 
 but they refused. This was one of the greatest sorrows of his life, for he 
 
 had given his work, his time, and a great 
 deal of money to help the colonists in 
 many ways ; and now that he was old 
 and in distress their ingratitude almost 
 broke his heart. 
 
 The Letitia House, in 
 which Penn resided in 
 ! Philadelphia, formerly 
 stood in Letitia Street, 
 near Second and Market, 
 and was named after his 
 daughter Letitia. It was . 
 taken down, removed to 
 Fairmount Park, and put 
 up again, just as it was 
 
 PENN'S (I.ETITIA) HOUSK. £^3^ ^^^-^^^ 
 
 William Penn was born in London, England, October 14, 1644. He 
 died at Ruscombe, Berkshire, England, July 30, 1 718. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 To what sect did William Penn belong ? How did his father treat 
 him ? What brought him to America ? What about the treaty he made 
 with the Indians ? Where was this treaty made ? What was the feeling 
 of the Indians toward him ? What troubles did he have with the English 
 Government ? What became of the house he lived in ? Where and when 
 was he born ? Where and when did he die ? 
 
HENEY CLAY 
 
 THE CELEBRATED ORATOR 
 
 LSIH tad been reading from a library book tbat bad 
 pictures of famous orators, one of them being Henry 
 Clay. You promised, sbe said to Uncle Frank, to 
 tell us about bim, and perhaps you will do it now. 
 
 It would give me great pleasure to do so, replied 
 Uncle Frank, as he took off his spectacles and laid 
 them on the settee where they were sitting. 
 
 Henry Clay, he said, one of America's greatest 
 orators, was born in a low, swampy district in Vir- 
 ginia, called the '' Slashes." He began his education at a log-cabin 
 school-house in Hanover County, His father died when he was about 
 five years old, leaving a large family and scarcely anything to support 
 them, so it was Clay's duty to work, more than to study, even while he 
 was very young. He did chores, helped on the farming and carried grain 
 to the mill. This is why he was called the " Mill-boy of the Slashes." 
 
 WAS ABLE TO LOOK OUT FOR HIMSELF. 
 
 When fourteen years old he went into a store in Richmond, from 
 which he was taken into the office of the Clerk of the Court of Chancery. 
 He was an awkward boy then, and the other lads in the office made fun 
 of him. But they found out, that he was able to take his own part, and 
 that it was better to have Henry Clay for a friend than anenemy. 
 
 His work was mostly dull copying, but he gathered from it all the 
 knowledge and hints about law that he could, and so pleased the Chancel- 
 lor that he asked him to become his private secretary. The Chancellor 
 was a very industrious and painstaking man, not only in studying law, 
 but in gathering general knowledge. His secretary was just the sort of 
 an energetic, studious fellow he liked, so he talked with him and taught 
 him a great deal, and always found him glad to learn. 
 
 In a little while Clay began to read law, and did it so earnestly and 
 thoroughly that he was able to practice before he was twenty-one. 
 
 123 
 
124 
 
 HENRY CIrAY. 
 
 Althougli lie was brigHt and winning in his manners, lie did not seek gay, 
 lively young people for liis companions ; most of his time was given to 
 work, but lie bad a few well-cbosen young friends, and never lost a cbance 
 to be with good men and women from wbom be could learn wisdom in 
 knowledge and character. 
 
 The year in which Henry Clay was admitted to the bar, there were a 
 great many people moving westward to settle the fertile valleys of Ken- 
 tucky. The young lawyer thought this would be a good chance for him 
 to build up a fine practice, and so he became a citizen of Lexington. He 
 
 was very poor at first, but what- 
 ever he undertook was so well 
 done that he soon became widely 
 known and had plenty of busi- 
 ness. In a few years he married 
 a Kentucky lady, and began to 
 take an active part in politics 
 on the side of the newly-formed 
 Republican part}'-, led by Thom- 
 as Jefferson, and opposed to the 
 Federal party, led by Alexander 
 Hamilton. 
 
 About this time the people 
 of Kentucky were making over 
 their Constitution, and Clay 
 worked so zealously to have 
 slavery put out of the State that 
 he lost a great deal of his popu- 
 HENRY CLAY. larity, for Kentucky had large 
 
 interests in slave labor. But he came back into favor again, and in 1803 
 he was elected to the Kentucky Legislature by a large vote. He was 
 among the foremost men of his State, and was soon sent to the United 
 States Senate to finish out the term of a man who had retired. In about 
 three years more he was returned by regular election, and after that term 
 was over he became a member of the House of Representatives in Wash- 
 ington, where he was elected speaker after a few months. 
 
 These were in the early years of this century, when troubles were 
 thickening between England and America for a second time. Clay's 
 stand was decidedly in favor of letting the war come on. He strongly 
 
HENRY CI^AY. 125 
 
 denounced England's claim of right to search onr vessels on tlie liigli seas 
 and take away our sailors because they had once been British subjects, 
 and he declared that we should hold to our rights as a nation at whatever 
 cost. , 
 
 But he was not a lover of strife, and when Russia offered, as a friend 
 to both countries, to help arrange some terms of peace, " Harry of the 
 West," as Clay was called, was thought to be a wise person to put upon 
 the committee for the United States. With four other commissioners, he 
 went to Ghent, in Belgium, where a treaty was agreed upon the day 
 before Christmas, 1814. This treaty, ended the war, and by Clay's careful 
 management was made favorable to the United States in many ways. 
 
 MANY YEARS SPEAKER OF THE HOUSE. 
 
 On coming back to America he was at once re-elected to Congress 
 and to the Speakership, which post he held thirteen years altogether. 
 There was a powerful order and a charming dignity in the way in which 
 'he presided over the restless and excitable body of Representatives, whose 
 sessions are so different from the calm and sedate meetings of the Senate ; 
 ■Hud during all the time not one of his decisions was reversed. 
 
 When Clay was Speaker of the House and before John Quincy 
 iVdams was President, he was chief supporter of the famous Missouri 
 Compromise. This was in 1821, when a long and bitter struggle took 
 'iilace between the pro-slavery and anti-slavery parties over the admission 
 of Missouri into the Union. The Compromise admitted Missouri as a 
 tdave State, but forbid slavery in the Territories north of a certain lati- 
 tude. Mason and Dixon's Line, as it has been called since then. The dis- 
 putes that had been constantly going on between the North and South ^ 
 and grown very hot of late, were settled by this measure for about twenty- 
 five years. 
 
 After this Mr. Clay was out of politics for a short time, attending to 
 his profession and earning money to cover some large private losses he 
 had had. But in 1823 ^^ returned and was elected Speaker once more by 
 a large vote. It was during this session that Webster made his famous 
 resolutions in behalf of the Greeks suffering from the tyranny of the 
 Turks, which Clay most heartily supported. 
 
 Southerner as he was, Henry Clay was also a firm Union man. In 
 one of his speeches he said he owed his first and great duty to the whole 
 Union, and under that and after it came the claims of his State. He was 
 
126 HKNRY CLAY. 
 
 strongly in favor of gradually putting down slavery ; but, as a celebrated 
 writer has said, compromises can only be made upon measures, not witb 
 principles, and so the most that they could eflfect was to keep ofif the day 
 of outbreak. Meanwhile the evil was going on, both parties were strength- 
 ening, and the opposition growing deeper and more bitter all the while. 
 
 In 1833, when Jackson was nominated a second time for the Presi- 
 dency, Clay ran against him, but was defeated. 
 ^ From the time he ran against Jackson his party was always wanting 
 
 ' to make him President. Once he declined and twice he yielded, but he 
 was never elected. In the campaign when the Democrats elected Polk, 
 he was earnestly opposed to adding Texas to the United States, and de- 
 clared that no earthly power would ever induce him to consent to the 
 addition of one acre of slave territory to the United States. But the 
 measure was carried by Calhoun, who took the office of Secretary of State 
 long enough to accomplish it, and then returned to the Senate, where he 
 was laboring zealously for the interests of the South. 
 
 GREATLY ADMIRED BY YOUNG MEN. 
 
 Clay was now an old man, but his courteous manner and personal 
 magnetism still won new friends as they kept the old ones, and his match- 
 less voice, sweeping gestures, and splendid attitudes were still admired 
 by the younger men in both House and Senate. 
 
 The last great effort of his life was to secure the series of measures, 
 known in history as the Compromise Act of 1850, and which postponed 
 the conflict between freedom and slavery for ten years more. 
 
 Henry Clay was bom in " The Slashes " of Hanover County, Vir- 
 ginia, April 12, 1777. He died in the city of Washington, June 29, 1852. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where did Clay begin his education ? What name was given him ? 
 What did other lads think of him ? Where did he move in order to 
 practice law ? What offices did he hold in Kentucky and at Washington ? 
 What position did he fill in the House of Representatives ? On what 
 errand was he sent to Belgium ? How long was he Speaker of the House 
 in Washington ? What do you know about the Missouri Compromise ? 
 To what high office did Mr. Clay's friends always wish to elect him? 
 Where and when was he born ? What was the date of his death ? 
 
CHARLES GOODYEAR 
 
 THE REl^OWI^ED E^YENTOR. 
 
 HE morning was wet and the young people wlio liad 
 been in the garden plucking flowers were compelled 
 to put on rubbers. As they came in Uncle Frank 
 reminded them that it cost one man many years of 
 patient study and labor to make such a preparation of 
 India-rubber as would stand both heat and wet. 
 Who was he ? asked Mabel. 
 
 Charles Goodyear, said Uncle Frank, and when 
 you get your rubbers off and are ready to listen, I will 
 tell you his story. His discovery cost him eleven years and a half of the 
 best of his life, and for it he suffered poverty, disgrace for debts, and ridi- 
 cule — sacrifices which were never made up to him, although he lived to 
 see his invention used in five hundred different ways, and giving employ- 
 ment in Europe and the United States to eighty thousand persons, 
 and producing eight million dollars' worth of goods every year. 
 
 HIS YANKEE CURIOSITY. 
 
 Mr. Goodyear at one time was a bankrupt hardware merchant in 
 Philadelphia. He was about thirty-five years old and became interested 
 with about everybody else in the wonderful trade of the many India- 
 rubber companies that were making great quantities of goods of many 
 kinds. Being in New York, one day, he bought one of the new India- 
 rubber life-preservers that the Roxbury Company had just brought out. 
 He took it hom^, and true to his Connecticut birth, began to examine it 
 for the sake of seeing how it was made and if he could improve on it. 
 He soon made up his mind on both these questions, and before long he 
 was again at the Roxbury 's office with a plan, which he wanted them to 
 ♦ adopt. The company was not able to make these improved goods, but the 
 man in charge saw Mr. Goodyear's plan, and said to him : 
 
 " There are, Mr. Goodyear, a great many India-rubber companies in 
 the United States just now that seem to be doing a very fine business, but 
 
 127 
 
128 
 
 CHARLES GOODYEAR. 
 
 really and truly they are not. They are all a good deal like our com- 
 pany ; we made, during the cool months of 1833 and 1834, a very large 
 quantity of shoes and other rubber goods, and sold them to dealers at 
 high prices ; but in the summer a great many of them melted, so that 
 twenty thousand dollars' worth of our articles were returned to us melted 
 /^own in common gum that smelt so badly we had to bury it. 
 
 " We've tried mixing new materials with the raw rubber, and new 
 
 GOODYEAR ACCIDENTALIyY MAKING HIS GREAT DISCOVERY. 
 
 machinery, but even if our shoes can bear the heat one summer, they will 
 melt the next. Wagon-covers, overcoats, hats, and rubber-cloth grow 
 sticky in the sun and stiff in the cold. The directors of the company 
 don't know what to do. They'll be ruined if they stop making, and the 
 •vhole of the winter's work may melt on their hands as soon as warm 
 weather comes. 
 
 *' The capital of this company is already used up, and unless the true 
 way to use this gum is found— and that soon— the company will have to 
 
CHARLES GOODYEAR. 
 
 129 
 
 go down in complete ruin. Now, while the gentlemen cannot take this 
 improved life-preserver of yours, if you can only find out some way to 
 make India-rubber that will stand the summer heat and the winter cold, 
 they will gladly give almost anything you ask for that." 
 
 It seemed like a chance talk, but it fixed the life-work of Charles 
 Goodyear. He made up his mind — or rather the thought grew in him 
 like a presentiment — that this great object could be gained, and he should 
 do it ; and yet he knew little about chemistry, and had no money to start 
 with. Owing to the 
 failure of some busi- 
 ness houses with 
 which his father's 
 firm was connected, 
 the hardware house 
 of A. Goodyear & 
 Sons was bankrupt, 
 and Charles was ar- 
 rested for debt almost 
 as soon as he reached 
 home. He had a 
 family, was in rather 
 poor health, and so 
 seemedto have every people on the street ridiculing goodyear. 
 reason to give up his idea about India-rubber, and to find some paying 
 work at once. 
 
 But nothing could change his mind or discourage him. Living 
 within the prison limits, he began his experiments, for India-rubber was 
 one of the easiest things in the world to obtain in those days. It was 
 blind work, and success was long in coming. He was seldom out of jail 
 for debt during any year from 1835 ^^ ^^41? ^^^ although the interest and 
 the aid of friends gave out, he patiently kept on in his trials, never being 
 too sure, however near he felt to success, and never becoming altogether 
 discouraged when his beautiful work melted with the summer's heat into 
 a soft, bad-smelling mass of gum. He explained his difilculties to the 
 great professors, physicians, and chemists of the day, but none of them 
 could help him. 
 
 Finally, in the spring of 1839, he made a discovery that was the key 
 to his success. Standing one day before a stove in a store at Woburn, 
 9 
 
180 CHARLES GOODYEAR. 
 
 Massaciiussets, lie was explaining to some acquaintances a piece of sul- 
 pliiir-cured India-rubber whicli lie held in liis band. Tbey listened to 
 bim good naturedly, but witbout putting any faitb in wbat he said, wben 
 suddenly be dropped tbe rubber on tbe stove, wbicb was red bot. His 
 I old clotbes would have melted instantly from contact witb sucb beat ; but 
 to bis surprise, tbis piece underwent no sucb cbange. In amazement, be 
 examined it, and found tbat wbile it bad cbarred or sbriveled, like leatber, 
 it bad not softened at all. 
 
 Tbe bystanders attached no importance to tbis phenomenon, but to 
 bim it was a revelation. He renewed his experiments with enthusiasm, 
 and in a little while established the facts that India-rubber, when mixed 
 with sulphur and exposed to a certain degree of heat for a certain time, 
 would not melt or even soften at any degree of heat, that it would only 
 char at a very great heat, and that it would not stiffen from exposure to 
 any degree of cold. Tbe difficulty now consisted in finding out the exact 
 degree of beat necessary for the perfection of the rubber, and tbe exact 
 length of time required for the heating. 
 
 He had already suffered poverty, ridicule, and imprisonment for debt, 
 had sometimes gone hungry, but could not rid himself of the idea that he 
 was to make a great discovery. Tbe trouble was to convince others of 
 this and make them believe as he did. Now, he felt sure be had suc- 
 ceeded after years of privation, having at times even been laughed at by 
 people in the street, who called him crazy. 
 
 IT WAS A LUCKY DISCOVERY. 
 
 He tested bis new discovery and tried it in various ways, but the 
 result was the same ; be had succeeded at last, and he now knew for a 
 surety tbat gum and sulphur mixed and put under great beat would 
 afterward stand both heat and cold. He felt himself amply repaid for tbe 
 past, he said, and quite indifferent about the future. 
 
 He spent six years more in the hardest trials and severest labors of 
 all, working this discovery out to a practical success, and patiently per- 
 fecting one thing after another until he had bis inventions secured by 
 sixty patents. But even then he was not allowed his full reward, for tbe 
 rights were obtained by other persons in England and France, and his 
 years of toil and bardship brought him only scant return in money. 
 
 But be was happy that he had been successful, because the work and 
 not tbe reward was what be labored for. Tbe world acknowledged his 
 
FRANCES WILLARD. 
 
 181 
 
 services, and awarded him honors for his skill and perseverance. Highly 
 as he thought of the value of his discovery, he did not overestimate it. 
 " Art, science, and humanity are indebted to him for a material which is 
 useful to them all, and serves them as no other known material could." 
 
 Mr. Goodyear was born in New Haven, Connecticut, December 29, 
 1800. He died in New York City, July i, i860. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 How many years was Goodyear in making his discovery ? What 
 can you say of his perseverance ? What was the trouble with the India- 
 rubber before he invented his process ? How did he make the great dis- 
 covery which was the key to his success ? Before this what did people 
 think of him and what did they call him ? How many patents did he 
 obtain for his discovery ? Was he allowed to reap the full benefit of his 
 invention ? Where was he born, and when and where did he die ? 
 
 j?^ 
 
 fea:^ces willakd 
 
 AND HER NOBLE WOREl. 
 
 S^ 
 
 j<I OT all great Americans are men, said Blsie. Some of 
 ■^i^^^^^^^ them are women, and I think our country ought to 
 be proud of them. 
 
 We certainly ought to be proud of one I have in 
 mind, said Uncle Frank. 
 
 Who is that ? James asked. 
 I mean Miss Frances Willard, said Uncle Frank. 
 In every walk of life where it is possible for 
 woman to display her talents, her success was very 
 great. Our country has every reason to be proud of 
 those members of the gentler sex who have become well-known authors 
 and have been successful in business, in works of reform, and whose in 
 fluence has always been upon the side of good morals, higher education, 
 and the noblest womanhood. 
 
 One of our best-known American women was Miss Willard. She 
 had fine talents, a warm and earnest spirit, untiring energy, the ability 
 
132 
 
 FRANCES WILLARD. 
 
 to influence others, and seemed to be lacking in nothing that any woman 
 needs to make her a power for good. 
 
 Miss Willard was known throughout the country for her devotion to 
 the cause of reform, especially that branch of it embraced in Temperance 
 work. She attended meetings and conventions, lectured in every part of 
 the land, and was always received with the attention due to her noble 
 character and the worth}'' objects she sought to promote. She was elo- 
 quent in the best sense of the term, very fluent in speech, possessed of 
 unusual tact, and was heard by multitudes, who were in the habit of say- 
 ing that the}' " do not care to hear a woman speak in public." 
 
 She was bom in Churchville, 
 N. Y., September 28, 1839, and was 
 educated at Milwaukee and the 
 Northwestern Female College at 
 Kvanston, 111., from which she grad- 
 uated in 1859. She became Profes- 
 sor of Natural Science there in 1862, 
 and was principal of Genesee Wes- 
 leyan Seminary in i866-'67. 
 
 Considering that no person's 
 education is complete without those 
 advantages furnished by travel and 
 contact \vith the world, she spent 
 two years abroad, and then returned 
 to become Professor of ^^sthetics in 
 Northwestern University and Dean 
 of the Woman's College. This place 
 she filled from 187 1 to 1874, and 
 there worked out her system of self-government, which has attracted wide 
 attention and has been adopted by other educators. She became con- 
 \dnced at this time that there was a work for her to do in connection with 
 the cause of Temperance. 
 
 In consequence of this decision she gave up all her engagements in 
 1874 to connect herself ^^-ith the Woman's Christian Temperance Union. 
 She was immediately made corresponding secretary, discharging the 
 duties of this office until 1879, when she was elevated from the position 
 of secretary to that of president. 
 
 In 1876 she assisted Dwight L. Moody in his evangelistic work and 
 
 FRANCES WILLARD. 
 
FRANCES WILLARD. 133 
 
 rendered very important service. During these years slie travelled through, 
 the country, addressing legislatures and people's meetings in behalf of 
 temperance and prohibition. She organized the Home Protection Move- 
 ment, and sent an appeal from nearly two hundred thousand people to the 
 Legislature of Illinois, asking for the Temperance ballot for women. She 
 was always of the opinion that the great reforms needed in America 
 would never be brought about until women were permitted to vote, hav- 
 ing a voice not merely in domestic affairs, but in public measures for the 
 welfare of the community. Some of her hardest work was done in favor 
 of this project. 
 
 On the death of her brother, Oliver A. Willard, in 1879, she suc- 
 ceeded him as chief editor of the Chicago Evening Post, but resigned soon 
 afterward to devote all her time to the work which was dear to her heart, 
 and in which she had exerted a wide and commanding influence. In 
 1886 she accepted the leadership of the White Cross movement in the 
 societies founded by herself, and 'obtained laws in many States for the 
 protection of women. 
 
 HELD OFFICES OF DISTINCTION. 
 
 In 1888 she was made president of the American branch of the Inter- 
 national Council of Women and of the World's Christian Union. In 1892 
 .she visited England, and received an enthusiastic welcome from the 
 friends of reform in that country. She was at the head of the Women's 
 Committee of Temperance Meetings at the World's Fair in 1893. 
 
 Miss Willard died February 17, 1898, and the pulpit and press of 
 the land paid glowing tributes to her and her great work. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What can you say of the success of women in what they undertake ? 
 What were some of Miss Willard' s traits of character ? What cause did she 
 labor especially to promote ? Where was she born and where was she edu- 
 cated ? Where did she first teach ? When did she begin to devote all her 
 time to the cause of temperance ? Of what organization was she made 
 President ? With whom did she labor in evangelistic work ? What 
 can you say of her Home Protection Movement ? What daily paper did 
 she edit for a while? Describe her visit to England in 1892. When did 
 she die ? 
 
ELISHA KENT KANE 
 
 THE ARCTIC EXPLORER. 
 
 HAT a dismal place Greenland must be, said James. 
 The people live in isnow houses there. 
 
 Shall I tell you about the Polar World ? said 
 Uncle Frank, drawing up his easy chair. 
 
 The two girls were anxious to hear about Doctor 
 Kane, who was a famous explorer, and Uncle Frank 
 kindly consented to narrate his story. 
 
 Voyages in the Polar regions of North America 
 began in the first part of the seventeenth century, 
 and from that time to this almost all the important nations of the world 
 have been continually making efforts to reach the pole. From the first, 
 the chief objects were to find water-ways around both continents connect- 
 ing the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans. The Northeast passage between 
 Europe and Asia was successfully made by Russian and Danish expedi- 
 tions ; while the Northwest passage, which was first attempted by Sebas- 
 tian Cabot and the brothers Cortereal, was not actually found until about 
 the year 1845, in the last expedition of Sir John Franklin, who perished 
 before he could make his discovery known. 
 
 KANE'S FIRST POLAR EXPEDITION. 
 
 It was in search of this brave Englishman that the United States 
 undertook its first important Polar expedition, in which our greatest 
 Arctic explorer, Elisha Kent Kane, made his first journey to the Arctic 
 zone. 
 
 The expedition was started by Mr. Henry Grinnell, a wealthy New 
 York merchant, after Lady Franklin's appeal to our government to send 
 out a search party for her lost husband. Mr. Grinnell took up the enter- 
 prise at once. He laid the plans, and offered two vessels, supplies, extra 
 pay to the lien who would volunteer to go, and means for about all the 
 other expenses necessary to carry out the search and to make the expedi- 
 tion of scientific value. Then he used his influence to get Congress to 
 134 
 
ELISHA KENT KANE. 
 
 135 
 
 take charge of it. Volunteer officers were called for from the navy, and at 
 last everytliing was ready and placed in command of Lieutenant De 
 Haven. Dr. Kane was one of tlie under-officers — of no higher rank than 
 assistant surgeon. He was then a young man of thirty years, whose life 
 so far had been a continual fight against ill-health. ' 
 
 Although in the list of officers Dr. Kane started out as nothing more 
 than an assistant surgeon in the Advance, when the expedition returned 
 he had the honor- 
 able record of hav- 
 ing been the most 
 active and able 
 man in the party. 
 Through all their 
 journey — which 
 began on the 2 ad 
 of May, 1850, and 
 did not end until 
 October of the 
 next year — he was 
 a zealous worker, 
 on the watch for 
 the object of their 
 search, and wide- 
 awake to all dis- 
 coveries of the re- 
 gion through 
 which they had 
 passed. 
 
 He kept a dr. elisha kknt kane. 
 
 careful account of what was done, what was seen, and all that happened 
 in each day, records that were afterward published, and made a most valu- 
 able and interesting history of the expedition. Several times during the 
 journey Dr. Kane was very sick, but his great interest in all that was to 
 be seen and done seemed to keep him from breaking down entirely. 
 
 This expedition met some British relief ships in Lancaster Sound and 
 accomplished a journey as far north as a point in Baffin's Bay. They 
 discovered many wonderful and important things about these regions that 
 were before unknown to science, but they did not succeed in finding more 
 
136 EIvISHA KENT KANE. 
 
 than a very few traces of Sir John Franklin — the graves of three of his 
 men, and a cairn or two and a small number of articles which some of 
 them had lost or thrown away. 
 
 This was but small success, but it gave hopes of more, so, a short 
 time after the return, Mr. Grinnell ofifered the use of the Advance for 
 another trip. This was put in charge of Dr. Kane, who had proved him- 
 self one of the greatest men of the first expedition, and able to undertake 
 much more than the duties of an assistant surgeon, great as they were at 
 certain times, and nobly as he filled them. 
 
 PLANS LAID FOR ANOTHER JOURNEY. 
 
 In addition to his other work he had formed a plan by which he 
 thought the search could be made more successful than it had been. He 
 believed from the observations he had made that Greenland extended even 
 farther to the north than the American continent ; he also thought that it 
 was safer to travel by land than by water when it was possible, and that 
 by such a route the parties could keep themselves supplied with food by 
 hunting. 
 
 After his return he spent several months in carefully thinking these 
 plans out, in laying them before prominent people interested in the search 
 for Franklin, and in lecturing about them and what had been seen in the 
 first Grinnell Expedition. In this way he aroused a great deal of enthu- 
 siasm in the project of another journey. Its chief object was to find the 
 Sir John Franklin party, or at least to solve the mystery of their fate — 
 for Dr. Kane still believed that some of the number must be living some- 
 where among the remote Esquimaux villages. 
 
 During all this time Dr. Kane's health was very bad ; and when 
 everything was ready he was hardly able to write to Congress about it ; 
 but he was too courageous to give up, and besides he knew he would be 
 better in the colder climate. 
 
 In this journey, as in the first one. Dr. Kane was historian. He has 
 told us in his " Arctic Explorations " the full story of the expedition. 
 From New York the Advance carried her party directly to Greenland, 
 where their first sight of the cold country of the north was the " broad 
 valleys, deep ravines, mountains, and frowning black and desolate clififs " 
 that burst i'lto view from beneath the dense curtain of a lifting fog. Then, 
 with icebergs in full view around them, like castles in a fairy tale, they 
 worked their Avay along the western coast till they reached Smith's Sound. 
 
BUSHA KENT KANE. 
 
 137 
 
 Sometimes the commander would spend whole days in the " crow's 
 nest " at the top of the mast, looking out for the best course for the vessel, 
 and keenly watching for all of interest to their search. The magnificent 
 views which he saw from this lofty perch are often beautifully described 
 in his book. In one place he says : " The midnight sun came out over 
 the northern crest of the great berg, kindling variously-colored fires on 
 every part of its surface, and making the ice around us one great piece of 
 gem-work, blazing carbuncles and rubies, and molten gold." 
 
 A LIVELY START OF KANE'S SLEDGE EXPEDITION. 
 
 After being tossed and crashed about for some time in the gales of 
 Smith's Sound, it was found impossible to get the Advance through the 
 ice to the shore ; so they left her there, and, fitting up ice-sledges, set out 
 on their search for the lost explorers and also to see if better winter quar- 
 ters could be found for the brig. The commander tells us in his book 
 how both of these errands were in vain, and how they came back and pre- 
 pared to pass the long cold Arctic night in Rensselaer Harbor. 
 
 Their stores and provisions were carried to a storehouse on Butler's 
 Island, and provision depots were also established at intervals further 
 north. This work was finished just as the " long, staring day," which 
 
138 
 
 EUSHA KENT KANE. 
 
 had clung to tliem more than two months, was drawing to a close, and 
 the dark night was beginning to settle down upon them. It was only at 
 midday that they could see to read the figures on the thermometer with- 
 out a light. The hills seemed like huge masses of blackness, with faint 
 patches of light scattered here and there, made by the snow. 
 
 The faithful journal records these days and their doings, relating 
 
 RESCUE OF THE PARTY SENT AHEAD WITH PROVISIONS. 
 
 sorrowfully how the dogs fell sick from the darkness and the cold, and 
 almost all of them died in a sort of insanit}^, ending in lockjaw; and how 
 great the travelers felt this loss when the glimmering light of day told 
 them that spring had come, and the time would soon be for them to go on. 
 The stations which they had begun to set up in the fall were in- 
 tended for provision depots, so that when the explorers went out on their 
 sledge jourt.eys to search for the Franklin party, they would not have to 
 go back to the brig every time they needed supplies. Now, when the 
 first ray of light appeared, Dr. Kane sent out a party with a load of provi- 
 
EUSHA KENT KANE. 139 
 
 sions to establisli another depot still further to tlie north ; but they were 
 overtaken by a gale and lost their way. They would have died if three 
 of the men had not been able to grope their way back to the vessel. 
 Benumbed and exhausted, they stumbled into the brig unable to talk. 
 
 HUDDLED TOGETHER AND BARELY ALIVE. 
 
 But Dr. Kane knew their errand without the aid of words, and hur- 
 ried to the rescue of the others, with the strongest men in the boat. 
 Guided almost by instinct, he soon found them huddled together and 
 barely alive. " We knew you would come," they said ; "we were watch- 
 ing for you." He and his comrades had had a long march to find them, 
 and had taken no sleep meanwhile, so they were suffering themselves by 
 this time ; but they did not stop to rest ; it had to be quick work to save 
 their comrades' lives. They sewed them up in thick bags of skin, then, 
 putting them in the sledges, they started back to the brig. This was a 
 journey of most terrible suflfering from cold, hunger, and sleeplessness. 
 
 After awhile nearly all the men were overcome with drowsiness and 
 grew delirious ; they reeled and stumbled as they walked, and finally one 
 sat down and declared he would sleep before he stirred another step. Dr. 
 Kane let him sleep three minutes and then awakened him, and then 
 another three minutes and awakened him, till he was quite rested. This 
 worked so well that all were allowed a few such short naps before the 
 march was taken up again. But in spite of all their efforts, all but three 
 — Dr. Kane and two others — gave out before they reached the brig. 
 
