. 1 /■ , -^_ c- \>^ , '^- - - -^ tt ^ ^ ^'^ a"^ 'r- f? '51 '^ -J^ rv\ ^ - ^ ^^. - oo » ;■ O 1 "■ .<^^ A- S^'-^.. "-C''^'' ./ % '%-4 X' ■i> ^-"o. ' :> -, ,v * ^\ ^^'\. ,^^^ >.^ •^^.- v^ \^ oo. I.' ' * >. Y .^-^^ i\ > N ' /;- ■^ v.^^ •r^-^.. ■- .{1 * .\^ '^:- -bo^ -e-. * -. N O ^ . • c5 '^'i' ,0o "oo A V) .■^' V-- ^^. % ,<^' .^^^ ^''%. <. A-^ -^ A '"'-'a' ^ -<.4 •^oo"^ \0 <* 4-7' \Q ^ "> ^ v-^^ ^^'"z- '^O ■a '^ (» '. •J O <. -^ ^''^^^Wcrz-* -b. L^ .-N^ ■-0 0^ ■<>< >> ^ A^^ 0^ s •\ V .0^. .\V .^N^ *. 'o. .0- .^^ %. 0> ,!-■'" . ^ ■v A -*."" .A ' " " ^ " a\ ' o '". rr'^ * A> ^^ v^ .■^'' .#^ '' '^o 0^' \' .0°. x^^ -^^ \ ■^■^^ O '^ / , . s ■< .O ^ ^ , X * .A <3 "SJ -i ^'^ ^^ 'b V ■^. aN > -^^^>%^ .. . ^ ::m A* v^ -oo^ fr ^ "^. ^%: .VO ^x. '^., ^ "> *'-^n>" .0- '%'<^'^ a'' * '^ ■^^ ' A - .^^ y''^ ■ ■ . - I - a . V -^ A » c ^ "s 1 '^-*> — ■■ ^ a o v ,■ V ^^ ^- V^ x^^^ ' » C ^ "S ^^' ,*■ T^W ^ (0)1' TMM 3 \ mr wmmiEi^^j Wo LaRisoiLfa FUBMSHE P BY E o KEARNY, N"5b Goi;^ St. J 10 LIVES OF THE PRESIDENTS OF THE UNITED STATES; WITH BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICES OF THE SIGNERS OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE; SKETCHES OF THE MOST REMARKABLE EVENTS IN THE HISTORY OF THE COUNTRY. PresicJent'a House, at Washington. BY ROBERT W. LINCOLN. EMBELLISHED WITH A PORTRAIT OF EACH OF THE PRESIDENTS. AND FORTY-FIVE ENGRAVINGS NEW YORK: PUBLISHED BY EDWARD KEARNY, 56 GOLD STREET. 18^. C-€^ '-€^11^ C-^^-v?^ f^rer,,, /^j /i , /S'^ i. , ^\ -^{p ^ Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1842, BY EDWARD KEARNY, in the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New York. > N N • . ^ \ V > PREFACE. In writing the Lives of the Presidents of the United States it has been d^cult to preserve the strict impartiality which the nature of the work requires, and avoid running either mto eulogy or abuse. The circumstances of their administration are so recent that one who has lived through the greater portion of them and entered into all the excited feelings of party strife, can hardly be supposed capable of divesting himself of prejudices and pass.ons, however much he may desire to be an honest chronicler of the times. We can only say, that it has been our smcere aim and endeavor to see ne^- events with the eye of a distant spectator and to anticipate the dispassionate judgment which posterity will pass upon the great men who have administered o^r Government The affairs of the last twenty years are hardly yet npe for the biographer, and the materials for their history are scattered m vaSdir'ections, and to be drawn from many different sources. That all those sources should be pure, is more than ^^n ^e expect- ed • but we have uniformly endeavored to resort only to those 4rrel::rsTo"u; ..U, we ^o ™uchoHiga«o„ . njany distinguished writers. To tl^e Lives of the Signers of tlte Declara- tion of Independence, by a gentleman who has done a great dea^ for the illustration of American history, we have been much indebted in the course of the volume, and particularly m om summary of their biographies. To the eloquent eulog|st of M . Monroe, to Marshall, Bancroft, Ramsay, Thacher, T"d-. ^.^ Lee, Jefferson, Irving, Knapp, the author of a ^'^S^-f^l'l^^^^ of J. Q. Adams, Goodrich, Hinton, the ed.tor "f A'^«™='», f ff, dotes, the author of the History of the United States, pubhshed IV PREFACE. in Lardner's Cyclopaedia, to Eaton, Goodwin, the editors of the Annual Register and North American Review, and many others, of whose labors we have had occasion to avail ourselves, we take this opportunity of noticing our repeated obligations. It is idle, in a work of this description, to pretend to originality, and unfair not to acknowledge the sources to which we have been indebted. We hope that our readers will find in this work all that has been promised, and indeed more. Of its imperfections no one can be more aware than ourself ; but of its impartiality and honesty we believe that no one will have reason to doubt. R. W. LINCOLN. New- York, July 20, 1833. OC/^ The publisher deems it proper to state, that the sketches of Presidents Harrison and Tyler have been prepared by another gentleman, and are now first published in the present edition of this work. Several errors which escaped notice in former editions, have been corrected in this, and it is believed this volume presents the only complete Biography extant of all the Presidents of the United States. New- York, August, 1842. CONTENTS. Page. jIves of the Presidents 1 George Washington 1 John Adams 71 Thomas Jefferson 97 James Madison , 131 James Monroe , 178 John Quincy Adams 237 Andrew Jackson 273 Martin Van Buren 325 William Henry Harrison 357 John Tyler 393 jIves of the Signers 411 Samuel Adams 411 Josiah Bartlett 413 Carter Braxton 415 Charles Carroll 416 Samuel Chase 422 Abraham Clarke 424 George Clymer 425 William Ellery 427 William Floyd 428 Benjamin Franklin 428 Elbridge Gerry 432 Button Gwinnett 436 Lyman Hall 436 John Hancock 437 Benjamin Harrison 439 John Hart 440 Joseph Hewes 441 Thomas Hey ward 443 William Hooper 444 Stephen Hopkins , 445 Francis Hopkinson , 446 Samuel Huntington ^. 447 Francis Lightfoot Lee X 448 Richard Henry Lee .- 450 Francis Lewis 452 WASHINGTON. Tlie French were the first European discoverers of the Mississippi, and claimed all those extensive regions whose waters emptied into that river. They had just formed a plan of connecting their possessions in America, by the union of Louisiana with Canada. In pursuance of this design, a line of military posts from the lakes to the Ohio had been commenced in the year 1753. This territory was situated within the boundaries of Vir- ginia, and the governor of that province deemed it his duty to remonstrate against encroachments, which he considered in violation of previous treaties. He determined to send an agent to the French commandant on the Ohio, to convey his views upon this important and delicate subject. For this purpose Mr. Washington was the person selected. In discharge of this trust, he set out about the middle of November, from Wills' Creek, then an extreme frontier settlement, and pursued his course over an unexplored tract of morasses and forests, over rivers of diffi- cult passage, and among tribes of hostile Indians. Reaching the Monon- gahela on the twenty-second, he there learned that the French general was dead, and that the greater part of the army had retired into winter quarters. Me spent a few days among the Indians, and very wisely secured the ser- vices of some of their chiefs, who guided him to the fott at French Creek, where he found the commanding officer on the Ohio. Delivering his let- ters, in three or four days he received an official reply, and immediately set out on his return. Finding the snow deep, and his horses weakened with fatigue, he determined to pursue his way on foot. He took his necessary papers, a gun and a pack, and wrapping himself in his watch-coat, set out with a single companion. On the day following, they fell in with a party of French Indians, one of whom fired upon them. They took this Indian WASHINGTON. J3 prisoner, and kept him until nine o'clock in the evening, when they re- leased him, and walked without stopping all the rest of the night, in order to be out of the reach of pursuit. As the answer of the French commandant indicated no disposition to withdraw from the disputed territory, the Assembly of Virginia determin- ed to maintain by force tlie rights of the British crown. A regiment was immediately raised of three lumdrcd men. The command of this body was giv.en to Mr. Fry, and Washington was appointed lieutenant colonel. Desirous to engage in active service, and take as early measures as possi- ble in defence of the colony, Washington obtained permission to march in advance of the other troops, to Great Meadows. On reaching this place, he learned from the friendly Indians that a party of the French were en- camped in a valley a few miles to the west. The night was dark and rainy, and entirely concealed the movements of the troops. They sur- rounded the French camp, and took it completely by surprise. The com- manding officer vvas killed, one person escaped, and all the rest immedi- ately surrendered. Soon after this affair. Colonel Fry died, and the command of the regiment devolved upon Washington, who speedily collected forces at Great Mea- dows, to the number of four hundred men. A small stockade was erected, called Fort Necessity, in which a few soldiers were stationed to guard the horses and provisions, while the main body moved forward to dislodge the French from Fort Du duesne. Thej had not proceeded more than thir- teen miles, when they were informed by friendly Indians, "that the French, as numerous as pigeons in the woods, were advancing in an hostile manner towards the English settlements, and also, that Port Du Q,uesne had been recently and strongly reinforced." In this critical situ- ation it was resolved to retreat to the Great Meadows, and every exertion was made to render Fort Necessity tenable. Before the completion of the works erecting for that purpose, the fort was attacked by a considerable force. The assailants were protected by trees and high grass. The Americans received them with great intrepidity, and Washington distin- guished himself by his coolness and address. The engagement continued from ten in the morning until dark, when the French general demanded a parley, and offered terms of capitulation. These were refused, but in the course of the night other proposals were accepted. The fort was sur- rendered on condition that the garrison should march out with the honors of war, should be permitted to retain their arms and baggage, and to pro- ceed without molestation into the inhabited parts of Virginia. A public vote of thanks was given to Washington and the officers under his com- mand, for their conduct in this affair ; and three hundred pistoles were distributed among the soldiers. The controversy in respect to the Ohio lands, which commenced in Virginia, was taken up with much zeal in Great Britain, and two regiments were sent to America to support the pretensions of his Britannic majesty. They arrived early in 1755, under the command of General Braddock, who invited Washington to serve the campaign as a volunteer aid-de-camp. This invitation he at once accepted, and joined the regiment on its march to Fort Cumberland. Here the army was detained till the twelfth of June, 4 WASHINGTON waiting for wagons, horses and provisions. Soon after resuming their march, Washington was seized with a violent fever, but refusing to re- main behind the army, was conveyed with them in a covered wagon. The object of the campaign was the capture of Fort Du Q,uesne. Washington advised the general to leave his heavy artillery and baggage behind, and to press forward with a chosen body of troops as expeditiously as possible. This advice was adopted, and twelve hundred men were se- lected, to be commanded by General Braddock in person, and to advance with the utmost despatch. This corps immediately commenced it? march, but did not move with the celerity that had been expected. " I found," said Washington, in a letter to his brother, " that instead of push- ing on with vigor, without regarding a little rough. road, they were halting to level every mole hill, and to erect bridges over every brook." They were four days in passing over the first nineteen miles from the Little Meadows. Here the sickness of Washington made it impossible for him to proceed on the march. General Braddock ordered him to stay behind with a small guard, till the arrival of Colonel Dunbar, with the rear di- vision of the army. As soon as his strength would permit, he rejoined the general, and immediately entered on the duty of his office. The next day was an eventful one in our early history. It was the ninth of July. General Braddock had crossed the Monongahela, and was pressing forward, with no apprehension of danger, to Fort Du Q,uesne. He was already within a few miles of his destination, marching on an open road thick set with grass, when on a sudden a heavy and well directed fire was opened upon his troops by an invisible enemy, consisting of the French and Indians. From their sheltered retreats they were able to take a safe and steady aim, and the officers of the British troops were slain in great numbers. In a short time Washington was the only aid-de-camp left alive and unwounded. He was obliged consequently to carry all of the general's orders, to every part of the battle-field in person. In performing WASHINGTON. 5 his duty, he had two horses killed under him, and four balls passed hrough his coat. " I expected every moment," says an eyewitness, " to ee him fall. Nothing but the superintending care of Providence could lave saved him from the fate of all around him." During the whole course of the battle Braddock displayed the utmost [itrepidity and firmness. He encouraged his men to keep their ground ; ut valor was useless, and he saw his army falling around him like grass nder the scythe, without being able to render them any assistance. Un- cquainted with the Indian mode of fighting, his eflforts to form his broken roops only exposed them more surely to the galling fire of the enemy, ^he action continued for three hours, in the course of which the general ad three horses killed under him, and received himself a mortal wound, lis troops immediately fled in great confusion. It was impossible to rally liem, until they had crossed the Monongahela, and placed a river between hemselves and their enemy. The Indians were too much occupied with he plunder, to think of continuing the pursuit. Braddock was carried to he camp of Dunbar, where in a few days he died. On this occasion the British officers behaved with admirable bravery, lut the common soldiers broke into confusion in spite of every effort to ally them, and fled like sheep before hounds. The three Virginia com- anies, on the contrary, conducted with great spirit, and fought with such isregard of danger, that there were scarcely thirty men left alive from heir whole number. This defeat did not injure the reputation of Wash- tigton. His countrymen praised his conduct, and it was well understood hat the disasters of the day originated in a neglect of his advice. Intelligence of the defeat of Braddock, and of the withdrawal of the egular forces from Virginia, arrived while the Assembly of that colony veie still in session. It was at once resolved to raise a regiment of sixteen ompanies to protect the frontier settlements. The command of this was ;iven to Washington, with authority to name the field officers. In executing the duties of his office, Washington visited the frontiers, ,nd made the best disposition of the few soldiers he found in the various losts. On his way to Williamsburg, he was overtaken by an express, viih information that the back settlements had been broken up by the •"rench and Indians, who were burning their houses, devastating their ;rops, murdering and leading into captivity the men, women and children, riie few troops stationed on the frontiers were unable to render them any Lssistance, but retired for their own safety to the stockade forts. Alarm tnd confusion prevailed on all sides. Before any sufficient force could be collected to repel the assailants, they had retreated beyond the Alleghany nountains, and were out of the reach of punishment. Irruptions of this tind were repeatedly made into the frontier settlements during the years 1756, 1757, and 1758. The distresses of the inhabitants were extreme, n the forts they suffered from hunger, and were often besieged and mur- lered. In their farms and villages they lay down every night with the ear of a cruel death, or a more cruel bondage, continually before them. The people looked to Washington for the protection he was unable to rive. The difficulty of raising a large number of men, and the inability )f a small number to protect the extensive frontiers of Virginia, were 6 WASHINGTON. continual sources of anxiety and distress. The savages made no distinc- tions in their warfare. They slew the women and children, the aged and the helpless, as well as the men whom they found in arms. Wash- ington, in a letter written during this period to the governor, observed — "The supplicating tears of the women and moving petitions of the men, melt me with such deadly sorrow, that I solemnly declare, if I know my own mind, I could offer myself a willing sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that would contribute to the people's ease." lie was indefati- gable in representing to the governor the wretched condition of the inha- bitants, and the great defects of the existing mode of defence. He ad- vised the reduction of Fort Du Quesne, the lurking-place and strong hold of these predatory bands, as the only means of effectually restoring secu- rity to the frontier settlements. In case this measure was not adopted, he advised that twenty-two forts, extending in a line of three hundred and sixty miles, should be erected and garrisoned by two thousand men, in constant pay and service. In the autumn of 1758, to the great joy of Washington, an expedition was fitted out against Fort Du Quesne; but on reaching the post, they found that the garrison had deserted it and re- treated down the Ohio. A treaty of peace was soon after concluded with the Indian tribes. Fort Du Quesne received the name of Fort Pitt, was repaired and garrisoned with two hundred men from AYashington's regiment. Henceforward it was a source of as much advantage to the English settlements, as it had before been of detriment. The remains of 'his fort presented the following appearance in the year 1S31. The great object of his wishes having been thus happily accomplished, Washington resigned his commission, and thus ended his career as a provincial officer. Soon after this resignation, he married Mrs. Martha WASHINGTON. 7 !ustis, a young and beautiful lady, of great accomplishments, and nn miable character. Retiring to the estate at Mount Vernon, which he ad acquired a few years before by the death of his elder brother, he evoted himself assiduously to the business of agriculture He became ne of the greatest landholders in North America. His Mount Vernon state alone consisted of nine thousand acres, and his domestic and irming establishments were composed of nearly a thousand persons. From the close of the frontier war to the commencement of the revolu- on, Washington acted as judge of a county court, and as a member of the [ouse of Burgesses of his native province. In this body he was never istinguished as a speaker, yet he secured the esteem and confidence of II who knew him, by the firmness and propriety of his conduct, and the niform good sense of his counsels. While in this situation, he took an jtive part in opposition to the principle of the British parliament, to tax le American colonies. He was elected a representative to the first Congress, which met at Philadelphia, in 1774, and was the active mcm- er of all the committees on military alfairs. When the commencement r hostilities made it necessary to appoint a commander-in-chief of the merican forces, George Washington was unanimously elected to the Tice. On receivinor from the President of Concrress official notice of lis appointment, he thus addressed him : " Mr. President, although I 11 truly sensible of the high honor done me in this appointment, yet I el great distress from a consciousness that my abilities and military cperience may not be equal to the extensive and important trust. How- ler, as the Congress desire it, I will enter upon the momentous duty, id exert every power I possess in their service, and for support of the lorious cause. I beg they will accept my most cordial thanks, for this istinguished testimony of their approbation. " But, lest some unlucky event should happen, unfavorable to my iputation, I beg it may be remembered by every gentlcnum in the room, lat I this day declare, with the utmost sincerity, I do not think myself ]ual to the command I am honored with. " As to pay, Sir, I bog leave to assure the Congress that as no pecunia- T consideration could have tempted me to accept this arduous employ- lent, at the expense of my domestic ease and happiness, I do not wish » make any profit from it. I will keep an exact account of my expenses; lose I doubt not they will discharge, and that is all I desire." A special commission was made out for him, and at the same time an iianimous resolution was adopted by Congress, " that they would main- lin and assist him, and adhere to him witli their lives and fortunes, for le maintenance and preservation of American liberty" He prepared to enter immediately on the duties of his high station, [aving passed a few days in New-York, and making some arrangement ith General Schuyler who commanded there, he proceeded to Cambridge, hich was the headquarters of the American army. On his way thither, e received from individuals and public bodies, the most flattering atten- on and the strongest promises of support and assistance. A committee r the Massachusetts Congress met him at Springfield, about one hun- ted miles from Boston, and conducted him to the army 8 WASHINGTON. Immcdiiitely alter his arrival, the Congress presented him an address, in which they expressed their approbation of his appointment, and the great respect and affection they entertained lor him. His reply was well calculated to increase these sentiments. He returned the warmest ac- knowledgments of their kindness, and promised ever to retain it in grateful remembrance. In the course of this reply, he observed, "In exchanging tlie enjoyments of domestic life for the duties of my present honorable, but arduous situation, I only emulate the virtue and public spirit of the whole province of Massachusetts, which, with a firmness and patriotism without example, has sacrificed all the comforts of social and political life, in suj)port of the rights of mankind, and the welfare of our conmion country. My highest ambition is to be the happy instrument of vindicating these rights, and to see this devoted province again restor- ed to peace, liberty and safety." On reaching the camp, tlie first movements of the commander-in-chief were directed to .an examination of the strength and situation of his forces. They amounted to about fourteen thousand and five hundred j, men ; occupying several j)Osts in an extent of about twelve miles. Some ' were stationed at Roxbury, some at Cambridge, and some on Winter and Prospect Hills in front of Bunker's Hill. A few companies were posted i^ in the towns about Boston Bay, which were most exposed to attacks from ' British armed vessels. The troops were not sufficiently numerous to defend so large an extent of country, but it was difficult to make a more compact arrangement. The British army were posted in three divisions. The main body, under General Howe, was intrenching itself on Bunker's Hill, in Charlestown. Another division was stationed -on Copp's Hill, and the third was strongly entrenched and fortified on Roxbury Neck. There were three floating batteries in Mystic river, and a small body of infantry and light horse stationed in Boston. The American army was very badly provided with the necessaries of war. Of military stores, they were almost entirely destitute. All the powder in New-England would not have furnished nine rounds to each soldier. In this condition, the army remained for a fortnight. There was no discipline .among the troops, owing to their being enlisted only for short periods. The appointment of general officers by Congress gave great dissatisfaction, and induced several of those who thought themselves injured, to quit the service. To remedy all these evils, to form an uniform mass of discordant materials, and subject men striving for independence to the rigid discipline of a camp, required patience, firmness, and a spirit of conciliation. General Gage had received a small reinforcement from New- York, so that the whole number of the British army now amounted to about eight thousand men. Their plans were principally directed to self-defence. With little interruption, both armies were employed in strengthening their re- L spective fortifications. But few skirmishes took place, and those without ] much bloodshed. This state of things did not satisfy the mind of Wash- ington. He was eager for some active measures to destroy the British ; army in Boston, before it should receive additional reinforcements ; and | before the resources of the colonies should be entirely exhausted. ; WASHINGTON. 9 The situation of the enemy was frequently reconnoitered, and every effort made to ascertain their strength. To carry (heir works by storm was a dangerous project, but it appeared to Washington practicable, and he determined to suggest it to his general officers. A council of war was called, and the measure proposed. It was decided that the attempt ought not to be at that time made. The original plan of continuing the blocks ade appeared the most advisable, and Washington acquiesced in the decision of the council. The scarcity of fresh provisions in Boston, induced the enemy to send small parties to forage along the shores of the continent, under the pro- tection of their armed vessels. The defence of their property imposed such a heavy burden upon the seaboard towns, that the governors of several colonies applied to Washington to send detachments to their assistance. Repeated applications of this nature were very embarrass- ing, till Congress passed a resolution " that the army before Boston was designed only to oppose the enemy in that place, and ought not to be weakened by detachments for the security of other parts of the country." In the course of the autumn, gradual approaches were made towards the British posts. The army was also reinforced by the arrival of more than fourteen hundred riflemen, from Pennsylvania and Maryland. Through the season, the most active exertions of the commander-in- chief were directed to procuring arms and ammunition for his troops. A voyage was made to Africa, and every pound of gunpowder for sale in the British factories along the coast, was obtained by the exchange of New-England rum. A British ordnance ship, completely h^den with military stores, was captured by a privateer under the command of Cap- tain Manly. On the fifth of September, a committee of Congress was appointed to visit the camp at Cambridge, and confer with the chief magistrates of the northern colonies, and the Council of Massachusetts, on the continuance and regulation of the continental army. The result of their conference was, that the new army should consist of twenty thou sand three hundred seventy-two men, to serve till the last day of Decem- ber, 1776. This short term of enlistment proved a very serious and almost a fatal evil. In the execution of this resolve, Washington called upon the soldiers and officers to make their election, whether to retire or remain with the army. Great difficulties occurred in effecting the re-enlistment. Many were unwilling to continue in the army on any terms; some required leave of absence to visit their families, and others were in doubt, and uncertain what course to pursue. In his general orders, Washington appealed directly to the pride and patriotism of both officers and men " The times," he observed in the orders of October twentieth, " and the importance of the great cause we are engaged in, allow no room for hesi- tation and delay. When life, liberty and property are at stake ; when our country is in danger of being a melancholy scene of bloodshed and deso- lation ; when our towns are laid in ashes, innocent women and children driven from their peaceful habitations, exposed to the rigors of an incle- ment season, to depend, perhaps, on the hand of charity for support; when calamities like these are staring us in the face, and a brutal, savage enemy 2 10 WASHINGTON. threatens us, and every thing we hold dear, with destruction from foreign trooi)s, it little becomes the character of a soldier to shrink from danger, and condition for new terms. It is the general's intention to indulge both officers and soldiers, who compose the new army, with furloughs for a reasonable time ; but this must be done in such a manner as not to injure the service, or weaken the army too much at once." The new regiment did not fill so rapidly as had been expected. The old troops, whose term of service had expired, were eager to return home; the new troops were slow in coming in. From this circumstance, the lines were often in a defenceless state. "It is not," says General Washington, in a communication to Congress, " in the pages of history to furnish a case like ours. To maintain a post within musket shot of the enemy, for six months together, without ammunition, and at the same time to disband one army and recruit another, within that dis- tance of twenty odd British regiments, is more, probably, than ever was attempted." About the middle of February, 177G, the waters about Boston had become sufficiently frozen to bear the troops. Washington was now desirous to execute his plan of attacking the enemy. A council of war was again called, and was again almost unanimous against the measure. It was therefore reluctantly abandoned. The regular force engaged for the year, now amounted to more than fourteen thousand men, and the militia to about six thousand. With these troops, Washington determin- ed to take possession of the heights of Dorchester ; a step which he thought must certainly bring on a general action. To favor the execu- tion of this plan, a heavy bombardment on the town, and lines of the enemy, was conmienced,on the evening of the second of March, and con- tinued on the two succeeding nights. On the night of the fourth, a detachment, under the command of General Thomas, crossed the neck from Roxbury, and took possession of the heights. The ground was deeply frozen, and it was with great labor that the party were able, during the night, to raise works which nearly covered them from the shot of the enemy. The British were very much surprised at the first view of these works, and immediately commenced a tremendous cannonade from their ship- ping in the harbor, and their forts in Boston. This scene has been very vividly described by Dr. Thacher. "Cannon shot are continually rolling and rebounding over the hill ; and it is astonishing to observe how little our soldiers are terrified by them. During the forenoon, we were in momentary expectation of witnessing an awful scene ; nothing less than the carnage of Breed's hill battle was expected. The royal troops are perceived to be in motion, as if embarking to pass the harbor, and land on Dorchester shore, to attack our works. The hills and elevations in this vicinity are covered with spectators to Avitness deeds of horror in the expected conflict. His Excellency, General Washington, is present, ani- nuvting and encouraging the soldiers, and they, in their turn, manifest their joy, and express a warm desire for the approach of the enemy ; each man knows his place, and is resolute to execute his duty." General Howe determined to attack the heights, and ordered three thousand men WASHINGTON. 11 on this service. These were embarked, and fell down to the Castle with the intention of proceeding np the river to the attack, but were dispersed by a tremendous storm. Before they could be in readiness to proceed, the American works were in such a state of security as to discourage any attempt against them. The British now resolved to evacuate Boston as .soon as possible. A paper signed by four of the selectmen was sent out with a flag of truce, containing a proposition, which purported to come from General Howe, that the town should be left uninjured if the troops were allowed to em- bark without molestation. This letter was directed to the commander-in- chief, but did not bear the signature of General Howe. Washington therefore declined taking any notice of it, but at the same time he " inti- mated his good wishes for the security of the town." On the seventeenth, the royal army commenced their embarkation on board of the transports. They were suffered to depart without annoyance. Immediately after their departure, Washington ordered a part of his army to New- York, to defend that town against the expected invasion of the enemy. On entering Boston, the conmiander-in-chief was wel- comed on all sides with the warmest gratulations. Congress passed a vote of thanks, to express the public approbation of his conduct ; and ordered the striking of a medal, with suitable devices, to perpetuate the remembrance of the event. The town had received much less injury than was at fust anticipated. During the siege, the Old South Church, a brick buildincr near the centre of the town, had been converted into a riding school for Burgoyne's dragoons. The pulpit and pews were re- moved, and the floor covered with earth, to make it suitable for exercising their horses upon. A beautiful pew, ornamented with silk and carved work, was broken up, and its pieces taken for a fence to a hog-stye. The North Church was torn down, and consumed for fuel. After providing for the security of Boston, Washington marched with the main army to New- York, and made every preparation for the defence of this very important position. In these labors, the American army was incessantly occupied, until Lord and General Howe arrived at Sandy Hook with their naval and land forces. Before the commencement of hostilities, an attempt was made at negociation. General Howe sent a letter by a flag, directed to " George Washington, Esq." This the general refused to receive, as it did not recognise the public character with which he had been invested by Congress. His conduct on this occasion met with the approbation of this body, and they resolved, " that he had acted with the dignity becoming his character." The British general was very anxious to obtain an interview with the commander-in- chief, but was unwilling to adopt his military address. He accordingly sent Colonel Patterson to the American headquarters, with a letter to " George Washinirton, &c. &c. &lc." The general still declined receiv- OCT' O ing it. He said it was true, the etceteras implied every thing ; they also implied any thing : and a letter directed to a public character should have an address descriptive of that character. Colonel Patterson then said that General Howe would not urge his delicacy any further ; repeating his assertion that not the slightest disre- 12 WASHINGTON. spect was intended in the form of the address. Some conversation ensuea in respect to the treatment of prisoners ; when the colonel observed that Lord and General Howe had been appointed commissioners by the king, and were very desirous of arranging the difficulties that had so unfortu- nately arisen. General Washington observed tliat he was vested with no power of treating upon the subject. He had read the act of parliament, and found Lord and General Howe only authorized to grant pardons. The Americans, having committed no fault, desired no pardon ; they were only defending their rights. Colonel Patterson seemed confused, and said this would open a wide field for argument. After some few remarks, he was invited to a small collation, and introduced to the general officers. With many polite expressions at taking leave, he observed — " Has your Excellency no commands to my Lord or General Howe?" " None, Sir," replied Washington, " but my particular compliments to both of them." On the arrival of General Howe at Staten Island, the American army did not exceed ten thousand men, but before the end of August they amounted to twenty-seven thousand. This force was distributed so judi- ciously, that the enemy were doubtful in what quarter to commence their operations. Every probable point of debarkation was guarded. From the arrival of the army, the Americans were in daily expectation of being at- tacked, and Washington was actively engaged, in preparing their minds for action. In general orders he called upon the officers to be deliberate, and upon the soldiers to be firm, courageous and obedient. He directed tiiat any soldier who deserted his ranks in time of battle should be im- mediately shot down. " The time," he observed, " is now at hand, which nmst probably determine whether Americans are to be freemen or slaves ; whether they are to have any property they can call their own ; whether their houses and farms are to be pillaged and destroyed, and themselves consigned to a state of wretchedness, from which no human efforts will deliver them. The fate of unborn millions will now depend, under God, on the courage and conduct of this army. Our cruel and unrelenting enemy leaves us only the choice of a brave resistance, or the most abject submission. We have to resolve to conquer or die. Our own, our coun- try's honor, call upon us for a vigorous and manly exertion ; and if we now shamefully fail, we shall become infamous to the whole world. Let us then rely on the goodness of our cause, and on the aid of the Supreme Bei'ig. in whose hands victory is, to animate and encourage us to great and !Jol)Ie actions. The eyes of all our countrymen are now upon us, and we shall have their blessings and praises, if happily we are the instruments of saving them from the tyranny meditated against them. Let us therefore animate and encourage each other, and show the whole world, that a freeman, contending for liberty on his own ground, is superior to any slavish mercenary on earth." On the twenty-seventh of August, the enemy attacked the American forces under the command of General Sullivan, on Long Island. The variety of ground and the number of different parties engaged on both sides, occasioned a succession of small engagements, pursuits, and slaughters, which lasted for many hours. The Americans were defeated WASHINGTON. 13 in every quarter. They suffered exceedingly from the want of discipline, and the means of ready transmission of intelligence. The troops retired within their line, discouraged and fatigued, with a victorious army in front, and a powerful fleet about to enter East river, for the purpose of cutting off their retreat. Washington immediately determined to evacuate the island with all his forces. For this purpose, he crossed over to the island on the night of the twenty-ninth, to conduct the retreat in person. It so happened, that, about two o'clock in the morning, a heavy fog enveloped the whole of Long Island. Under this cover, an army of nine thousand men, with their baggage, provision, horses, and military stores, crossed a river more than a mile wide, and landed at New- York with no material loss. It was done in such silence, that the enemy, who were so near that they were heard at work with their pickaxes, knew nothing about the matter, till the clearing up of the fog. In conducting this difficult movement, Washington was incessantly active. For forty-eight hours he did not close his eyes, and much of that time he was on horse- back. Notwithstanding the entreaties of his officers, he remained among the last upon the shore, refusing to embark till he saw his troops safely on board the transports. The unfavorable issue of this engagement led to the most alarming consequences. Hitherto the soldiers had possessed such confidence in themselves and their officers, from being engaged in the cause of their country and liberty, that it outweighed all their apprehensions from the skil! and discipline of the enemy. But on this occasion they found them- selves encompassed h ith difficulties and dangers, from which their valor could not extricate them. They exaggerated the adroitness and military dis- cipliuf of the enemy, and in every movement were apprehensive of some new surprise or skilful stratagem. " Our situation," said Washington in his letter to Congress, " is truly distressing. The check our detachment received on the twenty-seventh ultnno has dispirited too great a propor- tion of our troops, and filled their minds with apprehension and despair. The militia, instead of calling forth their utmost efforts to a brave and manly opposition, in order to repair our losses, are dismayed, intractable, and impatient to return." Wasliington had recourse to entreaty, to persuasion, and to promises, to arrest the progress of these evils. In his communication to Congress, he urged the necessity of making enlistments for a longer period. The de- fence of the public liberties was to be entrusted only to a permanent arm}, regularly disciplined. It reqtiired time to reduce men who had been sulj- ject to no control, to the requisite military strictness. In a few days after tliis remonstrance, Congress resolved to raise eighty-eight battalions to serve during the war. It was important, therefore, to wear away the pre- sent campaign with as little loss as possible, in order to take the field in the ensuing year with a well organized army. The evacuation of New- York was accordingly determined on, as soon as events might make it necessary for the preservation of the troops. W^hile Washington was taking measures to preserve his troops and stores by evacuating the city, the British commander was pursuing his plan of bringing about a general action. On the fourteenth of September, 14 WASHINGTON. General Clinton landed with four thousand men, three miles ahove New- York. This landing was effected under cover of five men of war. Works had been thrown up at this place by the Americans, and they were capa- ble of defence ; but the troops posted there, on the firing of the ships, im- mediately abandoned them. Two brigades were detached from the main body to support them. Washington rode promptly to the scene of action, and to his great mortification found the whole retreating. While attempt- ing to rally them and with some success, they again broke and retreated in great confusion, on the appearance of a very small body of the enemy. At this shameful conduct, Washington entirely lost his self-command. He thought of the ruin, which this miserable cowardice might bring upon the cause in which his whole soul was engaged. In despair he turned liis horse's head towards the enemy, with the intention of seeking an honora- ble death ; and it was only by the friendly violence of his aids that he was compelled to retire, and his life saved for his country. The issue of this day hastened the evacuation of New- York. This was effected with the loss of very few men, though all the heavy artillery, the tents, and most of the military stores, were left behind. The British gene- ral immediately stationed a detachment in the city, and posted his main army in front of the American lines, in encampments across York Island. The flanks of the army from front to rear were protected by the shipping. The strongest post of the Americans was at Kingsbridge, and this post . secured their communication with the country. A detachment was also posted on the heights of Haerlem, within a mile and a half of the enemy. This disposition of the two armies would naturally lead to frequent skir- mishes, and it was on this account very desirable, as it might accustom the undisciplined troops to military service. On the very day after the retreat from New- York, a body of the enemy appeared in the open plain between the two camps. The general detach- ed some troops, under the command of Colonel Knowlton and Major Leitch, to attack them. Afl;er leading their men into action, in the most soldierlike manner, both these officers were brought mortally wounded from the field. Their troops bravely continued the attack, and drove the enemy, though superior in numbers, from their position. The success of this skirmish had a great influence upon the army. In his general orders, Washington applauded the courage of the ofiicers and men on this occasion, and contrasted it with the cowardly conduct of the troops the day before. He called upon the whole army to remember and imitate this brave example. He gave out on the next day " Leitch," for the parole. In filling the vacancy occasioned by the death of the colonel, he observed that " tJie officer succeeded the gallant and brave Colonel Knowlton, who would have been an honor to any country, and who had fallen gloriously fighting at his post." This was the method which he adopted to animate the spirits of the army. General Howe continued to prosecute his scheme for cutting off Washington's communication with the eastern states, and compelling him to a general engagement. Failing however in this design, he adopted a new plan of operations, and directed his attention to the invasion of New-Jersey. Washington penetrated his design, crossed the North river, and wrote to the governor of New-Jersey, WASHINGTON. 15 urging him to put the militia of that state in a condition to defend it. About this time Fort Washington was taken by storm, and the garrison, consisting of more than two thousand men, surrendered themsehes pri- soners of war. The loss on this occasion was very heavy. Tents and military stores were taken by the enemy, which could not be replaced. The conquest of Fort Washington made the immediate evacuation of Fort Lee, on the opposite Jersey shore, a necessary measure. This was effected with little loss of men, but with great loss of baggage and artillery. When General Howe passed into New-Jersey, Washington posted his army along the Hackensack ; and as the British forces advanced, he retreat- ed towards the Delaware. It often happened, that the front guard of one army entered a village, as the rear guard of the other was quitting it at the opposite end. Whenever it could be done with prudence, Washington took a stand and made a show of resistance ; sometimes advancing a small detachment as if to engage the enemy. At Brunswick, Lord and General Howe issued a proclamation as commissioners, commanding all persons in arms against the king to return peaceably to their homes, and offering a full pardon to all who would subscribe a submission to the royal authority. This was the darkest period of the whole war. The American army were reduced in numbers, worn out with fatigue, disheartened by defeat, bare- foot, without tents or clothing, and flying before a numerous and disci- plined body of well armed and well provided troops. A general spirit of despondency prevailed through New-Jersey, and most of the families of fortune and influence were inclined to return to their allegiance to the king. A few, however, maintained their political integrity, and nearly a thousand of the militia of the state bravely kept the field. In the worst of times Congress remained unshaken, roused only to new and more vigo- rous exertions by the public danger. A retreat beyond the Delaware became necessary, and this was eflTected on the eighth of December. The boats on the Jersey shore were all se- cured, the bridges broken down, and parties stationed in such a manner as to guard the different fording places over which it was possible for the enemy to pass. General Howe, after an unsuccessful attempt to obtain boats to pass the river, posted his army in New-Jersey ; intending to wait till the ice should furnish him with a passage to Philadelphia. Durino- this retreat, when affairs were taking their most gloomy aspect, Washing- ton observed to Col. Reed, passing his hand over his throat : " My neck does not feel as if it were made for a halter ; we must retire to Augusta county, in Virginia, and if overpowered, we must pass the Alleghany mountains." On the thirteenth of this month, a disaster of much importance happen- ed in the capture of Major General Lee. While marching at the head of his division to join the main army, he very imprudently took up his lodgings for the night at a house three or four miles distant from his troops. In this situation he was made prisoner, and conveyed to New-York. Such was now the gloomy state of affairs, that the whole country took the alarm ; and strong apprehensions were entertained that the continental army would be entirely broken up. The term of service of many of the troops had nearly expired, and no sufficient number of recruits arrived to 16 WASHINGTON. supply their places. Under all these circumstances of doubt and distress, Washington was undismayed. He remained firm, self-possessed, and serene, omitting nothing that could animate his own soldiers or embarrass the enemy. Laying before Congress the state of the army, he pointed out the impolicy of short enlistments, and urged the establishment of corps of cavalry, artillerists, and engineers. " We find," he observed, "that the enemy are daily gathering strength from the disaffected. This strength, like a snow-ball by rolling, will increase, unless some means can be devised to check, effectually, the progress of the enemy's arms. Militia may possibly do it for a little while ; but in a little while, also, the militia of these states, which have frequently been called upon, will not turn out at call ; or if they do, it will be with so much reluctance and sloth, as to amount to the same thing." He also hinted at the propriety of enlarging his own powers, so as to enable him, in urgent cases, to act without application to Congress, and thus execute important measures in the most effectual manner. " I have no lust," he added, " after power, but wish with as much fervency as any man upon the wide extended continent for an opportunity of turning the sword into the ploughshare. But my feelings as an officer, and a man, have been such as to force me to say, that no person ever had a greater choice of difficulties to contend with than I have." The American forces now amounted to about seven thousand men ; though during their retreat through the Jerseys they seldom amounted to half that number. The two armies were separated by the Delaware. In the security of conquest, the British had cantoned their troops in a very loose and uncovered manner, being in daily expectation to pass over into Pennsylvania by means of the ice, which is generally formed about that time. On receiving information of the number of the different canton- ments, Washington exclaimed, " Now is the time to clip their wings, when they are so spread." He formed the bold design of re-crossing the Delaware, and attacking the British posts on its eastern banks. In the evening of Christmas day, he made arrangements to pass over in three divisions ; two of these parties failed in their attempt from the quan- tity of ice by which their passage was obstructed. The main body, of about two thousand four hundred men, began to cross very early in the evening, during a severe storm of snow and rain. Having landed on the Jersey shore, they had still a march of nine miles before they reached the village of Trenton, where a party of about fifteen hundred Hessians and British light horse was stationed. This party was taken altogether by surprise. A smart firing ensued, but in a few minutes the enemy, finding themselves surrounded, threw down their arms and surrendered. Colonel Rahl, the commanding officer, was mortally wounded ; and of the other otlicers and soldiers nine hundred and forty-eight were taken prisoners. Of the American troops, two privates were killed, an officer and five or six privates wounded, and two frozen to death. On the same day. General Washington recrossed the Delaware with his prisoners, six pieces of ar- tillery, a thousand stand of arms, and some military stores. These being secured, and his men having enjoyed two or three days of rest, he returned, and took possession of Trenton. On the next day Lord Cornwallis moved WASHINGTON. 17 forward with a numerous force, and reached Trenton about four o'clock in the afternoon. General Washington drew up his army behind a creek which runs through the town, and in this position waited for the move- ments of the enemy. After having attempted to cross this creek, and finding the passes guarded, the British general halted his troops, and de- termined to defer the attack till the following morning. The situation of the American troops was critical. Washington called a council of his officers, and laid before them the different plans that they might adopt. A retreat across the Delaware was impracticable, on account of the ice. A defeat, if they risked an engagement, would be entire destruction. It was determined to quit their present position, and get in the rear of the British army at Princeton. On the next morning. Lord Cornwallis discovered that his enemy had disappeared. Soon after dark, Washington had given orders for the re- moval of the baggage to Burlington. Guards were stationed to perform the usual rounds, and to keep the watch fires burning throughout the night. At one o'clock, the army silently left the camp, and gained the rear of the enemy. They reached Princeton early in the morning, and would have completely surprised the British, if they had not been met by an advance of three regiments, which were on their way to join the main army. The centre of the American troops was severely charged by this party, and gave way in disorder. In his effort to rally them. General Mercer was mortally wounded. At this moment, Washington advanced at the head of his troops, and plunged into the hottest fire of the enemy. He was bravely supported by his men, and the British were obliged to retreat. One party of them ffed to the colleges, but after a few discharges from the American fieldpieces, they came out and surrendered them- selves. More than an hundred of the British were left dead upon the battle ground, and three hundred were made prisoners. These victories led to the most important consequences. Philadelphia was saved for the winter ; Jersey was recovered ; and the depressed spirits of the Americans were again revived. The character of the commander- in-chief rose still higher in public estimation ; and the soldiers began to entertain confidence in themselves and each other. After the campaign had been thus carried into the month of January, Washington retired into winter quarters at Morristown. His forces were small in comparison with those of the enemy, but public report had much exaggerated their number, and this deception was carefully continued. The remainder of-. the season passed over in a war of skirmishes, which generally terminated in favor of the Americans. Arranging the army in spring gave the commander-in-chief inconceivable trouble. A difficulty arose in as- sembling the troops from the different states in which they had been enlisted. The state regulations, in respect to pay and bounty, were different, and occasioned petty and vexatious jealousies among the troops. Each state, that conceived itself exposed to invasion, was desirous of retaining a part of its force for its own security. All these embarrass- ments, however, were finally removed by the authority and great personal influence of Washington. The treatment of American prisoners, by the British officers, was a 3 18 WASHINGTON. source of great vexation and difficulty. They were viewed as rebels, and coufuied in prisons with common felons. General Washington had written to General Gage on this subject early in the war. In tliis letter he de- clared the intention to regulate his conduct towards prisoners in his own hands, by the treatment which those should receive in the power of the British general. To this communication an insolent reply was received, in which General Gage retorted the charge, and stated, as a mark of British clemency, that the cord was not applied to their prisoners. Gene- ral Washington rejoined in a manner worthy of his character, with a communication which, he observed, was " to close their correspondence, perhaps forever." In conclusion he remarked, " if your officers, our pri- soners, receive from me a treatment different from what I wished to show them, they and you will remember the occasion of it." Accordingly, all the British officers in his power were put into close jail, and the soldiers were confined in places of security. When Howe succeeded to the com- mand, the treatment of prisoners became more humane on both sides. The capture of General Lee opened new sources of irritation on this subject. As he had formerly been a British officer, General Howe pretended to consider him as a traitor, and at first refused to consider him as a subject of exchange. Congress directed the commander-in-chief to propose to exchange six fieldofficers for General Lee ; and in case of the rejection of this proposal, they resolved that these officers should be closely confined and receive in every respect the treatment that General Lee did. This plan of retaliation Washington considered unjust and impolitic, and he was reluctant to execute it. He remonstrated against it, and Congress eventually adopted the measures he recommended. In the approach of active operations. Congress determined to form an encampment on the western side of Philadelphia. Washington had made his arrangements for the campaign, with the expectation that the British would attempt to obtain possession of Pliiladelphia, or the Highlands on the Hudson. To prevent this, the northern troops were divided between Ticonderoga and Peekskill ; while those from the south were posted at Middlebrook, near the Raritan. This position was fortified by intrench- ments. The force of the Americans, collected at this strong encampment, was nominally between nine and ten thousand men ; but the effective force was about six thousand. A large portion of these consisted of ravv recruits, and a considerable number of those enlisted in the southern states were foreigners. To encourage their desertion. General Howe offered a bounty to every soldier who would come over to his army ; and, to counteract this measure, Washington recommended Congress to grant full pardon to all Americans who would relinquish the British service. On the part of the British, the campaign opened early in June. Their forces advanced toward Philadelphia as far as Somerset County in New- Jersey, but they soon fell back to New-Brunswick. The whole of this month was wasted in alternate advance and retreat, without any deter- minate action. Apprehensive that Sir William Howe would ultimately move up the North river, and that his movements southwardly \vere merely feints, Washington detached a brigade to reinforce the northern division of his army. Further advices favored the idea that a junction of WASHINGTON. 