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THE BAPTISM OF POCAHONTAS. Page 33 
 
STORIES 
 
 OF 
 
 AMERICAN HISTORY. 
 
 T 
 
 By N. S. dodge, 
 
 733 
 
 u,^ 
 
 "•?,'. 
 
 . ^^H OF CO,v^^ 
 
 \ 
 
 '■ O. 1879. 
 
 -/// 
 
 ''Or \!/v-i»^*^'<' 
 
 .0^^:"^ 
 
 B O S T O X : 
 
 LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 CHARLES T. DILLINGHAM. 
 
 1879. 
 
 II 
 
Copyright, 1879, 
 By lee and STIEPARD, 
 
 Jll rightfi reserved. 
 
 
 
/ 
 
 /^f 
 
 CONTENTS. 5/ 
 
 Chapter. Page.' 
 I. Discovery of America 9 
 
 II. Settlement of Plymouth ....... 18 
 
 III. The Hero of Virginia 26 
 
 IV. Wwi THE Colonists came ....... 34 
 
 V. The two Calverts 40 
 
 VI. The Quakers 46 
 
 Vn. Braddock's Defeat 52 
 
 VTII. The Thirteen Colonies 60 
 
 IX. Destruction of the Tea in Boston Harbor ... 69 
 X. The Battle of Lexington ....... 79 
 
 XI. The Battle of Bunker Hili. .... . . 93 
 
 XIT. Same Subject, Continued 101 
 
 XUI, George Washington 110 
 
 XIV. The Declaration of Independence .... 118 
 
 XV. Surrender of Burgoynb 125 
 
 XVI, Arnold and Andre ........ 132 
 
 XVII. France our Ally 142 
 
 XVni. John Paul Jones 148 
 
 XIX. Henry Laurens » • . . 154 
 
 XX. John Laurens 159 
 
 XXI. Surrender of Cornwallis 165 
 
 XXIL Seth PoaiEROY 171 
 
^torie^ of Sir|ericki\ Si^tofy. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 DISCOVERY OF AMEEICA. 
 
 Almost four hundred years ago three ships 
 were bound westward on the Atlantic Ocean. 
 Each showed the flag of Spain. They were 
 commanded by Christopher Columbus. Ten 
 weary weeks they had been at sea, and the 
 sailors had become frightened and homesick. 
 Still Columbus kept crowding sail for the 
 west, until at last there grew to be a mu- 
 tiny. " "We will go no farther," said the sea- 
 men. " Only three days more," answered 
 Columbus ; " and if no land is seen, we will 
 return." It was agreed. So, s^Dreading all 
 sheets to the wind, and sending men into the 
 topsails to look out, the brave commander 
 
lo Stories of American History. 
 
 stood on the bows of his vessel watching for 
 land. 
 
 The sailors did not believe that land was 
 near. Columbus knew better. The water 
 was green ; sea-weeds floated past ; birds 
 flew over the ship ; a log of wood came toss- 
 ing by; the smell of fields was in the air; 
 fishes were caught; a sparrow alighted in 
 the shrouds ; and once, a great tree, with 
 roots and branches, was driven over the 
 waters. 
 
 Columbus and the men watched for land 
 till the sun went down. When it was dark 
 he saw a light far away before the ship. The 
 men on watch saw it, too. He called the 
 sailors, and as they crowded around him, 
 and saw a bright, shining mark moving back 
 and forth, they shouted. Land! land! Co- 
 lumbus now hove-to his three vessels, and 
 waited for day. 
 
 When the sun arose next morning, there 
 was land indeed. Beautiful groves, green 
 
THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA. Page 10. 
 
Discovery of 'America. ii 
 
 fields, shores of sand, little hills, great for- 
 ests, and, far off, high mountains were in 
 sight. On the beach, children were playing ; 
 there were wigwams under the trees ; men 
 with bows and arrows were running down to 
 the shore ; canoes had put out to sea ; fires 
 were kindled in the woods ; and great num- 
 bers of people came together on a tongue 
 of land that reached out into the ocean. 
 
 Columbus anchored his ships, took ten of 
 his sailors in a boat, and rowed ashore. He 
 was afraid the Indians might fight him, and 
 he, therefore, went with loaded guns ; but 
 when the natives saw the skiff pulling for 
 the land, men, women, and children all ran 
 to meet the visitors, and began bowing down 
 to the ground. They thought the white men 
 were gads. The boat they drew ashore ; the 
 rope they tied to a great stone ; the hungry 
 sailors they fed with bananas ; the great 
 chief — as they called Columbus — they sa- 
 luted by kissing his feet ; and the standard 
 
12 
 
 Stories of American History. 
 
 which he planted in the sands they wor- 
 shipped. They invited the sailors to their 
 rude houses, showed them springs of water, 
 brought them great branches of flowers, gave 
 them honeycomb to eat, spread palm leaves 
 for their couches, put gold ornaments on 
 their arms, led their little children up to kiss 
 them, and in every way Avelcomed the new- 
 comers as friends. 
 
 Christopher Columbus was a good Chris- 
 tian; whatever he did he meant for the 
 glory of God. No sooner, therefore, had he 
 and his men landed on the island, than they 
 all knelt on the ground and gave thanks to 
 God. When they arose, Columbus erected a 
 wooden cross, before which they all pros- 
 trated themselves. This was done in token 
 that this new country they had discovered 
 was to be considered a Christian country. 
 
 The Indians looked on in silence ; it was 
 all strange to them ; they did not know the 
 meaning of the cross. What the Indians did 
 
Discovery of America. 13 
 
 was equally strange to Columbus and the 
 sailors. They had never heard of American 
 Indians before ; indeed, they did not know 
 that this place was America ; they thought 
 it was India, and they therefore called its 
 people Indians. Yery unlike any white 
 people, or, indeed, any negroes, were these 
 natives. They had copper-colored skins, 
 straight, black hair, large, dark eyes, high 
 cheeks, and wide mouths. They wore no 
 clothes ; the men had no beards ; women 
 had rings in their noses, and bracelets 
 around their ankles. Boys and men carried 
 spears ; some of them had their faces 
 painted red. They talked a great deal, but 
 in a strange tongue which nobody but them- 
 selves understood. 
 
 When Columbus gave the Indians blue 
 beadS; and bits of yellow glass, they were 
 so pleased that they jumped up and down, 
 and danced around him. Some of the 
 women took the rings off their noses, and 
 
14 Stories of American History. 
 
 gave them to the sailors in return. They all 
 thought that the white men were gods, and 
 that the great ships came out of the skies. 
 
 These Indians were poor ; they had neither 
 tables nor chairs, doors nor windows, fire- 
 places nor chimneys in their wigwams. Such 
 a thing as a mirror they had never seen ; and 
 when a sailor held a small looking-glass be- 
 fore a woman's face, she screamed and ran 
 away. They were very glad to trade, but 
 did not know the value of things, giving a 
 spear for a glass bead, and a gold bracelet 
 for a bit of broken crockery. There were 
 no cows, nor sheep, nor goats, nor cats, nor 
 dogs, on the island. A horse the natives 
 thought to be a wild beast, and the man on 
 his back they believed grew there ; but they 
 had parrots in great numbers, — gray par- 
 rots, green parrots, red parrots, and cocka- 
 toos, and all of them tame. 
 
 Though the Indians wore no clothing, yet 
 they knew how to make cotton yarn, which 
 
Discovery of America. 15 
 
 they exchanged with the sailors for buttons, 
 and toys, and little bells. There was a boy 
 with Columbus who had some bits of broken 
 crockery, which he exchanged with the In- 
 dians for more yarn than he could carry. 
 
 After a little time, two more boats came 011 
 shore from the ships. The Spaniards staid 
 with the Indians till sunset, and then started 
 to go back. This grieved the Indians, who 
 followed the boats along shore, and even 
 plunged into the sea to bring them again to 
 land. 
 
 This island Columbus named San Salvador. 
 Afterwards he discovered other islands, and 
 the continent of America. The natives were 
 sometimes afraid, and would at sight of the 
 ships fly to the woods. Columbus was kind 
 to the Indians and won their love, but the 
 sailors were often rough. One day a small 
 canoe, with a single Indian on board, came 
 to one of the ships. He wanted to exchange 
 cotton yarn for a hawk's bell. As he would 
 
1 6 Stories of America at History. 
 
 not come on deck, several sailors threw them- 
 selves into the sea, and took him prisoner. 
 Columbus saw this, and was angry. He sent 
 a boat to have the poor Indian brought to 
 him, and then he put a colored cap on the 
 man's head, and tied a bright red handker- 
 chief around his neck, and fastened strings 
 of green beads on his arms, and hung hawks' 
 bells to his nose and ears, and put brass rings 
 on his fingers, and sent him back in his 
 canoe. As soon as he found himself free, he 
 paddled for the shore. There the natives 
 came running together to see how grand he 
 was, and Columbus through his telescope 
 could see him marching in his finery up and 
 down the shore, while every one was admir- 
 ing his smartness. 
 
 It was nearly three months before Colum- 
 bus was ready to return. He sailed over the 
 new-found seas, and discovered Cuba, Ja- 
 maica, and many other islands, calling tliem 
 West Indies. The climate was like spring in 
 
Discovery of America. 17 
 
 Spain ; the woods were full of beautiful wild 
 flowers ; birds of a hundred species, with 
 golden feathers, filled the air with songs ; 
 gum-trees and spice-trees yielded pleasant 
 smells; rabbits and conies played in the 
 bushes, and nibbled the green grass; fishes 
 glanced back in the clear waters the bright 
 sunshine from their silvery scales ; delicious 
 fruits grew wild through the forests, and 
 bees made stores of honey in decayed trees. 
 "It is so beautiful a country," Columbus 
 wrote, " that one would never desire to 
 
 leave it." 
 
 2 
 
1 8 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SETTLEMENT OF PLYMOUTH. 
 
 It was cold weather on the New Ena:land 
 coast in December, 1620. At sea, the winds 
 blew and waves tossed. On land, streams 
 were frozen and the snow had fallen deep. 
 The few Indians there were, could neither 
 hunt nor fish. Alono: the coast all that could 
 be seen were bleak headlands and icy 
 shores. There were then neither light- 
 houses to warn a2:ainst shoals, nor buovs to 
 direct to channels. A little ship, named the 
 Mayflower, had weathered Cape Cod, and 
 was cautiously looking for anchorage. She 
 had been one hundred and three days at sea. 
 Besides captain and sailors, there were one 
 hundred and two passengers, men, women 
 and cliildren, on board. Beating about from 
 one point of land to another, she had finally 
 
Settlement of Plymouth. 19 
 
 put in to Plymoiitli harbor. A boat from the 
 ship went ashore. It carried eight persons, 
 besides the sailors who rowed it. These per- 
 sons leaped upon a rock, went back into the 
 woods, saw that the land was good, came 
 again to the boat, and when they had returned 
 to the ship, agreed with their companions to 
 stop and settle there. In the course of a 
 few days, they all disembarked. Log-houses 
 were built, trees were cut down for firewood, 
 the scant furniture they had brought from 
 England was taken ashore, provisions were 
 unladen, and when the ship set sail again for 
 England, these pilgrims were left alone on a 
 bleak shore, in a thick forest, among Indian 
 tribes, in the midst of winter, to get on as 
 best they could. 
 
 Who were they ? And why had they come 
 to America ? They were English people, who 
 wanted to worship God in their own simple 
 way. They could not do so in England, and 
 so they went, first to Holland and staid there 
 
20 Stories of American- History. 
 
 several years. But Holland did not suit 
 them. The people there were kind,, and loved 
 these English Pilgrims. But the speech was 
 strange, and the country full of inhabitants. 
 After a time, therefore, these English people 
 returned to England, and set sail for America. 
 And now, having landed on the shores of 
 New England, they went to work to make 
 themselves as comfortable as they could. 
 Already they had suffered from the cold and 
 rain, and snow and ice, and dashing waves, 
 in getting from the ship to the shore. 
 The old men were made ill. Little children 
 were frost-bitten. Poor women and babies 
 had no shelter. Branches from the trees 
 made their only roof, and fires lighted on the 
 snow gave the only warmth they had. They 
 spread their beds on the ground, and ate 
 their food on their laps, and wrapped them- 
 selves in blankets to keep from freezing, 
 while the healthy men were building huts. 
 Many were sick. • Some days they could not 
 
THE PILGRIMS ON THt WAY. Page 20 
 
Settlement of Plymouth. 21 
 
 work, for the snow that fell. Then- food was 
 stinted. Every day some of the men had to 
 go and catch fish. And all through that 
 long winter, what with wet clothing, and 
 scant food, and cold hands and feet, many 
 were dying every day. Before spring one 
 half of those who had landed from the May- 
 flower had died. 
 
 But these brave men were not discour- 
 aged. They trusted in God. Working every 
 day as they could, resting every Sunday to 
 worship, helping each other to build, speak- 
 ing cheerful words to the sick, niaking warm 
 places for the women and children, and keep- 
 ing up great fires that the old might not 
 freeze, they built, at last, nineteen log huts. 
 When the first mild day came on the third 
 of March, 1621, and the birds began to sing 
 in the woods, everybody had a house where* 
 there was protection from the snow and rain, 
 a table from which to eat, and a bed in which 
 to sleep. ^ 
 
22 Stories of American History. 
 
 During this long winter, the Indians had 
 not troubled them. Once a little band of 
 savages shot some arrows at them from the 
 top of a hill ; but as soon as a gun was fired 
 they ran away. At another time an Indian, 
 named Samoset, came right into their midst 
 as they were felling trees, and said cheer- 
 fully : ''Welcome, Englishmen!" He had 
 learned some English words from fishermen. 
 Afterwards a great sachem came to see them. 
 He was friendly. They gave him buttons and 
 beads, which pleased him, and he made a 
 treaty with the settlers to be friends. Soon 
 after, several of the Pilgrims paid him a visit 
 at his wigwam. They learned that his name 
 was Massasoit. He received them kindlv, 
 gave them corn to plant, and agreed to bring 
 them furs. And when the warm weather came, 
 and the trees were clad with leaves, and rab- 
 bits came out of their burrows, and squirrels 
 ran along the branches, and wild flowers 
 sprang up in the woods, and the air was filled 
 
Settlement of Plymouth. 23 
 
 with the song of birds, this little band of 
 Pilgrims planted the Indian corn, and tended 
 its green blades as they grew up from the 
 ground, until harvest should come. 
 
 But it was not all sunshine during that 
 summer. Before the corn would be ripe, it 
 would be many months. Very little food was 
 left. They caught fish, and dug clams, and 
 snared rabbits, indeed ; but at times they 
 were almost destitute of anything to eat. At 
 night many of the families knew not where 
 they were to find breakfast next day. Chil- 
 dren sometimes cried for bread ; but it was not 
 to be had. Strong men grew faint for want 
 of food. Five kernels of parched corn, at 
 times were all a boy had for his dinner, be- 
 sides an oyster or a crab. But they kept up 
 good courage and trusted in God. Women 
 and children worked out of doors with the 
 men. They felled the trees, and hoed the 
 ground, and shot the wild birds, and mended 
 their huts, and built boats, and traded with 
 
24 Stokies of American Hj story. 
 
 the Indians, until autumn came with its 
 green ears of corn, and yellow pumpkins, 
 and pods of beans, when they carefully 
 gathered all, and were provided for a second 
 winter. 
 
 After this the little colony began to grow. 
 More people came over from England. 
 Towns sprang up. All along the sea-coast 
 villages were built. Ploughs, and hoes, and 
 harrows, and sickles, and flails, were sent over 
 in the ships. Cows, and sheep, and poultry, 
 began to arrive, which the colonists paid 
 for in Indian furs. Horses, too, were sent. 
 Bridle i)aths were cut through the woods. 
 People could go on horseback from place to 
 place, and shortly better houses were built, 
 and barns were made, and meeting-houses, 
 which we call churches, were erected, and 
 school-houses appeared here and there, and 
 gardens were enclosed, and green pastures 
 took the place of woods, and apple orchards 
 were set out, and the great forest was giving 
 
Settlement of Plymouth. 25 
 
 place to a settled country. Everything was 
 beginning to be just as we see it now. 
 
 One winter, when the snow was deep, and 
 the women and children could not well go to 
 meeting on Sunday, Deacon Jones, of Ply- 
 mouth, built a sleigh. It was a rough thing, 
 made of hewed joist for runners, and a sap- 
 ling for a pole. He took the tackling of his 
 boat for harness, and putting his two horses 
 before it, drew his family through the woods 
 to meeting. Everybody laughed ; but the 
 good deacon did not mind. The sleigh took 
 the women and children safely to church and 
 safely back home ; that was enough. Next 
 Sunday another sleigh, full of mothers and 
 daughters, drove up to the meeting-house; 
 and shortly there were a dozen more. They 
 called the harness tackling, as it was, and to 
 this day folks in Massachusetts call all har- 
 ness tackling, though they do not know why. 
 All honor to Deacon Jones for inventing a 
 Bleigh and new name for harness! 
 
26 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE HERO OF VIRGINIA. 
 
 In the settlement of America, tliere were 
 many heroes. Columbus was a hero. Some 
 of the navigators who followed Columbus 
 were heroes. There w^as Hendrich Hudson, 
 who discovered the North Eiver and gave it 
 his name ; there were the Pilgrims, who set- 
 tled Plymouth ; there was William Penn, who 
 founded the colony of Pennsylvania; they 
 were all heroes. But in true heroism, not 
 one was superior to Captain John Smith, 
 who founded Yirginia. Let us see : 
 
 In the year 1603, when he sailed with one 
 hundred and six others, in three ships, from 
 England, to plant a colony in Yirginia, he 
 was only twenty-seven years old. And yet, 
 from boyhood he had been engaged in ad- 
 ventures. He had built himself a hut in an 
 
The Hero of Virginia. 27 
 
 English forest, and hunted and studied there 
 four years; he had been to sea several voy- 
 ages ; he had been thrown overboard, and 
 escaped to land by swimming ; he had fought 
 in many battles on the ocean and on land, 
 and had several times been taken prisoner ; 
 he had travelled all over Europe, had killed 
 three Turks in single combat, and w^as made 
 a major for his gallantry ; had been captured 
 and reduced to slavery, and escaping at last, 
 had wandered many days and nights in for- 
 ests and deserts until he got back to Eng- 
 land. There was never a braver man ; such 
 a thing as fear he did not know. In the 
 very worst he was never disheartened ; when 
 a slave in Turkey he won the heart of his 
 mistress, who set him at liberty ; and when 
 a Tartar prince, who had set him to thresh- 
 ing grain, insulted him, he beat out his mas- 
 ter's brains with a flail, and fled to the woods. 
 All his life^ long he was in one trouble or 
 another ; but he was never discouraged, 
 
28 Stories of American- History. 
 
 never faint-hearted, and never lost his self- 
 reliance. 
 