 These poor fellows stumbled on to the last, so delirious that they 
 could never remember how they finally got to the vessel. There they were 
 at once taken care of and fresh men were sent out after the fallen ones, 
 who were only five miles away. Two of the party that were rescued died 
 from the terrible exposure. All the others got well. 
 
 A few more such attempts and perilous searches were made with ill- 
 success and great sickness, and another winter came and went. Then as 
 the vessel was still so firmly frozen in the ice that it was impossible to 
 get her out. Dr. Kane gave the order to leave her to her fate, and to pre- 
 pare for an overland journey to Upernavik, a whaling station on the west 
 coast of Greenland. This was thirteen hundred miles away- 
 
 Meau while the people at home were watching for news of the expe- 
 dition and when the second winter came on and Dr. Kane did not return, 
 they began to feel anxious, and fitted out a relief expedition to go in search 
 
140 
 
 ELISHA" KENT KANE. 
 
 of him. It left New York at about tlie same time tlie disabled explorers 
 started on tbeir southward journey, and while it was sailing through the 
 open seas of the North Atlantic, Kane and his men were struggling over 
 ice and snow, all other thought lost but that of saving their lives. 
 
 This was the most perilous journey of the whole expedition ; the toil 
 and cold were severe enough, but besides these they had continually to 
 
 START FOR THE PERILOUS JOURNEY HOMEWARD. 
 
 cross gaps in the ice, in which they were drenched with water. When 
 they reached a large opening and took to their boats — which they had 
 carried over the ice — they were almost always in danger of being crushed 
 in the floes. But worse than all these trials, was that of hunger. Their 
 provisions ran so low that a fortunate shot at a seal was all that saved 
 them from starving several times. 
 
 At last they caught glimpses of open water, beyond the ice, and began 
 to see signs of human beings ; a row-boat appeared, then a whaler, and 
 finally they sighted the safe harbor of Upernavik. Here the rescue party 
 found them, just as they were about to take passage in a Danish vessel 
 for the Shetland Islands ; and the heroic little band of the Second Grin- 
 nell Expedition reached New York on the nth of October, 1855. 
 
JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 141 
 
 They liad not succeeded in finding any of the Franklin party, which 
 was a great disappointment to Dr. Kane and to all who had taken part ii. 
 the expedition ; but they had made such important discoveries and explo- 
 rations that Congress awarded the gallant commander a gold medal ; the 
 Royal Geographical Society of London gave him another, and the Queen 
 another ; in fact, it is said that probably no explorer and traveler, acting 
 in a private capacity as such, has ever received greater tributes of respect. 
 
 Dr. Kane was born in Philadelphia, February 20, 1820, He died at 
 Havana, Cuba, February 10, 1857. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What was the object of the early Polar expeditions? Why did 
 Doctor Kane make his first journey to the Arctic zone? Who paid the 
 expenses of the expedition ? Can you give some account of Dr. Kane's 
 second expedition ? How did Kane's party travel after leaving their ship ? 
 Can you describe the rescue of the men sent to establish a station for 
 provisions? What long journey did the explorers undertake? How 
 were they rescued ? Where was Kane bom and when and where did he die? 
 
 JAMES GORDOI^ BENNETT 
 
 AND HIS FAMOUS NEWSPAPER. 
 
 OU must have noticed, said Uncle Frank, how many 
 great successes have come up from very poor begin- 
 nings ; and how many men who have become re- 
 nowned started out with just about nothing, and made 
 their way by their own hard work. 
 
 Yes, said James, "tall oaks from little acorns 
 grow." 
 
 A very apt saying in this coUnection, remarked 
 Uncle Frank. I have in mind a story that shows it 
 to be true. It is the story of a great newspaper and the way it was begun. 
 One could hardly believe it if he did not acquaint himself with the facts. 
 
 James Gordon Bennett was born at New Mill, Keith, in Banffshire, 
 on the north-eastern coast of Scotland, about the year 1800. His relatives 
 
142 
 
 JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 
 
 were Roman Catholics, and lie was brouglit up in a Catholic family of 
 French origin. In his fourteenth year, having passed through the pri- 
 mary schools of his native place, he entered the Roman Catholic Seminary 
 at Aberdeen, for the purpose of studying for the priesthood of that 
 Church. During the two or three years which he passed here he was a 
 close student, and acquired the basis of an excellent education. 
 
 In 1817 he came into possession of a copy of Benjamin Franklin's 
 account of his own life, which had been recently published in Scotland. 
 
 The perusal of this little 
 book changed the course of 
 his whole life. It induced 
 him to abandon all thoughts 
 of the priesthood, and to try 
 his fortune in the NewWorld, 
 in which the great philoso- 
 pher had succeeded so well 
 before him. A little more 
 than a year later he left 
 Glasgow, and in May, 18 19, 
 being now about twenty 
 years old, landed at Halifax, 
 Nova Scotia. He had less 
 than twenty-five dollars in 
 his purse, knew no trade 
 save that of a book-keeper, 
 and had not a friend on this 
 side of the ocean. 
 
 He secured a few pupils 
 JAMES GORDON BENNETT. in Halifax, and gave lessons 
 
 in book-keeping, but his profits were so small that he determined to reach 
 the United States as soon as possible. Accordingly he made his way along 
 the coast to Portland, Maine, where he took passage for Boston in a small 
 schooner. He found great difficulty in procuring employment, for Boston 
 then, as now, offered but few inducements to new-comers. He parted with 
 his last p'^,nny, and was reduced to the most pressing want. For two 
 whole days he went without food, and a third day would doubtless have 
 been added to his fast had he not been fortunate enough to find a shilling 
 on the Common, with which he procured the means of relieving his hunger. 
 
JAMBS GORDON BENNETT. 
 
 143 
 
 He now obtained a salesman's place in the bookstore of Messrs. 
 Wells and Lilly, wbo, upon discovering bis fitness for the place, trans- 
 ferred bim to tbeir printing-office as proof-reader ; but bis employers failed 
 about two years after bis connection witb tbem began, and be was again 
 thrown out of employment. 
 
 From Boston be went, in 1822, to New York, where he obtained a 
 
 JAMES GORDON BENNETT'S FIRST OFFICE. 
 
 situation on a newspaper. Soon after bis arrival in the metropolis be was 
 offered, by Mr. Wellington, the proprietor of the Charleston Courier, tne 
 position of translator from the Spanish, and general assistant. He 
 accepted the offer, and at once repaired to Charleston. He remained there 
 only a few months, however, and then returned to New York. 
 
 After being employed on several newspapers, during which time by 
 living very cheaply be had managed to save up a little money, he deter- 
 mined to start a paper of bis own. ' 
 
 He rented a cellar in Wall Street, in whicl* k-e established his office, 
 and on the 6th of May, 1835, issued the fi^^ /,%W^>er of The Morning 
 
144 JAMES GORDON BENNETT. 
 
 Herald. His cellar was bare and poverty-stricken in appearance. It con- 
 tained nothing but a desk made of boards laid upon flour barrels. On 
 one end of tbis desk lay a pile of Heralds ready for purchasers, and at the 
 other sat the proprietor writing his articles for his journal and managing 
 his business. 
 
 Says Mr. William Gowans, the famous Nassau-Street bookseller: '' I 
 remember to have entered the subterranean office of its editor early in its 
 career, and purchased a single copy of the paper, for which I paid the sum 
 of one cent United States currency. On this occasion the proprietor, 
 editor, and vendor was seated at his desk, busily engaged in writing, and 
 appeared to pay little or no attention to me as I entered. On making 
 known my object in coming in, he requested me to put my money down 
 on the counter and help myself to a paper, all this time continuing his 
 writing operations. The office was a single oblong underground room ; 
 its furniture consisted of a counter, which also served as a desk, con- 
 structed from two flour barrels, perhaps empty, standing apart from each 
 other about four feet, with a single plank covering both ; a chair, placed 
 in the center, upon which sat the editor busy at his vocation, with an ink- 
 stand by his right hand ; on the end nearest the door were placed the 
 papers for sale." 
 
 Standing on Broadway now, at 34th Street, and looking at the palace 
 from which the greatest and wealthiest newspaper in the Union sends 
 forth its huge editions, one finds it hard to realize that this great journal 
 was bom in a cellar, an obscure little penny sheet, with a poor man for its 
 proprietor. Yet such was the beginning of the New York Herald. 
 
 "WHERE THERE IS A WILL THERE IS A WAY." 
 
 The prospect was not a pleasant one to contemplate, but Mr. Bennett 
 did not shrink from it. He knew that it was in him to succeed, and he 
 meant to do it, no matter through what trials or vicissitudes his path to 
 fortune lay. Those who heard his expressions of confidence shook their 
 heads sagely, and said the young man's air-castles would soon fade away 
 before the blighting breath of experience. Indeed, it did seem a hopeless 
 struggle, the effort of this one poor man to raise his little penny sheet from 
 its cellar to the position of " a power in the land." He was almost 
 unknown. He could bring no support or patronage to his journal by the 
 influence of his name, or by his large acquaintance. * 
 
 The old newspaper system, with its clogs and dead-weights, was still 
 
GENERAI. GEORGE G. MEADE. 
 
 145 
 
 in force, and as for newsboys to hawk tlie new journal over tHe great city, 
 they were a race not then in existence. He had to fight his battle with 
 poverty alone and without friends, and he did fight it bravely. He was 
 bis own clerk, reporter, editor, and errand boy. He wrote all the articles 
 chat appeared in The Herald, and many of the advertisements, and did all 
 the work that was to be performed about his humble office. 
 
 The Herald was a small sheet of four pages of four columns each. 
 Nearly every line of it was fresh news. Quotations from other papers 
 were scarce. Originality was then, as now, the motto of the establish- 
 ment. Small as it was, the paper was attractive. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who was James Gordon Bennett and where did he come from ? For 
 ivhat profession did he first study ? How did he come to emigrate to 
 America ? How was he at first employed ? What can you say about the 
 5rst office where the Herald was published? What was the character of 
 the paper ? 
 
 ^\ 
 
 Qr'EN. GEOKGE G. MEADE 
 
 THE HEEO OF GETTYSBUEG, 
 
 GREAT battle was that of Gettysburg, said Uncle 
 Frank, and to-day I am going to give you an account 
 of General Meade, who commanded the Union forces 
 on that bloody field. Can any of you tell me where 
 Gettysburg is ? 
 
 In the southern part of Pennsylvania, said James, 
 and I would like to go there and see all the monu- 
 ments that have been put up since the battle. 
 
 Perhaps you will, sometime, said Uncle Frank. 
 It is a place well worth visiting. 
 
 General Meade was born at Cadiz, Spain, of American parents, in 
 1816, and after graduating at West Point Military Academy in 1835, 
 served bravely in the Mexican War. In August, 1861, near the begin- 
 ning of our Civil War, he was appointed Brigadier-General of volunteers, 
 fought at the battles of Gaines' Mill and Malvern Hill, and commanded a 
 10 
 
146 
 
 GENERAL GEORGE G. MEADE. 
 
 division at Antietam in 1862. After receiving tlie rank of Major-General 
 in June, 1863, lie was made Commander-in-Cliief of the Army of the 
 Potomac. He met the Confederate army soon afterward. 
 
 The army of Lee, pouring into Pennsylvania for the invasion of the 
 North, was hurled back by the Union forces on the field of Gettysburg, 
 and after a three-days' battle, beginning July i, 1863, "^^as driven into 
 Virginia, never again to cross the Potomac. For those three days the 
 fate of the nation hung in the balance ; and only those who remember 
 
 that fearful time can fully appreci- 
 ate what is due to the brave com- 
 mander of the Union armies, Gen- 
 eral George G. Meade. 
 
 The battle became fiercest on 
 the third da}-, beginning with one 
 of the most terrific cannonades of 
 the war. It was Lee's greatest 
 effort. After two days of dreadful 
 but indecisive battle, he sent forth 
 the flower of his army, under Gen- 
 eral Pickett, to make that attack on 
 Cemeter}^ Hill which has passed 
 into history as one of the greatest 
 charges on record. 
 
 Five thousand veterans of the 
 Confederate army, tried in the fire 
 of many a desperate battle, formed 
 on Seminar}'- Ridge, and moved 
 with the precision of a machine 
 across the vallej^ which la}^ between the two armies. As the terrible can- 
 nonade from the Union guns made gaps in their ranks, they were quickly 
 closed up, and the column moved forward with swifter steps, but still in 
 perfect order, toward the Union Centre on Cemetery Hill. 
 
 The infantry defending the hill reserved their fire until the charging 
 column was within short range ; and then burst forth an awful storm of 
 bullets, before which the advance line of the Confederates withered. The 
 s^^ond line, undismayed, rushed forward over the bodies of their com- 
 rades, and were close upon the Union gunners at their pieces. For a 
 time the force of the charge seemed irresistible ; but now the attackin g 
 
 GENERA!, GEORGE G. MEADE. 
 
GENERAIv GEORGE G. MEADK. 14T 
 
 column became tlie centre of a fire from front and botli flanks, whicli was 
 rapidly destroying them. The divisions of Wilcox and Pettigrew, which 
 were supporting Pickett, had fallen back, and his column was left to meet 
 the deadly storm alone. 
 
 It was clearly impossible to hold their position, and the order was 
 given to withdraw. Of the five thousand men who had advanced in such 
 perfect order, thirty-five hundred were killed, wounded, or prisoners in 
 the hands of the Union army. The remainder of the division fell back, 
 shattered and broken, to the Confederate lines. The tide was turned. 
 Meade had successfully defeated Lee's attack, and the Confederate army, 
 after terrible losses, commenced its retreat through Maryland and across 
 the Potomac never again to invade the North. 
 
 In the campaigns before Richmond in 1864, Meade continued in com- 
 mand of the Army of the Potomac, and Grant testified that he always 
 found him " the right man in the right place." In 1866 he received the 
 thanks of Congress for the skill and heroic valor with which, at Gettys- 
 burg, he repulsed, defeated, and drove back the enemy. 
 
 THE GREAT BATTLE OF THE WAR. 
 
 " The country," says Colonel A. K. McClure, writing of '' Our Unre- 
 warded Heroes," " has never done justice to General Meade as a military 
 commander. The man who fought and won the battle of Gettysburg 
 should have been the commander-in-chief of the armies of the Union, and 
 held that position during life. It was the great battle of the war ; it was 
 the Waterloo of the Confederacy, and the victory then achieved was won 
 by the skill of the commanding general and the heroism of his army. 
 
 " That army was the single hope of the nation, for had it been de- 
 feated in a great battle, Washington and the wealth of our Eastern cities 
 would have been at the mercy of the insurgents. It was an occasion for 
 the most skillful and prudent generalship, united with the great courage 
 essential to command successfully in such an emergency. All these high 
 requirements General Meade fully met, and the most critical examination 
 of the record he made in the Gettysburg campaign develops nothing but 
 what heightens his qualities for the peculiarly grave emergency that con- 
 fronted him." 
 
 General Meade did not receive the promotion to which many thought 
 that his great services at the battle of Gettysburg entitled him ; " and he 
 went down to his grave,'' says Colonel McClure, " one of the sorrowing 
 
148 INDEPENDENCE HAI.L. 
 
 and unrewarded heroes of tlie war." He died in PhiladelpHa in Novem- 
 ber, 1872, in a house which had been presented to his wife by his coun- 
 trymen. A fund of one hundred thousand dollars was, after his death, 
 
 subscribed for his family. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where and when was General Meade born? Where was he edu- 
 cated ? At what battles did he fight before Gettysburg ? What Confeder- 
 ate commander did he defeat at Gettysburg? What made the battle of 
 Gettysburg such an important one ? Can you describe General Pickett's ' 
 famous charge? Where did General Meade die? What provision was 
 made for his family ? 
 
 I]^DEPENDE]^CE HALL 
 
 AND THE OLD LIBERTY BELL. 
 
 AN anyone tell me, asked Uncle Frank, who wrote the' 
 Declaration of Independence ? That made us a free 
 and independent nation; do you know who was the 
 author of it ? 
 
 Yes, spoke up Mabel. There was a committee 
 of five to write it. Franklin was one, and Jefferson 
 was another. I have always read that Jefferson wrote 
 the Declaration. 
 
 Quite right, said Uncle Frank, and the old Inde- 
 pendence Hall, where it was signed, still stands in Philadelphia, and hasj 
 recently been made to look just as it did in the great year of 1776. \ 
 
 The building that stands in the centre of the brick structures onj 
 Chestnut street, between Fifth and Sixth streets, and has the tall spire, is 
 the original State House, subsequently known as Independence Hall. It] 
 was provided that the ground to the south of the State House shouldl 
 remain " a public green and walk forever." It was not till 1816 that thef 
 city acquired the property by purchase, although the State House was i 
 erected in 1731. In 1733 the Assembly ordered two ofEces to be builtj 
 adjoining the State House. 
 
 As early as 1736 the Mayor of the city, William Allen, gave a ban- 
 
INDEPENDENCE HALL. 
 
 149 
 
 [uet to citizens and strangers in the city in tHe State Honse, and in 
 Sfovember, 1752, in celebration of the birthday of George II, a ball was 
 jiven there, and other entertainments were given within the building at 
 various times, until September of 1774, when the members of the Conti- 
 lental Congress were guests of the gentlemen of Philadelphia at a dinner 
 ihere. This is believed to have been the last occasion of a public social 
 estivity in the building. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE HALI.. 
 
 Built in 1731 and used as a State House, and afterward as a meeting place for the Continental 
 
 Congress. The Declaration of Independence was adopted and signed in this building. 
 
 The Continental Congress met in the east room on the lower floor, 
 [ndependence Hall, and it was there that the Declaration of Independence 
 tvas adopted on the Fourth of July, 1776. On July 8 the Declaration was 
 read publicly from the platform of an observatory erected on the Square 
 3y John Rittenhouse to observe the transit of Venus. 
 
 What is the transit of Venus ? James asked. 
 
 It is the passage of the planet Venus across the face of the sun, said 
 Uncle Frank. It is always an occasion of interest not only to students of 
 istronomy, but to many others. But what I was about to say was that 
 what are called the articles of confederation, by which the States were 
 
150 
 
 INDEPENDENCE HALL. 
 
 speaker's chair and desk 
 
 on which declaration 
 
 was signed. 
 
 formed into a Union, were signed by delegates of eight States in Inde- 
 pendence Hall, and until June 21, 1783, Congress occupied that chamber. 
 In 1802 a museum was established in the second story of the build- 
 ing, having relics and historical papers that were interesting to the pub- 
 lic, and in the yard were animals in cages, a kind of zoological garden. ' 
 
 The museum remained in the building until 
 1829. I^ 1^75 the west room on the first floor 
 was made a National Museum and place of 
 deposit for relics. 
 
 The signing of this declaration by the 
 American Congress was a great event. That 
 firm band of patriots well knew that, in affix- 
 ing their signatures, they were, in the eyes 
 of England, committing the very act of trea- 
 son and rebellion ; and that, in case of her 
 final success, it was their own death-warrant 
 which they signed. Their countrymen felt 
 in a manner most forcible that there was now no receding from the con- 
 test, without devoting to death these their political fathers, who had thus 
 fearlessly made themselves the organs of declaring what was equally the 
 determination of all. Thus it was now the general feeling that the die 
 was cast, and nothing remained but — " lib- 
 erty or death." 
 
 Congress was in session in the hall of 
 the State House in Philadelphia when the 
 Declaration of Independence was adopted. 
 In the spire of this venerable building hung 
 a bell, inscribed with the words of Scripture: 
 ^' Proclaim liberty throughout all the land 
 unto all the inhabitants thereof." On the 
 morning of the fourth of July vast crowds 
 assembled around the building, as it was 
 known that Congress would that day take 
 definite action upon the Declaration. The 
 bell-ringer stationed himself in the tower, 
 ready to proclaim the good news the moment 
 it should be announced to him, and had 
 posted his little son at the door of the hall 
 
 OLD LIBERTY BELL. 
 
152 INDEPENDENCE HALL. 
 
 to await the signal of tlie door-keeper, who had agreed to give immediate 
 notice as soon as a decision should be reached. 
 
 When the announcement of the vote was made the door-keeper gave 
 the signal and the boy ran quickly to the tower. The old man heard him 
 coming, and clutched the bell-rope with a firm grasp. The next instant 
 the glad cry of the boy's voice was heard. " Ring ! ring 1 " he cried, and 
 then the deep, loud tones of the bell went rolling out of the tower, and 
 were answered with a mighty shout from the assembled throng without. 
 The declaration was received by all the States and by the army with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 There is a common impression that the old Liberty Bell was cracked 
 on the day it rang out liberty for the American people. This, however, 
 is a mistake. The bell was cracked in 1835, while tolling for Chief 
 Justice Marshall. It is one of the sacred relics of the nation, is an object 
 of great interest to all Americans, and is always regarded with a feeling 
 akin to veneration. 
 
 The proposition has often been made to have the bell re-cast, in order 
 that it might be rung again. No tinkering, however, with this national 
 relic will ever be permitted. The more common feeling is that it should 
 remain as it is. In early days relic hunters, who have unfortunately 
 existed in every generation, used to break off pieces from the edge of the 
 bell and carry them away as mementoes. If this ruthless practice had 
 not been stopped, nothing by this time would have been left of the old 
 bell ; it would have been battered to pieces and carried off. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who wrote the Declaration of Independence? In what city does 
 Independence Hall stand ? When was it erected ? What public celebra- 
 tions took place in this hall ? In what room did the Continental Congress 
 meet? In what room was the Declaration of Independence signed? What 
 is a transit of Venus ? When was Independence Hall used as a museum ? 
 When was the Declaration of Independence adopted ? Describe the ring- 
 ing of the bell on the 4th of Jnly, 1776. 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAG-UT 
 
 THE CiREAT NAYAL COMMANDER. 
 
 ^y^ni^ — ^ Y COUSIN has been writing me about one of our famous 
 ships, said Mabei. It is the battleship Oregon, and 
 he had a chance to go on board and see all the diflfer 
 ent parts of the vessel. 
 
 A wonderful ship it is, said Uncle Frank, and we 
 have had many famous vessels in our navy. 
 
 And great commanders, too, said James. I wish 
 you would tell us about Farragut. He was one of the 
 bravest. 
 
 He was the great Admiral of the Civil War, said 
 Uncle Frank, a resolute soldier, a brave seaman, and a noble gentleman. 
 When he was a lad eleven years old, he first entered the country's service 
 Du board Captain Porter's famous Essex, in the War of 1812. He was 
 Duly a midshipman when this vessel captured His Majesty's sloop of war, 
 the Alert, but he behaved so well during the great excitement of the short 
 Eight, that the captain reported him after the capture and said that his 
 Dravery and good service deserved promotion, although the boy was too 
 ^oung to receive it. He needed more education and his great friend, 
 ;he captain, secured a place for him in a school at Chester, Pennsylvania, 
 ivhere he could study naval and military science. 
 
 GOES ON A CRUISE TO THE MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 After about a year he was sent with a number of other students to 
 ;he Mediterranean in a naval ship. On this cruise a strong friendship 
 l^rew up between young Farragut and one of the teachers, a Mr. Fulsome, 
 v^ho was soon after appointed Consul to Tunis and obtained permission to 
 ake his favorite pupil with him. Here they studied history together and 
 alked over the deeds of the great Hannibal as they walked over the very 
 (lace where that warrior had promised his father that he would never lay 
 own his arms against Rome. 
 
 Farragut remained at Tunis a year ; then was appointed a lieutenant 
 
 _ 153 
 
154 
 
 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 
 
 in tlie navy, and ordered to the West Indies. Three years afterward he 
 was sent to take charge of the navy yard at Norfolk, Virginia. There he 
 married and remained for a number of years. He spent all his spare time 
 in studying, not only naval science, but several of the languages. By and 
 
 by, when a 
 still more im- 
 portant place 
 was in need 
 of a c o m- 
 mander, Far- 
 ragut was 
 named as be- 
 ing better 
 fitted to take 
 charge of it 
 than any man 
 in the service. 
 So he was 
 soon sent out 
 to the Mare 
 Island navy 
 yard in Cali- 
 fornia, where 
 he remained 
 from 1854 to 
 1858. 
 
 During 
 the exciting 
 days after the 
 declaration of 
 the Civil 
 War, he was 
 at his home 
 again in Nor- 
 
 ADMIRAL DAVID G. FARRAGUT. foj]^ aUxioUS- 
 
 ly waiting to see which way his State (Tennessee), would go, but when it 
 seceded he could not follow. To him the right side was that of the Union. 
 He could not fight against the flag he had served for almost fifty years. 
 
ADMIRAIy FARRAGUT. 155 
 
 So when tlie news came that the Virginia Legislature had decided to 
 unite with the Confederation and cut loose from the Union, Farragut 
 hastily packed up a few of his household goods, put a brace of pistols in 
 his pocket, and left Norfolk with his wife and child. He came North, 
 found a quiet home for his family at Hastings-on-the-Hudson, and leaving 
 them there went on to Washington, to oflfer his services to the country, 
 
 IN COMMAND OF SEVENTEEN GREAT WAR-SHIPS. 
 
 At that time all the ships of the United States Navy were away in 
 foreign ports, so the Government could give him nothing to do, but they 
 told him to wait in readiness for the first charge they could give him. It 
 was nine months before this came. Then he was put in command of 
 seventeen great war-ships and ordered to capture New Orleans. 
 
 This was no easy matter, for New Orleans was very strongly defended. 
 In Revolutionary times two great forts, Jackson and St. Philip had been 
 built, one on each side of the Mississippi River, sixty miles below the 
 city. They had kept the British out of the " Father of Waters " eighty 
 years before, and still they stood in strength and fastness. Farragut was 
 told that several officers in the French and English navies — good judges 
 of defences — had said that it would be impossible for any fleet to pass 
 these forts. He replied : " It may be so, but I was sent here either to 
 take these forts or pass them, and I mean to try." Among the officers in 
 the fleet was Commodore Porter, son of the old captain under whom Farra- 
 gut had served when he first entered the navy. 
 
 Together they devised and carried out a plan for disguising the 
 squadron before setting sail for the forts. This was a trick that old Com- 
 mander Porter used often to try, and both the younger commanders were 
 apt pupils. They painted the outside of the gunboats with mud so that 
 they looked much like the muddy ground they were passing and could 
 not be easily seen in the distance. The masts they twined with foliage 
 like the forests along the river, and as they came nearer to the forts they 
 bound marsh-weeds to the sides of the vessels. 
 
 At last they were within firing distance of Fort Jackson and turned 
 their great guns toward it. The boats kept up almost a continuous fire 
 upon the fort for a week, and still it showed no signs of surrendering. 
 Then Farragut decided to try the dangerous task of running past it. He 
 ordered everything to be got ready, and at two o'clock in the morning of 
 April 24th, he gave the signal for starting — two red lights hoisted on the 
 
156 ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 
 
 mast of his flag-ship, the Hartford. A loud roar from the cannon of the 
 fort soon told them that they had been discovered. Two bright beacons 
 had been kept burning on shore, throwing a strong light across the river, 
 through which it was impossible for the ships to pass without being 
 clearly seen. 
 
 As soon as their prows touched the clear, shining path across the 
 waters, alarm was given. Signals blazed up from all points along the 
 shore and every gun of the fort began to pour out its deadly fire, while 
 the fleet, keeping steadily on, poured out their shot and shell as fast as 
 they could, till the whole place was shrouded with volumes of smoke. 
 Fire rafts came down upon them and set the Hartford ablaze, but the ac- 
 tive company of firemen put the fire out, and the fleet was past the fort. 
 
 But they were not yet safe, for they suddenly found themselves in a 
 perfect nest of fire-rafts and gunboats, among which was the terrible iron- 
 clad ram, Manassas. A desperate battle of an hour and a half settled the 
 question, the Southern fleet was defeated ; thirteen of Farragut's vessels 
 had passed the forts, and the way to New Orleans was open. 
 
 TERRIBLE BATTLE AND AWFUL SIGHT. 
 
 This was one of the most terrible naval battles ever fought. Farra- 
 gut said : " It was one of the most awful sights and events I ever saw or 
 expected to see. The smoke was so dense that it was only now and then 
 you could see anything but the flash of the cannon and the fire-ships or 
 rafts." 
 
 He moved on to New Orleans directly, and forced the surrender of the 
 city, completing the main object of his expedition. This was, altogether, 
 one of the most important victories of the war, and Congress rewarded the 
 leader by creating for him the office of Vice-Admiral of the United States 
 \Navy. 
 
 The day after the surrender he sailed on up the Mississippi to Vicks- 
 burg and stormed that place, but it was too strong to be carried without 
 help from land forces, so he went down the river again and put up at Pen- 
 sacola for repairs. As soon as the fleet was again ready he crossed the 
 Gulf of Mexico, took Galveston, Corpus Christi, and the Sabine Pass, and 
 broke the power of the Southern navy in that vicinity. 
 
 Another order to go to Vicksburg was given in March of the next 
 year. This time he went to work with good aid on land, for General 
 Grant's forces were already drawn up near by. Two vessels were carried 
 
ADMIRAL FARRAGUT. 15T 
 
 past tlie fort below the city and tHus beset by a great general on land and 
 the vice-admiral on the river, General Pemberton was compelled to yield 
 the city. 
 
 In midsummer the Government sent Farragut's fleet to take Mobile 
 and stop the way of the blockade-runners who were planning to get up 
 into the Southwest territory through Mobile Bay. This was guarded by 
 Fort Morgan, Fort Gaines, and a powerful iron-clad ram and three gun. 
 boats, that lay a little further in the bay. Farragut's fleet of fourteen 
 wooden steamers and gunboats and four iron-clad monitors, passed Fort 
 Morgan and met the Confederate vessels in one of the fiercest naval bat- 
 tles on record. 
 
 The commander was lashed to the rigging of the Hartford, where he 
 could see everything that took place and direct the terrible conflict which 
 only closed with the Confederates' surrender. In a few days after this 
 victory the Union armies took the forts, and the blockade-runners were 
 effectually shut out. For this another new rank was created in the navy 
 making him a full admiral. He made two voyages after the war, but from 
 the second one he never returned home. 
 
 PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF ADMIRAL. 
 