19 the royal armies near Albany was intended ; but still the whole affair was embarrassed, and made doubtful by the future movements. About the middle of August, certain accounts were received that the British had taken possession of the Chesapeake, and landed as near Phila- delphia as was practicable. As soon as this was known, Washington ordered the divisions of his army to unite in the neighborhood of Phila- delphia, and the militia of the surrounding states to take the field. He had previously written very pressing letters to the governors of the eastern states to strengthen the northern army opposed to Burgoyne ; and even detached some of the best of his own forces on that important service. The effective American army did not exceed eleven thousand men. With these troops Washington marched through Philadelphia, that the siglit of them might make an impression on the minds of the wavering and disaffected. The two armies approached each other on the third of September. As the British troops advanced, Sir William Howe endeavored to gain the right wing of the American army. General Washington continued to fall back, until he crossed the Brandy wine river. He here posted his troops on the high ground, near Chadd's Ford. The light corps, under General Maxwell, was advanced in front, and placed on the hills south of the river, in order to assail the enemy if they should approach in that direction. Troops were also posted at a ford two miles below, and at several passes some miles above. The opinion of Congress, and the general wish of the country, made it necessary for Washington to risk a general action at this place. On the morning of the eleventh, the British army advanced in two columns to the attack. One column took the direct road to Chadd's Ford, and soon forced Maxwell's corps to cross the river, with very little loss on either side. General Knyphausen, the commander of this body, continued to parade on the heights, to reconnoitre the American army, and was apparently preparing to attempt the passage of the river. The other column, led by Lord Cornvvallis, moved up on the west side of the Brandy wine, making a circuit of about seventeen miles. On com- ing within view of the American troops, it instantly formed the line of battle, and at about half after four the action began. It was continued with great spirit for some time. The American right first fell into dis- order and gave way. They attempted to rally, but on being vigorously charged by the enemy, again broke. The flight now became common. General Washington, who had hastened towards the scene of action gs soon as the firing commenced, only arrived in season to cover the retreat. When the right wing was engaged with Lord Cornwallis, the works at Chadd's Ford had been assaulted and carried by General Knyphausen. The whole army retreated that night to Chester, and on the next day, to Philadelphia. The Americans lost in this battle about nine hundred men ; three hundred of whom were slain, and the rest wounded and taken prisoners. This defeat occasioned no dejection either among the citi- zens, or in the army. Measures were immediately taken to procure reinforcements. Fifteen hundred men were marched from Peekskill, and large detachments of militia ordered into the field. It was determin- 20 WASHINGTON. ed to risk a second cnf^;i£fcnicnt, for the security of Philade]j)hia. The enemy sonparate. Tlu; retreat of the Americans was now unavoida- l)l(\ 'riu;ir gun locks and cartridge boxes were badly made, and the storm rcndert^l most of the arms unfit for use. The exposure of the army was still greatiM-, from their being entir(>ly destitute of bayonets. NVashington contiiuied his rc^lreat through the day, and most of the night, amidst a very cold storm, and through very bad roads. On a full discovery of llu^ damage that had been done the amnuniition and arms, the general ascendtnl the Schuylkill, and crossed it at Warwick Furnace, that the army might refit their nuiskets and replenish their cartridge boxes. He still resolved to risk a general engagement. Recrossing the Schuylkill at Parker's Ferry, he encamped on the east side, posting de- tacluuents at the dilhMent fords at which the enemy might attempt to force a passage. Instead of urging an action, the British moved raj)idly on (heir march towards Kcading. To save the military stores which had been depositeil in that place, Washington took a new position, and left the enemy in undisturbed possession of the road which led to the city. Sir William Howe availed himself of tliis advantage, and on the twenty- sixth of iUv. mouth entered Philadelphia in triumph. Washington had taken seasonable measures to remove the public stores from the city, and to secure the most necessary articles for the use of the army. Though failing in his plan to save Pluladelphia, he retain- ed the undiminished confidence of the people, and of Congress. Instead of now going into winter quarters, he approached and encamped near the enemy. Four regiments of grenadiers were posted in Philadelphia, and the other corps of the British army were cantoned at Germantown. The fust obj(H't of Sir William Howe was to eilect an open conununication througli the Delaware with the British fleet. General Washington was desirous to cut olV this source of supplies, and erected forts on both banks of this river, near its junction with the Schuylkill, and about seven miles below Pliihulelphia. in the channel between the Ibrts, large pieces of timber strongly framed together and pointed with iron, were sunk in two ranges, to obstruct the passage of the ships. These works were covered by floating batteries and armed ships. A considerable nuud)er of British troops having been despatched to destroy these works, it was thought a favorable time to attack their main body. The American forces now amounted to about eight thousand regular troops and three thousand militia. The plan formed was, to attack the enemy in front and rear at the same time ; and, on the fourth of October, tlie army was moved near the scene of action. The line of WASHINGTON. 21 tlio British encampment crossed Germantown at right ani^h's. At sun- rise, on the next morning, the attack was commenced. The American troojis were at first successfid. T'ley routed the enemy at two diirt-rent quarters, and took a immher of prisoners. But the morning was extreme- ly foggy, and tiie Americans were una!)le to take advantage of theii success. Tliey couhl not perceive the situation of the enemy, nor unthu- stand tlieir own situation. The field was hastily ahandoncnl, and Wash- ington was ohiig(!d to resign a victory of whicii he had thoiiglit liiui.stdf siM-ure. Tii(! loss of the Americans, including the wounded, and four IkukIIumI prisoners, was ahoiit eleven hundr(ul. A retreat was made twenty miles to Perkioming, with the loss of a single piece of artillery. 'J'he plan of the battle of Germantown was judicious, and its com- menc(un(!nt well conducted ; unavoidable; circumstances preventcMl a fortiuiate issue. Congress voted their unanimous thanks " to General Wiishington, for his wise and well concerted attack, and to the oflicers and soldiers of the army, for the bravi; exertions on that occasion." From tile time that the British obtained possession of the city, every aid was given to the forts constructed on the Delaware, to close the naviga- tion of that river. Troops were sent out, to prevent the farmer from carrying |)rovisions to the market, and to cut oPT tlu; foraging parties. Tile Hrilisii soon after iirokc; u|) their encampment at G(Miiiantovvn, con- centrated all their i'orccs at IMiilars strong approhation of the conduct of his troops. Presenting them with a favorable view of their country's situation, he exhorted them to bear with iirumess the sulTorings to which they nnist bo exposed in the po- sition tiiey were about to occupy. Valley Forge, about twenty-tive miles back of Philadelphia, was fixed upon for winter quarters. This position was preferred to distant and more comfortable villages, as it was calculated to i>iv(> the most extensive security to the country. The American army might have been tracked, by the blood of their bare feet, from White Marsh to their new position. They were badly clothed and badly pro- vided with loud. Many were obliged to go almost naked, suflering at the same time from famine. In this situation the men behaved with great for- titude. Tliey felled trees, and built log huts, whicli were covered with straw and earth, and atlbrded but very jioor shelter from the severity of the season. Washington was now obliged to pursue a course, which he adopted with the irreatc^st reluctance. 'J'h<^ army sutfered exceedingly from hunger. It was necessary that they should be allowed to satisfy their wants by force. In obedience to the commands of Congress, the general issued a procla- mation, calling on "the farmers, within seventy miles of headquarters, to thresh out one half of their grain by the tirst of February, and the resi- due by the first of March, under the penalty of having the whole seized as straw." While these transactions had been going on in the middle states, the northern campaign had terminated in the capture of the army of General Burgoyne. This event had very highly raised the reputation of General Gates, tlie commander in that department. The different issue of affairs under GiMieral Washington, afforded the ignorant and discontented an WASHINGTON. 23 occasion to iniiruuir and complain. Several menibeis of Congress, and a few tjenoral otlicors of the army, were engaged in a plan to supplant hiiu in his ollice, and raise General Gates to the chief connnand. In the prosecution of this scheme, every effort was made to injure the character of General AVashington. The conspiracy did not escape his notice ; but love of country was superior to every consideration. He re- pressed his indignation, to prevent nn appearance of disunion and dissen- sion, that miijlit ruin the cause in which he was euijaifed. His iirivate letters at this period exhibit the state of his feelings, and the honorable motives which directed his conduct. In a couHuunication to the President of Congress, Mr. Laurens, he ob- serves upon this subject : — " My enemies take an ungenerous advantage of me. They know the delicacy of my situation, and that motives of po- licy deprive me of the defence I might otherwise make against their in- sidious attacks. They know I cannot cond)at their insinuations, however injurious, witliout disclosing secrets it is of the utmost moment to conceal. But why should I expect to be exempt from censure, the unfailing lot of an elevated station. Merit and talents which I cannot preteuil to rival, have ever been subject to it. My heart tells me it has been my unremitted aim to do the best which circumst.uices would permit; yet I mav have been very often mistaken in my judgment of the means, and may, in many instances, deserve the imputation of error. About this time it was rumored that Washington had determined to resign his coujmand. On this occasion he wrote to a oentleman in New- England as follows : " I can assure you that no person ever heard me drop an expression that had a tendency to resignation. The same princi])les tliat led me to embark in tlie opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain, operate with adtlitional force at this day ; nor is it my tlesire to withdraw my services while they are considered of importance in the pre- sent contest : but to report a design of this kind, is among the acts which those who are endeavoring to etl'ect a change, are practising to bring it to pass. I have said, and I still do say, that there is not an ollicer in the service of the United States, that would return to the sw-eets of domestic lite with more heart-felt joy than I should. But I would have this decla- ration accompanied by these sentiments, that while the public are satis- fied with my endeavors, I mean not to shrink from the cause. But the moment her voice, not that of fiiction, calls upon me to resign, I shall do it with as much pleasure as ever the wearied traveller retired to rest." Washington now devoted himself to preparations for an active cam- paign in 1T78. He labored to convince Conirres's of the necessity of en- listing a regular army, at least equal to that of the enemy. Congress deputed a committee from their body to reside in the camp, and act in concert with the conuuauder-in-chief, in reforming the condition of the forces. This committee repaired to Valley Forge in January, 1778. Washington laid before them a minute view of the army, in which he minutely pointed out what he deemed necessary for the correction of abuses, and for the advancement of the service. He recommended, "as essentially necessary, that, in addition to present compensation, provision should be made by half pay, and a pensionary establishment, for the future 24 WASHINGTON, support of the ofTiccrs, so as to rondor their commissions valuable." He ])ointed out " the insufficiency of their pay (especially in its present state of depreciation) for their decent subsistence ; the sacrifices they had al- ready made, and the unreasonableness of expecting that they would con- tinue patiently to bear such an over proportion of the common calamities growing out of the necessary war, in which all were equally interested ; the many resignations that had already taken place, and the probability that more woidd follow, to the great injury of the service ; the impossi- bility of keeping u[) a strict discipline among officers whose commissions, in a pecuniary view, were so far from being worth holding, that they were the means of impoverishing them." These and other weighty considera- tions were accompanied by a declaration from Washington, " that he neither could nor would receive the smallest benefit from the proposed establishment, and that he had no other inducement in urging it, but a full conviction of its utility and propriety." Congress acted upon the proposed refoims with a general concurrence of sentiment, but before the army could receive the benefit of them, their distresses had reached tiie most alarming height. Of seventeen thousand men m the camp, but five thousand were able to discharge eflfective duty. Several times during the winter, they experienced little less than famine ; and a total dissolution of the army was often threatened in consequence. " It was on this occasion," observes in. Thacher, " that a foreigner of distinction said to a friend of mine, that he despaired of our indepentlence; for while walking with General Washington along the soldiers' huts, he heard from many voices echoing through the open crevices between the logs, * )io pay, no c/othcs, no provisions, no rum,' and when a miserable being wus seen ffitting from one hut to another, his nakedness was only covered by a dirty blanket. It will be difficult to form a just conception of the emotions of grief iind sorrow, which must have harrowed up tiie soul of our illustrious patriot and philanthropist. In this darkening hour of adversity, any man who possesses less firmness than Washington, would despair of our independence." It was at this period that the British government were disposed to make conciliatory proposals. The first certain intelligence of these offers was received by Washington in a letter from the British governor of New- York, enclosing the proposals, and recommending " that they should be circulated by General Washington among the officers and privates of his army." These proposals were immediately forwarded to Congress, and on the day after their rejection an order was adopted, in which it was urged upon the different states to pardon, under certain limitations, such of their misguided citizens as had levied war ajrainst the United States. This resolution was transmitted to the British Governor, with a request, by way of retort, that he would circulate it among the Americans in the British army. The proposals of the British government had been made in consequence of a treaty which had just been concluded between France and the United States. Sir William Howe had resigned the command of the British army, and was succeeded by Sir Henry Clinton. This officer received immediate orders to evacuate Philadelphia. Washington was uncertain what course WASHINGTON. 25 he would probably pursue. Deciding on a march to New- York, the British general crossed the Delaware about the middle of June. When this was known, a council of war was immediately called in the Ameri- can camp. There was a great difference of opinions. Since the recent alliance with France, independence was considered secure, unless the army should be defeated. Under such circumstances a general engage- ment was not to be hazarded, without a Hiir prospect of success. This was the opinion of a majority of tlie general officers. Washington, how- ever, was very desirous to risk an action. When Sir Henry Clinton had advanced to Allentown, instead of pur- suinjT the direct course to Staten Island, he drew towards the sea coast. On learning that he was marching in this direction, towards Monmouth court-house, Washington sent Brigadier Wayne with a thousand men to reinforce his advanced troops. The command of this body was offered to General Lee, who in the exchange of prisoners had been restored to the army. This officer was opposed to any engagement with the enemy at that time, and declined the service. It was accordingly given to the Marquis de La Fayette. The whole army followed at a proper distance for supporting the ad- vanced corps, and reached Cranberry the next morning. Washington increased his advanced corps with two brigades, and sent General Lee, who was now desirous of assuming the command, to take charge of the whole, and followed with the main army to give it support. On the next morning, orders were sent to Lee to move forward and attack the enemy, unless there should be very strong objections to the measure. When Washington had marched about five miles to support the advance corps, he found it retreating, by Lee's orders, and without having offered any opposition. lie immediately rode up to Lee and requested an explana- tion ; the reply was unsuitable and insolent. Orders were then given to form on a piece of ground which seemed to offer advantages as a position to check the enemy. Lee was asked if he would command on that ground ; he consented, and replied " your orders shall be obeyed, and I will not be the first to leave the field." Washington returned to the main army, which was soon formed for action. After several unsuccessful movements of the British troops, they retired and took the ground that had been before occupied by General Lee. Washington determined to attack them, and ordered two detach- ments to move round, upon their right and left; sides. They did not ar- rive at their ground in season to commence the attack that night. They remained in that position till morning. General Washington reposing on his cloak under a tree in the midst of his troops. Before dawn, the British moved away in great silence. Nothing was known of their march till the next day. They left behind four officers, and forty privates, so severely wounded that it was not safe to remove them. Including prisoners, the whole loss of the British army was about three hundred and fifty. They pursued their march to Sandy Hook without farther interruption and without any loss of baffsawe. The Americans lost about two hundred and fifty men. Declining pursuit of the royal troops, they retired to the borders of the North river. 4 26 WASHINGTON. Shortly after the action, Congress resolved on a vote of thanks to Gene- ral Washington, lor th(! activity with vvliich he niarciied from tlie camp at Valley Forge in pursJiit of the enemy ; for his distingnished exertions in formin": the line of battle ; and for his great good comhict in leading on the attack, and gaining the important victory of JMonmouth. General Lee followed np his passionate language on the day of the battle, by writ- ing two violent hnters to Washington, which occasioned his being arrested anil brought to trial. After a protractcnj hearing before a court-martial, of which Lord Stirling was president, L^ was found guiUy, and sentenced to be suspended from any command in the armies of the United States for the term of cmu^ year. Soon after the battle of Monmouth, tiie American army took post at the White Plains, and remained there and in the vicinity till autumn was far advanct'd, and tlien retired to Middlebrook, in New Jersey. During this perioil, nothing occurred of greater importance than an occasional skirmish. The French lleet arrived too late to attack the British in the Delaware. It was determined, therefore, that a joint expedition, with the sea and land forc(\s, sliould be made against the IJritish ])osts in Rhode Island. General Sullivan was appointed to the conduct of the American troops ; Count D'Estaing commanded the French fleet. The preparations for commencing tiie attack had been nearly completed, when a British ileet appeared in siglit. The French connnander immediately put out to sea, to come to an engagement. A violent storm arose, and injured both fleets to such an extent, that it was necessary for the one to sail for Boston, and the other to New-York, to relit. General Sullivan had counnenced the siege, in the expectation of being shortly seconded by tiie French fleet. The detern\ination of D'Estaing to return to Boston excited general alarm. It left the liarbors of Rhode Island open for rcMulbrccments to the JJritish, from their heaiKiuarters in New-York. The very safety of the American army was endangered by it. Every elVort was made to induce the French commander to change his intentions, but without eilect. This atl'air produceil a great deal of discontent and irritation, among the American oflicers, and was likely to lead to very serious ditliculties. With his usual prudence and good judgment. General Washington exerted his influence to quiet the wounded feelings of both parties. lie was powerfully assisted in this attempt, by the Marquis de La Fayette, who was very much beloved by the Americans as well as the French, and gladly rendered his services to bring about a reconciliation. AVashiuiiton wrote on the subject to the several general oflicers of his army, and took the first opportunity of recounnencing his correspondence with Count D'Estaing. His letter toi)k no notice of the angry dispute that had occurred, and good humor and cordial good-will were speedily restored. With the battle of Monmouth, active operations closed in the middle states. On the ai>proach of winter, the American army went into quarters in the neighborhood of the Highlands. Being better clothed and better fed than in the preceding winter, their situation was greatly ameliorated. At the close of 1778, except the possession of New- York by the British, tlie local situation of the hostile cirmies did not much WASHINGTON. 27 difTor from lliat of tlio commcncemont of the campaign of 177C. " It is not a little pleasing," observed Washington in a letter to a friend, " nor less wonderful to contemplate, that after two years' mancenvring, and undergoing the strangest vicissitudes, both armies are brouglit iiack to the very point they set out from, and the offendiug party in the beginning is now reduced to the use of the pickaxe and the sjjade for defence. The hand of Providence has been .so conspicuous in all this, that he must be worse than an infidel that lacks faith, and more than wicked that has not gratitude to acknowledge his obligations." In the last months of the year 1778, when the active operations of the campaign were over, Congress decided on a magnificent plan for the conquest of Canada. This plan was to be carried into effect by the joint operations of distinct detachments of Americans, acting in diffc^rent points, and co-operating with a French fleet and army on the river St. Lawrence. The scheme was not communicated to Washington, till it had been adopted by Congress. lie was then consulted, and recpiested to write to Dr. Franklin, then minister at Paris, to interest him in securing the proposed co-operation of France. Doubtful of the success of the operation, even with the assi.stance of the French, Wasiiington was urgent to obtain its rejection. Congress persisted in the measure, and a committee of their body was chosen to confer with the general on this business, and on the state of the army. His objections were then found to be insurmountable, and the expedition was laid aside. The alliance with France had seemed to many to secure »our independence. It was supposed that Great Britain would despair of final success, and relinquish farther prosecution of the war. Washington was very busy in opposing the progress of this dangc^rous dcdusion. In his correspondence with members of Congress, and influential men throughout the state, he represented the fallacy of this opinion, and the impolicy of indulging it. tie was anxious that early and vigorous measures sliould be taken for the next campaign. Yet it was not till the twenty-third of January, 1779, that Congress pas.sed resolutions for re-enlisting the army; and not till the ninth of March, that the states were called upon to furnish their proportion of the general forces. This state of affairs greatly alarmed Washington, and his appreht-'usions at the time may be gathered from the following extract of a letter to one of his confidential friends. " To me it appears no unjust simile, to compare the affairs of this great continent to tlie mechanism of a clock, each state representing some one or other of the small parts of it, which they are endeavoring to put in fine order, without considering how useless and unavailing then lalior is, iniless the great wheel, or spring, which is to set the whole in motion, is also well attended to and kept in good order. I allude to no particular state, nor do I mean to cast reflections upon any one of them, nor ought 1, as it may be said, to do so upon their representatives; but as it is a fact too notorious to be concealed, that Congress is rent by party; that much business of a trifling nature and personal concernment withdraws their attentif)n from matters of great national moment, at tliis critical period ; when it is also knovv'n that idleness and dissipation take place of close attention and application; no man who wishes well to the liberties of his 28 WASHINGTON. country, and desires to see its rights established, can avoid crying out — Where are our men of abilities 1 Why do they not come forth to save their country ? Let this voice, my dear sir, call upon you, Jefferson, and others. Do not, from a mistaken opinion that we are to sit down under our own vine and our own figtree, let our hitherto noble struggle end in ignominy. Believe me, when I tell you, there is danger of it. I have pretty good reasons for thinking that the administration, a little while ago, had resolved to give the matter up, and negotiate a peace with us upon almost any terms ; but I shall be much mistaken, if they do not now, from the present state of our currency, dissensions, and other circumstances, push matters to the utmost extremity. Nothing, I am sure, will prevent it, but the interruption of Spain, and their disappointed hope from Prussia." The depreciation of the paper currency had so reduced the pay of the American officers, as to render it inadequate to their support. This led to serious troubles and discontents. Early in May, the Jersey brigade was ordered to march by regiments to join the western army. In answer to this order, a letter was received from General Maxwell, stating that the ofHcers of the first regiment had addressed a remonstrance to the legislature of the state, in which they professed a determination to resign their commissions, unless that body immediately attended to their pay and support. General Washington knew the sufferings to which the army had been exposed, and the virtue and firmness with which they had supported them. He knew the truth and justice of the complaints now made by the Jersey regiment ; but saw and felt the evils that would result from the measures they had adopted. Relying on their patriotism and personal attachment to himself, he immediately wrote to General Maxwell a letter to be communicated to the officers. In this address, he adopted the language of a friend as w^ell as of an of- ficer. He acknowledged the inconvenience and distress to which the army were exposed ; and expressed the hope that they had done him the justice to believe, that he had been incessant in endeavors to procure them relief The limited resources of the government were mentioned, and their embarrassment in procuring money. He then alluded to the pro- gress of the cause, the probability of soon attaining the object of their struggles, and the meanness of a shameful desertion, and forgetfulhess of ■what was due to their country. " Did I suppose it possible," he observed, " this could be the case, even in a single regiment of the army, I should be mortified and chagrined beyond expression. I should feel it as a wound given to my own honor, which I consider as embarked with that of the army at large. But this I believe to be impossible. Any corps that was about to set an example of the kind, would w'eigh well the consequences ; and no officer of common discernment and sensibility would hazard them. If they should .stand alone in it, independent of other consequences, what would be their feelings, on reflecting that they had held themselves out to the world in a point of light inferior to the rest of the army. Or if their example should be followed, and become general, how could they console themselves for having been the foremost in bringing ruin and disgrace upon their country. They would remember, that the army would share a WASHINGTON. 29 double portion of the general infamy and distress, and that the character of an American officer would become as despicable as it is now glorious." The officers did not expressly recede from their claims, but they were prevailed upon by the representations of the letter to continue in service. In an address to General Washington, they expressed regret that any act of theirs should have given him pain, and proceeded to justify the measures they had taken. They stated that their repeated memorials to the legislature had been neglected, and that they had lost all confidence in that body. " Few of us," they said, " have private fortunes ; many have families who already are suffisring every thing that can be received from an ungrateful country. Are we, then, to suffer all the inconveniences, fatigues, and dangers of a military life, while our wives and our children are perishing for want of common necessaries at home ; and that without the most distant prospect of reward, for our pay is now only nominal ? We are sensible that your Excellency cannot wish or desire this from us. " We beg leave to assure your Excellency, that we have the highest sense of your ability and virtues ; that executing your orders has ever given us pleasure ; that we love the service, and we love our country ; but when that country is so lost to virtue and to justice as to forget to support its servants, it then becomes their duty to retire from its service." Washington, with his usual prudence, resolved to take no further notice of this address, than to notify the officers through General Maxwell, that, as long as they continued to do their duty, he should only regret the step they had taken, and hope that they themselves would perceive its impro- priety. The occasion was a favorable one for the commander-in-chief, to urge upon Congress the necessity of making suitable provision in behalf of his officers. " The distresses in some corps," he observed, " are so great, either where they were not until lately attached to any particular . tate, or where the state has been less provident, that officers have solicited even to be supplied with the clothing destined for the common soldiers, oarse and unsuitable as it was. I had not power to comply with the equest. The patience of men, animated by a sense of duty and honor, ill support them to a certain point, beyond which it will not go. I doubt ')t Congress will be sensible of the danger of an extreme in this respect, ■ id will pardon my anxiety to obviate it." The legislature of New-Jersey ere alarmed, and at length induced to notice the situation of their _)ldiers ; the remonstrance was withdrawn, and the officers continued to jrform their duty as usual. The American army, in these years, was destitute, not only of food, •ut of clothing. The seasons of 1779 and 1780, were unfruitful ; the abors of the farmers had been interrupted by the calls of war ; paper aoney was no equivalent, in its present value, for the produce of the soil; and, consequently, no provisions could be obtained but by measures f compulsion. The soldiers were demanding food, the inhabitants de- . landed protection, and, distracted by the wrongs of the one, and the vants of the other, Washington was in a state of the deepest embarrass- aent and anxiety. At length, even force began to fail ; the neighboring ountry was drained of all its produce, and absolute famine appeared to hreaten the army. In this situation, the conduct of the conmiander-in- 30 WASHINGTON. chief was of the most prudent, wise, and conciliating character ; and i« i was indeed a crisis which called for all his address, popularity, and firm- ' ness, to carry him through it. He succeeded in keeping the army to- gether, and in retaining, not only their approbation, but that of his fellow citizens. i The effective force of Sir Henry Clinton, in 1779, strongly fortified f in New-York and Rhode Island, amounted to about sixteen thousand five hundred men ; that of the Americans did not exceed thirteen thou- | sand. The British were supported by a powerful fleet, which enabled I them to move with expedition and facility, and when on the Hudson, to I concentrate their forces on either side of it. West Point was the chief post of the Americans, on this river ; and the preservation of this place and its dependencies, was an object of primary importance. For this purpose, Washington concentrated his forces here, and all the effcjrts of the British to allure him from this position by attacking and burning the towns on the coast of Connecticut, proved unavailing. The American army limited its operations to securing the passes of the North river, and protecting the country as far as was consistent with this important object. I While the British devastations were going on, Washington planned an expedition against Stony Point, a bold hill, projecting into the Hudson, on the top of which a fort had been erected and garrisoned by six hun- dred men. The enterprise was entrusted to General Wayne, and was completely successfiil. It was soon followed by the surprise of the British garrison at Paules Hook, concluded on the eighteenth of August, by Major Henry Lee. With three hundred soldiers, he entered the fort about three o'cJock in the morning, and, with very inconsiderable loss, carried away one hundred and fifty-nine prisoners. It was thought desirable to avoid all hazardous movements, from the expected arrival of a French fleet, with which the army might success- fully co-operate. This fleet, under Count D'Estaing, reached the vicinity of Georgia, with a body of troops, and, in conjunction with the southern army, under General Lincoln, made an attack on the British post at Savannah. The united forces were led to the lines of the enemy with great valor and firmness, but after standing a very severe fire for about an hour, they were repulsed with loss. The campaign terminated in the northern states without any decisive efforts on either side. The British attempts upon the posts in the High- lands had been defeated. The Indians had been reduced to peace by an expedition sent against them, under the command of General Sulli- van. Wmter quarters for the American army were chosen at Morris- town. On their march to this place, and after their arrival, they suffered exceedingly. The snow was two feet deep, and the soldiers were desti- tute, both of tents and blankets, some of them barefooted and almost naked. At night, their only defence against the weather, was in piles of brushwood. After reaching the place that had been cliosen for winter quarters, they found it very diflicult to pitch their tents in the frozen ground. They built up large fires, but could hardly keep from freezing. Besides the sufferings fronj cold, they were without necessary food. For seven or eight days together, they had no other provision than miserable fresh beef, without bread, salt, or vegetables. WASHINGTON. 31 The weather in January, 1780, was remarkably cold and severe. On the third of the month, there was a most violent snow storm. Several of the marquees were blown down over the ofRcers' heads, and some of the soldiers were actually buried under the snow in their tents. The officers of the army had a sufficient supply of straw, over which they could spread their blankets, and, with their clothes and large fires, keep themselves from extreme suffering. But the common soldiers on duty, during all the violence of the storm, and at night, with but a single blan- ket, were exposed to great distress. They were so enfeebled by cold and hunger, as to be unable to labor in the erection of their log huts. The sufferings of the soldiers, from the unusual severity of the winter, and the privation of food, were extremely severe; but though desertions were frequent, not a single mutiny was excited. Notwithstanding the situa- tion of his army, Washington was active in seeking opportunities for a flivorable attack ; and planned an expedition against the British works on Staten Island. A detachment of twenty-five hundred men, under the command of Lord Stirling, was despatched on this service. The party passed over from Elizabetlitown, at night, on the ice. The British troops, however, had received intelligence of their design, and withdrawn into their fortifications. All the benefit of the expedition con- sisted in procuring a quantity of blankets and military stores, with a iew casks of wine and spirits. The snow was three or four feet deep, and the troops remained on the island twenty-four hours without covering ; about five hundred of them were slightly frozen, and six were killed ; the retreat was effected with no other loss. Soon after this event, Washington received intelligence of the loss of Charleston, and the surrender of that detachment of the southern army, under General Lincoln. When the news of this disaster reached the northern states, the American army was in the greatest distress. The officers had been for some time dissatisfied with their situation ; they had been exposed to great distress, and had made great sacrifices, for small wages, paid with no punctuality. The paper money had dimi- nished so much in value, that it was difficult to procure supplies with it, even at the reduced rates. Forty dollars in these bills were worth less than one dollar in silver. A number of officers were compelled, by necessity, to give up their commissions. General Washington was un- wearied in his efforts to procure from Congress a more generous provi- sion for them, and at length succeeded. The disaffection of the troops at length broke out into actual mutiny. Two of the Connecticut regiments paraded under arms, announcing their intention of returning home, or obtaining a subsistence by their arms. By the prudent and spirited conduct of their officers, however, the ringleaders were secured, and the regiments brought back to their uuty. Soon after the surrender of the southern army, the commanding officer of the enemy, in New- York, thought to take advantage of the discontent and distress prevailing among the northern troops. General Knyphausen crossed over from Staten Island with about five thousand men. Orders were immediately given in the American camps, to be in readiness to march at a moment's notice. The enemy advanced to Springfield, and 32 WASHINGTON. set fire to the village ; burning the church, and twenty or thirty dwellings houses. They then made a rapid retreat to Staten Island. The object of this expedition was supposed to have been the destruction of the stores at Morristown. The first months in the year were spent in these desul- tory operations. No disposition to give up the contest, was produced in the north, by the disasters in the south ; but the weakness of the govern- ment, and the depreciation of the paper currency, deprived Washington of all power to act on the offensive. When affairs were in this condition, the Marquis de La Fayette arrived from France, with the assurance that the French army and fleet might soon be expected upon our coast. This roused the Americans from their lethargy, and Washington was very active in his extensive correspond- ence through the states, to stimulate the public mind to the exertions the crisis demanded. The resolutions of Congress were slowly executed, and from the want of their efficient assistance, the operations of Wash- ington were very much embarrassed. Some relief was obtained from private sources, and the citizens of Philadelphia formed an association to procure a supply of necessaries for the suffering soldiers. In a few days, the sum of three hundred thousand dollars was subscribed, for this purpose, and converted into a bank, from which great advantages were derived. The ladies of that city, also made large donations for the im- mediate relief of the soldiers ; but large as all these supplies were, they fell far short of the wants of the army. On the tenth of July, the expected allies arrived on the coast of Rhode Island. Their fleet consisted of seven sail of the line, five frigates, and five smaller vessels ; their army amounted to six thousand men. So tardy had been the arrangements for raising the American army, that their force at this time did not amount to one thousand men. Trusting, however, that the promised support would be forwarded with all possible despatch, Washington sent proposals to the French commander for com- mencing the siege of New- York. " Pressed on all sides," he observed in a letter to Congress, " by a choice of difficulties, in a moment which required decision, I have adopted that line of conduct, which comported with the dignity and faith of Congress, the reputation of these states, and the honor of our arms. I have sent on definitive proposals of co-opera- tion to the French general and admiral. Neither the period of the season, nor a regard to decency would permit delay. The die is cast ; and it remains with the states, either to fulfil their engagements, preserve their credit, and support their independence, or to involve us in disgrace and defeat. * * * If we fail for want of proper exertions in any of the governments, I trust the responsibility will fall where it ought, and that 1 shall stand justified to Congress, my country, and the world." The fifth of August was fixed upon, as the day when the united armies were to commence operations. Sir Henry Clinton, who had returned the preceding month, with his victorious troops from Charleston, had embarked about eight thousand men, with the apparent intention of attacking the French force at Rhode Island. Washington put his army in motion, and crossed the Hudson, to besiege New-York during his absence. The enemy were alarmed at the danger of this city, and WASHINGTON 33 returned to defend it. The American army recrossed the Hudson to the Jersey shore. This passage was made in boats and floats, and occu- pied three days and nights. The designs on New- York were only sus- pended, not entirely abandoned; and VVashington had a personal inter- view on this subject, with the French commander, at Hartford, But the arrival of Admiral Rodney, with eleven ships of the line, upon the American coast, disarranged the plans of the allies, and no expedition of the kind could be undertaken during the present campaign. At this time, Washington wrote thus in a letter to a friend : "We are now drawing to a close an inactive campaign, the beginning of which appeared pregnant with events of a very favorable complexion. I hoped, but I hoped in vain, that a prospect was opening, which would enable me to fix a period to my military pursuits, apd restore me to domestic life. The favorable disposition of Spain ; the promised succor from France ; the condnned force in the West Indies ; the declaration of Russia, (acceded to by other powers of Europe, humiliating the naval pride and power of Great Britain ;) the superiority of France and Spain by sea, in Europe ; the Irish claims, and English disturbances, formed in the aggregate, an opinion in my breast, (which is not very suscep- tible of peaceful dreams,) that the hour of deliverance was not far distant : for that, however unwilling Great Britain n)ight be to yield the point, it would not be in her power to continue the contest. But alas! these prospects, flattering, as they were, have proved delusory; and I see nothing before us but accumulating distress. We have been half our time without provisions, and are likely to continue so. We have no magazines, nor money to form them. We have lived upon expedients until we can live no longer. In a word, the history of the war is a history of false hopes and temporary devices, instead of system and economy. It is in vain, however, to look back, nor is it our business to do so. Our case is not desperate, if virtue exists in the people, and there is wisdom among our rulers. But, to suppose that this great revolution can be accomplished by a temporary army ; that this army will be sub- sisted by state supplies ; and that taxation filone is adequate to our wants, is, in my opinion, absurd." At a period when the resources of the country were almost exhausted, and countless troubles and embarrassments surrounded Washina;ton. treason entered the camp of the Americans, and had nearly strangled their infant liberties. Benedict Arnold had been regarded from the commencement of the American war, as a brave and patriotic officer. He had fought in several battles, with great valor and gallantry, and ac- quired the entire confidence of his countrymen. His services had been rewarded by promotion, to the rank of major general. At his own re- quest and solicitation, he was entrusted with the command of West Point. Partly from motives of avarice, and partly from feelings of re- venge, for some public censures, he had received from the government, he determined to deliver this post into the hands of the enemy. He entered into a secret correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, and actual- ly agreed to put him in possession of the garrison. The British general readily consented to the treachery, and selected Major John Andre, his 5 34 WASHINGTON. adjufant, frciieial and aid-do-camp, to liavo a personal interview with Arnold, and arrange the phm for tlic surrender of the post. A Uritisli sloop of war, called the Vulture, sailed up the North river, and anchored about twelve miles below West Point. On board of this vessel was Major Andre, under the assumed name of John Anderson. The parties could now communicate with each other, without exciting suspicions of any treasonable designs. But a personal interview bccclme at length necessary, and the place chosen for this purpose was the beach, near the house of Mr. Joshua Smith, who had long been suspected of favoring the British cause. Arnold now sent a boat to bring Andre on shore. This was unexpected to the British officer, but he was vmwilling that the enterprise should fail, through any fault upon his part. Putting on a grey surtout, to hide his uniform, he accompanied the messenger of Arnold to the shore. After conversing some time at the water's edge, they went to the house of Smith for greater security. Andre remained concealed here till the following night, when he became anxious to return on board the Vulture, and went alone to the beach, where he expected to find a boat to convey him to this vessel. During his visit to the shore, however, the Vulture had been driven from her station, and had removed some miles farther down the river. When Andre proposed to the boat- men to carry him back to the vessel, they told him that it was too far, and refused to go. It being impossible to procure a boat and men for the purpose, it was resolved that Andre should return to New- York by land. For this dangerous attempt, he laid aside his uniform altogether, and put on another dress. Arnold furnished him with a horse, and accom- panied by Smith, he set out upon his journey. Each of them had a passport from Arnold — "to go to the lines on White Plains, or lower, if the bearer thought proper; he being on public business." By means of these passports, they got beyond all 'the American outposts and guards, without being suspected. They lodged together on the night of their departure at Crompond. They arrived without interruption, a little beyond Pine's Bridge, a village situated on the Croton. They had not yet crossed the lines, though they were in sight of the ground occupied by the British troops. Smith here looked round, and seeing no one, and no sign of danger, he said to Andre — "You are safe — good by," and retook the road by which they had come. Andre put spurs to his horse, and supposing himself out of danger, rode forward at full speed to deliver the favorable result of his mission. He had jiro- ceeded about a dozen miles with the same good fortune. He was about entering Tarrytown, the border village that separated him from the royal army, when a man sprung suddenly from a thicket, and exclaimed, "where arc you bound?" This man was armed with a gun, and was immediately joined by two armed companions. They were not in uni- form, and Andre supposed at once they must be of his own party. In- stead of producing his passport, he asked them in his turn, where they belonged. They replied, " to below," alluding to New- York. " And so do I," said Andre, "I am a British officer, on urgent business, and must not be detained." " You belong to our enemies," was the reply, " and we arrest you." WASHINGTON. 35 Andre was surprised at this unexpected language, presented his pass- port, but this paper only served to render his case more suspicious, when considered in connexion with his confessions. He offered them gold, his horse, and promised large rewards, and permanent provision from the English government, if they would let him escape. They refused all his offers, and proceeding to search him, they found in his boots, in the handwriting of Arnold, exact returns of the state of the forces, ordnance, and defences of West Point, with many other important papers. No longer in doubt, they carried him at once before Colonel Jameson, who commanded the outposts. Andre retained his self-possession, and still passing under his assumed name, requested permission to write to Ar- nold, to inform him that his messenger was detained. Jameson thought it more simple to order him to be conducted to Arnold, and was already on his way for that purpose, when the suspicious circumstances of the case induced him to change his mind; and sending in all haste after the pretended Anderson, had him conveyed under guard to Old Salem. He despatched at the same time an express to Washington, containing an account of the affair, with the draughts and other papers taken from the prisoner. But the commander-in-chief, who set out on the same day, the twenty-third of September, to return to his army, had pursued a different route from that by which he went to Hartford, and the messenger was compelled to retrace his steps without having seen him. This delay proved the salvation of Arnold. Jameson began to regard his suspicions of Arnold as unjust and un- worthy, and wrote him that Anderson, the bearer of his passport, had been arrested. Arnold was busy with his arrangements for the reception of the enemy, when he received the letter from Jameson. Those who were present at the time, afterwards recollected that he was very much dismayed and agitated. Recovering himself quickly, he said in a loud voice that he would write an answer, and withdrew to reflect upon the course which it was best for him to pursue. The entrance of two Ame- rican officers interrupted his reflections. They were sent by the com- mander-in-chief, and informed Arnold that he had arrived within a few leagues of West Point, and was to have set out a iow hours after them, to complete his journey. The traitor had now no safety but in immedi- ate flight. Concealing his emotions, he told the two officers that he wished to go and meet the general alone, and begged them not to follow him. He then entered the apartment of his wife, exclaiming — " All is discovered; Andre is a prisoner; the commander-in-chief will know eve- ry thing. Burn all my papers — I fly to New-York." Leaving his wife, without waiting for a reply, he mounted the horse of one of the two officers, and rushed towards the Hudson. Here he had taken care to have always ready a barge well manned. He threw him- self into it, and ordered the boatmen to make for the English sloop with all possible despatch. The barge, bearing a flag of truce, was in sight when Washington arrived. The officers related to hfm what had hap- pened. Arnold had absconded, and no one knew how to account for it. The commander-in-chief instantly repaired to the fort of W^est Point, but he could learn nothing there. He returned to the house of General Ar- 36 WASHINGTON. nold, where the messenger of Jameson presented himself, and delivered the packet with which he was charged. Washington seemed for a few moments overwhelmed by the enormity of the crime. Those who were near him waited silently, but impatiently, for the result. He at length said — " I thought that an officer of courage and ability, who had often shed his blood for his country, was entitled to confidence, and I gave him mine. I am convinced now, and for the rest of my life, that we should never trust those who are wanting in probity, whatever abilities they may possess. — Arnold has betrayed us." Major Andre was conducted to West Point, and afterwards to headquarters at Tappan. A court-martial was here instituted, and this unfortunate officer was condemned to death. General Washington was now called upon to discharge a duty from which he revolted, and it is said that his hand could hardly command his pen, when siffnins the warrant for the execution. But the laws and usages of war required that Andre should die, and he accordingly perished on the scaffold. The treason of Arnold, the capture of Andre, together with private intelligence received from New- York, induced General Washincrton to believe that other officers in his army were connected with the late con- spiracy. This belief gave him great uneasiness. The moment he reached the army, then encamped at Tappan, under the command of Major Gene- ral Greene, he sent to request an interview with Major Lee. This officer immediately repaired to headquarters, and found the general in his marquee alone, busily engaged in writing. As soon as Lee entered, he was requested to take a seat, and a bundle of papers, lying on the table, was given to him for perusal. Tn these much information was detailed, tendmg to prove that Arnold was not alone in treachery, but that the poison had spread, and that a Major General, whose name was not concealed, was certainly as guilty as Arnold himself This officer had enjoyed, without interruption, the complete confidence of the commander- in-chief The only reason for suspicion rested on the intelligence deriv- ed from papers before him. Major Lee immediately suggested that the whole was a contrivance of Sir Henry Clinton, to destroy the necessary confidence between the commander and his officers. This sugcrestion had occurred to the mind of Washington ; but he was still anxious and distrustful. Deeply agitated, as was plainly shown by his tone and countenance, the general proceeded : " I have sent for you, in the expec- tation that you have in your corps individuals capable and willing to undertake an indispensable, delicate, and hazardous project. Whoever comes forward will oblige me forever, and, in behalf of the United States, I will reward him amply. No time is to be lost. My object is to probe to the bottom the afflicting intelligence contained in the papers you have just read ; to seize Arnold, and, by getting him, to save Andre. They are all connected. My instructions are ready ; here are two letters to be delivered as ordered, and some guineas for expenses." Major Lee replied that he had no doubt his legion contained many individuals capable of the most daring enterprises. There were some feelings of delicacy that prevented him from suggesting the step to a commissioned officer, but he thought the sergeant major of the cavalry in WASHINGTON. 37 all respects qualified for the undertaking, and to him he would venture to propose it. He then described the sergeant, as a native of Loudon county, in Virginia, about twenty-four years of age, rather above the common $ize, full of bone and muscle, grave and inflexible. He had enlisted in 1776, and was as likely to reject a service coupled with ignominy as any officer in the corps. The general exclaimed that he was the very man for the business ; that he must undertake it; that going to the enemy at the request of his officer was not desertion, though it appeared to be so. He enjoined that this explanation should be impressed upon Champe, as coming from him, and that the vast good in prospect should be contrasted with the mere semblance of doing wrong. This he hoped would remove every scruple. Major Lee assured the general, that every exertion should be used on his part to execute his wishes, and, taking leave, returned to the cnm.p of the light corps, which he reached about eight o'clock at night. He sent instantly for the sergeant major, and introduced the subject in as judicious a manner as possible. Dressing out the enterprise in brilliant colors, he finally removed all scruples from the honorable mind of Champe, and prevailed on him to yield entirely to his wishes. The instructions were then read to him. He was particularly cautioned to be careful in deliver- ing his letters, and urged to bear constantly in mind that Arnold was not to be killed under any circumstances, but only to be taken prisoner. — Giving the sergeant three guineas, he recommended him to start without delay, and enjoined him to communicate his arrival in New- York as soon thereafter as might be practicable. Pulling out his watch, Champe reminded the major of the necessity of holding back pursuit, as he should be obliged to go in a zigzag direction in order to avoid the patroles. It was now nearly eleven; the sergeant returned to camp, and, taking his cloak, valise, and orderly book, drew his horse from the picket, and, mounting, committed himself to fortune. Within half an hour, Captain Carnes, the officer of the day, waited on the major, and told him that one of the patrol had fiillen in with a dragoon, who, on being challenged, had put spurs to his horse, and escaped. Major Lee contrived various expedients to delay sending a party in pursuit ; but it was finally despatched, under the command of cornet Middleton. When Middleton departed, it was only a few minutes past twelve, so that Champe had only the start of about an hour. Lee was very anxious, not only from fear that Ciiampe might be injured, but that the enterprise might be delayed. The pursuing party were delayed by necessary halts to examine the road. A shower had fallen soon after Champe's departure, which enabled them to take the trail of his horse, as no other animal had passed along the road since the rain. When the day broke, Middleton was no longer obliged to halt, but passed on with great rapidity. As the pursuing party reached the top of a hill on the north of the village of Bergen, they descried Champe not more than half a mile in front. The sergeant at the same moment discovered them, and gave the spurs to his horse. He eluded them, just as they felt secure of taking him, and again disappeared. Pursuit was renewed, and Champe was again descried. He had changed his original intention of going directly to Paules Hook, 38 WASHINGTON. aiul detcnnincd to sock refuge from two British galleys, which lay a few miles to the west of Bergen. As soon as Cliampe got abreast of the galleys, he dismounted, and ran through the marsh to the river. lie had previously prepared himself for swimuiiug, by lashing his valise on his shoulders, and throwing away the scabbard of his sword. The pursuit was so close and rapid, that the stop occasioned by these preparations for swiinming had brought Middleton widiin two or three hundred yards. The sergeant plunged into the water, and called upon tlie galleys for help. They sent a boat to meet him ; he was taken on board, and conveyed to New- York, with a letter from the captain of the galley, who had witnessed the whole of the scene. The horse, with his eciuipnients, the sergeant's cloak and sword scabbard, were tak(Mi by the pursuing party. About three o'clock in the evening they returned, and (he soldiers, seeing the horse, made the air resound witli cries that the scoundrel was killed. Called by this heart rending annunciation frouj his tent, Major Lee began to reproach himself with the blood of the faithful and intrepid Chauipe. He was relieved by Middle- ton's information, that the sergeant had made his escape. The command- er-in-chief was sensibly allected by the perilous adventures of Champe, aud anticipated the confidence that would follow (he enemy's knowledge of its manner. Champe was conducted to Sir Henry Clinton, who, after a long conv(^rsa(ion, presiMited him wi(h a couple of guineas, and recom- mended him (o call on General Arnold, who was eni2;ai2;ed in raisinur an American legion m the service of his majesty. Arnold exi)ressed much satisfaction on hearing froui Champe the manner of his escape, and the iutluence which he attributed (o his own example, and concluded his nutnerous inquiries by assigning him quarters. Champe now turned his attention to the delivery of his letters, which he was unable to elfect till the next night, and then only to one of the parties. This man received the sergeant with extreme attention, and assured him that he might rely on his prompt assistance in any thing that WASHINGTON. 