 The three ships arrived safely in James 
 river, and a town was founded called James- 
 town. Houses were built, trees Avere felled, 
 fields were planted, roads were opened, forts 
 were constructed, the Indians were dealt with 
 fairly, every one of tlie colonists was set to 
 work, and all the prospects were fair. Corn 
 was sometimes scarce, and then Captain 
 Smith, taking men with him, went among 
 the Indians and traded for it. He explored 
 •the sea-coast and made charts, he sailed 
 up the rivers and jDlanned them on maps, 
 he went far into the Indian country and 
 bargained with the natives for land, and he 
 was never weary in his efforts to make 
 Jamestown a great and prosperous place. 
 
 To be sure he had trouble ; all men who 
 are in earnest do. The colonists were some- 
 times idle, and he made them work. The 
 Indians were often ill-tempered and quarrel- 
 
The Hero of Virginia. 29 
 
 some, but he quieted them with presents, or 
 frightened them with guns. Many of the 
 settlers wanted to go back to England, but 
 he encouraged them with good words. Chief 
 men in the colony revolted, but he brought 
 them to obedience by good sense and firm- 
 ness ; and though for a time there was scant 
 food, and much sickness, and many hard- 
 ships. Captain Smith kept the people to- 
 gether by his brave heart. 
 
 He often made journeys up the rivers in a 
 boat ; along the coasts in one of the ships 
 which brought the colonists over from Eng- 
 land ; and up the country on foot, attended by 
 three or four of his men. Upon one of these 
 expeditions, he sailed up the Chickahominy. 
 When the boat could go no farther, he left 
 her in charge of two of his men, telling them 
 to keep watch, one to sleep while the oth^r 
 was awake, while he went farther. After he 
 had gone, the men grew careless, and while 
 both were asleep one night, the Indians 
 
30 Stories of American History. 
 
 killed them and captured the boat. Captain 
 Smith knew nothing of this, but pressed on- 
 ward by land, having with him an Indian 
 guide. As he penetrated the forest, now 
 ascending high mountains and then plunging 
 through morasses and swamps, always ob- 
 serving where he went, and mapping the way 
 on bits of paper; some Indians attacked him, 
 shooting their arrows. He then tied his 
 guide to his arm and made a shield of him, 
 knowing that they would not willingly shoot 
 a comrade. But though not wounded. Smith 
 was at last taken prisoner, and the savages 
 led him to their chief, Powhatan. 
 
 Powhatan was stretched out on a kind of 
 throne of stones. Skins of wild beasts were 
 spread around him ; a blanket wrought with 
 beads covered his legs; he had feathers in his 
 hair, and paint on his face ; one of his wives 
 sat at his head and another at his feet ; warri- 
 ors stood near him, and altogether he seemed 
 quite a king. Although he was gi^eatly 
 
The Hero of Virginia. 31 
 
 pleased with a pocket-compass which Captain 
 Smith gave him, and put on a shirt which 
 the Englishman had brought, and decked 
 himself with the beads and buttons the colo- 
 nists had sent, and accepted a jack-knife and 
 brass ring and a string of bells and some red 
 cloth and needles and thread from his pris- 
 oner, he determined to put him to death. So 
 some of the savages seized the white man, 
 bound him with green withs, threw him on 
 the ground, and w^ere ready to beat out his 
 brains with their clubs. 
 
 Just at that moment a woman's scream 
 was heard. Powhatan started up. The war- 
 riors were startled. In an instant a young 
 Indian girl rushed from the crowd and threw 
 herself on the i)i'ostrate victim. It was Po- 
 cahontas, the young daughter of Powhatan. 
 " Kill me," she cried, " kill me ; you shall not 
 kill him ! " The warriors did not dare to 
 strike. Their blows would have killed the 
 girl. Powhatan's heart was softened. He 
 
32 Stories of America at History. 
 
 forbade the execution. Smith was unbound, 
 and after a time he was allowed to go back 
 to Jamestown. 
 
 Here he found everything in confusion. 
 Other ships with colonists had arrived. 
 These new comers were young gallants who 
 did not want to work. They had heard there 
 was gold in Virginia, and it was that they 
 were after. But Captain Smith knew better. 
 It was with infinite trouble that he persuaded 
 them to settle down to felling trees, and 
 planting corn, and building huts, and making 
 roads, and erecting saw-mills. Many were 
 discontented. Some rebelled. A few went 
 off into the woods and were taken by the In- 
 dians. But by energy and firmness he finally 
 succeeded in making all contented. James- 
 town grew up to be a prosperous colony. 
 But for Captain Smith it would never have 
 succeeded. He went back to England, re^- 
 turned with more colonists, and went back a 
 third time. He was then created admiral of 
 
The Hero of Virginia. 33 
 
 New England, a country not then settled. 
 Tlie charts he published, the- maps he made, 
 and the books he wrote, made the English 
 people acquainted with America. He died 
 in England at the age of fifty-four. 
 
 Pocahontas afterwards married a Mr. Rolfe. 
 He took her to England. Everybody had 
 heard of her heroism in saving Captain 
 Smith's life. The people came in crowds to 
 see her. When she rode through the streets 
 they cheered her. The queen sent for her, 
 and she went to court. Beautiful presents 
 were made her ; great entertainments were 
 given her; she was shown the shops and 
 public buildings, and churches, and bridges, 
 and factories of England ; artists painted her 
 pictures; lords and ladies had her at their 
 houses ; so that the Indian girl became famous. 
 She died just at the time she was about em- 
 barking for Virginia, and her little daughter 
 grew up to be the mother of men and women, 
 who were afterwards famous in Virginia. 
 
34 Stories of American- History. 
 
 CHAPTER ly. 
 
 WHY THE COLONISTS CAME. 
 
 Every one ought to love God. Those who 
 do love Him have a right to worship Him in 
 their own way. Quakers in their way, Catho- 
 lics in theirs, Baptists in theirs. Everybody 
 now in this country, and in many other 
 countries, is allowed to worsliip God as lie 
 pleases ; but a long time ago it was not so. 
 
 In England the Puritans could not worship 
 God as they wished to do. Their Sunday 
 services were broken up, and the worship- 
 pers were thrown into prison. It was the 
 same with the Catholics; it was the same 
 with the Quakers. No matter how good cit- 
 izens they were, they were opposed and per- 
 secuted and punished ; they had not freedom 
 to worship God. 
 
 In France it was worse. There the Hugue- 
 
Why the Colonists Came. 35 
 
 nots were not only opposed, but they were 
 driven from their country. A great many 
 were killed, and a great many more were 
 shut up in prison. 
 
 It was, then, for freedom to worship God, 
 that the Puritans came to Massachusetts, 
 and the Huguenots to South Carolina, and 
 the Quakers to Pennsylvania, and the Cath- 
 olics to Maryland. 
 
 The Puritans had now freedom to Avorship 
 God in their new home ; but they were not 
 willing that Quakers should have that free- 
 dom, and whenever Quakers came among 
 them, they were persecuted and banished. 
 They sent away the Baptists, too, and the 
 " New Lights," as they were called, and the 
 Catholics. The Puritans wanted none to live 
 with them who were not Puritans. 
 
 Nowhere in the whole world was it then 
 understood what religious freedom meant. 
 The Episcopalians in Virginia did not under- 
 stand it, nor the Huguenots in South Carolina, 
 
36 Stories of American History. 
 
 nor the Quakers in Pennsylvania. They did 
 not all persecute those who worshipj^ed God 
 differently from themselves, but they did not 
 faror them. 
 
 "When Eoger Williams, who was a good 
 man, was banished from Massachusetts, he 
 went to Ehode Island. There were no roads ; 
 no farms on the way ; no people but savages. 
 His only crime was that he was a Baptist. 
 He found his path through the woods with a 
 brave heart. There were people who went 
 with him. The Indians were kind to him. 
 The land was better than in Massachusetts. 
 Other people shortly came to him, and in a 
 little time there was a flourishing colony in 
 Ehode Island. And in that colony every one 
 — Congregationalists, Presbyterians, Catho- 
 lics, Episcopalians, and Quakers — might 
 worship God as they pleased. There was 
 no persecution. The Baptists who settled 
 Ehode Island had no more rights than the 
 Quakers and others who came to live there. 
 This was true religious freedom. 
 
Why the Colonists Came. 37 
 
 But Ehode Island was not the first colony 
 whicli did this great and good thing. Two 
 years before Roger Williams, with pack on 
 back, trudged through the woods towards 
 Providence, an English nobleman, named 
 Lord Baltimore, sent two ships into the 
 beautiful Chesapeake, with more than two 
 hundred people on board, all of whom were 
 Catholics. It was the richest body of colo- 
 nists which had ever come to America. They 
 were nearly all gentlefolk, well educated, re- 
 fined, and good. They, too, had left England 
 because they could not worship God as they 
 desired. 
 
 It is a milder climate around the Chesa- 
 peake Bay, and the settlers did not suffer as 
 the Puritans had in Massachusetts. Besides, 
 it was a better time of the year, and the new 
 comers had money, and furniture, and tools, 
 and goods to sell to the Indians. Lord 
 Baltimore selected choice land near St. 
 Mary's, for which he paid the natives, and 
 
38 Stories of American History. 
 
 plantations were laid out, woods cut down, 
 fences built, houses erected, and very shortly 
 a charming settlement was growing up. 
 
 The new colony was called Maryland, in 
 honor of the queen of Charles L, Henrietta 
 Maria, and the new city was called Baltimore, 
 from the founder. There was prosperity in 
 Maryland from the first. The country is 
 beautiful. A great sheet of water flows be- 
 tween two parts of it, and from both shores 
 the land rolls back in hills and dales, green 
 fields and rich meadows. People who live in 
 Maryland think no other portion of the world 
 is its equal. 
 
 Lord Baltimore made wise laws. Among 
 them was one which gave entire freedom of 
 conscience to every colonist. JS'o matter what 
 his religion, he might enjoy it undisturbed. 
 Baptist or ^lethodist, Quaker or "IJs'ew Light," 
 he could worship God as he pleased. 
 
 Grave old men in other colonies shook 
 their heads doubtfully, and said it would 
 
Why the Colonists Came. 
 
 39 
 
 never do. Religion would get terribly 
 mixed, and children would grow up not 
 knowing what to believe. But it did do. 
 Eeligion was not mixed, and no more re- 
 ligious children ever grew up. 
 
 As soon as it became known that Mary- 
 land law gave freedom of conscience, settlers 
 began to come from all the w^orld, and good, 
 conscientious settlers, too. Episcopalians 
 came from Virginia, and Puritans from New 
 England, and Huguenots from Europe, and 
 Swedes from Delaware, and Dutch from New 
 York. 
 
 Eoger Williams gave freedom of conscience 
 to Rhode Islanders in 1636. Lord Baltimore 
 gave freedom of conscience to the Maryland- 
 ers in 163^1:. Maryland was the first com- 
 munity in the whole world in which entire 
 freedom of conscience was ever given to 
 every citizen. 
 
40 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTEK Y. 
 
 THE TWO CALVERTS. 
 
 The father of Lord Baltimore, whose name 
 w^as given to the beautiful capital of Mary- 
 land, was Sir George Calvert. His portrait, 
 hanging in Hampton Com*t Palace, represents 
 him to have been a fine English gentleman, 
 dressed in a scarlet suit, with lace cufi's and 
 a ruffle shirt, his long brown locks, with 
 sheen like silk, flowing over his collar and 
 scattered along his shoulders. His benevo- 
 lent face was an index of his heart. He had 
 been educated at Oxford, had travelled over 
 Europe, , and was one of the secretaries of 
 State when James First was king. His good 
 judgment, great industry and strict truthful- 
 ness made his services so valuable, that when 
 he openly professed conversion to the Catho- 
 lic church and resigned his office, the king, 
 
The Two Calverts. 41 
 
 Protestant tliougli he was, would not spare 
 him. He said, in his broad Scotch, to those 
 who felt bitter towards Sir George, " Nae, nae, 
 gang he to kirk or cathedral, ive maun keep 
 GeorgieJ^ 
 
 The first attempt of Sir George Calvert to 
 form a colony failed. It was in Newfound- 
 land. He sent out many people, and visited 
 Avalon, as he called it, twice. But it was too 
 cold. The winters were long. And in addi- 
 tion to a poor soil were the constant dangers 
 from the French, who claimed the country as 
 theirs. He then asked Virginia to allow his 
 colonists to settle there. But Virginia did 
 not want Catholics. And so Sir George was 
 forced to beg King James for a grant, and re- 
 ceived in answer the beautiful country of 
 Maryland. 
 
 Before asking any one to join him, Sir 
 George Calvert made the laws for his new 
 colony. To make wise laws is to be like 
 God,- all of whose laws are wise. Calvert's 
 
42 Stories of American History. 
 
 laws were very wise. Every one was to be 
 free. All persons were to enjoy liberty of 
 conscience. The people were to vote their 
 own taxes. The king was to have nothing ; 
 and every governor was to take this oatli : 
 "" I ivill not, hy myself or any oilier^ dlredly or 
 indirectly, molest any person professing to believe 
 in Jesus Christ, fur or in respect of reliyionr 
 Sir George Calvert deserves to be ranked as 
 a wise law-giver. 
 
 Before the colony was settled, this good 
 man died. But he had the greatest happi- 
 ness there is in this world, — a wise and good 
 son. Sir Cecil Calvert, who became Lord Bal- 
 timore, was as great and good as his father 
 had been. He succeeded to the wealth and 
 opinions of Sir George Calvert, and what the 
 one had planned the other carried out. 
 
 As soon as it became known what the laws 
 of the new colony were to be, many persons 
 sold their property in England, and prepared 
 to cross the ocean. A large ship, named the 
 
The Two Calverts. 43 
 
 "Ark," and a small ship, called the "Dove," 
 set sail in November, 1683, for America. 
 Leonard Calvert, a brother of Lord Balti- 
 more, led the expedition. After a prosperous 
 voyage, the two vessels reached Point Com- 
 fort, and entering the Potomac river in the 
 month of February, cast anchor near a beau- 
 tiful island. Landing, they planted here a 
 cross, and claimed the country for Christ and 
 England. 
 
 As the ships sailed up the river, whose 
 banks were covered with flowering forest 
 trees, the new-comers were delighted. The 
 air was balmy ; the woods were musical with 
 singing birds; the deer, unterrified, lifted their 
 heads from drinking and gazed at the passers- 
 by ; rabbits and raccoons sported along the 
 glades, and wild turkeys and partridges 
 roosted on the branches ; and everything in 
 nature seemed in kindly accord with the 
 intentions of the benevolent founder. 
 
 In the river St. Mary, about twelve miles 
 
44 Stories of American History. 
 
 _ ..-.—.■■ - . ■ -_...- ■ - — I. ■ ■ ■■ -I. I < 
 
 from where it empties into the Potomac, the 
 ships were anchored near an Indian town 
 called Toacomoco. It was a pleasant coun- 
 try. There were meadows green with grass, 
 and fields of sprouting corn, and brooks of 
 pure water. The inhabitants were gentle 
 and kind. It seemed to the sea voyagers a 
 little paradise, and they did not wish to go 
 away. 
 
 Young Calvert asked the Indians if they 
 would sell their lands. They called a great 
 council, smoked their pipes, and the next 
 day answered thus : " We will stay till the 
 corn is ripe, and 3^ou may stay with us and 
 build you houses. When harvest is past, 
 we will give our lands for hoes and axes 
 and cloth, and then move away." The 
 bargain was made. All the voyagers came 
 ashore and lodged in Indian wigwams. The 
 squaws taught the English women how to 
 make corn bread, and the chiefs the men 
 how to snare game. As it was spring time, 
 
The Two Calve rts. 45 
 
 gardens were made, and fields planted, and 
 houses built, and before winter, when the 
 Indians left them, Lord Baltimore's little 
 colony was as comfortable as Plymouth, 
 which had been settled for fourteen years. 
 
 For the many years that Lord Baltimore 
 lived, there was friendship and love between 
 him and the growing colony. He sent over 
 new settlers ; he supplied the inhabitants 
 with tools ; he founded libraries, and sent 
 missionaries to convert and teach the Li- 
 dians. 
 
 On the other hand, the colonists were 
 grateful. They sent presents back to their 
 founder; shipped to him furs and tobacco 
 and corn ; and publicly thanked him for his 
 "great charge and solicitude in protecting 
 them in their persons, rights, and liberties." 
 
46 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTEE YI. 
 
 THE QUAKERS. 
 
 Massachusetts would not have Quakers. 
 Laws were made that they shoiild not stay. 
 If they came back they w^ere punished, and 
 sent away a second time. If they returned 
 again, they were put to death. Four ]3ersons 
 kept coming back and were hanged. These 
 were cruel laws, and lasted but a few years. 
 
 The Quakers were good people. But the 
 Puritans did not believe this. They thought 
 them bad. For many j^ars in Massachu- 
 setts, long time after the laws had ceased 
 to punish them, the Quakers were not wel- 
 come. 
 
 In England, the numbers of Quakers kept 
 increasing year after year. Gentle-folks and 
 people of quality joined them. As they be- 
 came better known they were more respected. 
 
The Quakers. 47 
 
 Although peculiar in speech and dress, they 
 were honest, temperate, industrious, and 
 saving ; they took care of their poor, minded 
 their business, studied the Bible, obeyed the 
 laws, and were prosperous. Many were in- 
 telligent. There were only two things against 
 them. They would not become soldiers, and 
 they would not take off their hats to noble- 
 men or kings. It was wicked, they said, to 
 kill. And they took off their hats only when 
 they worshipped God. 
 
 William Penn joined them. He was a 
 young man, a fine, handsome fellow. Known 
 at court, rich, and a friend of the king, 
 everybody liked him, though they laughed 
 at his becoming a Quaker. But he was sin- 
 cere. He believed the Quakers were right. 
 He therefore stood by them, and though his 
 old friends jeered at him, yet he did not 
 flinch. Out and out, William Penn was a 
 Quaker. 
 
 Other sects were settling America. Why 
 
48 StORJES of a me RICA A'- HiSTORY. 
 
 „_^ — . _ — — — -— — I — ■ « 
 
 should not the Quakers ? And they did. 
 Of all the colonies, Massachusetts, Maryland, 
 South Carolina, New York, Rhode Island, or 
 any other, not one started in better order than 
 Pennsylvania. This colony the Quakers set- 
 tled, and it is of this colony this chapter tells. 
 
 When William Penn had obtained a large 
 grant of land from the king, and had sailed 
 with many Quakers for America, he made 
 laws about the treatment of the Indians. He 
 knew how badly some of the other colonies 
 had treated the poor natives, and he deter- 
 mined that it should not be so in Pennsyl- 
 vania. They were to be dealt with fairly. 
 Their lands were not to be taken away by 
 force, but to be bought and paid for. There 
 was to be no quarrelling. If a white man 
 cheated or hurt a savage he was to be pun- 
 ished. They were all to live together as 
 brethren. 
 