 Farragut was promoted to the rank of Admiral July 25th, 1866, and 
 held a higher rank than any other ofiicer of the United States navy. It 
 was felt by everybody that this rank was due to him on account of the 
 important services he had rendered to his country. He was a great com- 
 mander ; all his officers had the greatest respect for him ; he was willing 
 to stand in the face of danger, and never asked anybody to go where he 
 was not willing to go himself 
 
 Admiral Farragut was born near Knoxville, Tennessee, July 5, 1801. 
 He died at Portland, Maine, August 14, 1870. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 How did Farragut first enter his country's service ? Where did he 
 study for the navy ? Where was he sent then ? What position did he 
 hold in California ? When the Civil War broke out what did he do ? Can 
 you describe his battle at New Orleans ? At Mobile ? In what part of 
 his ship was he at the battle of Mobile ? Where and when was he born, 
 and where did he die ? 
 
PATRICK HENRT 
 
 THE ORATOR OF THE REYOLIJTIOI^. 
 
 OU are late tHs morning, said Elsie to Uncle Frank ; 
 we have been waiting twelve minutes. 
 
 Is it as long as tliat ? said Uncle Frank. But I 
 could not help it. A gentleman called to see me on 
 important business, and I could not get away ; so you 
 will have to excuse me. 
 
 We will, said James, but we young folks will 
 have to keep an eye on Uncle Frank to see that he is 
 on time. All joined in a hearty laugh, and Uncle 
 Frank said he intended to tell the young people of Patrick Henry. 
 
 The rich and most loyal commonwealth of Virginia was not so ready 
 to resist the oppression of Great Britain as the leading Colonies of the 
 North. The Legislature — or House of Burgesses — had almost reached 
 the close of its session in 1765 without taking any decided measures 
 against British taxation, when, one day, a tall and slender young man, 
 unknown to many in that splendid assembly, arose to speak. It was 
 Patrick Henry, a new member, and a lawyer from Louisa County, 
 
 AMAZED AT THIS RAW LAWYER. 
 
 The rich planters were amazed and indignant, that this raw lawyer, 
 unpracticed in statesmanship, should be so bold as to address the house 
 upon so important a subject. But Henry had something to say, and soon 
 held the attention of every member. He offered a brief set of resolutions, 
 setting forth that the Burgesses and the Governor were the only ones who 
 had the right and power to lay taxes and imports on the people, and 
 that all acts of Parliament affecting the rights of the Colonies were void. 
 
 This was entirely too bold for a large number of the members and 
 raised a great storm, but Henry would not yield. The old walls rung 
 with the powerful enthusiasm and mighty force of his words, and even 
 the most patriotic were surprised when he blazed forth : " Caesar had his 
 
 Brutus. Charles the First his Cromwell, and George the Third "- 
 
 158 
 
PATRICK HENRY. 
 
 159 
 
 "Treason! Treason !" broke in the presiding officer and the members, 
 after whicli the orator finished in a calmer tone, " may profit by their ex- 
 ample. If this be treason, make the most of it." 
 
 The resolutions were adopted, and from that time forth Patrick Henry 
 has stood among the first and greatest of American orators. He was a 
 zealous patriot, and became a power in the Colonies. He took a leading 
 part among Virginians in all the important affairs that followed this 
 stand against the King, keeping up his profession meanwhile with what 
 would have been wonderful ability for a man far better educated than he ; 
 for Patrick Hen- 
 ry was not a 
 scholar and a 
 gentleman born 
 and bred, as 
 were many of 
 his great com- 
 panions. 
 
 He was 
 about thirty-two 
 years old at this 
 time, and, until 
 two years before had made a 
 failure at everything he tried 
 to do, excepting at idling away 
 his time, hunting and fishing, 
 scraping a violin, playing on a 
 flute, following the hounds, and 
 telling stories. When he was 
 about twenty-five years old he made an effort toward becoming a lawyer, 
 and although he was admitted to the bar, he had so little to do in his 
 profession that he stayed at home mostly and helped about the tavern 
 at Hanover Court-House, kept by his father-in-law, who also supported 
 Henry's wife and family. 
 
 But one day he was called to court to take a part in a case called the 
 "Parson's Cause," which some more important lawyer had refused. His 
 opponent was one of the prominent men of those times, and the plaintiffs 
 smiled at their already assured success when this awkward, backward, ill- 
 mannered man rose to speak for the other side. But suddenly his timidity 
 
 PATRICK HENRY MAKING HIS FIRST PLEA 
 IN COURT. 
 
160 PATRICK HENRY. 
 
 and bashfulness passed away; lie seemed to change completely before 
 tlieir eyes ; his form swelled out ; and his clear, forcible words astonished 
 every hearer. The plaintiffs left their seats under the burning storm of 
 his words, and the jury returned them a verdict of one cent damages. 
 
 The people grew so enthusiastic that they lifted the young man on 
 their shoulders and carried him out of the Court-House in triumph. He 
 was from that day an eminent man in his profession ; plenty of business 
 and money began to come to him now, and in a couple of years he was 
 elected to the Virginia House of Burgesses, where, in his first session, he 
 made the great speech which " set the ball of the Revolution rolling," 
 
 HE WENT TO WORK IN REAL EARNEST. 
 
 Yet, all this was but a foreshadowing of what he was to do. Now 
 that he had once set himself to work in real earnest, the wonderful powers 
 of his mind began to show themselves ; friends and strangers were sur- 
 prised with his wisdom and power of speech. At that time our country 
 was sorely in need of men fearless and eloquent, with hearts full of the 
 love of justice and liberty — men who had seen and studied people, who 
 knew the records of history, and the laws that had made nations great or 
 caused them to fall. It was just such a man that this rolling stone, this 
 unsuccessful student, farmer, and merchant had been preparing himself 
 to be without knowing it. He was as much surprised as any one at what 
 had been hidden within him so long. 
 
 But now that he knew, he labored with all his strength to make the 
 most of himself. The bad manners, slovenly dress, and the idle, careless 
 habits that marred his youth were corrected. Always honorable, he now 
 gained the reputation of being also prompt and faithful in all matters of 
 business. He was a man who never drank liquor or used bad language. 
 His companions loved and respected him. He was kind and hospitable to 
 friends and strangers, generous to his neighbors, and although it is said 
 that he was jealous of his rivals, there is no actual record of it ; but there 
 is record of his having spoken heartily in praise of them more than once. 
 
 The great man's face sometimes looked stern and severe, with its 
 deep lines and the grave, thoughtful expression upon the high forehead 
 and about the resolute mouth and chin. His complexion was dark and 
 his cheeks had no color in them. His nose was long and finely shaped, 
 and the full eyebrows were very often drawn together, but when he smiled 
 a bright sunshine seemed to spread over his countenance, lighting up the 
 
PATRICK HENRY. 161 
 
 dviep-sct blue-gray eyes that seemed quite dark from the loug, heavy 
 lashes, and completely changing his mouth. Those who knew him well 
 could almost tell whether he was pleased or displeased, and just how 
 much, by the expression of his lips. 
 
 In the Virginian Convention of March, 1775, which was held in 
 Richmond, his greatest blaze of oratory came out. All now looked upon 
 him as the leading spirit of the Assembly, but when he presented resolu- 
 tions to organize military forces and take an open stand against Great 
 Britain by putting the Colony in a state of defence, there was a strong 
 opposition raised. William Wirt tells us that Henry answered these fal- 
 terers in the stirring words : " There is no retreat but in submission and 
 slavery. Our chains are already forged. Their clanking may be heard 
 in the plains of Boston. The next gale that sweeps from the North will 
 bring the clash of resounding arms. I know not what course others may 
 take, but as for me, give me liberty or give me death 1 " 
 
 VIRGINIA DECLARES FOR LIBERTY AND RIGHT. 
 
 Without a vote against it, the resolution was adopted; and when, in 
 less than a month, the news from the North told of the fights at Lexing- 
 ton and Concord, Virginia was ready to join in with the New England 
 Colonies for freedom, liberty and right. Patrick Henr}'' was boru at 
 Studley, Virginia, May 29, 1736. He died in the same State, at his coun- 
 try-seat. Red Hill, in Charlotte Count}^, June 6, 1799. 
 
 Remember, said Uncle Frank, that Patrick Henry had to overcome 
 many discouragements. In early life he failed as a storekeeper and as a 
 farmer, making out very poorly in both of these pursuits. He then 
 studied law, and, having great ability, all that v/as wanted was an oppor 
 tunity to show his oratorical power. No orator of the Revolution had 
 greater fame. He was a patriot and a lover of his country's cause from 
 first to last. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What was Patrick Henry's profession ? What effect did his speech 
 have on the Burgesses of Virginia ? What did he say when accused of 
 'treason ? What were his habits in early life ? Can you describe his first 
 plea made in court ? "What effect did his eloquence have upon the Conti- 
 nental Congress ? Where was he born and where did he die ? 
 11 
 
ABEAHAM LUNTCOLlSr 
 
 THE PEESEKTEE OF THE Uli^IOK 
 
 HEN will you tell us about President Lincoln ? asked 
 James, as the company went to the summer house for 
 their morning talk, 
 
 I will tell you to-day, said Uncle Frank. He was 
 one of the greatest and noblest men of modern times, 
 and people everywhere will always think so. He was 
 the sixteenth President of the United States, and was 
 inaugurated at Washington on the fourth of March, 
 1861. 
 
 What is inaugurated ? said Mabel. 
 
 When a President takes the oath of office and begins to discharge the 
 duties of President, he is said to be inaugurated. 
 
 As it was feared that an attempt would be made to prevent Mr. Lin- 
 coln's inauguration, the city of Washington was held by a strong body of 
 regular troops under General Scott, and the President-elect was escorted 
 from his hotel to the Capitol by a militar}'' force. No effort was made to 
 interfere with the ceremonies, and the inauguration passed off quietly. 
 
 BOYHOOD OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. 
 
 The new President was in his fifty-third year, and was a native of 
 Kentucky. When he was but eight years old his father removed to Indi' 
 ana, and the boj^hood of the future President was spent in hard labor upon 
 the farm. Until he reached manhood he continued to lead this life, and 
 during this entire period attended school for onl}^ a year. 
 
 At the age of twenty-one he removed to Illinois, where he began life 
 as a storekeeper. Being anxious to rise above his humble position, he 
 determined to study law. He was too poor to buy the necessary books, 
 and so borrowed them from a neighboring lawyer, read them at night and 
 returned them in the morning. His genial character, great good nature 
 and love of hiimor won him the friendship of the people among whom he 
 ♦•esid^, and they elected him to the lower house of the Legislature of Illinois 
 162 
 
ABRAHAM UNCOLN. 
 
 163 
 
 He now abandoned his mercantile pursuits, and began the practice of 
 the law, and was subsequently elected a representative to Congress from 
 the Springfield District. He took an active part in the politics of his 
 State, and in 1858 was the candidate of the Republican Party for United 
 States Senator. At this time he engaged in a series of debates in various 
 parts of the State with Senator Douglas, the Democratic candidate for re- 
 ^ election to the same position. This debate was remarkable for its bril- 
 liancy and intellectual vigor, and brought him prominently before the 
 whole countr}^, and opened the way to his nomination for the Presidency. 
 
 In person he was tall and ungain- 
 ly, and in manner he was rough and 
 awkward, little versed in the refine- 
 ments of society. He was a man, how- 
 ever, of great natural vigor of intellect, 
 and was possessed of a fund of strong- 
 common sense, which enabled him to 
 see at a glance through the shams by 
 which he was surrounded, and to pur- 
 sue his own aims with singleness of 
 heart and directness of purpose. 
 
 He had sprung from the ranks of 
 the people, and he was never false to 
 them. He was a simple, unaffected, 
 kind-hearted man ; anxious to do his 
 duty to the whole country ; domestic 
 in his tastes and habits ; and faithful 
 in every place he occupied. He was 
 fond of humor, and overflowed with it ; 
 finding in his " little stories " the only relaxation he ever sought from 
 / the heavy cares of the trying position to which he was called. 
 
 Mr. Lincoln was elected by a plurality of the popular vote. That is, 
 he had a larger vote than any other candidate, although he did not have 
 more votes than all the others put together. This secured foi him eigh- 
 teen States. These States were entirely in the North. 
 
 The States which cast their votes for Breckenridge, Bell and Doug- 
 las, the other candidates, were entirely slave-holding. The division thus 
 made was alarming. It was the first time in the history of the Republic 
 that a President had been elected by the votes of a single section of the Union. 
 
 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
 
ie4 
 
 ABRAHAM UNCOLN. 
 
 The state in whicH tlie Presidential election left the country, was 
 alarming. The excitement was higher than it had been before the strug- 
 gle at the polls. The Gulf States had declared at an early period of the 
 political campaign that they would withdraw from the Union in the event 
 of the election of a Republican President. The people of the South gen- 
 erally regarded the result of the election as an evidence of the determina- 
 tion of the North- 
 ern States to use 
 the power of the 
 Federal govern- 
 ment to destroy 
 the institution of 
 slavery. The dis- 
 union leaders ex- 
 erted themselves 
 to deepen this 
 conviction, and 
 to arouse the 
 fears of the 
 South. 
 
 The result 
 was that the 
 Southern States 
 left the Union 
 ,3^^P and the great 
 Civil War follow- 
 ed. After Mr. 
 
 LINCOLN MONUMENT, FAIRMOUNT PARK, PHILADELPHIA. Liucolu had bcCU 
 
 President four years he was elected again. This was a great offence to many 
 of his enemies and they hatched a plot to take his life. The ringleader of 
 this band was John Wilkes Booth, a native of Maryland. Their first idea 
 was to make Mr. Lincoln a prisoner, but not being able to do this they re- 
 solved to take his life. On the evening of the 14th of April, 1865, he was 
 attending a place of amusement in Washington when Booth, who had 
 admittance to the theatre on account of his being an actor, approached 
 him from behind without being noticed and placing a pistol ^vithin a few 
 inches of the head of the President, shot him. The ball entered his brain 
 and he sank slightly forward without uttering a sound. He continued to 
 
ADMIRAL DEWEY. 165 
 
 breathe for several hours, but was totally unconscious and died the next 
 morning at half past seven o'clock. 
 
 Booth was killed while resisting arrest and the other conspirators 
 were caught and hanged. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 When was Mr. Lincoln inaugurated ? What is the meaning of "in- 
 auguration ?" Why was he guarded on the way from the White House 
 to the Capitol ? What can you tell me of Mr. Lincoln's early history ? 
 What was his personal appearance ? What were some of his peculiarities ? 
 What can you say of his fund of humor ? How many States voted for 
 him ? What great struggle followed his election ? How did Mr. Lincoln 
 lose his life ? What became of the conspirators ? 
 
 ADMIKAL DEWEY 
 
 THE HEEO OF MAE'H.A. 
 
 UR country has had some famous naval heroes, said 
 Uncle Frank, and to-day I will tell you of Admiral 
 Dewey. 
 
 I remember all about the battle of Manila, said 
 James, and I think I could tell exactly when it took 
 place. 
 
 If you get it wrong, said Elsie, I believe I could 
 correct you. When was it ? 
 
 On the first day of May, 1898, said James ; isn't 
 that right, Uncle Frank ? 
 
 That is correct, said Uncle Frank, and I am glad you remember. 
 Hear, now, what I have to tell you about him. 
 
 Admiral George Dewey, the hero of the great naval battle of Manila, 
 is an old warrior of the navy, who got his christening of fire aboard the 
 old steam sloop Mississippi, under Farragut, iu the early days of the 
 Civil War. He belongs in Vermont, and was born at Montpelier, De- 
 cember 26th 1837. He was appointed from that State to the Naval 
 
166 
 
 ADMIRAL DEWEY. 
 
 Academy at Annapolis, Maryland, in September, 1854. Four years later, 
 when he was graduated, he was sent aboard the steam frigate Wabash for 
 a cruise in the IMediterranean. Dewey got his commission as lieutenant 
 on April 19, 1861, eight days after Fort Sumter was fired upon, and he 
 was immediately assigned to join the Mississippi and do duty with the 
 West Gulf squadron. 
 
 He was on the Mississippi when she took part with Farragut's other 
 vessels in forcing an entrance to the Mississippi river, and again when 
 
 the fleet ran the gaunt- 
 let of fire from the forts 
 below New Orleans in 
 April, 1862, and forced 
 the surrender of that 
 city. The ship he was 
 in belonged to Captain 
 Baile3'^'s division of the 
 fleet which attacked 
 Fort St. Philip. 
 
 The hottest fight 
 that the Mississippi ever 
 engaged in was her last 
 one, and this perhaps 
 was as hot as any of the 
 war. In March, 1863, 
 the fleet tried to run by 
 the Confederate batter- 
 ies at Port Hudson. 
 
 ^ Some of the ships got 
 
 as far as a narrow part 
 
 ADMIRAL GEORGE DEWEY— HERO OF MANILA. ^^ ^^^ channel, wherC 
 
 they met land batteries almost muzzle to muzzle, and then they were 
 forced to retreat. The Mississippi did not get as far as this. A foggy 
 day had been chosen for the attempt, and this was soon made more ob- 
 scure by the smoke of battle, and amid this the Mississippi lost her bear- 
 ings and ran ashore. 
 
 Her officers found that she had struck just under the guns of a bat- 
 tery in the middle of the line of fortifications, and one of the strongest of 
 the lot. In half an hour 250 shots struck the vessel, and she was riddled 
 
ADMIRAL DEWEY. 167 
 
 from end to end. There was uo chance to hold her, aud her crew took to 
 their boats and landed on the opposite side of the river, after setting her 
 on fire. Soon, lightened by the loss of the crew and by the fire, she 
 drifted ofi", and blazing and saluting with bursting shells, she drifted 
 down the river, until finall}' the fire reached her magazines, and her career 
 was ended in one great explosion. 
 
 Dewey was next attached to the steam gunboat Agawan, of the North 
 Atlantic blockading squadron, and he took part in the two attacks made 
 on Fort Fisher in December, 1864, and January, 1865. ^^ March, 1865, 
 he got his commission as lieutenant commander, and as such served on 
 the famous old Kearsage and on the Colorado, the flagship of the Euro- 
 pean squadron, until 1868, when he was sent for service to the Naval 
 Academy at Annapolis, Maryland. 
 
 PROMOTED TO THE RANK OF CAPTAIN. 
 
 His first command was in 1870, when he had the Narragansett doing 
 special service. He became a commander in April, 1872, and, still on the 
 Narragansett, was engaged in makiug surveys of the Pacific until 1876, 
 when he was made a lighthouse inspector, and later the secretary of the 
 Lighthouse Board. He commanded tlie Juniata on the ^Asiatic station in 
 1882-83, and in September, 1884, was made a captain and put in charge 
 of the Dolphin, then bran-new and one of the four vessels which formed 
 the original " white squadron." 
 
 The following year he was sent to command the flagship Pensacola, 
 of the European squadron, and he stayed there until 1888, when he became 
 Chief of the Bureau of Equipment and Recruiting, with the rank of com- 
 modore. This place he held until 1893, when he was made a member of 
 the Lighthouse Board. He got his commission as commodore on Feb- 
 ruary 28, 1896, and at about the same time was made president of the 
 Board of Inspection and Survey. This place he held until he was put in 
 command of the Asiatic station, in January, 1897. 
 
 Admiral Dewey's masterly dash upon Manila, the capital of the 
 Philippine Islands, on the ist of May, 1898, was one of the most daring 
 and successful expeditions which naval history has had to chronicle. The 
 quickness of the movement, conducted with so much vigor by its gallaut 
 commander, was no less a surprise to the world when it first heard of it 
 than were the skill and daring of the attack and the thoroughness with 
 which the enemy were beaten. 
 
16S 
 
 COMMODORE DECATUR. 
 
 The achievement was a grand triumph for American strategy and 
 seamanship and has won deserved fame for Admiral Dewey and his com- 
 mand. In spite of inferior ships, poor gunners, and ^^-ithout efficient aid 
 from the shore defences, the Spanish admiral and seamen did all that men 
 could. Not an ensign was lowered from a single masthead ; all stood 
 manfully b\' their guns until their vessels took flame, were blo\\Ti up, 
 sank with their entire crews, or were driven to shoal water. 
 
 Of the whole Spanish fleet nothing of au}- account was left after the 
 brave Dewey had made an end of his work. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 When was the naval battle of Manila fought ? WTiere and when was 
 Admiral Dewe}" born ? Under what commander did he serve in the Ci\'il 
 War ? On what sloop ? Can 3'ou describe the fight in which the sloop 
 ^lississippi was lost ? What positions did Admiral Dewey afterwards oc- 
 cupy ? When was he given command of our Asiatic squadron ? Can 
 
 you describe the battle of Manila ? 
 ^he Spaniards ? 
 
 What can you say of the heroism of 
 
 ^% 
 
 CO^I^IODOEE DEOATITK 
 
 AXD HIS GAXLAIsT EXPLOITS. 
 
 WAY back in the earl}' part of the centur}', said Uncle 
 Frank, we had great naval commanders, as well as in 
 the Civil War and our war with Spain. I have 
 already told 3^ou of some of them, and to-da}- I wish 
 to describe another. Have you ever heard of Stephen 
 Decatur? 
 
 Oul}'' as I have read some brief mention of him 
 in m}' American histor}', said Mabel. James and 
 Elsie said the same. 
 He became a famous naval hero, said Uncle Frank, in our little Tri- 
 politan war. At the beginning of the century there were many American 
 vessels upon the seas, carr3'ing goods to all parts of the world ; and they 
 had to share the fate of the ships of other nations from the pirates of the 
 ^Mediterranean Sea. For several of the Mohammedan States upon the 
 
COMMODORE DECATUR- 
 
 169 
 
 northern shore of Africa— Tripoli, Tunis, Algeria, and Morocco — made a 
 business of robbing all the passing merchant vessels they could catch — 
 unless they were well paid for letting them alone. 
 
 DECATUR COMPELLING THE DEY OF ALGIERS TO SIGN A TREATY. 
 
 After the Americans had made peace with England they began to 
 think about the right of pitying robbers to let them alone. So, in 1803, 
 when Tripoli asked for a larger sum than usual, it was refused. Of 
 
170 COMMODORE DECATUR. 
 
 course the angry little State began at once to capture our vessels, thinking 
 to bring us to terms. But still President Jefferson refused, and, instead 
 of the money, he sent out the little American navy of gunboats. Among 
 the other officers was Stephen Decatur, then first lieutenant on board the 
 Argus. He was only about twenty-three years old, but he had been in the 
 navy four years and had already become known as a brave and skillful 
 of&cer, with a talent for managing men as well as ships. 
 
 After the little squadron had been in the Mediterranean for some 
 time, one of the vessels, the Philadelphia, in some way, got aground in 
 the harbor of Tripoli, and was captured. Decatur asked permission of the 
 commander, Commodore Preble, to try to get her back. This, the chief 
 said, could not be done, but after awhile he told Decatur that he might go 
 and burn the frigate so that the Tripolitans could never use her. The 
 lieutenant set about his task at once. 
 
 The Intrepid, a small boat, was made ready, twenty men were picked 
 out of the squadron's crew ; and, one calm, dark night, under Decatur's 
 command, the party set out on their perilous errand. 
 
 ON BOARD WITH DRAWN SWORDS. 
 
 The Philadelphia was a good-sized frigate, carrying forty guns, and 
 now she was surrounded with other gunboats and batteries, ready to fire 
 on the Americans at any moment. Decatur managed to enter the harbor 
 and get alongside of the Philadelphia before the Tripolitans knew that the 
 peaceable-looking little vessel was manned by the hated " Americanoes." 
 Then they raised a great cry and rushed on deck, but it was too late. 
 Decatur and his men were on board, with drawn swords. The frightened 
 men of Tripoli were in too great a panic to fight, so in five minutes the 
 deck was cleared, and before they regained their senses the ship was in 
 flames from stem to stern and the Intrepid was gliding safely out of the 
 harbor. 
 
 For this gallant deed, Decatur was made a captain and presented with 
 a sword by Congress. More decided measures were soon taken against 
 the power of the Mediterranean pirates. A land expedition attacked them 
 on the easterly side, while the town was also bombarded from the harbor, 
 and Decatur, with three American gunboats, had a desperate fight with 
 nine of the enemy's vessels. He succeeded in capturing two of them, by 
 a close and sharp conflict. Just after the first one was taken, he heard 
 that his brother, James Decatur, had boarded another ship whose com- 
 
COMMODORE DECATUR. 171 
 
 mander had pretended to surrender, and had been treacherously slain by 
 the enemy. 
 
 Calling to his men to follow, he rushed on board of the murderer's 
 vessel, seized the treacherous commander and killed him in a deadly 
 hand-to-hand struggle. Decatur's men, following close upon him, had 
 surrounded him in the fight and beaten back the Tripolitans that tried to 
 force their way to the relief of their chief One, more successful than the 
 others in eluding the Americans' swords, was just aiming a fatal blow at 
 Decatur, when one of his followers, who had lost the use of both arms, 
 rushed up and received the blow intended for Decatur on his own head. 
 
 DECATUR'S NAME WAS A TERROR. 
 
 Several attacks were now made upon Tripoli by Commodore Preble, 
 in each of which Decatur took an active part. His name, it is said, 
 became a terror all along the Barbary coast, and helped to frighten the 
 Bey or chief of the State into making peace the next year, when he heard 
 that he was coming to attack him again as one of the leading commanders 
 of a still larger force than Preble's. 
 
 While our Government was busy with England, in the war of 1812, 
 the Dey of Algiers — seeming not to think of how affairs between America 
 and his neighbors of Tunis and Tripoli had ended — employed some of his 
 ships in seizing our merchant vessels and holding Americans in slavery ; 
 but he did not keep it up long after the Great Britain affairs were settled. 
 Three months after Decatur returned to New York from Bermuda, he 
 was at the head of a squadron bound for Algeria. In a month he passed 
 the straits of Gibraltar, and captured two of the Algerine squadron. He 
 then pushed on to the State and soon convinced the Dey that the best 
 thin^ he could do would be to immediately sign a treaty promising never 
 more to molest American ships again, and to restore at once all the 
 Americans he held captives. 
 
 The work accomplished by Decatur caused the whole of Europe to 
 respect the naval power of the United States. They had done what none 
 of the old navies dared to attempt. They had put a stop to the piracies 
 of the Barbary States, and were the means of freeing the ships of Europe 
 as well as of America from their robberies and from the heavy taxes they 
 had demanded from all nations for many years. 
 
 Stephen Decatur was born at Sinnepuxent, Maryland, January 5, 
 1779. He died at Bladeusburg, Maryland, March 22, 1820. 
 
172 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What war did the United States have in the beginning of the cen- 
 tury ? What did the Mohammedan states of Egypt do to American ship- 
 ping ? Who sent our navy to settle the trouble ? Who was the com- 
 mander of the expedition ? What position did Decatur hold under Com- 
 modore Preble ? Can you describe Decatur's gallant exploit in burning 
 the Philadelphia ? Can you describe his battle with the murderer of his 
 brother ? Why was he sent to make a treaty with the Dey of Algiers ? 
 What was the effect of his exploits upon the countries of northern Egypt ? 
 Where was Decatur born and where did he die ? 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 
 
 AND POCAHONTAS. 
 
 i) OCAHONTAS was a young Indian girl, said Uncle 
 Frank, and I think you would like to hear about her 
 and Captain John Smith. What I am going to tell 
 you happened in Virginia during the earl};- history of 
 our countr3\ 
 
 In 1605 Captain Smith joined the expedition of a 
 London compan}^ that was coming over to settle in 
 Virginia, in the vicinity of the James River. 
 
 Was not Virginia at that time nearly all a wilder- 
 ness ? Mabel asked. Was it not a vast forest ? 
 
 Yes, and was inhabited b}'- wild Indian tribes, said Uncle Frank. 
 Soon after the compan}^ reached their new home the settlement was in a 
 pitiable state. The provisions sent out from England had been spoiled 
 on the voyage, and the colonists were too indolent to cultivate the land, 
 or to seek to obtain supplies from the Indians. Sickness broke out among 
 them, owing to the unhealthy location, and b}^ the beginning of the winter 
 more than half their number had died. 
 
 From this time Smith was the actual head of the government. Food 
 was what was most wanted by the colou}^, and as it was now too late to 
 raise it, Smith exerted himself to obtain it from the Indians. He pur- 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 173 
 
 cliased a supply, and towards the close of the autumn the wild fowl which 
 frequent the region furnished additional provisions for the settlers. 
 
 The danger of a famine thus removed. Smith proceeded to explore 
 the country. In one of these expeditions he ascended the Chickahominy 
 River as far as he could go in his boat, and then leaving it in charge of 
 two men, struck into the interior with an Indian guide. His men dis- 
 obeyed his instructions, and were surprised and put to death by the In- 
 dians. Smith himself was taken prisoner, and surprised his captors by 
 his cool courage and self-possession. Instead of begging for his life, he 
 set to work to convince them 
 of his superiority over them, 
 and succeeded so well that 
 they regarded him with a sort 
 of awe. 
 
 He astonished them by 
 showing them his pocket com- 
 pass and explaining to them 
 its uses, and excited their ad- 
 miration by writing a letter to 
 his friends at Jamestown in- 
 forming them of his situation, 
 and of the danger to which 
 they were exposed, because 
 the Indians meant to attack 
 them. One of the savages 
 bore the letter to the settlers. 
 
 Smith had been captured 
 by a powerful chieftain of the 
 Pamunkey Indians ; but as captain john smith. 
 
 the curiosity of the neighboring tribes was greatly aroused by his pre- 
 sence, he was led in triumph from the Chickahominy to the villages on 
 the Rappahannock and the Potomac, and then taken through other towns 
 to the residence of the chief Here the medicine men of the tribe tried 
 for three days to ascertain his character and what he was going to do. 
 All this while he was calm and fearless, as if he were not alarmed for his 
 safety. He was regarded by the savages as a superior being, and was 
 treated with kindness, though kept a close prisoner. 
 