89 fXjiild be prudently undertaken. The sole object in which the aid of tliid individual was required, was in regard to the general and others of the army, implicated in the information sent by him to Washington. This object he promised to enter upon with zeal. Five days had elapsed after reaching New- York, before Champc saw the confidant to whom only the attempt against Arnold was to be entrusted. This person entered at once into his design, and promised to procure a suitable associate. The com- plete innocence of the suspected general was soon established. Andre had confessed the character in which he stood, disdaining to defend himself by the shadow of a falsehood. He had been condemned as a spy, and had suffered accordingly. Nothing now remained to be done by Champe but the seizure and safe delivery of Arnold. To this object he gave his undivided attention, and Major Lee received from him the complete outlines of his plan on the nineteenth of October. Ten days elapsed before Champc brought his measures to a conclusion, when Lee was presented with his final commu- nication, appointing the third subsequent night for a party of dragoons to meet him at Hoboken, when he hoped to deliver Arnold to the oflicer. Champe had been improving every opportunity to become acquainted with the habits of the general, lie discovered that it was his custom to return home at about twelve every night, and that, previous to going to bed, he always visited the garden. During this visit, the conspirators were to seize him, niid, being prepared vvitii a gag, were to apply it instantly. Adjoin- ing tlie house in which Arnold resided, and in which it was intended to seize and gag him, Champe had taken off several of the palings, and so replaced them tliat he could easily open his way to the adjoining alley. Into this alley he meant to have conveyed his prisoner, with the assistance of a single companion. Another associate was to be prepared with a boat to receive them at one of the wharves on the Hudson. Champe and his friend intended to have placed themselves each under Arnold's shoulder, and to have thus borne him through the most unfre- quented alleys and streets to the boats. H" questioned, they were to represent him as a drunken soldier whom they were conveying to the guard house. The day arrived, and Lee, with a party of dragoons, left camp late in the evening, with three led accoutred horses, one for Arnold, one for the sergeant, and the third for his associate, never doubting the success of the enterprise. The party reached Hoboken about midnight. Hour after hour passed; no boat approached. At length the day broke, and the major, with his party, returned to camp. Washington was much chagrined at the issue, and apprehensive that the sergeant had been detected in his dangerous enterprise. ■ It so happened that on the very day preceding the night fixed for the plot, Arnold had removed his quarters to another part of" the town, to superintend the embarkation of Bome troops. The American legion had been transferred from their barracks to one of the transports, so that Champe, instead of crossing the Hudson that night, was safely deposited on board one of the ves.sels of the fleet, whence he never departed till the troops under Arnold landed in Virginia. It was some time before he was able to escape from the British ; when he deserted, and, proceeding high up into Virginia, passed into 40 WASHINGTON. North Carolina, and safely joined the army. His appearance excited great surprise among his former comrades, which was not a little in- creased when tliey saw the cordial reception he met with from the then Lieutenant Colonel Lee. His whole story soon hecame known to the corps, and excited universal admiration. Champe w'as introduced to General Greene, who cheerfully complied with certain promises that had been made to him by the counnander-in-chief He was provided with a good horse and money lor his journey to headquarters. Washington treated him munificently, and presented him with his discharge from further service, lest, in tlie vicissitudes of war, he should fall into the hands of tlie enemy, and die upon a gibbet. The campaign of this year ended with no very decided efforts, and the army went into winter quarters. On the first night of the new year a very serious mutiny broke out among the troops at JMorristown. A preconcerted signal having been given, the whole line, except three regiments, paraded under arms without their officers, marched to the magazines, supplied themselves with provisions and ammunition, and seizing six fieldpieces, took horses from General Wayne's stable to transport them. The mutineers then ordered the party who opposed them to come over instantly or they should be bayoneted, and the com- mand was obeyed. General Wayne endeavored to interpose his influence ajid authority, but to no purpose ; on his cocking a pistol, they presented their bayonets to his breast and said, " We love and respect you; ollen have you led us into the field of battle, but we are no longer under your command ; we warn you to be on your guard ; if you fire your pistols, or attempt to enforce your commands, we shall put you instantly to death." GtMieral Wayne reasoned and expostulated with them to no purpose ; they enumerated their grievances, and determined to march to Philadelphia and demand of Congress the justice that had so long been denied to them. This transaction terminated successfially for the insurgents; they even- tually accomplished their views. Washington was for from being pleased at the issue of this affair, and determined to adopt more severe and decisive measures in future. A revolt shortly after broke out in another regiment, and he at once ordered a detachment of five hundred men to march and reduce them to duty. This party was placed under the command of Major General Robert Howe. On the twenty-seventh of January, about daylight, this detach- ment arrived within sight of the huts of the insurgents. Here they were halted, and received orders to load their arms. General Howe then addressed them, representing the enormity of the crime of the mutineers, and adding that no terms could be made with them till they were brought to entire submission. The troops were then directed to surround the huts on all sides. He then ordered his aid-de-camp to command the mutineers to appear in front of their huts, unarmed, within five minutes. A second messenger was sent, and they immediately formed as they were directed. Being thus overpowered, the mutineers quietly submitted to their fate. General Howe ordered that three of the ringleaders should be selected for iunnediate punishuient. Tiiese wretched men were tried on the spot, by a court-martial standing in the snow, and were sentenced to WASHINGTON 41 be shot. Twelve of the most guilty mutineers were now chosen to be their executioners. Two of these offenders were shot, and the third pardoned. The terror of this scene produced a very powerful effect upon the guilty soldiers. They asked pardon of their officers, and promised a faithful discharge of duty for the future. On the first of May, 1781, Washington commenced a military journal, in which he makes a brief summary of the wants and prospects of the army. " Instead of having magazines filled with provisions, we have u scanty pittance scattered here and there in the distant states. Instead of having our arsenals well supplied with military stores, they are poorly provided and the workmen all leaving them. Instead of having the various articles of field equipage in readiness, the quartermaster is but now applying to the several states to provide these things for their troops respectively. Instead of having a regular system of transportation estab- lished upon credit, or funds in the quartermaster's hands to defray the contingent expenses thereof, we have neither the one nor the other ; and all that business, or a great part of it, being done by impressment, we are daily and hourly oppressing the people, souring their tempers, and alien- ating their affections. Instead of having the regiments completed agreea- ble to the re([uisitions of Congress, scarce any state in the Union has at this hour one eighth part of its quota in the field, and there is little prospect of ever getting more than half In a word, instead of having any thing in readiness to take the field, we have nothing : and instead of having the prospect of a glorious offensive campaign before us, we have a bewildered and gloomy prospect of a defensive one ; unless we should receive a powerful aid of ships, troops, and money, from our generous allies, and these at present are too contingent to build upon." While the Americans were laboring under the embarrassments and troubles which introduced the year 1781, the enemy were laying plans for more extensive operations than they had hitherto attempted. Their ])revious policy had been concentration, but events seemed to indicate that division would be more successful, by enabling them to make an imj)ression on several points at the same time. In this campaign they carried on the war, not only in the vicinity of their headquarters at New- York, but in Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, and in Virginia. Of course, the commander-in-chief could have no immediate agency in the southern department ; he deemed it of more importance to remain on the Hudson, not only to secure tlie most important post in the United States, but to concert the operations which resulted in the termination of the war. While the British were in the Potomac, they sent a flag on shore at Mount Vernon, requiring a supply of fresh provisions. To prevent the destruction of property which would follow a refusal, the person who had the management of the estate complied with this request, and requested that the buildings might be spared. For this Washington severely repri- manded him : " It would have been a less painful circumstance to me to have heard, that, in consequence of your noncompliance with the request of the British, they had burned my house, and laid my plantation in ruins. You ought to have considered yourself as my representative, and should have reflected on the bad example of communicating with the enemy, and 6 42 WASHINGTON making a voluntary offer of refreshment to them, with a view to prevent a conflagration." It was at this period that Washington received intelligence that the French Government had loaned to the United States the sum of six millions of livres, and had resolved to equip a fleet to co-operate with the land force of the Americans. In conformity with this arrangement, M. de Grasse sailed from Brest in March, and, after some preliminary movements in the V/est Indies, arrived in the Chesapeake on the thirtieth of August. Here he was soon joined by the French fleet from Rhode Island. The plan of operation had been so well digested, and was so well executed, that Washington and Count Rochambeau had passed the British headquarters at New- York, and were considerably advanced in their way to Yorktown, before Count de Grasse had reached the American coast. The first determination of Washington had been to attack New- York, but the arrival of the additional fleet induced him to change his operations, and to march to Virginia and lay siege to the post of Lord Cornwallis at Yorktown. This expedition Washington had determined to command in person, and had advanced as far as Chester, when he received the news of the arrival of the fleet commanded by M. de Grasse. He immediately visited the count, attended by several of the general officers of the French and American armies. A plan of operations was then agreed upon, and the combined forces proceeded on their way to Yorktown. In this place. Lord Cornwallis, with the royal army, had constructed strong fortifications. It is a little village, on the south bank of the river York, about fifteen miles from its entrance into Chesapeake • Bay. The British forces amounted to seven thousand men ; the allied army to about twelve thousand. The works erected for the security of the town were redoubts and batteries, and every effort was made to strengthen them. On the first of October, the allied armies had made some progress in the siege. They had compelled the British to abandon several of their redoubts, and retire within the town. During a severe cannonade from the enemy, while the Rev. Mr. Evans was standing near the commander-in-chief, a shot struck the ground so near as to cover his hat with sand. Being much agitated, he took off his hat, and said, "See here, general." "Mr. Evans," replied Washington with his usual composure, " you had better carry that heme, and show it to your wife and children." The American troops labored for a number of days, with incessant activity, in digging trenches and erecting batteries. Two or three batteries having been prepared to open upon the town, General Washing- ton put the match to the first gun, and a furious discharge of cannon and mortars immediately followed. From the tenth to the fifteenth of the month, a severe and continual firing was kept up by the allied armies. The enemy returned the fire with little effect. During this period, a shell from the French battery set fire to a forty-four gun ship, and two or three smaller vessels in the river. It was in the night time, and presented a splendid spectacle. The fire spread all over the ships, running about the rigging to the tops of the masts, and casting a broad and bright flame over the waters. This dreadful scene, in the darkness of night, amid the roar of cannon and bursting of shells, must have been brilliant and sublime. WASHINGTON. 43 A fine description of this siege is given by Dr. Thatcher. " Being in the trenches," he observes, " every other night and day, I have a fine opportunity of witnessing the sublime and stupendous scene which is continually exhibiting. The bomb shells from the besiegers and the besieged are incessantly crossing each others' path in the air. They are clearly visible in the form of a black ball in the day, but in the night they appear like a fiery meteor with a blazing tail, most beautifully brilliant, ascending majestically from the mortar to a certain altitude, and gradu- ally descending to the spot where they are destined to execute their work of destruction." After carrying on this kind of warfare for a number of days, the American general determined to take possession of two redoubts about three hundred yards in front of the principal works of the enemy, and which presented formidable impediments to their approaches. These redoubts were both assaulted at the same time ; one by a brigade of American troops under the command of the Marquis de La Fayette, and the other by a French detachment under the Baron de Viomenil. The assault commenced at eight o'clock in the evening, and was soon suc- cessfully concluded ; the Americans losing but a very few men, and the French a considerable number. The reason of this difference in the loss of men was, that the Americans, in coming to the abatis, tore away a part of it, and leapt over the remainder. The French, however, waited till their pioneers had cut away the abatis according to rule, being exposed, meanwhile, to a severe fire from the enemy. When the marquis entered the works, he sent his aid. Major Barbour, through a terrible fire of the enemy, to inform Baron Viomenil, " that he was in his redoubt, and to ask the baron where he was." The messenger found the French troops clearing away the abatis, but the baron sent back this answer — "Tell the marquis I am not in mine, but will be in five minutes." He advanced, and entered the works within his time. During the assault, the British kept up a very severe and incessant fire of musketry and cannon. Washington and the generals Lincoln and Knox, with their aids, were standing in an exposed situation, waiting the 44 WASHINGTON. result. One of Washington's aids, solicitous for his safety, said to him, " Sir, you are too much exposed here ; had you not better step a little back 1" " Colonel Cobb," replied the general, " if you are afraid, you have liberty to step back." On the seventeenth of the month, Lord Cornwallis was reduced to the necessity of sending out a flag, to request a cessation of hostilities for twenty-four hours. Two or three flags passed in the course of the day, and at length a suspension of hostilities for two hours was resolved upon. At an early hour in the forenoon of the eighteenth, Washington communicated to the British commander the basis of the terms of capitu- lation to which he would consent. A sufficient time was allowed for reply. Two officers were then selected from each army to meet, and prepare the particular articles of agreement. These were arranged, and confirmed by the commanders-in-chief On the nineteenth of October, preparations were made to receive the British general and his soldiers prisoners of war. The terms of capitulation were similar to those granted to General Lincoln, at Charleston. At about twelve o'clock, the allied armies were arranged, and drawn up in two lines, extending more than a mile in length. The Americans, with General AVashington at their head, occupied the right side of the road ; the French, with Count Rochambeau, occupied the left. The French troops were in complete and beautiful uniform, and presented a very military and noble appearance. The Americans were not dressed so neatly, but their air was martial, their step lightened, and their countenance animated with joy. Great crowds were collected from the neighboring villages to witness the ceremony. At about two o'clock, the captive army advanced through the lines formed to receive them. It was expected that Lord Cornwallis would be at their head, but he pretended indisposition, and made General O'Hara his substitute. This officer was followed by the conquered troops, with shouldered arms, colors cased, and drums beating a slow and solemn march. Having arrived at the head of the line, General O'Hara advanced to Washington, and apologized for the absence of Lord Cornwallis. The commander-in-chief courteously pointed to General Lincoln for directions. WASHINGTON. 45 This officer conducted the British army into a large field, where they were to crround their arms. This was a severe trial for the disciplined and haucrhty soldiers of England. It was a great mortification to yield to raw continentals, and to the Yankee general whom they had ridiculed in their farces. Some of the platoon officers were weak enough to make no secret of their chagrin and ill temper. After having grounded their arms, and taken off" their accoutrements, the captives were reconducted to Yorktown, and put under guard. In his general orders on the next day, Washington expressed his warmest thanks to the soldiers and officers of the combined army for their brave conduct during the siege. Wishing that every heart should share in the general joy, he gave orders that all in confinement or under arrest should be at once pardoned and set at liberty. The troops were immediately employed in embarking the artillery and military stores on board of transports for the North river. Lord Cornwallis and his officers received every civility and attention from the American generals, that it was in their power to bestow. General Washington and Count Rocham- beau frequently invited them to entertainments, and they expressed grateful acknowledgments of their hospitality. On one occasion, when Cornwallis, in the presence of the commander-in-chief, was standing with his head uncovered, Washington politely said to him, " My lord, you had better be covered from the cold." " It matters little, sir," replied Cornwallis, " what becomes of this head noiv." An anecdote has been told of Washington, which reflects as much credit upon his delicacy of feeling, as the event to which it relates does upon his military skill. After the surrended of the town, when the British soldiers were marching forth from the garrison to deliver up their arms, the commander-in-chief thus addressed the division of the array to which he was attached : " My brave fellows, let no sensation of satisfaction for the triumphs you have gained, induce you to insult your fallen enemy — let no shouting, no clamorous huzzaing increase their mortification. It is sufficient that we witness their humiliation. Posterity will huzza for us." When Congress received the letter from Washington, that announced the surrender of the British army, they determined to go in procession, at two o'clock, to the Dutch Lutheran church, and return thanks to Heaven for the success of the allied forces. They issued a proclamation for observing, throughout the United States, the thirteenth of December as a day of thanksgiving and prayer. They also resolved to erect in Yorktown a marble column adorned with emblems of the alliance between the United States and his most Christian Majesty of France, and inscribed with a brief narrative of the surrender of the British army. Two stands of colors, taken from the enemy at the capitulation, were presented to General Washington by Congress, in the name of the United States. Two pieces of field ordnance, taken at the same time, by a resolve of Congress were presented to Count Rochambeau. On these a few words were engraved, expressing that the gift was made in consideration of the part which this officer had borne in effecting the surrender. After the capture of Cornwallis, Washington, with the greater part of his army, returned to the vicinity of New- York. Though complete success 46 WASHINGTON. had been attained in Virginia, and great advantages in the Carolinas, the commander-in-chief urged immediate preparations for another campaign. He was afraid that Congress would think the work so nearly done, as to relax their efforts in raising the requisite number of troops. In a letter to General Greene, he observed, " I shall attempt to stimulate Congress to the best improvement of our late success, by taking the most vigorous and effectual measures to be ready for an early and decisive campaign the next year. My greatest fear is, that, viewing this stroke in a point of light which may too much magnify its importance, they may think our work too nearly closed, and fall into a state of languor and relaxation. To prevent this error, I shall employ every means in my power, and, if unhappily we sink into this fatal mistake, no part of the blame shall be mine." The military establishment for 1782 was passed with great celerity, and the attention of Washington was incessantly occupied with the plan of dislodging the British from their strong holds of New-York and Charleston. While he was concerting measures with a view to co-operate with the French for this purpose, intelligence arrived that the discontinuance of the war had been moved and debated in the British parliament. Early in May, Sir Guy Carleton, the successor of Sir Henry Clinton as com- mander-in-chief of the British forces in Am.erica, arrived in New- York, and announced in successive communications the increased probability of a speedy peace. The expected approach of peace relaxed the efforts of the states, and it was impossible to procure funds for the pay and subsistence of the troops. In a letter to the Secretary of War, Washington observed — " I cannot help fearing the result of reducing the army, where I see such a number of men, goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on the past, and of anticipation on the future, about to be turned into the world, soured by penury and what they call the ingratitude of the public; involved in debts without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the flower of their days and many of them their patrimonies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country, and having suffered every thing which human nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. I repeat it, when I reflect on these irritable circumstances, I cannot avoid apprehending that a train of evils will follow, of a very serious and distressing nature." These apprehensions were well founded ; and when the army retired into winter quarters, Washington remained in the camp to watch and control the discontents of the soldiers, though there was no probability of any military operations to require his presence. During the whole campaign of this year, not a gun had been fired between the two armies. Nothing had been decided by Congress, in respect to the claims of the soldiers, when news arrived, in March, 1783, that Great Britain had acknowledged the independence of the United States in the preceding November. This intelligence spread around an universal joy. The army exulted with the rest of their fellow-citizens, but their gladness was clouded with fears of injustice in their country. They thought their prospect of compensation diminished with the necessity of their services. Petitions had been presented to Congress in respect to the pay of officers, WASHINGTON. 47 but the objects which they solicited were not obtained. Under these circumstances, anonymous addresses were circulated in the army, which produced the most violent excitement. Every indication was given of a storm that would destroy the peace of the country, and its new liberties. A paper had been privately handed about, calling a meeting of the officers on the next day. It was an occasion that demanded all the wisdom and influence of Washington. He accordingly noticed the anonymous summons in general orders, and requested a meeting, nominally for the same purpose, four days later. In the mean time, sending for the officers one after ano- ther, he enlarged upon the fatal consequences that would result from the adoption of any violent measures. His unwearied efforts were used to quiet the agitation. When the officers assembled, Washington arose to address them. Finding his eyesight fail him, he observed — " My eyes have grown dim in my country's service, but I never doubted of its justice." He then delivered a very interesting and feeling address. After commenting fully upon the anonymous papers that had been circulated in the camp, he entreated the officers to rely on the justice and good faith of Congress. " Let me request you," he observed, "to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions which were published to you two days ago ; and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their power to render ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you in the name of our common country, as you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floods of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood. By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes ; you will defeat the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice. You will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings ; and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to mankind, — ' Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.'" Having finished his eloquent and powerful address, his Excellency withdrew, and the convention unanimously resolved to present him their thanks, and assure him " that the officers reciprocate his affectionate expressions with the greatest sincerity of which the human heart is capable." General Knox, Colonel Brooks, and Captain Howard were then appointed a committee, to prepare resolutions expressive of the business of the convention, and to report in half an hour. These reso- lutions professed an undiminished attachment to the liberties of their ccjuntry, and an unshaken confidence in the justice of Congress. The 48 WASHINGTON. result of these proceedings was communicated, by the commander-in- chief, to Congress, accompanied by an impressive letter. "If the whole army," he observes in the course of it, " have not merited whatever a grateful people can bestow, then have I been beguiled by prejudice, and built opinion on the basis of error. If this country should not in the event perform every thing which has been requested in the late memorials to Congress, then will my belief become vain, and the hope that has been excited, void of foundation. * * * But I am under no such appre- hension. A country rescued by their arms from impending ruin, will never leave unpaid the debt of gratitude." Congress at length came to resolutions, in which they expressed a desire to gratify the reasonable expectations of the officers of the army, and remove all objections which might exist in any part of the United States to the principles of the half pay, which had been pledged to them. They commuted the half pay for life to full pay for the space of five years, at the option of the parties interested. The commander-in-chief thus addressed the army on the cessation of hostilities, in April : " The commander-in-chief orders the cessation of hostilities, between the United States of America and the king of Great Britain, to be publicly proclaimed to-morrow at twelve o'clock, at the New Building; and that the proclamation which will be communicated herewith be read to-morrow evening, at the head of every regiment and corps of the army; after which, the chaplains, with the several brigadrs, will render thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his overruling the wrath of man to his own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations." The reduction of the army had been resolved by Congress, but it was a difficult measure, and required deliberation. To avoid the inconvenience of dismissing a great number of soldiers in a body, furloughs were freely granted on the application of individuals, and, after their dispersion, they were not enjoined to return. In this manner a great part of an unpaid army was dispersed over the states, without tumult or disorder. While the troops under the immediate command of Washington mani- fested the utmost good conduct, a mutiny broke out among some new levies stationed at Lancaster, in Pennsylvania. About eighty soldiers, in defiance of their officers, marched to Philadelphia, to seek a redress of their alleged grievances from the executive council of the state. They proceeded to the barracks in the city, where some other soldiers were quartered, who joined them. The whole body amounted to about three hundred. On the following day, the insurgents, with drums beating and fixed bayonets, marched to the State-house, the seat of Congress and of the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania. They placed sentinels at every door, sent in a written message to the president and council, and threatened to break in upon them, if their demands were not granted within twenty minutes. No further insult was offered to Congress, but they were confined in this manner for about three hours. Congress resolved that the authority of the United States had been grossly insulted by the armed soldiers, and it was determined that a committee of their body should confer with the executive council, and if it should appear to WASHINGTON. 49 the committee, that the state of Pennsylvania ought not to take measures to support the dignity of the federal government, the president should summon the Congress to meet on Thursday, the twenty-sixth, at Princeton or Trenton. The Secretary of War was also directed to communicate to the commander-in-chief the state and disposition of the mutineers. On receiving information of this disgraceful outrage, Washington im- mediately despatched Major General Howe, with fifteen hundred men, to quell the mutineers, and punish the most guilty of them. Before his arrival, however, they had dispersed without bloodshed. Several were brought to trial, two were condemned to death, and four others to receive corporal punishment. On this occasion, General Washington addressed the president of Congress in very feeling and eloquent language : "While I suffer the most poignant distress in observing that a handful of men, contemptible in numbers, and equally so in point of service, if the veteran troops from the southward have not been seduced by their example, and who are not worthy to be called soldiers, should disgrace themselves and their country, as the Pennsylvania mutineers have done, by insulting the sovereign authority of the United States and that of their own; I feel an inexpressible satisfaction, that even this behavior cannot stain the name of the American soldiery. It cannot be imputable to, or reflect dishonor on, the army at large, but, on the contrary, it will, by the striking contrast it exhibits, hold up to public view the other troops in the most advantageous point of light. On taking all the circumstances into consideration, I cannot sufficiently express my surprise and indigna- tion at the arrogance, the folly, and the wickedness of the mutineers; nor can I sufficiently admire the fidelity, the bravery and patriotism which must forever signalize the unsullied character of the other corps of our army. For when we consider that these Pennsylvania levies, who have now mutinied, are recruits, and soldiers of a day, who have not borne the heat and burden of war, and who can have in reality very few hardships to complain of; and when we at the same time recollect that those soldiers, who have lately been furloughed from this army, are the veterans who have patiently endured hunger, nakedness, and cold ; who have suffered and bled without a murmur, and who, with perfect good order, have retired to their homes, without a settlement of their accounts, or a farthing of money in their pockets, — we shall be as much astonish- ed at the virtues of the latter, as we are struck with horror and detes- tation at the proceedings of the former." On the second of November, 1783, General Washington issued his farewell orders to the armies of the United States. After noticing a recent proclamation of Congress, he observed that it only remained to address himself for the last time to the armies of the United States, and to bid them an affectionate farewell. He remarked upon the circum- stances under which the war was begun ; the signal interpositions of Providence in their behalf; and their unparalleled perseverance through eight years of every possible suffering and discouragement. His closing words were — " Your general being now to conclude these his last public orders, to take his ultimate leave, in a short time, of the military charac- 50 WASHINGTON. ter, and to bid adieu to the armies he has so long had the honor to command, he can only again offer in their behalf his recommendations to their grateful country, and his prayers to the God of armies. May ample justice be done to them here, and may the choicest of Heaven's favors, both here and hereafter, attend those, who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for others ! With these wishes, and this benediction, the commander-in-chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the military scene, to him, will be closed forever." The treaty of peace was signed on the twenty-third of September, and a proclamation was issued by Congress to disband the army. Painful indeed, was the parting. The old soldiers, who had been sharers for seven years in privation and suffering, were to separate under circum- stances of the most distressing character. They were poor, without money or employment, and many with no other prospect than that of painful dependence or miserable penury. Though their whole military life had been a scene of want and wretchedness, it had sometimes been chequered with splendid triumphs, or at any rate had been throughout supported by an anxious excitement. That excitement was now past, for the object of their labors and sacrifices, the liberty of their common country, had been obtained. The glorious hope, that gleamed continual- ly before their eyes in the battles of the revolution, had been changed into a glorious certainty, by the declaration of peace • and now that the wrongs and sufferings of their country had been vindicated, their thoughts were naturally concentrated upon their individual fortunes. There were sorrow and suffering, want and wretchedness, but no tumult, no mutiny, no disorder. They would not end a succession of generous sacrifices by a violation of their faith and their duty ; but de- termined to abandon their rights, rather than resort to force to recover them. The British army evacuated New- York in November, and the Ameri- can troops, under General Knox, took possession of the city. Soon after, General Washington and Governor Clinton, with their suite, made their public entry into the city on s horseback, followed by a procession of civil and military officers, and a large number of citizens. General festivity reigned throughout the city, and the governor made a public dinner. This was followed, a day or two afterwards, by an elegant entertain- ment, given by the governor to the French ambassador, the Chevalier de la Luzerne. General Washington, the principal officers of New- York state, and of the army, and upwards of a hundred other gentlemen, were present. On Tuesday noon, the fourth of December, the principal officers of the army assembled at Francis's tavern, to take a final leave of their beloved commander-in-chief When Washington entered the room, his emotions were too strong to be repressed or concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to the surrounding officers and said — " With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable." Having drank, he added, " I cannot come WASHINGTON. 51 to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take me by the hand." General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Washington, in tears, grasped his hand, embraced and kissed him. In the same manner he took leave of each succeedingr officer, Lincoln, and Greene, and La Fayette, and the other valiant men with whom he had been connected in hours of peril and darkness, to be rewarded with endless gratitude and glory. Every eye was moistened with tears. Not a word was spoken to inter- rupt the silent solemnity of the parting. Leaving the room, Washington passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to Whitehall, where a coach was in waiting to receive him. The whole company fol- lowed in mute procession, with sad and dejected countenances. On entering the barge, he turned to his companions, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent farewell. They paid him a similar mark of respect and affection, and, when they could no longer distinguish in the barge the person of their beloved commander, returned, in the same solemn manner, to the place where they had first assembled. On the disbanding of the army, Washington proceeded to Annapolis, then the seat of Congress, to resign his commission. On his way thither, he delivered to the comptroller of accounts, at Philadelphia, an account of his receipts and expenditures of public money. The whole amount that had passed through his hands, was only .£14,479 18s. 9d. ster- linsr. Nothing was charged or retained for his own services. The resignation of his command was made in a public audience. Congress received him as the guardian of his country and her liberties. He appeared there under the most affecting circumstances. The battles of a glorious war had been fought, since he first appeared before them to accept, with a becoming modesty, the command of their armies. Now the eyes of a whole nation were upon him, and the voices of a liberated people proclaimed him their preserver. 52 WASHINGTON. His resignation was communicated, in the following address, to the President of Congress : "Mr. President, " The great events on which my resignation depended, having at length taken place, I have now the honor of offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service of my country. "Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with diffidence ; a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of Heaven. "While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I should do injustice to my own feelings, not to acknowledge, in this place, the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the persons who have been attached to my person during the war. It was impossible the choice of confidential officers, to compose my family, should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend, in particular, those who have continued in the service to the present moment, as worthy of the favora- ble notice and patronage of Congress. " I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last solemn act of my official life, by commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping. "Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action ; and, bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body, under whose orders I have long acted, I here offer my commission, and take leave of all the employments of public life." This address being ended, General Washington advanced, and deliver- ed his commission into the hands of the President of Congress, who received it and made an appropriate reply. Having thus, of his own accord, become one of the people, the American chief hastened to his delightful residence at Mount Vernon. The feelings and emotions of Washington, on thus going into retire- ment, were expressed in the following manner: " I feel as a wearied traveller must do, who, afler treading many a painful step with a heavy burden on his shoulders, is eased of the latter, having reached the haven to which all the former were directed, and from his house-top is looking back and tracing, with an eager eye, the meanders by which he escaped the quicksands and mire which lay in his way, and into which none but the All- Powerful Guide and Dispenser of human events could have prevented his falling. . " I have become a private citizen on the banks of the Potomac, and, under the shadow of my ovv^n vine and my own figtree, free from the bustle of a camp and the busy scenes of public life, 1 am solacing myself with those tranquil enjoyments of which the soldier, who is ever in pursuit of WASHINGTON. 53 fame — tlie statesman, whose watcliful days and sleepless nights are spent in devising schemes to promote the welfare of his own, perhaps the ruin of other countries, as if this globe was insufficient for us all — and the courtier, who is always watching the countenance of his prince, in the hope of catching a gracious smile, — can have very little conception. I have not only retired from all public employments, but am retiring within myself, and shall be able to view the solitary walk, and tread the paths of private life, with heart-felt satisfaction. Envious of none, I am determined to be pleased with all ; and this, my dear friend, being the order of my march, I will move gently down the stream of life, until I sleep with my fathers." Washington now devoted his attention, with untiring industry, to the pursuits of agriculture and the extension of inland navigation. He corresponded with the officers and influential men of all the states on the most prominent subjects of public interest and improvement. He formed a plan to render the rivers Potomac and James navigable as high as practicable, and to open such inland navigation between these waters and those west of the Ohio, as would secure the trade of the western country to Virginia and Maryland. According to this suggestion, two companies were formed for opening the navigation of these rivers; and of each, Washington consented to be the president. The legislature of Virginia directed the treasurer of the state to subscribe for one hundred and fifty shares in each company for the benefit of General Washington. This appropriation was generously made and as generously received. According to the desire of Washington, these shares were appropriated to the support of a college in the vicinity of each river. Near the close of the revolutionary war, the officers of the American army, with the view of continuing their intercourse and friendsliip, formed themselves into an association named the society of Cincinnati. Of the general society Washington officiated as president, from its institution in 1783 till the time of his death. By the rules of this society, the honors of it were to be hereditary in the respective fiimilies, and distinguished individuals were to be admitted as honorary members for life. These aristocratic features of the institution alarmed the community, and excited a great degree of jealousy. On full inquiry, Washington found that these objections were general, and he therefore exerted his influence among the officers, to induce them to drop the offensive part of the institution. At the annual meeting, in May, 1787, these portions were accordingly ex- punged; and the modification entirely quieted public apprehensions. The articles under which the United States originally confederated proved to be inadequate to the purnoses of national government. A crisis was expected in public affairs, which would again require the personal presence and influence of Washington. His friends communicated freely with him on this subject, and his ov.n apprehensions were deeply excited. In a letter to Mr. Jay, in 1780, he observed : " Your sentiments, that our affairs are drawing rapidly to a crisis, accord with my own. What the event will be is beyond the reach of my foresight. We have errors to correct ; we have probably had too good an opinion of human nature, in forming our confederation. Experience has taught us that men will not 54 WASHINGTON. adopt and cprehcnd. " Retired as I am from the world, I frankly acknowledge I cannot feel myself an unconcerned spectator. Yet having happily assisted in bringin;^ the ship into port, and having been iairly discharged, it is not my busiiu ss to embark a,gain on the sea of troubles. Nor could it be expected that my sentiments and opinions would have much weight on the minds of my countrymen. They have been neglected, though given as a last legacy in a most solemn manner. I then, perhaps, had some claims to public attention. I consider myself as having none at present." Illumination on the subject of enlarging the powers of Congress was gradual. A convention of delegates from the several states was proposed, for the purpose of remodelling the terms of the confederation. This convention met in Philadelphia in May, and unanimously chose George Washington their President. On the seventeenth of September, 1787, they closed their labors, and submitted the result to Congress, with the opinion that it should be submitted to a convention of delegates chosen WASHINGTON. 55 in f'.'ich state by tlie people thereof, under the recommendation of its legislature, for its assent and ratification. The constitution being accepted by eleven of the states, and measures being taken for carrying it into execution, all eyes were turned towards Washington as the most suitable person to be President of the United States. He was then fifty-seven years of age, and in the full enjoyment of health and vigor. It would appear, however, from numerous letters written about this period, that the return into public life was to him a source of anxiety and trouble which he would gladly have avoided. He was fond of retirement and private life. "Every personal consideration," he observed in a letter to General Lincoln, " conspires to rivet me to retirement. At my time of life, and under my circumstances, nothing in this world can ever draw me from it, unless it be a conviction that the partiality of my countrymen had made my services absolutely necessary, joined to a fear that my refusal might induce a belief that I preferred the conservation of my own reputation and private ease to the good of my country. After all, if I should conceive myself in a manner constrained to accept, I call Heaven to witness that this very act would be the greatest sacrifice of my personal feelings and wishes that I have ever been called upon to make. It would be to forego repose and domestic enjoyment, for trouble, perhaps for public obloquy ; for I should consider myself as entering upon an unexplored field, enveloped on every side with clouds and darkness." Before the election came on, the expectation of Washington's appoint- ment was so universal, that numerous applications were made to him for the offices of government which wOuld be in his gift. Contemptible as such applications must always be, Washington condescended to notice them with a dignified refusal. To one applicant he wrote as follows : " Should it become absolutely necessary for me to occupy the situation in which your letter presupposes me, I have determined to go into it perfectly free from all engagements of every nature whatsoever. A conduct in conformity to this resolution would enable me, in balancing the various pretensions of different candidates for appointments, to act with a sole reference to justice and the jMiblic good. This is in substance the answer that I have given to all applications (and they are not few) which have already been made." The official announcement of his election to the Presidency was made to General Washington on the fourteenth of April, 1789. On the second day after receiving this notice, Washington set out for New- York. The road was thronged with numbers anxious to gaze upon the hero of the revolution, and the man of the people's choice. Escorts of the militia and of gentlemen of the highest rank and character attended him from stale to state, and he was every where received with the highest honors. Gray's bridge over the Schuylkill was beautifully decorated for his passage with laurels and evergreens. At each end of it splendid arches were erected, composed of laurels, and on each side was a laurel shrubbery. As Washington passed the bridge, a boy from above dropped a crown of laurel upon his brows. An immense throng of citizens lined the road from the Schuylkill to Philadelphia. Through these he was conducted i 56 WASHINGTON. to tlio city. An ('I<'!j;;iiif, (Mjixirtaiiiiiiciil vv;is tlicrc provided, nnd was hucci;(m1(!(1 ill I lie eveiiiiiif l)y a display of lirovvorks. When Wasliiiigloii crossed (he Dtilaware and landed on llie Jersey shore, he was saluted with three checirs hy the a-sseinhlctl iiihal)itaiits. When he came to the hrow of the hill on his way to 'JVenton, he attain jiay.sed through a triumjilial M» . ^^■^ — .Trrli ornaiiieiit(>d with laurels and flowers. On the crown of it was displayed, in large characters, " .December twenty-sixth, 177G." On the sweep of the arch beneath was inscribed, " The Defender of the Mothers will also protect tli(> DaughliMs." On the north side? he was nu^t by a number of leiuale childrtiii, dressed in white, with baskets of (lowers on tluiir arms and garlands on their heads. In the second row stood the young women, and Ixdiind (hem the niarri(;d ladies, of the vicinity. As he passed the arch, the children began to sing the following ode. " Wt'lcoinc, iiiiij;lity CKwf ! onco more Wolconic to this was rowi>(l across the bay (o New- York by (liir(een pilots in au eleoant barjie. All the vessels in (he harbor hoisted their tlajis. On his landing, he was received and congratulated by the governor of the state and ollicers of the corporation. He was conducted (o the house which had been prepared for his reception, followed by a procession of militia in WASHINGTON. 57 tlioir uniforms, ainl a larjiro iinrrilMT of cilizfiiis. In thn ovoriiiirr tlm liou.scs of tlio iiili.'ibitunts vvcrti l)rilli;iiit,ly ilhmiin.-itcd. A day was fixfid, noon after his arrival, for his taking tho oath of oflico. It was in tho following words : "1 do Holcinnly swoar, that I will faithfidly (;x(;ciito the odlcc of President of the IJnit<,'d Stat(;s ; ;nirl will, to the hcst of my ability, pre- serve, protect, and defend the constitution of tlie United States." On this occasion lie was wliolly clothed in garments of American manu- facture. In the morning, the different congregations assembled in their respective ])laces of worship, anrl ofTered up prayers for the President and people of the United States. About noon, a procession moved from the President's house to Federal Hall. When th(;y c.iuie within ;i, short dis- tance of the hall, tlie troops formed a line on hoth sides of tho way, through which, accoiiipiinied by the Vice-1'resident, Mr. John Ad;iuis, W;ishingtf)n passed iiito tiie senate chandter. Jmmediatrtly after, with tlie two houses of Congress, he went into a gallery fronting on Jiroad- street, .and, before an iinmeiise throfig of (viii/.ens, took the oath prescribed by the con.stilution. it was admiiiist(;red by Mr. J^ivingston, the (;haii- cellor of the state of New- York. A solemn silence prevailed during tho ceremony. The chance-IIor then proclaimed him Presith.-nt of the (Jnit<;d States. This was answr;red by the discharge of cannijii, and th(; joyful shouts of assembled tfiousands. The President bowed most respectlully to the people, and retired to the senate chamber in the midst of their acclamations. After delivering an address to Congress and receiving their reply, the President attended divine service in their company. In the evenifig there was a very ingenious anrl brilliant exhibition of hreworks. A transparent jiainting was displayed, in tlie centre of which was the por- trait of the Pr(;sifl(;nt, repre.sented under the image of Fortitude. On his right hand was .Justice, and on hishdt Wisdom ; f;ndj|eiriatic r^f the Senate and House of Re[)resentatives, Thus concluded the cer(;monieK of the fir.st presidential inauguration. When Washington commenced his administration, the situation of tho Unitfsd States was highly critical. Tliere were no funds in the tr(;a.sury, and large debts were due upon every side. The jtarty in oj»position to the new constitution was numerous, and several meinbers of this party had been elected to s(;ats in the nf;w Congress. Two of the states for a while refused to accept tlie constitution, and were, consequently, beymid the reach of its power. The relations of the general government with foreign nations were very unsettled. Animosities raged with consider.a- ble violence between the United States and Creat Britain. Each charged the other with a violation of the late treaty of peace. JJifhculties occurred with S|)ain in respect to the navigation of tho Mississipjii, and the boundaries of the states towards the Spanish territories in the South. Fifteen hundred of the northern Jndians were at open war with tho United States ; the Creeks in the southwest, who could bring six thou- sand fighting men into thf; fif;ld, were at war with Ceorgia. Congress having organized the great departments of governnKint, it became the duty of tlic President to designate proper pert-ons to fill them. 8 59 WASHINGTON. Washine^ton looked rovmd with care and im{)artiality to fill these posts to his own satisraclioii, and to that oi' tlie people, lie accordingly placed Colonel Hamilton at the head of the Treasury department; General Knox in llie department of War ; Mr. .TefTerson at the head of the depart- ment of Foreign Allairs ; and Mr. Edmund Randolph in the office of Attorney General. It was among the first measures of Washington to make peace with the Indians, and conuuissioners were appointed for this purpose. General Lincoln, Mr. Griilin, and Colonel Iluinphreys, were deputed to treat with the Creek nation. They met M'Gillivray, their chief, with other chiefs, and ahout two thousand of the tribe, at Rock Landing, on the Oconee, on the frontiers of Georgia. The negotiation was suddenly broken off by M'Gillivray, on the pretence of a dispute about the boundaries, but in reality, through the influence of the Spanish government. A second mission proved more successful. A number of the Creek chiefs were induced to visit New- York, where a conference was held, and a treaty soon established. The attempt to eifect a peace with the Indians of the Wabash and the Miamies, did not terminate with like success. In con- sequence of this, the President, in September, 1791, despatched General Ilarmer into the Indian territories, with orders to destroy their settlements on the waters of the Scioto and Wabash. This general was defeated, as was also Major General St. Clair. The final conquest of these tribes was effected in 1794, by General Wayne; and soon after that event, a peace was concluded between the Indians and the United States. By skilful and prudent management, all the difficulties with Spain were amicably settled ; but much greater difficulties stood in the way of a peace- ful adjustment of controversies with Great Britain. In the first years of his Presidency, Washington took informal measures to ascertain the views of the British cabinet respecting the United States. This business was intrusted to Mr. Governeur Morris, who conducted it with great ability, but found no disposition to accede to the wishes of our government. In two years from that time, the British, of their own accord, sent their first Minister to the United States, and the President, in return, nominated Mr. Thomas Pinckney as the Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of Great Britain. About this time war commenced between France and Great Britain. The correct and mature judgment of W^ashington immediately decided that the proper position of the United States was that of perfect neutrality. A strong disposition existed in the people to favor the cause of France. The benefits that had been conferred upon them by that gallant nation during the revolutionary struggle were fresh in their remembrance. A feeling still existed of resentment towards England, for the oppression which had led to the war, and the miseries that attended it. To compel the observance of neutrality, under these circumstances, was a task that required all the iniluence and popularity of Washington. Motions were made in Congress for sequestrating debts due to British subjects ; to enter into commercial hostility with Great Britain, and even to interdict all intercourse with her till she pursued other measures with respect to Uie United States. Every thing threatened innnediate war. In this WASHINGTON. 