 When the Quaker colonists, therefore, were 
 landed, Penn sent a message to the neigh- 
 
The Quakers. 49 
 
 boring Indians to come together and see him 
 on a certain day. He wanted a great Indian 
 council of old men and young men, chiefs 
 and braves, women and children, to hear 
 what he had to say. They were to be told 
 that he was a man of peace, and that neither 
 he nor his men would bring any weapons to 
 the council. 
 
 The Indians gladly accepted Penn's invita- 
 tion, and on the appointed day the woods 
 were full of Indians, with their squaws and 
 pappooses, hastening to the meeting. There 
 was no skulking behind the trees ; there was 
 no warwhoop ; there were no arrows shot nor 
 tomahawks hurled ; there were no savage 
 yells. Everything was peaceful, and all 
 around was heard the prattle of children to 
 their laughing mothers, mingled with the 
 piping of blue jays and songs of blackbirds. 
 
 It was a charming spot which Penn had 
 chosen. From the hill-top, where all the 
 crowd was gathered, could be seen the river 
 
50 Stories of American History. 
 
 flowing between green meadows. Great for- 
 ests covered the distant mountains. All 
 around were blossoming trees and budding 
 shrubbery, spreading oaks and tall pines, 
 sweet scented foliaore and brio'ht colored wild 
 flowers, and overhead was the great blue 
 firmament Food was prepared for the In- 
 dians, and when they had eaten, the council 
 was formed. 
 
 First, the old men sat on the ground in a 
 half circle. Then the warriors sat behind 
 them, and in the third half circle sat the 
 young men. The women and ctildren staid 
 outside. When all were still, a stoutish man, 
 Avith a red face beaming good-nature, stood 
 up and began to speak. He wore no arms, 
 and had no uniform. There were no soldiers 
 around him. He was clad in a suit of drab- 
 colored clothes, and wore a broad-brim hat, 
 which he did not remove from his head. 
 This was William Penn. 
 
 The Indians listened attentively while the 
 
The Quakers. 5 1 
 
 interpreter told them what Penn said. As he 
 explained that the great God above was 
 father of both Avhite men and red men, and 
 that all were brothers and should live to- 
 gether in peace, an Indian ever^ now and 
 then would say Ugh, which meant, that is good. 
 After he had finished, a pipe was lighted, and 
 passed around, every one taking a whiff. 
 The Indians then talked with each other and 
 agreed that all which Penn had said was 
 good. '' It is better to be friends than ene- 
 mies," they said to each other, " and we will 
 make, therefore, a treaty with the white men." 
 This was done, and for many years it was 
 never broken. Indians and whites hunted 
 and fished, bought and sold together, without 
 a quarrel. There were no wars. The colony 
 grew prosperous. The Indians kept their 
 word. And white men found out for the first 
 time that savages are much as they are 
 treated, — good, when you do them good, and 
 bad, when you treat them badly. 
 
52 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 
 
 The Englisli settled one part of America. 
 The French settled another. The two could 
 never a2:ree. Ohio was then a forest. French 
 troops came from Canada and built Fort 
 Duquesne, meaning to make Ohio theirs. 
 Fort Duquesne was where Pittsburg is now. 
 The English meant to drive the French away 
 from this fort. They therefore sent an army 
 from Ena;land to America. It was com- 
 manded by General Braddock. 
 
 When General Braddock had landed in 
 Virginia, he asked where George AYashington 
 was. " Colonel Washington," he said, " that 
 brave young American officer, Avhere is he ? 
 I want him to help me." 
 
 When Washington came to him, Braddock 
 saw a tall, large, handsome, young man, and 
 
B HADDOCK'S Defeat. 53 
 
 he said to liim, " I want you, sir, to take your 
 Virginia riflemen, and go with me and my 
 army to drive the French from Ohio." Wash- 
 ington had fought the French and Indians 
 before, and General Braddock knew it. In- 
 dians do not light as white men do. They 
 skulk behind trees, and shoot from the shelter 
 of rocks, and never come out boldly. Wash- 
 ington knew how to fight Indians. General 
 Braddock did not know. This was why he 
 wanted Washington to be his aide-de-camp. 
 
 Washington replied, "Yes, general, I will 
 go with you." 
 
 He then took three companies of Virginia 
 riflemen, and joined General Braddock's 
 army. 
 
 It was on a jileasant June day that the 
 army started for Ohio. The sky was clear, 
 the birds sang in the trees, children were 
 playing in the yards, and people stood on 
 the roadside to see the troops go by. It was 
 a brave show. Drums were beating, and 
 
54 Stories of American- History. 
 
 fifes playing ; banners were flying above the 
 red-coated soldiers; officers with swords and 
 epaulettes, were marching alongside ; horses, 
 in rich saddle-cloths, bore General Braddock 
 and his aids in advance ; and everybody was 
 in good heart. The cannon lumbered along. 
 Wagons, with tents, followed. There were 
 carts filled with food, and negroes to cook, 
 and sappers and woodmen to cut down the 
 trees, and engineers to build bridges across 
 deep rivers, and mules laden with tools, 
 and pack-horses loaded with blankets, and 
 ambulances for the surgeons, and great 
 wagons, with anvils and hammers and 
 horseshoes. Never was an army so well 
 prepared. General Braddock was sure of 
 victory. 
 
 In a day or two the army plunged into the 
 forest. There were no longer roads. They 
 had to go along bridle-paths, and cut down 
 trees, and build bridges to get the cannon 
 across rivers, and climb hills, and slump 
 
Braddock's Defeat. 55 
 
 tliroiigli swamps, and sometimes to stop to 
 mend wagons and shoe horses ; still, day after 
 day, the army tramped on, sm^e of victory 
 when they reached Fort Dnquesne. 
 
 It was now the 8th of July. They had 
 been more than four weeks on the march. 
 It w^as only eight miles to Fort Duquesne. 
 The troops, tired and hungry, encamped for 
 the night. They were on the top of a hill. 
 In the twilight General Braddock and his 
 officers stood looking with their spy-glasses 
 over the ground they were to pass. " It 
 is all clear," said one aide-de-camp; "they 
 can't escape us to-morrow." 
 
 " I think that is certain," remarked Colonel 
 Johnson ; " we shall have them in close 
 quarters before another day." 
 
 " I hope so," said General Braddock ; " but 
 what do you think, Colonel Washington ? " 
 
 " If we are very careful," replied Washing- 
 ton, " I thing we may succeed. But yonder, 
 between us and the fort, is a deep pass. I 
 
56 Stories of American History. 
 
 fear tliat. The Indians may attack us there. 
 If they do, we shall be powerless. Let me 
 go in advance with my rangers and make all 
 secure." 
 
 General Braddock did not think it best. 
 Besides, he grew a little angry. He was an 
 old soldier, and thought he knew better than 
 a young American. " What," he exclaimed, 
 " a Virginia buckskin boy advise an old Brit- 
 ish commander ! " And so, next day, with- 
 out any skirmishing in advance, the army 
 again plunged into the woods, marching 
 towards Fort Duquesne. 
 
 It was nearly noon. The day was hot. 
 Everything in the woods was quiet. There 
 was no sound beyond the tramp of the army. 
 Toiling on through the bushes the soldiers 
 went, suspecting no harm. On one side was 
 a hill, but they saw nothing there. It was 
 dinner they wanted. In a few minutes they 
 expected the command to halt. So, with their 
 guns on their shoulders, and knapsacks loos- 
 
Braddock's Defeat. 57 
 
 ened, and cartridge-boxes unsliing, tliey were 
 toiling along, when suddenly there came a 
 murderous fire from right above them. They 
 saw no enemy. There was no foe to resist. 
 And yet hundreds of officers and men were 
 shot to the ground. The firing continued. 
 From the tangled forest, that clothed the hill 
 beneath which they stood, came the yells 
 of savages and the crack of rifles. The 
 troops were thrown into confusion. The 
 wounded and dead were all around them. 
 Whose turn would be next, no one knew. 
 Everv one was ready to flv. Gen. Braddock 
 and his staff rode forward encouraging the 
 soldiers, but it did no good. Five horses, 
 one after the other, were killed under him. 
 He rallied the men, brought up the reserves, 
 fired the cannon, scaled the rocks, charged 
 with the bayonet, led parties up the hill, and 
 did all that ^ brave man could do. It was in 
 vain. From behind trees and rocks, and 
 thick bushes, the Indians poured their deadly 
 
58 Stories of American History. 
 
 fire, until the British troops were compelled 
 to fly. Poor Bracldock was wounded, his 
 officers were killed, soldiers were shot like 
 sheep, and the whole army was in a rout. 
 
 It was then that Washington and his rifle- 
 men came up from the rear. They climbed 
 the hill. Every man skulked from tree to 
 tree. Unlike the British troops, they did not 
 march in column. Whenever a red-skin 
 showed himself, they fired at him. They 
 fought the Indians in their own way. And 
 though they could not conquer them, they 
 held them at bay until the British troops had 
 retreated to a safe place. 
 
 It was a terrible battle. Had General 
 Braddock listened to Washington's advice, 
 it might have been different. Washington 
 knew the method of Indian warfare. He 
 feared a surprise. That very morning he had 
 warned General Braddock. "Let me scour 
 the woods with my riflemen," he had said. 
 But Braddock thought he knew best. He 
 
Braddock's Defeat. 59 
 
 did not relish advice. And so, with banners 
 flying, and drums beating, he marched his 
 soldiers into the very trap the French and 
 Indians had set for him. 
 
 While Washington and his riflemen were 
 engaging the Indians, the British troops 
 drew back. They abandoned their baggage, 
 stores, and guns. Seven hundred soldiers 
 lay killed on the field. General Braddock 
 was mortally wounded. Twenty-six officers 
 were killed, and more than fifty were wound- 
 ed. The army would not tarry. Leaving 
 everything behind, while Washington and 
 his riflemen were protecting them from pur- 
 suit, before nightfall they were well on their 
 way back to Yirginia, 
 
 Washington drew off his riflemen in good 
 order, and followed after. He had saved the 
 British armv. Had his advice been followed, 
 a victory would have been won. 
 
6o Stories of American ' History. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE THIRTEEN COLONIES. 
 
 OxE hundred and fifty years after Captain 
 John Smith founded Jamestown, there had 
 grown to be thirteen great colonies in Amer- 
 ica. It was no longer a vast forest. Thou- 
 sands of ships had come and gone, and tens 
 of thousands of farmers and mechanics, min- 
 isters and lawyers, poor men and men with 
 money, had come to settle in this country. In 
 ISTew England, there were four colonies, Mas- 
 sachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecticut, and 
 Ehode Island. The Dutch had settled New 
 York; the Catholics, Maryland; and the Qua- 
 kers, Pennsylvania. Then, besides Virginia, 
 there were North Carolina and South Carolina 
 and Georgia in the Soutli, and New Jersey 
 and Delaware in the middle of the country. 
 There were, indeed, no railroads. Going from 
 
The Thirteen Colo ivies. 6i 
 
 place to place was difficult. It took three 
 days to reach New York from Boston, and 
 five days to get to Philadelphia, and a week 
 to go to Baltimore, and ten days to be safe 
 in Richmond. As for Wilmington in North 
 Carolina, or Charleston in South Carolina, 
 nobody went there save in ships. 
 
 But all these thirteen colonies were pros- 
 perous. There were cultivated farms, and 
 convenient houses ; there were roads from 
 town to town ; there were bridges across the 
 rivers, and mills on the streams, and school- 
 houses in the villages. On week days men 
 worked in the fields, and on Sundays wor- 
 shipped God in the churches. Everywhere, 
 all over this great country, every one was 
 contented. 
 
 What right had George the Third to trouble 
 the people ? They had cleared the land, and 
 built the houses. They had made laws and 
 obeyed them. English ships might come 
 and trade ; English people were welcome to 
 
62 Stories of American History. 
 
 settle ; English goods were bought and sold. 
 But the king was not content. He called 
 these colonies his. lie wanted their money. 
 If their ships sailed to the West Indies, lie 
 claimed part of every cargo ; if one colony 
 traded with another, he wanted a share of the 
 profits; if land was bought or sold, he de- 
 manded some of the money ; and when the 
 schoolmaster was paid, or the colleges gave 
 diplomas, or a ship brought goods, or a fac- 
 tory made cloth, or a man kept a horse and 
 carriage, King George asked for a tax. He 
 taxed everything. He sent men to collect the 
 taxes. He punished those who would not 
 pay. And he quartered on the people soldiers, 
 to compel those who were not willing. 
 
 What right had he to do this ? None 
 whatever. The colonists knew that he was 
 wrong, and they resisted ; when he taxed 
 paper they would not buy it ; when he bil- 
 leted his soldiers on the householders they 
 bolted their doors ; when he sent tea over in 
 
The Thirteen Colonies. 63 
 
 his ships, they made the ships go back with 
 their cargo, or threw it into the sea. 
 
 Like all misunderstandings which are not 
 settled, this difference between King George 
 and the Americans grew into a bitter quarrel. 
 The colonists sent Benjamin Franklin to 
 England, that he might explain to the king. 
 He was one of theii^ wise men, and they 
 thought that the king and his parliament 
 would listen to what he said. They also 
 wrote letters, and made addresses, and 
 passed resolutions ; it was liberty only that 
 they wanted; they did not wish to revolt; 
 England they came from, and England they 
 loved ; it was their mother country ; they 
 called themselves Englishmen ; they had 
 fought for the king, and were willing to fight 
 for him again. " Give us our liberties," they 
 said ; " we ask nothing more. We will buy 
 your goods, and receive your ships, and wel- 
 come your people, and acknowledge your 
 rulers, and help you fight your battles." 
 
64 Stoj?/es of American History. 
 
 But it would not do ; Kins: Geor2:e would 
 not listen to reason ; he felt strong ; the col- 
 onists, he thought, were weak. He wanted 
 money ; this he would not yield. The taxes 
 on tea, on paper, on industry, on sales, on 
 ships when they sailed, and merchants when 
 they traded, and mechanics when they built 
 factories, and farmers when they sold their 
 crops, and backwoodsmen when they brought 
 in their peltry, and even lawyers when they 
 practised, and clergymen when they preached, 
 and priests when they celebrated mass, he 
 w^ould not give up. " Pay the taxes," he said, 
 " and you shall have your liberties! " 
 
 It was upon this question of taxes that the 
 quarrel ever grew. Year after year the king 
 imposed his taxes ; 3^ear after year the colo- 
 nists refused to pay them. The quarrel kept 
 increasing ; it was the same all over the 
 country ; in New York, and in Massachusetts, 
 in New Hampshire, and far-distant Carolina, 
 it was the same. " Pay the taxes I" said the 
 
The Thirteen Colonies. 65 
 
 king. " We will not pay tliem ! " answered 
 the colonists. And when he sent armies to 
 Charleston, and New York, and Boston, to 
 force the people to pay, the colonists laughed 
 at the soldiers, and taunted the commanders, 
 and disobeyed the governors. 
 
 In Boston, the people became very angry. 
 They insulted the soldiers. "AVliat right," 
 they asked, " have these redcoats here ? " 
 The soldiers on their side, too, were over- 
 bearing. They called hard names. " Tou are 
 rebels!" they said. "If you don't obey -the 
 king, we will make you slaves!" — "Slaves, 
 and be hanged to you ! " cried a man one 
 day. "Why don't you try it? You are 
 cowards, every mother's son of you ! Fire, 
 if you dare ! " 
 
 And so the quarrel grew. The very 
 boys laughed at the soldiers. Nobody would 
 speak to them. In the streets, and on the 
 Common, and down the wharves, and around 
 the taverns, and through the alleys, and out 
 
66 Stories of American History. 
 
 of tlie windows, and under the stoops, when- 
 ever a soldier appeared, there was somebody 
 to cry out, "Lobster-back! Down with the 
 lobster-backs ! " 
 
 Of course this state of things could not 
 last. There was sure to be some trouble. It 
 was as if a mastiff and a bull-dog were growl- 
 ing at each other in the same yard^ Sooner 
 or later a fight was certain to come ; and so 
 it turned out here in Boston. One evening, 
 — it was the fifth of March, 1770, — the 
 crowd of men and boys got angry with a 
 soldier in State Street, because he had struck 
 a little negro child, and they chased him 
 to his barracks. Soon a squad of soldiers 
 marched out into the street to disperse the 
 crowd ; but the people would not go home. 
 They shouted, " Lobster -backs ! lobster- 
 backs ! Fire, if you dare, you cowards ! 
 You don't dare to fire ! " As the soldiers, 
 with guns on shoulder, marched along, the 
 people threw stones at them, until one of 
 
The Thirteen Colonies. 67 
 
 the soldiers, being hit by. a brickbat, fired his 
 gun into the crowd. Then several other sol- 
 diers fired their guns. Two citizens were 
 killed, and five or six w^ere wounded. And 
 now the whole town was aroused. " Murder, 
 murder ! " was the cry. The bells began 
 to ring ; quiet citizens turned out of' their 
 houses ; j)eople were running one way and 
 another; and the dead and wounded were 
 taken up and conveyed to their homes. A 
 great funeral took place the next day, and 
 thousands of citizens followed at the burial. 
 The soldiers who had fired were arrested and 
 put in prison. Instead of fi'ightening the 
 people, this massacre only enraged them. 
 " Down with the redcoats ! " was now their 
 only cry ; and, in the end, the British troops 
 were removed from Boston, and sent dow^n 
 to the fort. 
 
 It was now a deadly quarrel between Amer- 
 ica and England. In New York, and New 
 Jersey, and the Carolinas, there was but one 
 
68 Stories of American History. 
 
 feeling of hatred towards the king of Eng- 
 land and his soldiers ; and though there was 
 not open war for five years to come, there 
 were preparations being made for what wise 
 men foresaw was sm-e to be. 
 
Destruction of the Tea. 69 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 DESTRUCTION OF THE TEA IN BOSTON HARBOR. 
 
 The quarrel did not stop. It never does 
 when men have courage to be free. The 
 Americans had that courage. They would 
 not be taxed without their consent. When 
 the King, George III, determined to let them 
 have no tea, except that which was sent in 
 his own ships, they said, " We will have no 
 tea at all." Their own ships were stopped 
 from going for cargoes of tea. The king's 
 ships, only, were to bring it. They could 
 have no tea unless they bought that which 
 the king's ships brought over from Engliyid, 
 and that tea was taxed. 
 
 N"ow it was not the tax only. That was 
 only a few 'cents on each pound of tea. It 
 was the right of the king to tax, that the 
 Americans disputed. They did not care for 
 
70 Stories of American History. 
 
 the money. Tliey cared for the right to 
 import their own teas. It was as if a big, 
 bully boy should say to the small boys, " Pay 
 me a marble, or you shall not play on the 
 green." It was not the marble each little boy 
 would mind. Nobody cares much for a mar- 
 ble. "But what right have you to make us pay 
 a marble for coming in here to play?" the lit- 
 tle boys would ask. " The ground is as much 
 ours as yours. It is a tax ; we won't pay it." 
 It was just this with the Americans. And 
 so, when the king sent three ships laden 
 with tea to Charleston, and fom' to Philadel- 
 phia, and three to New York, and three to 
 Boston, the people in Charleston, Philadel- 
 phia, New York, and Boston, determined the 
 tea should not be landed. In Charleston, in- 
 deed, they did land it ; but no one dared to 
 sell it, and it perished in the cellars, where it 
 w^as stored. In Philadelphia, five thousand 
 people collected, and frightened the captains 
 of the tea ships so that they set sail back fo? 
 