 His fate was referred to Powhatan for decision, as the c*:her tribes 
 
174 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 feared to bring the blood of such a strange being upon their heads. 
 Powhatan received the captive in great state, surrounded by his warriors. 
 " He wore," says Smith, " such a grave and majestical countenance as 
 drove me into admiration to see." Brought into the presence of Pow- 
 hatan, Smith was received with a shout from the assembled warriors. A 
 handsome young squaw brought him water to wash his hands, and 
 another gave him a bunch of feathers to dry them. Food was then set 
 before him, and while he applied himself to the repast a consultation was 
 held by the savages as to his fate. Smith watched the proceedings closely, 
 and was aware from the gestures of the council that his death had been 
 determined upon. » 
 
 The captive was seized and his hands were bound with strong cords. 
 Two brawn}' savages stood by to beat out his brains with their clubs. 
 During these proceedings Pocahontas, a child of ten or twelve years, 
 " dearly loved daughter " of Powhatan, touched with pity for the unfor- 
 tunate stranger, had been earnestly pleading with her father to spare his 
 life. Failing in this, she sprang foi-ward at the moment the Indian exe- 
 cutioners were about to kill their victim, and, throwing herself by his 
 side, clasped her arms about his neck and laid her head upon his to pro- 
 tect him from the impending stroke. This remarkable action in a child 
 so young moved the savages with profound astonishment. They regarded 
 it as showing the will of Heaven in favor of the captive, and it was deter- 
 mined to spare his life and seek his friendship. 
 
 THE CHILD OF THE FOREST AND THE BRAVE CAPTAIN. 
 
 Smith was released from his bonds, and was given to Pocahontas to 
 make beads and bells for her, and to weave for her ornaments of copper. 
 The friendship which the innocent child of the forest conceived for him 
 grew stronger every day, and ceased only with her life. Powhatan took 
 him into his favor, and endeavored to induce him to abandon the English 
 and cast his lot with him. He even sought to obtain his aid in an attack 
 upon the colony. Smith declined these offers, and succeeded in winning 
 their good-will for the Bnglish. In a short while the Indians allowed him 
 to go upon his promise to send to King Powhatan two cannon and a 
 grindstone. 
 
 He showed the Indians who had accompanied him two of the largest 
 cannon, and asked them to lift them. This was impossible ; nor could 
 they succeed any better with the grindstone. Smith then discharged the 
 
POCAHONTAS INTERCEDINa FOR THE IJFE OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 175 
 
176 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 canuou in their presence, which so frightened them that the}- refused to 
 have an3^thing to do with them. Having evaded his promise in this 
 manner, Smith bestowed more suitable presents upon his guides, and sent 
 them home with gifts for Powhatan and Pocahontas. The savage king 
 was doubtless well satisfied to let the " great guns '' alone after hearing 
 the report of his messengers concerning them, and was greatly pleased 
 with the gifts sent him. 
 
 Smith found the colony reduced to forty men and affairs in great 
 confusion. His companions had believed that he had fallen a victim to 
 
 the Indians, and he w^as greeted with 
 delight, as the need of his firm hand 
 had been sadly felt. 
 
 The friendship of the Indians for 
 
 him now enabled him to buy from the 
 
 savages the food necessary to sustain 
 
 the colonists through the winter. In 
 
 J many ways his captivity proved a great 
 
 \ blessing to the settlement. He had not 
 
 ' only explored the country between the 
 
 Rivers James and Potomac, and gained 
 
 ' considerable knowledge of the language 
 
 and customs of the natives, but had 
 
 disposed the Indian tribes subject to 
 
 Powhatan to regard the colony with 
 
 friendship. Had the savages been hos- 
 
 POCAHONTAS. tile during this winter the colony must 
 
 have perished of starvation ; but now, every few days throughout this 
 
 season, Pocahontas came to the fort accompanied by a number of her tribe 
 
 bearing baskets of com for the whites. 
 
 This friendly feeling lasted for some years, but was finally destroyed. 
 On the twenty-second of March, 1622, a general attack was made by the 
 savages upon all the settlements of the colony. On the previous night 
 the plot had been revealed to a converted Indian named Chauco, who at 
 once hastened to Jamestown, the principal settlement, and gave warning 
 of the danger. The alarm spread rapidl}' to the nearest settlements, but 
 those at a distance could not be reached in time to avert their fate. 
 
 Those settlements which had been warned were able to oifer a suc- 
 cessful resistance to their enemies, and some of those which were sur- 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 17' 
 
 prised beat off the Indians ; but the number of victims, men, women and 
 children, who fell this day amount to three hundred and forty-seven. All 
 these were 
 slain, and 
 their fate 
 would have 
 been shared 
 by the whole 
 colony but for 
 the warning 
 of the friend- 
 ly Indian. 
 
 The effect 
 on the colony 
 was appall- 
 ing. The dis- 
 tant planta- 
 tions had 
 been destroy- 
 ed by the sav- 
 ages, and out 
 of eighty set- 
 tlements only 
 eight were 
 saved. These, 
 and especial- 
 ly Jamestown 
 were crowded 
 beyond their 
 capacity with 
 fugitives who 
 had fled to 
 them for shel- 
 ter. Sickness 
 soon began to 
 prevail, the 
 
 public works were discontinued, and private industry was greatly dimin- 
 ished. A gloom rested over the entire colony, and the population fell 
 
 12 
 
 PLIGHT OF THE IITDIANS AFTER THE MASSACRE. 
 
178 
 
 "STONEWALL" JACKSON. 
 
 off. At the end of two 3^ears after the massacre, the number of inhabitants 
 had been reduced to two thousand. 
 
 Much sympathy was manifested for the suffering colonists by the 
 people of England. The city of London sent them liberal assistance, and 
 private individuals subsciibed to their need. King James was aroused 
 into an appearance of generous sympathy, and sent over to the colony a 
 supply of muskets which had been condemned as worthless in England. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who was Pocahontas ? Who was Captain John Smith ? What was 
 the condition of the settlement in Virginia ? How did Smith endeavor 
 to obtain food for the settlers ? What did his guides do when he was ex- 
 ploring the country and w^hat became of them ? What did the Indians 
 think of Smith after they had captured him ? What did they determine 
 to do with him? Who saved his life? What became of Smith? What 
 did the Indians think of the cannon and grindstone ? Can you describe 
 the attack made on the settlers in 1622. 
 
 ^% 
 
 "STONEWALL" JACKSOISr 
 
 THE BKILLIAI^T OOI^FEDERATE GEI^ERAL. 
 
 HALL I tell you to-day, said Uncle Frank, of one of 
 the great commanders in the Civil War ? He was 
 called '' Stonewall ;" who can tell me what was his 
 real name ? 
 
 Jackson, said James very promptly, but I do not 
 remember what his Christian name was. 
 
 It was Thomas Jonathan, said Elsie ; I remember 
 reading it in my history. 
 
 I think that was his name, continued Uncle 
 Frank. He was born in Virginia and graduated from the Military Acad- 
 emy at West Point and was sent fresh from the Academy into the midst 
 of the Mexican War the year it broke out — that is, in 1846. He soon won 
 the rank of first lieutenant. After the war was over he helped to build 
 the forts about New York Harbor and then went to Florida to take part in 
 
"STONEWAI.I." JACKSON. 
 
 ITU 
 
 settling the troubles with the Seminole Indians. Soon after this — in 1852 
 — he was chosen one of the instructors in the Virginia Military Academy 
 at Lexington, where the Washington and Lee University was afterwards 
 established. He taught natural philosophy and military tactics. He 
 made a good teacher, but he was so very bashful that the students used to 
 have a great deal of fun about him. 
 
 He had very strong opinions about States' rights, and as soon as the 
 war broke out he enlisted at once in the Confederate Army, where he was 
 made a colonel and placed in command at Harper's Ferry. From that 
 moment all his shyness left 
 him. He took the lead with his 
 men, as if he had always been 
 a commander. 
 
 When he had been three 
 months in the army he was 
 called to take part in the first 
 great battle of the war — that 
 of Bull Run, which was fought 
 July 21, 1 86 1, between the 
 armies of General P. G. T. Beau- 
 regard of the South, and Gen- 
 eral Irwin McDowell of the 
 North. During the battle some 
 of the heavy charges from the 
 North made the Southern lines 
 waver, but Jackson and his men 
 stood firm. One of his fellow- 
 officers caught sight of him and ''stonewall" jackson. 
 
 exclaimed to his own men, " See Jackson standing there like a stone wall I '* 
 From that time he was called " Stonewall Jackson ;" but it is also said 
 that his troops were first called " the Stonewall Brigade " because they 
 came from the stone wall counties of Virginia. 
 
 In September, after the conflict at Bull Run, Jackson was made a 
 major-general ; in January he was sent North to keep General Banks 
 occupied and prevent him from making any serious movements. He har- 
 assed the Union forces all he could, but did not dare to risk au}^ open bat- 
 tles because he had not enough men. In March twenty thousand more 
 were added to his force ; then he was ready to fight. 
 
180 «* STONEWALL" JACKSON. 
 
 In the meantime the Northern Army had been divided. General Mc- 
 Clellan with the greater part had started for Richmond by water. 
 Another body under General McDowell set out for the same place by 
 land, and another under General Banks was ordered to march down to 
 Manassas and to scour the Shenandoah valley. But General Jackson soon 
 stopped the scouring by falling upon General Banks at Strasburg, Vir- 
 ginia, where he not only beat him in short order, but chased him all the 
 way up to the Potomac. " 
 
 When the people at Washington heard of this they were greatly 
 alarmed, and McDowell, who had set out to join McClellan, hastened back 
 to protect the capital. This was exactly what the Southern people 
 wanted, for with McDowell up at Washington it would be easier to keep 
 McClellan away from Richmond. This was the next thing to be done 
 and Jackson immediately started to help Lee do it. The news of his raids 
 and also of his approach to Richmond made McClellan very much afraid 
 that he did not have men enough to fight so dangerous a foe, and finally 
 induced him to give up his purpose for the time. Jackson reached the 
 place just in time to help Lee drive him away. 
 
 UNION FORCES FALL BACK. 
 
 Two battles were fought while the Northern Army was retreating, 
 one at Gaines' Mills and one at Malvern Hill, neither of which were 
 decidedly won by either army ; but they favored the South, for McClellan 
 kept falling back to the James River. Here Jackson left him and started 
 north again, where another large Union army had been raised and sent 
 into Virginia under General Pope. 
 
 While on his way to meet this new force, Jackson came across his old 
 enemy, General Banks, at Cedar Mountain. There they had a battle in 
 which Banks was badly beaten. Jackson hurried on and in two weeks 
 more surprised a part of Pope's army at Manassas Junction, captured a 
 large quantity of guns and provisions, and then moved on to the rest of 
 the Northern Army, which was stationed on the old Bull Run battlefield. 
 Here, August 28th, occurred the second battle of Bull Riu *he victory 
 all on Jackson's side. * 
 
 The next morning, bright and early, he was up and away again. On 
 the loth of September he was at Martinsville, helping himself to a good 
 stock of ammunition and provisions which the Union Army had left oi\ 
 hearing of his approach. He followed them to Harper's Ferr}', stormed 
 
"STONEWALL" JACKSON. 18i. 
 
 t'iie place, and, without waiting to receive tlie surrender — only making 
 sure tHat it must come — went on to rejoin General Lee. The morning of 
 September lyth he was ready to take an important part in the battle of 
 Antietam. Lee said that whatever credit there was due to the South in 
 this engagement belonged to Jackson. But this was hardly just to himself. 
 
 ROUTED IN GREAT CONFUSION. 
 
 From the close of this battle until April Jackson was busy preparing 
 official reports and had no part upon the field. Then, May 2d, he engaged 
 in his last battle at Chancellorsville, Virginia. His victorious troops 
 again made fearful havoc among the Northern ranks. With one of his 
 quick, unexpected attacks, he surprised a large force and routed them in 
 terrible confusion. Jackson was everywhere in the thickest of the fight. 
 Night came on, and as he and his aids galloped back to the camp, his own 
 troops mistook them for enemies and fired upon them. Jackson was badly 
 wounded and eight days afterward he died. His loss was a terrible blow 
 to the South. Lee said that his right arm was gone. 
 
 As a general, Jackson had few equals. He had wonderful power over 
 his men ; he was perfectly fearless, but not reckless ; he saw when he 
 could strike a telling blow and never hesitated to do it ; but he also saw 
 when the case was hopeless, and would not risk the lives of his men. His 
 most brilliant charges were made after careful planning and close calcula- 
 tion of his own and his enemy's forces. As a man he was modest, 
 upright, and remarkably pure-minded. His loss, it has been said, was the 
 greatest that either party had yet had, in the fall of a single man. 
 
 General Thomas J. Jackson was born at Clarksburg, Virginia, Jan- 
 uary 21, 1824. He died at Guinea's Station, in the same State, May 10? 
 1863, a few days after he was wounded by his own men. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where was General Jackson educated ? Where was he sent after he 
 graduated? Where was he made military instructor? What was his 
 first command in the Civil War ? What Northern general did he twice 
 defeat ? Can you describe his brilliant successes ? In what battle did he 
 lose his life ? By whom was he shot ? Why did he receive the name of 
 " Stonewall " Jackson ? What were his traits of character? Where was 
 he born and when did he die ? 
 
QENEEAL PHIL SHERIDAN 
 
 THE DASHHsTG OATALRY COMMANDER 
 
 ENERAL SHERIDAN, said Uncle Frank, was one 
 of tlie bravest and most successful commanders we 
 liad during the Civil War. 
 
 Was it he, asked Elsie, that made the famous 
 ride we have heard so much about ? 
 
 The very man, replied Uncle Frank, and his 
 story is a thrilling one. I must tell it to you. 
 
 While the Confederate General Lee was at Cold 
 Harbor, in the summer of 1864, he detached General 
 Early with 8,000 men with orders to attack the Federals in the Shenan- 
 doah Valley. General Early appeared close to Martinsburg on the 2d of 
 July, and the Northern General Sigel left the place, losing some of his 
 stores. Early continued to advance, and Sigel continued to retreat, until 
 across the Potomac, when he took up a position on Maryland Heights. 
 
 GREAT ALARM IN WASHINGTON. 
 
 Early now advanced into Maryland, opposite the heights on which 
 Sigel had intrenched himself. Great alarm was felt in Washington when 
 it became known that a Confederate force had once more invaded the 
 North. In a short time, however, re-enforcements were sent to the en- 
 dangered section, though scattered bodies of Confederates appeared here 
 and there and laid waste many neighborhoods in revenge for the desola- 
 tion Hunter had caused in the Shenandoah Valley. 
 
 President Lincoln called upon Pennsylvania, New York, and Massa- 
 chusetts for militia with which to repel the invasion. The soldiers were 
 quickly brought together and sent forward. They were not the kind 
 with which to meet the Confederate veterans. So it was that when Gen- 
 eral Lew Wallace, their commander, was attacked on the 9th of July, at 
 Monocacy Junction, he was routed. His ill-disciplined troops gave way 
 and fled in a panic toward Baltimore, with the Confederate cavalry whoop- 
 ing and slashing at their heels. 
 182 
 
GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 
 
 183 
 
 By this time, as you may well suppose, Washington was in a state 
 of consternation. Barl}^ attacked Rockville, only fourteen miles west of 
 Washington, and Colonel Harry Gilmor, the famous Confederate cavalry 
 leader, whose home was in Baltimore, cut the communications between 
 that city and Philadelphia. He captured a railway train in which was 
 General Franklin, who, having been wounded in the South, was on his 
 way North for rest and a change of air. Gilmor's men were worn out by 
 their hard riding, 
 and did not keep 
 close watch of the 
 prisoners, who 
 managed to get 
 away. 
 
 Early was so 
 elevated by his 
 success, that he 
 now galloped to- 
 ward Washington 
 before which he 
 appeared on the 
 nth of July, and 
 engaged the bat- 
 teries of Fort Ste- 
 vens. You can 
 understand the 
 alarm in the na- 
 tional capital, 
 when in the dusk 
 of evening they 
 saw the flash of 
 the Confederate "'''''"'•••<-..::■•:.::- :;'^<;":-- ••' ' 
 
 guns and the cir- general phil sheridan. 
 
 cling of the horsemen from Lee's army. General Grant had been com- 
 municated with on the first alarm, and he sent a corps from before 
 Petersburg. Reinforcements had reached Washington when Early began 
 skirmishing before it, and they now sallied out under General Augur 
 and attacked the Confederates with great spirit. The latter were speedih- 
 defeated and withdrew, leaving a hundred dead and wounded behind. 
 
184 GENERAL PHIIv SHERIDAN. 
 
 Early withdrew up the Potomac, crossing it at Edward's Ferry, and 
 then passed through Snicker's Gap to the western side of the Shenandoah. 
 Defeating General Wright, who had been sent in pursuit, Early estab- 
 lished his head-quarters at Winchester and repelled an attack by Averill, 
 who was forced to seek shelter at Harper's Ferry. 
 
 Early had had a taste of invasion, and he tried it again. Crossing 
 the Potomac, on the 29th of July, a force of Confederates passed into 
 Maryland and advanced to Chambersburg, Pennsylvania. At that place 
 Gilmor's cavalry demanded 200,000 dollars in gold, which was not brought 
 forth. The city was then set on fire. When, Averill, riding hard, 
 reached the town, he found it burning, while the Confederate raiders, 
 after some close escapes, reached the southern bank of the Potomac. 
 
 SHERIDAN SENT WITH A BIG ARMY. 
 
 These raids were so annoying to the national government that it was 
 determined to put a stop to them. Grant being before Petersburg could 
 not give the matter the personal attention necessary. The departments 
 of western Virginia, Washington and the Susquehanna were united into 
 one division and placed under the command of Sheridan, at whose dis- 
 posal was a force of 40,000 men. 
 
 Early had only- about 13,000 troops with which to hold his position 
 at Winchester. You would think that under such circumstances the 
 Federals had nothing to fear, but for a time Grant refused to allow any 
 offensive movement on the part of Sheridan through dread of disaster. 
 The commander-in-chief of the Union armies fully realized the critical 
 state of the, country and he felt that he could afford no more reverses. 
 Finally, he told Sheridan that he might go ahead on condition that he 
 would so desolate the Shenandoah Valley that there would be nothing left 
 to invite invasion. 
 
 Early and Sheridan had been watching each other from opposite 
 sides of the Opequan, a small stream that enters the Potomac west of the 
 Shenandoah. Early, who was covering Winchester, sent a division to- 
 ward Martinsburg so as to threaten the right of the Federal line. By 
 doing so he exposed his own right to attack. 
 
 Sheridan at once crossed the stream and assailed Early. The latter 
 immediately recalled the division sent away and a long and furious en- 
 gagement followed. At first it was favorable to the Confederates, but a 
 timely charge by Sheridan shattered the Southern battle line and the rout 
 
GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 185 
 
 was complete. Early's army became a wild mob of cavalry, infantry and 
 artillery which scrambled headlong through Winchester with Sheridan's 
 force driving them like so many terrified sheep. General Rhodes of the 
 Confederate Army was killed and three other general officers wounded. 
 
 DROVE THE ENEMY LIKE A WHIRLWIND. 
 
 Five pieces of artillery, nine flags and 2,500 prisoners were taken. 
 The Confederates had fought well and the losses on the part of their 
 opponents were also severe. Having driven the enemy through Win- 
 chester, the Federals were too much exhausted to keep up the pursuit, 
 and Early re-formed his shattered ranks and took position at Fisher's 
 Hill near Strasburg. 
 
 Early felt secure in this place, but when attacked by Sheridan on 
 the 2ist of September he was routed with heavy loss and forced to retreat 
 still further up the valley. Sheridan followed, sending his cavalry to 
 Staunton, where they destroyed a railway bridge. About this time Early 
 received a reinforcement of a division from Longstreet's corps, and he in- 
 trenched himself at Brown's Gap, in the Blue Ridge Mountains, where he 
 was safe against any attack. 
 
 Sheridan now proceeded to carry out the orders of General Grant, to 
 devastate the Shenandoah Valley to that extent that there would be noth- 
 ing left to tempt invasion. How well he did the fearful task let him tell 
 in his own words : "The whole country from the Blue Ridge to the North 
 Mountain has been rendered untenable for a rebel army. I have 
 destroyed over two thousand barns filled with wheat and hay and farming 
 implements, over seventy mills filled with flour and wheat. I have driven 
 in front of the army over four thousand head of stock, having killed and 
 issued to the troops not less than three thousand sheep ; a large number 
 of horses have been obtained." 
 
 On the return of Sheridan down the valley, he was closely followed 
 by a Confederate force. The latter made an attack and was repulsed. 
 A more important engagement took place at Cedar Creek on the 19th ot 
 October. The Federals were intrenched on the north bank of that 
 stream, which runs into the Shenandoah, when at daylight the Confeder- 
 ates made their attack with great fury. Most of the pickets were captured 
 and the rest, roused from sleep, were driven in headlong confusion back 
 toward Middletown. Early seized eighteen of the Federals guns and 
 turned them on the fugitives. At last General Wright, the commander 
 
186 
 
 GENERAL PHIL SHERIDAN. 
 
 of tlie Federals, succeeded in rallying them, and tlie flight was ctecked. 
 At this time the Confederates were in the Federal camps where the 
 sight of food and drink was too tempting to be resisted. They stopped 
 
 SHERIDAN'S CAVALRY CHARGE AT CEDAR CREEK. 
 
 chasine the Federals and gave themselves up to feasting, and their enjoy- 
 ment was such as only famishing men placed in a similar situation can 
 
 '''''Seridan was not in this battle. Some time before, believing his 
 army fully safe, he had gone to Washington to consult with the govern- 
 
GENERAIv PHIL SHERIDAN. 18T 
 
 rnent. He was on liis return and liad reached Winchester, twenty miles 
 from the army, where he slept the night before the battle. Mounting his 
 horse the next morning to continue his ride, he heard the boom of artil- 
 lery. He knew at once that a battle was in progress, and spurred his 
 horse to a swift gallop. In the course of an hour or two he began to meet 
 stragglers. He reproved them in his well-known vigorous language, and 
 spurred his horse to a dead run. 
 
 THEY TURNED AND FOLLOWED HIM TO VICTORY. 
 
 Many of the stragglers, feeling the magnetism of his example, turned 
 about and followed him. He burst like a meteor among the men whom 
 General Wright was trying to form into line and inspired them all with 
 his own dashing heroism. He was cheered to the echo as he galloped 
 down the line and assured them that they were going right back to retake 
 the camps from the enemy. 
 
 He kept his word. Back to Cedar Creek he led his men and they 
 swept every thing before them. Early's troops fled in the wildest panic, 
 leaving their guns. Indeed so thoroughly were the Confederates routed 
 and broken up that nothing more was done by them in the Shenandoah 
 Valley during the war. That section had been cleared of them, and they 
 caused no more anxiety to General Grant and the national authorities. 
 
 The exploit of Sheridan increased his fame throughout the country. 
 I have no doubt you have read the poem of T. Buchanan Read, called 
 " Sheridan's Ride," which is a description of the Union general's furious 
 ride from Winchester '* twenty miles away," to the rescue of his panic- 
 stricken army. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What Confederate general received orders to attack the Union forces 
 in the Shenandoah Valley? How far north did General Early advance? 
 What did President Lincoln do to resist the invasion ? How did General 
 Franklin and other Union prisoners make their escape ? What did Gen- 
 eral Early next do ? How many men did General Sheridan have under 
 his command ? Can you describe his attack upon General Early and its 
 result? Can you describe Sheridan's destruction of property in the Shen- 
 andoah Valley ? Where and when did Sheridan make his famous ride ? 
 What effect did his presence have upon his defeated troops ? 
 
THEODORE ROOSEYELT 
 
 THE FAMOUS ROUGH RIDER. 
 
 
 HALL I tell you of one of our most celebrated men 
 this morning ? said Uncle Frank as the young folks 
 gathered about him. 
 
 Who is he ? James asked. Have we ever heard 
 of him ? 
 
 You must have heard of Colonel Roosevelt, and 
 his dashing regiment of Rough Riders that had so 
 much said about them and their bravery at the bat- 
 tles of La Quasina and San Juan, said Uncle Frank. 
 When Roosevelt brought his regiment back after the war ended he was 
 met at Montauk Point by hundreds of men whose admiration he had won 
 by his heroism and self-sacrifice. 
 
 He greeted them as best he could, but all his thoughts were with the 
 disembarking soldiers, whom he was so soon to bid farewell. 
 
 HE THOUGHT ONLY OF HIS MEN. 
 
 " You are being boomed for Governor of New York," his friends said 
 to him. "You will surely win." He seemed scarcely to hear them. 
 
 " Good,'' he said, and then pointed to the men in the boats. " What 
 do you think of the regiment?" he asked enthusiastically. 
 
 "There are campaign buttons already out with your picture on 
 them." ^ 
 
 " You must excuse me now," he said. " I must see that my men 
 are comfortable. I will talk about other things later." 
 
 For to Theodore Roosevelt, the men who had fought under him at 
 La Quasina and San Juan hill were more important, far more important, 
 than the Governorship of the State of New York. However, he was made 
 Governor of New York, and everybody felt that a strong man was at the 
 head of affairs in the Empire State. Let me tell you what kind of a man 
 he is. When Governor Roosevelt was surrounded by Congressmen and 
 Senators who were urging him to accept the nomination for the Vice- 
 188 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 189 
 
 Presidency, " Buck " Taylor, one (5f the famous marksmen of tlie Rough 
 Riders, sat down in the anteroom and wondered whether he would ever 
 get a chance to shake hands with his old commander. And then, through 
 the open doors, Governor Roosevelt saw the waiting man. His eyes 
 lighted up in welcome, he pushed through the group of men surrounding 
 him, elbowed a Congressman out of his way, dodged an anxious part}'- 
 , leader, and advanced with outstretched hand to greet " Buck " Taylor. 
 The Vice-Presidency could wait. A Rough Rider wanted to greet him. 
 
 WHAT HE DID FOR OUR NAVY. 
 
 The men who fought with him in Cuba scarcely knew him then, yet 
 they followed him through shot and shell. They would follow him now 
 through any danger you ever heard of. He was sent to the New York 
 Legislature when quite young. Afterward he held several offices in New 
 York City, and then President McKiuley made him Assistant Secretary 
 of the Navy. He was the same upright, fearless man in Washington he 
 had been in New York. He demanded two appropriations, amounting to 
 ;^8oo,ooo, to be expended on shot and shell for practice shooting in the 
 navy. There were loud outcries at this. 
 
 "What!" people exclaimed. "Give $800,000 to be thrown away 
 on nothing ? What titter nonsense 1 " 
 
 Yet by the time the war with Spain broke out the men behind the 
 American guns knew how to shoot. And, judging from the appearance 
 of the Spanish ships after a battle (they seldom went through more than 
 one), their shots went straight to the mark. 
 
 When Roosevelt resigned his position in the Navy Department and 
 went out in the wilds of the West to make good his claim that cowboys 
 and Indians could be gathered and drilled in thirty days into a magnifi- 
 cent fighting force people " pooh-poohed " the idea and advised him to 
 give it up. In a month the Rough Riders were in the Bast, ready to 
 take ship for Cuba. 
 
 When Roosevelt accepted the commission of lieutenant colonel and 
 announced his intention of leading his regiment in person his political 
 friends held up their hands in horror. 
 
 " Foolhardy I " they exclaimed. " You will get out of touch with 
 politics. You will ruin yourself" 
 
 The wires became hot with the news of the glorious conduct of the 
 Rough Riders. Fight after fight was reported and somehow or other 
 
190 THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt always seemed to be in the thick of it. When the 
 fighting was over and his men were dying of fever and foul food their 
 colonel overlooked military red-tape and exerted himself to the utmost to 
 relieve them. 
 
 "Will he never learn common sense?" wailed his friends at home. 
 " Now he is ruined beyond hope." 
 
 Yet when he walked down the gang plank at Montauk Point, New 
 Yorkers were standing on the dock and could scarcely wait for him to 
 land before handing him the Governorship. 
 
 As an athlete and a hunter Roosevelt has won great fame. What 
 he calls the most thrilling moment of his life he describes in one of his 
 books. It is an adventure with a grizzly bear. 
 
 BEAR TURNED ON HIM WITH FURY. 
 
 " I held true, aiming behind the shoulder," he writes, '' my bullet 
 shattered the point or lower end of his heart, taking out a big nick. In- 
 stantly the great bear turned with a harsh roar of fury and challenge, 
 blowing the bloody foam from his mouth so that I saw the gleam of his 
 white fangs ; and then he charged straight at me, crashing and bounding 
 through the laurel bushes, so that it was hard to aim. 
 
 " I waited until he came to a fallen tree, raking him, as he topped it, 
 with a ball which shattered his chest and went through the cavity of hi.s 
 body, but he had neither swerved nor flinched, and at the moment I did 
 not know that I had struck him. He came steadily on, and in another 
 second was almost upon me. I fired for his forehead but my bullet went 
 low, entering his open mouth, smashing his lower jaw and going into his 
 neck. 
 
 " I leaped to one side, almost as I pulled the trigger ; and through 
 the hanging smoke the first thing I saw was his paw, as he made a vicious 
 side blow at me. The rush of his charge carried him past. As he struck 
 he lurched forward, leaving a pool of bright blood where his muzzle hit 
 the ground ; but he recovered himself and made two or three onwards, 
 while I hurriedly jammed a couple of cartridges into the magazine, my 
 rifle holding only four, all of which I had fired. Then he tried to pull up 
 but as he did so his muscles seemed suddenly to give way, his head 
 dropped and he rolled over and over like a shot rabbit. Each of my first 
 three bullets had inflicted a mortal wound." 
 
 A Western trapper tells another story of a hunting adventure. 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVELT. ISr 
 
 " You know Colonel Roosevelt is very near-sighted," lie says, " and 
 he carries more kinds of glasses than an Englishman ; one pair to read 
 with, one to shoot with, and another to walk with. When the bear 
 charged us he had on his walking glasses ; and when I told him that the 
 beast was upon him he coolly took off these glasses, folded them up, and 
 put them away in his pocket, took out and wiped his shooting glasses, 
 and put them on as quietly and deliberately as if there was not a bear in 
 the whole country. 
 
 " By the time he had got his glasses adjusted the bear was near, but 
 he pulled up his gun and killed him in his tracks, and did not seem in 
 the least bit excited." 
 
 Many good stories are told of Colonel Roosevelt's care of his precious 
 eye-glasses. One of the Rough Riders tells this tale : 
 
 STORIES ABOUT ROOSEVELT'S EYE-GLASSES. 
 