59 state of affairs, the President, in April, 1794, nominated John Jay, Envoy Extraordinary to the Court of Great Britain. By this measure an adjust- ment of the points in dispute between the two nations was happily effected, and the result of the mission was a treaty of peace. This was pronounced by Mr. Jay to be the best that was attainable, and one which he believed it for the interest of the United States U> accept. While this treaty was under the consideration of the Senate, a copy of it was furnished to the editor of a newspaper, in violation of the laws of that body. The publication of this document at- once rekindled the smothered passions of the people, and meetings were held in all the large cities, to pronounce the treaty unworthy of acceptance and to peti- tion the President to refuse his signature to so obnoxious an instrument. These agitations were naturally the source of much anxiety to Washing- ton, but they did not cause him to swerve for a moment from the true path of his duty. He regretted that the treaty was so generally unpopular, but determined to ratify it, as the only alternative with war. His policy was always peace, if it can be preserved with honor. In a letter to General Knox, he observes on this subject : " Next to a conscientious discharge of my public duties, to carry along with me the approbation of my constituents, would be the highest gratification of which my mind is susceptible. But the latter being secondary, I cannot make the former yield to it, unless some criterion more infallible than partial (if they are not party) meetings, can be discovered as the touchstone of public senti- ment. If any person on earth could, or the Great Power above would, erect the standard of infallibility in political opinions, no being that inhabits this terrestrial globe would resort to it with more eafterness than myself, so long as I remain a servant of the public. But as I have hitherto found no better guide than upright intentions, and close investi- gation, I shall adhere to them while I keep the watch." Difficult as it was to decide upon the proper policy to be pursued towards England, it was even more embarrassing in respect to France. The attachment to the French interests was much increased by the arrival of M. Genet, the first Minister Plenipotentiary from the republic of France to the United States. Encouraged by the indications of good wishes for the success of the French revolution, this gentleman under- took to authorize the fitting and arming of vessels, enlisting men, and giving commissions to vessels to crui.se and commit hostilities on nations with whom the United States were at peace. The British minister complained against these proceedings, and the American government disapproved of them. Still, however, the people continued enthusiastic in the cause of their old allies. At civic festivals, the ensigns of France were displayed in union with those of America, the cap of liberty passed from head to head, and toasts were given expre>ssive of the fraternity of the two nations. To preserve neutrality at such a crisis was a matter of much difficulty, but Washington resolved, at every hazard, to adhere to the principle that the United States would hold all mankind enemies in war, and friends in peace. He at length decided to request the recall of M. Genet, and soon had the satisfaction to learn that the course this gentleman had pursued was entirely disapproved by his own government. GO WASHINGTON. The successors of Genet followed in his steps, but with less violence. With a view to reconcile all difliculties, Washington appointed General Pinckney, Minister Plenipotentiary to the French republic. From this mission he anticipated an adjustment of all points in dispute, but the Directory announced their haughty determination not to receive another Minister from the United States, until after a redress of grievances which the French republic had a right to expect from the American government. Before the result of the mission was known, Washington had ceased to be President of the United States. Having served through eight years of doubt and difficulty, and having brought all the affairs of great l)ublic interest into a fair train for ecpiitable adjustment, and being far advanced in life, he announced his intention of declining a re-election in full time for the people to fix ujwn a successor. His resignation was announced to the people of the United States, in an address which every true lover of his country must be willing to adopt as his political text book. The following passages speak with peculiar force to us at all periods of political and sectional excitement : " The unity of government, which constitutes you one people, is also now dear to you. It is justly so, for it is the main pillar in the edifice of your real independence ; the support of your tranquillity at home, your peace abroad ; of your safety, of your prosperity, of that very liberty wliieh you so highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee, that from diHerent causes and from different quarters much pains will be taken, numy artifices employed, to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth ; as this is the point in your political fortress against which the batteries of internal and external enemies w ill be most constantly and actively (though often covertly and insidiously) directed, it is of infinite moment, that you should properly estimate the immense value of your national union, to your collective and individual happiness; that you should cheris^h a cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it, accustoming yourselves to think and speak of it as the palladium of your political safety and prosperity ; watching for its preservation with jealous anxiety ; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspiciim that it can in any event be abandoned ; and indignantly frowning upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together the vario\is parts. " For this you have every inducement of sympathy and interest. Citizens by birth or choice of a common country, that country has a right to concentrate your allbctions. The name of American, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism, more than any aj)pellation derived from local discriminations. With slight shades of ditierence, you have the same religion, manners, habits, anil political principles. You have in a common cause fought and triumphed together ; the independence and liberty you possess, are the work of joint councils, and joint efforts — of common dangers, suffer- ings, and successes." ******<' Xo the efficacy and per- manency of your union, a government for the whole is indispensable WASHINGTON. 61 No alliances, however strict, between the parts, can be an adequate substitute ; they must inevitably experience the infractions and interrup- tions wliich all alliances in all times have experienced. Sensible of this moinentous truth, you have improved uj)oii your first essay, by the adoption of a constitution of government, better calculated than your former, for an intimate union, and for tiie eflicacious manairement of your common concerns. This government, the offspring of our own choice, uninduenced and unawed ; adopted upon full investigation and mature deliberation; com])l(!tely free in its principles; in the distribution of its powers, uniting security with energy, and containing within itself a provision for its own amendments, has a just claim to your coniidenco and your support. Respect for its authority, compliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, are duties enjoined by the fundamental mnxims of true liberty. The basis of our politiciil systems is the right of the people to make and to alter their constitutions of government. But the const if Ml ion vvhicli at any time exists, until changed by an explicit and aulhentie act of the whole people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The very idea of the power and the right of the people to establish a government, presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established government." * * * * " Tlioiigh in reviewing the incidents of my administration I am unconscious of intentional error ; lam nevertheless too sensible of my defects, not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope th;it my country will never c(!ase to vUwv them with indulgence ; and that after fbrty-fivc years of my life, dedicated to its service, with an iq)riglit zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself umst soon be to the mansions of rest. " Relying on its kindnciss in this as in other things, and actuated by that fervent love towards it, which is so natural to a man who views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations ; I anticipate with pleiising expectation that retreat, in which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, tlie sweet enjoyment of partakijig, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government — the ever favorite object of my heart, and the hapjjy reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers. " United States, September 17, 179G." This valedictory address was received in every part of the Union with the most unbounded admiration. Shortly after its promulgation, the President met the National Legislature in the .senate chamber for the last time. His address on the occasion touched upon the most important topics that were then in agitation. In the course of it he recommended the establishment of national works for manufacturing irnpleTiients of defence; of an institution for the improvement of agriculture; and [)oinicd out the advantages of a military academy, of a national university; and the necessity of augmenting the salaries of the officers of the United States. He concluded in the followinir words : " The situation in which I now stand, for the last time, in the midst of G2 WASHINGTON. the representatives of the people of the United States, naturally recallf> the period when the administration of the present form of government commenced ; and I cannot omit the occasion to congratulate you and my country on the success of the experiment, nor to repeat my fervent suppli- cations to the Supreme Ruler of the universe, and Sovereign Arbiter of nations, that his providential care may still be extended to the United States ; that the virtue and happiness of the people may be preserved ; and that the government which they have instituted for the protection of their liberties may be perpetual." On the day preceding the termination of his office, in a letter to General Knox, he compared himself to a weary traveller who sees a resting place, and is bending his body thereon. " Although the prospect of retirement is most grateful to my soul, and I have not a wish to mix again in the great world, or to partake in its politics, yet I am not without regret at parting with (perhaps never more to meet) the few intimates whom I love. Among these, be assured, you are one." The numerous calumnies which assailed him never but once drew forth his public notice. A volume had been published by the British, in the year 1776, consisting of letters which they attributed to General Wash- ington. It was the object of this publication to produce impressions unfavorable to the integrity and character of the commander-in-chief When the first edition of this forgery had been forgotten, it was repub- lished, during his Presidency, by some citizens who differed from him in politics. On the morning of the last day of his office, Washington addressed a letter to the Secretary of State, in which he enumerated the facts and dates connected with the forgery, and declared that he had hitherto thought it unnecessary to take a formal notice of the imposition. In this letter he solemnly declared that the correspondence was entirely a base forgery, and that he never saw or heard of it till it appeared in print. He requested that his letter upon the subject should be deposited in the office of the department of state, to be a testimony of the truth to the present generation and to posterity. The time had now come when his own official power was to cease, and that of his successor, John Adams, was to commence. The old and new Presidents walked together to the house of representatives, where the oath of office was administered. Mr. Adams concluded his address upon the occasion, by an impressive allusion to his predecessor, in observing, that though about to retire, " his name may still be a rampart, and the knowledge that he lives a bulwark, against all open or secret enemies of his country." Washington rejoiced that the way was open for his return to the happiness of domestic and private life. After paying his respects to the new President, he immediately set out for Mount Vernon. He was desirous of travelling privately, but it was impossible. Wherever he passed, crowds came out to meet him and testify their respect for him. In his retirement he resumed his agricultural pursuits; and, in the society of his private friends, looked for a quiet ending to an active and anxious life. He still, however, continued interested in public affairs, and heard, with regret, the insults offered to the United States by the French Directory. These injuries at length obliged our government to adopt WASHINGTON. 63 vigorous measures. Congress authorized the formation of a regular army, and all eyes were turned upon Washington as its commander. President Adams nominated Washington to the chief command of the armies of the United States, with the rank of lieutenant general. To the letter, sent with the commission to Mount Vernon, Washington replied in a letter which concluded as follows ; " Feeling how incumbent it is upon every person of every description to contribute at all times to his country's welfare, and especially in a moment like the present, when every thing we hcid dear and sacred is so seriously threatened, I have finally deter- mined to accept the commission of commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States ; with the reserve only, that I shall not be called into the field until the army is in a situation to require my presence, or it becomes indispensable by the urgency of circumstances. In making this reservation, I beg it to be understood that I do not mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the army, which you may think I can afford. I take the liberty, also, to mention, that I must decline having my acceptance considered as drawing after it any immediate charge upon the public ; or that I can receive any emoluments annexed to the ap- pointment, before entering into a situation to incur expense." After the receipt of this appointment, Washington divided his time between agricultural pursuits and the organization of the army. He always thought an actual invasion of the country very improbable, but he made arrangements to repel it at the water's edge. No sooner had these warlike preparations been made, than France signified her desire for a peaceful accommodation. Mr. Adams immediately sent three envoys extraordinary to negotiate with the French republic. On repairing to France, they found the Directory overthrown, and the government in the hands of Bonaparte. With him negotiations were immediately com- menced, and terminated in a peaceful arrangement of all difficulties. Washington, however, did not live to participate in the general joy which this event occasioned. On the twelfth of December, 1799, Washington rode out in the morn- ing to his farms. The weather soon became very cold, and there was an alternate fall of rain, hail, and snow. He did not return till past three, when he went to dinner without changing his dress. In the evening he appeared as well as usual. On the next day, there was a heavy fall of snow, which prevented him from riding out as usual. He had taken cold from his exposure the day before, and complained of having a sore throat. His hoarseness increased towards evening, but he took no remedy for it, observing, as he would never take any thing to carry off a cold, " Let it go as it came." On Saturday morning he was very seri- ously unwell, and a physician was sent for to bleed him. Finding that no relief was obtained from bleeding, and that he was entirely unable to swallow any thing, his attendants bathed his throat externally with sal volatile. A piece of flannel was then put round his neck, and his feet were soaked in warm water. It was impossible to procure any relief. Several physicians were immediately sent for, and various remedies resorted to without effect. Between five and six o'clock in the afternoon, his physicians came to his bedside, and Dr. Craik asked him if he would 64 WASHINGTON. t;it \ip in tlio. bed. He held out his hands, and was raised up, when he said — " I feel myself going ; you had better not take any more trouble about me, but let me go off quietly ; I cannot last long." They found what had been done was without effect ; he laid down again, and all except Dr. Craik retired. He tlicn said to him, " Doctor, I die hard, but I am not afraid to go ; I believed, from my first attack, I should not survive it; my breath cannot last long." The doctor pressed his hand, but could not utter a word ; he retired from the bedside, and sat by the fire, absorbed in grief. About ten o'clock he made several attempts to speak before he could effect it. He at length said, " I am jtist going. Have me decently buried ; and do not let my body be put in the vault in less than two days after I am dead." His attending physician bowed assent. He looked at him again and said, "Do you understand me?" The reply was, " Yes, sir." Washington answered, " 'Tis well." About ten minutes before he expired, his breathing became much easier, he lay quietly, and he withdrew his hand from the physician to feel his own pulse. His hand fell from the wrist. Dr. Craik placed his hands over his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh. While the pliysicians and attendants were standing fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington asked, in a firm and collected voice, "Is he gone?" When intelligence of the death of Washington reached Congress, they immediately adjourned until the next day. Mr. John Marshall, since chief justice of the United States, then delivered a short and impressive speecli to the house of representatives ; and the senate addressed a letter to the President. To this letter Mr. Adams returned an answer, which concluded in the following words : " The life of our W'ashington cannot suffer bv a comparison with those of other countries who have been most celebrated and exalted by fame. The attributes and decorations of royalty could only have served to eclipse the majesty of those virtues which made him, from being a modest citizen, a more resplendent luminary. Misfortune, had he lived, could hereafter have sullied his glory only with those superficial minds who, believing that character and actions are marked by success alone, rarely deserve to enjoy it. " Malice could never blast his honor, and envy made him a singular exception to her universal rule. For himself, he had lived long enough to life and to glory ; for his fellow-citizens, if their prayers could have been answered, he would have been immortal ; for me, his departure is at a most unfortunate moment. Trusting, however, in the wise and righteous dominion of Providence over the passions of men and the results of their actions, as well as over their lives, nothing remains for me but hiunble resignation. " His example is now complete ; and it will teach wisdom and virtue to magistrates, citizens, and men, not only in the present age, but in future generations, as long as our history shall be read. If a Trajan found a Pliny, a Marcus Aurelius can never want biographers, eulogists, or historians." Congress passed a series of resolutions, in which it was determined that a marble monument should be erected by the United States, at the WASHINGTON^ 65 capitol of the city of Washington, to commemorate the great events of the military and political life of the late President. It was also deter- mined that there sliould be a funeral oration and procession, and that it should be recommended to the people of the United States to wear crape on their left arm, as mourning, for thirty days. When the resolution of Congress that she should be requested to permit the remains of her husband to be deposited under a marble monument, to be erected at the capitol, was communicated to Mrs. Washington, she replied in the following language : " Taught by the great example which I have so long had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to the public will. I must consent to the request made by Congress, which you have had the goodness to transmit to me ; and in doing this, I need not, I cannot say, what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty." Information of the death of Washington was received in every part of the states with expressions of regret, and called forth sentiments of the highest veneration for his memory. Legislative bodies, civil corporations, colleges, and all other societies of importance formed funeral processions an J attended upon prayers, eulogies and orations in his honor. The resolution of Congress respecting the monument has not been carried into execution. An ap])ropriation for this purpose was opposed, as an improper use of the public money ; the reason assigned for objecting to the measure was that the only fit monument of Washington was in the gratitude and veneration of his countrymen. It has been difficult to interrupt the narrative of public and important matters, by the introduction of those apparently unimportant anecdotes, which sometimes, more than any thing else, make us familiar with the character of a great man. Those which follow have been collected from a variety of sources, and we believe to be generally well authenticated. When General Washington had closed his career in the French and Indian war, and had become a member of the House of Burgesses, the Speaker, Robinson, was directed, by a vote of the house, to return their thanks to that gentleman, on behalf of the colony, for the distinguished military services which he had rendered to his country. As soon as Washington took his seat, Mr. Robinson, in obedience to his order, and following the impulse of his own generous and grateful heart, discliarged this duty with great dignity ; but with such warmth of coloring and strength of expression, as entirely confounded the young hero. He rose to express his acknowledgments for the honor ; but such was his trepida^ tion and confusion, that he could not give distinct utterance to a single syllable. He blushed, stammered, and trembled, for a second ; when the Speaker relieved him, by a stroke of address, tliat would have done honor to Louis XIV. in his proudest and happiest moments. " Sit down, Mr. Washington," said he, with a conciliating smile ; " your modesty is equal to )'our valor; and that surpasses the power of any language that I possess." In the town of , in Connecticut, where the roads were extremely rough, Washington was overtaken by night, on Saturday, not being able to reach the village where he designed to rest on the Sabbath. Next morninff, about sunrise, his coach was harnessed, and he was 9 66 WASHINGTON. j)roccc(linir forward to an inn, near the place of worsliip, which he pro- posed to attend. A i)hiin man, wlio was an informing officer, came from a cottage, and inquired of the coachman whether there was any urgent n^asons for his travcUing on the Lord's day. The General, instead of resenting this as an impertinent rudeness, ordered the coachman to _ stop, and with great civility explained the circumstances to the officer, coiiimcnding him for his fidelity ; and assured him that nothing was fartlier from his intention, than to treat with disrespect the laws and usages of Connecticut, relative to the Sabhath, which met with his most cordial aj^probation. Washington accomplished the most of his great work with ap- pfirent ease, by a rigid observance of punctuality. It is known that whenever he assigned to meet Congress at noon, he never failed to be passing tlie door of the hall when the clock struck twelve. Jlis dining hour was four, when he always sat down to his table, only allowing five minutes for the variation of timepieces, whether his guests were present or not. It was frequently the case with new members of Congress, that tlu^y did not arrive until dinner was nearly half over, and he would re- mark, " Gentlemen, we are punctual here ; my cook never asks whether the company has arrived, but whether the hour has." When he visited Boston in l'/89, he appointed eight o'clock in the morning as the hour when he should set out for Salem, and while the Old South clock was striking eight, he was crossing his saddle. The company of cavalry which voluiilcered to escort him, not anticipating this strict punctuality, were parading ill Treniont-street, after his departure; and it was not until the President had reached Charles river bridge, where he stopped a few minutes, that the troop of horse overtook him. On passing the corps, the President with perfect good nature said : — " Major , I thought you had been too long in my family, not to know when it was ciglit o'clock." The following anecdote was related by Captain Pease, the father of the stage establishment in the United States. lie had purchased a beautiful pair of horses, which he wished to dispose of to the President, who he knew was an excellent judge of horses. The President appointed five o'clock in the morning to e.vamine tlieni at his stable. Tiie captain thinking the hour was too early for so great a man to be stirring, did not arrive with the horses until a quarter after five, when he was told by the groom that the President was there at live, and was then fulfilling other engagements. Pease was much mortified, and called on Major .lackson, the Secretary, to apologize for his delay, and to request the President to appoint .some new time ; and he added that he Ibund the President's time was wholly preoccupied for several days, and tliat he was compelled to stay a week in Philadelphia before the examination took place, merely for delaying the first quarter of an hour. Major Ferguson, who commaiuhHl a rille corps a day or two previous to the battle of Brandywine, was the hero of a very singular accident, which he thus describes in a letter to a friend. It illustrates, in a most forcible manner, the overruling liaiiil of Providence in directing the operations of a man's mind, in moments when he is least aware of it. WASHINGTON. 67 " We had not lain long, when a rebel officer, remarkable by a hussar dress, pressed toward our army, within a hundred yards of my right flank, not perceiving us. He was followed by another, dressed in dark green and blue, mounted on a bay horse, with a remarkable high cocked hat. I ordered three good shots to steal near and fire at them ; but the idea disgusting me, I recalled the order. The hussar, in returning, made a circuit, but the other passed within a hundred yards of us ; upon which, I advanced from the woods towards him. Upon my calling, he stopped ; but after looking at me, proceeded. I again drew his attention, and made signs to him to stop, levelling my piece at him ; but he slowly cantered away. By quick firing, I could have lodged half a dozen balls* in, or about him, before he was out of my reach. I had only to deter- mine ; but it was not pleasant to fire at the back of an unoffending individual, who was very coolly acquitting himself of his duty ; so I let him alone. " The next day the surgeon told me that the wounded rebel officers informed him that General Washington was all the morning with the light troops, and only attended by a French officer in a hussar dress, he himself dressed and mounted as I have above described. I am not sorry that I did not know who it was at the time." It is now settled as a fact beyond dispute, that General Gates was connected with General Lee in a conspiracy to supersede the illustrious Washington. The commander-in-chief was well aware of the means they used to deprive him of the affections of the army, and the confidence of the people. How he sought revenge, is shown in the following anecdote : " I found General Gates traversing the apartment under the influence of high excitement. His agitation was excessive — every feature of his countenance, every gesture, betrayed it. He had been charged with unskilful management at the battle of Camden, and he had just received official despatches, informing him that the command was transferred to General Greene. His countenance betrayed no resentment, however ; it was sensibility alone that caused his emotion. He held an open letter in his hand, which he often raised to his lips, and kissed with devotion, while he repeatedly exclaimed — * Great man ! Noble, generous proce- dure!' When the tumult of his mind had a little subsided, with strong expressions of feeling, he said, ' I have this day received a communica- tion from the commander-in-chief, which has conveyed more consolation to my bosom, more ineflfable delight to my heart, than I believed it possible for it ever to have felt again. With affectionate tenderness, he sympathizes with me in my domestic misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss I have sustained in the recent death of my only son ; and then, with peculiar delicacy, lamenting my misfortune in buttle, assures me that his confidence in my zeal and capacity is so little impaired, that the command of the right wing of the army will be bestowed on me, as soon as I can make it convenient to join him.' " Washington entertained a very deep respect and friendship for General Knox, and always kept him near his own person. After the defeat of Gates' army, at Camden, General Greene was offered the arduous 6S WASIIINCTON. command of the southern department. The quaker General, with his usual modesty, replied, " Knox is the man for that difficult undertaking; all obstacles vanish before him ; his resources are infinite." " True," answered Washington, " and therefore I cannot part with him." While the American army, under the command of Washington, lay encamped in the environs of Morristown, New-Jersey, it occurred that the service of the communion (there observed semi-annually only,) was to he administered in the Presbyterian Church of the village. In a morning of the previous week, the General, after his accustomed inspec- tion of the camp, visited the house of the Rev. Dr. Jones, then pastor of that church, and after the usual preliminaries, thus accosted him. " Doctor, I understand that the Lord's supper is to be celebrated with you next Sunday ; I would learn if it accords with the canons of your church to admit communicants of another denomination ?" The Doctor rejoined — " Most certainly : ours is not the Presbyterian table, General, but the liord's table ; and we hence give the Lord's invitation to all his followers, of whatever name." The General replied, " I am glad of it : that is as it ought to be ; but as I was not quite sure of the fact, I thought I would ascertain it from yourself, as I propose to join with you on that occasion. Though a member of the Church of England, I have no exclusive partialities." The Doctor reassured him of a cordial welcome, and the General was found seated with the communicants the next Sabbath. Shortly after his election to the Presidency of the United States, General Washington, his lady, and secretary. Major Jackson, on their way from the seat of government to Mount Vernon, stopped for the night at Chester. The President had scarcely arrived, and expressed a wish not to be disturbed, when a message was brought tiiat an old gentleman, once honored with his favor and protection, requested permission to pay his respects, adding, that his name was Lydick. " Let him enter, by all means," said the President ; " he is the man. Major Jackson, who, at the hazard of his life, entered New- York, while in possession of the enemy, for the purpose of distributing among the German troops, proclamations, inviting them to our standard ; and who, afterwards, superintended, for many years, our baking establishment with zeal and diligence." As the old man entered, the General, taking him kindly by the hand, said — " My worthy friend, I am rejoiced to see you, and truly happy to express my thanks to a man to whom I feel myself under great obligation. You ever served your country with exemplary fidelity, and her warmest gratitude is richly your due." " Such praise from my beloved commander," replied Lydick, " is high reward. I shall now go to my grave in peace, since it has been my happiness once again to meet and pay my duty to your Excellency." The person of Washington was unusually tall, erect, and well propor- tioned. His muscular strength was very great. His features were of a beautiful symmetry. He commanded respect without any appearance of hauchtiness, and was ever serious without being sullen or dull. " It is natural," says Dr. Thacher, " to view with keen attention the countenance of an illustrious man, with a secret hope of discovering in his features some peculiar traces of the excellence which distinguishes him from and WASHINGTON. 69 elevates liim above his fellow mortals. These expectations are realized, in a peculiar manner, in viewing the person of General Washington. His tall and noble .stature and ju.st proportions, his fine, cheerful, open coun- tenance, simple and modest deportment, are all calculated to interest every beholder in his favor, and to command veneration and respect. He is feared even when silent, and beloved even while we are unconscious of the motive." Of the character of Washington it is impossible to speak but in terms of the highest respect and admiration. The more that we see of the operations of our government, and the more deeply we feel the difficulty of uniting all opinions in a common interest, the more highly we must estimate the force of the talent and character which have been able to challenge the reverence of all parties, and principles.^ and nations, and to win a fame as extended as the limit of the globe, and which we cannot but believe will be as lasting as the existence of man. f I JOHN ADAMS J«"^ Adams vvas born at aumcy, m Massachusetts, on the nineteenth day ot October (Old Style,) 1735, of John and Susannah Boylston Adams He was the fourth m descent from Henry Adams, who, to quote the inscription upon his tombstone, "took his flight from the dragon perse- cut.on, m Devonshire England, and alighted with eight sons near Mount Wo las ton He early gave proof of superior abilities, and he enjoyed the best advantages for the.r cultivation, which the country afforded. He warl r'"''^ ^'"'^f V^^' -'"^ "^^ ^'■^^"^^^^d i" fo- y^-rs after! wards. His course in the University was creditable to his character and S F '? f 7 ^«"l^^^^'"g ^t, he, like most of the distinguished men in New-England, from the earliest tmies to the present day, engaged for a ime m th^ employment of teaching. He instructed in thf grammar school in Worcester, and at the same time studied law with Mr. Putnam n, n? ?. considerable eminence in that town. In 1758, he was ad^ muted to the bar, and commenced the practice of his profession in Brain- tree his native town, and his success was soon made certain by the ability with which he argued a criminal cause before a jury in Plymouth c2uf' If ""aI ""'"n"^ "''^ '^'l ^""^ ^^ ^"^«^'^' ^' th^ reqiest of Jeremy Gridley, the Attorney General of the province, and of the highest emi^ nence m his profession. Mr. Gridley was the active friend alid patron of Adams, and had also been the instructer in law of the celebratPH James Otis; and, proud of these highly promising younV men he was :ZrV:i\'''fr' '"■^' '>^'f ^"^ ^°"'^ e.gJJho were, one day o other, to peck out his eyes." In compliance with his advice, Mr. Adams IZZt '^'^7?'' '* '^* *™"- ^"^ l^^l' ^« ^'^^ admitted to the de- f4ded estTtf Th '''' '"^ ^"^^^^d^^' by the death of his father, to a small lc.nded estate. The same year was made memorable by an event preg- nant with the most important results to the country, and which awakS the most enthusiastic flame of patriotism in the breast of Mr Adlms l^or many years the feelings between the mother country and the colonies, particularly that of Massachusetts, had been any other than 1 rall^::e r" "^' T^"'' ^°"''^"^" ^^^ PaniamentMlwed wkh fn niT ^ !f'\ '^P'^^^ increasmg wealth and population, and began elves as unlerC '^T "^ ''''''""''• ^^' ^^^^"^^^ ^'S^'^^'^ ^h^'"" selves as under the immediate protection and patronage of the Kino- and seme'd t lZ:i ^f,^^\^Pf -"""*' ' ^^^^ "^'^b-h ^hey were n^^Tepre- enmb^ment n[ ? '^^'' f^''^''> or ^ impose any restraints upon the employment of their industry and capital. These feelings of ill-will, 72 ADAMS. though apparent to all sagacious observers, did not lead to any overt act of resistance till 17C1. An order of council had been passed in Great Britain, ordering the officers of the customs in Massachusetts Bay, to execute the acts of trade. The custom-house officers, in order that they might fully perform this duty, petitioned the Supreme Court, to grant " writs of assistance,' according to the usage of the Court of Exchequer in England, which authorized those who held them to enter houses, &/C. in search of goods liable to duty. This created a great excitement, and the right to grant them was strenuously denied. Its legality was made the subject of a trial. Mr. Gridley, the King's Attorney General, argued in support of the power of the court, and he was opposed by the celebrated James Otis, a man of splendid abilities and ardent patriotism, at that time, in the prime of life, and the full blaze of his reputation. His speech was a magni- ficent display of eloquence, argument, and learning. And Mr. Adams, who heard it, has recorded his impressions of it, in his glowing and peculiar language. " Otis," says he, " was a flame of fire ! With a promptitude of classical allusion, a depth of research, a rapid summary of historical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic glance of his eyes into futurity, a rapid torrent of impetuous eloquence, he hurried away all before him. American Independence was then and there born ; every man of an immensely crowded audience, appeared to me to go away ready to take up arms against writs of assistance." On another occasion, he says of the same speech, " that James Otis, then and there, breathed into this nation the breath of life." The court decided against the legality of the writs, but it is generally supposed that thoy were issued clandestinely. In 17G4, Mr. Adams married Abigail, daughter of the Rev. William Smith, of W(ymouth, and few men have been so fortunate in their choice, or so happy in their domestic relations. Mrs. Adams was a woman of great personal beauty, and strength of character, with a highly cultivated mind, and the most feminine sweetness of disposition. She sympathized with her husband, in his patriotic enthusiasm, was the con- fidant of all his plans and feelings ; cheered and supported him in his hours of trial, and submitted, without repining, to the long separations, which his duty to the public rendered necessary. In 1765, the British ministry, with what now seems a providential infatuation, passed the memorable stamp act, by which stamped paper was required to be used in all legal instruments, and imposing a tax upon it, by whicn a large amount was to be raised in the colonies. A flame of opposition blazed out immediately throughout the whole country. The right of Parliament to lay the tax was denied, pamphlets were written against it, the newspapers contested it, town-meetings were held, and the most spirited resolutions passed. The men who took the lead in the opposition, were Patrick Henry, of Virginia, and James Otis, who was powerfully supported by Mr. Adams. These two last gentlemen, together with Mr. Gridley, appeared before the Governor and Council, and argued that the courts should administer justice without stamped paper. About this time he gave to the world, his first printed performance. ADAMS. 73 his "Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law." The object of this work, was to show tlie absurdity and tyrainiy of the ix:onarchical and aristocratic institutions of the old world, and, in particular, the mischie- vous principles of the canon and feudal law. He contends that the New-England settlers had been induced to cross the ocean to escape the tyranny of church and state, and that they had laid the foundations of their government in reason, justice, and a respect for the rights of humanity. It exhorts his countrymen not to fall short of these noble sentiments of their fathers, and to sacrifice any thing rather than liberty and honor. " The whole tone of the essay is so raised and bold," says Mr. Wirt, "that it sounds like a trumpet-call to arms." It was much read and admired in America and Europe, and was pronounced by Mr. Hollis, of London, to be the best American work which had crossed the Atlantic. In 17G6, he removed his residence to Boston, to reap the more abun- dant harvest of professional honor and emolument which the capital afforded, but still continued his attendance on the neighboring circuits. The stamp act was opposed throughout the colonies, with such spirit and unanimity, that on the tenth of March, 1766, it was repealed ; but still the British cabinet, notwithstanding the eloquent remonstrances of Burke and Chatham, would not give up the idea of raising a revenue in Ame- rica, and the repeal act was accompanied by a declaratory act, in which it was asserted, "that the Parliament had, and of right ought to have, power to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." In the next year, a law was passed, laying duties in the British colonies, on glass, paper, painters' colors, and tea. These proceedings, coupled with the declara- tion above-mentioned, raised a new storm in the colonies, who were determined to resist the tax, and to extort from the British ministry the acknowledgment that they had no right to tax them. The town of Bos- ton had, also, its peculiar sources of irritation and dislike to the mother country. It had always been considered as taking the lead in the opposition, and in order to overawe the inhabitants, some armed vessels were stationed in the harbor, and two regiments of foot were quartered in the town. During these troubled times, Mr. Adams was zealous and unremitting in asserting the rights of his country. The value and importance of his services in behalf of liberty, may be estimated by the fact that the crown officers thought him worthy of being purchased by a high price. They offered to him the place of Advocate General in the Court of Admiralty, a very lucrative office at that time, and a steppingstone to still higher ones. But as he could not accept it, without abandoning his friends and princi- ples, he declined it, as he himself says, "decidedly and peremptorily, though respectfully." In 1769, he was the chairman of a committee, consisting of himself, Richard Dana and Joseph Warren, chosen by the citizens of Boston, to prepare instructions to their representatives to resist the encroachments of the British government. These were conceived in a bold tone of spirited remonstrance, and particularly urged the removal of the troops from Boston, 10 74 ADAMS. But the soldiers still continued in town, and this gave rise to an inci- dent, which was highly honorable to the professional firmness and moral courage of Mr. Adams. The inhabitants looked with an evil eye upon the soldiers. Squabbles were perpetually taking place between them, and on the fifth of March, 1770, a bloody affray occurred in State-street, in which five citizens were killed and many others wounded. This is commonly called the Boston massacre, about which it is almost impossible to learn the exact truth, even at this day, or to settle the amount of blame which ought to be attached to both parties. The town was thrown into a most violent ferment, as may well be supposed, and nothing but the most active exertions of the leading men prevented the populace from rising en masse, and putting to death every man who wore a red coat. The inhabitants assembled in town-meeting and chose a committee, of which Samuel Adams was the chairman, to present a remonstrance to the Governor, with a demand that the regular troops should be removed fi-om the town. The state of popular feeling is well described in the words of John Adams himself " Not only the immense assemblies of the people from day to day, but military arrangements from night to night, were necessary to keep the people and the soldiers from getting together by the ears. The life of a red coat would not have been safe in any street or corner of the town. Nor would the lives of the inhabitants been much more secure. The whole militia of the city was in requisition, and mili- tary watches and guards were every where placed. We were all upon a level, no man was exempted ; our military officers were our only supe- riors. I had the honor to be summoned in my turn, and attended at the State-house with my musket and bayonet, my broadsword and cartridge- box, under the command of the famous Paddock. I know you will laugh at my military figure, but I believe there was not a more obedient soldier in the regiment, nor one more impartial between the people and the regulars. In this character, I was upon duty all night upon my turn." The Governor did not attempt to stem the current of popular feeling, but the soldiers were sent to the castle, and Captain Preston, the com- manding officer, and some of the privates, were arrested and held for trial. Mr. Adams was applied to, to be their counsel. This request placed him in an embarrassing situation. The people were clamorous against the criminals, and demanded their blood with one voice ; and any man who appeared in their defence, was in danger of losing his popularity and influence with them ; and Mr. Adams, who had been so zealous a champion in the popular cause, ran the risk of being accused of deserting his former principles, and becoming the advocate of tyranny. But these considerations had no weight with him. His life was ordered in obedi- ence to duty, and his conduct was never influenced by the hope of gaining, or the fear of losing, the favor of the people. He undertook the^ '^ defence without any hesitation, and Josiah Quincy, Jr., another eminent » patriot, was associated with him. The result of the trial was, in the highest degree, honorable to the community. Captain Preston was ac- quitted by a jury, chosen from the exasperated inhabitants of the town, and his counsel, who defended him with great ability and eloquence, lost \ nothing in their good opinion by their resolute performance of their ADAMS. 75 defence without any hesitation, and Josiah Quincy, Jr., another eminent . patriot, was associated wath him. The result of the trial was, in the / highest degree, honorable to the community. Captain Preston was ac- I quitted by a jury, chosen from the exasperated inhabitants of the town, and his counsel, who defended him with great ability and eloquence, lost nothing in their good opinion by their resolute performance of their pro- fessional duty. Such incidents as these show us the exalted motives, and the sublime sense of right and justice, which influenced the men of the revolution, and of the dark days that preceded it. Mr. Adams was chosen, in the same year, one of the representatives in the General Assembly. The session which ensued was signalized by an obstinate contest with Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson, as to whether the General Court should be held in Cambridge, where Governor Bar- nard had removed it, or in Boston, the usual place. Mr. Adams was one of a committee chosen to remonstrate with the acting Governor on his changing the place of assembly, to gratify the wishes of his Majesty's ministers; and their eloquent appeal to him, probably proceeded from his pen. But the Lieutenant (and acting) Governor was determined not to go to Boston, of whose bold and spirited population, he stood in no little awe. Urged by the necessity of the times, the members proceeded to transact business at Cambridge, protesting, however, against the restraint they were under. In 1772, the ministers introduced a regulation, by which the salaries of the judges were paid in such a manner, as rendered them wholly de- pendent upon, and subservignt to, the crown. This excited great offence, and gave rise to a controversy in the public papers, between William Brattle, the senior member of the council, on one side, and Mr. Adams, on the other. Mr. Adams' numbers were learned and able, and com- municated much useful information to the people. These essays were published in the Boston Gazette, of February, 1773, under his proper signature. When the General Court met in January, 1773, Hutchinson, who had been appointed Governor, made a very injudicious and violent speech to the two houses, on the supremacy of Parliament, and the impolicy of resisting it. To their reply, he made an elaborate rejoinder, and the sense in which Mr. Adams was held, may be learned from the fact, that, though not a member, he was called upon to furnish a reply. He pro- duced an eloquent and argumentative dissertation, remarkable both for the beauty of its style and the cogency of its reasoning. It was repub- lished by Dr. Franklin, in England, as the ablest exposition of colonial affairs that had appeared. Soon after this, he was chosen a member of the Assembly, and nomi- nated by them on their list of Councillors, but his name was erased by Governor Hutchinson, and the same compliment was paid him the next year by Governor Gage. The act of 1767, which granted duties in the British colonies on glass, paper, painters' colors, and tea, had been repealed as to all the articles except tea, and, in consequence, associations were formed in all the v colonies, to discourage the use of it. Large shipments of it were made to - A ' 7G ADAMS. The consignees were prevailed upon to send it back to England, but the custom-house officers refused a clearance. The patience of the inhabitants became quite exhausted, and on the evening of the fifteenth of December, a band of them, amounting to between seventy and eighty in number, went quietly down to the wharf, boarded the vessels, hoisted the chests upon deck, and emptied their contents into the sea. A consideration of the circumstances of the times exalts this seeming frolic into an act of the most sublime daring. It was the first open act of rebellion. It was the throwing the gauntlet of defiance to the mother country. It removed all chances of recon- ciliation, and rendered an appeal to arms inevitable.* The British ministry were highly incensed at this outrage, and deter- mined to visit it with signal punishment. An act was passed for closing the port of Boston, which is commonly called the Boston Port Bill. This was a deadly blow to the prosperity of the place, and the inhabitants looked anxiously to the sister colonies for aid in carrying on the contest. They resolved to make application to them to refuse all importations from Great Britain ; they sent agents among them to ascertain their viewF, and to persuade them to the adoption of their own sentiments. Among these was a plan for a general Congress, deeming that the condition of the colonies was such as to require the most vigorous and united mea- sures. To this Congress they chose five delegates, James Bowdoin, Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams, and Robert Treat Paine. While the General Court were engaged in the discussion of these impor- tant measures, and electing the delegates. Governor Gage, having been informed of what was passing, sent his secretary with a message dis- solving them. But he found the doors locked, and was resolutely refused admission. The secretary, by the Governor's orders, came to the door of the room, and read a proclamation for dissolving the assembly. This was the close of the power of England in and over Massachusetts. From that moment she was, to all intents and purposes, an independent state. An interesting incident is related, as having happened to Mr. Adams at this time, and which is valuable, as illustrating the state of his feelings. Soon 'after he was elected a delegate, his friend, Mr. Sewall, the King's Attorney General, labored earnestly to dissuade him from accepting the appointment. He told him " that Great Britain was determined on her system ; her power was irresistible, and would be destructive to him and all those who should persevere in opposition to her designs." Mr. Adams re- plied to him, " I know Great Britain has determined on her system, and that very determination determines me on mine ; you know I have been constant and uniform in opposition to her measures. The die is now cast. I have passed the Rubicon. Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish with my country, is my unalterable determination." The delegates from Massachusetts, with the exception of Mr. Bowdoin, took their seats in Congress, the first day of its meeting, September fifth, * For a minute and interesting account of this transaction, see Tudor'? Life of James Otis, cliiip. XXV. ADAMS. 77 1774, in Philadelphia. The proceedings of the first Congress are too well known to be minutely detailed. They form one of the noblest chapters in the history, not only of our country, but of the world ; and they have left to every American citizen a heritage of glory, before which all the fiiblcd splendor which tradition has thrown around the origin of older nations, fades into insignificance. The pul)]ic papers issued by them drew from Lord Chatham the compliment " that he had studied and admired the free states of antiquity, the master-spirits of the world ; but that, for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of con- clusion, no body of men could stand in preference to this Congress." The first session continued eight weeks, during which Mr. Adams was in active and constant attendance. He was a member of some of the most important committees, such as that which drew up a statement of the rights of the colonies, and that which prepared the address to the King. Mr. Adams and his colleagues, being inhabitants of the colony which had been the most oppressed and insulted, and in which the most deter- mined spirit of opposition had been roused, were convinced of the entire impracticability of any reconciliation, and that it would be necessary to throw off" the allegiance of the mother country, and to act as an indepen- dent nation. But these were by no means the sentiments and feelings of the inhabitants generally, and they were highly unpopular among them. Mr. Adatns, in particular, from his ardent temperament and enthusiastic character, was an object of particular suspicion and dislike. He was charged not to make public the idea of a dissolution of the connexion, as it vvas as unpopular as the .stamp act itself He was even pointed at in the streets as the visionary advocate of the most desperate measures. His own views, and those of .some of his most distinguished colleagues, may be learned from an extract from one of his own letters. " When Congress had finished their business, as they thought, in the autumn of 1774, I had with Mr. Henry, before we took leave of each other, some familiar conversation, in which 1 expressed a full conviction that our resolves, declarations of rights, enumeration of wrongs, petitions, remonstrances, and addresses, associations, and nonimportation agreements, however they might be expected in America, and however necessary to cement the union of the colonies, would be but waste water in England. Mr. Henry said they might make some impression among the people of England, but agreed with me that they would l)e totally lost upon the government. I had but just received a short and hasty letter, written to me by Major Joseph Hawley, of Northampton, containing a 'few broken hints,' as he called them, of what he thought was proper to be done, and concluding with these words, ' After all, we must fight.' This letter I read to Mr. Henry, who listened with great attention ; and as soon as I had pronounced the words, 'After all, we must fight,' he rai.sed his head, and, with an energy and vehemence that I can never forget, broke out with ' By God, I am of that man's mind.' I put the letter into his hand, and when he had read it he returned it to me, with an equally solemn asseveration, that he agreed entirely in opinion with the writer. " The other delegates from Virginia returned to their state in full 78 A D A »t S . confidence that all our grievances ■would be redressed. The last words that Mr. Richard Henry Lee said to me, when we parted, were, 'We shall intallibly carry all our points : you will be completely relieved ; all the otronsive acts will be repealed ; the army and fleet will be recalled ; and Britain will give up her foolish project.' AVashington only was in doubt. He never spoke in public. In private he joined with those who advocated a nonexportation, as well as a nonimportation agreement. With both he thought we should prevail ; without either he thought it doubtful. Henrv was clear in one opinion, Richard Henry Lee in an opposite opinion, and Washington doubted between the two." The sentiments of Mr. Lee, were those of the great majority of the nation. They were strongly attached to the luotb.er country, and believed that the feeling was mutual. They felt confident both of her justice and generosity. But these fond anticipations were destined not to be realized. The ministers of England, at that time, were deficient in high, magnani- mous, and statesman-like views, and were resolved to use no arguments but those of force. Tliey, as well as the whole people, were ignorant, to a ludicrous degree, of the condition, extent, population, geography, and resources of the colonies. Even the Prime Minister talks of the " island'' of Virginia. The Congress adjourned in November, and Mr. Adams returned to his family. At this time, his literary talents were again called into exertion for the service of his country. His friend, JNIr. Sewall, the Attorney General, had been publishing a series of able essays, under the name of Massachusettensis, contending for the supreme authority of the Parliament and against the revolutionary spirit of the country. Mr. iVdams wrote a series of papers, under the name of IVovanglus, in defence of the doctrines and conduct of the whigs. These are written with strength and ability, and are remarkable, as showing the extent of the antlior's general read- ing, and, in particular, his acquaintance with colonial history. This last merit, even his adversary was compelled to acknowledge. " Novanglus," he says, " strives to hide the inconsistencies of his hypothesis under a huge pile of learning." In writing these papers, Mr. Adams was em- barrassed with peculiar difilculties. He was obliged to defend tiie principles of natural liberty and equality, to deny the authority of Parlia- ment, but, at the same time, to acknowledge the rightfid power of the King. To the monarch himself the people were so much attached, that even after the battle of Lexington, which, one would think, would have severed every tie which bound them to Great Britain, the militia that had been engaged in actual battle with the royal forces, were called the " King's troops," and the regular soldiers were termed " Bute's men," in allusion to Lord Bute, who M-as highly unpopular, and was supposed to exercise a pernicious intluence over the young King's mind. Mr. Adams and his colleagues were reelected members of the Conti- nental Congress, John Hancock being chosen in the place of Mr. Bowdoin. It assembled in Philadelphia, on the tenth of Mav, 1775. In the month of April of that year, the first blood of the revolution had bixMi shed at Lexington and Concord, and Congress were obliged to take measures for active resistance. Still, the minds of men were not ripe for ADAMS. 