Destruction of the Tea. 71 
 
 England. New York did the same. The tea 
 did not come into port there. All but eigh- 
 teen chests went back to England, the owners 
 of the tea being afraid of the people. In Bos- 
 ton, it was different. The three ships came 
 into port. They were loaded with tea. Gov- 
 ernor Hutchinson was determined it should 
 be landed. The people were determined it 
 should not. And it is this quarrel between 
 the governor and the people which is now to 
 be told. 
 
 It was a bright Sunday morning, that 29th 
 of November, 1773. The bells in Boston 
 were ringing for church. Parents and 
 children were dressed in their best. To the 
 Old South, to King's Chapel, and to other 
 places of worship, everybody was hastening. 
 No shops were open, no wagons crowded the 
 streets, no sellers cried their wares, no bovs 
 were at play. It was the Lord's day, and all the 
 people kept it holy. At eleven o'clock, while 
 the ministers were preaching, there came the 
 
72 Stories of American History. 
 
 news tliat the " Dartmouth " was in sight. 
 She was coming np the bay. No sooner had 
 the services ended than the people, coming 
 out of meeting, got the news. ' It spread from 
 one to the other. "The 'Dartmouth' is in," 
 was in everybody's mouth. Groups stopped 
 in the streets. It was not the sermons now, 
 but the news, everybody was talking about. 
 What was to be done, no one knew. It was 
 Sunday, but the hours were precious. If 
 they waited till Monday, the tea might be 
 landed. And so, God's day though it was, 
 the selectmen had a meeting at noon, and a 
 meeting in the evening. 
 
 And now was coming on the bravest day 
 Boston had ever seen. Mr. Kotch owned the 
 "Dartmouth." The selectmen got his promise 
 not to land the tea till Tuesday. They then 
 sent men to Dorchester, Eoxbury, Brookline, 
 Cambridge, and Charlestown, to tell the peo- 
 ple there would be a meeting at Faneuil Hall 
 Monday morning. The people came in so 
 
Destruction- of the Tea. 73 
 
 gi'eat crowds that the meeting had to adjourn 
 to the Old South meeting-house There were 
 five thousand persons present ; John Han- 
 cock, and Samuel Adams, and Dr. Warren, 
 and all the patriots were there. They re- 
 solved that the tea should not be landed. 
 Governor Hutchinson sent the sheriff to dis- 
 perse the meeting, but he was hissed out of 
 the house. Six persons were appointed post- 
 riders, to arouse the country people ; five 
 persons were chosen to talk with the gov- 
 ernor; and twenty-four sturdy young men were 
 named to stand on the wharves, — twelve by 
 day and twelve by night, — to ring the bells 
 and hoist the lanterns to call the people to- 
 gether, if the ship should begin to land her 
 cargo. 
 
 Meanwhile, the other two tea ships arrived. 
 There were now three, all laden with tea. 
 The six post-riders kept the country people 
 informed of this. These brave farmers were 
 ready to start for Boston in an instant ; it 
 
74 Stories of American- History. 
 
 looked like a figkt. "It is better to wait," 
 tlie selectmen said; "perhaps we can induce 
 the governor to send the ships back to Eng- 
 land." And so, from day to day they talked 
 and pleaded with him to order the ships 
 away. 
 
 Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday came ; 
 meetings were held every day ; hardly any 
 ordinary business was done in Boston. A 
 committee waited on the governor every 
 morning ; he would not yield. " The tea 
 shall be landed," he said. There were ships 
 of war in the harbor, and British troops in the 
 town, and he thought he could compel the 
 citizens. But he did not know them. They 
 were full of the spirit of liberty ; and, night 
 and day, neglecting everything not necessary 
 to be done, shutting up their shops, closing 
 the schools, stopping drays and wagons, carts 
 and barrows, from work in the streets, and 
 even closing the markets, these Boston citi- 
 zens did little during four days but stand 
 
Destruction of the Tea. 75 
 
 talking in groups at the corners, or liold meet- 
 ings on the Common. What they wanted 
 was, that Governor Hutchinson should send 
 the tea ships back to England. 
 
 It was now Thursday morning, December 
 16, 1773. Mr. Rotch had kept his promise 
 not to land the tea from the ships ; but the 
 people wanted more. Until the sails w^ere 
 spread and the three vessels were under- 
 way down the harbor, they w^ould not be 
 content ; he must see the governor and get a 
 pass for the clearance of his ships instantly. 
 The poor man was frightened ; he went to the 
 Government House, but the governor had 
 gone to Milton. Mounting his horse, he then 
 galloped out of town towards Milton, to find 
 the governor and obtain the pass. 
 
 At three in the afternoon a meeting 
 was held at the Old South. A great many 
 people had come in from the country, and 
 what with them and the citizens, the house 
 was full. While they were waiting the re- 
 
76 Stories of American History. 
 
 turn of Mr. Rotcli, speeches were made by 
 Adams, and Hancock, and Young. The 
 meeting cheered the speakers, and apphinded 
 the resohitions, and when the vote was taken 
 "Shall the tea be landed?" and every man 
 cried out " No! " there went up a hurrah that 
 shook the roof ; the people outside caught up 
 the cheer, and all along Washington Street, 
 and up School Street, and down Water Street 
 and Milk Street, the huzzahs filled the air. 
 
 But it was in December, and the days were 
 short. It was past five o'clock. Out of doors 
 the twilight was fading into night, and in the 
 meeting-house it was becoming dark. While 
 the people were growing impatient, and calls 
 were made for lights, and some cried one 
 thing and some another, Mr. Rotch arrived. 
 Samuel Adams stood up and said : "Order! 
 Mr. Rotch has come back from the governor ! 
 Hear what he has to say ! " All became quiet 
 and listened. The poor, tired man, stood up 
 and answered : " I cannot send back the tea ; 
 
DESTRUCTION OF TEA. Page 77. 
 
Destruction of the Tea. 77 
 
 the governor will not give tlie vessels a pass." 
 "This meeting, then," said Adams, "can do 
 no more to save the country " ; and the great 
 crowd of people in the meeting-house poured 
 out into the street. 
 
 On the instant a shout was heard from a 
 body of men, disguised as Indians, coming 
 along. Clad in blankets, with painted faces 
 and brandished tomahawks, crying the war- 
 whoop as they passed the door, they pro- 
 ceeded to the wharf. The people shouted 
 as they passed. ]N"umbers followed them. 
 Posting guards at the docks, obeying the 
 orders of their leader, committing no out- 
 rage upon persons or property, these 3^oung 
 patriots took possession of the three tea- 
 ships. At once pulleys and tackles were at 
 work hoisting the tea-chests out of the holds. 
 Men stood ready to handle them. As the 
 windlass hove up each chest, an axe broke 
 in its head, and its contents were poured 
 into the sea. No one disturbed the workers; 
 
78 Stories of American History. 
 
 the stars were shining brightly overhead ; 
 the work was plied far into the night ; and 
 when it was done, all separated withont 
 noise, and went home to bed. Next uiorn- 
 ina; there was not a chest of taxed tea in 
 Boston, on shipboard or on shore. Mr. 
 Kotch was sorry, and the governor angry ; 
 but the tea was safe in salt water, and the 
 people returned to their work. 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 79 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE BATTLE OF LEXINGTON. 
 
 Boston had become a city. Since the 
 Pilgrim Fathers landed at Plymouth, one 
 hundred and fifty-five years had gone. All 
 over Massachusetts, there were farms, with 
 houses and barns, orchards and gardens, 
 horses and wagons. The great forests had 
 been cut down. There were roads and 
 bridges. Pretty villages, with school-houses 
 and churches and shops, had grown up. The 
 Indians had disappeared. Bears and wolves 
 had been killed, or driven away. You might 
 go a hundred miles, north, south, or west, 
 and see everywhere, green fields, saw mills, 
 grist mills, sloops sailing on the rivers, great 
 herds of cattle, farmers at work ploughing 
 or harvesting, children playing in the yards, 
 carriages passing along the streets, and great 
 
8o Stories of American' History. 
 
 carts carrying crops to market. It was a 
 pleasant country, and a happy people. 
 
 But there was one trouble. England was 
 the Mother Country, and the people had a 
 quarrel with England. George the Third was 
 king, both of England and America, and he 
 wanted us to be governed by laws which he 
 made, and not laws which we ourselves made. 
 We refused. He was angry. And so his 
 parliament passed a law, which was called 
 the Boston Port Bill. By this law we might 
 not sail our ships, nor sell our corn, nor hold 
 our town-meetings, nor choose our rulers, and 
 he sent General Gage, and a large army, and 
 several ships of war, to Boston, to make us 
 obedient. All this was in 1774-5. 
 
 The Americans saw that there was to be 
 war, and they took care of their powder, 
 storing it in i30wder-liouses, in many j^laces. 
 General Gage heard that powder was stored 
 in Lexington and Concord, and he deter- 
 mined to get possession of it before the 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 8i 
 
 Americans knew what he meant to do. 
 And this was the reason of the battle of 
 Lexington. 
 
 It was a chilly night, on the 18th of April, 
 1775, when a great many soldiers, commanded 
 by Lieut. Col. Smith, marched out of Boston, 
 on their way to Lexington and Concord. They 
 made no noise. Drums did not beat, nor did 
 fifes play. The soldiers were not allowed to 
 speak aloud. When the officers gave their 
 commands, they did it quietly. Not a sound 
 was to be heard as the companies marched 
 along the road, except the noise of horses' 
 hoofs, and the tramp of footsteps on the hard 
 ground. Guns w^re already loaded, cartridge 
 boxes were full of powder and ball, haver- 
 sacks of bread and meat hung from the men's 
 shoulders, and canteens to drink from were 
 tied at their sides. The army moved as 
 quietly as the tide of the ocean ebbs and 
 flows, or as a river runs where there are no 
 rocks. Colonel Smith did not mean that 
 
82 Stories of American- History. 
 
 the Americans should know that the British 
 troops had come out of Boston. 
 
 But they discovered it, nevertheless. Dr. 
 Warren sent Paul Revere across Charles river, 
 and there a man lent him a horse. He 
 stopped at every house on the road, say- 
 ing, " The regulars are coming." Other men 
 started off to tell their neighbors. At mid- 
 night. Revere rode up to a farm-house, where 
 were Samuel Adams and John Hancock, two 
 IDatriot leaders, and asked leave to go in. A 
 sergeant, who guarded the door, said, "Do 
 not make a noise, for everybody is asleep !" 
 
 " Noise ! " answered Paul Revere ; "you will 
 have noise enough before long; the British 
 are coming." 
 
 The news now flew like the wind. Every 
 one was aroused. Guns were fired, drums 
 beat, and bells rang. Old men, middled-aged 
 men, and even boys, loaded their gu is and put 
 on their powder-horns and filled tUpir pockets 
 with bullets. Some on horseback and some 
 
THE EVE OF BATTLE. Page 82. 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 83 
 
 % ._ 
 
 on foot, they set out for Lexington. The road 
 was crowded. And while it was yet night, 
 long before the British troops reached the 
 town, Captain Parker formed his company on 
 the common before the Lexington meeting- 
 house. There were seventy of these farmer 
 soldiers in their farm clothes who had already 
 got together, and there were almost as many 
 looking on who had no guns. 
 
 It was about four o'clock in the morning, 
 and still dark, when Thad. Bowman came 
 furiously riding his horse up to the meeting- 
 house and crying out, " Here they come ! 
 Here are the British ! " Captain Parker now 
 ordered the drum-beat. Presently there came 
 in sight more than eight hundred soldiers, 
 marching along the road to meet our little 
 company of less than one hundred. The 
 British halted as soon as they came in sight. 
 The officers heard our drums, and thought it a 
 challenge. Captain Parker had ordered his 
 men not to fire first, but wait and see what 
 
84 Stories of American' History. 
 
 the regulars would do. While he was still 
 forming his company, the whole body of 
 British troops began to march again. As 
 they came on at double-quick, shouting and 
 firing, one of their officers rode forward and 
 cried out to our soldiers, " Ye villains ! Ye 
 rebels ! Disperse ! Lay down your arms ! 
 Why don 't you lay down your arms ? " and 
 then ordered his men to fire. There was a 
 general discharge. Several were killed, and 
 more were wounded. 
 
 Our men now dispersed. Before they were 
 out of reach, some of them fired their muskets 
 at the British. One man, whose name was 
 Jonas Parker, had often said he tooulcl never 
 run from the blasted regulars. And he kept 
 his word. Every one of his company had left 
 the common ; but he staid, firing away. At 
 length he was wounded, but even then would 
 not quit; until a soldier ran him through with 
 a bayonet. The cowardly regulars continued 
 firing, killing some in the roads, one running 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 85 
 
 for more powder, and another at the door of 
 his house, until eight were dead and ten 
 wounded, when, discharging a volley and 
 giving three cheers, they continued their 
 march towards Concord. 
 
 The British troops were in pursuit of the 
 powder and cannon at Concord. This the 
 Americans knew. As soon, therefore, as Dr. 
 Prescott, who had ridden hard from Boston, 
 rushed into the little village, calling out, 
 " The British are coming ! The British are 
 coming!" every man knew just what to do. 
 Oxen were yoked to carts, horses were har- 
 nessed to wagons, and men trundled wheel- 
 barrows, all trying to hide the powder-kegs 
 and the cannon in the woods. Bells rang in 
 the steeples. Alarm-guns were fired. Lan- 
 terns were hung in the belfries and on trees. 
 Couriers were sent in every direction. Be- 
 fore daylight several hundred minute-men 
 had come together in Concord, ready to fight. 
 
 When the regulars marched into town, 
 
86 Stories of American History. 
 
 therefore, the powder and cannon were nearly 
 all hidden away. They could do but little 
 harm. The long way from Boston had tired 
 them, and they stopped in two places to rest; 
 at the ]S"orth Bridge, and at the South Bridge. 
 Major John Buttrick took three hundred min-* 
 ute-men, and marched them, in double file, 
 with trailed arms, to the I^orth Bridge. These 
 men had never been in battle. They were 
 farmers and farmers' boys, without uniforms, 
 or martial music, or bayonets to their guns, 
 or mounted officers ; but they had courage, 
 and were ready, every man and boy, to fight 
 for freedom. When Captain Laurie, who 
 commanded the British troops at the ^NTorth 
 Bridge, saw these Provincials coming, he 
 marched his men to the other side of the 
 river, and drew them up in line of battle. 
 Our men hastened forward, and then the 
 British began to fire, killing and wounding 
 several Provincials. This made Major But- 
 trick angry, and he cried out, "Fire, men! 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 87 
 
 for God's sake, fire ! " when a volley was 
 poured upon the British which made them 
 run. But we did not pursue them, because 
 they retreated to their main body at the 
 South Bridge. 
 
 And now blood was up. British troops 
 had run from American ploughboys. The 
 bells kept ringing ; the news was spreading 
 far and near; everywhere, men were galloping 
 to tell the story; afoot and on horseback, 
 sturdy sharp-shooters were pouring into Con- 
 cord ; women were melting lead into bullets ; 
 the roads were filled with angry crowds, and 
 even the ministers were telling their people to 
 go and fight. There never had been such a 
 morning in Massachusetts. From Acton and 
 Lincoln and Carlisle and Chelmsford and 
 Westford and Littleton, the farmers, each 
 with his gun, kept hurrying in. It was a 
 glorious day for old Massachusetts, though 
 nobody knew what was going to come. 
 
 It was now noon. Colonel Smith saw what 
 
88 Stories of American History. 
 
 was happening, and began to be afraid. His 
 soldiers wanted rest, for they had been march- 
 ing fourteen hours, and were tired and hungry; 
 but he wished to get back to Boston before 
 the Americans hemmed them in, and he 
 therefore caused the music to play, and gave 
 orders to march. The companies formed, 
 arms were shouldered, captains marshalled 
 the ranks, and while the Provincials were 
 watching them from the top of the hill, with 
 drums beating, and fifes playing, and bugles 
 sounding, and banners flying, the British sol- 
 diers filed out of Concord on their way back 
 to Boston. 
 
 It was a terrible march. Fifteen miles in 
 a day is good work for an army when the 
 men are fresh. Twenty miles is hard work 
 when no enemy is near; but here, these British 
 soldiers, having had no sleep the night before, 
 tired with a march of eighteen miles out of 
 Boston, sleepy, thirsty, hungry, cross, and 
 lame, were now starting to go eighteen miles 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 89 
 
 back again, with thousands of minute-men 
 firing at them on every side. They would 
 never have got back to Boston, had not an- 
 other body of troops under the command of 
 Lord Percy, sent out from Boston by General 
 Gage, joined them when they got back as far 
 as Lexington. 
 
 This re-enforcement took with them several 
 wagon-loads of provisions when leaving Bos- 
 ton. These the Americans had captured on 
 the road. When the two bodies of soldiers 
 joined, therefore, .they were no better off. 
 They had, indeed, more men and more can- 
 non ; but for the tired and hungry soldiers, 
 who every now and then would fall to the 
 ground, there was nothing to eat or drink. 
 
 It was now two o'clock in the afternoon. 
 Twelve miles more they must march. As they 
 staggered along the winding road, the min- 
 ute-men kept picking them off. Behind every 
 tree and rock and stone-wall, an American 
 was concealed, and as the troops marched 
 
90 Stoj^ies of America at History. 
 
 along, rifles shot them down. Kunning 
 through the woods and along the fields, 
 these sharp-shooters kept up with the tired 
 army. Now, an officer tumbled from his 
 horse, shot by a bullet. Now, two or three 
 soldiers would fall in the road, wounded by 
 buckshot. Now, a volley would come from 
 behind a barn, and wherever there was a 
 short turn in the road a dozen guns were sure 
 to bring many poor fellows to the ground. It 
 did no good to wheel about and return the fire, 
 for nobody was to be seen. The minute-men 
 wxre hidden, and as soon as they had fired 
 they ran forward to another place of shelter, 
 loaded their gims, and when the British troops 
 came along fired again. 
 
 There was an old fellow, on a shambling 
 white horse, without saddle, and with a halter 
 for a bridle, who followed them a long way. 
 Wherever there was a turn in the road, or a 
 steep hill, or a bridge, galloping along he 
 would come, raise his musket and fire. An 
 
The Battle of Lexington. 91 
 
 officer was sure to fall. Then the old white 
 horse would wheel round, and be off at full 
 speed. It did no good to fire at him. He 
 was out of reach in a minute. Once the troops 
 were scrambling over some trees felled across 
 the road. Up came old grey, bang went the 
 gun, down fell an officer, and back again was 
 the man, quite out of reach. Again, the troops 
 were fording a stream and had got wet. Be- 
 fore the hindmost were quite through, down 
 the hill galloped the old mare, and another 
 officer was killed. The British soldiers named 
 the man " Old Dare-devil," but though they 
 aimed their pieces many times at both man 
 and horse, neither were ever hit. 
 