 " Colonel Roosevelt had been in the habit of wearing nose-glasses 
 with a black silk cord attached, but the arrangement was highly unsuited 
 to a hunting trip, where the glasses themselves would be liable to fall off 
 constantly and the cord to catch on twigs. So he put in their place very 
 large, round spectacles with steel hooks for the ears, and had a dozen 
 pairs mounted. These he stowed away in his clothing, trying to dis- 
 tribute them so no one accident would break them all. One pair was 
 sewed in his blouse, another in his belt, another in his hat, two in his 
 saddle-bags, and so on. 
 
 "At the fight at La Quasina his horse was barked by a bullet while 
 being held by an orderly and plunged frantically against a tree. Colonel 
 Roosevelt came rushing up, all anxiety, and began prying under the 
 saddle flap. 
 
 " ' They haven't hurt the nag, sir,' said the orderly. 
 
 " ' I know,' replied the Colonel, with tears in his voice, ' but blast 
 'em, they've smashed my specs I' " 
 
 When Roosevelt first went and bought a ranch in the Bad Lands of 
 Dakota, the cowboys tried to treat him as a New York dude, but that did 
 not last long. After a man named De Mores had broken up a gang of 
 horse thieves and desperadoes, and had left the country, some of the gang 
 made attempts to continue their stealing. They were openly aided by 
 the Sheriff. 
 
 Roosevelt called a meeting of all the ranchers nearby, summoned the 
 
19ii THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 
 
 Sheriff, and, with his gun iu his haud, called that official a liar and a 
 horse thief. A tenderfoot (one not used to rough life) doesn't often get a 
 chance to use such language twice, but the Sheriff had to take his medi- 
 cine and resign. 
 
 On his own ranch, too, he showed the stuff from which he was made. 
 He bought the most unmanageable cow ponies he could find iu the country, 
 and when his men grumbled at having to ride them, the " dude " picked 
 out the worst horse of the lot and broke it. At one time he was thrown 
 and four of his ribs were fractured, but he picked himself up, remounted 
 and conquered the beast before dressing his injuries. 
 
 HE WAS THE MANLIEST OF THEM ALL. 
 
 His shooting, too, won the respect of the rough ranchmen. Roose- 
 velt could not see ten j^ards in front of him without his glasses, and is a 
 poor shot with a revolver, but give him a rifle and a long range shot and 
 he can do some fancy work. Further than this, he won his men's admi- 
 ration by putting on the gloves with the biggest and roughest cow- 
 punchers on his ranch. 
 
 He has summed up his philosophy of life in his own words. 
 " If you could speak commandingly to the young men of our nation," 
 he was asked on one occasion, " what would you say to them ?" His re- 
 ply was : 
 
 " I'd order them to work. I'd try to develop and work out an ideal 
 of mine — the theory of the duty of the leisure class to the community. I 
 have tried to do it by example, and it is what I have preached : first and 
 foremost, to be American, heart and soul, and to go in with any person, 
 heedless of anything but that person's qualifications. 
 
 " For myself, I'd work as quick beside Pat Dugan as with the last 
 descendant of a patroou ; it literally makes no difference to me so long as 
 the work is good and the man is in earnest." 
 
 An incident illustrating Colonel Roosevelt's devotion to the men of 
 his regiment was told by Trooper Burkholder, of the Rough Riders. 
 Burkholder was all through the active campaign with the Rough Riders, 
 and returned with them. He was away on furlough on account of a 
 slight attack of swamp fever when the Rough Riders were mustered out. 
 and thus missed, as he puts it, " an opportunity to say good-bye to the 
 most gallant commander and the truest man that a soldier was ever priv- 
 ileged to fight under." 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVElvT. in 
 
 " Only lis few men wlio were witH liim," said BnrtlioMer, " know 
 how considerate lie was of tis at all times. There was one case in parti- 
 cular that illustrates this better than any I can recall. It happened after 
 the fight at La Quasina. The men were tired with the hard march and 
 the fighting, and hunger was gnawing at every stomach. Besides, we 
 had our first men killed there, and, taking it all in all, we were in an ngly 
 humor. The usual shouting, cracking of jokes, and snatches of song 
 were missing, and everybody appeared to be in the dumps. 
 
 THE COLONEL'S FEAST OF BEEF STEW. 
 
 " Well, things hadn't improved a bit, — in fact, were getting worse 
 along toward meal time, when the Colonel began to move about among 
 the men, speaking encouragingly to each group. I guess he saw some- 
 thing was up, and no doubt he made up his mind then and there to im- 
 prove at least the humor of the men. There's an old saying that a man 
 can best be reached through his stomach, and I guess he believes in thati 
 tnaxim. Shortly afterward he saw the Colonel, his cook, and two of the 
 troopers in Company I strike out along the narrow road toward the town, 
 and we wondered what was up. 
 
 " It was probably an hour or so after this, and during a little resting 
 spell in our work of clearing ground and making things a little camp-like, 
 that the savory and almost forgotten odor of beef stew began to sweep 
 through the clearing. Men who were working stopped short and began 
 to sniff, and those who had stopped work for a breathing spell forgot to 
 breathe for a second. 
 
 " Soon they joined in the snifiing, and I'll wager every one of us was 
 sniffing as hard as he knew how. Oh, but didn't that smell fine I We 
 weren't sure that it was for lis, but we had a smell of it anyway. Quickly 
 drooping spirits revived, and as the fumes of the boiling stew became 
 stronger the humor of the men improved. We all jumped to our work 
 with a will, and picks, shovels and- axes were plied in a race-horse fashion, 
 while the men would stop now and then to raise their heads and draw a 
 long breath and exclaim : * Wow I but that smells good.' 
 
 " We were finally summoned to feed, and then you can imagine our 
 
 surprise. There was a big boiler and beside it a crowd of mess tent-men 
 
 dishing out real beef stew 1 We could hardly believe our eyes, and I had 
 
 to taste mine first to make sure it wasn't a dream. You should have seen 
 
 the expressions on the faces of the men as they gulped down the stew, 
 13 
 
m THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 
 
 and we all lauglied when one New York man yelled out : * And it's got 
 real onions in it, too I ' 
 
 " After we liad loaded np we began to wonder wliere it all came from 
 and tiien the two Troop I men told how the Colonel had purchased the 
 potatoes and onions while his own cook secured the meat from Siboney. 
 
 " You probably won't believe it, but the bushel of potatoes cost Colo- 
 nel Roosevelt almost $60, and he had to pay thirty odd good American dol- 
 lars to get the onions, but then he knew what his men wanted, and it was 
 always his men first with him. There was a rush to his tent when we 
 learned this, and if you ever heard the cheering I'm sure you wouldn't 
 wonder why the Rough Riders all love their Colonel. 
 
 " I see," said Burkholder, " that in his address to the men at Camp 
 Wikoflf the Colonel told how he had to hurry at the San Juan Hill fight 
 to save himself from being run over by the men. That's just like him to 
 say that ; but he probably forgets that more than half of the men never 
 ran so fast before and never will again, as they had to run to keep up with 
 him. If Colonel Roosevelt lived in Arizona we would give him any office 
 he wanted without any election nonsense." 
 
 LED HIS MEN AND CHEERED THEM. 
 
 Mason Mitchell, an actor and a member of Troop K, was wounded at 
 Santiago on July ist, during the artillery fire just before the famous 
 charge of San Juan Hill. He was lying down when a piece of shell 
 struck him on the shoulder and ploughed its way around, following his 
 ribs, lodging in his right breast. 
 
 "I was just about to rise," he said, "when the shell struck me. 
 Pieces of it also struck two other men. It toppled me over and sent me 
 sprawling down the hill until I rolled up against another Rough Rider, 
 who had been a New York policeman. He also was wounded, and we lay 
 there until another member of my troop named Van Schaick, also a New 
 Yorker, came along. He wet his handkerchief from his canteen and 
 bathed my wounds. After that I was picked up and taken to a field hos- 
 pital and later transferred to Key West. 
 
 " Colonel Roosevelt displayed conspicuous courage. He was in sight 
 all the time, cheering on his men, and constantly exposed to the Spanish 
 fire." 
 
 A poet in Colorado wrote a poem on Roosevelt, said Uncle Frank, 
 and I think it is good enough to read to you ; 
 
THEODORE ROOSEVEI^T. 1S6 
 
 "TEDDY" THE ROUGH RIDER. 
 
 Now, doff your liats to Teddy, boys, for lie's tlie proper man. 
 His life has been a triumph since its starting first began. 
 His pluck and spirit in the days he roamed upon the range 
 Have builded up a character no circumstance can change. 
 
 From a cowboy on the " round-up " to the Governor of his State, 
 We've always found a man in him that's strictly up to date. 
 As a daring " bronco buster," or a Colonel in command, 
 We'll greet him with McKinley with an open, hearty hand. 
 
 He served his country nobly, and fired his faithful boys 
 With patriotic valor, amid the cannon's noise. 
 And, as they to him were loyal, in battle's fierce array, 
 So will the voters prove to be upon election day. 
 
 Now doff your hats to Teddy, boys, the man with grit and nerve 
 In every office that he fills, the people will he serve. 
 Progression is his policy, no laggard in the race, 
 He'll lead us on to victory, whatever be the pace. 
 
 Mr. Roosevelt was born in the city of New York in 1858. He grad- 
 uated at Harvard College in 1880. After holding a number of political 
 offices, he fought through the Spanish War as leader of the Rough 
 Riders in 1898 and in November of the same year was elected Governor 
 of New York. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Can you describe the scene when Mr. Roosevelt returned from Cuba 
 with his regiment ? What great office was immediately offered to him ? 
 How did he treat one of the Rough Riders who was waiting to see him ? 
 What office did he hold in Washington under McKinley ? Why did he 
 want a large sum of money appropriated for the use of the navy ? What 
 did he do when the Spanish war broke out ? Can you describe his ad- 
 venture with a grizzly bear ? Can you narrate the story of a western 
 traveller ? What about Roosevelt's eye-glasses ? How did he treat the 
 sheriff on the western ranch ? What is his advice to young men ? 
 
LIEUTENANT HOBSOE" 
 
 A'KD HIS DARING DEED. 
 
 IKUTENANT HOBSON, said Uncle Frank, became 
 a famous liero in one night. He performed a deed 
 that was most daring, and risked his life and the lives 
 of the brave fellows who went with him, in an effort 
 to " bottle np " the Spanish fleet in the harbor of 
 Santiago. 
 
 The Spanish fleet was inside the harbor, which 
 had a very narrow entrance, and Admiral Sampson 
 with his squadron was blockading the harbor ; that 
 
 is, he was trying to keep the Spanish ships shut in, or was ready to attack 
 
 them if they came out. 
 
 TO SINK A BIG SHIP ACROSS THE MOUTH OF THE HARBOR. 
 
 Lieutenant Hobson, at that time assistant naval constructor on 
 Admiral Sampson's flagship, proposed to sink the collier or coal ship 
 Merrimac, a big vessel, right across the narrow mouth of the harbor and 
 prevent the ships of the Spanish Admiral Cervera from escaping. The 
 jilan was approved by Admiral Sampson. Volunteers were called for 
 );o go with Hobson on the dangerous trip and whole cheering crews 
 stepped forward for the hazardous adventure. About three hundred in 
 the New York, one hundred and eighty in the Iowa and like proportions 
 in the other vessels volunteered. Mr. Hobson picked three men from the 
 New York and three from the Merrimac. Besides them one man went as 
 a stowaway against orders. 
 
 The plan had been well thought out by Lieutenant Hobson, and every 
 detail had been foreseen. Sitting in his cabin on the flagship just before 
 leaving on his perilous trip, Hobson said : 
 
 " I shall go right into the harbor until about foiir hundred yards past 
 the Estrella battery, which is behind Morro Castle. I do not think they 
 can sink me before I reach somewhere near that point. The Merrimac has 
 196 
 
UEUTENANT HOBSON. IW 
 
 seven thousand tons buoyancy, and I shall keep her full speed ahead. 
 She can make about ten knots. 
 
 '' When the narrowest part of the channel is reached I shall put her 
 helm hard aport, stop the engines, drop the anchor, open the sea connec- 
 tions, touch off the torpedoes and leave the Merrimac a wreck, lying 
 athwart the channel, which is not as broad as the Merrimac is long. 
 
 TORPEDOES TO MAKE QUICK WORK. 
 
 " There are ten 8-inch torpedoes below the water line on the Merri- 
 mac's port side. They are placed on her side against the bulkheads and 
 vital spots, connected wath each other by a wire under the ship's keel. 
 Each torpedo contains eighty-two pounds of gunpowder. Each torpedo is 
 also connected with the bridge, and they should do their work in a minute, 
 and it will be quick work even if done in a minute and a quarter. 
 
 " On deck there will be four men aud myself In the engine room 
 there will be two other men. This is the total crew and all of us will be 
 in our underclothing, with revolvers and ammunition in the watertight 
 packing strapped around our waists. Forward there will be a man on 
 deck, and around his waist will be a line, the other end of the line being 
 made fast to the bridge, where I will stand. 
 
 "By that man's side will be an axe. When I stop the engines I 
 shall jerk this cord, and he will thus get the signal to cut the lashing 
 which will be holding the forward anchor. He will then jump overboard 
 and swim to the four-oared dingy which we shall tow astern. The dingy 
 is full of life buoys, and is unsinkable. In it are rifles. It is to be held 
 by two ropes, one made fast at her bow, and one at her stern. The first 
 man to reach her will haul in the tow line, and pull the dingy out to star- 
 board. The next to leave the ship are the rest of the crew. The quarter- 
 master at the wheel will not leave until after having put it hard aport, 
 and lashed it so, he will then jump overboard. 
 
 " Down below the man at the reversing gear will stop the engines, 
 scramble on deck, and get over the side as quickly as possible. 
 
 " The man in the engine-room will break open the sea connections 
 with a sledge hammer, and will follow his leader into the water. This 
 last step insures the sinking of the Merrimac, whether the torpedoes work 
 or not. 
 
 " By this time I calculate the six men will be in the dingy, and the 
 Merrimac will have swung athwart the channel to the full length of her 
 
198 LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 
 
 three hundred yards of cable, which will have been paid out, before the 
 anchors were cut loose. 
 
 " Then all that is left for me is to touch the button. I shall stand on 
 the starboard side of the bridge. The explosion will throw the Merrimac 
 on her starboard side. Nothing on this side of New York city will be 
 able to raise her after that." 
 
 READY TO MEET DEATH. 
 
 " And you expect to come out of this alive ?" asked a companion of 
 Mr. Hobson. Mr. Hobson said-: 
 
 " I suppose the Bstrella battery will fire down on us a bit, but the 
 ships will throw their searchlights in the gunners' faces, and they won't 
 see much of us. Then, if we are torpedoed, we should even then be able 
 to make the desired position in the channel. It won't be so easy to hit 
 us, and I think the men should be able to swim to the dingy. I may 
 jump before I am blown up. But I don't see that it makes much differ- 
 ence what I do. I have a fair chance of life either way. If our dingy 
 gets shot to pieces we shall then try to swim for the beach right under 
 Morro Castle." 
 
 Hobson has described his exploit and I will give it to you, said Uncle 
 Frank, in his own language. 
 
 *' It was about three o'clock in the morning when the Merrimac 
 entered the narrow channel and steamed in under the guns of Morro Cas- 
 tle. The stillness of death prevailed. It was so dark that we could 
 scarcely see the headland. We had planned to drop our starboard anchor 
 at a certain point to the right of the channel, reverse our engines and then 
 swing the Merrimac around, sinking her directly across the channel. 
 
 " This plan was adhered to, but circumstances rendered its execution 
 impossible. When the Merrimac poked her nose into the channel our 
 troubles commenced. The dead silence was broken by the wash of a 
 small boat approaching us from the direction of the shore. I made her 
 out to be a picket boat. 
 
 " She ran close up under the stem of the Merrimac and fired several 
 shots from what seemed to be 3-pounder guns. The Merrimac's rudder 
 was carried away by this fire. That is why the collier was not sunk 
 across the channel. 
 
 " We did not discover the loss of the rudder until Murphy cast 
 anchor. We then found that the Merrimac would not answer to the 
 
LIEUTENANT HOBSON. 1«9 
 
 helm, and were compelled to make tlie best of the situation. Tlie run up 
 the channel was very exciting. The picket boat had given the alarm, and 
 in a moment the guns of the Vizcaya, the Almirante Oquendo and of the 
 shore batteries were turned upon us. 
 
 " Mines and torpedoes under water also were exploded all about us, 
 adding to the excitement. The mines did no damage, although we could 
 hear rumbling and could feel the ship tremble. We were running with 
 our lights, and only the darkness saved us from utter destruction. When 
 the ship was in the desired position and we found that the rudder was 
 gone I called the men on deck. While they were launching the catama- 
 ran, or raft, I touched off the explosives. 
 
 " At the same moment two torpedoes, fired by the Reina Mercedes, 
 struck the Merrimack amidships. I cannot say whether our own explo- 
 sives or the Spanish torpedoes did the work, but the Merrimac was lifted 
 out of the water and almost rent asunder. As she settled down we scram- 
 bled overboard and cut away the catamaran. A great cheer went up from 
 the forts and war ships as the hold of the collier foundered, the Spaniards 
 thinking that the Merrimac was an American ship. 
 
 STRUGGLING FOR LIFE IN THE WATER. 
 
 " We attempted to get out of the harbor in the catamaran, but a 
 strong tide was running, and daylight found us still struggling in the 
 water. Then for the first time the Spaniards saw us, and a boat from the 
 Reina Mercedes picked us up. It then was shortly after five o'clock in 
 the morning, and we had been in the water more than an hour. We were 
 taken aboard the Reina Mercedes and later were sent to Morro Castle. 
 In Morro we were confined in cells in the inner side of the fortress, and 
 were there the first day the fleet bombarded Morro. I could only hear the 
 whistling of the shells and the noise they made when they struck, but I 
 judged from the conversation of the guards that the shells did considera- 
 ble damage. 
 
 " After this bombardment Mr. Ramsden, the British Consul, pro- 
 tested, and we were removed to the hospital. There I was separated from 
 the other men in our crew, and could see them only by special permis- 
 sion. Montague and Kelly, two of my men, fell ill, suffering from mala- 
 ria, and I was permitted to visit them twice. Mr. Ramsden was very kind 
 to us, and demanded that Montague and Kelly be removed to better quar- 
 ters in the hospital. This was done. 
 
200 I<IEUTENANT HOBSON. 
 
 " As for myself, there is little to say. The Spanisli were not disposed 
 to do much for the comfort of any of the prisoners at first, but, after om 
 army had taken some of their men as prisoners our treatment was better. 
 Food was scarce in the city, and I was told that we fared better than the 
 Spanish officers." 
 
 Hobson was asked, " Where were you when the torpedoes and mines 
 exploded ?" 
 
 " We were all aft," he said, " lying on the deck. Shells and bullets 
 whistled around. Six-inch shells from the Vizcaya came tearing into the 
 Merrimac, crashing into wood and iron and passing clear through, whi!^ 
 the plunging shots from the fort broke through her decks, 
 
 NOT A MAN COULD MOVE. 
 
 " * Not a man must move,' I said ; and it was only owing to the splerv 
 did discipline of the men that we all were not killed, as the shells rained 
 over us and minutes became hours of suspense. The men's mouths grew 
 parched, but we must lie there till daylight, I told them. Now and agaia 
 one or the other of the men lying with his face glued to the deck and 
 wondering whether the next shell would not come our way would say^ 
 ' Hadn't we better drop off now, sir ?' but I said, * Wait till daylight.' Ki 
 would have been impossible to get the catamaran anywhere but on to th« 
 shore where the soldiers stood shooting, and I hoped that by daylight we 
 might be recognized and saved. The grand old Merrimac kept sinking 
 I wanted to go forward and see the damage done there, where nearly all 
 the fire was directed. One man said that if I rose it would draw all tha 
 fire on the rest, so I lay motionless. 
 
 " It was splendid the way those brave men behaved. The fire of the 
 soldiers, the batteries and the Vizcaya was awful. When the water came 
 up on the Merrimac's decks the catamaran floated amid the wreckage, 
 but she was still made fast to the boom, and we caught hold of the edges 
 and clung on, our heads only being above water. 
 
 " A Spanish launch came toward the Merrimac. We agreed to cap- 
 ture her and run. Just as she came close the Spaniards saw us, and half 
 a dozen marines jumped up and pointed their rifles at our heads sticking 
 out of the water. 
 
 " ' Is there any officer in that boat to receive a surrender of prisoners 
 of war ?' I shouted. An old man leaned out under the awning and waved 
 his hand. It was Admiral Cervera. The marines lowered their rifles, 
 
NATHANIEL GREENE. 201 
 
 and we were helped into the launch. Then we were put in cells in Morro 
 Castle." 
 
 Hobson and his men were afterward exchanged for Spanish prisoners 
 the Americans had captured, and they were accorded a wonderful wel- 
 come by the public wherever they went. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Can you describe the mouth of Santiago harbor ? What did Hobson 
 propose to do to ^' bottle up " the Spanish fleet ? How many men did he 
 take with him ? Can you describe the sinking of the Merrimac ? How 
 did Hobson and his men escape death ? Where were they imprisoned ? 
 How did they gain their liberty ? What was thought of Hobson's exploit ? 
 
 NATHANIEL GEEENE 
 
 WASHINGTON'S FATOETTE GENEEAL. 
 
 NCLE FRANK began his talk by quoting what Wash- 
 ington once said, which was, that if any accident 
 should befall him so that he would be unable to lead 
 the American army, the one general whom he would 
 name to take his place would be Nathaniel Greene. 
 
 When the news of the battle of Lexington reached 
 Warwick County, Rhode Island, he was a member of 
 the Kentish Guards of Coventry, and with them he 
 started at once for Boston , and when the Tory Gov- 
 ernor ordered them back Greene was one of the four who, refusing to 
 obey, mounted the first horses they could find and galloped on to Boston. 
 At this time he was the foremost man in Coventry, and general in 
 his State militia. He had been expelled from the Society of Friends, or 
 Quakers, into which he had been bom, because he not only loved military 
 life, but was also determined to fight against the armies of Great Britain. 
 
 He had begun life by working on his father's farm and at his iron 
 forge, and after working long over-hours to earn money to buy books, he 
 had sat up late at night to study them, until he had succeeded in getting 
 
202 
 
 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 a pretty good education. His knowledge and good sense gained for him 
 the respect of all the leading men in and about his town, and he had been 
 a member of the Rhode Island Colonial Assembly for five years before 
 the battle of Lexington was fought and the Kentish Guards started for 
 the seat of war. The Assembly of Rhode Island soon after raised a force 
 of sixteen hundred men, and Greene was by common consent appointed 
 major-general. This was in May, 1775, and from that time until the 
 army was disbanded at the close of the war in 1783. 
 
 The good effects of hard study in his earlier days now began to be 
 
 seen. He soon mastered 
 military tactics, and drill- 
 ed his raw troops so very 
 well that two months later, 
 when Washington took 
 command of the Colonial 
 forces, he pronounced the 
 troops of Greene ''the best 
 disciplined in the whole 
 army." Washington and 
 Greene became fast friends 
 from their first meeting. 
 The great commander saw 
 at once that he could place 
 confidence in this young 
 Rhode Islander, and he 
 did. 
 
 But during the next 
 battle — that of Long Isl- 
 GENERAL NATHANIEL. GREENE. and — Greene lay help- 
 
 less with an attack of fever, within sound of the firing but scarcely able 
 to raise his head from the pillow. This was a greater trial than any he 
 ever had on the field. He had made himself thoroughly familiar with 
 all the points along the shore. He knew just where the most dangerous 
 places were, and just where the strongest blows could be struck better 
 than any one else, and now he must lie still and wait for the result. He 
 actually cried when told of the Americans' defeat and the great havoc 
 made in his own favorite regiment. Just as soon as he dared leave his 
 bed, he mounted his horse and again took his command. 
 
NATHANIEI. GREENE. 
 
 208 
 
 When Washington withdrew to White Plains he sent Greene to 
 watch Staten Island, and a little later he was pnt in charge of the troops 
 in New Jersey. When the brilliant dash at Trenton was made Greene 
 was Washington's best man, and his assistance at Princeton had much 
 to do with that victory. 
 
 While the army was encamped at Morristown, New Jersey, during the 
 
 ''now put watts into them, boys." 
 
 second winter of the war, Greene was sent by Washington to Congress to 
 set before it the condition of the army and the need of more troops, what 
 dangers it would have to meet, and what was needed to prepare for them. 
 Only a part of the needed assistance was gained, and the spring opened 
 with poor prospects for the patriots. 
 
 In the battle of Brandy wine, the first in the campaign of 1777, Greene 
 distinguished himself during the retreat of the defeated Americans by his 
 
204 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 coolness and firmness in holding the British back from their hot pursuit 
 until the disordered ranks could reform. Finding a favorable spot in a 
 narrow pass through a thicket, he made a stand and held the pass until 
 nightfall. 
 
 It is said that if his advice had been taken, both the defeat at Brandy- 
 wine and that at German town, immediately after, might have been avoided. 
 He was asked to select places for the army each time, and chose strong 
 ones where they could have held their ground against attack, but his ad- 
 vice was overruled by other generals, who were anxious to fight in the 
 open field, and defeat was the result. When the army went into camp at'. 
 Valley Forge, during the third winter of the war, Greene was made, 
 quartermaster-general. 
 
 The battle of Monmouth was their first engagement after breaking 
 camp. It was here that Lee, disobeying Washington's order, began the. 
 retreat, which but for General Greene would have been carried out with, 
 great loss to the Americans. Greene promptly came up with his force,, 
 and, seeing that Lee's action prevented him from carrying out his own. 
 orders, he resolved to act quickly, without direction, and took a good 
 stand where he could stop the course of the enemy, which was moving 
 upon Washington's troops in great force. In this he drew a large part 
 of them away from their attack on Washington toward himself, but his 
 men met their furious charge with the same steady nerves and cool de- 
 termination showed by their commander. 
 
 THE CHAPLAIN HURRIES TO GET WADDING. 
 
 At one stage of the battle the wadding of the men gave out, and 
 Caldwell, chaplain of one of the regiments, mounting his horse, galloped 
 to the Presbyterian church, and returned with an armful of Dr. Watts' 
 hymn books, wliich he distributed among the troops, with the pious in- 
 junction, " Now put Watts into them, boys 1 " 
 
 The Americans held their ground and poured volley after volley into 
 the British ranks until they were glad to draw back. That night the 
 Americans slept upon the ground with their arms at their sides as they 
 had fought ; the next morning, when the daylight appeared, the British 
 were nowhere to be seen. 
 
 Greene's next active service was at Newport, where he was sent to 
 assist Sullivan in an attack upon the British. Here he again held his 
 ground against the British regulars until they were forced to retire. 
 
NATHANIEL GREENK. 206 
 
 Then tlie American force marclied to a place of safety before the British 
 were ready to make another attack. This, too, was under very unfavora- 
 ble circumstances, for there had been a disagreement between General 
 Sullivan and the French commander, D'Estaing, and the Frenchman had 
 left the Americans in such danger that they were very angry. Sullivan 
 prepared a sharp letter to send to Congress, and Washington ordered 
 Greene to go to Congress and try to make peace between Sullivan and 
 D'Estaing. 
 
 Greene arrived on the same morning that Sullivan's letter came. In 
 the gallery sat D'Estaing, the French Minister, and some other distin- 
 guished Frenchmen. As the Clerk was opening the letter, Greene, who 
 sat near the President, hastily wrote to him on a slip of paper, " Don't let 
 that letter be read until you have looked it over." The President whis- 
 pered to the Clerk not to read it, other business came up, and the offensive 
 letter was not read. If it had been, probably the French would have 
 refused at once to help the Americans any more. A few words in time 
 had saved to the nation its greatest ally, and Greene returned to camp. 
 
 HIS ENEMIES COULD NOT HARM HIM. 
 
 During the months that followed, very little fighting was done by any 
 of the forces, and the idle hands found mischief, as they always do. Envy 
 and jealousy broke out among the officers. Greene, as well as Washing- 
 ton, had some very active enemies. He was accused of using his office of 
 quartermaster for his own profit. Congress took the matter up, and 
 Greene was asked to give an account of all his property. He easily 
 proved that these statements were false, but he deeply resented them and 
 soon resigned the office of quartermaster. In less than six months his 
 slanderers had reason to wish they had kept still and let his management 
 alone. 
 
 In the early part of 1780 Washington left Greene to guard Spring- 
 field, New Jersey, while he moved north to protect West Point, which the 
 British seemed to be threatening. As soon as Washington was well on 
 his way the British suddenly turned and marched toward Springfield five 
 thousand strong. Greene had but two brigades and a small body of mili- 
 tia — thirteen hundred in all. But he placed these in such good position, 
 and roused them to such a firm spirit of resistance, that the British were 
 obliged to return to Elizabethtown. 
 
 Then there came another period of rest. Washington went to Hart- 
 
206 NATHANIEL GREENE. 
 
 ford to consult witH the Frencli generals and left Greene to take charge 
 of the army and to keep him informed of all that went on. With a way 
 of learning about everything that went on at the British headquarters at 
 New York, Greene soon discovered that something was going to happen. 
 He wrote to Washington about it, but said that the success of the plan 
 seemed to depend on keeping it a secret. 
 
 Two days later the secret was out. It was Benedict Arnold's plot to 
 let the British into West Point. Andre was captured ; Greene presided 
 over the court that tried him and signed the death-warrant, although he 
 would gladly have made the sentence lighter if he had thought it right. 
 
 RAW MILITIA, BUT GREAT FIGHTERS. 
 
 He was then put in charge of West Point. Soon after this the seat 
 of war was changed to the South, and there Greene was sent before long 
 to take the place of Gates, the victor of Saratoga, after his sorry defeat at 
 Camden in the midsummer of 1780. 
 
 Greene found his command in a miserable condition. The term of 
 most of the men had expired, so there was really no army and no sup- 
 plies, and Congress was out of money with which to provide any of these. 
 But gradually a small force, mostly raw militia, was collected, and with 
 these Greene did some of the most brilliant fighting of the war. He 
 gained no great victories — his forces were too weak for that — but by 
 watchfulness and activity he turned even his defeats to good account ; he 
 took advantage of every mistake ; he hung over all the enemy's move- 
 ments, ready to strike an unexpected blow ; he chased them here and 
 there, and at last compelled them to leave the whole country — Georgia 
 and the Carolinas — and to shut themselves up in Charleston. 
 