79 * independence, and they clung to the hope tliat their grievances would be redressed. They took up arms in self-defence merely. It was necessary to select some one for the post of commander-in-chief of the forces raised, and to be raised. A short history of this transaction will afford proof of Mr. Adams' disinterested patriotism, and sacrifice of sectional prejudice to the common good. The only thing like an army at that time in the country, was a hand- ful of New-England militia, hastily assembled at Boston, in consequence of the sicirmishes at Lexington and Concord. These were under the command of General Artemas Ward, whom the New-England delegation were desirous of having made commander-in-chief; but Mr. Adams urged them to lay aside all local partialities, and appoint Colonel George Washington, of Virginia, who had given proof of uncommon military talents in the French war. His colleagues were extremely averse to this plan. They thought it disrespectful to their own friends, to appoint a stranger, who had no higher rank than that of colonel, over the heads of generals, at the head of brigades and divisions. Mr. Adams persisted in his own views, and in the determination that Washington should be ap- pointed. He was accordingly nominated the next day, by Governor Johnson, of Maryland, at the instigation of Mr. Adams, and seconded by him, to the great surprise of many of the members, and none more so, than of Washington himself, who was present as a member, and who, with characteristic modesty, immediately rose and left the house. It is needless to remark how honorable this selection was, not only to Air. Adams' patriotism, but to his sagacity. It is impossible to say how large a i)art of the success of any undertaking is to be ascribed to the agency of any one individual, but it seems to us, that our revolutionary struggle, if it had been successful at all, must have been protracted many years longer, and have cost nmch more blood and treasure, if any other man than Washington had been at the head of our armies. Soon after the appointment of General Washington, Mr. Jefferson took his seat in Congress from Virginia, having been chosen in the place of Mr. Peyton Randolph, who had retired on account of ill health. Between him and Mr. Adams, a warm intimacy, arising from congeniality of feeling and agreement on the great jjoints which agitated the minds of men, com- menced, which continued, with some unfortunate interruptions, as long as they lived. The Congress assembled again in the spring of 177G. At this time the feelings of the people had undergone a material chiinge. The battle of Buriker Hill had been fought, and the British army had evacuated Boston. The Parliament had declared the provinces in a state of rebellion, and it was voted to raise and equip a force of twenty-eight thousand seamen and fifty-five thousand land troops. The indignation of the people was raised to the highest pitch, by learning that Lord North had engaged sixteen thousand German mercenaries, to assist in subduing them. To cherish the hope of an amicable adjustment of their differences, was little short of madness. The time had come for them to draw the sword and throw away the scabbard ; to assume the erect attitude and bold tone of inde- pendence. Such had been INIr. Adams' opinions from the first com- 80 ADAMS. moncemcnt of the difHcultics; and the time had now come, when it was no longer dangerous or inexpedient to express them. Accordingly, on the sixth of May, 177G, he moved in Congress a resolution, wliich was in fact a declaration of independence, recommending to the colonies " to adopt such a government as would, in the opinion of the representatives of the people, best conduce to the happiness and safety of their constitu- ents and of America." This proposition was adopted on the tenth. On the same day, the Massachusetts House of Representatives voted a resolution, that if the Congress should think proper to declare independence, they were ready to support it with their lives and fortunes. Five days afterwards, Mr. Adams reported and advocated a preamble to the resolutions already passed, which, after reciting the insults and aggressions of the British government, and that they had called in the assistance of foreign mercenaries, proceeded in the following terms ; " Whereas it appears absolutely irreconcilable to reason and good con- science, for the people of these colonies now to take the oaths and affirmations necessary for the support of any government under the crown of Great Britain, and it is necessary that the exercise of every kind of authority under the said crown should be totally suppressed, and all the powers of government exerted under the authority of the people of the colonies, for the preservation of internal peace, virtue, and good order, as well as for the defence of their lives, liberties, and properties, against the hostile invasions and cruel depredations of their enemies." This preamble was adopted, after an animated discussion. It was published for the consideration of the colonies. They all expressed a wish for independence ; North Carolina being the first, and Pennsylvania the last, to make it publicly known. It now remained to issue a formal Declaration of Independence, in the name of the United Colonies. Virginia being the leading state, it was thought proper that the motion sliould proceed from one of her delegation. Richard Henry l^ee, being cho.sen by his colleagues, offered, on the seventh of June, the glorious and immortal resolution, " that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown ; and thcat all political connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and of right ought to be, totally dissolved." This motion was seconded by Mr. Adams, and was debated with great warmth till the tenth, when the further discussion of it was postponed till the first of July. At the same time, it was voted, that a committee be appointed to prepare a draft of a declaration, to be submitted to Congress for its consideration. This committee was chosen by ballot, and consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston ; being arranged in order, according to the number of votes which each had received. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, being at the head of the committee, were requested by the other members to act as a subcom- mittee, to prepare the draft ; and Mr. Jefferson, at Mr. Adams' earnest request, drew up the paper. The declaration was reported to Congress by the committee, on the ADAMS. 8.1 first day of July. Mr. Lee's original resolution was passed on the second, and on the fourth, the Declaration of Independence, after having under- i gone a few changes, was adopted in the committee of the whole. It was not engrossed and signed, however, till the second of August. We omit to make any remarks on the Declaration itself, as they more properly belong to the life of Jefferson. During all the discussions that preceded this important measure, and they were long and animated, Mr. Adams took the lead. Mr. Jefferson has said, " that the great pillar of support to the Declaration of Indepen- dence, and its ablest advocate and champion on the floor of the house, was John Adams." On another occasion, he said of him, " He was our Colossus on the floor. Not graceful, not elegant, not always fluent in his public addresses, he yet came out with a power, both of thought and expression, which moved us from our seats." The Congress of the Revolution debated with closed doors, and their discussions are preserved only by memory and tradition. The late Go- vernor M'Kean, of Pennsylvania, said, on this point, " I do not recollect any formal speeches, such as are made in the British Parliament, and our late Congress, to have been made in the Revolutionary Congress ; we had no time to hear such speeches, little for deliberation ; action was the order of the day." The eloquence of Mr. Adams was precisely adapted to the state of the times. It was manly and energetic, warmed and animated by his ardent temperament, and bold, independent character. He has indeed, withoi.t being conscious of it, drawn the character of his own eloquence : " Oratory, as it consists in expressions of the countenance, graces of attitude and motion, and intonation of voice, although it is altogether superficial and ornamental, will always command admiration ; yet it deserves little veneration. Flashes of wit, coruscations of imagination, and gay pictures, what are they ? Strict truth, rapid reason, and pure integrity, are the only ingredients in sound oratory. I flatter myself that Demosthenes, by his ' action ! action ! action !' meant to express the same opinion." On the day after the Declaration of Independence was passed, while his soul was yet warm with the glow of excited feeling, he wrote a letter to his wife, which, as we read it now, seems to have been dictated by the spirit of prophecy. " Yesterday," he says, " the greatest question was decided that ever was debated in America ; and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided among men. A resolution was passed, without one dissenting colony, ' that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states.' The day is passed. The fourth of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated, by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomps, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure, that 11 82 ADAMS. it will cost to maintain this declaration, and support and defend these states ; yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more than all the means ; and that poste- rity will triumph, although you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not." On his return to Massachusetts, he was chosen a member of the Coun- cil of Massachusetts, which occupied the place formerly held by the Governor's Council. He accepted the appointment, and assisted in their deliberations, but declined the office of Chief Justice, which they urged upon him, since it would interfere with his duties in Congress. In August, 177G, the American army on Long Island were attacked and defeated by the forces under Lord Howe, who, supposing this a favorable moment for negotiation, requested an interview with some of the members of Congress. Mr. Adams opposed the plan, as likely to produce no favorable result; but he was overruled, and a committee appointed to treat with the British General, consisting of himself. Dr. Franklin, and Edward Rutledge. They were received with much polite- ness by General Howe, but he was not willing to treat with them as a committee of Congress, and they were not willing to be considered in any other capacity. " You may view me in any light you please," said Mr. Adams, " except in that of a British subject." The only terms on which peace was offered, were, that the colonies should return to the allegiance and government of Great Britain, and these, the commissioners stated to him, were entirely out of the question ; and thus, as Mr. Adam.s had predicted, the negotiation was entirely fruitless. During the remainder of the year 177G, and throughout 1777, Mr. Adams was assiduous in his attendance upon Congress, and in attention to public affairs. He was a member of ninety committees, a greater number than any other member, and twice as many as any, except R. H. Lee and Samuel Adams. Of these he was the chairman of twenty-five, and in particular, of the laborious and important board of war. From these arduous duties he was relieved by being appointed, in November, 1777, a commissioner to France, in the place of Silas Deane, who was recalled. The other members were Dr. Franklin and Arthur Lee. The object of the mission was, to obtain assistance, in arms and money, from the French government. Mr. Adams accepted the appointment without hesitation, though it separated him from his family, and obliged him to cross the ocean in the depth of winter, and when it was swarming with ships of the enemy, and he knew that he should be treated with the utmost rigor if captured. He embarked on board the frigate Boston, in the month of February, 1778, from the shores of his native town. An incident occurred on the voyage, which proved that Mr. Adams' courage was not exclusively moral. Captain Tucker, the commander of the Boston, saw a large English ship, showing a tier of guns, and asked Mr. Adams' consent to engage her. This was readily granted. Upon hailing her, she answered by a broadside. Mr. Adams had been requested to retire to the cockpit ; but Tucker, looking forward, observed him among the marines, with a musket in his hands, having privately applied to the officer of the marines for a gun, and taken his station among them. At this sight Captain Tucker became alarmed; ADAMS. 83 and, walking up to the ambassador, desired to know how he came there ? Upon which the other smiled, gave up his gun, and went immediately below. The treaty of alliance and commerce with France had been signed, before Mr. Adams arrived in Europe; and on the appointment of Dr. Franklin as Minister Plenipotentiary, Mr. Adams asked and received permission to return home, which he accordingly did, in the summer of 1779. On his return to America, he was chosen a member of the Convention which was called to prepare a constitution for the state of Massachusetts. He was placed on the subcommittee chosen to draft the plan of the constitution ; and much of its character and spirit is due to his exertions. Soon after this. Congress determined to send a Minister Plenipotentiary to negotiate a peace with Great Britain. Mr. Adams and Mr. Jay, at that time President of Congress, were put in nomination, and received an equal number of votes. On the next day, it being proposed to send a Minister to Spain, Mr. Jay was almost unanimously elected, and Mr. Adams received the appointment of Minister to England. He received instructions, by which he was to be guided ; among which were, that the United States should be treated with as a free and independent state, and that the right to the fisheries should be insisted on. His salary was fixed at twenty-five hundred pounds sterling. He embarked in the French frigate La Sensible, November 17, 1779, and was obliged to land at Corunna, in Spain, from wliich place he travelled over the mountains to Paris, where he arrived in February, 1780. He communicated the objects of his mission immediately, to Dr. Franklin, the American Envoy at Paris, and the Count de Vergennes, the French Prime Minister. The latter was very pressing to learn the nature of Mr. Adams' instructions, but they were not communicated to him. Mr. Adams soon became con- vinced, that a peace with Great Britain on the terms required, was quite impracticable, and that it would be needless for him to go to that country. The French government, also, were averse to the negotiation. He accordingly remained in Paris for some time. In August, 1780, he repaired to Holland, and a vote of approbation was passed upon his conduct. Congress, upon hearing of the captivity of Mr. Laurens, who had gone out as Minister to Holland, appointed Mr. Adams in his place, to negotiate a loan ; and in December he was invested with full powers to conclude a treaty of amity and commerce with that country. Mr. Adamg had great dilficulties to contend with in Holland. He was thrown among capitalists and money brokers, with the details of whose business he was unacquainted, and with whom he had often no language in common. He was opposed by the whole strength of the British in- fluence. The Dutch people were extremely ignorant of the resources and wealth of the United States, and of course, their moneyed men were unwilling to advance their property, without knowing what security they had to depend upon. Mr. Adams commenced the writing of a series of papers, in answer to a set of queries proposed to him by Mr. Kalkoen, an eminent jurist of Amsterdam, containing an account of the rise and progress of the disputes between the colonies and the mother country ; 84 ADAMS. and of the resources and prospects of the United States. These papers were circulated by newspapers, all over Holland, and had a good deal of effect upon public opinion. We will leave, for a moment, the order of dates, and state that this portion of Mr. Adams' labors was concluded by the negotiation of a loan, in September, 1783, of eight millions of gilders, upon reasonably favorable terms. In July, 1781, while residing at Holland, he was summoned to Paris, for the piu-pose of consulting upon a plan of mediation, proposed by the Courts of Austria and Russia, which was not accepted, as the mediating powers would not acknowledge the independence of America, without the consent of Great Britain. During these negotiations, Mr. Adams was much annoyed, and the interests of his country much injured, by the selfish and intriguing conduct of the Count de Vergennes. He seems to have taken a dislike to the straight forward, manly character of the American minister. It was the policy of France, also, that the Americans should be debarred from some of the advantages which they insisted upon as indispensable preliminaries of a pacification with Great Britain. It was not desirable for France, that the British Parliament should be aware of Mr. Adams' powers, respecting a treaty of commerce, because it was her intention, as the more important country, in settling the conditions of peace, to secure to herself the lion's share of the com- mercial privileges, which England might be disposed to yield to her colonies. But Mr. Adams had too much skill, and too much indepen- dence to be either the dupe or the tool of the Count de Vergennes. Early in the year 1781, a message was transmitted to Congress, through the French Minister, at Philadelphia, complaining somewhat of the con- duct of the Plenipotentiary, and requesting them, "to be impressed with the necessity of prescribing to their Plenipotentiary, a perfect and open confidence in the French Ministers, and a thorough reliance on the King; and would direct him to take no step without the approbation of his Majesty ; and after giving him, in his instructions, the principal and most important outlines for his conduct, they would order him, with respect to the manner of carrying them into execution, to receive his directions from the Count de Vergennes, or from the person who might be charged with the negotiations, in the name of the Kinor." Congress instructed their Minister to repose the utmost confidence in the Ministers of the King* of France, and to undertake nothing in the negotiation for peace or truce without their knowledge and concurrence. But, as we have stated, the negotiation was broken off, and Mr. Adams returned to Holland. In 1782, Congress appointed Mr. Adams, Dr. Franklin, Mr. Jay, Mr. Henry Laurens, and Mr. Jefferson, commissioners for negotiating a peace ; and, in a spirit of unworthy concession to the French government, added to their instructions that " they should govern themselves by the advice and opinion of the Ministers of the King of France." This placed them almost entirely under the control of the Count de Vergennes. The com- missioners were displeased at finding themselves thus shackled, and strangers appointed to act upon the most vital interests of their country. They determined, therefore, to disobey the rash orders of Congress, and ll ADAMS. 85 to s(^curc for tlieir country much better terms tlmn fell in with the views of the French Ministry. The treaty of peace was signed November 30, 1TS2, and ratified January 14, 1784; and its honorable and favorable terms are mainly due to the firmness and ability of the commissioners. A full account of Mr. Adams' labors and services, from his first arrival in Europe to tlie peace, belongs to the diplomatic history of the country, and not to a sketch of his own life. The works which can be advanta- geously consulted on this subject, are Lyman's Diplomatic History of the United States, and Sparks' Diplomatic Correspondence of the Revolution. In January, 178-3, Congress resolved to appoint a Minister Plenipoten- tiary at the Court of Great Britain, and Mr. Adams was chosen for this important and delicate office. A letter was written by him, to Mr. Jay, giving a graphic and interesting account of the circumstances of his public reception, which we will quote. " During my interview with the Marquis of Carmarthen, he told me it was customary for every foreign Minister, at his first presentation to the King, to make his JVIajesty some compliments conformable to the spirit of his credentials ; and when Sir Clement Cottrel Dormer, the master of the ceremonies, came to inform me that he should accompany me to the Secretary of State and to court, he said that every foreign minister whom he had attended to the Queen, had always made an harangue to her Majesty, and he understood, though he had not been present, that they always harangued the King. On Tuesday evening the Baron de Lynden (Dutch ambassador) called upon me, and said he came from the Baron de Nolkin, (Swedish envoy,) and had been convers- ing upon the singular situation I was in, and they agreed in opinion that it was indispensable that I should make a speech, and that it should be as complimentary as possible. All this was parallel to the advice lately given by the Count de Vergennes to Mr. Jeflferson. So that finding it was a custom established at both these great courts, lliat this court and the foreign ministers expected it, I thought I could not avoid it, although my first thought and inclination had been to deliver my credentials silently and retire. At one, on Wednesday, the first of June, the master of ceremonies called at my house, and went with me to the Secretary of State's office, in Cleveland Row. where the Marquis of Carmarthen received me, and introduced me to Mr. Frazier, his under secretary, who had been, as his lordship said, unmterruptedly in that office, through all the changes in administration for thirty years, having first been appointed by the Earl of Holderness. After a short conversation upon the subject of importing my effects from Holland and France free of duty, which Mr Frazier himself introduced. Lord Car- marthen invited me to go with him in his coach to court. When we arrived in the antichamber, the Qlil de Boeuf of St. James, the master of the ceremonies met me and attended me while the Secretary of State went to take the commands of the King. WhUe I stood in this place, where it seems all ministers stand upon such occasions, always attended by the master of ceremonies, the room very full of ministers of state, bishops, and all otiier sorts of courtiers, as well as the next room, which is the King's bedchamber, you may well suppose that I was the focus of all eyes. 1 86 ADAMS. was relieved, however, from the embarrassment of it, by the Swedish and Dutch ministers, who came to me and entertained me in a very agreeable conversation during the whole time. Some other gentlemen whom I had seen before, came to make their compliments too ; until the Marquis of Carmarthen returned and desired me to go with him to his Majesty ! I went with his lordship through the levee room into the King's closet. The door was shut, and I was left with his Majesty and the Secretary of State alone. I made the three reverences ; one at the door, another about halfway, and the third before the presence, according to the usage established at this and all the northern courts of Europe, and then addressed myself to his Majesty in the following words : ' Sir, the United States of America have appointed me their Minister Plenipotentiary to your Majesty, and have directed me to deliver to your Majesty this letter, which contains the evidence of it. It is in obedience to their express commands, that I have the honor to assure your Majesty of their unani- mous disposition and desire to cultivate the most friendly and liberal intercourse between your Majesty's subjects and their citizens, and of their best wishes for your Majesty's health and happiness, and for that of your royal family. " ' The appointment of a Minister from the United States to your Majesty's court, will form an epoch in the history of England and America. I think myself more fortunate than all my fellow-citizens, in having the distinguished honor to be the first to stand in your Majesty's royal presence, in a diplomatic character ; and I shall esteem myself the happiest of men, if I can be instrumental in recommending my country more and more to your Majesty's royal benevolence, and of restoring an entire esteem, confidence, and affection, or in better words, "the old good nature, and the old good harmony," between people, who, though separated by an ocean, and under different governments, have the same language, a similar religion, and kindred blood. I beg your Majesty's permission to add, that although I have sometimes before been intrusted by my country, it was never in my whole life, in a manner so agreeable to myself The King listened to every word I said, with dignity, it is true, but with apparent emotion. Whether it was the nature of the interview, or whether it was my visible agitation, for I felt more than I did or could express, that touched him, I cannot say, but he was much affected, and answered me with more tremor than I had spoken with, and said, ' Sir — The circumstances of this audience are so extraordinary, the language you have now held is so extremely proper, and the feelings you have discovered, so justly adapted to the occasion, that I must say, that I not only receive with pleasure the assurances of the friendly disposi- tion of the people of the United States, but that I am very glad the choice has fallen upon you to be their Minister. I wish you. Sir, to believe, and that it may be understood in America, that I have done nothing in the late contest, but what I thought myself indispensably bound to do, by the duty which I owed to my people. I will be frank with you. I was the last to conform to the separation: but the separation having been made, and having become inevitable, I have always said, as I say now, that I would be the first to meet the friendship of the United States, as ADAMS. g^y an independent power. The moment I see such sentiments and lancruaire as yours prevail and a disposition to give this country the prSencI that moment I shall say let the circumstances of language, rSfand blood, have their natural and full effect.' 't^iifeion, ana " I dare not say that these were the King's precise words and it is even possible that I may have, in some particular, mistaken his meanira or although his pronunciation is as distinct as I ever heard TehS ated sometimes between his periods, and between the member of the same period. He was indeed much affected, and I was not less so and herefore I cannot be certam that I was so attentive, hea^d so dear^v dnd understood so perfectly, as to be confident of all his words or eiise^ this I do say, that the foregoing is his Majesty's meaning as f hen "" '^fetin'/^,' '" TT '''''\'' "^^^^^ ^' I -" recollect them "" ihe King then asked me, whether I came last from France '? and upon my answering in the affirmative, he put on an air of fam liar'ty and smiling or rather laughing, said, ' there is an opinion ^moTi^'some people, that you are not the most attached of all your countrymen to the manners of France. I was surprised at this, because I tCight it an indiscretion, and a descent from his dignity. I was a little embSrlslT but determined not to deny the truth on oL hand, nor leave £ to £ from ,t any attachment to England on the other. I threw off an uch gravity as I could, and assumed an air of gaiety and a tone of decS as far as it was decent, and said ' That opinion. Sir, is not mistaken T must avow to your Majesty I have no attachment but'to my own couniry ' any o^li:?.'"'^"' "' ^""^ '' "^^'^'""S' ' ^^ honest man 'will nevei; ha've hJ' '^1;'',^^"'^ tj^^" said a word or two to the Secretary of State which being between them, I did not hear; and then turned round and bowed lrWo'''/"'*T''^'"'V" ^""^^ ^^^ princes, when they give Ihe signal to retire. I retreated, stepping backwards, as is the etiquefte and itZ'Z'orl '-'''''''^'' .'' ^h^ door of the chamber, I weXyVay^ the master of ceremonies joined me at the moment of my coming out of o m'y"^frrialr Vef Tr^^'^'f "^ ^'"^"^^^ ^" ^^e a'partmenfs down porTe'rs ro3'ou? 1 rrlr'^f of servants, gentlemen porters, and under feeSo^lhf M^ *'r '""'''""' T^P*^'^'^ ^* the British court, the the uSted Stated t7 ''' > ^'^ ^'T^'^'^^ *« be unfriendly towards Zf .11. 1 i u ^h'' irritations produced by the long strife were not he be'li?o'u?c1iiW P Tl"' '1 "? ^T ^^S— ^^y eLugh to forgre .rt^'tm^rclalta^"' "'""' ^^ ''''''' *^ '""^ P^'^P-^^^ ^- -^--^ hisTountr^'n^fterhT ""' '''f'l^ '" ^°"d^"' ^^ ^^^« ^"^^led to render new ^ta^es' nTf '""''' ''V^' "^•^^"^^^ ""^ ^''' "^erary talents. The phiTosopt rs a^d'^t'T ""' "I r'""' ""^^'''^ ^^ S'^^' ""^^est to the he Id UDon thel ^l','"^"^^^ ,^^ E"^«P^' ^"d a variety of opinions were nem upon their policy and prospects. Among those who exnressed ^emselves as dissatisfied with their political organization wereTons Turgot, the Abbe de Mably, and Dr^ Price. M. Turgot? i.^a letTer to 88 ADAMS. Dr. Price, obbcrves, " The Americans liave established three bodies, viz.»a Governor, Council, and Ilousie of Representatives, merely because there is in England a King, a House of Lords, and a House of Commons ; as if this equilibrium, which, in England, may be a necessary check to tlie enormous influence of royalty, could be of any use in republics founded upon the equality of all the citizens." M. Turgot reconiiuends the concentration of the whole power upon one representative assembly. These opinions derived weight from the high character of their author. This was a dark period in our history — the federal government was not yet formed — our credit was low — and the minds of men desponding and disposed to regard any state of things as better than that which actually existed. To counteract these impressions, Mr. Adams wrote and publislied in London, his Defence of the American Constitutions, in three volumes. It is a work of learning and ability, though bearing marks of the haste with which it was written. It did much service to his country, not only in correcting the influence of the above-mentioned writings at home, but in rendering the American cause respectable abroad. Mr. Adams moved in the most enlightened circles of English society, and occupied himself in gathermg information which might be useful to his own country. In 1787, he asked, and received permission to return home, and had the happiness to join his fimily and friends, after an absence of between eight and nine years. Congress at the same time, passed a resolution of thanks to be presented to him, for his able and faithful discharge of the various and important commissions with which he had been entrusted while abroad. In 1788, he was elected Vice President of the United States, and re- elected in 1792. In 179G, General Washington retired from public life, and Mr. Adams was elected President of the United States, though not without a good deal of opposition. After serving in this oflice four years, he was succeeded, as is well known, by Mr. Jelferson. To trace the history of Mr. Adams' administration, and to show the causes of his unpopularity, would fall within the province of general history, rather than of biography. But a slight sketch of his motives and principles, is due both to his own character and to the expectations of those who wish to obtain correct views of it. The French Revolution was the point upon which he Avas at issue with the majority of his countrymen. That tremendous political con- vulsion shook the whole earth to its centre, and created the most frantic excitement throughout tlie civilized world. The young and the enthu- siastic, hailed it as the dawn of a brighter day, not only for France, but for Europe, and pardoned its sanguinary excesses, regarding them as the natural results of that wild transport which would take possession of an uneducated population, at the sudden change from the most galling despotism to entire freedom. In this country, in particular, just begin- ning to enjoy the republican institutions which we had so dearly purchas- ed, there was an almost uni\ erso! expression of admiration and ^inpathy. But there were not wanting many, even in our own country, who viewed the French Revolution with alarm and disgust. They abhorred its II ADAMS. 89 atrocities, regarded with suspicion and dislike the characters of its leaders, and dreaded the influence of its principles, as tending to over- throw the whole social fabric, and introduce the most visionary schemes of polity in the place of the governments, whose excellence had stood the test of ages. To this latter class, Mr. Adams and his party belong- ed. He had imbibed a strong, and, in truth, an unreasonable prejudice against the French people, while he resided in Europe ; and he viewed them, and their conduct, through its distorting medium. At the very commencement of his administration he found the country involved in a dispute with France, and one of his earliest communications to Con- gress complained, in dignified and elegant language, of an insult offered to the ambassador of the United States, by the government of that coun- try. So strong, however, was the partiality to the French, that many believed that the first provocation had been given by us, and that it was our duty to tender an apology, and not demand satisfaction. Mr. Adams persisted, however, in the course which he deemed required by a regard for the honor of his country. He sent a commission, consisting of three envoys, Messrs. Pinckney, Marshall, and Gerry, to France, who were treated with insolence and contumely by the French Directory. In these transactions, it was Mr. Adams' misfortune to please neither one of the great parties, which then divided the country. The demo- cratic party considered them as too strong, and actuated by too great an hostility towards France, while the federalists thought a more high- spirited conduct and more dignified attitude were required by the cir- cumstances of the case. The bitterness with which this party strife was carried on, is probably fresh in the recollections of many of our readers. It was actively foment- ed by a most licentious press, which violated all the confidences of private life, and indulged in the most unwarrantable personal allusions and reflections. Mr. Adams was accused of favoring monarchical insti- tutions, though his whole life had been spent in resisting them. It is curious to observe how the malice of his enemies warped and perverted the best acts of his life. His Defence of the American Constitution, which favors the plan of having an executive and two houses of legisla- tion, was quoted as a proof of his prepossessions in favor of a king, lords, and commons ; and his noble, moral courage, at the beginning of his career, in defending Captain Preston and his soldiers, was brought up at this late day, as giving evidence of his being under British influence. It is but doing justice to Mr. Jefferson, the leader of the opposing and tri- umphant party, to state, that he always retained the highest personal respect for Mr. Adams, though, in political opinions, he differed so wide- ly from him. When some young politicians were, in his presence, accus- ing Mr. Adams of designs hostile to republican institutions, he remarked, " Gentlemen, you do not know that man ; there is not upon this earth a more perfectly honest man than John Adams. Concealment is no part of his character. It is not in his nature to meditate any thing that he would not publish to the world. The measures of the general govern- ment, are a fair subject for differences of opinion, but do not found your opinion on the notion that there is the smallest spice of dishonesty, moral 12 90 ADAMS. or political, in the cliaractcr of John Adams, for I know liim well, and I repeat, that a man more perfectly honest never issued from the hands of his Creator." Mr. Adams was also firm in his conviction of the importance of a naval establishment, and he deserves the title of Father of the American Navy. Time has confirmed the justness of his views on this subject, but they were not popular at the time. His own manners and bearing wore not dignified or conciliating, and, in this respect, he was decidedly inferior to Mr. Jeflerson. The warmth of his temperament, and the ardor of his feelings, often betrayed him into intemperate expressions and rash actions, which no one would re- gret more than he, in his cool moments. In March, ISOl, in the sixty-seventh year of his age, he retired to his quiet home, at Quincy, where he passed the remainder of his days. Ho amused himself with agricultural pursuits, and still retained a lively interest in the politics and literature of the day. He had an extensive correspondence, to fill up his leisure hours, and a large circle of friends, to whom he devoted much of his time. He was invited to become a candi- date for the oflice of Governor of Massachusetts, but declined. He de- fended the policy of Mr. Jefferson's administration towards England ; and when the dispute terminated in war, he advocated its expediency and ne- cessity, in opposition to the views and sentiments of the majority of the people of Massachusetts. He published a series of letters on this subject, in one of the Boston papers, and when a loan was opened by the General Government, to meet the expenses of the war, he innnediately took up a portion of tiie stock. In 1815, he had the pleasure of seeing his son at the head of the commission which signed the treaty of peace with Great Britain. He also renewed that friendship with Mv. Jefferson, which had been interrupted by party strife, and some beautiful and characteristic letters passed between them, many of which have been printed. In I81C, he was chosen a member of the college of electors, which voted for Mr. Monroe for President. In 1S18 he was called upon to sustain the severest affliction that had ever befallen him, by the death of his beloved wife, who had been for so many years his guide, solace, and friend, and who had shared his patriotic enthusiasm, and borne without a murmur, all the sacrifices which duty to their country had required them both to make. On this occasion he received the following beautiful letter from Mr. Jefferson. " Monticello, November 13, 1818. " The public papers, my dear friend, announce the fatal event of which your letter, of October twentieth, had given me ominous foreboding. Tried myself in the school of affliction, by the loss of every form of connexion which can rive the human heart, I know well, and feel, what you have lost — what you have suffered — are suffering — and have yet to endure. The same trials have taught me, that, for ills so immeasurable, time and silence are the only medicines. I will not, therefore, by useless condolences, open afresh the sluices of your grief, nor, although minglin;; sincerely my tears with yours, will I say a word more where words arc ADAMS. 91 vain, but that it is of some comfort to us both, that the term is not very distant, at which we are to deposit, in the same cerement, our sorrows and suffering bodies ; and to ascend, in essence, to an ecstatic meeting with the friends we have loved and lost, and whom we shall still love and never lose again. God bless you and support you under your heavy afflictions. Thomas Jefferson." In 1820, a Convention of the people of Massachusetts was called, for the purpose of revising their State Constitution, and Mr. Adams was elected a member from Ciuincy. The Convention testified their sense of his services to his country, and their respect for his character, by electing him unanimously to the office of President, passing at the same time the following highly flattering resolution. " In Convention, November 15, 1820. " Whereas, the Honorable John Adams, a member of this Convention, and elected the President thereof, has, for more than half a century, devoted the great powers of his mind and his profound wisdom and learning to the service of his country and mankind : " In fearlessly vindicating the rights of the North American provinces against the usurpations and encroachments of the superintendant govern- ment : " In diffusing a knowledge of the principles of civil liberty among his fellow sui>jects, and exciting them to a firm and resolute defence of the privileges of freemen : "In early conceiving, asserting, and maintaining the justice and practi- cability of establishing the independence of the United States of America: "In giving the powerful aid of his political knowledge in the formation of the Constitution of this his native state, which Constitution became, in a great measure, the model of those which were subsequently formed : " In conciliating the favor of foreign powers, and obtaining their coun- tenance and support in the arduous struggle for independence : " In negotiating the treaty of peace, w hich secured forever the sove- reignty of the United States, and in defeating all attempts to prevent it, and especially in preserving in that treaty the vital interest of the New- England States . " In demonstrating to the world, in his Defence of the Constitutions of the several United States, the contested principle, since admitted as an axiom, that checks and balances, in legislative power, are essential, to true liberty : " In devoting his lime and talents to the service of the nation, in the high and important trusts of Vice-President and President of the United States : " And, lastly, in passing an honorable old age in dignified retirement, in the practice of all the domestic virtues ; thus exhibiting to his country- men and to posterity an example of true greatness of mind and of genuine patriotism : " Therefore, Resolved, That the members of this Convention, repre- senting the people of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, do joyfully avail themselves of this opportunity to testify their respect and gratitude 92 ADAMS. to this eminent patriot and statesman, for the great services rendered by him to his country, and their high gratification that, at this late period of life, he is permitted, by divine Providence, to assist them with his counsel in revising the Constitution, which, forty years ago, his wisdom and pru- dence assisted to form. "Resolved, That a committee of twelve be appointed by the chair, to communicate this proceeding to the Honorable John Adams, to inform him of his election to preside in this body, and to introduce him to the chair of this Convention." This station he declined on account of his advanced age, being then eighty-five years old, but he was able to attend upon the Convention and fulfil his duties as a member. The world has hardly ever seen a spectacle of more moral beauty and grandeur, than was presented by the old age of Mr. Adams. The violence of party feeling had died away, and he had begun to receive that just appreciation which, to most men, is not accorded till after death. He had been always happy in his domestic relations, and he had a large circle of friends and acquaintances, who looked up to him with affectionate admiration. He was also an object of great interest to intelligent strangers from all parts of the world, all of whom were desirous of seeing a man who done so much for the glory and happiness of his country. No one could look upon his venerable form, and think of what he had done and suffered, and how he had given up all the prime and strength of his life to the public good, without the deepest emotions of gratitude and respect. It was his peculiar good fortune, to witness the complete success of the institutions which he had been so active in creating and supporting. He saw, every day, the influences of the revolution widening and extending, and the genial light of freedom continually adding increase to the wealth, intelligence, and happiness of his country- men. He could look around upon the thriving towns, the smiling villages, the busy factories, the crowded warehouses of his country, and exclaim, " Behold the work of my hands, the fruits of my labors, the result of my toils, dangers, and sacrifices." It was his privilege also to preserve his mind unclouded to the last. He always retained his enjoy- ment of books, conversation, and reflection. In 1824, his cup of happi- ness was filled to the brim, by seeing his son elevated to the highest station in the gift of the people. The fourth of July, 1826, which completed the half century since the signing of the Declaration of Independence, arrived, and there were but three of the signers of that immortal instrument left upon earth, to hail its morning light. And, as it is well known, on that day two of these finished their earthly pilgrimage, a coincidence so remarkable, as to seem miraculous. For a few days before, Mr. Adams had been rapidly fail- ing, and on the morning of the fourth, he found himself too weak to rise from his bed. On being requested to name a toast for the customary celebration of the day, he exclaimed, " Independence forever." When the day was ushered in, by the ringing of bells, and the firing of cannon, he was asked by one of his attendants, if he knew what day it ADAMS. 93 was ? He replied, " O yes ; it is the glorious fourth of July — God bless it — God bless you all." In the course of the day he said, " It is a great and glorious day." The last words he uttered were, " Jeiferson survives." But he had, at one o'clock, resigned his spirit into the hands of his God. When the news was spread throughout the country that these two men, who had been associated together in so many important labors, and whose names were identified with the glory and prosperity of their country, had both died on the same day, and on that which completed the half century since they signed the Declaration of Independence, of which one was the author, and the other the most powerful advocate and defender ; the effect was solemn and thrilling in the highest degree. It seemed a direct and special manifestation of God's power. The general feeling was, (to borrow the beautiful words of one of their eulogists,) "that had the prophet lent his ' chariot of fire,' and his ' horses of fire,' their ascent could hardly have been more glorious." In all parts of the country a day was set apart, by the large towns, for the solemn commemoration of their death, and men of the most distinguished talents were invited to pronounce their eulogies. All political prejudices were forgotten in the genera! burst of feeling ; nothing was recollected but their long lives of devoted patriotism, and the sublime circumstances which attended their close. The character of Mr. Adams has been displayed in his life so fully, that only a few remarks need now be made upon it. He was a man of bold and ardent temperament, and strong passions, and was occasionally led by them into imprudences and indiscretions. But his motives were always high and honorable. No man was less selfish, or less swayed by personal considerations. He was ready to sacrifice every thing to the public good. He thought for himself, and expressed his sentiments and opinions with great, sometimes with too great, boldness. He did not always treat with proper respect the views of those who differed from him, nor show a sufficient toleration to their honest prejudices. But his frank, manly, intrepid character and bearing, which kept nothing in reserve, and permitted his weakness and his strength to be equally seen, secured him the warm attachment of his friends, and the respect of his political enemies. His intellectual powers were of a high order. He had much of that vividness of conception, and glow of feeling, which belong to the temperament of genius. But there was nothing that was visionary and Utopian in his mind ; on the contrary, it was distinguished by a large share of the practical and useful, by good sense, judgment, shrewdness, and knowledge of the world. He had read and studied, both books and men, with great attention ; his writings bear witness to the former, and his life to the latter. He took large and comprehensive views, and saw a great way ahead ; we have already remarked in his life, that, from the first beginning of the disturbances, he clearly foresaw that it must end in a rupture between the two countries, and an appeal to arms ; and in this opinion he was almost alone for some time. Time has also shown, how correct his views were, with regard to the French Revolution, though they were those, at the moment, of a very small 91 ADAMS. majority. He was a nervous, eloquent, and impressive speaker ; and, iu this respect, had a decided advantage over his great rival, ]Mr. Jefferson. In their written compositions there was a marked difference ; each being characteristic of the temperament, education, and habits of tliought of the two. The style of Mr. Adams was vigorous, condensed, and abrupt, sacrificing elegance to strength, going straight to the point proposed, and not stopping to gather ornaments by the way ; that of Mr. Jefferson was more marked by ease, gracefulness, finish, and a happy selection of words, and by a vein of plulosophical reflection, which we do not see in the writings of Mr. Adams. The eloquence of Mr. Adams has been delineated in a passage of great power and splendor by Mr. Webster. Though often quoted, it is of such uncommon merit, both in thought and style, that we have no hesitation in transcribing it. " Tlie eloquence of INIr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed indeed a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momen- tous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech, farther than it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnest- ness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. I^abor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshaled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire after it, — they cannot reach it. It comes, if it comes at all, like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost tlieir power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself tlicn feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent : then self devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object, — this, this is elo- quence ; or rather, it is something greater and higher than eloquence, — it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action." The personal appearance and manners of Mr. Adams were not particularly prepossessing. His face, as his portraits manifest, was intellectual and expressive, but his figure was low and ungraceful, and his manners were frequently abrupt and uncourteous. He had neither the lofty dignity of W^ashington, nor the engaging elegance and gracefulness, which marked the manners and address of Jefferson. Mr. Adams was the father of four children, of whom none but the ADAMS. 95 Hon. John Quincy Adams are now living. Mr. Adams left to this son hi.s mansion house, and many valuable papers. He gave to the town of Cluincy a lot of land, to erect a church for the society, of which he was for sixty years a member. This edifice is now completed, and is one of the most beautiful churches in New-England. lie also bequeathed another lot of land to the town for an Academy, and his library, of more than two thousand volumes, for the use of that Academy. THOMAS JEFFERSON. The early life of any man so distinguished as the subject of this memoir, must ever be interesting, not only to the philosopher, who de- lights to follow the gradually expanding mind, from the weakness of infancy, through all the stages of existence, to the full maturity of man- hood, and to mark the effect of even trifling causes in ennobling or debasing the mind, and in forming the character ; but also, in a degree, to all, whose interest in mankind is not lost in self When we find a man, to whom have been intrusted the destinies of nations ; who has con- structed and set in motion great moral machines, whose influence and effects have been felt long after he has passed away; who has been active in promoting either the good or the evil of the human race; we naturally ask, whence he has sprung? With eager curiosity we look back, and in the sports of the child, in the pursuits and occupations of youth, we seek the origin and source of all that is noble and exalted in the man, the germ and the bud from which have burst forth the fair fruit and the beautiful flower ; and we carefully treasure up each trifling incident and childish expression, in the hope to trace in them some feature of his after greatness. Feeling that even the childhood of a man like Thomas Jefferson, and the growth of those feelings and opinions which afterwards embodied themselves in the Declaration of American Independence, would be interesting to every American, we should deem it fortunate, could we give even a short sketch of his early life. But of this, or of his family, we have few accounts ; and must, therefore, content ourselves with a general outline of his after life, so full of striking events and useful labors. Thomas Jefferson, the third President of the United States, was born on the second day of April, 1743, (Old Style,) at Shadwell, an estate own- ed by his father, in Albermarle County, Virginia, and near to Monticello, where he afterwards resided. His family emigrated at a very early period from a part of Wales, near Mount Snowden, as is supposed, and occu- pied a most respectable situation in the colony. His father, Peter Jeffer- son, although self educated, was a man of talent and science, as would appear from the fact, that he was appointed, together with Joshua Fry, then Professor of Mathematics, in William and Mary College, to com- plete the boundary line between Virginia and North Carolina, which had been begun some time before ; and also to make the first map of the State, since that made, or rather conjectured, by Captain Smith, could scarcely be called one. His father was married in 1739, to Jane, daugh- ter of Isham Randolph, by whom he had six daughters and two sons, of whom Thomas was the elder. 13 98 JEFFERSON. At tlie age of five years, Thomas was sent to an English school, and at the age of nine, was placed under the care of Mr. Douglass, with whom he continued till his father's death, in August, 1757 ; by which event he became possessed of the estate of Shadwell, his birth-place. The two years after his father's decease were passed under the instruc- tions of the Rev. Mr. Maury, who is represented to have been a fine classical scholar, at the termination of which period, that is, in 17G0, he entered William and Mary College, where he remained two years. While at this institution, he enjoyed the instruction and conversation of Dr. Small, Professor of Mathematics ; and we do not know how we can better express the benefit he received from that source, than in Jeffer- son's own words. " It was my great good fortune," says he, in the short memoir he has left us, " and probably fixed the destinies of my life, that Dr. William Small, of Scotland, was then Professor of Mathematics ; a man profound in most of the useful branches of science, with a happy talent of communication, correct and gentlemanly manners, and an enlarged and liberal mind. He, most happily for me, became soon attached to me, and made me his daily companion, when not engaged in the school; and from his conversation, I got my first views of the expansion of science, and of the system of things in which we are plac- ed. Fortunately, the philosophical chair became vacant soon after my arrival at college, and he was appointed to fill it per interim : and he was the first who ever gave, in that college, regular lectures in Ethics, Rhetoric, and Belles Lettres. He returned to Europe in 1763, having previously filled up the measure of his goodness to me, by procuring for me, from his most intimate friend, George Wythe, a reception as a student of law, under his direction, and introduced me to the acquain- tance and fiimiliar table of Governor Fauquier, the ablest man who had ever filled that office. With him and at his table, Dr. Small and Mr. Wythe, his amici omnium Iwrarum, and myself, formed a jjartie quarree, and to the habitual conversations on these occasions, I owed much instruc- tion. Mr. Wythe continued to be my faithful and beloved Mentor in youth, and my most aflTectionate friend through life." In 1767, Mr. Jefferson was called to the bar ; and for the short time he continued in the practice of his profession, rose rapidly, and distin- guished himself by his energy and acuteness as a lawyer, and by his enlarged and liberal views. But the times called for greater action ; and the dull pleadings and circumscribed sphere of a colonial court were ill fitted for such a mind and for such views as Jefferson's. The policy of England, never kind and affectionate towards her colonies, whom she was disposed to treat as a froward child, had for several years past, manifested itself in more open violations of the rights of her American subjects. Her ministers seemed blinded to consequences, and wholly forgetful that the same spirit of liberty, which led the Pilgrims across the Atlantic to seek a refuge from the oppressions of a king and an arch- bishop, would compel them, now that the arm of the oppressor had fol- lowed them across the waters, to resist even unto blood the exactions of a Parliament. This spirit of resistance was already roused among the colonists, and was gradually spreading itself from Massachusetts Bay to ( JEFFERSON. 