 Brave Dr. Warren was about everywhere. 
 He encouraged the minute-men, told them 
 what to do, bade them run ahead through 
 the woods, charged them to take good aim, 
 pointed out where they could get more pow- 
 der, said cheerful words to our wounded men, 
 and made even boys ashamed to be afraid. 
 
92 Stories of American History. 
 
 'His soul beat to arms. " They began it," he 
 said ; " that either could do : but we 'll end 
 
 IT, THAT ONLY ONE CAN DO." 
 
 It was niglit wlien the British got back 
 to Chaiiestown, and found boats ready to 
 take them across to Boston. They had 
 lost seventy-three killed, one hundred and 
 seventy-four wounded, and twenty-six miss- 
 ing. We lost forty-nine killed, thirty-nine 
 wounded, and five missing. Two hundred 
 and seventy-three to ninety-three. Not bad 
 for a beginning. It is called the battle of 
 Lexington. It was really the victory of the 
 minute-men. 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 It was on the nineteenth day of April that 
 the battle of Lexington occnrred. Over heavy 
 roads and under leafless trees, the minute-men 
 had chased the British troops back to Boston. 
 Since then the pleasant month of May, with 
 its green pastures and fresh flowers, had come 
 and gone, and June sunlight and showers 
 were making the plants flourish in the gar- 
 den, and corn-blades spring up in the fields. 
 Everything looked pleasant. Children, com- 
 ing home from school, played in the streets ; 
 farmers' boys drove the cows to pasture, and 
 took the grists to mill ; old men were weed- 
 ing the gardens, and girls and women mind- 
 ing housework ; bells rang for meeting on 
 Sundays,- and good people went to church to 
 worship God ; and to a stranger, all around 
 Boston seemed as it used to seem. 
 
94 Stories of American History. 
 
 But the Americans were angry. The Brit- 
 ish troops had shot down their brethren at 
 Lexington. Ships with more soldiers had 
 arrived in Boston. General Gage had an 
 army of ten thousand men. He was proud 
 and strong and boasting. Soldiers insulted 
 citizens. They called hard names, took away 
 arms, shut good men up in prison, stopped 
 peojDle from going to business, forbade being 
 out of doors at night, and made the condi- 
 tion of the inhabitants of Boston little better 
 than that of slaves. 
 
 The people in the country knew all this. 
 They saw that war must come. This beauti- 
 ful land, which was their home, belonged to 
 them. Boston was their capital, and British 
 troops had no business there. Patriots, like 
 John Hancock and Samuel Adams and Dr. 
 Warren and Josiah Quincy, formed them- 
 selves into a committee of vigilance, and 
 sent news to every town. In every place 
 meetings were held ; military companies were 
 
BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. Page 57. 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 95 
 
 formed; all the young men and strong men 
 left their work in the fields, and became sol- 
 diers ; and shortly the roads were filled with 
 military companies marching to Cambridge, 
 until there w^as an army there of eleven 
 thousand Americans, commanded by Gen- 
 eral Ward. 
 
 This American army had hemmed the Brit- 
 ish inside of Boston. No food could be car- 
 ried into the city. The regulars did not dare 
 come out. What they got to eat had to come 
 from England ; and then, to worry and trou- 
 ble them, the American army kept drawing 
 closer around the place, so as by and by to 
 fire their cannon into the streets and houses. 
 This was the reason why the Americans went 
 to Bunker Hill. It was nearer Boston. 
 
 On a starlight night, the sixteenth of 
 June, 1775, a large body of these farmer 
 soldiers marched from Cambridge towards 
 Charlestown. Colonel Prescott led them. 
 Two men with lanterns went before. Besides 
 
96 Stories of American History. 
 
 guns, the men carried shovels, crowbars, 
 axes and picks. There was no music. They 
 made no noise. Tramp, tramp, they moved 
 onwards, without a word or whisper, lest they 
 should be heard by the sentinels on the Brit- 
 ish ships, which were close by on the Charles 
 river. By and by they came to Bunker Dill. 
 Here they thrcAV off their packs, stacked their 
 guns, took shovels and picks, and went to 
 work to make intrenchments. 
 
 All the long night they labored, digging 
 the ground and throwing up the dirt. 
 Bunker Hill was only just across Charles 
 river, close by Boston. If the Americans 
 could hold it, they could fire cannon balls 
 into Boston and drive the British to their 
 ships. But the British cannon could also 
 fire back, and these intrenchments were to 
 protect the Americans. Before morning a 
 deep ditch had been dug, a long pile of earth 
 had been thrown up, and behind it stood 
 more than a thousand American soldiers. 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 97 
 
 They were all strong working men, and had 
 made a fort in a single night. 
 
 There were live British ships of war lying 
 in Charles river. The sentinels on board 
 never suspected what was going on. " All's 
 well," they drowsily cried out at every quarter 
 hour through the night. But when morning 
 began to come, and gray light was streaking 
 the eastern sky, a sailor, looking on shore, 
 spied the new fort on Bunker Hill. " What's 
 that ? " he cried. Other sailors looked and 
 they also cried out, " What's that ? " It Avas 
 on board the Lively that the sailors first de- 
 scried Bunker Hill fortified. Then the Falcon 
 saw it. Then the GlasgOAV, and the Cerberus, 
 and the Somerset. And shortly they began 
 to fire their great guns. 
 
 General Gage heard in Boston the reports 
 from the ships, and seeing through his spy- 
 glass the intrenchments on Bunker Hill, 
 ordered the great guns on Copp's Hill to 
 open fire also. The people in Boston Avere 
 
98 Stories of American- History. 
 
 awakened by the noise, and ran to the top 
 of Beacon Hill to see what was the matter. 
 On the roofs of the houses, in the belfries of 
 the churches, far up along the branches of 
 the tali trees, men and boys were looking 
 over to Charlestown. The news ran through 
 the streets. Everybody was hurrying to and 
 fro. No one went to his work. Shops were 
 not opened. Breakfasts were eaten hurriedly. 
 Half-dressed people rushed into the streets. 
 No children went to school; no women came 
 to market ; no girls walked arm and arm on 
 the sidewalks ; no boys played on the Com- 
 mon. It was a frightful day in Boston, this 
 Saturday, the seventeenth of June, 1775, 
 though the skies were blue above, and the 
 grass was green in the distant meadows. 
 
 Meanwhile the brave men on Bunker Hill 
 kept at work. They shovelled up the earth, 
 making the fort higher and longer. They 
 built platforms to stand upon ; they took 
 rails and made fences, stuffing grass into 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 
 
 99 
 
 them ; and tlioiigli the cannon-balls were 
 flying around them they did not stop work 
 for a minute. 
 
 This alarmed General Gage. He had 
 thought the Americans would run. For 
 three hours he stood looking through his 
 spy-glass. The huge cannon-balls flew 
 through the air ; they went right into the 
 fort ; the dirt and dust were scattered when 
 they fell; but the Americans stuck to their 
 place. There was nothing to be done then 
 but send British troops across the river. 
 
 And now began the great day for America. 
 The British regiments were marshalled on the 
 Common. It was just noon. General Howe 
 had the command. They were three thou- 
 sand strong. In scarlet uniforms, with glis- 
 tening guns and waving banners and beating- 
 drums, they embarked on a hundred boats 
 and were ferried over to Charlestown. The 
 ships of war were still firing on the fort. 
 From Copp's Hill the great guns were going 
 
lOo Stories of American History. 
 
 oif. Smoke clouded the sky, booms of can- 
 non filled the ah', tramp of armed m^ was 
 heard on every side, orders of officers rang 
 shrill over the Avaters, and the bugles of 
 the grenadiers aroused the courage of the 
 soldiers. And when the boats landed at 
 Charlestown and the British troops were 
 drawn up in line of battle, there stood twelve 
 hundred tired laborers on the hill to resist 
 three thousand fresh soldiers on the wharf^ 
 when the two should come together. 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. ioi 
 
 CHAPTER Xir. 
 
 BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 
 
 It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and very warm. General Howe had sent 
 over to Boston for more soldiers. When he 
 saw them coming in the boats it was three 
 o'clock. Two columns were formed at once 
 to march up the hill, — General Howe com- 
 manding one, and General Pigot commanding 
 the other. The bugles sounded, the drums 
 beat, the ships in Charles River kept firing 
 on the Americans, and both columns began 
 their march. 
 
 The Americans were tired, for they had 
 been digging at their intrenchments many 
 hours, and were thirsty and hungiy. But 
 when they saw the British troops marching 
 towards them in scarlet uniforms and with 
 burnished guns, they laid aside shovels and 
 
I02 Stories of American History. 
 
 picks, and took up tlieir muskets to make 
 ready. On came the redcoats, firing as they 
 mounted the hilL The Americans did not 
 return the fire. " Wait till they get near ! " 
 said Colonel Prescott. "Don't fire till I give 
 the order ! Then fire low ! Aim at the waist- 
 bands ! Pick off the officers ! " 
 
 General Putnam also went along through 
 the American ranks. " Powder is scarce, 
 boys," he said, " and you must not waste it. 
 Don't fire till you can see the whites of their 
 eyes ! Wait for orders ! " 
 
 General Pomeroy, too, came to help them. 
 He w^as an old man, but he had his gun in 
 his hand and was all ready for the fight. 
 "Don't be in a hurry, my good fellows," he 
 said. " Fire low ! Aim at the handsome 
 coats ! Wait for orders ! " 
 
 Nearer and nearer came the great columns 
 of British troops, marching to their music, 
 and firing as they approached. The Ameri- 
 cans stood firm. Two or three fired, but 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 103 
 
 Prescott ran along on the embankment, and 
 kicked up their guns. General Warren, too, 
 who had just arrived, went along the Ameri- 
 can lines and said, " Wait, my good fellows, 
 wait ; don't fire yet ! " The most of them did 
 wait. With guns loaded and cocked, stand- 
 ing shoulder to shoulder behind the intrench- 
 ment and rail fences, ready to take aim in an 
 instant, with cool heads and brave hearts, 
 these farmers and their boys w^ho had never 
 seen a battle in their lives, stood still and 
 watched the i)roud coming of the foe. Nearer 
 and nearer the enemy came. Their voices 
 could be heard, their glittering uniforms 
 flashed back the sunlight, and their tramj) 
 was almost on the top of the hill, when 
 Prescott gave the order to fire. A thousand 
 bullets w^ere poured into the British columns 
 in an instant. Hundreds of ofiicers and 
 soldiers fell to the ground. The execution 
 was terrible. Everywhere lay the dead and 
 wounded. For a moment the British troops 
 
I04 Stories of American History. 
 
 stopped. But the Americans kept loading 
 and firing, picking off officers here and sol- 
 diers there, until, disconcerted and broken, 
 the redcoats, who a few moments before 
 were certain of victory, fled in dismay to 
 the bottom of the hill. 
 
 The Americans were elated. They had 
 beaten British soldiers. Hundreds of English 
 officers and men lay wounded and dead in 
 the tall grass on the hill-side. The columns 
 of the regulars had broken, and fled down 
 to the river. The Americans counted it a 
 victory. Shouts went up from the intrench- 
 ments, men clapped each others' shoulders, 
 and but for Prescott, Pomeroy, Putnam, and 
 Warren, the American soldiers would have 
 leaped over the intrench ments and pursued 
 the British down the hill. 
 
 Before the second attack. General Putnam 
 rode back towards Cambridge, and urged 
 fresh American troops to hasten to the hill. 
 Some obeyed ; others were afraid, and staid 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 105 
 
 behind. It was curious that those who 
 were in the fight, though tired and hungry 
 and thirsty, were not as much frightened 
 as those who had been in no danger. Their 
 blood was up, — the blood of these brave 
 fellows who had shot down the boasting 
 regulars, — and when men's blood is up, as 
 every boy knows, there is no more fear. 
 
 Meantime the Americans waited. They 
 had loaded their guns again. The British 
 had set Charlestown on fire. The houses were 
 burning, and while smoke filled the air, and 
 cannon were firing from the ships, and the 
 Copp's Hill artillery was playing, and thou- 
 sands of people were watching from Boston 
 houses and trees and steeples, the drums 
 began again to beat, and, at the music of 
 bugles and fifes, British troops started a sec- 
 ond time on their march to drive the Ameri- 
 cans oif the hill. Onwards they came, step- 
 ping over the dead and wounded, pushing 
 through the high grass, scrambling over the 
 
io6 Stories of American History. 
 
 fences, alid firing and shouting as they 
 climbed the hill. Their bullets wounded a 
 few Americans only ; and their noise made 
 no one afraid. Encouraged by their officers, 
 and expecting this time surely to drive the 
 farmer-soldiers out of the intrenchments, the 
 redcoats marched steadily forward ; but it 
 was into the jaws of death. This time not 
 an American threw away a ball. Every man 
 had his gun resting on the fort, and was 
 taking aim. They were perfectly still, waiting 
 for the word. It was but a minute. The 
 British seemed almost upon them, when the 
 loud voice of Colonel Prescott was heard all 
 along the line, giving the word. Fire ! At 
 once every musket was discharged. Scores of 
 officers, and hundreds of soldiers, fell dead 
 and wounded on the field. It was terrible. 
 The British columns were staggered ; and 
 then, as volleys of musketry continued to 
 thin their ranks, the men again broke and ran 
 down the hill. A great shout now arose from 
 
BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. Page 106. 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 107 
 
 the fort. " Hurrah, hurrah^ " the Americans 
 
 cried. " See the redcoats run ! " " See the 
 
 ROGUES RUN ! " 
 
 It was now five in the afternoon. Only a 
 few re-enforcements had come. The men were 
 tired after working all night and fighting 
 many hours. Their powder was almost gone; 
 but still they stood to their posts, and though 
 they saw more soldiers coming over in boats 
 from Boston, and the British prei)aring to at- 
 tack them again, they did not flinch. Never 
 were braver men. General Warren encour- 
 aged them. The little powder that was left 
 was given in small parcels to each man. All 
 the guns were loaded again, and as they saw 
 the British columns, urged on by officers, 
 again coming up the hill, they waited as 
 before for the word. This third time many 
 British were killed and wounded. If they 
 had had powder enough, the Americans would 
 have won the day ; but it was gone. Colonel 
 Prescott, therefore, gave the order to retreat. 
 
io8 Stoe/es of American History. 
 
 So full of courage were our boys that some 
 were not willing to go. They hurled stones, 
 they clubbed their muskets, they wrestled 
 hand to hand with the British soldiers who 
 had climbed over the redoubt. One redcoat, 
 as he mounted to the top, cried out, " The 
 day is ours," when an American soldier shot 
 him dead. 
 
 But a thousand soldiers without powder 
 and ball cannot resist two thousand who 
 have enough of both. The Americans re- 
 treated ; they did not run ; to the last they 
 fought. Colonel Prescott warded off the Brit- 
 ish bayonets with his sword, as he marched 
 off behind his men. General Warren lin- 
 gered behind, unwilling to be driven, and 
 was killed. He was a great and good man. 
 General Pomeroy backed off the field, fight- 
 in<i: with breech of his musket, and crvino* 
 out, "Don't run, boys! Go slow! It shan't 
 be said that Seth Pomeroy was ever shot in 
 the back." General Putnam, regardless of 
 
The Battle of Bunker Hill. 109 
 
 the balls flying around him, was not willing 
 to retreat. "Make a stand here," he ex- 
 claimed ; "we can stop them yet."' 
 
 But the battle was over. The king's troops 
 had conquered. It was, however, a costly vic- 
 tory. More than fifteen hundred soldiers and 
 officers had been killed and wounded. The 
 Americans lost only three hundred and fifty. 
 But the great thing was this. The British 
 had never believed that Americans would 
 fight. They had laughed at them. It was 
 absurd to believe that farmers' boys would 
 stand fire. "As soon as they see the red- 
 coats, they will run," the English officers 
 said. Bunker Hill changed all that. The 
 farmers did not run. They stood to their 
 posts. There were no better marksmen. 
 Twice the British troops fled from their fire. 
 To be sure, the Americans lost the battle ; 
 but they gained courage, and in the end 
 they won independence. 
 
no Stories of American- History. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 It is almost a century and a half since 
 Washington was born. It is more than 
 seventy years since he died ; and yet his 
 name still stands lirst of all Americans. He 
 was the greatest of good men, and the best 
 of great men. 
 
 His birthday was February 22d, 1732 ; it 
 is celebrated every year. On all public 
 buildings flags are hoisted, and from every 
 fort and ship of war cannon are lired. 
 
 George Washington grew up an obedient 
 boy. His father died when George was ten 
 years old ; his mother, whom he loved and 
 honored, educated him for a land surveyor. 
 When he was a fine grown boy of sixteen, 
 she sent him into the forest to measure land. 
 He had to climb mountains and wade 
 
Trie EARLY LIFE OF WASHINGTON. Page IIL 
 
George Washington. hi 
 
 streams ; he slept on the ground ; often he 
 had only a loaf of dry bread for food; and he 
 was frequently in danger from hostile Indians 
 and savage settlers. This^ made him strong 
 and brave. For three years he passed all his 
 summers in the backwoods, so that when he 
 was nineteen his height was six feet and two 
 inches, and his weight one hundred and sixty 
 pounds ; and he could run a swifter race, man- 
 age a more vicious horse, and endure more 
 hardships, than any young man in Virginia. 
 
 At the age of twenty he was created a 
 major, and was sent six hundred miles to 
 carry a letter from Governor Dinwiddle to 
 the post of the French commandant. It was 
 a terrible journey ; the weather was cold, the 
 rivers frozen, the ground covered with snow, 
 the paths blind, and the Indians hostile ; but 
 he delivered the letter and got safely back, 
 though betrayed by his guide, and near 
 drowning in the Alleghany river, which he 
 was crossing on a raft made by a hatchet. 
 
112 Stoav£s of American' History. 
 
 When the Indian war came he Avas only 
 twenty-two, and yet the governor made him 
 lieutenant-colonel of a regiment and sent 
 him into the lield. lie penetrated {\\i:^, Avil- 
 derness many hundred miles, erected a fort, 
 had several engagements with the French 
 and Inclip^ns, and though obliged to surren- 
 der to superior force, came off at last with 
 honor. 
 
 At Braddock's defeat he was only twenty- 
 three years old, and a year afterwards was 
 made commander-in-chief of all the forces of 
 Virginia, lie was wise as well as courageous. 
 His men loved and respected him. He was 
 not only the tirmest rider, and truest shot, 
 and hardiest soldier in the armv, but he was 
 cool and temperate and decided ; he had 
 self-reliance ; he did his duty. Idleness, that 
 makes of a man a milksop, he never knew. 
 It was hard work which made George Wash- 
 ington a man. 
 