 The battle of Eutaw Springs, from which the retreat into Charleston 
 was made, was one of the severest battles of the whole war. It was hard 
 to say which side gained the victory ; the British claimed it, but they were 
 glad to leave the field as soon as possible after it was over. They 
 retreated to Charleston, and at last their power in the South was broken. 
 Thus, " by sheer caution, activity, and perseverance, and without winning 
 a single victory, Greene had almost cleared the South of the enemy." 
 
 The surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown, which occurred about two 
 months after this, brought an end to the war in the North, but there was 
 still trouble in the South. For more than a year longer Greene was 
 obliged to be constantly on the watch for sallies from the British garri- 
 
NATHANIEL GREENEi. 207 
 
 Sons ; His own army was in the greatest distress mucli of the time ; they 
 had no food and were forbidden by the Legislature of South Carolina to 
 supply themselves by foraging ; they had hardly rags enough to cover 
 them ; sickness broke out and finally mutiny. A second act of treason 
 was found out just in time to save the loyal soldiers from a combined 
 attack by the British and the rebelling Americans. 
 
 Finally, the Southern Army saw the last of the English Army depart 
 from Charleston. It entered the city amidst great rejoicing, while the 
 praises of General Greene resounded through the country and even across 
 the Atlantic. As a soldier and a man, he is ranked above every other 
 officer in the Revolution, excepting the gjeat Commander-in-Chief But 
 there was still another long delay before the needy army was disbanded 
 and Greene was free to return to his home. Even then it was not to settle 
 down to the comfort that he had justly earned. 
 
 HONORS CONFERRED ON GREENE. 
 
 When the Legislatures of Georgia and the Carolinas first met, after 
 the battle of Butaw Springs had made it safe for them to do so, they 
 showed how much they valued General Greene's services by voting him 
 large sums of money and lands. These he had pledged to secure food and 
 clothing for his army, but the greater part was swept away by the false- 
 dealing of one in whom he had trusted. With the little that was left he 
 settled with his family in Georgia in the spring of 1785. The next year, 
 while walking out in the rice-field, he had a sun-stroke which caused his 
 death within a week. 
 
 Nathaniel Greene was bom in Warwick, Rhode Island, May 27, 1742. 
 He died on his estates near Savannah, Georgia, June 19, 1786. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who was Washington's favorite General? What did Greene do 
 when ordered back from Boston by the Tory governor ? Can you describe 
 Greene's operations in New Jersey ? Can you describe Greene at the bat- 
 tle of Brandywine? What did Chaplain Caldwell do to furnish the 
 American soldiers with wadding ? What did Greene do with the letter 
 written by Sullivan to Congress ? Why did Greene have enemies ? Can 
 you describe Greene's successes in the South ? What rank did Greene 
 take as a General ? When and how did his death occur ? 
 
CAEPENTEES' HALL 
 
 AKD THE COE'TIISTENTAL CONGRESS. 
 
 HERE is a famous old building in Philadelphia, said 
 Uncle Frank, that I would like to tell you about. To 
 me it is a most interesting place. 
 
 What building is it ? Elsie asked. You have 
 already told us about Old Independence Hall. 
 
 This building, said Uncle Frank, is Carpenters' 
 Hall. It is one of the most interesting of the many 
 historic structures in Philadelphia, for here the first 
 Continental Congress was assembled in 1774, that 
 body which Lord Chatham is said to have characterized as " The most 
 honorable assembly of men that had ever been known," 
 
 COMPANY FORMED TO HELP THE POOR. 
 
 The First House Carpenters' Company in the city was formed in 
 1724, for obtaining instructions in architecture and assisting widows and 
 children of poor members. In 1752 another Carpenters' Company joined 
 it, and in 1768 a lot, 66 by 255 feet, was purchased on Chestnut street, 
 below Fourth, for an annual ground rent of 176 Spanish dollars. The 
 hall was built at the extreme rear of the lot, and subsequently a part of the 
 Chestnut street front was sold, leaving only a small alley for entrance. 
 
 Although the Hall was begun in 1770, the lack of funds prevented 
 its completion until 1791. However, enough of the building was erected 
 in 1 77 1 for the Carpenters' Company to be enabled to meet there. 
 
 A conference of committees from all parts of the Province of Penn- 
 sylvania met in Carpenters' Hall July 15, 1774, and passed resolutions 
 asserting the rights of the colonies, condemning the conduct of Parlia- 
 ment and recommended that delegates to Congress be appointed. The 
 same year the First Provincial Assembly and the First Continental Con- 
 gress met there. 
 
 On September 5, 1774, the delegates from eleven Provinces, who had 
 been summoned to take defensive measures, arrived in the city, and assem- 
 20d 
 
CARPENTERS' HALI.. 
 
 209 
 
 bled, for want of a better place, at the Old City Tavern, tben on Second 
 street, above Walnut. While tbe delegates were there word was brought 
 that the use of Carpenters' Hall had been offered by the company, and the 
 Congress approved the offer and adjourned to the then new hall. Here 
 the Continental Congress remained until October 26, when, the State 
 House being put at their disposal, they finished their memorable first 
 session in the larger building, where liberty was yet to be cradled. 
 
 In the First Continental Congress were some of the greatest men 
 in the country, 
 men whose 
 lames are fore- 
 iiost in our his- 
 ' ory as a nation, 
 •nd men worthy 
 of all the praise 
 j:;.,ord Chatham 
 l);2Stowed upon 
 lliem. Among 
 ihem were 
 Washington, 
 Patrick Henry, 
 [Richard Henry 
 Lee and Peyton 
 Randolph, of 
 
 V'irginia; Mifilin, Ross and Dickinson, of Pennsylvania; the two 
 Adamses, from Massachusetts, and Charles Thomson, who was Secretary. 
 The Congress assembled in the first story of the hall, and there the 
 Rev. Dr. Duche offered his celebrated prayer and read the collect of the 
 day, the XXX Vth Psalm, which latter seemed so appropriate. 
 
 The Philadelphia Library occupied the second floor of the building 
 from 1775 until 1791, when it removed to its new building on Fifth street, 
 and during the Revolution the library was used as a hospital for soldiers. 
 During the British occupancy of the city, in 1777, the soldiers used the 
 building, as thej^ did all public edifices in Philadelphia. 
 
 In 1827 a Hicksite Society of Friends used the Hall as a meeting 
 
 house, and then for many years the first floor was an auction room. The 
 
 Carpenters' Company resumed possession of their old building in i^S7i 
 
 restoring it, so far as possible, to its original appearance, and since then 
 
 14 
 
 carpenters' hall, PHILADELPHIA. 
 
210 CARPENTERS' HAEI.. 
 
 it lias remained in tlie society's possession, and used only as a historic 
 museum, second only to Independence Hall. 
 
 During the occupancy of the building the Pennsylvania Bank was 
 robbed, in 1798, of $162,821.61, and the case has remained as one of the 
 celebrated affairs in the city's romances of crime. Pat Lyon, a well-known 
 blacksmith and famous maker of fire engines in those days, was employed 
 to make two doors for a vault of the bank. When the money was dis- 
 covered to be missing Lyon was promptly arrested. The only evidence 
 against him was that he was widely known as a skilled mechanic. He 
 was imprisoned in the Walnut Street Jail, where yellow fever victims 
 were claimed daily. 
 
 PROVED TO BE INNOCENT. 
 
 Although protesting his innocence and giving a straightforward ac- 
 count of himself for every hour of the day when the robbery occurred, he 
 was held in $150,000 bail, in default of which he languished in a fever 
 ridden jail. The real robbers, a bank porter and a carpenter, subse- 
 quently confessed, and Lyon was released. He brought suit and got 
 judgment for $12,000. A new trial was granted in 1807, and he was 
 awarded $9,000 nearly nine years after his arrest. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Where did the first Continental Congress meet in Philadelphia? 
 What year was that? Can you describe the location of Carpenters' Hall? 
 Who were some of the great men of the country that attended this Con- 
 gress? Who made the opening prayer? What Psalm did he read? 
 When was the building occupied by the British ? Can you describe the 
 robbery of the Pennsylvania Bank when it occupied this building ? 
 
LIFE-SAYING MEN 
 
 THE HEEOES OF THE SEA. 
 
 LI/ the men in our country who wear medals, said Uncle 
 Frank, do not belong to the army and navy, and all 
 the bravery of American manhood was not confined to 
 our war with Spain and the Filipinos. 
 
 As the firemen are heroes, so are the life-savers. 
 Theirs is the more fearful work, for there is none to 
 look on and encourage. The cries of friends in the 
 live streets below are not there for encouragement to 
 noble deeds, the wail of humanity giving strength to 
 
 bravery is not theirs. They fight alone, in the cold, usually in the dark. 
 
 They leave every foothold of defense and dare an enemy who has no 
 
 mercy, an enemy whose weapons are winds and waves. 
 
 THEY FACE DANGER TO SAVE THE SHIPWRECKED. 
 
 Theirs is not the bravery which lasts the hour out, and then goes 
 home to luxury and applause. Year by year they face those giant seas, 
 waiting that mocking cry of Death, which comes howling at them through 
 the storm ; until that wild laugh of power comes shrieking to them 
 through the teeth of an icy gale. 
 
 They know the task before them ; they are not men who mock dan- 
 ger, who laugh and think heroism a cheap and easy thing. They launch 
 their cockle shell out on those giant seas and know, every man of them, 
 that chances are against them. As they work, their purse strings do not 
 grow longer ; they, like the firemen, receive a mere pittance compared with 
 what they ought to receive, but they face danger and do great and glorious 
 things because of the noble blood in them. 
 
 The United States has divided the sea coast and lake shores into 
 
 twelve life-saving stations. Out of the dozen superintendents two have 
 
 been drowned, one very nearly so and another sacrificed his life to the cold 
 
 and exposure. Four deaths out of twelve persons is a heavy mortality. 
 
 So great did the splendid heroism of these men become by 1874 that 
 
 211 
 
212 tIFE-SAVING MEN. 
 
 the United States authorized an award of medals for bravery. The first 
 were awarded to two English crews for rescuing the crew of an American 
 
 ^j ship, and 
 Spain sent 
 medals to a 
 little band of 
 men at Hog 
 Island, Va., 
 for saving the 
 crew of the 
 ship Albano 
 at fearful risk. 
 Many of 
 the men along 
 the New Jer- 
 sey coast have 
 medals, and 
 right well 
 have they de- 
 served them. 
 Christopher 
 Ludlam, of 
 Hereford In- 
 let, was decor- 
 ated for run- 
 ning a boat 
 out through a 
 great gale and 
 snowstorm to 
 the rescue 
 
 GALLANT RESCUE BY A LIFE-GUARD. O f a H m e 
 
 schooner; she was stranded and afire, and there was no sane reason for 
 one of that little body of rescuers ever coming back alive; but there was 
 an insane risk and they took it and did come back, not only with them- 
 selves, but the men they went to get. _ 
 
 John C. Patterson and crew, of Shark River, have medals for work. 
 As Patterson started to launch the surf boat a messenger ran to hi: i wrch 
 the news of a dying brother beseeching that he come to his deathbed. 
 
 
LIFE-SAVING MEN. 213 
 
 Patterson stood a moment with his liand on the gunwale of the cockle 
 shell ; the crew stood respectfully silent ; then the keeper threw back his 
 head and said as simply as if superintending a pleasure jaunt, "shove 
 her in." 
 
 Chadwick and his crew, on Mantoloking, have received medals for 
 their great endurance, fighting for the life of every man on a pitching, 
 sinking schooner, and Valentine and crew, of Monmouth Beach, modestly 
 show their medals. Theirs was a glorious triumph. They saved the 
 crews of two vessels, bringing every sailor to shore. The boats had to 
 fight their way through pitching wreckage. Bach man used his individ- 
 ual judgment and strength ; it was a soul-stirring time and the work that 
 each man did that day was sufficient to put down to the credit of an able- 
 bodied man for a lifetime of endeavor. 
 
 The Thanksgiving game of the students at Northwestern University 
 is one to be remembered in the annals of the history of the brave. 
 
 TERRIBLE STRUGGLE WITH THE STORM. 
 
 There is a station at Evanston, 111., and every surfman outside the 
 keeper is a student of the university. As some one expressed it : "It is 
 the kind of college team that has the waves of Lake Michigan for a play- 
 ground, human lives for a goal and the winds and waves for umpire." 
 
 The story of their great game is that early one morning word came 
 to them of the going down of a steamer at Fort Sheridan, twelve miles 
 away. They made their way to the beach with the lifeboat ; the vessel 
 was being pounded to pieces looo yards from shore. The gale was some- 
 thing fearful, the mercury was below 30 degrees, snow and sleet were 
 blinding and choking eyes and throat. 
 
 The team had to take their boat down a ravine, a gorge that was in 
 itself a fearful obstacle to their path. Soldiers came over from the fort 
 and dug out footholds for them in the ice down the steep sides of this 
 ravine. 
 
 Three times did the boat fill and four times did keeper and crew turn 
 it over and start it ojBf again. Out they went on the fourth trial, and they 
 pulled with the strength of demons, or athletes. It was forced toward the 
 wreck inch by inch ; it was a hand to hand struggle with the elements. 
 At last they reached the vessel, their clothing frozen stiff, their spirits 
 boiling. 
 
 Six men were rescued on the first trip and back, and then back they 
 
£14 
 
 LiPE-SAVING MEN. 
 
 went until every life was saved. Crew and rescuers liad to be rescued 
 back to life when all was over, but tbere were hundreds of glad Hearts and 
 
 loving hands to 
 do it. They 
 had won their 
 great game, and 
 besides the roar- 
 ing huzzas of 
 the great uni- 
 versity came 
 the seven gold 
 medals from the 
 United States 
 Government. 
 
 Life saving 
 men seem not 
 to know what 
 ' fear is. They 
 never earn the 
 term coward, no 
 matter what 
 duty is to be 
 performed, no 
 matter howwell 
 they know 
 death waits for 
 them at the 
 other end of the 
 line. They fol- 
 low behind their 
 red rocket's 
 glare with the 
 energy of the 
 rocket ; they go 
 
 SAVING THB CREW OF AN OCEAN WKECK. 
 
 out into space witi a sUent prayer that they may be returned to shore 
 ZZg. Eah, superintendent of Sand Beach, Michigan was one 
 of the conspicuous figures in the service. He alone >^f'--^J^^°^^ 
 sjdendid crew, and it seemed that he, too, had better have been taken than 
 
LIFB-SAVING MEN. 215 
 
 left, for his mind was wrecked for montlis. But, happily, mental 
 powers were restored later. He lias been given the Michigan post as 
 another reward for bravery, beside the gold medal by his appreciative 
 country. 
 
 He was then keeper of the station at Point Aux Barques, on Lake 
 Huron. The vessel was out of line reach, and the keeper knew the hope- 
 lessness of a surf boat in that sea, but he ordered it out and took an oar. 
 In the open lake the storm was not to be dealt with, no boat could live in 
 it. Over and over went the surfboat, losing a man each time. Those 
 who could cling on soon gave way through numbness. Kiah was by that 
 time insensible. He never remembered how he kept his grip. When 
 people found him he was supporting himself against the root of a tree on 
 shore — a raving lunatic. 
 
 It is the custom of the life savers to make the attempt to reach a ves- 
 sel regardless of how certainly they think they must be lost. 
 
 HE WENT TO SURE DEATH. 
 
 One poor keeper gave up on account of the frightful seas on the Cape 
 Cod coast and was forced to know that whole year that a volunteer crew 
 had succeeded in saving the wrecked vessel's crew. It wrecked his life, 
 for the villagers mocked him, and then one awful night he went out in the 
 howl of an inshore gale, behind the rocket's flare to the line where 
 another rocket glared. 
 
 No human being could have lived in that sea, and he knew it. The 
 villagers never laugh now at his memory. 
 
 That is all the fearful side of it — but the bright side is with the res- 
 cued and the statistics of lives and property saved. 
 
 So the life savers are not only " heroes of peace," but great property 
 savers. No one who has ever lived on the coast can help that little shud- 
 der in the shriek of the gale as one fancies one hears the rattle of the life- 
 boat as she makes her way down to the surf, or restrain the quick prayer, 
 not only for the crew of a distressed vessel, but for the little band of six 
 men that seem to be always going out at some point on our great coasts — 
 out into the blackness of a gale-swept ocean on a mission of which it has 
 been said, " Greater love hath no man than this." 
 
 When Uncle Frank had finished his story, James said he had been 
 much interested. Not more than we have, said Mabel, speaking for her- 
 self and Elsie. 
 
216 I.IFE-SAVING MEN. 
 
 I Have a poem here, said Uncle Frank, written by Minnie Mackay 
 that I would like to read to you. 
 
 THE LIFE BRIGADE. 
 
 Hark ! 'mid the strife of waters 
 
 A shrill despairing cry, 
 As of some drowning sailor 
 
 In his last agony I 
 Another I and now are mingled 
 
 Heart-rendering shrieks for aid. 
 Lo I a sinking ship. What ho I arouse, 
 
 Arouse the Life Brigade I 
 
 They come with hurrying foot-steps ; 
 
 No need for a second call ; 
 They are broad awake and ready, 
 
 And willing one and all. 
 Not a hand among them trembles, 
 
 Each tread is firm and free. 
 Not one man's spirit falters 
 
 In the face of the awful sea. 
 
 Yet well may the bravest sailor 
 
 Shrink back appalled to-night 
 From that army of massive breakers 
 
 With their foam-crests gleaming white, 
 Those beautiful, terrible breakers, 
 
 Waiting to snatch their prey, 
 And bury yon hapless vessel 
 
 'Neath a monument of spray I 
 
 But rugged, and strong, and cheery 
 
 Dauntless and undismayed, 
 Are the weather-beaten heroes 
 
 Of the gallant Life Brigade. 
 " To the rescue I " shouts the leader, 
 
 Nor pauses for reply — 
 A plunge I — and the great waves bear him 
 
 Away to do or die I 
 
UFE-SAVING MEN. 217 
 
 The wliole niglit long, unwearied, 
 
 They battle with wind and sea, 
 All ignorant and heedless 
 
 Of what their end may be. 
 They search the tattered rigging, 
 
 They climb the quivering mast, 
 And life after life is rescued 
 
 Till the frail ship sinks at last. 
 
 The thunderous clouds have vanished, 
 
 The rose-fingered morn awakes, 
 While over the breast of ocean 
 
 The shimmering sunlight breaks ; 
 And the Life Brigade have finished 
 
 The work God gave them to do. 
 Their names are called. "Any missing? " 
 
 Mournful the answer — " Two I " 
 
 Two of the best and bravest 
 
 Have been dragged by the cruel waves 
 Down to the depths unmeasured, 
 
 'Mid thousands of sailor graves I 
 Two lives are given for many I 
 
 And the tears of sorrow shed, 
 Should be tears of joy and glory 
 
 For the grandeur of the dead I 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What can you say of the bravery of the life-guards ? How many 
 life-saving stations have we in the United States ? Who are some of the 
 men that have won medals? Can you describe the rescue made by 
 students of the Northwestern University? What can you say of the 
 hardships and sufferings of the life-guards ? Can you tell the story of 
 the superintendent of Sand Beach, Michigan? Can you repeat any part 
 of the poem entitled the Life Brigade ? 
 
GEK JOHN G FREMONT 
 
 THE GEEAT PATH-FIKDER. 
 
 HAT a big country ours is, said James. I was reading 
 what a large part of it lies West of tlie Mississippi 
 River. 
 
 I must tell you something about the discovery of 
 this immense territory, said Uncle Frank, and in 
 order to do that I must tell you the thrilling story of 
 General Fremont. 
 
 He was a remarkably bright boy, and at the age 
 of fifteen entered Charleston College, South Carolina. 
 For two or three years after leaving college he was a teacher of mathe- 
 matics on some of our naval schoolships. 
 
 HE MARRIES JESSIE BENTON. 
 
 The interest in opening up the country and building railroads had 
 grown very fast, and Fremont decided to leave the sea and become a Gov- 
 ernment surveyor and civil engineer. He helped to lay out the railroad 
 routes through the mountain passes of North Carolina and Tennessee, 
 and after that he was one of a party that explored some of the then 
 unknown sections of Missouri. Before this latter work was finished he 
 was promoted to the rank of second lieutenant of the map-making or 
 topographical engineers; and three years later, when he was twenty-eight 
 years old, he had an unlooked-for appointment from the Government to 
 explore and survey the Des Moines River. 
 
 Mr. Fremont was deeply in love j ust then with young Miss Jessie Ben- 
 ton, a daughter of a United States Senator from Missouri. Her parents 
 were much opposed to having her marry a Government officer; so it was 
 with a heavy heart that the young man set out for the frontier wilderness 
 of Iowa, and the land of the Sacs and Fox Indians along the Des Moines 
 banks; but he did his work well, and when he returned in the fall the 
 Bentons agreed that since he was in every way worthy as a man thev 
 would forgive his being an officer and consent to the marriage. 
 216 
 
GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 219 
 
 This happy event was of importance to more people than themselves 
 alone; for by her energy and powers of mind Mrs. Fremont was not only 
 a direct help to her hnsband in carrying out the most important explora- 
 tions ever made under the United States Government, but she cheered 
 and encouraged him to keep up heart and push on through many years 
 of work and hardship, often clouded by injustice and disappointment. 
 
 FROM MISSOURI RIVER TO THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
 
 The expedition to the Des Moines settled the purpose of Mr. Fre- 
 mont's life. He then learned enough of the great Western country to know 
 that the Government and the citizens who were gathered along the Atlan- 
 tic seaboard really knew almost nothing of the truth about the unin- 
 habited portions of their land ; that the extravagant tales which had been 
 told by adventurous traders and travellers were mostly false ; that proba- 
 bly a great portion of the country could be used for farm lands and manu- 
 facturing towns ; and that railway routes could probably be laid across 
 the whole continent. 
 
 Filled with a desire to open up these treasures of knowledge, he ap- 
 plied to the War Department for permission to survey the whole of the 
 territory lying between the Missouri River and the Pacific Ocean. The 
 request was granted and means provided for an expedition to be fitted 
 out, especially to find a good route from the Eastern States to California, 
 and to examine and survey the South Pass of the Rocky Mountains — the 
 great crossing-place for emigrants on the way to Oregon. It was his own 
 wish to have this order, for he knew — though he did not then say so — 
 that if the Government had this particular section explored and surveyed 
 it would fix a point in the emigrants' travel and also show an encouraging 
 interest in their enterprise. 
 
 On the 2d of May, with his instructions and part of his supplies, 
 Lieutenant Fremont left Washington for St. Louis, which was then a 
 good-sized town on the border-land of the Western wilderness. There he 
 collected his party and finished fitting out the expedition. About twenty 
 men joined him — mostly Creoles and Canadians who had been employed 
 as traders for fur companies and who were used to the Indians and all the 
 hardships of the rough life they should have to lead. 
 
 Besides these men, he had a well-known hunter, named Maxwell, for 
 their guide, and the celebrated mountaineer, Christopher Carson — or Kit 
 Carson, as he was usually called — who was both bold and cautious, and 
 
220 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 
 
 knew more about the West than almost any hunter in the country. This 
 was the little band that, armed and mounted, set out with their gallant 
 leader on his first great exploring expedition. 
 
 They found him a man full of determination and self-reliance, having 
 skill and patience and many resources, and who grew stronger in his 
 purpose when perils and discouragements lay in his path. His men were 
 well chosen, spirited, and adventurous, while most of them were also 
 hardy and experienced. 
 
 Most of the party rode on horseback, but some drove the mule carts 
 that carried the baggage, instruments, and what food it was thought nec- 
 essary to take along. Tied to the carts were a few loose horses and some 
 oxen to be killed on the way for fresh meat. 
 
 PUSHED ON INTO THE WILD COUNTRY. 
 
 After they had crossed Missouri and reached Chouteau's Landing — 
 where Kansas City now stands — they felt that their journey was really 
 begun. Starting here at the mouth of the Kansas, they followed its 
 winding course across the northeastern corner of Kansas State, and 
 pushed on into Nebraska until they reached the barren banks of the 
 Platte. Then they followed that stream, taking the direction of the 
 Southern fork, when they reached the division, and following where it 
 led almost to Long's Peak. 
 
 Then they changed their line of march, and keeping near the banks of 
 the Northern fork, pushed on to Fort Laramie. This was reached in safety 
 in the middle of July, the travellers having had only one great buffalo fight 
 and one encounter with the Arapahoe Indians in the course of their 
 journey. The meeting with the Indians turned out a friendly one, though 
 it would not have been so but for Maxwell, who had traded with the tribe, 
 and knowing the warriors, shouted to the leader in the Arapahoe lan- 
 guage just in time to prevent a fray. The chief was riding on furiously, 
 but at the sound of words in his own speech from the white men, he 
 wheeled his horse round, recognized Maxwell, and gave his hand to Fre- 
 mont in a frienfily salute. 
 
 At Fort Laramie reports were heard of trouble among the Indians 
 and white people between the Platte and the Rocky Mountains, and the 
 explorers were told that their lives would be in danger if they went any 
 further west until matters were quiet again. But Fremont and his men 
 thought that probably the stories were exaggerated, aud resolved not to 
 
GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 
 
 221 
 
 be daunted by 
 them. So, after a 
 few days of rest, 
 they got ready to 
 start out. Just as 
 they were about to 
 depart, four friend- 
 ly chiefs appeared 
 with a letter, warn- 
 ing Fremont of 
 danger from ban ds 
 of young warriors 
 if he went further. 
 He received 
 their wamin g very 
 respectfully, as 
 well as thanking 
 llihem for their 
 tiidndness, and also 
 made a pretty little 
 t speech in answer 
 l.o theirs: " When 
 you told us that 
 your young men 
 would kill us," he 
 said, " you did not 
 know that our 
 hearts were strong 
 and you did not 
 see the rifles which 
 ray young men 
 carry in their 
 hands. We are 
 few, and you are 
 many and may kill Indians surprised and defeated. 
 
 us, but there will be much crying in your villages, for many of your young 
 men will stay behind, and forget to return with your warriors from the 
 mountains. Do you think that our great chief" — meaning the Presi- 
 
!22 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 
 
 lent — " will let his soldiers die and forget to cover tlieir gre-^'es ? Be- 
 bre the snows melt again, liis warriors will sweep away your villages 
 .s the fire does the prairie in the autumn. Sec ! I have pulled down my 
 rhite houses, and my people are ready ; when the sun is ten paces higher 
 i^e shall be on the march. If you have anything to tell us you will say 
 t soon.'' 
 
 The chiefs were not expecting such words in reply, but they liked 
 he bold spirit of the white man from the Bast, and what they soon had 
 o say was that they would send one of their young warriors to guide the 
 )arty. It was a little favor of only one man, but it was everything to the 
 xplorers, for — as both they and the Indians knew — his presence in the 
 )arty was sure protection for them against all the savages they might 
 Qeet. Fremont heartily accepted the courtesy, and at evening the com- 
 )any set out for the distant region of the Rockies. 
 
 LIKELY TO DIE FROM STARVATION. 
 
 Now their real difficulties began. Soon they entered a most deso- 
 ate country, where, the interpreter assured them, they were likely to die 
 •f starvation if they went very far. They had only food enough left to 
 ast for ten days, and the gallant leader called his men together and told 
 hem that he intended to push<on, but that all who wished to had his 
 lermission to turn back. " Not a man," he says, " flinched from his nn- 
 ertaking." One or two, who were not very strong, he sent back to the 
 Learest fort, but the rest kept close to him till their aim was reached. 
 When our food is gone, we'll eat the mules," said one of them. 
 
 The most difficult part of the whole expedition was now ahead of 
 hem, and it was necessary to go as lightly weighted as possible ; so they 
 lid all the luggage they could spare in the bushes or buried it in the 
 allows of sand that were banked up near the Wind River. Then they 
 arefully removed all traces of what they had done so the Indians would 
 lot discover their stores and steal them. A few days' march brought 
 hem to the water-shed of the Pacific and Mississippi slopes, and then to 
 he object of their search — the great, beautiful South Pass. 
 
 Instead of the rocky heights they had expected, they saw a gently 
 ising sandy plain stretched beyond the gorge, and the much-dreaded 
 rossing of the Rockies was an easy matter. Entering the Pass and 
 ^oing up into the mountains, they found the sources of many of the great 
 ivers that flow to the Pacific. Further on, they discovered a beautiful 
 
GENERAIv JOHN C. FREMONT. 223 
 
 ravine, beyond wliicli lay tlie fair water called Mountain Lake — " set like 
 a gem in the mountains," and feeding one of the branches of the Colorado 
 River. 
 
 The expedition had now fulfilled its orders from the Government, but 
 the leader did not give the word to return until he had gone up the lofty 
 height of Wind River Peak — now known as Fremont's Peak — that stands 
 in majestic grandeur near the Pass, The summit was reached after a 
 most difficult climb, and Fremont himself was the first white man to stand 
 on its narrow crest and to look out upon the country from the highest 
 point in the Rocky Mountains. 
 
 On one side lay numberless lakes and streams, giving their waters 
 into the Colorado, which sweeps them on to. the Gulf of California ; in the 
 other direction he saw the lovely valley of the Wind River, the romantic 
 home from which the Yellowstone carries its waters to the Missouri, away 
 to the east ; in the north he saw the snow-capped summits of the Trois 
 Tetons, where the Missouri and the Columbia rise, and the lower peaks 
 that guard the secret of the Nebraska's birth. 
 
 GRANDEUR OF AMERICAN SCENERY. 
 
 Between, beyond, and all around were lesser peaks, gorges, rugged 
 cliffs, and great walls of mountain rock broken into a thousand bold, fan- 
 tastic figures, and standing up in weird and striking grandeur. A thou- 
 sand feet below him, steep, shining ice-precipices towered above fields of 
 snow gleaming spotless white. " We stood," said Fremont, " where 
 human foot had never stood before and felt the thrill of first explorers." 
 