90 the Carolinas ; and every proceeding of the mother country was scruti- nized and weighed with the utmost jealousy. This, then, was no time for mere professional labor ; the political arena was open, and the courts of law were soon deserted ; the rights of individuals were forgotten for the rights of nations ; the contests for things were neglected, in the con- test for principles. The enlarged views which Mr. Jefferson had ever entertained, soon led him to take an active part in political life, and he abandoned, in a great measure, the profession of the law. In 1769, he was elected a member of the General Assembly of Virginia, for Albemarle County, and it was in this body that he made his first effort in favor of the eman- cipation of slaves, but without success; for, as he himself remarks, under a regal government, and while every thing was to be made subservient to the interests of the mother country, " nothing liberal could expect success." This session was of short duration, the Assembly being very early dissolved by the Governor, Lord Botetourt, on account of some offensive resolutions which were passed, countenancing the proceedings of Massachusetts. Mr. Jefferson was, however, immediately reelected, and continued a member until the Revolution put an end to the meeting of those bodies. In 1773 the Legislature of Virginia appointed a committee of corres- pondence, of which Mr. Jefferson was one, to communicate with similar committees, which should be appointed in the other parts of the country, for the purpose of animating the people of the different colonies in their resistance to British aggression ; and the wisdom of this measure soon became apparent in the unity of operations which it produced during that eventful period, and in the community of sentiment and brotherhood among the inhabitants of the several colonies, whose cause was the same, and who now began to feel themselves one nation. The people of Virginia, though they had already shown themselves determined not to submit to any infringement of their liberties, were yet far behind Massachusetts in their opposition to the encroachments of the British government. They had not yet felt the full weight of the iron arm of oppression ; the acts of Parliament had pressed most heavily on Massachusetts; and the cup of her wrongs was nearly full, when the Boston Port Bill completed the measure. The passage of this bill sent a shock through the colonies, that roused them to a consideration of their situation; for although it was aimed at and intended to operate in a single place, yet it showed too well the determination of the government to de- stroy, one by one, the liberties of America ; it taught them that they must live and die the slaves of absolute power, or promptly and manfully make common cause with Massachusetts. The news of the passage of this bill was received while the Assembly of Virginia was in session ; and through the agency of Patrick Henry, Jefferson, and a tew other members, a resolution was passed, setting apart the first day of June, 1774, on which the act was to go into operation, as a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, " devoutly to implore the divine interposition for averting the heavy calamities which threatened destruction to their civil rights, and the evils of a civil war, and to give them one mind to oppose, by all just and proper means, every injury to American rights." 100 JEFFERSON. This resolution was of course highly offensive to the royal Governor, Lord Dunmore, who immediately had recourse to the usual expedient, and dissolved the assembly. He could not, however, prevent the mem- bers from meeting in convention as private individuals, which they immediately did, and passed resolutions, recommending the people of the colony to elect deputies to a State Convention, for the purpose of con- sidering the affairs of the colony, and also to appoint delegates to a a General Congress, in case such a measure should be agreed to by the other colonies. Mr. Jefferson was afterwards chosen a member of the State Convention, which met in pursuance of tliese resolutions, but was himself unable to attend from sickness. He sent them, however, a draught of some instructions for the delegates to the General Congress, which, though not adopted, were published by the convention, under the title of " A Summary View of the Rights of British America." The terms in which the rights of the colonies Avere asserted, the authority claimed by the Parliament absolutely and totally denied, and the conduct of the King and the administration commented upon, were esteemed so bold and severe by the majority of the members, that they refused to adopt them ; and, in consequence, more mild and temperate instructions were given. The pamphlet soon found its Avay to England, where, after undergoing some alterations by Mr. Burke, it was published, and several editions circulated. In consequence of this publication, Mr. Jefferson was threatened with a prosecution for high treason by Lord Dunmore, and in England his name was added to those of Hancock, Henry, the Adamses, and others, in a bill of attainder commenced in Parliament, but suppressed in its early stages. The doctrine advocated by Mr. Jefferson, however universally admitted at the present day, must then have been esteemed singularly bold, as is indeed evident from the fact, that it was disapproved by some of the most ardent patriots of the Revolution. The people, attached as they were to England, were certainly not prepared for it at that period. The substance of it is given by Mr. Jefferson as follows. " I took the ground that, from the beginning, I had thought the only one orthodox or tena- ble, which was, that the relation between Great Britain and these colonies, was exactly the same as that of England and Scotland, after the accession of James and until the Union, and the same as her present relations with Hanover, having the same executive chief, but no other necessary political cormexion ; and that our emigration from Eng- land to this country, gave her no more rights over us, than the emigra- tions of the Danes and Saxons, gave to the present authorities of the mother country over England. In this doctrine, however, I had never been able to get any one to agree with me but Mr. Wythe. Pie con- curred in it from the first dawn of the question, What was the political relation between us and England? Our other patriots, Randolph, the Lees, Nicholas, Pendleton, stopped at the half-way house of John Dickinson, who admitted that England had a right to regulate our com- merce, and to lay duties on it for the purposes of regulation, but not of raising revenue. But for this ground there was no foundation in com- pact, in any acknowledged principles of colonization, nor in reason ; JEFFERSON. 101 expatriation being- a natural right, and acted on as such by all nations, in all ages." The proceedings of the first Congress which met at Philadelphia on the fifth September, 1774, in pursuance of resolutions passed by the several colonies, similar to those of Virginia, do not properly belong to the life of Mr. Jefferson, who was not a member, and are therefore passed over here without remark. Before the meeting of the second Congress, however, Mr. Jefferson was elected in the place of Peyton Randolph, who, as Speaker of the House of Burgesses of Virginia, was obliged to attend the meeting of that body, and accordingly took his seat on the twenty-first June, 1775, and was very soon placed on several very important committees. As Mr. Jefferson, with his colleagues, Mr. Lee and Mr. Harrison, were on their way to Philadelphia, an incident is said to have occurred of a most flattering nature, showing the confidence placed in them by their fellow-citizens. They were met by some of the inhabitants of the colony, who, living in the remoter parts of the country, had heard only by report of the tyranny which was preparing for them, and thus ad- dressed : " You assert that there is a fixed design to invade our rights and privileges. We own that we do not see this clearly, but since you assure us that it is so, we believe the fact. We are about to take a very dangerous step, but we confide in you, and are ready to support you in every measure you shall think proper to adopt." In August, 1775, Mr. Jefferson was reelected by the Convention of Virginia, to the third Congress, and, during the winter, took an active part in all its proceedings. To us who now look calmly back on the events of that momentous period, the conduct of the British Ministry seems little short of infatua- tion. When the American colonists first raised their voice against the acts of the Parliament, it was but to obtain a redress of a few particular grievances ; the thought had not occurred to them of a separation from the mother country, and had it been but whispered to them, the proposi- tion would have been universally rejected. They loved their father- land ; they were Englishmen, or the sons of Englislmien, and they look- ed up to the institutions and the customs of England, with the deepest veneration. They would have endured any thing, but slavery, every thing, but the loss of those rights, which, as Englishmen, they believed unalienable, and which they held dearer than existence itself; and had the British Ministry but adopted conciliatory measures, and relaxed somewhat of their pretensions, they might still have retained the brightest jewel of the British crown. But instead of adopting the wise counsels of Chatham and Burke, they imposed greater burdens, and added insult to oppression, till it was too late; till the spirit of opposition had acquired a fearful and resistless energy ; till the cloud, at first no bigger than a man's hand, had spread over the whole heavens, and the storm burst with a violence that swept before it the firmest bulwar,ks of British power. For a year or two before the meeting of the Congress of '76, the belief that a separation from the mother country was necessary, had prevailed among the leading men of the colonies, and was now fast increasing 102 JEFFERSON. among the great body of the people. They felt that the period for reconciliation had gone by ; the blood of American citizens had been shed on the plains of Lexington and Concord, and on the heights of Bunker Hill, and nothing was now left but a resort to arms, and an as- sumption of their rights as an independent nation. On Friday, June seventh, 1776, in conformity with the instructions given them by the Convention, the Virginia delegates in Congress moved, " that the Congress should declare that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connexion between them and the State of Great Britain, is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; that measures should be immediately taken for procuring the assistance of foreign powers, and a confederation be formed to bind the colonists more closely together." A proposition like this, fraught as it was with the most momentous consequences, was not to be adopted hastily. It was very fully discussed on the Saturday and Monday fol- lowing, when the further consideration of it was postponed to the first day of July, and a committee of five were appointed in the mean time to draft a Declaration of Independence. This committee consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Dr. Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston. Mr. Jefferson, as chairman of the committee, was desired by his colleagues to prepare the draft. Here let us pause for a moment, and consider the causes, which, operating for a series of years, had at last led, or rather compelled, the colonists, to sever the ties which had so long bound them to England. The measures which Great Britain had adopted towards her American colonies, had ever been most arbitrary and unjust. These colonies had grown up entirely without her aid or fostering care. Separated by the wide Atlantic from every civilized nation, unassisted by the troops or the money of England, they had struggled successfully against all the dangers and disadvantages of their situation. With a savage foe con- tinually hovering on their borders, and whose incursions were every where marked by the blood of their wives and children, and the ashes of their dwellings, the settlers had still subdued the forests, cultivated the soil, built up flourishing towns over every part of the Atlantic States, and sent forth their ships to every part of the commercial world. When the parent saw her colonies thus rapidly increasing in wealth and power, and that, so far from being a burden and a drawback, they could be made a source of a great and continually growing revenue, it was then that she thought of protection. From that moment it became the fixed and determined policy of the British government to make America, in every thing, contribute to the wealth, the importance, and the glory of England ; and every measure tended to this end, no matter how injurious in its effects to the colonies. One of the first encroachments upon their rights was, by denying them the exercise of free trade with all parts of the world. In order to make them a source of profit, Great Britain was to be the depot of all their most valuable exports, which were afterwards to be shipped to other countries by the British merchant for his own benefit. All the most necessary articles for home consumption were to be purchased I JEFFERSON. 103 of the British manufacturers, at such prices as they, fearing no competi- tion Irom abroad, might choose to demand ; and, to enhance this profit, the colonies were not only forbidden to purchase of any other nation than England, but even to manufacture themselves. Or if this privilege vv'as in any case granted them, they were prohibited from advancing beyond the first stages, and were only allowed to prepare the material for the hands of the British workman ; and the Governors of the different pro- vinces were directed, under severe penalties, to abate the manufactories and mills of certain sorts as common miisances. But Great Britain did not content herself with barely regulating the commerce of her colonies, she soon interfered with their domestic affairs, and made manifest her deter- mination to reduce them to a state of absolute dependence and subjection. It is not our intention here to particularize all the various encroachments upon American liberties ; such detail would far exceed the narrow compass of this work. Let the Stamp Act, the Tea Act, the Boston Port Bill, bear witness to those invasions. But the descendants of those men who had dared all the hardships of an inhospitable shore, and an unexplored wilderness, were not to be tamely enslaved ; they were not the men to sit quietly by, and see their rights and liberties, as Englishmen, as men, one by one taken from them, without raising a voice or an arm in their defence. They believed, that although the Atlantic rolled between, they were still entitled to the same rights and the same privi- leges as British subjects in the old world, and they determined to contend for those rights. When the course of oppression began, they petitioned ; those petitions were but the occasion of new injuries. They remonstrated respectfiiUy, but firmly; those remonstrances were disregarded, insult was added to oppression, and every opportunity was taken to irritate and ex- asperate them. In vain did Burke raise his voice against this mad policy of the Ministry ; in vain did Chatham warn them of the disastrous conse- quences. Led on by a blind fite, they heeded not, they stopped not, till America, stript of every resource, and driven to desperation, could only appeal to arms. The moment when that appeal was to be made, so fidl of interest, so big with the destinies of a world, had now arrived. The step which was now to be taken, could never be retraced ; the declaration now to be made could never be recalled ; once made, there could be no hope of reconciliation but in absolute submission. The Rubicon was before them. On the one side was slavery ; on the other — clouds and darkness. What must have been the feelings of that man — what the emotions which swelled his breast — who was charged with the preparation of that Declaration, which, while it made known the wrongs of America, was also to publish her to the world, free, sovereign, and independent ? For himself he had not a thought ; a cold, calculating prudence, in vain warned him how great was the risk, how few the chances of success ; in vain told him of his country pillaged by foreign troops, and deluged in the blood of its own citizens; in vain pointed to the gibbet, the rebel's doom. What though the loss of all things, and the death of a traitor were before him — it was his country demanded the sacrifice, and it was cheerfully made. Through all the darkness of the present, he saw the brightness of the 104 JEFFERSON. future ; lie saw, in imagination, his country the abode of a free and happy people, and he was content ; his hand trembled not, as he wrote, America, Free and Independent. Living as we now do in a free land, far removed from all the troubles and vicissitudes of war, in the full enjoyment of liberties, which seem as necessary to our existence as the air we breathe, we can hardly conceive of the thoughts which must have crowded on the mind of Jefferson, while penning the Declaration of Independence. A man of weaker mind, or less firmness and decision of character, would have been overwhelmed, and have shrunk in dismay from the task. But Jefferson did not disap- point the high expectations which had been formed of him. He went to his task with the full assurance that his cause was the cause of liberty ; and he rose from it confirmed in the resolution, to die, if necessary, in its defence. The Declaration of Independence is one of the most remarka- ble papers ever written ; and did no other effort of the mind of its author exist, that alone would be sufiicient to stamp his name with immortality. The Declaration, as drafted by Mr. Jefferson, was by him submitted to his colleagues, and, after a few unimportant alterations made by them, was reported by the committee, and read on Friday, the twenty-eighth of June. The original motion made by the Virginia delegation, namely, that Congress should declare the colonies free, sovereign, and indepen- dent, having been disposed of in the afth-mative, on Tuesday, the second of July, by a vote of all the States except New- York, (whose members did not consider themselves authorized by their instructions to vote on this question,) Congress proceeded to a consideration of the Declaration, which, after being debated during the greater parts of the second, third, and fourth of July, and after some passages which were thought objectionable had been stricken out, and some other alterations made, was finally agreed to by the House, and signed on the evening of the fourth by all the members present, except Mr. Dickinson. The Declaration of Independence is so intimately connected with the name of Thouias Jefferson, that any sketch of his life would seem imper- fect without it. We therefore present it as originally reported by him, together with the alterations of Congress. A Declaration by the Representatives of the United States of America, in [General] Congress assembled.* When in the course of human events, it becomes neces- sary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind, requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. * The parts struck out by Congress are printed in italics, and enclosed in brackets ; und the parts added are placed in the margin, or in a concurrent column. JEFFERSON. 105 We hold tlirsc (riill)s to be self evident : that nil men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Crea- tor with [Inhrnmt and] inalienable rights ; tliat among certain these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness ; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it ; and to institute new government, lay- ing its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate, that governments long established, should not be changed for light and transient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown, that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are suffcrable, than to right them- selves, by abolishing the forms to which they are accus- tomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations [begun at a distinguislie.d period and] pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient suffer- ance of these colonies ; and such is now the necessity \vliich constrains them to [expunge^ their former systems alter of government. The history of the present King of Great Britain, is a history of l^unrcmiiting] injuries and usurpa- repeated tions, [ninong vjliich appears no solitary fact to contradict all having ike uniform tenor of the rest, but all have] in direct object the establishment of an absokite tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world, [for the truth of ivhich we pledge a faith yet unsullied by falsehood.] He has refused his assent to laws the most wholesome, and necessary for the public good. He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of immedi- ate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation, till his assent should be obtained, and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other laws, for the accommoda- tion of large districts of people, unless those people M'ould relinquish the right of representation in the legis- lature, a right inestimable to them, and formidable to tyrants only. He has called together legislative bodies at places unu- sual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them !. into compliance with his measures. He has dissolved representatives houses repeatedly [and 14 106 JEFFERSON. cuntiniudlij'] for opposing with manly firmness, his inva- sions on the rights of the people. He has refused for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected, whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise, the state remaining, in the mean time, exposed to all the dangers of invasion from without, and convulsions within. He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturali- zation of foreigners, refusing to pass others to encourage their migrations hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands, obstructed He has [suffered] the administration of justice, \totalhj jjy to cease in some of these states,] refusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. He has made [our] judges dependant on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries. He has erected a multitude of new offices, \by a self- assumed potcer] and sent hither swarms of new officers, to harass our people, and eat out their substance. He has kept among us in times of peace, standing armies [and ships of tear] without the consent of our legislatures. He has aflected to render the military independent of, and superior to, the civil power. He has combined with others, to subject us to a jurisdic- tion foreign to our constitutions, and unacknowledged by our laws, giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation, for quartering large bodies of armed troops among us ; for protecting them by a mock trial from pun- ishment for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states; for cutting off our trade with all parts of the world ; for imposing taxes on us with in many cases out our consent ; for depriving us [ ] of the benefits of trial by jury ; for transporting us beyond seas, to be tried for pretended offences; for abolishing the fi"ee system of English laws, in a neighboring province; establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boun- daries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instru- ment for introducinor the same absolute rule into these colonies [states ;] for taking away our charters, abolishing our most valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our governments ; for suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with power to legislate for us, in all cases whatsoever. by declaring He has abdicated government here, [witJiclrawing his gov- us out of hi.s ernors,anddeclaringusoutof his allegiance and protection.] protection, and waging war against us JEFFERSON. 107 He has plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people. He is at this time transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries, to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty, and perfidy, [ ] unworthy the head of a civilized nation. scarcely pa- He has constrained our fellow-citizens taken captive on ralleled in the the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to be- most barbar- come the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to ous ages, and fall themselves by their hands. totally He has [ ] endeavored to bring on the inhabitants of excited do- our frontiers, the merciless Indian savages, whose known mestic insur- rule of warfare, is an undistinguished destruction of all rections a- ages, sexes, and conditions [of cxistc7icc.^ mong us and [He has incited treasonable insurrections of our fellow- jj^s citizens, toith the allurements of forfeiture, and confiscation of 07tr property. He has waged cruel war against human nature itself, violating its most sacred rights of life and liberty, in the persons of a distant people, tvho never offended him,, cap- tivating and carrying them into slavery in another hemis- phere, or to incur miserable death in their transportation thither. This piratical warfare, the opprobiuin of infidel powers, is the warfare of the Christian King of Great Britain. Determined to keep open a marTcet, where men should be bought and sold, he has prostituted his negative for suppressing every Icgislcdive attempt to prohibit or to restrain this execrable commerce. And that this assemhlage of horrors might want no fact of distinguished die, he is noio exciting those very people to rise in arms among us, and to purchase that liberty of which he has deprived them, by murdei^ing the people on whom he also obtruded them: thus paying off former crimes committed against the liberties of one people, unth crimes ivhich he urges them to commit against the lives of another.'] In every stage of these oppressions, we have petitioned for redress, in the most humble terms ; our repeated peti- tions have been answered only by repeated injuries. A prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a [ ] free people, [wlio mean to be free. Future ages will scarcely believe, that the hardiness of one man adventured, within the short compass of ttvelve years only, to lay a foundation so broad and so undisguised for tyranny, over a people fostered and fixed in principles of freedom.] Nor have we been wanting in attentions to our British bretlnen. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature, to extend [«] jurisdiction an uuwar- over [these our states.] We have reminded them of the rantable us 108 JEFFERSON. have and we have conjured them by would inevi- tably circumstances of our emigration and settlement here, [no one of which could warrant so strange a pretension : that these were effected at the expense of our oton blood and treasure, unassisted by the wealth or the strength of Great Britain : that in constituting indeed our several forms of government, we had adopted one common king, thereby lay- ing a foundation for perpetual league and amity with them, but that submission to their Parliament, icas no part of our constitution, nor ever in idea, if history may be credit- ed, andl we [ ] appealed to their native justice and mag- nanimity, [«s locU as to'\ the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations which \were likely to] inter- rupt our connexion and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity, [and tvhen occasions have been given them, by the regular course of their Icavs, of removing from their councils the disturbers of our harmony, they hare, by their free election, reestablished them in power. At this very time, too, they are permitting their Chief Magistrate to send over not only soldiers of our common blood, bat Scotch and foreign mer- cenaries, to invade and destroy us. These facts have given the last stab to agonizing affection, and manly sjiirit bids us to renounce forever these unfeeling brethren. We must endeavor to forget our former love for them, and hold them as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends. We might have been a free and a great people together; but a cotnmunication of grandeur and of free- dom, it seems, is below their dignity. Be it so, since they will have it. The road to happiness and to glory is open to us too. We will tread it apart from them, and] acqui- esce in the necessity which denounces our [etey-nal] sep- aration [ ] ! We must therefore and hold them as we hold the rest of man- kind, enemies in war, in peace friends. We therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in general Congress assembled, do in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these [states re- ject and renounce all cdlegiance and subjection to the Kings of Great Britain, and all others, ivho may hereafter claim by, through, or un- der them ; we utterly dissolve all political connexion which may here- We therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in general Congress assembled, appeal- ing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our inten- tions, do in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and de- clare, that these united colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states ; that they are JEFFERSON, 109 tofore have subsisted between us and the people or Parliament of Great Sritain; and finally loe do assert and declare these colonics to be free and independent states'] and that, as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, con- clude peace, contract alliances, es- tablish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which inde- pendent states may of right do. And for the support of this declara- tion, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. absolved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connexion between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that, as free and independent states, they have full power to levy war, con- clude peace, contract alliances, es- tablish commerce, and to do all other acts and things, which inde- pendent states may of right do. And for the support of this decla- ration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. Mr. Jefferson continued an active member of the second Congres.s, and was appointed, together with Dr. Franklin and Silas Deane, a Com- missioner to the Court of France, to negotiate treaties of alliance and commerce with that nation, but was compelled, on account of the state of his health, and other causes of a private nature, to decline the appoint- ment. During the year 1776, the people of Virginia had been occupied in forming a constitution and plan of government for that state, and now that the more important measures of Congress had been carried, and the bark of Independence fairly launched, and though still tossing upon a wide and tempestuous sea, was yet under the guidance of bold hearts and strong hands, Mr. Jefferson turned his attention to his native state, and thinking that he could be of more use in her counsels, resigned the seat to which he had been elected in the third Congress, in September, 1776, and having been returned a member of the state legislature, immediate- ly took his seat in that body in the following October. Early in the session, a committee was appointed in pursuance of a mo- tion made by Mr. Jefferson, to make a careful revision of the laws of the state. This committee consisted of Mr. Jefferson, Edmund Pendleton, George Mason, Thomas L. Lee, and George Wythe, the former instructor of Jefferson, and afterwards Chancellor of Virginia. From this commit- tee Mr. Mason and Mr. Lee soon excused themselves, considering them- selves as not qualified for the undertaking, on account of their not being lawyers. The work was therefore divided between the other three mem- bers, who in June, 1779, reported to the legislature a code of laws, comprised in the compass of one hundred and twenty -six bills. A few of these were from time to time passed by the legislature, as occasion or necessity required, but the greater part were deferred until after the peace in 178.5, when most of them were enacted with little alteration. The labors of Mr. Jefferson, while a member of this committee, were so various and so extensive, that it would be impossible to convey an adequate idea of them, without encroaching upon other matters, of equal 110 JEFFERSON. importance, and, perchance, of more interest. Mr. Jeiferson has perhaps been considered by many, as an innovator; as too fond of destroying the old established customs and laws of society, and substituting in their place, the fanciful theories of his own brain. He had, it is true, no veneration for old laws and customs, merely because they were old ; he looked alone to their justice, and their adaptedness to human nature, and the existing state of things ; and if he found not those qualities in them, their antiquity was no protection. He was not willing to live under a bad law, because his fathers had done so, when a better one could be obtain- ed. But whether the charge of love of innovation be just or not, it must be confessed by all, that the alterations introduced by his means, into the constitution and laws of Virginia, were changes of the most beneficial nature. Many of these were important, as tending to abolish those cus- toms of the old countries, which, whenever introduced, or suffered to re- main in a newly established nation, must prove serious obstructions to its growth and prosperity — such, for instance, as the laws converting estates tail into fee-simple, abolishing the right of primogeniture, and establish- ing the freedom of religious opinion. To these may be added the laws for the general establishment of schools, and the abolishment of the slave trade — all these were proposed, and eventually carried, though with modi- fications in some cases, almost exclusively by the exertions of Mr. Jeffer- son. " I considered," says Mr. Jefferson, " four of these bills, passed or reported, as forming a system, by which every fibre would be eradi- cated, of ancient or future aristocracy; and a foundation laid for a go- vernment truly republican. The repeal of the laws of entail, would pre- vent the accumulation and perpetuation of wealth, in select families, and preserve the soil of the country from being daily more and more absorbed in mortmain. The abolition of primogeniture, and equal partition of inheritances, removed the feudal and unnatural distinctions which made one member of every family rich, and all the rest poor, substituting equal partition, the best of all Agrarian laws. The restoration of the rights of conscience, relieved the people from taxation, for the support of a religion not theirs; for the establishment" (that is, of the Church of England,) " was truly the religion of the rich, the dissenting sects being entirely composed of the less wealthy people ; and these, by the bill for a general education, would be qualified to understand their rights, to maintain them, and to exercise with intelligence their parts in self government : and all this would be effected, without the violation of a single natural • . . . . ^ right, of any one mdividual citizen." In June, 1779, Mr. Jefferson was elected successor to Mr. Henry, as Governor of Virginia, a situation of peculiar difficulty, to one so entirely unused to military matters. Yet even here his genius showed itself equal to every emergency, and every thing was done by him that could be, to protect the state from the attacks made by the traitor Arnold on the seaboard, and Tarlton and Cornwallis on the southern frontier : but in 1781, the term for which he was elected having expired, believing that the people would be better satisfied with having a military man at the head of affairs, and the defence of the country better conducted, he resigned the office and was succeeded by General Nelson. JEFFERSON. Ill But two days after his resignation, Mr. Jefferson narrowly escaped being made a prisoner by Tarlton, who, with his regiment of horse, had been despatched by Lord Cornwallis, for the purpose of surprising the Governor, and the members of the Assembly, then in session at Charlottes- ville. Notice of the approach of the enemy was, however, brought to Charlottesville so early, that the members had time to escape. Mr. Jefferson was at breakfast with his family and some guests, when the intelligence of this movement was received at Monticello. He im- mediately sent off his family to a place of safety, while he himself re- mained to make some arrangements in his house, and w'hile so occupied, a neighbor rode up to inform him that the enemy were then actually ascending the hill at full speed, and so near were they, that he had barely time to throw himself upon his horse and plunge into the woods, by which means he escaped the search that was made for him. Soon after Mr. Jefferson's retirement from office, however, some mem- bers of the then legislature, believing, or pretending to believe, that he had been remiss, and culpably negligent, in the measures which he had adopted for the defence of the seaboard, at the time of Arnold's descent upon Richmond, moved for an investigation of his conduct. To this neither Mr. Jefferson or his friends made any opposition, and at the ses- sion of the legislature, when the investigation was to have taken place, the movers, convinced that there was no ground for complaint, wholly de- clined the farther prosecution of the charges. It has been a distinguishing feature in the lives of some of the most celebrated characters the world has ever produced, that, amidst the con- fusion of war or the cares of state, they have still, with that true econo- my so little understood, the economy oi" minutes, found time to devote to the cause of literature and science. It was so with Mr. Jefferson at this period. Notwithstanding the conspicuous part he had taken in public affairs, and the laborious duties he had been called upon to perform, amidst all the tumult of a civil war, he had still found time for works of a more peaceful nature. During the year 1781, M. de Marbois, Secretary of the French Legation in the United States, having been instructed by his own Court, to obtain all useful statistical information concerning the American States, that was m his power, addressed some inquiries to Mr. Jefferson, concerning Virginia. Mr. Jefferson had ever been in the habit of committing to writing, all the information he could at any time collect, and the numerous memoranda he had in this way obtained, now furnished him with materials for his answers to M. de Marbois' questions. These he replied to at great length, giving a most interesting statement of the natural history, the soil, productions, institutions, and statistics of his native state. This work was afterwards published by him, under the title of " Notes on Virginia." But in those times of emergency and danger, talents of so high an order as Mr. Jefferson's, could not long be spared by his country, and she therefore soon made a new call for his services. In the early part of 1781, Mr. Jefferson had been appointed a Minister Plenipotentiary, to- gether with Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, Mr. Laurens, and Dr. Franklin, for the negotiation of peace which was then expected to take place. His ill 112 JEFFERSON. health, and the shuation of affairs at homo, however, compelled him to decline the appointment, and no progress was ever made in regard to the treaty. In 17S2, he was again appointed a commissioner for the same purpose, and the hope of promoting the public interests, and at the same time of restoring his own health by a change of climate, induced hnn to accept the appointment ; but before his embarkation, news was received that the preliminaries of peace had already been signed by the other ministers, and he was therefore excused. , . In 1783 and -1, we find Mr. Jefferson again in Congress, and active in all important measures, especially as chairman of the committee upon the state of the treasury, and also of the committee to which was referred the definitive treaty of peace between Great Britain and the United States, which was finally ratified by this Congress, on the fourteenth January, 1784. On the seventh May, of the same year, in pursuance of a vote of Congress, Mr. Jefterson was appointed, together with Mr. Adams, and Dr. Franklin, who were then in Europe, a Minister Plenipotentiary for the purpose of forming treaties of commerce w^ith foreign nations, and accordingly embarked, with his eldest daughter, at Boston, on the fifth of July, and, after a pleasant voyage, arrived at Paris on the sixth of August, where he was immediately joined by Dr. Franklin, and soon after by Mr. Adams. The commissioners were by no means as suc- cessful in their attempts to form treaties, as had been anticipated, and at the end of a year, spent in almost fruitless negotiations, the only powers with whom treaties had been effected, were Prussia and Morocco, and their commission expired without any thing of importance having been accomplished. In February, 1186, Mr. Jefferson, who had been previously appointed to succeed Dr. Franklin, as Minister to France, at the solicitation of Mr. Adams, then at the Court of St. James, went over to England, in the hope of effecting a treaty of commerce with that nation : how dis- couraging w^as his reception, can best be learnt from his own words. " On my'presentation," says he, " as usual, to the King and Queen at their levies, it was impossible for any thing to be more ungracious, than their notice of IMr. Adams and myself. I saw at once, that the ulcera- tions of mind in that quarter, left nothing to be expected on the subject of my attendance: and on the first conference with the Marquis of Caermarthen, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, the distance and disincHna- tion which he betrayed in his conversation, the vagueness and evasions of his answers to us, confirmed me in the belief of their aversion to have any thing to do with us." Mr. Jefferson, therefore, finding his visit fruit- less, returned to Paris on the thirtieth of April, after an absence of seven weeks. It would be useless, in this hasty sketch, to attempt to give any account of the various diplomatic transactions in which Mr. Jefferson was engag- ed, during his residence in France, a period of little more than five years, from August, 1784, to October, 1789, especially, as they would not 1k> of great interest to the general reader. As the representative of a new country at a foreign court, there was, of course, much to be done by him, yet there was nothing which required the exercise of any great talents or JEFFERSON. 113 powers of mind, at least when compared with the scenes of deep and eventful interest through which we have lately followed him ; and after contemplating such scenes and such transactions, the mere details of business and diplomatic negotiations must necessarily appear dull and even insignificant. But the years passed by Mr. Jefferson in Europe, although not now so interesting to most readers, as the other periods of his life, was still one of great enjoyment to him. Fond as he had ever been of science, the stirring scenes in which he had been called to take so conspicuous a part, had allowed him little time for study and investiga- tion : that time, it is true, had been carefully employed, but he now found full opportunity for the free indulgence of his literary and scientific tastes. In the most polite court in Europe, surrounded by the most learned men of the age, honored and esteemed by them, not only as a statesman, but as a philosopher, he led a life most congenial to a mind like his, so eager in the pursuit of knowledge, and so capable of enjoying all that was elegant and refined. He was, too, the friend of Franklin, and so great was the enthusiasm felt by the French people for that remarkable man, that to be his friend, was of itself, apart from all other circumstances of public character, a sufficient passport to the society and friendship of Condorcet, Buffon, D'Alembert, and all the wise and learned of the French capital. To the happiness Mr. Jefferson experienced there, and the many pleasant attachments formed there, must be in part attributed the strong preference he ever afterwards exhibited towards that nation. In his memoirs, when speaking of his departure from France on his re- turn to America, he adds, " And here I cannot leave this great and good country, without expressing my sense of its preeminence of charac- ter among the nations of the earth. A more benevolent people I have never known, nor greater warmth and devotedness in their select friend- ships. Their kindness and accommodation to strangers is unparalleled, and the hospitality of Paris is beyond any thing I had conceived to be practicable in a large city. Their eminence too in science, the commu- nicative dispositions of their scientific men, the politeness of the general manners, the ease and vivacity of their conversation, give a charm to their society, to be found no where else. In a comparison of this with other countries, we have the proof of primacy, which was given to The- mistocles after the battle of Salamis. Every general voted to himself the first reward of valor, and the second to Themistocles. So, ask the trav- elled inhabitant of any nation. In what country on earth would you rather live 1 Certainly in my own, where are all my friends, my relations, and the earliest and sweetest affections and recollections of my life. Which would be your second choice ? France." Yet notwithstanding his love of France and its society, America still held the first place in his heart, and, amidst all the refinement and learn- ing of Paris, he often sighed for the retirement of Monticello. In a letter to the Baron Geismer, dated at Paris, September sixth, 1785, he says, " The character in which 1 am here, at present, confines me to this place, and will confine me as long as I continue in Europe. How long this will be, I cannot tell. I am now of an age, which does not easily accommodate itself to new manners and new modes of living, and I am 15 114 JEFFERSON. savage enough to prefer the woods, the wilds, and the independence of Monticello, to all the brilliant pleasures of this gay capital. I shall therefore rejoin myself to my native country, with new attachments, and with exaggerated esteem for its advantages ; for though there is less wealth thcTe, there is more freedom, more ease, and less misery." Mr. Jefferson was naturally led, during his residence in Europe, to com- pare the state of the French people, their advancement in morals, in science, and the arts of life, with his own countrymen. As a citizen of a new republic, where perfect freedom of religious opinions existed, and where the only end of government was to improve the people, and deeply anxious as to the result of the great experiment which was then on trial. Whether the people could rule themselves ? — he was constantly watching the effects of the government, and the long established institutions of France, on the character and happiness of the people, and instituting comparisons between the inhabitants of that and of his own land ; and although America was even then suffering all the evils which a lono- and 111 •• ^ bloody war, carried on m the midst of her own territories, had inflicted on her, the result of his observations was uniformly in her favor. In a letter to Mr. Bellini, dated Paris, 1785, he thus expresses himself — " Be- hold me at length on the vaunted scene of Europe ! It is not necessary for your information, that I should enter into details concerning it. But you are, perhaps, curious to know how this new scene has struck a sa- vage of the mountains of America. Not advantageously, I assure you. I find the general fate of humanity here most deplorable. The truth of Voltaire's observation offers itself perpetually, that every man here must be either the hammer or the anvU. While the great mass of the people are thus suffering under physical and moral oppression, I have endeavor- ed to examine more nearly the condition of the great, to appreciate the true value of the circumstances in their situation, which dazzle the bulk of spectators, and, especially, to compare it with that degree of happinesss which is enjoyed in America by every class of people. Intrigues of love occupy the younger, and those of ambition the elder part of the great. Conjugal love having no existence among them, domestic ha{)piness, of which that is the basis, is utterly unknown. In lieu of this, are substitut- ed pursuits which nourish and invigorate all our bad passions, and which offer only moments of ecstacy, amidst days and months of restlessness and torment. Much, very much inferior, this, to tlie tranfjuil, perma- nent felicity, with which domestic society in America blesses most of its inhabitants ; leaving them to follow steadily those pursuits which health and reason approve, and rendering truly delicious the intervals of thode pursuits. " Ini science the mass of the people is two centuries behind ours ; their literati, half a dozen years before us. With respect to what are termed polite manners, without sacrificing too much the sincerity of language, I would wish my countrymen to adopt just so much of European politeness, as to be ready to make all those little sacrifices of self, which really ren- der European manners amiable, and relieve society from the disagreeable scenes to which rudeness often subjects it. Here, it seems that a man might pass a life without encountering a single rudeness. In the plea- JEFFERSON. lli> sures of the table they are far before us, because with good taste they unite temperance. They do not terminate the most sociable meals by trans- forming themselves" into brutes. I have never yet seen a man drunk in France", even among the lowest of the people. Were I to proceed to tell you how much I enjoy their architecture, sculpture, painting, music, I should want words. It is in these acts they shine. The last of them, particu- larlv, is an enjoyment, the deprivation of which with us cannot be calcu- lated. I am almost ready to say, it is the only thing which from my heart I envy them, and which, in spite pf all the authority of the Deca- logue, I do covet." In another letter to Mr. Wythe, dated Paris, August, ITSC, when speaking of the revision of the laws in which the Assembly of Virginia had been engaged, he writes — " I think, by far the most important bill in our whole code, is that for the diffusion of knowledge among the peo- ple. No other sure foundation can be devised for the preservation of freedom and happiness. If any body thinks that kings, nobles, or priests, are good conservators of the public happiness, send him here. It is the best school in the universe, to cure him of that folly. He will see here with his own eyes, that these descriptions of men are an abandoned confederacy ajrainst the happiness of the mass of the people. The om- nipotence of their effect cannot be better proved, than in this country particularly, where notwithstanding the finest soil upon earth, the finest climate under heaven, and a people of the most benevolent, the most gay and amiable character, of which the human form is susceptible ; where such a people, I say, surrounded by so many blessings from nature, are loaded with misery' by kings, nobles, and priests, and by them alone. Preach, my dear Sir, a crusade against ignorance ; establish and im- prove the law for educating the common people. Let our countrymen know, that the people alone can protect us against these evils, and that the tax which will be paid for this purpose, is not more than the thou- sandth part of what will be paid to kings, priests, and nobles, who will rise up among us if we leave the people in ignorance." During Mr. Jefferson's residence in Europe, his official duties demand- ed so much of his attention, and confined him so closely to Paris, that he had few opportunities for visiting the other parts of the continent. "\\ e have already mentioned, that soon after his appointment, at the request of Mr. Adams, and in the hope of effecting a commercial treaty with England, he visited London. He also went to the Hague at a later period, to meet Mr. Adams, for the purpose of negotiating a loan to Con- gress, and returned thence along the banks of the Rhine. In the early part of 1787, having suffered much from a dislocated wrist, he was in- duced to try the warm mineral springs of Aix, in Provence, in the hope that they would prove beneficial, but not finding them of the service he had expected, he took the opportunity to visit the southern provinces of France, and the northern parts of Italy ; and the short journal he has left us, is enough to make us regret that he had not possessed more leisure, or that fortune had not made him a traveller. While in Paris, Mr. Jefferson became acquainted with Ledyard, the celebrated American traveller, who had come there with the intention of 116 JEFFERSON. farming a companj fi>r the prosecution of the fur trade oa the Dorthwe^t coast, and in which plan he found an active coadjutor in Paul Jones, who was at that time in France. Xot succeeding in this, Mr. Jefferson avviKted to him the idea of a joumev throush the Russian dominions to Kamschatta : thence to cross to Xootka Sound, and return across the ccmtinent of America to the United States. This plan was readilj adopt- ed by Ledyard, who was eager for any expedition of discovery, whether to Hk frozen regions of Siberia, or the burning deserts of Africa. Mr. Jefferson accordingly imdertook to obtain the permission of the Empress Catharine, for him to journey throuzh her dominions. This, however, was peremptorily refused by the Empress. Bat Ledyard, once started in an enterprise, was not to be deterred by an obstacle of this nature ; he therefore left Paris for St. Petersburg, thinking that in person he might obtain the necessary permission. Xot finding the Empress at St. Peters- burg, and unwilling to suffer any delay, he proceeded without it, and had actuaUv arrived on the banks of the Lena, and within a few days' journey of Kamscbatka, when he was overtaken by officers despatched after him, brought back to the frontiers of Russia, and there dismissed. Hitherto we have regarded Mr. Jefferson merely as a statesman, but it is not in this li^ht only that he is to be viewed. Daring all the time of his residence abroad, the numerous letters to his friends in America, de- tailing all the new discoveries made m science and the arts, prove how deeplv he was interested in those subjects ; and the fbllowmg letter will show how readily he could turn from the cares of state, to familiar inter- course of the lightest and most sportive kind. Of the lady to whom it was addressed we know nothing, but we are confident its playfiilness and the goodness of heart which it exhibits, vrill prove an ample apology for the length of the extract " To Mrs. Coswat. " Paris, October 12, 1766. " My dear Madam, " Having performed the last sad office of handing you into your car- riage, at the pavilion de St. Denis, and seen the wheels get actually into motion, I turned on my heel and walked, more dead than alive, to the opposite door, where my own was awaiting me. Mr. Danquerville was missing. He was sought for, found, and dragged down stairs. We were crammed into the carriage, like recruits for the Bastile ; and not having soul enough to give orders to the coachman, he presumed Paris -our des- tination, and drove off. After a considerable interval, silence was broke, with a " Je suis rraimenf aff.ige du dtpart de ces bons gens." This was a signal for mutual confession of distress. We began immediately to talk of Mr. and Mrs. Cosway, of their goodness, their talents, their amia- bility : and though we spoke of nothing else, we seemed hardly to have entered into the matter, when the coachman announced the Rue St. Denis, and that we were opposite Mr. Danquerville's. He insisted on descending there, and traversing a short passage to his lodgings, I was carried home. Seated by my fireside, solitary and sad, the following dialogue took place between my Head and my Heart. " Head. Well, friend, you seem to be in a pretty trim. JEFFERSON. 