 Let us pass over twenty years. The young 
 
George Wash/ngtoat. i i 3 
 
 man was now in middle life. He was mar- 
 ried, and lived at Mt. Yernon. To look after 
 his [)lantation he liked better than war; but 
 when war began between the colonies and 
 Great Britain, and the people asked him to 
 take command of the American army, he did 
 not hesitate. " I do not think myself capable 
 of the great charge," he said ; " but I will do 
 my best." He did not return to Mt. Vernon, 
 but started from Philadelphia on horseback 
 immediately for Cambridge. 
 
 Ilere General Washington found a small 
 army indeed, — but Avhat an army ! Yery 
 few of the soldiers had been trained to arms. 
 They were farmers and mechanics. There 
 were but few cannon, scarcely any tents, and 
 powder enough only to last a few days. 
 Many were sick. Of clothing there was no 
 sui)i)ly. Some of the troops were discour- 
 aged, and wanted to go home. There were 
 only 11,000 men in the American army, 
 while across the river in Boston were 11,000 
 
114 Stories of American- History. 
 
 veteran British troops well appointed and 
 well disciplined. But Gen. Washington was 
 not disheartened. As he rode with his staff, 
 through crowds of people and in presence of 
 the army, under the old elm that still stands 
 in Cambridge, he wheeled his horse, and drew 
 his sword as commander-in-chief of the army. 
 
 It was so all through the war, which lasted 
 seven years. His temper was often tried. 
 Want of men and money, want of food and 
 clothing, he was hardly ever free from. His 
 troops were often beaten in battle. One 
 winter, Avhen in quarters, there was no cloth- 
 ing, and they had to go barefoot through 
 the snow. But the great commander bore 
 up bravely through it all, and in 1783 he saw 
 the war brought to a close under his own 
 command. 
 
 Washington now retired to Mount Yernon. 
 He was fifty years old. Never was man 
 more glad to get back to his home. Here, 
 passing his days in directing work upon his 
 
George Washington. 115 
 
 plantation, and his evenings in the midst of 
 his family, " he was," he said, " like a tired 
 traveller, resting after his journey." They 
 were the happiest six years of his life. But 
 they were not to last. He was too good and 
 too great to live as a private citizen. He 
 belonged to the world. 
 
 Though very reluctant to quit his beautiful 
 home, the people would have it so. He must 
 be president of the United States. When he 
 started in his carriage to go to New York, 
 where he was to take the oath of office, his 
 old neighbors and friends gave him a dinner 
 at Alexandria. From there, as he proceeded 
 northward through Maryland and Delaware 
 and Pennsylvania and New Jersey, every- 
 where the people tried to do him honor. 
 There were cavalry to escort him into every 
 town, and arches to welcome him in every 
 village ; cannon announced his approach, 
 and flags greeted his arrival. The old and 
 young, women and children, thronged the 
 
ii6 Stories of American History. 
 
 highway to welcome him. At Trenton, on 
 the bridge, beneath which the broad river 
 flowed placidly along, the ladies had erected 
 a beautiful arch of flowers, and as Washing- 
 ton rode under it, girls, dressed in white, 
 strewed the ground with garlands of roses. 
 At Elizabethtown he embarked on board a 
 splendid barge, manned by thirteen masters 
 of vessels, in white uniforms, and with other 
 barges following, the ships gaily decked with 
 flags, the men-of-war manned to the mast- 
 head, and bands playing and salutes firing, 
 swept up the broad bay to New York. 
 
 For eight years Washington was president 
 of the United States. He had been great as 
 a soldier, he was equally great as a states- 
 man. His two chief qualities were integrity 
 and firmness. He knew what was right and 
 did it. At the age of sixty-four he returned 
 for the last time to Mount Yernon. 
 
 Here he lived for something more than 
 two years, — a fine, large old gentleman, who, 
 
George Washington. i i 7 
 
 whether on horseback riding over his farm, 
 or sitting in his arm-chair at the fireside, or 
 walking up and down the piazza, was a man 
 once seen ever to be remembered. 
 
 He died suddenly at the age of sixty-seven. 
 The whole nation wept over his remains, and 
 the world mourned his loss. He has ever 
 since been called The Father of his Country. 
 
ii8 Stoi?ies of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER XIY. 
 
 THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 
 
 There had been war between the colonies 
 and England for more than a year. The 
 battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill had 
 occurred more than twelve months before. 
 Washington had long been commander-in- 
 chief. The British army had been driven out 
 of Boston, an American army occupied Kew 
 York, the governors of the colonies nobody 
 thought of obeying, and yet we had never 
 declared ourselves an independent nation. 
 
 But the time for this had come. The king 
 of England had failed to conquer us this 
 first year, but he meant to do it during the 
 second. He therefore raised a larger army 
 and equipped a greater fleet. Our patriots, 
 he said, he would hang. If we did not sub- 
 mit, he threatened to burn our towns, and 
 
The Declara tion of Independence, i i 9 
 
 destroy our ships, and break down our 
 bridges, and lay waste our fields. He sent 
 to Germany and liired Hessian soldiers to 
 figlit against us. The Indians he tried to 
 stir up to make war upon our people, and 
 he issued a proclamation that he would 
 never forgive the colonists, unless they 
 laid down their arms. 
 
 While Washington was preparing his little 
 army for this great contest, a Congress assem- 
 bled in Philadelphia. It was composed of 
 wise men from each of the thirteen colonies. 
 New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Isl- 
 and, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, 
 Pennsylvania, Maryland, Delaware, Virginia, 
 North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, 
 all sent delegates. Old men and young men, 
 lawyers and planters and ministers, all good 
 patriots, were in this Congress. They came 
 together to see what was best to be done. 
 Should the colonies submit to England ? 
 They answered, No! Should they try to make 
 
I20 Stoeies of American History. 
 
 peace, and let England send us governors 
 again to oppress us ? With one voice they 
 all answered, No ! Should the colonies de- 
 clare themselves independent of England ? 
 This was the great question. 
 
 The members of Congress debated this 
 many days. Some thought we had better 
 wait, and see whether the king would not be 
 of better mind. Others said it was of no use, 
 for George the Third was a tyrant. There 
 were many opinions. Shortly, Richard Henry 
 Lee, a delegate from Virginia, rose up and 
 made a famous speech. He was a good and 
 great man. Every one listened to what he 
 said. And when he moved that we declare our- 
 selves a free and independent people, all the 
 delegates in Congress arose and said. Yes. 
 
 John Hancock, a Boston merchant, was 
 president of the Congress. Benjamin Frank- 
 lin, Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Roger 
 Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston, were 
 chosen a committee to prepare a Declaration 
 
The Declaration of Independence. 121 
 
 of Independence. And on the second of 
 July, 1776, they stood up before the Con- 
 gress, and what they had prepared was read 
 aloud. There was dead silence. Every one 
 listened. Not a word was spoken. As the 
 solemn words came from the reader, recount- 
 ing the king's tyranny and our people's suf- 
 ferings, faces flushed, and hearts throbbed, 
 and sighs were drawn, and eyes dropped 
 tears. The battle of Lexington, when plough- 
 boys drove the British troops back to Boston, 
 was a great event ; and the battle of Bunker 
 Hill, when the flower of the English army 
 fell before the deadly fire of raw Yankee 
 volunteers, was a great event ; and the aban- 
 donment of Boston by General Gage, when 
 General Washington marched his army, with 
 banners flying, and drums beating, and bugles 
 playing, across Charles river, was a great 
 event ; but not Lexington, nor Bunker Hill, 
 nor Boston's evacuation, was an event as great 
 as this. The Declaration of Independence, on 
 
122 Stories of American History. 
 
 the fourth of July, 1776, was the greatest 
 event that ever occurred in American his- 
 tory. We celebrate it with ringing of bells, 
 and firing guns, and grand j)rocessions, and 
 public speeches, every year. And well we 
 may, for the Declaration of Independence 
 made America. 
 
 When the Declaration of Independence had 
 been agreed upon by Congress, it was sent 
 to the people of all the thirteen colonies. 
 Everywhere it was received with rejoicings. 
 The citizens of Philadelphia heard it read 
 first. It was on the fourth of Julv, 1776. 
 There was an immense crowd of people. The 
 bells of the churches rang, cannon were fired, 
 and as the brave words fell upon the ears 
 of the assembled people, shouts of gladness 
 went up to the skies. 
 
 It was the same in New York. Everybody 
 was glad. We were British subjects no lon- 
 ger. Now, for the first time, we were Ameri- 
 cans. And so, from the Battery, all up the 
 
The Declaration of Independence. 123 
 
 Hudson river, martial music, and bugle sa- 
 lutes, and discharges of artillery filled the 
 air. The joy of the people could not be re- 
 strained. They raised flagstaff s, and burned 
 fireworks, and tore down the statue of King 
 George and hauled it through the streets. 
 
 The news spread. Couriers carried it to 
 Kichmond. Horsemen sped it to Charles- 
 ton. In every town and village it caused 
 the greatest joy. Men shouted Independence 
 through the streets. Flags inscribed Inde- 
 pendence floated from the liberty-poles. Boys 
 wore badges with Independence on their hats. 
 Everywhere there was music and bell-ringing 
 and the noise of cannon. 
 
 In Boston, the citizens held a great meet- 
 ing in front of the old State House. The 
 military in their uniforms were there, and the 
 judges, and the city ofiicers, and the coun- 
 try gentlemen on horseback, and boys and 
 girls from the schools, and stevedores from 
 the docks, and car men with their teams, and 
 
124 Stories of American History. 
 
 mercliants, and lawyers, and ministers, — all 
 listening to the Declaration of Independence. 
 They were quiet till the reading was nearly 
 ended. But when the words, Free and In- 
 dependent .States fell upon the ears of the 
 crowd, their enthusiasm could be restrained 
 no longer. Cheer after cheer was given. The 
 reader's voice could be no longer heard. The 
 cannon began to roar, the bells pealed out 
 their joyful notes, the bands struck up mar- 
 tial music, and all the town was in a blaze 
 of excitement. Boston boys I'emembered the 
 redcoats, and shouted Independence with a 
 will. 
 
Surrender of Burgoyne. " 125 
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 
 
 When the war had lasted two years and 
 more, and it began to be seen in England 
 that it was not an easy thing to conquer this 
 country, a plan was devised that George III 
 thought was sure to be successful. It was 
 this : A great army of British and Hessian 
 troops was to be sent over to Canada, to 
 march down the banks of the Hudson River. 
 General Howe who had command at New 
 York, was to march his men and send his 
 ships up the Hudson. The two armies ex- 
 pected to meet at Albany. They would be 
 strong enough to beat any American army, 
 'and then all New England and part of New 
 York Avould be cut off from the other States, 
 and could be conquered at leisure. 
 
 England then sent to Germany and paid a 
 
126 ■ Stories of American History. 
 
 large sum of money to the king of Hanover 
 for a Hessian army. To this was added a 
 British army. And when numbers of ships 
 had brought these armies to Canada, they 
 were joined by a great many Indian warriors. 
 It made altogether a splendid show, and the 
 chief in command of this great force was one 
 of the finest British officers. General Bur- 
 goyne. They all made sm^e of victory. - 
 
 It was a brave sight the day these forces 
 left Montreal. There were thousands of sol- 
 diers in scarlet coats and with muskets glis- 
 tening in the sunshine, marching through the 
 streets. There were the red-tipped plumes 
 of sergeants and ensigns, and the flashing 
 swords of lieutenants and captains, and the 
 long trains of artillery, and the dashing 
 cavalry, and the w^ild Indians with painted 
 faces, brandishing their tomahawks and' 
 sounding their war-whoop. And then, there 
 was the general on a black charger, and the 
 Hessian and British field-officers gay in their 
 
Surrender of Burgoyne. 127 
 
 cocked hats and burnished epaulettes, and 
 the staff-officers on prancing steeds, and the 
 long train of wagons for carrying tents and 
 luggage and provisions. There were car- 
 riages for the officers' wives, and ponies for 
 their children, and wagons for servants, and 
 saddle-horses for ladies to ride, and furniture 
 for tents. It was more like an oriental cara- 
 van than a backwoods army. 
 
 The Americans heard of these splendid 
 preparations with alarm. Washington spared 
 all the men he could from his army in New 
 Jersey, and sent them to General Gates, to 
 whom he gave command of the northern 
 army. Gates sent circular letters to all the 
 New England States, urging the peoiile to 
 come and help him ; and they did. Mili- 
 tary companies were formed in almost every 
 town. Farmers left their hoeing and har- 
 vesting, and carpenters their building, and 
 blacksmiths their shoeing, to enlist. Minis- 
 ters prepared to go with their people ; doc- 
 
128 Stories of American History. 
 
 tors left their patients ; and even boys of four- 
 teen years cleaned up their guns, and were 
 ready. There had never before been such a 
 stir in New England. Down with Burgoyne ! 
 Down ivith Burgoyne ! was the universal cry. 
 As for Burgoyne's great army, it had hardly 
 got into the forest before troubles began. 
 The Indians would not obey. They mur- 
 dered and scalped women and children, they 
 stole all they could find, and they would not 
 go off to fight when ordered. The general 
 finally had to send them home. Then there 
 were shipwrecks on Lake George, and bad 
 roads through the woods. Food was scarce. 
 Many were sick. They were beaten in some 
 small battles. Luggage was lost on the way. 
 The ladies were tired and worn out. And by 
 the time the splendid army, that only four 
 months before marched so gaily out of Mon- 
 treal, had got to Saratoga, it had dwindled 
 down to be a very different body. The men 
 were half-starved and the horses gaunt. Ev- 
 
SuRJiENDER OF BuRGOYNE. 1 29 
 
 ery officer was finding fault with every other. 
 Many of the cannon had stuck in swamps 
 and were left behind. So that, what with 
 little powder, and short food, and discon- 
 tented soldiers, and dying horses, the pluck 
 of the army was all gone. 
 
 There was a worse trouble still. General 
 Howe's army did not come up from New 
 York city. General Burgoyne wrote urgent 
 letters and sent constant messages. They 
 did no good. No army came to join him. 
 
 They were now at Saratoga, this poor, dis- 
 couraged army. All around them were the 
 American forces. From a small detachment, 
 the soldiers under General Gates had grown 
 to be a great body. Like the rivulets that 
 fill the mill-pond, or the boys who make a 
 school, these ploughboys and mechanics had 
 been marching for weeks from many places 
 to join General Gates, and all together they 
 made a great army. All aloiig the hill-tops 
 and mountains, = — covering valleys, and fields 
 
130 Stories of American History. 
 
 of corn, — at every crossroad and stream, the 
 British saw only American soldiers. It was 
 evident that they had fallen into a trap. The 
 Americans had surrounded them. 
 
 There is nothing that takes the heart out 
 of man or woman like hunger. The English 
 army were all hungry. Shut in on every side, 
 they were not able to buy or forage provi- 
 sions. It was of little use to light. Well-fed 
 men are always more than a match for starv- 
 ing men. And the Americans were well fed. 
 Besides, they had more men than the British 
 by nearly two to one. They were lighting for 
 their liberties too, and this made them brave. 
 
 There was nothing now for Burgoyne to 
 do but fight or surrender. Twice he gave 
 the Americans battle. Both times the Brit- 
 ish, were beaten, and lost many in killed, 
 wounded, and prisoners. The Americans 
 took many pieces of cannon also. There 
 was nothing left for the British general to 
 do, therefore, but to surrender. He sent 
 
Surrender of Burgoyne. 131 
 
 a flag of truce to General Gates to ask his 
 terms. General Gates replied, "You must 
 marcli your army in front of mine, your 
 soldiers must all stack their arms, and you 
 must every one of you be prisoners of war." 
 To this General Burgoyne consented. And 
 one pleasant October day, when the Ameri- 
 can army had been drawn up in long lines, 
 every soldier shouldering his firelock, the 
 officers with drawn swords, and the field- 
 commanders and their staffs on horseback 
 in front, the great army of British and Hes- 
 sians marched out on the broad plain and 
 laid down their arms. 
 
 It was a great victory. The people in 
 England were downcast when they heard 
 that the grand army of General Burgoyne 
 had surrendered ; and many said, " "\Ye can 
 never conquer those Americans." But it 
 gave great joy to the New-England people, 
 and to the inhabitants of Xew York, and 
 for many years afterwards men would boast 
 that they " helped to take Burgoyne." 
 
132 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER XYI. 
 
 ARNOLD AND ANDr6. 
 
 I AM about to tell you of a good man and 
 a bad man, — of liow the good man was 
 hung, and the bad man escaped ; and hoAV 
 now, after nearly one hundred years, the 
 one is remembered in song and story, with 
 flowers spread over his grave, and children 
 weeping as they hear his fate, and the other 
 cursed whenever his name is spoken. 
 
 Benedict Arnold was the name of the bad 
 man. He was an American. John Andre' 
 was the name of the good man. He was an 
 Englishman. 
 
 General Arnold had been in the American 
 army for three years. He was a dashing 
 oflicer, strong and fearless. Good service he 
 had done in many battles. For his gallan- 
 try he had been promoted from captain to 
 
Arnold and Andr£. 133 
 
 colonel, and from colonel to general. His 
 disposition was, indeed, quarrelsome, and his 
 conduct often liarsli ; but lie was generally 
 believed to be patriotic, and he possessed 
 the confidence of General Washington. 
 
 In one of the battles with Burgoyne's army, 
 his horse was shot under him, and he was 
 wounded in the leg. T\lien his wound was 
 healed, Washington made him military com- 
 mander of Philadelphia, and it was here that 
 he began to think of treachery to his coun- 
 try. He was extravagant and proud. It was 
 money he wanted. By betraying his trust, 
 he could get money. He therefore made 
 up his mind to do it. And this was his 
 plan. 
 
 At West Point, on Hudson river, was an 
 American fort. If he could get General 
 Washington to give him command there, he 
 could surrender the place to the British, for 
 which they would give him money, and make 
 him an officer in their army. It was a very 
 
134 Stories of American History. 
 
 simple plan, but very mean and wicked. Let 
 us see how he succeeded. 
 
 Though his wound had healed, he pre- 
 tended that his leg was not yet strong 
 enough to take a command in the field, and 
 he petitioned General Washington to make 
 him chief ofiicer of West Point. The gen- 
 eral thought it strange that so active a man 
 should want so quiet a position. He gave 
 it to him, however, for he believed Arnold 
 to be a patriot. 
 
 No sooner was General Arnold made com- 
 mander of West Point, than he began to 
 carry out his wicked plan. He wrote letters 
 to Sir Henry Clinton, who commanded the 
 British forces in N'ew York. Without sign- 
 ing his name to these letters, he nevertheless 
 told so much about the fort and its soldiers, 
 that General Clinton knew the writer must 
 be an American officer, and he answered 
 them. Other letters followed. Flags of truce 
 kept coming and going. No one suspected 
 
Ara'old and Andr£.. 135 
 
 wrong. Arnold went on telling more and 
 more. Clinton grew anxious to know who 
 he was. If the writer were really commander 
 of West Point, and would betray the place, it 
 would be fair in war to take it. It is not the 
 gainer by the treachery who is wrong, but 
 the traitor. 
 