 When the travellers were again at the base of the peak and all their 
 explorations and discoveries had been carefully noted, and their specimens 
 of rock, plants, and flowers gathered together, they turned their faces 
 homeward. They found their hidden stores, made up their train once 
 more, found the camp of the men who had remained behind, and, glad with 
 their success, took up the eastward march. 
 
 A full report of the expedition was soon sent to Congress, and in a 
 short time Fremont's discoveries became a subject of great interest in 
 both Europe and America. From Fremont's Peak he had brought some 
 of the flowers that he found growing beside his path, a bee that had flown 
 up to them soon after they reached the summit, the rocks that formed the 
 peak, and the rugged shelving mountain above which it reared its icy, 
 snow-capped head. Over the whole course of his extended trip, he 
 
224 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 
 
 obtained tlie heiglit botli of plains and mountains, latitude and longitude • 
 lie reported the face of the country, whether it was fertile or barren, 
 whether travelling over it was easy or difficult, and the practicability of 
 certain routes for public highways. 
 
 The grand features of nature were clearly described in fitting lan- 
 guage, and in some cases he illustrated them by drawings. Military 
 positions were pointed out, and in all other ways a thorough examination 
 and survey was made of a vast portion of the national possessions which 
 up to this time had been unused, unknown, and unappreciated. 
 
 GENERAL FREMONT STARTS ON ANOTHER JOURNEY. 
 
 Europe and America praised the manner in which the expedition had 
 been managed, and the Government, well pleased with the wonderful 
 results he had obtained, appointed Lieutenant Fremont to set out on 
 another journey at once and to complete the survey between the State of 
 Missouri and the tide-water regions of the Columbia River. 
 
 This was just what he wanted to do. A trip to the top of Wind 
 River Peak and back had but revealed to him what vast secrets of the 
 Western country there were yet to be discovered, and he lost no time in 
 getting ready to return. With some of his old companions and several 
 new ones, he soon made up a band of about forty men, who left Kansas 
 with him just one year after the first expedition had started. The route 
 this time lay in a northwesterly direction — before it had been almost due 
 west. 
 
 In four months they travelled over seventeen hundred miles, reaching 
 the Great Salt Lake early in the autumn, and before winter began they 
 had found the Columbia and followed it to its mouth. The same careful 
 observations and surveys were taken along the route of this journey as 
 had made the other so valuable, especially in the region of the Great Salt 
 Lake, about which no true accounts had ever been given before. 
 
 Although Fremont had fulfilled the orders of the Government when 
 he reached the mouth of the Columbia, this was really but a small part of 
 what he intended to do upon this expedition. ' The vast region beyond the 
 Rocky Mountains — the whole western slope of our continent — was but lit- 
 tle known then in any way, and not at all with accurate, scientific know- 
 ledge. This, Fremont longed to go through and explore. At first he 
 intended to begin doing so by returning home through the Great Basin — 
 now Utah — between the Rocky Mountains and the Sierra Nevada ; but he 
 
GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 125 
 
 took anotiier direction finally — a route tlirongli almost an unknown region 
 between the Columbia and Colorado — that led them further west, showed 
 them California, and resulted at a later time in securing to the United 
 States that rich country, which was tben owned by Mexico. 
 
 The cold winter came on almost before they had started, and they 
 liad not gone far before they found themselves in a desert of snow where 
 tiere was nothing for either men or horses to eat, while between them and 
 he fertile valleys of California was the rugged, snow-covered range of the 
 >i ;rra Nevada Mountains. They tried to get some of the Indians to show 
 them the way over this great barrier; but the savages declared that it 
 could not be crossed — no human being had ever crossed it, and no guide 
 vo.ild consent to go with them for any amount of money. But they said 
 -..lere was an opening further south, and gave Fremont some directions as 
 to where it might be found. So the party took the risk of guiding them- 
 selves and kept on in their cold and desolate march. When they reached 
 the pass it was only to see toward the west a still greater range before 
 them. It was plain that they would get lost if they attempted to push on 
 ilone, and they had gone too far now to turn back. At last they found a 
 3'Oung Indian who for a very large present would undertake to guide 
 !iem. 
 
 On the ist of February they started out, and after a terrible journey 
 f forty days they reached the Sacramento River, and a comfortable rest- 
 ig-place at Sutter's Fort, the place where gold was found four years 
 iter. Half of their horses had perished, and the men were so weak and 
 hin that it was two months before they were able to go on again. 
 
 THE EXPEDITION RETURNS HOME. 
 
 Fremont did not attempt to go any further into California ; but when 
 spring opened and the men were well enough to travel, gave the word for 
 home. They crossed the Sierra Nevada, and making their route as nearly 
 due east as possible, they passed by the Great Salt Lake, crossed the 
 Rocky Mountains through the South Pass, halted at several places they 
 had become acquainted with before, and reached the Kansas countr}'- in 
 July. There the ground was known to them, and the rest of the journey 
 was quite smoothly and quickly made. 
 
 By midsummer Fremont had reported himself to the Government 
 and was once more with his family. He learned then that a letter of 
 recall had been sent to him after he started; but that his wife held it 
 15 
 
226 GENERAL JOHN C FREMONT. 
 
 back, seeing that it was upon some false charges made by his enemies at 
 Washington. So he had really made this journey as a fugitive, but Mrs. 
 Fremont's act was approved when her husband returned with a name that 
 went over Europe and America for the great and valuable discoveries he 
 had made in the northwest territory and the terrible hardships he had 
 endured to make the expedition successful. 
 
 FREMONT'S LOG FORT ON HAWK'S PEAK. 
 
 In spite of the efforts that were made against him by some political 
 opponents, Congress accepted his labors, gave him another appointment, 
 and when he again went out — which was as soon as his reports were fin- 
 ished — it was with the rank and title of captain in the United States 
 Engineers. His object this time was to find out more about the Salt 
 Lake and other portions of the Great Basin, and to explore the coasts of 
 California and Oregon. After several months of discovery and careful 
 surveys of the streams and watersheds between, he again crossed the 
 Sierra Nevada in midwinter and went down into the rich and beautiful 
 country lining the Pacific shore. 
 
 This territory was then held by the Mexicans, and while he left his 
 men at San Joaquin to rest, Fremont himself went on to Monterey, the 
 capital, to ask of Governor Castro permission to explore his country. 
 The request was granted at first, but as news of the war between the 
 United States and Mexico arrived just then, the permission was recalled 
 with orders that the travellers leave the country at once. But this the 
 dauntless captain did not intend to do, so he built a rude fort of logs in a 
 strong position on the Hawk's Peak Mountain, about thirty miles from 
 Monterey, and with his sixty-two men waited for an attack from the 
 Mexican forces, which under General Castro encamped themselves in the 
 plain below. 
 
 They watched him for four days and then, deciding not to nght, al- 
 lowed him to go on his way through the Sacramento Valley to Oregon. 
 Before he had gone very far, he was met by a party that had been sent 
 out to find him, with orders from the United States to act for his nation 
 in case Mexico should form a treaty with England to pass California into 
 the hands of Great Britain. 
 
 General Castro soon threatened to attack the Americans settled along 
 the Sacramento, but before he had time to do so. Captain Fremont 
 marched rapidly to their rescue collecting them in his band as be went 
 
GENERAI^ JOHN C. FREMONT. 227 
 
 along, so that by the montii of July the whole of northern California had 
 passed out of the hands of the Mexicans and into those of the United 
 States, and Fremont, the conqueror, was made governor of the land and 
 raised to the rank of lieutenant-colonel in tne army. 
 
 Meanwhile the Government had resolved to make a sweeping con- 
 quest of the rest of the territory, if possible, and have our possessions 
 extend from ocean to ocean. Commodore Sloat, who commanded the 
 United States squadron of the Pacific, seized Monterey, where Fremont 
 soon joined him with a hundred and sixty mounted riflemen ; and at about 
 the same time there arrived Commodore Stockton of the navy with orders 
 from Congress to conquer California. The Mexicans still held the south- 
 ern portion of the territory, but the towns of San Francisco, Monterey, 
 and Los Angeles were all taken without much resistance, and at the end 
 of six months Upper California was surrendered to the United States. 
 
 When this was about completed General Kearney arrived with a 
 force of dragoons, and disputed Commodore Stockton's right to be mili- 
 tary governor of the territory. A quarrel arose, in which Fremont took 
 the side of the commodore, who had made him major of the California 
 battalion, and civil governor of the country ; but when the matter was 
 carried to Washington and settled by the Government in favor of 
 Kearney, he recognized his position and obeyed his orders. But the 
 general would not forgive his former allegiance to Commodore Stockton, 
 and arrested him and made him return to Washington with his own men 
 by the overland route, treating him very disrespectfully all the way. 
 
 WOULD NOT ACCEPT OFFERED PARDON. 
 
 " My charges," said Fremont, '' are of misconduct, military, civil, 
 political, and moral, and such that, if true, would make me unfit to be 
 anywhere outside of prison." He demanded a trial by court-martial, 
 which might have cleared him if he had taken pains to get evidence upon 
 his innocence ; but as he did not, he was pronounced guilty of mutiny and 
 disobedience and ordered to leave the Government service. 
 
 But the court requested President Polk not to confirm their verdict ; 
 he did not, and granted Fremont a pardon, with permission to keep his 
 position in the army. This he would not accept ; he refused to receive as 
 a favor that to which he had a right, or to go about as an officer pardoned 
 of offenses he had never committed. So he resigned his commission, and 
 at the age of thirty-five became a private citizen. 
 
228 
 
 GENERAL JOHN C FREMONT. 
 
 Althougli lie was still a young man, it seemed to him, for a time, tliat 
 lie had nothing to look forward to in life ; but he soon made np his mind 
 to undertake another exploring expedition. This had to be on his own 
 responsibility and at his own expense ; but he soon succeeded in getting a 
 party together and fitting it out. 
 
 He was doubly anxious now to find some good routes from the States 
 
 THE LAVA BEDS IN THE NORTH-WEST. 
 
 to the new possessions on the Pacific, for in February of this year — 1848 — 
 gold had been found on the Sacramento River, and many people were 
 already starting out to dig for the precious ore. So far there was no 
 direct route to California. A long and dangerous journey across Kansas, 
 Colorado, Utah, and Nevada, and through the Rockies and Sierras could 
 be made by land, or a voyage by way of the Isthmus of Panama could be 
 made by water. These were the best possible ways of getting there. 
 
 Fremont's desire was to find a route which could be made into a safe 
 
GENERAI, JOHN C. FREMONT. 229 
 
 and direct public line of travel, and it was with this object in view that be 
 soon started out with bis little band. Tbis time be went to tbe Soutb, 
 crossing tbe northern part of Mexico, and following tbe Rio Grande del 
 Norte toward California. Tbe beginning of the journey as far as Santa 
 Fe was made successfully ; but from there it became a tour of distress — 
 the saddest Fremont ever undertook. The route lay through a country 
 inhabited by Indians then at war with the United States, which was dan- 
 ger enough ; but added to this, winter was just coming on, and while they 
 were in the most perilous part of their journey, among the snow-covered 
 Sierra, tbe guide lost his way. Finally they were forced to turn back, 
 but before they could get to Santa Fe, one-third of their men had died of 
 cold and hunger, and all of their mules and horses had perished. 
 
 Even this terrible experience did not alter Fremont's resolve to find 
 if possible a southern pass to the Pacific coast. He hired thirty new men 
 to go with him, and once more set out, more determined to succeed than 
 ever. After a long search he was rewarded, for in the spring of 1849 — 
 when the gold fever was getting to its height — with the cruel Sierra be- 
 hind him, he again came in sight of tbe Sacramento River. 
 
 GOLD HUNTERS IN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 Two years before he bad bought a very large tract of land, on which 
 there were rich gold mines, and he had resolved, when he left the States, 
 to remain upon these after he had found a southern pass, and not go back 
 to the East to live. So now he settled down, worked his mines, and began 
 to prepare a home for his family. 
 
 The enthusiasm about gold was drawing thousands of men to the 
 Territory from all parts of America, and from Europe, so that California 
 soon had enough people to become a State. Fremont took a great deal 
 of interest in this growth in the country be bad discovered to the United 
 States and won for tbe Government, and be worked very earnestly to 
 have it made a free State. Meanwhile he was not forgotten at Washing- 
 ton. President Taylor soon called upon him to run a boundary line be- 
 tween the United States and Mexico, and when that was done, California 
 having been taken into the Union, he was chosen by the Legislature to 
 represent the new State in the Senate at the national capital. 
 
 It was during this term that tbe King of Prussia and the Royal 
 Geographical Society of London awarded him the honor of their medals 
 for his services as an explorer. 
 
230 
 
 GENERAI. JOHN G. FREMONT. 
 
 He went to Burope after his term was over, and was treated witH 
 great respect by many of tlie most eminent people of tlie time. Mr. Fre- 
 mont spent a few years at abont tbis time in looking after bis own affairs, 
 but be bad not yet given up exploring tbe great territory of tbe West. 
 Wben — on bis return from Europe — be found tbe Government preparing 
 to survey tbree railroad routes across tbe continent, be again fitted out 
 an expedition of bis own to find a good soutbern route to tbe Pacific. 
 Tbis time be was successful. 
 
 He went witbout mucb difficulty to tbe place were tbe guide bad lost 
 
 bis way in tbe 
 expedition of 
 1848, and, fol- 
 lowing tbe 
 course, wbicb 
 bad been de- 
 scribed to bim 
 by tbe moun- 
 tai n men 
 wbom be ask- 
 ed, be finally 
 succeeded in 
 picking out a 
 route of safe 
 passes all tbe 
 way to tbe 
 
 HUMBOLDT PALISADKS, PACIFIC RAILWAY. GoldeU State. 
 
 But tbis was not secured witbout terrible bardsbips. Tbe country was 
 barren, bleak, and cold ; tbe provisions of tbe party gave out, and for 
 fifty days tbe men lived on tbe flesb of tbeir borses. Sometimes tbey bad 
 notbing at all to eat for forty-eigbt bours at a time. 
 
 Progress, too, was slow. For awbile tbey only made a bundred miles 
 in ten days ; and so deserted was tbe region tbat for tbree times tbat dis- 
 tance, tbey did not meet a single buman being, not even a bardy Indian, 
 for tbe winter was unusually severe and even tbe savages did not venture 
 far into tbe dangerous passes, wbere tbe air was full of snow and fogs. 
 
 In tbis terrible distress Fremont feared tbat bis men would be tempted 
 to eat eacb otber ; and so be called tbem to bim one day, and in tbe solemn 
 stillness of tbe great ice mountains be made tbem take ofi" tbeir bats. 
 
GENERAIv JOHN C. FREMONT. 231 
 
 raise their hands to heaven and swear that they would instantly shoot the 
 first man that should attempt to appease his hunger with the flesh of a 
 comrade. 
 
 Little by little they kept pushing on; and at last all obstacles were 
 overcome, the fair California valleys were reached, and the jaded, frost- 
 
 CHEYENNE INDIANS INSPECTING FIRST TRAIN ON THE PACIFIC RAILROAD. 
 
 bitten band entered San Francisco. One man only was missing. He, 
 poor fellow, was courageous to the last, and died like a soldier, in his sad- 
 dle; and like a soldier his comrades buried him on the spot where he fell. 
 
 The rest, though worn almost to skeletons, survived ; and Fremont 
 forgot his sufferings in the joy of having gained the object of his journey. 
 He had found for a certainty that a railroad could be built over the road 
 he had taken, and that was a success of so great value to the nation that 
 even the winter of distress to himself and his band and the sad loss of one 
 brave man was a small price for it. 
 
 The Central Pacific Railroad was begun in a few years ; and the re- 
 gion being richly stored with vast quantities of iron, coal, and timber, 
 the workmen were supplied with much of their materials as they went 
 
232 GENERAL JOHN C. FREMONT. 
 
 along. In a dozen years more the great task was completed, and cars 
 were running from Bast to West, carrying tourists and emigrants by tlie 
 thousands and spreading prosperity and civilization to the benefit of, not 
 this nation alone, but of all people in the civilized world. The Northern 
 and the Southern Pacific roads have followed the first one, opening up 
 other sections, and calling forth and using the resources of the land all 
 the way across the continent, placing our country first among all coun- 
 tries in several of the most important articles in the world's commerce. 
 
 Among all the men who have devoted themselves to the success of 
 these roads, there is no one to whom the nation owes more than to 
 Fremont — who first surveyed the regions — northern, central and southern, 
 and who well merits the honor of the title, the " Path-finder of the Rocky 
 Mountains." 
 
 The survey of the Central Pacific was the last great exploration of 
 his life. In 1856 he was almost elected President by the then new Re- 
 publican party, in the contest with James Buchanan ; he was also named 
 for the next President, but withdrew in favor of Lincoln. At the begin- 
 ning of the Civil War he was made major-general in the army, and dur- 
 ing the first year had command of the Department of the Mississippi. 
 He lost this because he ordered that slaves should be freed by all in his 
 district who were in arms against the Union. President Lincoln thought 
 he was taking the step too soon, but gave him another command a few 
 months later, from which he resigned in June, 1862, and left the conflict 
 entirely. 
 
 Mr. Fremont was born at Savannah, Georgia, January 21, 1813. 
 Died July 13, 1890. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 At what age was Fremont when he went to college ? What did he 
 do after he left college ? Whom did he marry ? Can you give an account 
 of his first expedition ? What was his object in making it ? How many 
 men did he have ? What can you say of his guides ? Who warned him 
 of his danger ? What was his reply ? Can you describe Fremont's Peak ? 
 Can you give an account of his second expedition ? Can you describe the 
 sufferings of Fremont and his party ? What part of the country did he 
 explore ? What about Fremont and the Mexicans ? How long after his 
 explorations before railroads were built across the continent ? When was 
 Fremont a npminee for the Presidency ? Where and when was he bom ? 
 When did he die ? 
 
HAYES AND HALL 
 
 CELEBEATED AEOTIO TEAYELLEES. 
 
 /id?j g g ;^^^^> ERH APS no greater heroes ever lived, said Uncle Frank 
 as the young folks sat down beside him, than the men 
 who have made journeys into the far North. They 
 have encountered dangers and met with hardships that 
 are enough to make one shudder even by reading 
 about them. I wish to tell you this morning of two 
 famous explorers, and I will take them one at a time. 
 I have already told you of Dr. Kane and his won- 
 derful Arctic voyages. The next party that left the 
 United States for the Arctic regions, the north-east coast of America, was 
 commanded by Isaac I. Hayes, who was surgeon on the Advance in Dr. 
 Kane's last expedition. He, too, had returned with the rescue party, 
 firmly believing that an open Polar sea had been found, and he began at 
 once to plan another expedition to make sure of this and to push other 
 discoveries into the mysteries of the North. 
 
 BEGAN YOUNG AS AN EXPLORER. 
 
 Dr. Hayes was also a Pennsylvania man and had graduated from the 
 Medical School of the University of Pennsylvania the year in which he 
 started out with Dr. Kane. He was only twenty-one years old then, but 
 he showed that he had the enterprise and the ability that is necessary to 
 make a good explorer. More than one of the sledge-journeys made from 
 the Advance were in his charge, and he also did some of the most import- 
 ant chart-making work of the expedition. So, when he wanted to makt 
 up another party, his plan was encouraged by the Government, and sonic 
 of the most important scientific societies in the world including the Smith- 
 sonian Institution. Five years after the second Grinnell Expedition 
 returned, and three years after Dr. Kane's death, he set out from Boston 
 Harbor much better prepared for his undertaking than any former Amer- 
 ican expedition had been. 
 
 233 
 
234 HAYES AND HALL. 
 
 Tlie hardships wWcli make up so large a part of the story of all 
 Northern explorers fell in full share upon Dr. Hayes and his little band 
 in the schooner United States. Such trials as were described in the 
 account of Dr. Kane's journey have been the experiences of all who have 
 ventured within the icy region of the Arctic circle, either for the help of 
 men or the cause of science. Ice, snow, bitter cold, and often fatigue, 
 hunger, want of sleep, and lost bearings make the frame in which the pic- 
 ture of all that they have done is set. But to balance these trials, the 
 explorers have found a great deal in those northern seas that is more 
 grand and wonderful than the sights of any other part of the world. 
 
 GLORIOUS PICTURE IN THE POLAR WORLD. 
 
 Off the coast of Greenland Dr. Hayes wrote : " It is midnight ; the sea 
 is smooth as glass, not a ripple breaks its surface, not a breath of air is 
 stirring. The sun hangs close upon the northern horizon ; the fog has 
 broken up into light clouds ; the icebergs lie thick about us ; the dark 
 headlands stand boldly against the sky ; and the clouds and bergs and 
 mountains are bathed in an atmosphere of crimson and gold and purple 
 most singularly beautiful. The air is warm almost as a summer night at 
 home, and yet there are the icebergs and the bleak mountains. The sky 
 is bright, soft, and inspiring as the skies of Italy ; the bergs have lost 
 their chilly appearance, and, glittering in the blaze of the brilliant hea- 
 vens, seem in the distance like masses of burnished metal or solid flame." 
 
 In the midst of this glorious picture, the good schooner sailed on, to 
 Proven and to Upernavik, from whence she headed north to Tessuissak — 
 '' the place where there is a bay.'' Six weeks from the time she left Bos- 
 ton, the party, now larger by several natives, hunters, and Danish sailors 
 taken aboard at Greenland, entered Melville Bay in a thick snow-storm. 
 Pretty soon they had to build their snow-houses, set up their stations, and 
 make the regular preparations for winter. 
 
 In the spring they worked their way further northward up Smith's 
 Sound. Then taking a companion and starting out on a sledge-journey 
 Dr. Hayes went over about the same route he had followed before on one 
 of his journeys from the Advance. All the way he made careful observa- 
 tions, especially to correct errors that he found in the charts made on the 
 last trip. Pushing up Kennedy's Channel he finally got beyond the lim- 
 its of the former discoveries, and reached the lower cape at the entrance to 
 Lady Franklin Bay. This was a point forty miles further than that 
 
. ' ^; mmm\ — r 
 
 Sit 
 
 m 'V 
 I 
 
 jf .*' 
 
 
 
 '* /m' , 
 
 
 im 
 
 '^^p 
 « 
 
 MARVieLI^OUS SCENE IN THE ARCTIC REGIONS. 
 
 235 
 
236 HAYES AND HALL. 
 
 attained by Dr. Kane on tlie opposite shore, when he had explored the 
 east and Dr. Hayes the west shore of this channel — which they both 
 believed led to the Open Polar Sea. At this place — which he named Cape 
 Lieber — he unfurled several United States flags which had been given him 
 to open at the most northerly point in his journey. 
 
 He did not find a clear sea here ; but the ice was thin and decayed, 
 and he felt sure that open water lay beyond, though it was then impossi- 
 ble for him to push any further North- to prove it. After making a great 
 many careful scientific observations, he started back to the schooner, 
 which passed the early part of the summer in Hartstene Bay, while the 
 party spent most of the time in making discoveries round about them, 
 watching the action of the tide and studying the habits of the Esquimaux. 
 
 START ON THEIR HOMEWARD JOURNEY. 
 
 In the middle of July the schooner broke out of the ice, and the 
 homeward journey was begun. For a long distance Dr. Hayes surveyed 
 the coast as he went, gathering specimens of plants and natural history 
 and all the scientific information possible. At last the vessel was out of 
 the Arctic regions, and a direct route was taken for Boston. He reached 
 port after an absence of fifteen months, and found the country resounding 
 with the news of war, the battle of Ball's Bluff having been fought a few 
 days before the party landed. 
 
 Dr. Hayes at once offered his vessel and himself to the Union cause, 
 and it was not until after the conflict was over that he brought out the nar- 
 rative of his journey. This book, which is called the " Open Polar Sea," 
 was thought so well of that the royal geographical societies of both London 
 and Paris awarded gold medals to its author, while many other honors 
 were paid him for his valuable services to the cause of science and geo- 
 graphical knowledge. 
 
 Two 3^ears after this book was published Dr. Hayes again went to 
 Greenland, and explored the south coast of that country. He then studied 
 the regions of the north for the sake of their beauty and historic interest 
 more than for scientific knowledge. He observed the great Greenland gla- 
 ciers and icebergs, visited the places were the Northmen had their colonies 
 in olden times, and finally took his vessel — a steam yacht called the Panther 
 — up into the much-dreaded ice-pack of Melville Bay. Accounts of this 
 journey are given in the book entitled " The Land of Desolation." 
 
 After his return he went into politics, and was for a time a member 
 
HAYES AND HALL. 
 
 237 
 
 of the New York Legislature, althougli lie never lost his interest in the 
 Arctic regions, nor ceased to write about them. 
 
 Dr. Hayes relates an adventure he had with Walruses. One day he 
 and his party came upon a large herd, and wounded one old bull with a 
 harpoon, when all turned at once upon their enemies. 
 
 That they meditated an attack, says Dr. Hayes, there could be no 
 longer doubt. To escape the onslaught was impossible. We had rai'^ ' 
 
 THE WALRUS OF THE ARCTIC SEAS. 
 
 a hornet's nest about our ears in a most astonishingly short space of 
 time, and we must do the best we could. Even the wounded animal to 
 which our boat was fastened turned upon us, and we became the focus of 
 at least a thousand gaping, bellowing mouths. 
 
 It seemed to be the purpose of the Walruses to get their tushes on 
 the gunwale of the boat, and it was evident that in the event of our hav- 
 ing such monster tushes on us, the boat would be torn in pieces, and we 
 would be left floating in the sea helpless. All this gave motive, there- 
 
238 HAYES AND HALt. 
 
 fore, to be active. One of my men plied tis lance from the bows, and 
 gave many a serious wound. The men pushed back the nearest with 
 their oars, while others loaded and fired as rapidly as we could. 
 
 Several times we were in great danger, but the timely thrust of an oar, 
 or the lance, or a bullet, saved us. Once I thought we were surely gone. 
 I had fired, and was hastening to load; a wicked-looking brute was rush- 
 ing at us, and it seemed probable that he would be upon us. I stopped 
 loading, and was preparing to cram my rifle down his throat, when a 
 sailor, who had got ready his weapon, sent a fatal shot into his head. 
 
 MOUTH WIDE OPEN AND BELLOWING. 
 
 Again an immense animal, the largest I had ever seen, and with 
 tusks apparently three feet long, was observed to be making his way 
 through the herd with mouth wide open, bellowing dreadfully. I was 
 now, as before, busy loading; the other rifles had been discharged, and 
 the men were well engaged with their oars. It was a critical moment, 
 but, happily, I was in time. The monster, his head high above the boat, 
 was within two feet of the gunwale, when I raised my piece and fired into 
 his mouth. The discharge killed him instantly, and he went down like a 
 stone. 
 
 This ended the fray. The herd suddenly lost courage, and all dove 
 down with a tremendous splash; and when they came up, although still 
 shrieking, they were some distance from the boat, with their heads pointed 
 seaward. A dozen had been killed and many more wounded. The bull 
 to which we were made fast pulled away with all his might after the 
 retreating herd; but his strength failed, the line was hauled in, and he 
 was soon approached near enough to use the lance. 
 
 I never before regarded the Walrus as a very formidable animal ; but 
 this contest convinces me that I have done their courage great injustice. 
 They are full of fight; and had we not been very active and self-possessed 
 our boat would have been torn to pieces, and we either drowned or killed. 
 
 Dr. Isaac Israel Hayes was born in Chester County, Pennsylvania, 
 March 5, 1832. He died in New York City, December 17, 1881. 
 
 A few weeks after the United States bore Dr. Hayes and his party 
 away from Boston Harbor on their scientific voyage to the Polar Sea, 
 another expedition left New London, Connecticut, to renew the search for 
 Sir John Franklin. This was a simple affair of two men, Charles Francis 
 Hall and a native Esquimaux for an interpreter. 
 
HAYES AND HALt. 239 
 
 Mr. Hall was a noble-liearted, energetic man of Cincinnati, an en- 
 graver by trade, poor, and about forty years old. Since the first Grinnell 
 Bxpedition went out lie bad been deeply interested in every attempt tbat 
 bad been made to find tbe lost explorers, and soon after tbe failure of Dr. 
 Kane's beroic effort, be came forward witb a new plan by wbicb be felt 
 sure tbey could be discovered ; for Mr. Hall — like many otbers — still 
 firmly believed tbat some of tbe party at least were living, altbougb 
 sixteen years bad tben passed since tbey left England. Tbe plan wbicb 
 be proposed for finding tbem was, for tbe rescue party to go prepared to 
 live just as tbe natives lived, and to travel about witb tbem over tbe 
 country wbere it was supposed tbat Sir Jobn was lost. 
 
 Wbile be was tbinking tbis over be beard tbat tbe Britisb relief sbip 
 Resolute bad been laid up as a bull in tbe Mediterranean, and be decided 
 to make an effort to secure it and begin preparations. He interested 
 Governor Cbase, of Obio, and several prominent citizens enougb to get 
 tbem to sign a petition to tbe Britisb Government for tbe use of tbe sbip 
 to take bim to join Sir Francis McClintock, an Englisbman wbo bad 
 gone on a searcb expedition a little more tban a year before. 
 
 HEARTY RESPONSE TO APPEALS. 
 
 He tben sent out a circular calling upon all lovers of man and science 
 to assist in fitting out tbis expedition. Leaving Cincinnati soon after 
 tbat, be came to tbe Eastern cities, visited Mr. Grinnell, tbe relatives of 
 Dr. Hayes, and several otbers wbo bad taken an interest in former expe- 
 ditions, wbo met bis efforts witb a bearty response. 
 
 In tbe midst of tbeir active preparations word came from England 
 tbat McClintock bad returned witb tbe good news tbat be bad found 
 traces of tbe lost party in King William Land. In a tin cylinder, under- 
 neatb a pile of stones, be bad found a paper wbicb stated tbat Sir Jobn 
 Franklin and twenty-six of bis men were dead. But one bundred and 
 tbirty-seven bad gone out, and bopes of finding tbe otbers now belped to 
 speed on Mr. Hall's plan very swiftly. 
 