117 " Heart. I am indeed the nsost wretched of all earthly beings. Over- whelmed with grief, ererv fibre of mj frame distended bevond its natural powers to bear, I would willinglv meet whatever catastrophe should leave me no more to feel or to fear. " Head. These are the eternal consequences of yoxir warmth and pre- cipitation. This is one of the scrapes inio which you are ever leadin» us. You confess your follies, indeed : but still you hug^ and cherish them : and no reformation can be hoped, where there b no repentance. " Heart. Oh I my friend, this is no moment to upbraid my foibles. I am rent into fragments by the force of my grief! If you have any balm, pour it into my wounds ; if none, do not harrow them by new torments. Sp-.re me in this awful moment. At any other, I will attend with pa- liriice to your admonitions. " Head. On the contrary, I never found that the moment of triumph, with you. was the moment of attention to my admonitions. "While suffer- ing under your follies, you may j>erhaps be made sensible of them : bat the paroxysm over, you fancy it can never return. Harsh, therefore, as the medicine may be, it is my office to administer it. * * * * * * * * * I wish to make you sensible how imprudent it is to place joar affections without reserve on objects you must so soon lose, and whose loss, when it comes, must cost you such severe pan^s. Remember the last night. You knew your friends were • ' "--•.' This was enough to throw you into agonies. All : _ — - ; m one side of the bed to the other : no sleep, no rest. The poor crippled wrist, too, never left one moment in the same position : now up, now down, now- here, now there : was it to be wondered at if its pains returned ? The surgeon then was to be called, and to be rated as an ignoramus, because he could not divine the cause of this extraordinary change. In fine, mr friend, you must mend your manners. This is not a world to live at random in, as you do. To avoid those eternal distresses, to which you are forever exposing us, you must learn to look forward before you take a step, which may interest our peace. Every thing in this world is matter of calculation. Advance, then, with caution : the balance in your hand. Put into one scale the pleasures which any object may offer ; but pat fairly iuto the other the pains which are to follow, and see which prepoo- deraies. The making an acquaintance is not a maner of indifference. When a new one b prc^>osed to you, view it all round. Consider what advantages it presents, and to what inconveniences it may eicpoee yoa. Do not bite at the bait of pleasure, till you know there is no hook beneath it. The art of life is the art of avoiding pain : and he is the best pilot, who steers clearest of the rocks and shoals with which it is beset. Pleasure is always before us, but misfortune is at our side : while running after that, this arrests us. The most effectual means of being secure asrainst pain, is to retire within ourselves, and to suffice foa- our o^vn happiness. Those which depend on ourselves, are the only pleasures a wise man will count on : for nothincj is our o«ti, which another mar deprive us of. Hence the inestimable value of intellectual pleasures. Ever in our own power, always leading us to something new, never cloying, we ride secure and sublime above the concerns of this mMial wcwrld, ccaitemplaiing trutli 118 JEFFERSON. and nature, matter and motion, the laws which bind up their existence, and that eternal Being, who made and bound them up by those laws. Let this be our employ. Leave the bustle and tumult of society to those who have not talents to occupy themselves without them. Friendship is but another name for an alliance with the follies and the misfortunes of others. Our own share of miseries is sufficient. Why enter, then, as volunteers into those of another? Is there so little gall poured into our cup, that we must need help to drink that of our neighbor? A friend dies or leaves us : we feel as if a limb was cut off. He is sick : we must watch over him and participate of his pains. His fortune is shipwrecked : ours must be laid under contribution. He loses a child, a parent, or a partner : we mu.st mourn the loss as if it were our own. Heart. And what more sublime delight, than to mingle tears with one whom the hand of Heaven hath smitten ! to watch over the bed of sickness, and to beguile its tedious and its painful moments ! to share our bread with one to whom misfortune has left none ! This world abounds indeed with misery ; to lighten its burden, we must divide it with one another. But let us now try the virtue of your mathematical balance ; and as you have put into one scale the burdens of friendship, let me put its comforts into the other. When languishing, then, under disease, how gratefid is the solace of our friends ! how are we penetrated with their assiduities and attentions ! how much are we supported by their encourage- ments and kind offices ! When Heaven has taken from us some object of our love, how sweet is it to have a bosom whereon to recline our heads, and into which we may pour the torrent of our tears ! Grief with such a comfort is almost a luxury. In a life where we are perpetually exposed to want and accident, yours is a wonderful proposition, to insulate our- selves, to retire from all aid, and to wrap ourselves in the mantle of self- sufficiency ! For assuredly, nobody will care for him, who cares for nobody. But friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life ; and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine. I will recur for proof to the days we have lately passed. On these, indeed, the sun shone brightly ! How gay did the face of nature appear ! Hills, valleys, chateaux, gardens, rivers, every object wore its liveliest hue ! Whence did they borrow it ? From the presence of our charming companion. They were pleasing, because she seemed pleased. Alone, the scene would have been dull and insipid : the participation of it with her gave it relish. Let the gloomy monk, sequestered from the world, seek unsocial pleasures in the bottom of his cell ! Let the sublimated philosopher grasp visionary happiness, while pursuing phantoms dressed in the garb of truth ! Their supreme wisdom is supreme folly, and they mistake for happiness the mere absence of pain. Had they ever felt the solid pleasure of one generous spasm of the heart, they would exchange for it all the frigid speculations of their lives, which you have been vaunting in such elevated terms. Believe me, then, my friend, that that is a miserable arithmetic, which could estimate friendship at nothing, or at less than nothing. Respect for you has induced me to enter into this discussion, and to hear principles uttered, which I detest and abjure. Respect for myself now obliges me to recall you into the II JEFFERSON. 119 proper limits of your office. When nature assigned us tiie same habita- tion, she gave us over it a divided empire. To you she allotted the field of science, to me that of morals. When the circle is to be squared, or the orbit of a comet is to be traced, when the arch of greatest strength or the solid of least resistance is to be investigated, take up the problem ; it is yours ; nature has given me no cognizance of it. In like manner, in denying to you the feelings of sympathy, of benevolence, of gratitude, of justice, of love, of friendship, she has excluded you from their control. To these she has adapted the mechanism of the heart. Morals were too essential to the happiness of man, to be risked on the uncertain combina- tions of the head. She laid their foundation, therefore, in sentiment, not in science. That she gave to all, as necessary to all ; this to a few only, as sufficing with a few. I know, indeed, that you pretend authority to the sovereign control of our conduct in all its parts ; and a respect for your grave saws and maxims, a desire to do what is right, has sometimes induced me to conform to your counsels. A few facts, however, which I can readily recall to your memory, will suffice to prove to you, that nature has not organized you for our moral direction. When the poor wearied soldier, whom we overtook at Chickahominy, with his pack on his back, begged us to let him get up behind our chariot, you began to calculate that the road was full of soldiers, and that if all should be taken up, our horses would fail in their journey. We drove on therefore. But soon becoming sensible you had made me do wrong, that though we cannot relieve all the distressed, we should relieve as many as we can, I turned about to take up the soldier, but he had entered a by-path, and was no more to be found ; and from that moment to this, I could never find him out to ask his forgiveness. Again, when the poor woman came to ask charity in Philadelphia, you whispered that she looked like a drunkard, and that half a dollar was enough to give her for the alehouse. Those who want the dispositions to give, easily find reasons why they ought not to give. When I sought her out afterwards, and did what I should have done at first, you know that she employed the money immediately towards placing her child at school. If our country, when pressed with wrongs at the point of the bayonet, had been governed by its heads instead of its hearts, where should we have been now ? Hanging on a gallows as high as Haman's. You began to calculate, and to compare wealth and numbers ; we threw up a few pulsations of our blood ; we supplied enthusiasm against wealth and numbers ; we put our existence to the hazard, when the hazard seemed against us, and we saved our country : justifying, at the same time, the ways of Providence, whose precept is to do always what is right, and leave the issue to Him. In short, my friend, as far as my recollection serves me, I do not know that I ever did a good thing on your suggestion, or a dirty one without it. I do forever, then, disclaim your interference in my province. Fill paper as you please with triangles and squares ; try how many ways you can hang and combine them together : I shall never envy nor control your sublime delights. But leave me to decide when and where friendships are to be contracted. You say I contract them at random. So you said the woman at Philadelphia was a drunkard. I receive none into my esteem, till I know they are worthy of it. Wealth, title, office, 120 JEFFERSON. are no recommendations to my friendship. On the contrary, great good qualities are requisite to make amends for their having wealth, title, and office. You confess that, in the present case, I could not have made a worthier choice. You only object that I was so soon to lose them. We are not immortal ourselves, my friend; how can we expect our enjoyments to be so ? We have no rose without its thorn, no pleasure without its alloy. It is the law of our existence, and we must acquiesce. It is the condition annexed to all our pleasure, not by us who receive, but by Him who gives them. True, this condition is pressing cruelly on me at this moment. I feel more fit for death than life ; but when I look back on the pleasures of which it is the consequence, I am conscious they were worth the price I am paying. Notwithstanding your endeavors, too, to damp my hopes, I comfort myself with expectations of their promised return. Hope is sweeter than despair, and they were too good to mean to deceive me. ^" In the summer," said the gentleman ; but " in the spring," said the lady ; and I should love her forever, were it only for that. Know then, my friend, that I have taken these good people into my bosom ; that I have lodged them in the warmest cell I could find ; that I love them, and will contmue to love them through life ; that if fortune should dispose them on one side the globe and me on the other, my affections shall pervade its whole mass to reach them. Knowing, then, my determina- tion, attempt not to disturb it. If you can at any time furnish matter for their amusement, it will be the office of a good neighbor to do it. I will, in like manner, seize any occasion which may offer, to do the like good turn for you with Condorcet, Rittenhouse, Madison, La Cretelle, or any other of those worthy sons of science, whom you so justly prize. " I thought this a favorable proposition whereon to rest the issue of the dialo(Tue. 'So I put an end to it by calling for my nightcap. Methinks, I hea°r you wish to Heaven I had called a little sooner, and so spared you the enmii of such a sermon." In October, 17S9, Mr. Jefferson having obtained from government the permission he had long solicited, to return home for a short time, em- Ijarkedat Havre for the United States. It was not his intention, at that time, to resign his station at the Court of Versailles. France, ever a de- sirable residence to him, was at this time an object of the strongest inte- rest. The flame of revolution which had been kindled in America had already touched the shores of Europe, and the spirit of republicanism was rapidly spreading through all classes of people in France. To Mr. Jef^ ferson, to the citizen of a country, itself just emancipated, just escaped from servitude, tlie struggle which was now rapidly approaching between the people and the throne, between liberty and long established oppres- sion, was one of peculiar interest, desirous as he must have been to see the rights and principles for which he had so successfully contended in America, transplanted and flourishing in the soil of Europe. It was therefore his intention, after a short visit to his native country, to return and resume his office. Immediately, however, upon his arrival at Nor- folk, in the latter part of November, he was met by a letter from General Washington, containing an appointment to be Secretary of State. To this Mr. Jefferson replied, stating his desire to return to France, but at JEFFERSON. 121 the same time assuring the President of his willingness to remain, could his services be more beneficial to his country at home. A second letter from the President, expressing the same wish as the former, but giving him the choice of the two situations, induced him to forego his own in- clinations, and accept the appointment. During Mr. Jefferson's long absence, great changes had taken place in the United States. The country which he had left five years before, just emerging from a pro- tracted and exhausting war, without a government, and in almost as great danger from the internal dissensions, which were naturally to be expected among a people so peculiarly situated, as she had previously been, from external enemies, he now iDcheld flourishing, and happy, and rapidly increasing in wealth and population. During that interval, the Federal Constitution had been adopted, a government organized, and at its head the gratitude of a free people had placed that man, who had so successfully conducted her armies, and who, as the first President of the Western Republic, proved himself as wise in counsel, as he had before shown himself victorious in war. Mr. Jefferson immediately entered upon the duties of his station, and during his continuance in office, he ever discharged them wuth the greatest zeal and ability. We can here, of course, speak only in general terms : to enter into a detail of the whole course of his administration would be impossible, without at the same time writing the political histo- ry of the country. The duties assumed by him were of the most arduous and responsible nature, embracing the superintendance, both of domestic affairs, and of foreign relations : and they were at that time more difficult from the infancy both of the office and the government. Nevertheless, our intercourse with foreign nations, for the management of which, Mr. Jefferson was eminently qualified by his former diplomatic experience, was so conducted, that the interests and rights of the citizen were pro- tected, and the honor and dignity of the nation supported, without any infringement of the rights of others ; and in the home department, the numerous reports and state papers on subjects of the highest impor- tance, which from time to time he laid before Congress, furnish abun- dant proof of his talents and industry. At the close of the year 1/98, Mr. Jefferson, finding himself one of an administration, from a majority of whose members he differed in views, which were every day becoming of more and more importance, and that he could not consistently act with them, in the measures which would be adopted, especially in regard to our foreign relations, retired from the office of Secretary of State. Party spirit, never long asleep in any coun- try, and least of all in a republic, had already risen high in America, and the whole body of the people, from the first statesman in the cabinet, down to the merest village alehouse politician, were ranged under the banners of one or the other of the contending parties. To that one of these parties, known by the name of Democratic, Mr. Jefferson found himself strongly drawn by the whole course of his previous habits and opinions. The other members of the cabinet, however, were attached to the opposite party ; and Mr. Jefferson, therefore, thought himself call- ed upon to withdraw. 16 122 JEFFERSON. For a time, thcielorc, Mr. Jefferson retired from public lite, and de- voted himself to the cultivation of his estate, and to those literary and scientific pursuits of which he was so fond ; and at Monticello, in the bosom of his family, and undisturbed by the calls of office, he experienced, for a kw years, the domestic happiness and quiet, he was so well fitted to enjoy. He was about this time, too, chosen President of the American Philosophical Society, as successor to Rittenhouse, and, for the long period that he filled the chair, was active in promoting, in every way in his power, the prosperity of the institution. Mr. Jefferson, however, was not long permitted to remain a private citizen. In September, 1796, General Washington, the only person who could unite the affections of the whole people, in his Farewell Address to the people of the United States, declined being any longer considered a candidate for the office of Chief Magistrate. The two great parties, into which the nation was divided, therefore, immediately brought forward their candidates. Mr. Adams was nominated by the one, and Mr. Jefferson by the other ; and at the election which took place in the fall of that year, Mr. Adams was chosen President, and Mr. Jeflferson Vice-President, for the four years next ensuing. As the principal duty of the Vice-President, unless in case of the death of the President, is merely to preside in the Senate, much of these four years, except during the sessions of Congress, was spent by Mr. Jefferson in the tranquillity of Monticello. In 1801, Mr. Jeflferson, who had again been nominated as a candidate, in opposition to Mr. Adams, received a majority of the votes of the peo- ple.. But as the number of votes given for Mr. Jeflferson and for Mr. Burr, who had been nominated by the democratic party for Vice-Presi- dent, were equal, and the constitution did not require that the votes should specify the office to which each one was respectively elected, neitlier having such a majority as was necessary to a choice, the election devolved upon the House of Representatives. When the election came on, the opponents of Mr. Jeflferson threw their votes for Mr. Burr, and it was not until after tliirty-five unsuccessful ballots, that Mr. Jeifcrson was elected President, and Mr. Burr became, of course, Vice-President. On the fourth of March, 1801, Mr. Jeflferson took the oath of office, and delivered his inaugural address in presence of both houses of Con- gress. After declaring his diffidence and distrust of his own powers, in the conduct of the affairs of so vast a nation, he thus expresses the hope that all parties would unite in the support of the government and the union. " Let us then, fellow-citizens, unite with one heart and one mind ; let us restore to social intercourse that harmony and affection, without which liberty, and even life itself, are but dreary things. And let us reflect that, having banished from our land that religious intolerance under which mankind so long bled and suflfered, we have yet gained little, if we countenance a political intolerance, as despotic, as wicked, and capable of as bitter and bloody persecutions. During the throes and convulsions of the ancient world, during the agonizing spasms of infuri- ated man, seeking through blood and slaughter his long lost liberty, it was not wonderful that the agitation of the billows should reach even tliis distant and peaceful shore ; that this should be more felt and feared by JEFFERSON. 123 some, and less by others; and should divide opinions as to measures of safety ; but every difference of opinion is not a difference of principle. We have called by different names brethren of the same principle. We are all republicans; we are all federalists. If there be any among us who would wish to dissolve this union, or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated, where reason is left free to combat it. I know, indeed, that some honest men fear that a republican government cannot be strong ; that this government is not strong enough. But would the honest patriot, in the full tide of successful experiment, abandon a govern- ment which has so far kept us free and firm, on the theoretic and vision- ary fear, that this government, the world's best hope, may, by possibility, want energy to preserve itself? I trust not. I believe this, on the con- trary, the strongest government on earth. I believe it the only one, where every man, at the call of the law, would fly to the standard of the law, and would meet invasions of the public order as his own personal concern. Sometimes it is said that man cannot be trusted with the government of himself Can he then be trusted with the government of others ? Or have we found angels, in the form of kings, to govern him ? Let history answer this question." He then proceeds to give, in the following summary manner, a brief statement of the principles which were to be the rule of his administra- tion. " About to enter, fellow-citizens, on the exercise of duties which comprehend every thing dear and valuable to you, it is proper you should understand what I deem the essential principles of our government, and, consequently, those which ought to shape its administration. I will com- press them within the narrowest compass they will bear, stating the general principle, but not all its limitations. Equal and exact justice to all men, of whatever state or persuasion, religious or political ; — peace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations, entangling alliances with none ; — the support of the state governments in all their rights, as the most competent administrations for our domestic concerns, and the surest bulwarks against anti-republican tendencies : — the preservation of the general government in its whole constitutional vigor, as the sheet anchor of our peace at home, and safety abroad ; — a jealous care of the rights of election by the people, a mild and safe corrective of abuses which are lopped by the sword of revolution, where peaceable remedies are un- provided ; — absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the majority, the vital principle of republics, from which is no appeal but to force, the vital principle and immediate parent of despotism ; — a well disciplined militia, our best reliance in peace, and for the first moments of war, till regulars may relieve them ; — the supremacy of the civil over the military authority ; — economy in the public expense, that labor may be lightly burdened ; — the honest payment of our debts, and sacred preservation of the public faith ; — encouragement of agriculture, and of commerce as its handmaid ; — the diffusion of information, and arraignment of all abuses at the bar of the public reason ; — freedom of religion, freedom of the press, and freedom of person, under the protection of the habeas corpus, and trials by juries impartially selected. These principles form the bright constel- 124 JEFFERSON. lation which has gone before us, and guided our steps througli an age of revolution and reformation. The wisdom of our sages and blood of our heroes have been devoted to their attainment ; they should be the creed of our political faith, the text of civic instruction, the touchstone by which to try the services of those we trust ; — and should we Avander from them in moments of error or of alarm, let us hasten to retrace our steps, and to regain the road which alone leads to peace, liberty, and safety." The democratic party having now gained the ascendency in the national councils, the policy of the country underwent considerable changes. Of the merits of the different measures sanctioned and pur- sued by tlie respective administrations, it is not necessary here to speak ; the distinctions which then prevailed, and led to so much bitterness and hostility, are passed away, and the measures of government are now to be adjudged wise or unwise, beneficial or injurious, without reference to the party from which they emanated. The policy of Mr. Jefferson's ad- ministration, however, at that time, was so far approved, that in 1805, at the expiration of the term for which he had been chosen, he was reelect- ed to the chief magistracy by a large majority, notwithstanding all the exertions of the federal party. There can be no doubt that many of the acts of Mr. Jefferson were beneficial, and probably would be allowed to be so now, by those who, in the excitement of party, believed them to be destructive of the best interests of the country. Of this character is the purchase of Louisiana, and the annexation of all that fertile country to the United States, thereby giving us not only a vast extent of valuable territory, but what was also of the greatest importance, the undisputed navigation of the Mississippi, the great outlet of the west. Of others, as of the embargo of 1807, the expediency, to say the least, may be doubt- ful. Since the adoption of the Federal Constitution, perhaps no act of the government, at any period, has ever been more warmly supported by its friends, or more violently and unsparingly attacked by the opposition. The deep and continued aggressions of the two great belligerent powers of Europe, England and France, upon the neutral commerce of the country, after negotiation and remonstrance had been tried in vain, call- ed for more efficient measures for protection on the part of the govern- ment. These aggressions, by the injuries offered to our trade, especially with the British colonies, by the impressment of seamen and the numerous depredations on our coasts, had become so annoying, that, in December of 1805, Mr. Jefferson thus calls the attention of Congress to the subject. " Our coasts have been infested, and our harbors watched, by private armed vessels, some of them without commissions, some with illegal com- missions, others with those of legal form, but committing piratical acts beyond the autliority of their commissions. They have captured in the very entrance of our harbors, as well as on the high seas, not only the vessels of our friends coming to trade with us, but our own also. They have carried them off under pretence of legal adjudication, but, not daring to approach a court of justice, they have plundered and sunk them by the way, or in obscure places, where no evidence could arise against them, jnaltreated the crews, and abandoned them in boats in the oj»en sea, or JEFFERSON. 125 on desert shores, without food or covering. The same system of liovering on our coasts and harbors, under color of seeking enemies, has been also carried on by public armed ships, to the great annoyance and oppression of our commerce. Nevv principles, loo, have been interpolated into the law of nations, founded neither in justice nor the usage or acknowledg- ment of nations. According to these, a belligerent takes to itself a com- merce with its own enemy, which it denies to a neutral, on the ground of its aiding that enemy in the war. But reason revolts at such an incon- sistency ; and the neutral having equal rights with the belligerent to decide the question, the interests of our constituents, and the duty of maintaining the authority of reason, the only umpire between just nations, impose on us the obligation of providing an effectual and determined opposition to a doctrine so injurious to the rights of peaceable nations. In consequence of these suggestions of the Executive, the first measures taken by Congress were the preparations for the defence of our coast in case of a war, and the non-importation act, passed in the early part of 1806. Commissioners were also appointed at the several foreign courts, to make some adjustment of the existing difficulties, and prevent a repe- tition of such injuries. While these negotiations were pending, a most flagrant outrage, com- mitted by the British frigate t.eopard upon the frigate Chesapeake, in our very waters, and almost in sight of our coast, produced the proclamation of the President of Jidy second, 1807, recpiiring all British armed vessels, then within the waters of the United States, to depart, and forbidding them to enter. Scarcely, however, was this injury disavowed and offers of reparation made, when the British Orders in Council, of November of the same year, appeared. By these the British government prohibited all commerce between the United States and the ports of his enemies in Europe, unless the articles hnd been first landed in England, and the duties paid for iheir re-exportation. Under these circumstances, more decided measures were called for on the part of our government. Sub- mission was not for a moment thought of; and the only alternative was between open war, or such measures as should take us completely out of the power of our enemies and the operation of these orders. In the opinion of Mr. Jefferson, the country was not then in a situation to hazard a war ; and, therefore, the only means left to prevent the entire destruction of our commerce, was a prohibition of all iiitercour.se, which it was supposed would have the desired effect, not only by keeping our own shipping in port, out of the way of the enemy, but by depriving them of the benefit of our commerce, thereby inducing them to come to some terms. Consequently, an embargo was laid on all our vessels, prohibiting their de- parture from any port of the United States, by an act of Congress, passed December twenty-second, 1807. The consideration, whether this mea- sure was expedient, or the best one which could be adopted, belongs to the political historian. The early part of Mr. Jefferson's second administration, was disturbed by an event, which threatened the tranquillity and peace of the union ; this was the conspiracy of Aaron Burr. Defeated in the late election to the Vice-Presidency, and led on by an unprincipled ambition, this 126 JEFFERSON, extraordinary man formed the plan of a military expedition into the Spanish territories, on our southwestern frontier, for the purpose of form- ing there a new republic. This, however, as has been generally suppos- ed, was a mere pretext; and although it has never been accurately known what his real plans were, there is no doubt that they were of a far more dangerous character. The opinion generally received, is, that his object was to bring about a separation of the states west of the Allegha- nies from the general government, and form them into an independent state. The plan, however, whatever it might have been, was never ma- tured, for no sooner were the government apprized that bodies of men were organizing, and arming themselves for the avowed purpose of an attack upon a neighboring government, then at peace with us, without the authority of Congress, than measures were taken to disperse those who had assembled, to seize their arms and stores, and to arrest the ringleaders. Immediately upon the discovery of the plan. Colonel Burr fled, but was soon overtaken, and brought back to Richmond, Virginia. Here he was examined before Chief Justice Marshall, upon a charge of high misdemeanor, in preparing, within the limits of the United States, an expedition against the Spanish provinces, and also on a charge of treason, and bound over for trial on the former, there not being sufficent evidence to justify a commitment on the latter, and upon the trial for the misde- meanor, in August, 1807, he was also acquitted for a like want of evi- dence. In 1809, at the expiration of the second term for which Mr. Jefferson had been elected, he determined to retire forever from political life. For a period of nearly forty years, he had been continually before the public, and all that time had been employed in offices of the greatest trust and responsibility. Having thus devoted the best part of his life to the ser- vice of his country, he now felt desirous of that rest which his declining years required, and upon the organization of the new government, in March, 1809, he bid forever farewell to public life, and retired to Monti- cello, there to enjoy all " That which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends." From this time, Mr. Jefferson never took any part in politics ; but to one like him, even old age had its duties, and in the cultivation of his estate, in study, and in the exercise of a boundless hospitality, he found full employment for his time. But the object which most interested him during his later years, was the establishment of a system of general education in Virginia, and especially the superintendance of the new university of Virginia, which was founded in 1818, through his instru- mentality. Of this institution, which was located at Charlottesville, a town at the foot of the mountain on which the estate of Monticello was situated, Mr. Jefferson was chosen rector at the time of its foundation, and continued in that office during the remainder of his life, devotino- himself unremittingly to the interests and advancement of this child of his old age. There was one circumstance, however, which contributed in some JEFFERSON. 127 degree to disturb the happiness of the last years of his life. As the greater part of his life had been spent in the service of his country, and in public stations, to the support of which the small salary, which the more than Spartan economy of a republic allowed, was by no means equal, the estate of Mr. Jefferson, though originally large, had been con- stantly diminishing, and in 1825, he found himself obliged to apply to the Legislature of Virginia, for leave to dispose of his estate of Monticello by lottery, to prevent its being sacrificed, and in order to raise money sufficient to discharge his debts. This indeed was granted, but the days of the patriot were numbered, the time was fast approaching when his earthly wants were to cease, and the name of Jefferson must ever remain another instance of the tardy gratitude of republics. The fourth of July, 1826, being the fiftieth anniversary of the Declara- tion of American Independence, great preparations were made, in every partof the Union for its celebration, as the nation's jubilee, and the citizens of Washington, to add to the solemnity of the occasion, invited Mr. Jefferson, as the framer, and one of the few surviving signer's, of the Declaration, to participate in their festivities. But an illness" which had been of several weeks' duration, and had been continually increasing, compelled him to decline the invitation. In his reply, on the twenty- fourth of June, he gives evidence, that although his earthly frame was fast perishing, his mind was still the same ; still animated with the same ardent love of liberty, still eager for the universal emancipation of man. " It adds sensibly," he writes, " to the sufferings of sickness, to be de- prived by it of a personal participation in the rejoicings of that day; but acquiescence under circumstances, is a duty not placed among those we are permitted to control. I should, indeed, with peculiar delight, have met and exchanged there congratulations, personally, with the small' band, the remnant of the host of worthies who joined with us, on that day, in the bold and doubtful election we were to make for our country, between submission and the sword ; and to have enjoyed with them the' consola- tory fact, that our fellow-citizens, after half a century of experience and prosperity, continue to approve the choice we made. May it be to the world, what I believe it will be, (to some parts sooner, to others later, but finally to all,) the signal of arousing men to burst the chains, under which monkish ignorance and superstition had persuaded them to bind themselves, and to assume the blessings and security of self government. The form which we have substituted, restores the free right to the un- bounded exercise of reason and freedom of opinion. All eyes are opened, or opening, to the rights of man. The general spread of the lights of science has already laid open, to every view, the palpable truth, that the mass of mankind has not been born with saddles on their backs, nor a favored few, booted and spurred, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God. These are grounds of hope for others; for ourselves, let the annual return of this day forever refresh our recollections of these rights, and an undiminished devotion to them." Soon after this letter was written, the illness, which before had not been considered at all dangerous, increased rapidly, and on the twenty- sixth, he was obliged to confine himself to his bed. On the second of 128 JEFFERSON. July, the disease, under which he was laboring, left him, but in such a reduced state, that his medical attendants entertained no hope of his recovery. From this time he himself was perfectly sensible, that his last hour was at hand, and with the utmost calmness he conversed A\ith the different members of his family, and gave directions concerning his coffin, and his funeral, which he was desirous should be at Monticello, and without any display or parade. On the ne.vtday, which was Monday, he a.sked of those around him, the day of the month, and on being told it was the third of July, he expressed the earnest wish that he might be permitted to breathe the air of the fiftieth anniversary. His prayer was heard — that day, whose dawn was hailed with such rapture through our land, burst upon his eyes, and then they were closed forever. And what a noble consummation of a noble life! To die on that day, — the birthday of a nation, — the day which his own name and his own act had rendered glorious ; to die amidst the rejoicings and festivities of a whole nation, who looked up to him, as the author, under God, of their greatest bles- sings, was all that was wanting to fill up the record of his life. Fifty summers had rolled over his head, since the day when the Congress of '76 declared America independent ; fifty years he had watched over her like a parent over his child ; and he had been permitted to see that country, whose cause in her hour of darkne.ss he had so nobly maintain- ed, prosperous and happy. lie had prayed that he might see that day ; and on that day, amidst the acclamations of twelve millions of freemen, in the hour within which, fifty years before, he had signed the Magna Charta of American Freedom, his spirit was freed from the bondage of earth. Happy in his life, more happy in his death, of him it may truly be said, that " Notliing in his life, Became him like the leaving it." And almost at the same hour, the kindred spirit of the venerable Adams, as if to bear him company, left the scene of his earthly honors. Hand in hand they had stood forth, the champions of freedom ; hand in hand, during the dark and desperate struggle of the revolution, they had cheered and animated their desponding countrymen ; for half a century they had labored together for the good of their country ; and now hand in hand they departed. In their lives they had been united in the same great cause of liberty, and in their deaths they were not divided. At the time of his death, Mr. Jefferson had attained the age of eighty- three year.s and a few months. In January, 1772, he was married to Martha, widow of Bathurst Skelton, and daughter of John Wayles, a lawyer of considerable eminence in the tlien colony of Virginia. Their union, however, was of short duration ; she died in September, 1782, leaving three daughters, one of whom died young, the other two were married, one to Tliomas M. Randolph, afterwards Governor of Virginia, the other to Mr. Eppes. in person Mr. Jefferson was tall and thin, rather above six feet in height, but well formed ; his eyes were light, his hair, originally red, in after life becaine white and silvery ; his complexion was fair, his forehead broad, and his whole countenance intelligent and thoughtful. He pos- JEFFERSON. 129 scsscd grreat fortitude of mind a? well as personal oouraiio : and his com- mand of temper was such, that his oklcst and most intimate friends never recollected to have seen him in a passion. His manners, though dignified, were simple and unaffected, and his hospitality was so unbounded, that all found at his house a ready welcome. In conversation he w as fluent, eloquent, and enthusiastic ; and his language was remarkably pure and correct. He was a finished classical scholar, and in his writings is discernible the care with which he formed his style upon the best models of antiquity. His style is pleasing and attractive, seeking rather to per- suade by the beauty and refinement of manner, than to convince by the mere force of argument. Of Mr. Jefferson's Notes on Virginia, we have already spoken ; another work published by him, while he was Vice-Presi- dent, and, consequently, presiding officer of the Senate, was a Manual of Parliamentary Practice, which has since been a standard work on that subject, and probably contains the best collection of rules for forensic debate in existence. Bui lor Mr. Jelferson's most numerous and most important productions, we must go to the archives of the government, and there in the state papers, and reports made by liim, we shall find the evidence of his talents, industry, and learning. His correspondence was very extensive, embracing not only the great men of his own country, but also the most distinguished philosophers and statesmen of France. Since his death, four volumes of his writings, edited by his grandson, Thomas JefTerson Randolph, have been published, containing a short mcinoir of his life, to the time of his appointment to be Secretary of State, written by himself, in IS'^l, and also a large collection of his letters, to various persons, and on various subjects. It is neither our intention or wish, to speak of the religious opinions of Mr. Jefferson. Discarding as we do, all political prejudices, we have heretofore been enabled to speak of him in terms of approbation, and that too, as we trust, without any sacrifice of truth. This could not be the case, however, should we now enter upon the consideration of his religious sentiments. As a mere moralist, he must ever be esteemed for opinions and doctrines, which would have done honor to the purest sages of Greece and Rome, and which certainly far surpassed the theories and the practice of his masters in religion, the sceptics of the French school. But little now remains to be said of Mr. Jefferson; his whole life was passed before the public eye, and his actions speak his character better than any words can express them. Whatever may be the judgment of posterity, in regard to Air. Jefierson's administration, it is as the bold and fearless patriot of the revolution, — as the framer of the Declaration of American Independence, that he will be best known. Posterity may be divided, as the present age has been, concerning the wisdom and the expediency of his measures, while he occupied the chair of the Chief Magistrate, for those measures were of such doubtful tendency, that the best and wisest misiht differ concerninir them ; but as one of the Conorress of '70, as one of the firmest opposers of British aggressions, as one of the most able statesmen of the revolution, his conduct has been stamped by the approbation of a whole nation, aiid a judgment rendered, that no future age will ever reverse. The latter part of Mr. JctTorson's life also 17 l;30 JEFFERSON. presents a most pleasing picture. It is delightful to see a man of such vast acquisitions, and sucli varied powers, after a life spent in the service of his country, and in the fulfdinent of the highest duties, calmly retire from public stations, to spend his declining years, not in inactivity and lethargy, but in untiring exertions for the advancement of the human race; and instead of sinking into a second cliildliood, by constant exercise maintaining all the faculties of his mind unimpaired to the last. We hardly know which is the more interesting object — Thomas Jefferson, as the young and ardent patriot of '76, or as the silver haired philosopher of Monticello. Or if the former is the more interesting, surely the latter is the more pleasing. Wlien we look upon the former, while we admire his noble spirit, and his holy daring, we yet tremble for his safety, as we think of the rocks and quicksands by which he is sur- rounded, and of which the least may make shipwreck of him forever. But when we contemplate the latter, in all the serenity of an honored old age, resting from his labors, and seeking in the cultivation of philosophy the highest pleasures of the intellect, and the means still to benefit man- kind — we feel an emotion of thankfulness rising in our hearts, at the thought that all those dangers we so much dreaded have been passed ; that the course so prosperously commenced, has been gloriously pursued, and the lonij wished for haven at last obtained. The admiration we involuntarily feel for the former, is more than equalled by the veneration we willingly offer to the latter. JAMES MADISON. Materials for the biography of a public man are to be found, for the most part, in the history of the great events in which he was an actor. In our own country this is particularly the case. It is, perhaps, hardly to be regretted that the private life of our distinguished men is in some mea- sure sacred from the offensive notoriety which is the lot and the penalty of eminence in other countries. The numerous dependants on the peri- odical press of Great Britain deem themselves privileged to annoy men of any reputation, by what they term sketches of their lives. They pick up garbled and inaccurate stories, invent one or two leading incidents, and, to complete the biography, fasten upon its unfortunate subject a few of the most popular anecdotes that have been current for the last century. These accounts circulate for the truth, and a man is obliged to see himself the hero of battles which he never fought, and an actor upon boards which he never trod. But there is some satisfaction in reading even an incorrect, but well written account of a great man's life, for the same reason that there is pleasure in looking on an indifferent likeness, which is well painted and handsomely framed. Taste is pleased, if curiosity is not satisfied. A void is filled ; we have learned something, and if that something is not accurate, we still have high authority for believing that all history is little better than fable. Of the early life of Mr. Madison we have been able to collect no au- thentic anecdotes. His later years were passed in the most entire seclusion, as he lived in the strictest privacy at his seat in Montpelier, Virginia. He was born in the year 1750, and took an early and efficient interest in the affairs of our infant republic. Sound principles on subjects of public and pohtical interest seem to have been instilled into hirn from his birth. To state what little we know of his private life, before commencing the narra- tion of that part of his career which is the property of his country, Mr. Madison, in 1794, was married to Mrs. Todd, in Philadelphia, widow of John Todd, Esq. a practitioner of the Pennsylvania bar. Her maiden name was Paine, and her father, who was of the Society of Friends, emigrated from Virginia to Philadelphia. She was eighteen years of age at the time of her first marriage, and as her husband died in less than three years afterward.^, she was still quite young when she became the wife of ^Ir. Madison. Her manners were agreeable, her deportment mild and dignified, and her conversation fascinating. With the wish to please, and a willingness to be pleased, she was popular in her circle of associates ; and when her second husband was called to his high office, she discharged, with a dignified affability, those polite attentions which were so constantly required of her. She exerted a woman's tender influ- 132 MADISON. enceto soften the political asperities of the time by the amenities of social life ; and strove to hide the thorns of public controversy under the roses of private cheerfulness. It has been said, to her great praise, that in her highest fortune she never neglected her early friends, but extended to all who approached her, those attentions which please the exalted and inspire the humble with confidence. The first knowledge that we have of Mr. Madison finds him, at an early age, a very active member of the Continental Congress. To him, more than to any one living, the people of the United States are indebted for the constitution under which they live. He was a leader in the con- vention that framed the Federal Constitution, and the most influential of its supporters in the Virginia Convention which adopted it. He wrote the greatest part of the Federalist; was the author of the Virginia Resolu- tions of 179S, and the Virginia Report of 1799, and for sixteen years was charged with the administration of the government, as the incumbent suc- cessively of the second and first offices in the Executive. The first subject that pressed upon the attention of Congress, at the close of the revolution, was the debt incurred during the war, and which it was imperative upon them either to fund or pay. The national com- merce had been annihilated. To revive it was the first step towards reviving prosperity. But as a preliminary to any commercial arrange- ments or treaties with foreign powers, a settlement of their own debt was indispensable. In this first step, however, Congress in)mediately felt its utter inefficiency, its incapabdity of even moving with its actual powers. To the impost laid on during the war, divers states had refjsed acquies- cence. How was that or any tax to be now enforced? Nevertheless a committee was appointed. It drew up a report, which was soon issued, as an address to the several states, praying them to make provision for the national creditors. The address was received with the same spirit which had endangered the commonwealth so lately, by holding out against the claims of the veterans of the war ; and as Congress had resolved not to raise money from one state till all had consented to the measure, each waited for its neighbor to commence, and each excused itself by its neighbor's backwardness. At the same time Congress felt its want of authority marring the national interests upon another point. Envoys had been despatched to Europe for the purpose of concluding commercial treaties. England, the first applied to, held off, declaring that Congress had not power to conclude one. In vain did Mr. Jefferson argue that the American government had in reality suffi- cient authority. If it had, it was certainly not very clear ; and the Bri- tish ministry, well pleased at an opportunity to disappoint the United States envoys, and to flout the inexperience of their government, held firm in its denial. The states were in the mean time dispensed from coming to a determi- nation respecting raising a general fund, as the envoys of Congress had found it necessary to meet pressing demands by a loan. Individuals still smarting from the losses of a war were very willing to throw forward, as it were, the burden of taxes to a future and more prosperous time They were disappointed in these selfish calculations. Prosperity carae MADISON. 133 not, nor promised to come. Commerce was not restored. England still kept up her prohibitions or high duties upon all the great exports of America; nor could France consent to receive them, notwithstanding her own inclination, and all the efforts of Jefferson. To England, and to some relaxation in that country's rigid prohibition, they were obliged to look ; and this alone produced the consolidation of the Federal Govern- ment. England had changed her policy. She had laid aside the sword ; but she still carried on, what, to America, was as destructive, — a commercial war. She monopolized the fisheries, shut out the American ships from her West Indies, and essayed to take to herself the whole carrying trade of her late colonies. Jefferson and Adams labored in Europe to open markets for their countrymen. They concluded treaties with Portugal, with Sweden, with divers European powers. But shut out from the Medi- terranean by the Barbary corsairs; from France, notwithstanding the amity of the countries, by the monopoly of tobacco and other causes ; the only alternative left to America was to force England to be equitable. This, however, could not be done by the state legislatures; for if one ad- mitted British ships, whilst the other excluded them, the union of the com- monwealth was not only destroyed, but the object of exclusion defeated. Congress, in 1784, therefore, demanded powers to exclude generally the vessels of all countries not having treaties of commerce with America. Most of the states acceded to this request ; but delays and difficulties intervened; some could not be brought to understand it. Ere it was ac- cepted, the necessity of powers more extended and minute were felt, so that Congress made a fresh demand of being permitted to regulate the entire commerce of the republic. To these commercial difficulties were added political causes of quarrel between England and America. Notwithstanding the express stipidation of the treaty, the British creditors remained still unpaid; and the ministry refused, in consequence, to evacuate the military posts within the north- western frontier of the United States. The fault lay with divers states of the Union, who resisted carrying into effect the honest stipulation of Con- gress. The progress of the United States was thus effectually arrested. It was in vain that Congress or its leading members discussed or passed votes for forming treaties, raising funds, or regulating commerce. It was vain to devise remedies without the power of applying them. Every American of eminence and experience saw the necessity of giving more authority to Congress, of forming a federal head, and giving, in fact, an efficient go- vernment to the country. The foremost in their opinions were the Virginians. Seeing the weak- ness of Congress, this state had early united with Maryland in a prohibi- tory system. Proving the good effect of this, they had besought the other states to send commissioners to agree upon making it general. This proposition, made by Mr. Madison, produced what was called a conven- tion, or a meeting of delegates from five states, at Annapolis, in Septem- ber, 17S6. The assembly soon perceived that unity upon commercial regulations must depend upon the political and fundamental unity of the 134 MADISON. state, and that the only possibility of agreeing as to a common tariff, was to frame an efficient constitution. For this important task the delegates at Annapolis were not prepared. They declared, however, the necessity of taking such a measure into consideration, and, ere they separated, agreed as to the expediency of calling a more general and solemn meet- ing of delegates from all the states, to meet in the following year at Philadelphia. At this period broke forth that political schism, that separation of the Americans into two parties, which had been brooding and preparing since the peace. The war had been a struggle between whig and tory ; the supporters of independence on one side, the favorers of monarchy and British connexion on the other. By the destruction of the latter, the independents were left alone to split into new parties, as the nature of every political society requires. Those which were formed on the present occasion, have ever since endured, and the flags which each then hoisted long continued to float with their ancient principles inscribed. But the jealousy of certain states in the preservation of their own local rights and interests was likely to operate fatally in marring the project of a constitution, and rendering any innovation for the purpose impracticable ; since the dissentient states were resolved not to choose delegates, or accede to the desire of Virginia. At length, however, the majority of the state legislatures was brought to coincide with the views of the federal statesmen. Convinced by late experience of the necessity of an established and general government, even for purposes of domestic security, the hitherto refractory states nam- ed, without hesitation, their delegates to the appointed convention for formintr a constitution.* Accordingly, in the month of May, 1787, the delegates of twelve states met at Philadelphia. Washington, who had reluctantly consented to attend, was chosen president. The discussion and arrangement of the several articles were carried on with closed doors, and lasted four months. And at length, on the 17th of September, the proposed consti- tution was made public. It was presented to Congress, and by that body was submitted to the several states for acceptance.! The following interesting summary of Mr. Madison's opinions on the subject of confederation is from a paper in the hand-writing of Gene- ral Washington, and presents the substance of a letter received by him a * The state of Ehode Island alone refused. f A history of this convention has never been written. The causes which led to it may be easily ascertained and traced out, but the opinions and private movements of the great political leaders of the day, the precise share of merit due to each for the part he acted in enlightening the public mind, and preparing it for the issue of events, the previous interchange of thoughts and sentiments, the exposition of mo- tives, the ultimate hopes, and above all, the proceedings of the convention itself, the views, arguments, and designs of individuals, and the general voice of their con- stituents, as expressed by them ; all these topics and numerous others are yet in the dark, and must remain so, till the papers left by the departed actors in the scene, and such as are still held by the few venerable worthies that remain of that dignified assembly, shall come under the eye of the faithful historian, and receive a patient inspection and a discriminating award. — N- A. Eeview. MADISON. 