 After a time, General Clinton sent an offi- 
 cer to meet the writer of the letters and close 
 the bargain. This officer was John Andre', 
 adjutant-general of the British army. He 
 was a brave and good man. There was not 
 a finer officer on General Clinton's staff. 
 Young, handsome, accomplished, truthful, 
 and kind-hearted, everybody loved him. It 
 was not his own business that Andre' went 
 upon. His commander sent him, and every 
 man in an army must obey orders. 
 
 Major Andre' went up the Hudson river in 
 the Vulture, a British ship of war. He ex- 
 pected Arnold to come on board when she 
 was near West Point. For a night and day 
 
136 Stories of American History. 
 
 . , . 
 
 he waited. Arnold was afraid, and did not 
 come. But on the second night he sent a 
 flag of truce for Andre' to meet him on shore. 
 Andre' went, met Arnold, talked with him 
 many hours, took plans of West Point, and 
 agreed how it might be surrendered. When 
 the time arrived for Andre' to go back to the 
 Vulture, the boatmen would not take him. 
 Not that they knew who he was, but they 
 were afraid that the ship would fire upon 
 them. So he changed his military dress, 
 hung his cloak over his shoulders, put Ar- 
 nold's papers at the bottom of his stocking, 
 took a pass from Arnold, and set out on 
 horseback to go back to New York. 
 
 It was a ride full of dangers. There w^ere 
 many miles to travel. As he passed every 
 picket, his pass had to be shown. " Stop ! " 
 a guard would say, "Who goes there?" "A 
 friend," Andre' would reply. " Show your 
 pass ! " the soldier would add. Then Andre' 
 would exhibit General Arnold's jDass, which 
 
Arnold and Andr£. 137 
 
 beii;g read, the guard would present arms and 
 say, " Go on ! " So, full of fears, but with a 
 brave heart, Andre' passed one picket after 
 another until he had almost reached the 
 British lines, where he would be safe. 
 
 As he was riding on, happy in his good 
 luck, and thinking of home, three men sprang 
 out of the woods and seized his horse's bridle, 
 saying " Stop ! " Andre' thought they were 
 friends, and replied that he was a British 
 officer. It was a great mistake. The men 
 were Americans. They made him dismount, 
 searched him, found his papers in his stock- 
 ing-feet, and kept him prisoner. He offered 
 them his gold watch, his purse and his horse, 
 if they would let him go. It did no good. 
 They thought he was a spy, and conducted 
 him to the nearest American post. 
 
 And now the news began to spread that a 
 British officer had been taken as a spy. 
 General Washington heard of it, for he was 
 then near by. He determined to seize Ar- 
 
138 Stohies of American Histoid v. 
 
 nold, whom he knew by the papers to be a 
 traitor. But the latter had the first news, 
 and fled on board the Vulture, which had 
 not gone down the river. He was therefore 
 safe, but poor Andre' was a prisoner. 
 
 A council of war was called to decide 
 what was to be done with the prisoner. They 
 were good men, and were fair to Andre' when 
 he was brought before them. He was manly 
 and truthful, telling the council the whole 
 story; he did not ask anything. They pitied 
 him. Every one felt that it was Arnold who 
 was most guilty. He was the traitor. If 
 Sir Henry Clinton would send Arnold back, 
 they would spare Andre'. But that could not 
 be, and the brave young major was con- 
 demned to death. It was hard, but it was 
 right. An officer in the enemy's camp in 
 secret, is a spy; and a spy is to be hanged. 
 Andre' was a spy, and it was right he should 
 be hung. 
 
 Sir Henry Clinton did all he could honora- 
 
THE BRAVE MAJOR ANDRE. Page 139. 
 
Arnold and Andke.^ i 39 
 
 bly do to save Andre', for he loved him as if 
 he were his son. He wrote General Wash- 
 ington ; he sent commissioners to the Amer- 
 ican camp ; he proposed a reference to two 
 French generals. All would not do. Wash- 
 ington was firm. He pitied Andre', but' he 
 was just, and justice is a higher virtue than 
 pity. It was made known to Sir Henry Clin- 
 ton, however, that Andre' might be exchanged 
 for Arnold, if Sir Henry would give up the 
 latter ; but he would not. " It would," he 
 said, "be a violation of his honor," and he 
 would not listen to the idea for a moment. 
 
 Major Andre', therefore, prepared to die. 
 He was composed. To all those who were 
 about him he showed the utmost gentleness. 
 His sentence was read to him in the morninir, 
 that he was to die in the afternoon. His ser- 
 vant began to cry. " Leave me till you can 
 be more manly," he said. He ate his break- 
 fast, and then sat for an hour at his desk, 
 making a pen-picture' of himself. It is very 
 
140 S TORIES OF American History. 
 
 good, and can be seen in the Trumbull Gal- 
 lery at Yale Colleo:e. He then shaved and 
 dressed, placed his chapeau on the table, 
 and said cheerfully to his guard, " Tell the 
 officers I am ready." 
 
 The troops were drawn up, the field-officers 
 and their staffs were mounted, and there was 
 a great crowd of citizens. As Major Andre' 
 walked from the stone-house, arm-in-arm with 
 two officers, he was calm and dignified. He 
 had hoped to be shot ; and when the gallows 
 came in view, was visibly affected for a mo- 
 ment, but instantly recovered himself. At 
 the i)lace, he stepped quickly into the wagon 
 under the gallows, bandaged his eyes himself, 
 and adjusted the rope on his neck. 
 
 " Have you anything to say, Major ?" asked 
 Colonel Scammell. 
 
 " Bear witness that I die like a brave man,*' 
 he answered. The wagon was now moved, 
 and Major Andre was suspended by the neck 
 and died. 
 
Arnold and Andr£. 141 
 
 Benedict Ai'iiold was made a Britisli offi- 
 cer, and received a sum of money. He lived 
 to the age of sixty-one, and died in London 
 in 1801. Everybody despised him. Officers 
 would not keep his company. The brand of 
 TRAITOR was on his name, and will be for- 
 ever. But year after year, since 1777, Major 
 Andre' has been called a HERO. His friends 
 mourned for him ; his commanding officer 
 eulogized him in a public order ; the king 
 conferred knighthood upon his brother ; the 
 ministry granted a pension to his mother; 
 his remains w^ere removed to Westminster 
 Abbey, and a handsome monument was 
 raised over them. Even his enemies honor 
 his memory, and his name will be a glory 
 foreven 
 
142 S TORIES OF American History. 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 FRANCE OUR ALLY. 
 
 In the year 1777 there came to America 
 a young French Marquis, named LaFayette. 
 He was rich, noble, and brave. Fitting out a 
 ship and loading her with supj)lies, he had 
 sailed from France to give the Americans 
 help in their darkest hour. Offering his 
 services to Congress, he said : "I want no 
 pay, I only want to help you." They gave 
 him command under Washington, who took 
 him into his military family, and he was 
 afterwards made major-general, and did 
 good service to the end of the war. 
 
 The people of France had never blamed us 
 for revolting against England. Those two 
 countries were old enemies, and Frenchmen 
 were glad to see English pride have a fall. 
 In fact, they wanted us to succeed, and helped 
 
France our Ally. , 143 
 
 us to arms, clothing, and provisions, though 
 Louis XYI, the king, was not quite ready to 
 acknowledge our independence. He was not 
 certain that we were not going to fail. 
 
 But after LaFayette had sent word home 
 that the Americans would certainly succeed 
 in the end, and the surrender of Burgoyne 
 had taken place, and all the states seemed to 
 be united together, France made a treaty 
 with us, agreeing to lend us money, and send 
 us an army and navy. She acknowledged 
 the United States to be a sovereign nation, 
 and agreed to help us till England took home 
 her troops and left us alone. 
 
 As soon as this was known in England, it 
 made King George angry with France and 
 sorry about America. ''What! What! What! 
 What ! " in his way of speaking a word four 
 times over, he said ; " Dare to meddle with 
 my colonies ! We '11 see, see, see, see ! " And 
 so England declared war against France, and 
 put herself in fighting trim. 
 
144 Stories of American History. 
 
 But towards us she all at once became 
 very good-natured. " What is the use," 
 asked the old king, " of fighting with our chil- 
 dren ? Let us give them what they want, 
 and make up." So Parliament made a law 
 that if we would lay down our arms and 
 come back as good colonists, that England 
 would not tax us; that there should be no 
 British soldiers here, and that we might send 
 members to Parliament. The king then sent 
 three men to tell this to Congress. 
 
 This was backing down, indeed ! Three 
 years before, such a law would have j^reventcd 
 war. But now, when we had been fighting 
 four summers, had a powerful army and good 
 commanders, had taken one great body of 
 troops and conquered others, had declared 
 ourselves independent and made a treaty 
 with France, and when from north to south 
 w^e no longer called ourselves English colo- 
 nists but American citizens, to ask us to 
 make up and call George III king again, was 
 
France our Ally. 145 
 
 like expecting a big four years old boy to go 
 back to the baby's cradle. It could not be. 
 
 The three commissioners came, and tried 
 to lay the proposition before Congress. Con- 
 gress would not receive them. They' then 
 wrote to Washingtoi], and Laurens, and Keed, 
 and others, but their letters were sent back. 
 At last they sent out printed placards^ ap- 
 pealing to the people ; but farmers and mer- 
 chants, laborers and teamsters, everybody, 
 laughed at them. They were like those folks 
 in the nursery song : — 
 
 " Three men of Gotham 
 Went to sea in a bowl ; 
 If the bowl had been stronger, 
 My song had been longer." 
 
 To Mr. Keed, a bribe was offered. Said a 
 lady to him, — 
 
 " Mr. Reed, if you will try to bring the 
 
 people back to their king, you can have 
 
 £10,000 and the best office in the country." 
 10 
 
146 Stories of American History. 
 
 " Madam," replied he, " I am not worth 
 buying ; but such as I am, the king of Eng- 
 land is not rich enough to buy me.'' 
 
 The commissioners gained nothing, and 
 returned to England. It was too late for 
 George III to get back his colonies. 
 
 The king of France kept his Avord. He 
 ►sent a fleet to aid us. To the end of the 
 war he was faithful. Great numbers of sol- 
 diers from the French army came over in 
 ships. It was a great help to us, for our 
 people were getting weary with the long 
 Avar. They felt sure now that they should 
 conquer at last. 
 
 For two years longer did Great Britain 
 endeavor to recover her old colonies. Find- 
 ing that kind words did not answer, larger 
 armies Avere sent over. She hired more 
 Hessians, sent over larger fleets, expended 
 greater sums of money, and Avould not listen 
 to terms of peace. There Avere many more 
 battles. Victory was sometimes on their 
 
France our Ally. 147 
 
 side, sometimes on ours. Angry at om* 
 obstinacy, the British soldiers ravaged our 
 fields, burned our houses, made war on 
 women and children, and ill-treated the 
 prisoners they took. Benedict Arnold, the 
 traitor, who now had command of British 
 soldiers, had no regard to the rules of civ- 
 ilized war. He did not spare age or sex, 
 wherever he went. Savages were not more 
 cruel than he and his tigers, as his men 
 were called. But the end came at last, 
 and the United States were an independent 
 nation. 
 
148 Stories of American History. 
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 JOHN PAUL JONES. 
 
 In September, 1777, while all the farmers^ 
 boys in New England were marching to fight 
 Burgoyne, a great battle came off on the 
 English coast between the English ship " Se- 
 rapis," and the American ship " Bon Homme 
 Richard.'' Captain Pearson commanded the 
 " Serapis," and Paul Jones the " Richard." 
 
 All day long the "Richard" had been fol- 
 lowing the " Serapis," trying to come up with 
 her. The "Richard" was the better sailing 
 vessel, and, therefore, just as the sun was set- 
 ting, she came alongside, her sails all spread, 
 her guns shotted, her men ready for action, 
 and the stars and stripes, then shown for the 
 first time, flying at her mast-head. Both 
 ships were nearly equally mated in size, 
 guns, and men. The British flag flew from 
 
yoHN Paul Jones. 149 
 
 the mainmast of the " Serapis," and as with 
 full sails she sped over the waters, she looked 
 as if she might defy a whole fleet. 
 
 It was the first time that England and the 
 United States ever met in equal match at sea. 
 Both commanders were brave and proud; 
 both were ready to fight for their country ; 
 both thought they were right. 
 
 As the "Bon Homme Richard" neared the 
 " Serapis," Jones cried out through his speak- 
 ing-trumpet, " Ship ahoy ! " 
 
 " Aye, aye ! " was the cry from the British 
 ship. 
 
 " What 's your name ? " sounded over the 
 waters. 
 
 "His majesty's ship, 'Serapis'! What is 
 yours ? " cried Captain Pearson. 
 
 " 'Bon Homme Richard' ! " answered Paul 
 Jones. "Haul down your flag!" • 
 
 For a moment there was no reply to this, 
 and then a whole broadside of guns was 
 poured into the " Bon Homme Richard," the 
 
150 Stories of American- History. 
 
 balls splintering her masts, killing several 
 men, and exploding a part of her magazine. 
 This was enough. The fight Paul Jones 
 wanted was begun. His guns were all 
 loaded. At each one stood a man with 
 lighted torch. Every sailor had a drawn 
 sabre. The deck was cleared of the dead 
 and wounded. Man and bov, on board the 
 " Kichard," were ready. Jones saw at a 
 glance that all was right, when he called 
 out to the helmsman, — 
 
 " Hard-a-port ! " 
 
 This brought the two ships close together, 
 and in an instant his ship poured her full 
 broadside into the " Serapis," sweeping her 
 decks, and shattering her bulwarks. 
 
 The battle now went on in earnest. While 
 the full moon was shining in the heavens, and 
 the stars were coming out in the dark blue 
 sky, and the sea was calm as a lake in a 
 summer day, and crowds of j^eople were 
 looking on from Flamborough Hills, these 
 
yoHN Paul Joa^es. 151 
 
 two great ships were in deadly contest. 
 They sailed back and forth. Sometimes they 
 were separated, and sometimes they almost 
 grazed each other's sides. Fire succeeded 
 lire. Cannon balls tore the rigging, and shiv- 
 ered the yards, and carried away the booms, 
 and killed and wounded the men, on both 
 ships. It was a terrible fight and a dreadful 
 slaughter. In the midst of all this, Captain 
 Pearson called out, — 
 
 '' Are you ready to surrender ? " 
 " Surrender ! " answered Paul Jones, " we 
 have not begun to fight yet ! " 
 
 And so the battle w^ent on. Soon the ves- 
 sels touched each other, crowding side to side. 
 Sailors armed with cutlasses rushed from the 
 "Richard" on to the "Serapis," cutting down 
 all they met. Marines kept loading and firing 
 the great guns. The oflicers of both ships 
 were shooting at each other with pistols. 
 Hand grenades were thrown about like play- 
 things, and kept exploding, tearing up decks 
 
152 Stories of American History. 
 
 and shattering bulwarks. It was the most 
 territic sea-fight the world had ever known. 
 
 The battle had now lasted for two hours. 
 Several great guns had burst, scattering de- 
 struction around. The "Serapis" had been 
 on fire not less than ten times, and once 
 both ships were on fire at the same time, 
 while each was raking the other with cannon- 
 balls. Of both ships the rigging was cut to 
 pieces, the masts riddled, the top-gallants and 
 yards splintered, the bowsprits shot away, 
 and the liulls pierced with holes. A quantity 
 of cartridges exploded on the " Serapis," 
 which left her quarter-deck without a man. 
 Everybody's face was black with powder; 
 the decks of both ships ran with blood; 
 the killed were thrown into the sea without 
 benedictions or i)rayers ; the cockpits were 
 filled with wounded and dying; and men on 
 both sides were so angry that they murdered 
 each other like wild beasts, not knowing 
 what they did, or giving or asking quarter. 
 
A NAVAL BATTLE. 
 
John Paul Jones. 153 
 
 At length the " Serapis " struck her colors, 
 and was taken possession of by Paul Jones. 
 It was now ten o'clock at night. The "Rich- 
 ard" was so damaged that she had to be 
 abandoned, and she shortly afterwards went 
 down. The mizzen-mast of the " Serapis " fell 
 after the ships separated, but it was cleared 
 from the vessel so as to do no damage. 
 Thus ended the greatest sea-fight of the 
 American Revolution. 
 
 Paul Jones lived many years afterwards, 
 and fought many battles, but none so famous 
 as this. He scoured the seas, took many Brit- 
 ish merchant ships, ran into English and 
 Scotch ports, and kept everybody in fear of 
 him. His name became famous. Many ships 
 of war sailed to take him, but he was too 
 wide-awake for them. He served the United 
 States to the end of the war, and died in 
 Paris in 1798. 
 
154 Stories of American- History. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HENRY LAURENS. 
 
 The tower of London is a great state prison, 
 more than a thousand years old. Here kings 
 have been coniined, and princesses beheaded, 
 and statesmen shut away from their families 
 and the world, ever since England was a 
 kingdom. Perhaps one distinguished Ameri- 
 can only was ever imprisoned here, and his 
 crime was love of his- country. For two long 
 years, sometimes not permitted for weeks to 
 go out on the walls to see the sun or 
 breathe the air, supplied with bad food, fur- 
 nished with a damp bed, and forbidden his 
 accustomed comforts, did this great and good 
 man suffer here. He might have been free 
 any day, if he would have acknowledged 
 Georsfe Third as his kino;. He midit have 
 had honors and command, as well. But he 
 
Henry Laurens. 155 
 
 would do no such thing. He spurned the 
 bribes that were offered. Imprisonment and 
 death to him were better than treachery. 
 And so, heart-sick and ill and lame, while 
 his property was being destroyed at home 
 and his family were broken up, did this 
 noble Christian gentleman suffer without a 
 murmur, for devotion to his country. 
 
 Henry Laurens was a South Carolina 
 planter. When the war commenced he was 
 in England, known as a great and good man ; 
 he had tried to prevent his friends in Parlia- 
 ment from acting against the colonies. He 
 opposed the stamp act. He called the tax 
 on tea a " crazy crusade." Together with 
 thirty-eight other South Carolinians who were 
 in London, he signed a remonstrance against 
 the Boston Port Bill. But all was in vain. 
 England was obstinate. And in 1776, Mr. 
 Laurens took his son John, whom he had 
 been educating in Europe, and came back to 
 South Carolina. . John entered the army. 
 
156 Stories of American- History. 
 
 His father was sent to Congress. The two, 
 who dearly loved each other, never met again. 
 
 In the Continental Congress Mr. Laurens 
 had great weight. He was a handsome man, 
 with gray hair and pleasant face. His voice 
 was musical, his manners were gentle, and 
 his presence w^as commanding. When he 
 spoke in public every one listened. His 
 opinions had the respect even of those who 
 differed from him. He was also a methodical 
 man. He had a place for everything, and 
 everything was in its place. At an early 
 part of his life he had been a merchant, and 
 in his business all was done like clock-work. 
 In Congress it was the same. He was always 
 present, always attentive, never in a hurry, 
 but always at work. 
 