 Mr. Grinnell again lent bis aid, and a generous firm of New London 
 offered free passage for tbe expedition as far as Nortbumberland Inlet, 
 on tbeir wbaler, tbe George Henry. On tbis Hall set out on tbe 29tb of 
 May, i860. His outfit was small but complete, and bis only companion 
 was an Esquimaux man, wbo bad come down to New England from 
 Greenland on tbe George Henry's last trip. It was a tiny expedition, 
 
240 
 
 HAYES AND HAhh. 
 
 but not a weak one, for Hall was a host in himself, as lie afterward 
 proved. 
 
 Difficulties began at the outset. The Esquimaux died soon after the 
 vessel left port ; head-winds made her tardy in reaching her winter quart- 
 ers, and during the winter Mr. Hall lost his expedition boat, which was 
 all that he had depended on for reaching King William Land from North- 
 umberland Inlet. Nothing could now be done without a new outfit, and 
 
 ESQUIMAUX IN HIS WATER-PROOF CANOE. 
 
 as it was several months before the whaler could get out of the ice, he had 
 time to study the Esquimaux language and to make several sledge jour- 
 neys into the interior so as to get some idea of what experiences were 
 before him. 
 
 In these he gained a great deal of useful knowledge about the country, 
 made friends with some of the people, and carried on some very valuable 
 scientific explorations. His companions on these sledge journeys were 
 a very intelligent Esquimaux man and his wife— "Joe and Hannah" he 
 
HAYES AND HALI,. 241 
 
 named them — and anotlier man whom he had befriended. The woman 
 used to track the snow in front of the dog team while her husband drove, 
 and at night she would start the light in the stone lamp to dry the wet 
 clothing, while the men built the snow hut for their shelter. 
 
 They were out forty-three days on the first trip, and Mr. Hall 
 learned from that how many days would have to be spent in the future — 
 making but little progress, suffering greatly from cold and hunger, and 
 having nothing to eat but frozen whale-hide. But in spite of these suf- 
 ferings he was encouraged to go on with his plans. 
 
 Gradually the winter passed away ; spring came, and then the sum- 
 mer, in which the captain of the George Henry had expected to sail for 
 home. But the ice-pack still held her fast, and there was nothing to do 
 but remain until the next summer, when she might be freed. Before 
 that time came provisions began to fail, and the second winter would have 
 seen suffering for food, if Hall had not been able to go to the natives and 
 ask for provisions whenever the larder was empty. 
 
 In this way he kept the party alive. Then, when the men on ship- 
 board fell sick of the scurvy — a disease that attacks almost every explor- 
 ing party in the north country — he had them taken to live in the huts, 
 where they soon got well on the native " igloo " food. This proved that 
 his idea that the white men could live with the Esquimaux was correct. 
 During this second fall and winter he made many short excursions into 
 the country, and in the spring he set out on a long tour of two months. 
 
 HOME AGAIN FOR FRESH SUPPLIES. 
 
 In August — after a stay of two years — the George Henry was re- 
 leased from the ice and started for home, carrying Hall back in quest of 
 fresh supplies and another boat. He now felt sure of success. 
 
 Hannah and Joe returned with him on a visit to the United States, 
 bringing their baby and seal dog with them. They were very much in- 
 terested in all the wonders of civilization that they saw ; and the people 
 of civilization were equally interested in them. 
 
 Mr. Hall found it very hard work to fit out his second expedition. 
 The long and costly conflict of the Civil War had begun while he was 
 away ; and the Government had more expenses than it could comfortably 
 meet already, and many of the people who had given money for the search 
 before, now felt too poor to do so. He was not discouraged, and soon 
 managed by lecturing to earn funds enough to prepare for another journey. 
 
 16 
 
242 HAYES AND HALL- 
 
 The Monticello, a whaler bound for the regions about Hudson's 
 Straits, oflfered bim free passage for tbe little party and tbe outfit, and in 
 tbat vessel tbey started in July, 1864. Tbey made a direct route to Fro- 
 bisber's Bay, and tbere took on board four Esquimaux, witb tbeir wives 
 and sledges, wbo, witb Joe and Hannab, were to be Mr. Hall's companions 
 after be left tbe vessel. 
 
 Tbrougb some mistake in tbe reckoning, instead of landing tbe trav- 
 ellers at tbe moutb of tbe Wager River — from wbicb Mr. Hall intended to 
 journey by boat to Repulse Bay and be ready to start in tbe spring for 
 King William Land — tbe captain let tbem off forty miles soutb of tbe 
 moutb of tbe river, wbicb made it impossible to reach Repulse Bay that 
 fall. It took them nine months to get to their proper landing-place, and 
 then tbey had to wait till spring before setting out for Repulse Bay. 
 Thus a whole year was lost. 
 
 WOULD NOT GIVE WAY TO DISCOURAGEMENTS. 
 
 But Mr. Hall did not lose heart. He lived witb tbe natives as one 
 of tbem, and in tbe spring of 1865 again started northward — not on a 
 smooth, rapid journey, but on a slow, vexatious one. His Esquimaux 
 companions felt none of his anxiety to hasten onward, and sometimes they 
 would not travel more than two or three miles a day. This was an 
 unlooked-for trouble, but, while it greatly hindered his work, it did not 
 thwart him entirely. 
 
 One day, as the little party was journeying along, they met a band 
 of natives wbo bad seen Franklin. They described him and showed arti- 
 cles that had belonged to some of his men. They said tbat the ship was 
 crushed in the ice and tbat some of tbeir boats were found witb dead men 
 in tbem. This information made Mr. Hall more anxious than ever to 
 push on ; but tbe Esquimaux still dallied, stopping on one pretext or 
 another after every little march. Even the faithful Joe and Hannah were 
 swayed by the superstitions of tbeir countrymen, and with them, at last, 
 refused to go any further. The end of the second season found tbem back 
 on Repulse Bay — "' disappointed but not discouraged,'' wrote Hall in his 
 diary. 
 
 The next spring he made a final and resolute start for King William 
 Land, taking witb him this time only Joe and Hannah, a white man 
 named Rudolph wbo had gone with him from the whaler, and one of the 
 Esquimaux who was more docile than the rest. As he neared Ig-loo-lik, 
 
HAYES AND HALL. 243 
 
 in Melville Peninsula, the natives told Hm tliat white men had often been 
 seen there ; and a little further on he discovered a place where a tent had 
 been made, but he found no records. 
 
 The winter was spent on the Peninsula, and the next summer he 
 reached the long-desired King William Land. Here he found some of the 
 remains of the missing party, and learned that the Erebus and Terror, Sir 
 John's vessels, had made the north-west passage and perished there. 
 
 So at last he had succeeded in learning the fate of the unfortunate 
 party. He found some articles that they had left, learned that there were 
 books and records further on, and wanted to go in search of them and the 
 bodies of the explorers, but his companions refused to go with him, and 
 he had to give it up. Making his way southward, just below Repulse 
 Bay, he took passage in a whaler, bound for new England ; in the early 
 part of 1869, with Joe, Hannah, and a little adopted child, he landed 
 at Bedford, Massachusetts, with precious relics of the lost Englishmen. 
 
 FARTHER NORTH THAN ANY EXPLORER HAD BEEN. 
 
 He went straight to New York, and within a month was at work for 
 another expedition — this time to find the North Pole and also to get the 
 Franklin records about which the natives had told him. Lectures and 
 writings awoke a great deal of interest in his project. Congress voted 
 fifty thousand dollars for it; and in June of 1871 the Polaris left New 
 York with a party of able, scientific men and a good crew, placed by the 
 Government under the command of Mr. Hall. By the end of August 
 they had reached a point further north than any white man had ever yet 
 been, and in a few months they set out on a sledge-journey toward the 
 Pole, finding the country warmer than they had expected, and abounding 
 in game. 
 
 It was too near winter to press all the way on, but they returned to 
 the Polaris well satisfied with their survey, and much surer than before 
 that they should finally succeed; but the night they returned to the ves- 
 sel. Captain Hall was taken with an attack of apoplexy, and in two weeks 
 he died. 
 
 Charles F. Hall was born in Rochester, New Hampshire, some time 
 in the year 182 1. He died on the steam-tug Polaris, in Newman's Bay, 
 on the west coast of Greenland, November 8, 1871. 
 
KOGEK WILLIAMS 
 
 AI^D THE PILGEIMS. 
 
 • 
 
 OOD-MORNING, Uncle Frank, said the young folks, 
 as they came bounding out on the lawn and seated 
 themselves under the big elm tree. 
 
 You may well call this a good morning, was 
 Uncle Frank's reply. I have been listening to the 
 birds since 6 o'clock, and it is very sweet music. 
 What shall we talk about to-day ? 
 
 The old Puritans, said James. Tell us about the 
 Pilgrims, and how the people lived in the early days 
 of New England. The girls were eager to hear the same story and Uncle 
 Frank cleared his throat and began. 
 
 The most important colony that settled in New England was a band 
 of Pilgrims, who, driven from their native land on account of their reli- 
 gion, first sojourned in Holland, and theiJ. embarked for America. They 
 landed at the place which John Siiiith had already named Plymouth on 
 the 2ist of December, 1620. 
 
 FAMOUS LEADERS OF THE PILGRIMS. 
 
 The leaders were the courageous, energetic soldier. Miles Standish, 
 who was the military leader of the Pilgrims in their wars against the In- 
 dians ; John Carver, who was chosen governor after the landing, and 
 managed the affairs of the colony with care and wisdom for the four months 
 that he lived; and William Bradford, who was elected governor after 
 Carver's death, and held that of&ce for over thirty years. 
 
 But probably the greatest man among the New England settlers was 
 Roger Williams, who did not come to America until a little more than ten 
 years after the Pilgrims landed. He was a scholarly young Welsh cler- 
 gyman, who had been educated for the Church of England at Oxford 
 University, but had become a Puritan of the stanchest kind. He was 
 already quite famous, and at first the people welcomed him and his wife 
 244 
 
ROGER WIIvUAMS. 245 
 
 very cordially. But they soon felt that he was not severe enough in his 
 ideas, so he had to leave Boston, and went to Salem. 
 
 There, too, he made enemies because he did not think just as the 
 authorities did about some church affairs, and he was forced to leave that 
 place also. One of his great " errors " was that he said the authorities 
 had no right to punish any people for not going to church or for wanting 
 in their way the liberty that the Puritans themselves had come so far to 
 secure. The Salem people were very angry at him when they sent him 
 away, but after a couple of years he was called back and was installed as 
 pastor of their church. 
 
 MEN SHOULD HAVE LIBERTY. 
 
 Meanwhile he had been at Plymouth, and had become well acquainted 
 with the Indians, learning their language, and also some of their griev- 
 ances. He boldly said that the King of England had no right to give 
 away their land to white people, without first paying them for it. This 
 and the freedom with which he still spoke his mind about the rulers and 
 magistrates having no right to interfere with the religious beliefs of the 
 people were more than the rigid Pilgrims could stand, and before long they 
 said so, and gave him j ust six weeks in which to leave the colony. This 
 time was afterward lengthened to several months. Williams improved it 
 by spreading his doctrine as fast as he could and announcing that he him- 
 self would start a colony in which people might believe as seemed to them 
 right and not after the law of any council. 
 
 The rulers heard of this and decided to send him at once to England, 
 but they did not succeed in doing so ; for he was warned by his friends 
 just in time to make his escape. It was in the middle of a bleak, cold 
 New England winter ; but there was no time to lose, and so, leaving his 
 wife and children behind in safety, he fled from Salem to find refuge in 
 the wilderness. 
 
 Snow lay thick upon the ground, marked here and there with the 
 footprints of wild beasts. He could hear their voices, too, at night as he 
 crouched in the shelter of some hollow tree or lay in the smoky hut of 
 some of the friendly Indians, from whom he also begged his food. " They 
 were," he said, ^' the ravens that fed me in the wilderness." 
 
 In his other exile at Plymouth, Williams had known Massasoit, the 
 great Indian king ; he had then made him presents and shown him much 
 kindness, for he felt that the white men owed a good deal to the red 
 
246 ROGER WILLIAMS SEEKING REFUGE AMONG THE INDIANS. 
 
ROGER WILUAMS. 
 
 247 
 
 Americans wliose country they had taken possession of. Remembering 
 this former friendship he now went to Massasoit in his distress. 
 
 The great chief had not forgotten his kindness and welcomed him 
 right royally to his camp. In the spring he gave him a tract of land by 
 the side of the Seekonk River, near the place now known as Manton's 
 Cove, and here the fugitive preacher resolved to make his home. 
 
 He had left Salem all alone, but five others had now joined him, and 
 together they began to build a cabin and plant corn. But soon word 
 came that they were still on Plymouth soil. Governor Winthrop, who 
 ivas secretly a friend to Williams, sent a letter advising him to move to 
 the other side 
 of the water, 
 where he 
 might have 
 the whole of 
 the country 
 before him, 
 and be as free 
 as they were. 
 
 So, in a 
 short time, he 
 took leave of 
 "His fields of 
 sprouting 
 corn and his 
 unfinished landing of roger Williams at providence. 
 
 cabin and with his five companions set out in a canoe in search of a place 
 where he could establish a free government, and afford a home to those 
 who were persecuted because of their opinions. 
 
 At last a favorable place was found on the west side of the peninsula 
 near the mouth of the Moshassuck River — the place where the city of 
 Providence now stands. Roger Williams gave it this name " because," 
 he said, " of a sense of God's merciful providence unto me in my distress.'' 
 
 When he drew up the plan of government for the new settlement he 
 resolved to have it a liberal one. Providence he desired should be "a 
 shelter for persons distressed for conscience." All who should come to 
 live there would be asked to promise obedience to laws for the public 
 good, but " only in civil things.'' 
 
248 
 
 ROGER WIIvLIAMS. 
 
 The settlement was hardly begun before Williams liad a cbance to 
 beap coals of fire on tbe beads of tbe magistrates wbo bad driven bim from 
 
 Salem. Tbe 
 Pequot In- 
 d i a n s bad 
 made an at- 
 tack on some 
 of tbe settlers 
 and were try- 
 ing to induce 
 tbe Narra- 
 gansetts — a 
 very large 
 and powerful 
 tribe — to join 
 tbem in a 
 general mas- 
 sacre of all 
 tbe wbite peo- 
 ple of tbe 
 Plymouth 
 Colony. As 
 soon as tbe 
 rulers beard 
 of tbis tbey 
 were in great 
 frigbt. 
 
 Peace must 
 be made witb 
 tbe red men 
 in some way, 
 or tbe Pil- 
 
 PEQUOT INDIANS IN COSTUME. grims WOuld 
 
 be entirely destroyed. Tbere was but one wbite man in tbe country 
 wbo knew tbese Indians well enough to have any influence with tbem. 
 That was Roger Williams. So they sent to him — away out in the wil- 
 derness to which he bad fled from their persecutions — and begged bim to go 
 to tbe camp of the Narragansetts and induce tbem not to join tbe Pequots. 
 
ROGER WII.UAMS. 249 
 
 It was a bold request to make of a man on whom they had turned as 
 an enemy, especially as he would have to risk his life if he undertook the 
 journey ; but Roger Williams was too noble to refuse even this sacrifice 
 for the sake of so many others, and he lost no time in setting out. He 
 found the Pequots already there, when he reached the dwellings of the 
 i Narragansetts, and their stirring appeals to their kindred to rise and kill 
 the white men who were fast robbing them of their hunting-grounds and 
 the burial-places of their fathers had almost persuaded the cooler Narra- 
 gansetts to join them. 
 
 Williams went at once to the dwellings of the sachems and spent 
 three days and three nights in company with the treacherous Pequots, 
 whom he expected every night would put their " bloody knives to his 
 throat." But the friendship he had formed with the Narragansetts was 
 a strong one. They respected his counsels, and finally, with the Mohi- 
 cans, another strong tribe, agreed to make a treaty with the English 
 against the Pequots. 
 
 LONG AND BLOODY INDIAN WAR. 
 
 That tribe soon opened war, and in the wretched conflict, which lasted 
 four years, the magistrates depended almost entirely upon Williams for 
 advice and for keeping the peace with the friendly Indians, and it was 
 chiefly due to him that the war was at last brought to an end successful 
 to the colonists. 
 
 Yet, when Governor Winthrop moved that he be recalled from ban- 
 ishment and some mark of favor be shown him for his services, the 
 authorities refused to do it, and a few years later they even refused to 
 allow the colony of Providence to join those of Massachusetts Bay, Plym- 
 outh, Connecticut and New Haven in a league for mutual protection 
 against the Dutch and French. The only allies of this little band of 
 refugees were the Indians. Even with them it needed very skillful man- 
 aging to keep from an outbreak on account of the wrongs they suffered 
 from the other colonies. 
 
 At length the people of Providence decided to look to the mother 
 country for protection. They sent Williams to England to procure for 
 them a charter which would define their boundaries and forbid the other 
 colonies from interfering with them. Massachusetts had already begun 
 to dictate to them as though they were under her control, and none of 
 them felt quite willing to let them alone. Williams sailed in the summer 
 
250 
 
 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 of 1643 from New York, and in a little more than a year returned witk 
 the charter and the good wishes of the mother country. 
 
 The next few years were very busy ones for Williams. Many of the 
 colonists were dissatisfied with the government which the new charter 
 instituted. The Indians were troublesome, owing to insults which they 
 
 received from the united colo- 
 nies of Massachusetts and Con- 
 necticut. These colonies still 
 treated the people of Rhode Isl- 
 and contemptuously whenever 
 they had a chance. They went 
 so far as to arrest three citizens 
 of Newport who went to Lynn to 
 visit an old friend, and had them 
 fined and imprisoned. 
 
 At length it became neces- 
 sary for Rhode Island to have a 
 new charter in order to settle 
 the difficulties that were con- 
 stantly coming up between the 
 towns on the mainland and those 
 on the island„ Williams was 
 begged to go again to England, 
 and finally consented, though he 
 had to sell his trading-house to 
 do so. The colonists were not 
 only unable to support their 
 preacher and governor and his 
 family, but actually tried in vain 
 to raise money enough to pay his 
 expenses when he went across 
 A DELAWARE INDIAN. the occau ou their own affairs. 
 
 When he reached England the government was in such great dis- 
 order that he could do scarcely anything for his colony for some time. 
 But he did not wait in idleness. Being an excellent scholar, he easily 
 found pupils, and by teaching languages to several young men, he earned 
 money enough to pay the cost of his trip. Besides these duties, he wrote 
 pamphlets, and spent a good deal of time in trying to relieve the suffer- 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 251 
 
 ings of the poor miners, wlio were tlien out of work because of the tumult 
 of the times. 
 
 Although Williams staid in England three years, he finally had to 
 leave before the matter of the charter was settled, for trouble had broken 
 out in Rhode Island that made it necessary for him to return at once. 
 So, leaving his business in the hands of Mr. Clark — who had gone with' 
 him from Providence — he went back as soon as he could to make peace.v 
 At last he was rewarded. In August, 1654, after ten years of quarreling, 
 the towns all united in a union and chose Mr. Williams for their 
 president. 
 
 When, ten years after Williams left him, Mr. Clark came back with 
 the charter, it was received with great joy and was at once put into opera- 
 tion. The first governor was a man named Benedict Arnold. Roger 
 Williams — beside being chief pastor to the whole colony — was one of his 
 assistants, and for twelve years everything moved along quietly and 
 pleasantly, to the satisfaction of the residents of the colony. 
 
 DEATH OF THE GREAT CHIEF, KING PHILIP. 
 
 Mr. Williams was growing old now ; but he was strong and able still ; 
 and when not busy with public duties, attended to his private business, 
 wrote religious tracts, and preached to the Indians. Then came the terri- 
 ble scenes of King Philip's war. The Narragansetts could no longer be 
 k:pt from joining the other savages in a general attack upon the pale- 
 faced usurpers. 
 
 When the dusky warriors were seen coming toward Providence, to 
 treat the people there as cruelly as they had used the other settlers, M 
 Williams — then over seventy years old — took his staff and went ou* 3 
 meet them. The old chiefs, who knew him well, came towards hinji .nd 
 told him that they were still his friends, but that the young warriors were 
 so bitter against all the white men that it would not be safe for him to go 
 among them. So he returned to the settlement and joined in the fight. 
 The war lasted a year, only ending with the death of King Philip and 
 almost the entire destruction of the savages. 
 
 About a year afterward, the venerable hero, the friend of the- 
 oppressed everywhere, and the founder of Rhode Island, passed quietly 
 away. 
 
 Roger Williams was born at Conwyl Cayo, Wales, in the year 1606. 
 He died at Providence, Rhode Island, in 1683. 
 
^52 
 
 HENRY W. I^ONGFELI^OW. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 What was tHe most important colony tliat settled in New England ? 
 Can you mention some of tlie most distinguisHed Pilgrims ? Who was 
 Roger Williams ? How was lie received by the New England Puritans ? 
 What was his feeling toward the Indians ? What did the Puritans do to 
 get rid of him ? What Indian chief became friendly to Williams ? When 
 banished where did Williams go ? What meaning was given to the name 
 of Providence ? Can you give some account of the Indians and the wars 
 between them and the white settlers ? What became of Roger Williams 
 in his old age ? Where was he born and when did he die ? 
 
 ijiOjj, 
 
 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW 
 
 THE FAVORITE POET. 
 
 OU have told us nothing about our American poets, 
 said Mabel. Elsie and I have been talking of some 
 of them, and we would like to know more about them. 
 James was not unwilling to be informed on this 
 subject and united his request with that of Mabel. 
 Uncle Frank said he was glad to find his young 
 friends interested in poets and poetry, and would tell 
 them of Longfellow. 
 
 He is the most widely popular of American 
 poets, said Uncle Frank. His beautiful, refined and gentle poems are 
 read by all ages and all classes of people, wherever the English language 
 is spoken. His father was an eminent lawyer in Portland, Maine; his 
 mother was fond of music and poetry, and it was from her, Longfellow 
 believed, that he inherited his imagination and taste for romance. When 
 he was only eight months old his mother wrote of him, " He is an active 
 rogue, and wishes for nothing so much as singing and dancing." He 
 was a sweet-tempered, unselfish little fellow, too. 
 
 The first letter he ever wrote was sent to his father when he was 
 seven years ' old ; he began by asking his father to bring home a little 
 3ible for his younger sister, who wanted one very much, and then, whea 
 
HENRY W. LONGFHI.I.OW. 253 
 
 lie readied tlie last line of his letter, he told about the drum he wanted 
 for himself. Such thoughtfulness for others before himself was as marked 
 all his life as in this little childish letter. There were also an upright- 
 ness and high sense of honor in Mr. Longfellow's character, as well as a 
 gentleness and refinement of feeling, that were admired by those who 
 knew him more than it is possible to admire any written poetry, however 
 beautiful. His life itself was a poem, full of goodness and truth. 
 
 He was a handsome little boy, with brown curls, blue eyes, and rosy 
 cheeks ; and as he grew up he became equally handsome as a man. Even 
 when he was old and white-haired, he was the most beautiful, venerable 
 person that the visitors to Cambridge ever saw. His first verses were 
 written when he was thirteen years old ; he sent them to a town paper, 
 and waited eagerly to see whether or not they would be published. Yes, 
 they were I How excitedly happy he felt I That is until he heard some 
 one — who had no idea who wrote them — say they were " very poor stuff." 
 That changed all his happiness into misery. 
 
 CRITICISM DID HIM GOOD. 
 
 Still, he soon made up his mind to write some more and try and do 
 better. After that a number of his pieces were published in the Portland 
 Gazette. Meanwhile he had some more serious studies than poetry, and 
 when he was fourteen he entered Bowdoin College, at Brunswick, Maine. 
 Here he was particularly distinguished fot his blameless and orderly life. 
 He was merry and fond of amusement, but, as one of his classmates said, 
 " it seemed easy for him to avoid the unworthy." 
 
 As a student he was more noted in composition than for anything 
 else ; he wrote uncommonly well, both in prose and verse. When he 
 graduated he would have been class poet, but that his standing was so 
 good that he had the higher honor of delivering the English Salutatory. 
 
 Soon after he graduated he was asked to return to Brunswick and 
 take the chair of Modern Languages and Literature in the college. He 
 accepted the appointment, but with the understanding that he should first 
 pass some time in Europe to make himself better fitted for his duties. 
 The next four years were spent in travel, in making himself better ac- 
 quainted with foreign languages, in reading and writing, and in leading 
 a most happy life. France, Spain, Italy and Germany were studied, and 
 when he returned he was — though only twenty-three years old — finely 
 fitted for his work. 
 
254 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 He performed his duties so well at Bowdoin tliat after about six 
 years he was oflfered the still more important professorship of Modern 
 Languages and Belles-Lettres at Harvard College. Then he left Bowdoin 
 to make his home in Cambridge for the rest of his life. As before, he 
 made a trip abroad before taking up his duties. It was then that he lost 
 the young wife whom he loved most dearly, and whose memory is pre- 
 served to the world in many of his poems. She died and was buried in 
 Holland. _ 
 
 During these years of his youth and early manhood Longfellow was 
 writing as well as studying ; he was helping to make literature, while 
 deeply interested in that made by others ; but he was so modest in his 
 estimate of his own talents that he was unwilling to come before the 
 public as an author until he had done his best to write something worthy 
 of being printed. Four years after he went to Cambridge^, and when he 
 was thirty-two years old, his romance called " Hyperion " appeared, and 
 also a small collection of his poems, entitled " Voices of the Night." 
 They attracted a great deal of attention, and at once raised him to a place 
 of note and honor among American poets. 
 
 BEAUTIFUL STORY IN BEAUTIFUL VERSE. 
 
 For nearly forty years after this he wrote almost steadily, and every 
 few years the English-speaking people all over the world would rejoice 
 that a new volume of Longfellow's poems was out. One of the most ad- 
 mired of all his writings is " Evangeline," a beautiful story in beautiful 
 verse, which, it is said by those who study poetry for its own sake, is the 
 most perfeci piece of rhyme and melody in English hexameter that is 
 known. 
 
 His next great work was the " Songs of Hiawatha," which is the 
 most popular of all his poetry. That came out eight years after " Evange- 
 line," and a year later he resigned his chair in Harvard University. In 
 the next year, when he went to Europe, he was received everywhere with 
 marked attention. 
 
 Both the great English Universities of Oxford and Cambridge hon- 
 ored him with their degrees of Doctor of Civil Law, and some of the most 
 distinguished people of all the countries he visited welcomed him with 
 cordiality and respect. 
 
 After Mr. Longfellow's first trip abroad he was always in the habit 
 of making translations of some of the best ballad poetry in the European 
 
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 256 
 
 languages ; but in the year 1867, before his last visit to the Old World, 
 he began to publish a careful and scholarly translation of the " Divine 
 Comedy " of the celebrated Italian poet, Dante, which was far more 
 important than any other translations he ever made. 
 
 It makes three volumes altogether, the last of which came out the 
 year after his return. Meantime, he also wrote some delightful works in 
 prose, romances and books of travel. All his writings are full of simplic- 
 ity, purity, and beauty. No word that does not tend to make men better 
 and the world happier ever came from his pen. 
 
 CHARMING POEMS WITH LOFTY THOUGHT. 
 
 It has been said : the great characteristic of Longfellow is that of 
 addressing the moral nature through imagination, of linking moral truth 
 to intellectual beauty. In beautiful language, sweet, singing verse, and 
 cultivated taste, both Dana and Bryant are probably as fine as he ; but he 
 has surpassed them in great thoughts of real importance. The " Psalm 
 of Life " touches the heroic string of our nature, breathes energy into our 
 hearts, sustains our lagging purposes, and fixes our thoughts on that 
 which lasts forever. 
 
 He is a poet who has perfect command of expression. He selects 
 with great delicacy and precision the exact phrase which best expresses or 
 suggests his idea. He colors his style with the skill of a painter, and in 
 compelling words to picture thought he not only has the warm flush and 
 bright tints of language at his command, but he catches its changeful, 
 passing hues. He draws out new meaning from many of life's rough 
 shows ; he clothes subtle and delicate thoughts in familiar imagery ; he 
 embodies high moral sentiment in beautiful and ennobling forms ; he 
 inweaves the golden thread of spiritual being into the texture of common 
 existence ; he discerns and addresses some of the finest sympathies of the 
 heart ; but he rarely soars out of the range of common interests and sym- 
 pathies. 
 
 In " The Psalm of Life " — our critic continues — in " Excelsior " and 
 " The Light of Stars," Longfellow teaches us with much force to reckon 
 earthly evils at their true worth, and to endure with patience what life 
 brings us. '' The Village Blacksmith " and " God's Acre " have a rough 
 grandeur, and " Maidenhood " and "Endymion" a soft, sweet, mystical 
 charm which show to advantage the range of his powers. Perhaps 
 " Maidenhood " is the most finely poetical of all his poems. 
 
256 HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 
 
 The "Spanisli Student," thougli it lacks tlie dramatic skill and 
 power necessary to make a good play, is one of the most beautiful poems 
 in dialogue born in American literature. In it are to be seen tbe imagi- 
 nation, fancy, sentiment, and manner of the 'poet, for it seems to compre- 
 hend the whole of his genius, and to display all the powers of its author 
 as none of his other works do. 
 
 In all, from the first to the last, Mr. Longfellow's writings, like his 
 life, were simple and noble, beautiful and good. Few great men have had 
 such a happy life as he, whom we call the Cambridge Bard. Unlike many 
 poets, he never had to struggle with poverty, or to live lonely and unap- 
 preciated. His gifts were at once recognized, and friends, wealth, and 
 fame came to him without waiting. He was not free from sadness, 
 though. Years after the first Mrs. Longfellow's death, he married again ; 
 and in 1861 this lady met her death by a shocking accident. While 
 dressing for a party her clothes caught fire from a light in the room, and 
 she was burned to death. 
 
 Good fortune sometimes injures our characters more than trials ; but 
 they did no harm to this sunny, gentle nature. If he had known all 
 kinds of griefs, he could scarcely have been more sympathetic with all 
 men, or more of a friend to the unfortunate than he was. 
 
 Henry W Longfellow was born at Portland, Maine, on February 27, 
 1807. He died in Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 24, 1882. 
 
 QUESTIONS. 
 
 Who was Longfellow ? Can you describe his disposition ? What 
 can you say of him as a boy ? What was he, noted for as a student ? 
 What positions as instructor did he hold ? What are the titles of some 
 of his popular poems ? Can you describe the characteristics of his poems ? 
 Where was Longfellow born and when did he die ? 
 
 '0/ 
 
 ^