 When John Hancock left, Mr. Laurens 
 was elected president of the Congress. He 
 presided with great dignity. Karely was he 
 ever severe, and never was he angry. All the 
 members respected him. Benjamin Franklin 
 
Henry Laurens. 157 
 
 was his friend. Joliii Adams said lie was 
 the wisest man in America. Thomas Jeffer- 
 son loved him like a brother. 
 
 By-and-by a time came for the United 
 States to send an ambassador to Holland. 
 An ambassador should be a gentleman, a 
 man of wisdom, and acquainted with other 
 languages than his own. Unfortunately, all 
 ambassadors are not so ; but Mr. Laurens was. 
 He was therefore made ambassador or min- 
 ister from the United States to Holland, and 
 soon set sail for that country. 
 
 Passing through the English channel, the 
 ship in which he sailed was overhauled and 
 searched by a British man-of-war. When 
 Mr. Laurens heard the demand of the British 
 officer, " Heave-to your ship, and I will send 
 a boat aboard you ! " and saw a pinnace 
 launched to bring search officers, he was 
 alarmed. Going hastily to his state-room, he 
 tied all his papers in a parcel, in the inside 
 placing an inkstand for a weight, and came 
 back on deck to sink them. He was too late. 
 
'158 Stories of American- History. 
 
 The pinnace was close by. As be threw the 
 package into the water a British sailor 
 reached out and caught it while sinking. 
 When opened, the papers showed ^Ir. Laurens 
 to be a minister from the United States to 
 Holland, and he was sent to the tower. 
 
 It was not till General Cornwallis had sm*- 
 rendered, and Great Britain had given up her 
 colonies, that Laurens was released. He 
 was then employed as commissioner, together 
 with Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and John 
 Adams, to negotiate peace with England. 
 
 Mr. Laurens returned home at the conclu- 
 sion of the war. He found his houses burned, 
 his stock destroyed, his plantations ravaged, 
 and all his improvements overturned. He 
 had left America rich ; he returned poor. 
 But he did not complain. He set to work 
 with his usual energy and method to put 
 things to rights, and would no doubt have 
 succeeded in time. But his long sufferings 
 in the tower had weakened his constitution, 
 and he did not long survive. 
 
yoHN Laurens. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 JOHN LAURENS. 
 
 Four young undei-graduates were chatting 
 together on a seat under the great oak of 
 Christ's college-yard, Oxford. A fifth came 
 up, and' nodding to the others, asked, "Have 
 you heard the news from America?" 
 
 They all answered, " No. Tell us what it is." 
 
 " Our troops," he replied, " have whipped 
 at Bunker Hill those cowardly Americans." 
 
 "Those what?" said one of the four, 
 springing suddenly to his feet. " Those 
 what, sir ? Say it again at your peril." 
 
 He was a fine, tall fellow, with black, curl- 
 ing hair, and dark, flashing eyes, who thus 
 suddenly challenged the other to repeat his 
 remark. The offenler hesitated, looked for a 
 moment into the face of his opponent, and 
 then slowly repeated the offensive words. 
 
i6o Stories of American History. 
 
 '' I said, sir, that British soldiers had 
 whipped the cowardly Americans." 
 
 " Then take that, sir," replied the first, 
 "from an American who tells you that you 
 lie ! " and with a blow of his fist, planted 
 squarely in the speaker's face, he felled him 
 to the ground. 
 
 The whole affair was of an instant. The 
 others had no time to interfere. It was a 
 word and a blow. With blackened eve and 
 bleeding nose the Englishman picked him- 
 self up, saying : 
 
 "You will be sorry for this, Laurens." 
 
 "Perhaps so," replied the young south- 
 erner ; " but any man who dares in my pres- 
 ence to call my countrymen cowards will 
 fare as you have." 
 
 John Laurens was then twenty years old. 
 He liad been educated in France and Ger- 
 many, and spoke their Imguages like his 
 own. He was now graduating from Oxford 
 University. His father had spared no ex- 
 
JOHN LAURENS AT OXFORD. Page 
 
 160, 
 
JoH^Y Laurens. ■ i6i 
 
 pense to make liim accompli she cl. He was 
 a good scholar ; on the violin he could dis- 
 course sweet music ; at ball, or on the slack 
 rope, or in running a race, he had no equal ; 
 and as a truthful, brave, outspoken young 
 gentleman, there was not his superior in his 
 college. His father loved him dearly, and 
 wanted to make him a great lawyer. 
 . In 1776 he left England with his father and 
 sailed for America. On shipboard everybody 
 liked him. He climbed the ropes, became 
 intimate with officers and sailors, and in the 
 sports which passengers have at sea, would 
 lift the heaviest weight and perform the adroit- 
 est rope feats. Before the ship reached land, 
 a pilot came on board and told of the British 
 being driven out of Boston, and of Washing- 
 ton's success at the head of the American army. 
 There was no more thought of law. " I 
 must go into the army, father," said the 
 young man ; and before many weeks, after the 
 
 ship had come to port, John Laurens had 
 11 
 
1 62 Stories of American' History. 
 
 J, 
 
 buckled on his sword, said good-by to his 
 friends, and was an aide-de-camp of General 
 Washington. 
 
 And now it was just the same. He would 
 write despatches all night, that they might 
 be ready in the morning. He would sleep on 
 the ground, if his tent were wanted. A dry 
 crust of bread in his saddle-bags was all he 
 needed for food. To ride sixty miles a day 
 right through the enemy's pickets was easy 
 to him. He feared nothing. What fatigue 
 was, he did not know. His gray mare — 
 Fanny Grey he called her — would gallop 
 all day, and then lay down by his side all 
 night. Washington had no one he loved so 
 well, or trusted so much. 
 
 Young Laurens was commander often, as 
 well as aide-de-camp. He was wounded at 
 Brandywine, but would not dismount till the 
 battle was over. He fought at Germantown 
 with such bravery, that old soldiers said, " He 
 will surely be killed." He was in the thickest 
 
yOHN La UK ENS. 163 
 
 of the fight at Monmouth and Charleston. 
 And to brave old Moultrie, when he was bat- 
 tling stoutly against the British, Laurens 
 was most useful of all his captains. Ready 
 upon all occasions, quick, intelligent, good- 
 natured, without vices and without fear, 
 faithful to friends and generous to foes, 
 no wonder Washington called him after a 
 famous soldier of old time in France, "the 
 Chevalier Bayard of the army." 
 
 It was not his courage only, nor his hand- 
 some person, nor his agreeable manners, that 
 served his turn. His French and German 
 were of great service. He was secretary and 
 interpreter and foreign correspondent to the 
 commander-in-chief. When French officers, 
 who could not speak English, came to head- 
 quarters, it was Colonel Laurens who wel- 
 comed them. When orders had to be sent 
 to the French troops, it was Colonel Lau- 
 rens who carried them. When despatches 
 in French had to be prepared, it Avas Colo- 
 nel Laurens who wrote them. 
 
164 Stories of American History. 
 
 At one time Congress wanted money to 
 pay the army. LaFayette advised to borrow 
 it in France. "Whom shall we send?" the 
 speaker asked. Some said, " Send General 
 LaFayette." Others said, " Send Colonel 
 Hamilton." But when Washington was asked, 
 he replied, " Send John Laurens." 
 
 Colonel Laurens went and got the money ; 
 but, as Benjamin Franklin said, " it was by 
 the skin of his teeth." Count Yergennes, 
 the minister, would not listen to him. He 
 could not get the ear of any of the princes. 
 Our ambassador could not help him. He 
 concluded, therefore, to appeal directly to 
 the king, did so, and succeeded. 
 
 Poor fellow, he was killed in the little bat- 
 tle of Chehaw, when only twenty-five years 
 old. The whole country mourned for him. 
 AYashington wept when he heard the news. 
 And to this day old people in South ^Carolina 
 tell the tales they heard from their * grand- 
 mothers, about brave and handsome John 
 Laurens. 
 
Surrender of Cornwallis. 165 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 
 
 It was now the year 1781. The Eevoliition- 
 ary war had lasted six years. In New Eng- 
 land there had been no battles for a long time, 
 and everything there was becoming prosper- 
 ous again. The British still held New York, 
 however, and their armies for nearly two 
 years had been desolating the southern 
 States. In South Carolina and Georgia, Gen- 
 eral Cornwallis had marched through the 
 country, winning victories, and his soldiers 
 had destroyed plantations, burned mills, and 
 imprisoned and hanged the people. But, by- 
 and-by, General Greene began to get the 
 better of Cornwallis. He harassed the rear 
 of his army, captured his baggage wagons, 
 destroyed the bridges over streams, and made 
 everything so uncomfortable for Cornwallis, 
 that he started for Virginia. 
 
1 66 Stories of American History. 
 
 General Greene was a great soldier. Wash- 
 ington thought him to be the wisest officer 
 in the American army. He was never rash. 
 He cared for his men. He would not expose 
 them to unnecessary danger ; wanted them 
 to be well fed and clothed, and to have good 
 shelter ; took care to have them well 
 trained ; and required perfect discipline. 
 And when there was a battle to be fought, he 
 wanted his soldiers to fight, not like cowards, 
 but like brave men. And they did so. They 
 loved their commander. They. would go to 
 death for him. And whenever a battle went 
 bad, and the enemy pressed hard, and the 
 men were falling on every side, and some 
 felt like giving up, it needed no more than 
 for General Greene to come out on his white 
 horse, and show himself. "Hurrah! Hur- 
 rah for old Nat ! " was cried by those who 
 first got sight of him, and caught up by the 
 others as he rode along, until every soldier 
 fought with new courage. , 
 

 SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. Page 167. 
 
Surrender of Cornwallis. 167 
 
 It was a long distance to Virginia. All the 
 way, day after day, for many weeks, as the 
 tired army of Cornwallis marched northward, 
 Greene followed. He was ready to seize ev- 
 ery advantage. Stand a battle he would not, 
 because he had not enough men ; but to cut 
 off foraging parties, capture horses and mules, 
 drive in pickets, and entrap unwary soldiers, 
 he was ever on hand. By the time, there- 
 fore, that General 'Cornwallis had reached 
 Yirginia, he had not much left besides his 
 army ; no mules, no wagons, no provisions. 
 An army negro, when asked, as the British 
 army went through Wilmington, — 
 
 " Where's massa's wagons, Joe, wot you 
 took ? " 
 
 " Chawed up." 
 
 " Where's all the mules and horses ? " 
 
 " Chawed up." 
 
 " Where's dem darkies wot you took to 
 fetch back ? " 
 
 " Chawed up." 
 
1 68 Stories of American History. 
 
 " Dat 'scuse won't do, Joe. Massa wants 
 dem niggers back." 
 
 '' Can't help it," replied Joe, " dem niggers 
 chawed up ! " 
 
 " What yon mean, Joe ?" replied the other. 
 
 " Mean," said Joe," dat old Greene, de 
 white bear, hab chawed up everything dis 
 army brought from Care'lina." 
 
 When Cornwallis reached Torktown, in 
 Virginia, he determined to go into quarters. 
 It was only in August. There was time for a 
 long campaign. But he was tired. His men 
 wanted rest, and deprived of materials of 
 war, he thought to get others from New York, 
 where Sir Henry Clinton held command. 
 He hoped, too, that some troops would 
 march to his relief from the same place. In 
 both he was disappointed. Sir Henry Clin- 
 ton had too much to do. He promised help 
 to General Cornwallis, but none came. Upon 
 himself alone was the conqueror of South 
 Carolina obliged at last to rely. 
 
Surrender of Cornwallis. 169 
 
 Once in Torktown, the British troops built 
 forts, placed cannon, erected redoubts, and 
 prepared to wait for help. A few weeks 
 would give them supplies from New York 
 both of troops and provisions. But those 
 fcAV weeks were not theirs. Washington saw 
 need of haste, and he pressed matters to the 
 utmost. 
 
 First, all the American and French troops 
 which could be spared were sent to Torktown. 
 They surrorunded the city, built forts, mounted 
 guns, and began to bombard the place. 
 
 Second, all the ships of the French fleet- 
 came together at the mouth of the Chesa- 
 peake Bay, and made it impossible for the 
 British ships to bring troops to Cornwallis 
 without a sea-hght. 
 
 Third, the French transports brought all 
 the guns, spades, crow bars, picks and other 
 tools from Washington's army, to be used at 
 Torktown. 
 
 When all was ready, Torktown was in- 
 vested by the American army. Forts were 
 
170 Stories of America at History. 
 
 built. Trenches were dug. Parallels were 
 made. Nearer and nearer every day the city 
 was approached. Once or twice the British 
 troops came out to fight, but were driven 
 back. As a spider winds its web around a 
 fly, the allies wound their lines around York- 
 town. Soon all the batteries were finished 
 and mounted. A hundred cannon then 
 began to play. They shattered the British 
 walls, filled their ditches, and dismounted 
 their cannon. There was then nothing for 
 General Cornwallis to do but surrender. He 
 sent a flag of truce to General Washington to 
 say he was ready to capitulate. The terms 
 were agreed upon ; the British soldiers laid 
 down their arms ; and the last army of Eng- 
 land in America was conquered. 
 
 There was then great joy all over the coun- 
 try. The United States were free. Obstinate 
 King George the Third had to give up, and 
 in a few years he signed a treaty acknowl- 
 edging us to be independent. 
 
Seth Pomeroy. 171 
 
 CHAPTER XXn. 
 
 SETH POMEROY. 
 
 In New England, a hundred years ago, 
 the people were mainly mechanics and farm- 
 ers. There were, indeed, clergymen, and phy- 
 sicians, and merchants. But everybody else 
 turned the soil or plied a trade. General 
 Pomeroy was one of these last. He was 
 both farmer and blacksmith. His ances- 
 tors had been blacksmiths. It was a family 
 trade. The anvil on which his great-grand- 
 father had forged muskets in England, was 
 in his shop. That old first settler made guns 
 so true to their mark, that the colony of 
 Massachusetts Bay wanted him. Under the 
 shadows of Mount Tom there was a tract of 
 rich land which they voted should be his, if 
 he would come from Connecticut and make 
 guns. He accepted the offer and removed to 
 Massachusetts. 
 
172 Stories of Amfirican History. 
 
 Setli, his descendant, grew to be such a 
 large, fine fellow, that he was made ca]D- 
 tain of a militia company when he was only 
 twenty, and before he was thirty he was 
 created major and fought at CaiDC Breton. 
 Then, ten years after, he was at Crown Point, 
 and was promoted colonel. That was almost 
 seventeen years before the Eevolutionary war; 
 and by that time Colonel Setli was getting 
 well into his sixties. But it did not matter. 
 He no sooner heard about Lexington, than, 
 like an old war-horse, he snuffed the approach- 
 ing troubles. " There is something coming," 
 he said, " that will make the ears of George 
 III tingle ; and whatever it is, I want to be 
 in it." 
 
 The day before the battle of Bunker Hill, 
 there came, riding rapidly up to the old 
 homestead in Easthampton, a man inquir- 
 ing for Colonel Pomeroy. 
 
 " He is taking his afternoon nap, sir," 
 said a young woman, who came to the 
 
Seth Pomeroy. 173 
 
 door ; " walk into the house, and I will call 
 him." 
 
 " Give him this letter, please, Miss," re- 
 plied the man, " and let me have some 
 refreshments immediately, for I must be 
 back to Cambridge to-morrow." 
 
 "Cambridge to-morrow," exclaimed the girl, 
 as she left the room ; "Cambridge to-morrow! 
 Is there to be fighting, then ? " 
 
 The stranger had no time to reply, before 
 Colonel Pomeroy, in his shirt-sleeves, entered 
 the room. 
 
 " Sergeant Smith, I suppose ? " he asked. 
 " The bearer of this letter ? " 
 
 " Yes, Colonel," was the reply. 
 
 "Well, get what food you want, and be 
 ready to start back instantly. I will bear 
 you company." 
 
 " But you won't ride to Cambridge to- 
 night, father," said the girk "Think of 
 your rheumatism ! " 
 
 " They want me," replied the veteran sol- 
 
174 Sto/?/es of American History. 
 
 - 
 
 dier ; " Ward wants me. There is something 
 coming off to-morrow, and they want me 
 there. Tell Lem. to saddle the black mare, 
 and do 3'oii get my epaulets." 
 
 There was no use in expostulation. The 
 two started at four o'clock in the afternoon, 
 rode to Brookfield, obtained fresh horses, 
 rode on to Marlborough and got others, and 
 hastened onward. All night long, through the 
 woods and past the churches and over the 
 hills, they sped their way. They were weary 
 enough when the morning sun lighted up 
 Beacon Hill; for 115 miles had been ridden 
 in 15 hours. But the great guns of the ships 
 and the batteries on the wharves were in 
 active play, pouring their terrible fire into 
 Charlestown, and it meant fighting. The old 
 soldier would not shirk duty. When honor 
 called, and country was in danger, life to him 
 was as nothing, and into the thickest of the 
 fight he was bound to go. 
 
 "I won't ride the mare across the 'neck,'" 
 said the old hero ; " she may be hit." 
 
Seth Pomeroy. 175 
 
 "But it is safer to ride than walk," an- 
 swered the sergeant. 
 
 '' That may be," he replied ; " but this is 
 a borrowed horse. Take her to the tavern 
 yonder, and I will cross on foot." 
 
 The sergeant led the animal back, while 
 Colonel Pomeroy, shouldering his musket, 
 hurried across to the battle. 
 
 How he took command of the raw troops 
 along side the rail fence ; how he cheered 
 them when they grew weary ; how he fought 
 with his gun until a British ball indented 
 the barrel ; how, when the enemy gained the 
 ground, he was the last man to leave ; and 
 how he beat British soldiers back once and 
 again with the breech of his gun, — everybody 
 knew in those days. He led his men in 
 good order off the hill, and his descendants 
 still show his battered musket. 
 
 Congress soon made Pomeroy a general. 
 Infirm as he grew to be, he would not return 
 home.- He loved his country better than 
 
176 Stories of American History. 
 
 ease, " You have served in two wars already," 
 said Yv^asliington to him one day. "Ton have 
 done your duty well, general. Go home and 
 niake guns for us, and we will use them." 
 
 " Not yet," said the veteran. " I shall not 
 leave the field till you disgrace me, or the 
 bearers cany me." 
 
 Pomeroy was a gDod specimen of a Bay 
 State man in the grand old days. Xo one 
 ever doubted his word, his honor, or his 
 courage. He was a thrifty man, and knew 
 how to make money. He might have staid 
 from the war and become rich, but he pre- 
 ferred love of country to wealth, and honor 
 was dearer to him than gold. He died at 
 Peekskill, in the gloomiest time of the Eevol- 
 ution, true to his country to the last. 
 
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