135 short time previous to the holding of the Convention at Philadelphia. For this valuable document we are indebted to the twenty-fifth volume of the North American Review. " Mr. Madison thinks an individual independence of the states utterly ir- reconcilable with their aggregate sovereignty, and that a consolidauon of the whole into one simple republic would be as inexpedient as it is unat- tainable, lie therefore proposes a middle ground, which may at once support a due supremacy of the national authority, and not exclude the lo- cal authorities whenever they can be subordinately useful. " As the groundwork, he proposes that a change be made in the prin- ciple of representation, and thinks there would be no great difficulty in effecting it. " Next, that, in addition to the present federal powers, the national go- vernment should be armed with positive and complete authority in all cases which require uniformity; such as the regulation of trade, including the right of taxing both exports and imports, the fixing the terms and forms of naturalization, &c. " Over and above this positive power, a negative in all cases whatever on the legislative acts of the states, as heretofore exercised by the kingly prerogative, appears to him absolutely necessary, and to be the least pos- sible encroachment on the state jurisdictions. Without this defensive power he conceives that every positive [law ?] which can be given on paper, will be evaded. " This control over the laws would prevent the internal vicissitudes of state policy, and the aggressions of interested majorities. " The national supremacy ought also to be extended, he thinks, to the judiciary departments ; the oaths of the judges should at least include a fidelity to the general as well as local constitution ; and that an appeal should be to some national tribunals in all cases, to which foreigners or in- habitants of other states may be parties. The admiralty jurisdictions to fall entirely within the purview of the national government. " The national supremacy in the executive departments is liable to some difficulty, unless the officers administering them could be made ap- pointable by the supreme government. The militia ought entirely to be placed in some form or other under the authority which is interested with the general protection and defence. " A government composed of such extensive powers should be well or- ganized and balanced. " The legislative department might be divided into two branches, one of them chosen every years by the people at large, or by the legisla- tures ; the other to consist of fewer members, to hold their places for a longer term, and to go out in such rotation as always to leave in office a large majority of old members. " Perhaps the negative on the laws might be most conveniently exer- cised by this branch. " As a further check, a council of revision, including the great ministe- rial officers, might be superadded. " A national executive must also be provided. He has scarcely ventured as yet to form his own opinion, either of the manner of which it ought to be constituted, or of the authorities with which it ought to be clothed. 136 MADISON. " An article should be inserted, expressly guarantying the tranquillity of the states against internal as well as external dangers. " In like manner, the right of coercion should be expressly declared. With the resources of commerce in hand, the national administration might always find means of exerting it either by sea or land ; but the dif- ficulty and awkwardness of operating by force on the collective will of a state, render it particularly desirable that the necessity of it might be precluded. Perhaps the negative on the laws might create such a mutual dependence between the general and particular authorities as to answer ; or perhaps some defined objects of taxation might be submitted along with commerce to the general authority. " To give a new system its proper validity and energy, a ratification must be obtained from the people, and not merely from the ordinary au- thority of the legislature. This will be the more essential, as inroads on the existing constitutions of the states will be unavoidable." Although the party, designated as democratic, had given up a con- siderable portion of its hostility to a united government, still it was far from wanting representatives in the convention. We are informed, in- deed, that, in the most important questions, votes were so nicely balanced, that it was impossible to foretell any decision. During the discussions the leading men opposed to the democrats published their opinions in a series of letters, signed the Federalist, a name which henceforward seemed to designate the party. Mr. Madison and Mr. Jay were writers ; but the principal one, as well as the most esteemed in his opinions, was Colonel or General Hamilton. This gentleman went the length of propos- ing that the president and each senator should hold his office, as our judges do, during their good behavior. The anti-federalists, on the other hand, of whom the future leader, Jefferson, was, however, as yet in France, supported the principle of rotation, or frequent change in the person wielding the executive of the country. The federalists' side was most powerful in talent, and being supported by the authority of Wash- ington, their opinions mainly prevailed. The constitution no sooner appeared, than it was attacked with a host of objections. One party exclaimed that it had melted the states into one government, without fencing the people by any declarations of rights ; that a standing army was not renounced, and the liberty of the press not secured ; that Congress reserved to itself the power of suspending trial by jury in civil cases ; that rotation in office was abandoned ; that the president might be re-elected from four years to four years, so as to ren- der him a king for life, like a king of Poland ; and that the check or aid of a council had not been given him. Notwithstanding these objections, the constitution obtained the assent of all the states, save two — Rhode Island and North Carolina. New- York was said to have acceded, chiefly, from fear of being excluded from the union ; and, in consenting, she had demanded a new convention to make amendments in the act. Even Vir- ginia thought it necessary to propose alterations. She required a decla- ration of rights, and the limitation that the President should be but once re-elected. These discussions occupied the year 1788, after which the constitution was generally accepted, and the grand point of a federal union achieved. MADISON. 137 The month of March, 1789, was the epoch appointed for the com- mencement of the new government. So wanting, however, were many of the states, or their representatives, in zeal, that three weeks elapsed ere a full meeting of both Houses could be procured. Their first neces- sary step was to elect a President ; and George Washington was unani- mously chosen to the office. With unfeigned reluctance, occasioned both by love of retirement and tenderness for his reputation, did that great man accept the first office of the commonwealth. The sacrifice was de- manded of him, as, in the words of Hamilton, the success of the great experiment, viz. the working and existence of the new government, alto- gether depended upon the moral force which the name and character of AVashington would bring to its chief office. Washington's progress from his seat of Mount Vernon to Philadelphia was a triumphant procession, such as few conquerors have known. The ceremony of his inauguration took place on the 30th of April, and the new President addressed Congress in a noble and touching discourse. He could not have evinced a stronger conviction of the importance of his own duties, as well as of those whom he addressed, than is conveyed in the following words : — " The preservation of the sacred fire of liberty, and the destiny of the republican form of government, are justly consi- dered as deeply, perhaps as finally, staked on the experiment intrusted to the hands of the American people." No sooner was the federal government thus completed by the inaugu- ration of its chief, than Congress proceeded at once to the considera- tion of what most pressed upon its attention — the revenue. But as every thing had hitherto remained unsettled, the discussion on this point involv- ed the question of foreign policy and preference ; and, leading to a warm debate, occasioned a collision between parties at the very outset of their legislative career. Mr. Madison proposed a tax upon imported goods and tonnage. This, in principle, was objected to by none ; but as the tonnage duty, pressing upon foreign vessels exclusively, was intended to act in favor of domestic, and at the expense of foreign shipping, it excited opposition. Some urged that America had few ships of her own, and needed the use of those which this duty might drive away. But Madison pointed out, in answer, the necessity of fostering the infant navy of the country, as the only defensive force that would be required or available in a future war. This argument overcame the objections. But another part of Mr. Madison's plan, — that which favored the commerce of France rather than that of Great Britain, — called forth greater heat and opposition. France had contributed largely by her aid and alliance to the cause of American independence, from selfish reasons, no doubt, rather than from any love either for America or freedom ; but this latter country was not called upon to scrutinize her motives. In addition to the claims of gratitude on this account, the envoys of the United States had been received as foes in Great Britain, as friends in France. The correspondence of Franklin and Jefferson, more especially the latter, exists, to attest how the sullen pride of merely English manner might have the eftect of exciting ran- cor in a statesman, and by consequence in his countrv. 18 138 MADISON. A provision being jnadc for raising a revenue and answering the just debts of the states, Congress proceeded to the completion of the machine of government by the institution of ministerial offices, according to the usage of the monarchies of Europe. Departments were erected, of the treasury, of war, and of state, — the latter including foreign and domestic relations. This last important office attracted particular attention. The bill for establishing it intrusted the President with the power of removing the ininister from office. It was moved, by way of amendment, that the President should not have the power of dismissing the minister without the assent of Congress. This assent or co-operation, it was argued, hav- ing been considered requisite to the appointment, why should it not be indispensable, to the act of dismissal 1 The government party op- posed strenuously this attempt to nullify the presidential office, which, indeed, if shorn of this authority, would have been reduced to a level with that of its secretary. Nay, they were not content with voting this power at present, but contended that the rule should have been a funda- mental part of the constitution. It was now declared to be so by a vote, the derogatory amendment having been previously negatived ; and the wholesome prerogative of the President was effectually secured. The several ministerial departments were now filled up. Colonel Ham- ilton, the friend of Washington, and he who had chiefly induced him to accept the guidance of the new government, was appointed to the treasury. General Knox, who had been the war minister under Congress, was now re-appointed ; whilst Jeffi^rson, envoy in France, but then on his return to the United States, was named secretary of the state department, including foreign and home affairs. At the head of the law was placed Mr. Jay, as chief justice, one of the most estimable characters of the time. Mr. Randolph was named attorney-general. Mr. Adams had been elected Vice-President : the only name of eminence omitted in the arrangements was that of Madison. A particular view of the successive administrations is given in the life of eacli of tlie Presidents. With a short account, therefore, of Mr. Madi- son's celebrated commercial resolutions offered to Congress in January, 1794, we shall pass to the period and to the most striking affairs of his presidency. When Congress assembled in the month of December, 1793, a variety of important and interesting topics were pressing upon the public atten- tion. Tlie British government had declared France to be in a state of blockade, by issuing orders to stop all neutral ships laden with provisions bound to her ports. Corn at that time formed the chief export of the United States, and to proliibit them from shipping it at all, for the new regulation amounted in fact to this, was a grievance to which the most pacific neutral could scarcely submit. Another continually recurring source of complaint on the part of the United States against England was the pressing of their seamen, which circumstances rendered of frequent occurrence and tardy rectification. In reference to this state of affairs, Mr. Madison early in January, 1791, submitted to the House his commercial resolutions. The substance of the first of these resolutions was, that the interest of the United States would MADISON. 139 be promoted by further restrictions and liigher duties in certain cases, on the manufactures and navigation of foreign nations. Tlie additional du- ties were to be Kaid on certain articles manufactured by those European nations which had no commercial treaties with the United States. These resolutions required reciprocity in navigation, except witli respect to the West India trade. The last of the resolutions declared that provision ought to be made, for ascertaining the losses sustained by American citi- zens, from the operation of particular regulations of any country contra- vening the law of nations ; and that these losses be reimbursed, in the first instance, out of the additional duties on the manufactures and vessels of nations establishing such reculations. The debates on these resolu- tions were long and animated. On the 3d of February the first was adopted by a majority of five only.* On the 4th of March, 1809, Mr. Madison, who had been Secretary of State under the preceding administration, was inducted into the office of President of the United States. At this time the situation of our affiiirs was in many respects gloomy. France and England were still at war, and were continuing to array against each other the most violent commercial edicts, that exhibited but little deference to the rights and interests of neutral nations. Previously to the adjournment of tlie Inst Congress under Mr. Jefferson, an act had been passed which repealed the then existing em- bargo, and interdicted commercial intercourse with France and Great Britain. Should either of these powers, however, revoke their edicts, the President was authorized to renew their intercourse. Mr. Madison's in- augural address was as follows : " Unwilling to depart from examples of the most revered authority, I avail myself of the occasion now presented, to express the profound im- pression made on me, by the call of my country to the station, to the duties of which I am about to pledge myself, by the most solemn of sanc- tions. So distinguished a mark of confidence, proceeding from the deliberate and tranquil suffrage of a free and virtuous nation, would, under any circumstances, have commanded my gratitude and devotion, as well as filled me with an awful sense of the trust to be assumed. Under the various circumstances which give peculiar solemnity to the existing period, I feel that both the honor and the responsibility allotted tome, are inexpressibly enhanced. The present situation of the world is indeed without a parallel ; and that of our country full of difficulties. The pressure of these, too, is more severely felt, because they have fallen upon us at a moment when the national prosperity being at a height not before attained, the contrast resulting from the change has been rendered the more striking. Under the benign influence of our republican insti- tutions, and the maintenance of peace with all nations, while so many of them were engaged in bloody and wasteful wars, the fruits of a just poli- cy were enjoyed, in an unrivalled growth of our faculties and resources. Proofs of this were seen in the improvements of agriculture, in the suc- cessful enterprises of commerce, in the progress of manufactures and * Pitkin. 140 MADISON. useful arts ; in the increase of the public revenue, and the use made of it in reducing the public debt, and in the valuable works and establish- ments, every where multiplying over the face of our land. It is a pre- cious reflection that the transition from this prosperous condition of our country to the scene which has for some time been distressing us, is not chargeable on any unwarrantable views, nor, as I trust, on any involun- tary errors in the public councils. Indulging no passions which trespass on the rights or the repose of other nations, it has been the true glory of the United States to cultivate peace by observing justice ; and to entitle themselves to the respect of the nations at war, by fulfilling their neutral obligations with the most scrupulous impartiality. If there be candor in the world, the truth of these assertions will not be questioned. Posterity at least will do justice to them. This unexceptionable course could not avail against the injustice and violence of the belligerent powers. In their rage against each other, or impelled by more direct motives, principles of retaliation have been introduced, equally contrary to universal reason and acknowledged law. How long their arbitrary edicts will be continu- ed, in spite of the demonstrations that not even a pretext for them has been given by the United States, and of the fair and liberal attempts to induce a revocation of them, cannot be anticipated. Assuring myself that, under every vicissitude, the determined spirit and united councils of the nation will be safeguards to its honor and its essential interests, I repair to the post assigned me, with no other discouragements than what spring from my own inadequacy to its high duties. If I do not sink un- der the weight of this deep conviction, it is because I find support in a consciousness of the purposes and a confidence in the principles which I bring with me into this arduous service. To cherish peace and friendly intercourse with all nations having correspondent dispositions; to maintain sincere neutrality towards belligerent nations; to prefer, in all cases, amicable discussion and reasonable accommodation of differen- ces to a decision of them by an appeal to arms ; to exclude foreign intrigues and foreign partialities, so degrading to all countries, and so baneful to free ones ; to foster a spirit of independence, too just to invade the rights of others, too proud to surrender our own, too liberal to indulge unworthy prejudices ourselves, and too elevated not to look down upon them in others ; to hold the union of the states as the basis of their peace and happiness ; to support the constitution, which is the cement of the union, as well in its limitations as in its authorities ; to respect the rights and authorities reserved to the states and to the people, as equally incorporated with, and essential to the success of, the general system ; to avoid the slightest interference with the rights of conscience, or the func- tions of religion, so wisely exempted from civil jurisdiction ; to preserve in their full energy the other salutary provisions in behalf of private and ])ersonal rights, and of the freedom of the press ; to observe economy in public expenditures ; to liberate the public resources by an honorable dis- charge of public debts ; to keep within the requisite limits a standing military force, always remembering that an armed and trained militia force is the firmest bulwark of republics ; that without standing armies their liberty can never be in danger, nor, with large ones, safe; to promote by MADISON. 141 authorized means improvements friendly to agriculture, to manufactures, and to external as well as internal commerce ; to favor in like manner the advancement of science and the diffusion of information, as the best aliment to true liberty ; to carry on benevolent plans, which have been so meritoriously applied to the conversion of our aboriginal neighbors from the degradation and wretchedness of savage life, to a participation of the improvements of which the human mind and manners are susceptible in a civilized state. As far as sentiments and intentions such as these can aid the fulfilment of my duty, they will be a resource which cannot fail me. It is my good fortune, moreover, to have the path in which I am to tread, lighted by examples of illustrious services successfully rendered, in the most trying dilhculties by those who have marched before me. Of those of my immediate predecessor, it might least become me here to speak. I may, however, be pardoned for not suppressing the sympathy with which my heart is full, in the rich reward he enjoys in the benedictions of a beloved country, gratefully bestowed for exalted talents zealously de- voted, through a long career, to the advancement of its highest interest and haj)piness. But the source to which I look for the aid which alone can supply my deficiencies, is in the well tried intelligence and virtue of my fellow citizens, and in the councils of those representing them in the other departments associated in the care of the national interest. In these, my confidence will, under every difficulty, be best placed ; next to that which we have all been encouraged to feel in the guardianship and guidance of that Almighty Being, whose power regulates the destiny of nations, whose blessings have been so conspicuously dispensed to this rising republic, and to whom we are bound to address our devout gratitude for the past, as well as our fervent supplications and best hopes for the future." A new administration generally commences with fair promises on one side, and hopes on the other, of a change. It is a period of congratula- tion and politeness. Mr. Madison was declared to want the inveterate republicanism and anti-British feeling of his predecessor. He had been the first to propose the federal union, and his political career since had not been marked as that of a partizan. These considerations raised the hopes of the English minister in America, that some arrangement might be made. The repeal of the embargo, and the substitution of a less ob- noxious act, offered a fit and fav,orable pretext for renewing negotiations ; more especially as a clause was inserted in the later act, to the purpose, that if either of the belilgerents should recall its hostile edicts, a procla- mation of the executive should suffice to suspend the non-intercourse with respect to that belligerent. Mr. Erskine, accordingly, received from Mr. Canning, the English secretary of state, powers to treat, together with instructions as to the points to be insisted on. He was to consent to withdraw the orders in council on the essential points, on certain preliminary conditions, such as the prohibition against English ships appearing in American waters being repealed, and the abandonment of the right claimed by the United States to trade with such of the enemy's colonies as she was not permitted to trade with in peace. Overlooking these altogether, Mr. Erskine consi- 142 MADISON. dered the supension of the non-intercourse as a fair equivalent for that of the orders in council, and did not hesitate to stipulate, accordingly, that these should cease to be in force at a certain epoch. The President, accordingly, suspended the non-intercourse. But tidings no sooner reached England of the obsequious haste of Mr. Erskine, than he was disavowed. The orders in council were suspended only so far as not to endanger those vessels which had sailed from America on the faith of Mr. Erskine's declaration. The President, in consequence, declared the non-intercourse act as still in force, and the silent war of prohibitory edicts continued on its old footing. These blunders in diplomacy were singularly unfortunate, since they had the effect of irritating and giving rise to hateful suspicions. The Americans believed that Mr. Erskine had acted in consequence of his instructions, and tliat the disavowal was an act of capricious hostility on the part of the British minister. The parliamentary opposition in En- gland took the same view ; and a partial production of the correspon- dence accredited the belief, which afterwards, however, was proved to be erroneous. But the effect was tantamount. Erskine was recalled, and Mr. Jackson sent in his place. The latter was as ill-chosen as the former ; since there was some cause which rendered him particularly ob- noxious to the Americans. He was received with studied coldness, and made to wait even for his recognition for a long time. His endeavors to renew the broken negotiation were met by the remark of the inutility of such an attempt, and by an allusion to the duplicity of the British govern- ment in the affair of Erskine. Jackson retorted with warmth. His ob- servations were considered as insults; and, on this plea, further commu- nication with him was declined, and his recall demanded of the minister in London. France having been again applied to by America at this time, the em- peror replied, that his decrees were but retaliation; and that if England recalled her blockade and her orders in council, he would suffer his de- crees to be considered null. Mr. Madison took advantage of this appa- rent fairness on the part of the French ruler, and obtained from the ma- jority of Congress divers resolutions, approving of the high and defiant tone of policy observed by him towards England. The state of Massa- chusetts alone protested. Preparations for war continued with activity; and the people already began to turn their attention and capital to the domestic production of those manufiictures with which Great Britain had been in the habit of more cheaply supplying them. England, at the same time, began to seek elsewhere those commodities whicli the United States had furnished : she sought them in Canada chiefly. The alienations and mutual injury thus worked by commercial prohibitions were, perhaps, greater tlmn could have come of actual war. The conduct of Mr. Madison and the American government to the British envoy showed such signs of a leaning towards France, and, in- deed, such an imitation of Napoleon's own behavior on similar occasions, that the emperor became more obsequious. The non-intercourse act expir- ing in 1810, the Americans again summoned the two powers to remove their restrictions. This was asked with the manifest purpose of declaring MADISON. 143 war ; the latter being tlie only alternative, if the restrictions were not removed ; since the Americans could not consent to abandon the sea altogether. To this Bonaparte replied by an amicable advance, intimat- ing, through his minister, that his decrees should be suspended. It was understood by him, of course, that America should no longer submit to the orders in council if unrepealed. To the English ministry an appeal was now made to follow the example of France. Unfortunately they hesitated, chicaned as to the supposed insincerity of the French declara- tion, or the informality of its announcement ; and feeling that the demand was accompanied by menace, they held out more from pique than policy. No conduct could have been more ill-judged ; it served all the purpo- ses of the anti-British in America, and flung the United States completely into the arms of France, whose vessels were now admitted to the ports of the former, whilst the interdict against the English was renewed. The British minister seems to have inferred that the French emperor could not be sincere in his declarations to consider his decrees no longer in force ; since such would have broken through that continental system, which was known to be his most fixed principle. In vain did the Ameri- can envoy offer proof of his assertion in this respect. Reply was evaded ; and at length, Mr. Pinkney demanded his audience of leave, determined to put an end to a mission that was hopeless. In this doubtful state of connexion between America and England, an accidental collision took place between vessels of the respective countries, tending much to inflame and widen the existing differences. An English sloop of war, the Little Belt, commanded by captain Bing- ham, descried a ship off the American coast, and made sail to come up with it ; but finding it a frigate and dubious of its nation, he retired. The other, which proved to be American, the President, under captain Rogers, pursued in turn. Both captains hailed nearly together ; and both, instead of replying, hailed again ; and from words, as it were, came to blows, without explanation. Captain Bingham lo.st upwards of thirty men, and his ship suffered severely. A court of inquiry was ordered on the conduct of captain Rogers, which decided that it had been satisfac- torily proved to the court tliat captain Rogers hailed the Little Belt first, that his hail was not satisfactorily answered, that the Little Belt fired the first gun, and that it was without previous provocation or justifiable cause The Americans continued making every preparation for war. Forti- fications were carried on at New- York and New Orleans. This latter position was, indeed, the vulnerable part of the confederacy. It was so felt, and divers plans were proposed ; one for a kind of military colony ; that is, to grant lands to a body of men, on the condition of their being trained, and ready to take arms, should an enemy appear off the coast. But this plan, so little in accordance with the spirit of a free government, was not adopted. West Florida was, however, taken possession of, to cut the Gordian knot of difference on the subject with Spain. The moment was such as allowed the ungenerous advantage to be taken ; Spain herself being occupied by the French, whilst her colonies were torn by civil wars. This formed another item of complaint and remon- strance on the part of the British. 1'44 MADISON. In the spring of 1811, Mr. Foster was sent out plenipotentiary from England, to make another attempt at negotiation. But, as he had no power for stijjulating the rcjteal of the orders in council, his mission was illusive : it was merely productive of argument and diplomatic pleading between him and Mr. Monroe. The British envoy contended, that it was Franco, not England, which commenced the blockade, prohibiting neu- trals ; and that the repeal of her decrees was merely nominal. The American replied that the wrongs of France against his nation, afforded no plea for tlie wrongs of England to be wreaked on it also : he more- over said, that France was sincere. Such arguments were of little avail. Mr. Foster returned without having effected any thing. In the November following, Congress was called together ; and Presi- dent Madi.son addressed it fully respecting the points and consequences of the still widening difference. It was hoped, he said, at the close of last session, that the successive confirmation of the extinction of the French decrees would have induced the government of Great Britain to repeal its orders in council : on the contrary, however, they had been put into more rigorous execution, and fresh outrages had been committed on tlie American coasts. "Notwithstanding the scrupulous justice, the protracted moderation, and the multiplied efforts on the part of the Unit- ed States to substitute for the accumulating dangers to the peace of the two countries, all the mutual advantages of re-established friendship and confidence, we have seen that the British cabinet perseveres, not only in withholding a remedy lor other wrongs, so long and so loudly calling for it, but in the execution, brought home to the threshold of our territory, of measures which, under existing circumstances, have the character, as well as the effect, of war on our lawful commerce. With this evidence of hostile inflexibility, in trampling on rights which no independent na- tion can relinquish. Congress will feel the duty of putting the United States into an aruior and an attitude demanded by the crisis, and corres- ponding with the national spirit and expectations." This was followed up by demands of increase in the army, the navy, and all military stores and establishments. In this address, the President took occasion to allude to a new spirit of hostility displayed amongst the north-western Indians. Party attributed this to British gold and interference. The cause was evident, however, in the aj)pearance of an Indian prophet, a reformer, who preached to his red brethren, that all their disasters had been owing to their having for- saken the wise and simple habits of tlieir ancestors ; and that he had been prompted by the Great Spirit to warn them from mingling with the whites, from eating hogs and bullocks, in lieu of tlie game that used to give them the warrior's and the hunter's spirit, and, above all, from the use of ardent spirits. This last salutary injunction gave force and truth to all that the savage prophet uttertsd. This fanatic advice, however salutary in one respect, necessarily produced hatred towards th6 whites, and outrages upon them. General Harrison was despatched against the Indians in the autumn of 1811. The savages, at fir.st, appeared friendly ; but it was only to cover the purpose of a night assault, which proved almost fatal to the American force : it lost considerable numbers, but suc- ceeded in repulsing the enemy. MADISON. 145 The winter of ISll — 12 passed in jncparations for immediate war, as the British aovernmcnt, then for the first time ehited with military success, showed no signs of yielding. However, the friends of peace and of America exerted themselves in parliament to deter the ministry from the rash act of adding the United States to the number of its enemies ; and this, for the support of commercial prohibition warranted neither by just pride nor wise policy. The marquis of Lansdowne, in the House of Lords, and Mr. Brougham, in the Commons, moved for a committee to take into consideration the orders in council. " If," said the former statesman, "at the time of the revolution in America, any one could have foreseen that the whole commerce of continental Europe would have fallen under the iron grasp and dominion of France, they would luue looked to the establishment of an independent state on the other side of the Atlantic, out of the reach of French power, to become the carrier of our commerce and the purchaser of our manufactures, as the greatest boon that could have been given us. Such an event has occurred, as if provi- dentially : yet this great and inestimable advantage has been destroyed by the orders in council." A majority in both houses voted for going into committee. Tetitions from the manufacturing towns of England poured in against the orders ; and when the report of the committee was brought up, the general voice of the country and of parliament compelled the abandonment by the tories of their obnoxious orders. It was too late, however. The elo- quence of Brougham, — and never was greater shown botii with tongue and pen, — prevailed, but prevailed in vain. On the arrival of a ship from England, bringing no satisfiictory tidings, the President sent a mes- sage to Congress, recapitulating all the causes of complaint against Bri- tafn, (amongst which the stirring up of the Indians on the Wabash was not forgotten,) and recommended a formal declaration of war. Congress acceded to the proposal ; and, notwithstanding the energetic protest of the federals in opposition, war was declared against Great Britain on the 18th of June, 1812. The talk of Mr. Madison to the Indians, in 1812, at the commence- ment of the war, contains sentiments so honorable to himself and his country, and so appropriately and beautifully expressed, that we shall copy a part of this very interesting document. It may be considered as the manifesto of the American government, establishing the principles of its mtercourse with its aboriginal neighbors, in the critical circumstances, which imposed new duties upon both. And the contrast between this course, and that pursued by the British government, must awaken reflec- tions here and elsewhere, which although tardy may yet be useful. " The red people who live on the same great island with the white peo- ple of the eighteen fires, are made by the same Spirit, out of the same earth, from parts of it differing in color only. My regard for all my red children has made me desirous that the bloody tomahawk should be buri- ed between the Osages, the Cherokees, and the Choctaws. I wish also that the hands of the Shawnese and the Osage should be joined in my presence, as a pledge to cherish and observe the peace made at St. Louis. 10 146 MADISON. This was a good peace for both. It is a cliain that ought lo hold them last in friendship. Neitlicr blood nor rust should ever be upon it. " I am concerned that the war has so long been kept up by the Sacs and Foxes against the Osages ; and that latterly a bloody war is carried on between the Osages and the Toways. I now tell my red chil- dren here present, that this is bad for both parties. They must put under my feet their evil intentions against each other, and henceforward live in peace and good will ; each hunting on their lands and working their own soil. A father ought to give good advice to his children, and it is the duty of his children to hearken to it. The people composing the eighteen fires are a great people. You have travelled through their country. You see they cover the land, as the stars fill the sky ; and are as thick as the trees in your forests. Notwithstanding their great power, the British King has attacked them on the great water beyond which he lives. He has robbed them of their ships, and carried away the people belonging to them. Some of them he murdered. lie has an old grudge against the eighteen fires, because when he tried to make them dig and plant for his people beyond the great water, not for themselves, they sent out warriors who beat his warriors ; they carried off the bad chiefs he had sent among them, and set up good chiefs of their own. The eighteen fires did this when they had not the strength they now have. Their blows will now be much heavier, and will soon make him do them justice. It happened when the thirteen fires, now increased to eighteen, forced the British King to treat them as an independent nation, one little fire did not join them. This he has held ever since. It is there that his agents and traders plot quarrels and wars between the eighteen fires and their brethren, and between one red tribe and another. Maiden is the place where all the bad birds have their nests. There they are fed with false tales against the eighteen fires, and are sent out with bloody belts in their bills to drop among the red people who would otherwise remain at peace. It is good for all the red people as well as all the people of the eighteen fires, that a stop should be put to this mischief. Their warriors can do it. They are gone and are going to Canada for this purpose. They want no help from their red brethren. They are strong enough without it. The British, who are weak, are doing all they can. by their bad birds, to decoy the red people into war on their side. I warn all the red people to avoid the ruin this must bring upon them. And I say to you, my children, your father does not ask you to join his warriors. Sit still on your seats; and be witnesses that they are able to beat their enemies, and protect their red friends. This is the fatherly advice I give you. " I have a further advice for my red children. You see how the coun- try of the eighteen fires is filled with people. They increase like the corn they put into the ground. They all have good houses to shelter them from all weathers ; good clothes suitable to all seasons ; and as for food of all sorts, you see they have enough and to spare. No man, avo- man, or child of the eighteen fires ever perished of hunger. Compare all this with the condition of the red people. They are scattered here and MADISON. 147 tliere in handfuls. Their lodges are cold, leaky, and smoky. They have hard fare, and often not enough of it. " Why this mighty difference ? The reason, my red children, is plain: the white people breed cattle and sheep. They plough the earlJi, and make it give them every thing they want. They spin and weave. Their heads and their hands make all the elements and productions of nature useful to them. Above all, the people of the eighteen fires live in con- stant peace and friendship. No tomahawk has ever been raised by one against the other. Not a drop of blood has ever touched the chain that liolds them together as one family. All their belts are white belts. It is in your power to be like them. The ground, that feeds one lodge by hunting would feed a great band by the plough and hoe. The Great Spirit has given you, like your white brethren, good heads to contrive, strong arms, and active bodies. Use them like your white brethren, not all at once, which is difficult, but by little and little, which is easy. Es- pecially, live in peace with one another, like your white brethren of the eighteen fires ; you will be well fed, well clothed ; dwell in good houses, and enjoy the happiness for which you, like them, were created. The Great Spirit is the friend of men of all colors. He made them to be friends of one another. The more they are so, the more he will be their friend. These are the words of your father to his red children. The Great Spirit, who is father of us all, approves them. Let them pass through the ear into the heart. Carry them home to your people. And as long as you remember this visit to your father of tlie eighteen fires, remember these are his last and best words to you." Certain states, that of Massachusetts especially, have been represented as most averse to hostilities with England, and to those measures by which the existing government of the Union tended to that end. The federals in this region not only protested, but meditated the preservation of a state of neutrality, if that were possible without dissolving the Union. In fact, Massachusetts did not like to be dragged into war against its consent. To take advantage of this strong dissent and disunion, the governor of Canada had, it seems, sent an agent to New-England. It was, indeed, an unwarrantable step ; and so criminal was the design, that even the federals denounced it. Jefferson owns that he first learned it through the younger Adams, as early as the time of the embargo. In- stead of making any preliminary complaint or communication to the British government, Mr. Madison brought it forward in Congress ; and it tended considerably to inflame the American mind against England, and to screw it up to that pitch requisite to set aside the consideration of the risk and great expenses of the war. This step was undertaken also for the purpose, no doubt, of intimidat- ing the anti-war party of the eastern states. This party was still con- siderable : it counted a minority on the decisive vote of forty-nine to seventy-nine ; and even since it continued to protest and petition. At Boston, the capital of Massachusetts, — that town which, one may say, had commenced the war of independence, — the flags of the shipping were hoisted half-mast high, in token of mourning for the war of 1812. The southern states were as violent in support of the contrary opinion ; and 148 MADISON. Baltimore was more especially signalized for its anti-English zeal. A federal paper here dared to brave the prevalent opinion. A mob was ex- cited to attack the establishment, which was defended against thorn ; and force arriving, the defenders, not the offenders, were taken to prison. But this did not secure them. The prison doors were broken open next day, and many of tlie federals massacred ; among whom were two veteran generals, friends of Washington. Except rencontres between single ships, the only theatre of war in the United States was the Canadian position ; and thither, accordingly, their efforts were turned. Attempts to call out the militia in Upper Canada had been productive of disturbances, in which the troops and the inhabi- tants had mutually fired upon each other. This encouraged the Ameri- cans to an invasion, and an army was collected for that purpose in the north. General Dearborn was created commander-in-chief; Pinkney, Major-General Wilkinson, Hampton, Hull, were the other names on the list of commanding officers. General Hull was Governor of the Michigan Territory. Not much more than a fortnight after the declaration of war, he collected a body of upwards of two thousand troops of the line and militia, and pushed over the frontier, as if he intended to attack Montreal, publishing, at the same time, an arrogant proclamation. His subsequent movements were as dilatory as his previous haste; and upon hearing that the Indians had invaded his province upon another point, and that the English general, Brock, was at the head of a respectable force, Hull retreated. He was pursued by Brock, who besieged him in Fort Detroit, and was about to try the fortune of an assault, when the American commander, panic- struck, hoi.sted the white flag, and surrendered, with his fort and army, to the surprise and indignation of the Americans. This signal defeat took place in August. As the blame was thrown upon the pusillanimity of the commanders, in little more than a month an American force was again collected uy)on the same position. On this occasion it was thouglit advisable not to risk an invasion, the aim being rather to master some neighboring post, which might make timends for the loss of Detroit. Q,ueenstown, on the Niagara, was fixed on as the object of attack. An American division, under Colonel Van Rennselaer, crossed with the view of mastering it. They stormed it gallantly ; but General Brock arrived at the moment of success, and drove the Ameri- cans back. Whilst reinforcements arrived to the British, the American militia refused to cross the river to reinforce their party ; and, in short, shrunk from the fight. The English, therefore, remained complete vic- tors, capturing all who had crossed to the assault. It was, however, with the loss of the gallant Brock, who was shot whilst cheering on his men, during the doubtful period of the conflict. Thus, upon land, the advantages of this first campaign rested altoge- ther with the British. It was at sea, on the element where they felt most secure, that their superiority was seriously disputed. About the very time that General Hull surrendered in Detroit, Captain Hull, commanding the Constitution frigate, fell in with the British frigate the Guerricre. An engagement ensued ; when, in half an hour, the latter was so totally MADISON. 149 disabled, as not only to be obliged to surrender, but to be burned by her captors. On the 17th of October, another naval victory was achieved over an enemy decidedly superior in force, and under circumstances the most favorable to him. This was the capture of the brig Frolick, of twenty- two guns, by the sloop of war Wasp. Captain Jones had returned from France two weeks after the declara- tion of war, and on the 13th of October, again put to soa. On the 17th, he fell in with si.\ merchant ships, under convoy of a brig and two ships, armed with sixteen guns each. The brig, which proved to be the Frolick, Captain Whinyates, dropped behind, while the others made sail. At half past eleven, the action began by the enemy's cannon and musketry. In five minutes the main-top-mast was shot away, and falling down with the main-top-sail yard across the larboard fore and fore-top-sail, rendered her head yards unmanageable during the rest of the action. In two minutes more, her gaff and mizen-top-gallant-mast were shot away. The sea being exceedingly rough, the muzzles of the Wasp's guns were sometimes under water. The English fired as their vessel rose, so that their shot was either thrown away, or touched only the rigging of the Americans ; the Wasp, on the contrary, fired as she sunk, and every time struck the hull of her antagonist. The fire of the Frolick was soon slackened, and Captain Jones determined to board her. As the crew leaped on board the ene- my's vessel, their surprise can scarcely be imagined, as they found no person on deck except three officers and the seaman at the wheel. The deck was slippery with blood, and presented a scene of havoc and ruin. The officers now threw down their swords in submission, and lieutenant Biddle, of the Wasp, leaped into the rigging to haul down the colors, which were still flying. Thus, in forty-three minutes, ended one of the most bloody conflicts recorded in naval history. The loss on board the Frolick, was thirty killed and fifty wounded ; on board the Wasp, five were killed, and five slightly wounded. The Wasp and Frolick were both captured the same day, by a British seventy-four, the Poictiers, Cap- tain Beresford. The above splendid achievement of Captain Jones was followed on the 25th of October by a combat between the frigates, the United States, commanded by Commodore Decatur, and the Macedonian. The latter, after having suffered dreadfidly and unaccountably in men and vessel, was obliged to surrender. These encounters, and the arguments they gave rise to, strongly sharpened the animosities on both sides, and cheer- ed the American war-party for the disappointments which they experi- enced by land. In November, Congress met ; and the President addressed it by mes- sage, in which he frankly stated the defeats experienced on the Canadian position, and complained much of the employment of the Indians by the British, thus bringing the horrors of savage warfare upon the land. He also complained of the conduct of Massachusetts and Connecticut in re- fusing their contingent of militia. The victories of American ships were cited with just pride ; and Congress was begged to extend some- 150 MADISON. what their allowance to the army. So sparing had this been, that neither soldiers could be recruited nor general oflicers appointed, nor was there such a thing as a military staff. December 29t]i, a second naval victory was achieved by the Constitu- tion, then commanded by Commodore Bainbridgc, over tlie Java, a British frigate of thirty-eight guns, but carrying forty-nine, with four hundred men, commanded by Captain Lambert, wlio was mortally wounded. Tills action was fought off St. Salvador, and continued nearly two hours, when the Java struck, having lost sixty killed and one hundred and twenty wounded. The Constitution had nine men killed and twenty- five wounded. On the Istof January, the commander, linding his prize incapable of being brought in, was obliged to burn her. During the winter, an engagement took place between the Hornet, Captain James Lawrence, and the British sloop of war Peacock, Captain William Peake, off South America. This action lasted but fifteen minutes, when tlie Peacock struck. On her surrendcriuir, a signal of distress was discovered on board the Peacock. She had been so much damaged, that, already, she had six feet of water in her hold, and was sinking fast. Boats were immediately despatched ibr the wounded, and every measure taken, which was practi- cable, to keep her afloat until the crew could be removed. Her guns were thrown overboard, the shot holes were plugged, and a part of the Hornet's crew, at the imminent hazard of their lives, labored incessantly to rescue the vancjuished. The utmost efforts of these generous men were, however, vain ; the conquered vessel sunk in the midst of them, carrying down nine of her own crew, and three of the Americans. With a generosity becoming them, the crew of the Hornet divided their clothing with the prisoners, who were left destitute by the sinking ship. In the action the Hornet received but a slight injury. The killed and wounded, on board the Peacock, were supposed to exceed fifty. However considerable was the opposition to Mr. Madison's policy and administration in the eastern states, still the southern, increased by the number of the newly created states in the western territory, were enabled to out-vote their rivals on the grand jiresidential question. Mr. Madison was, without difficulty, re-elected to his second term of office ; whilst Mr. Gerry became Vice-President in the room of Clinton. The same pre- ponderance he was enabled to exercise in Congress, where a majority passed resolutions approving of the President's refusal to make peace, except upon the removal of the possibility of the English impressing or searching for American seamen. The British government, on its side, placed the principal ports and rivers of America at once in a state of blockade. In order, however, to favor such states as displayed aversion to the war, a system of licenses was adopted, in order to enable ships from their ports to enjoy a trade with the West Indies. The President was indignant at this tenderness shown by foreign for domestic foes, and he denounced it with great heat to the legislature. Winter had, in the mean time, brought no respite to war, even in those inclement countries. In January, 1813, the Americans, under General Winchester, marched to the recapture of Detroit. They were anticipated MADISON. 151 by Colonel Procter, the British officer commanding in the conquered province ; who, with a body of regular troops and Indians, completely defeated the Americans, took their leader and the greater number priso- ners. Of these, a great numl)er fell sacrifices to the cruelty of the sa- vage Indians. Harrison himself was soon after besieged by the British in a ibrt which he had erected. Disaster in this frontier, however, always brought the American side a reinforcement of spirited volunteers ; and the Kentucky men marched to take their revenge upon Colonel Procter, and, in their first onset, dispossessed him of position and batteries. But the British returned to the charge, and, in their turn, routed the Ameri- cans finally. The events of the war had by this time taught the Americans to reverse an opinion previously formed. They knew themselves far superior in force to the British in Canada, where the Indians alone restored propor- tion to the respective numbers. On land, tlierefore, they had reckoned to be victors ; whilst at sea their numerical inferiority seemed to promise defeat : events had turned out directly contrary to this ; their soldiers had been beaten shamefully , their sailors were mostly victorious. The advantage was, therefore, seen, of converting, as far as it was possible, the military operations on the side of Canada into naval ones. The nature of the position, passing through the great lakes, — seas in depth and extent, — rendered this possible. Their first endeavors were directed to the fitting out of a squadron upon Lake Ontario, which should master its waters, and be able to con- vey to the several points upon it, possessed by the British, such force as would be irresistible. Sackett's Harbor was the name of the chief American port upon the lake. Here a fleet was fitted out with great activity and zeal, and, by the end of April, was ready to transport a small army. Upwards of two thousand men embarked, commanded by the American General, Pike. These were wafted to the vicinity of York, the capii il of Upper Canada, where the British had only a garrison of six hundred strong. This small force offered every possible resistance. During the combat. General Pike was slain ; but his troops were too nu- merous for the enemy, and the British were obliged to surrender York. Other expeditions were undertaken' by the Americans upon diflerent points, always with success, unless when, not content with getting pos- session of the place or fort attacked, they thought fit to pursue the retreating British. On one of these occasions, the Americans had two of their generals captured. U]>on another, a detachment of eight hundred men, commanded by Colonel Boerstler, was surrounded and made pri- soners. The British, in the mean time, exerted themselves to rival their enemy upon the lakes. An attack, gallantly made, on Sackett's Harbor was repulsed ; but in a little time, Sir James Yeo was enabled to take the command of a flotilla, equal or superior to the Americans, which turned the advantage upon Lake Ontario against them. On Lake Champlain, also, the British had taken the start of their foes, and destroyed the American establishment of Plattsburg, in revenge for the aff'air of York, which had been twice captured and plundered. 152 MADISON. It was upon Lake Erie, however, that the fiercest struggle took place ; and it ended completely in favor of the Americans. The vessels equip- ped on both sides were mostly from fifty to sixty guns. The advantage of force was on tlie side of Perry, the American Commodore, who had nine of these vessels. Barclay, his antagonist, numbered six; these six, however, bearing more cannon than an equal number of their antagonists. The naval battle fought by these squadrons for the mastery of Lake Erie, was the most important which had yet occurred in the war. Perry, rush- ing headlong with his vessel into action, was at first disabled, and obliged to "shift his flag ; but when all his force came up, the Canadian squadron was beaten in the fight, most of the officers killed, the ships disabled, and obliged to surrender.* This was a source of great exultation to the Americans, whom it com- pensated for all previous losses. Nor were its consequences less important ; as the British forces were compelled to abandon the advantages and posi- tion which they previously won. Detroit, the first conquest of the war, was now given up ; and the retreat was not conducted with that skill and spirit which had marked previous operations. The Americans, under General Harrison, came up with Sir George Prevost, near the Moravian villages, on the Thames, and defeated him, with signal loss on the part of the British. Amongst the slain was the famous Indian chief, Tecum- seh,t brother of the Wabash prophet ; by which loss, as well as by the reverses of the war, these savage allies were much disheartened. * During the battle of Erie, the Lawrence, which Commodore Perry was on board of, was so shattered as to be entirely unmanageable, and only nine of her large crew remamed. In this dilemma, Perry resolved to hoist the American flag on board a more fortunate vessel. For this purpose he entered an open boat, to pass over to the ship Niagara ; and though broadsides were levelled at him, and showers of musketry from three of the enemy's ships, he remained standing in the stem of the boat, until absolutely pulled down by the crew. The Americans watched him with breathless anxiety, as he passed through this scene of peril, and with a transport of joy they saw his flag hoisted at the mast head of the Niagara. Soon after he enter- ed that ship, a captain of one of the guns, having had all his men shot down, ap- proached him, and laying his hand on his shoulder, exclaimed, " For God's sake, sir, give me some more men." When all sense of personal danger was thus swallowed up in eagerness for victory, it is not surprising that Commodore Perry was able to write his strikingly laconic letter : " Dear Sir, We have met the enemy, and they are ours." f This Indian warrior was not only an accomplished military commander, but also a great natural statesman and orator. Among the many strange, and some strongly characteristic events of his life, the council which the American General, Harrison, held with the Indians at Vihcennes, in 1811, affords an admirable instance of the sublimity which sometimes distinguished his eloquence. The chiefs of some tribes had come to complain of a purchase of lands which had been made from the Kickafoos. The council effected nothing, but broke up in confusion, in consequence of Tecumseh having called General Harrison " a liar." During the long talks which took place in the conference, Tecumseh, having finished one of his speeches, looked round, and seeing every one seated, while no seat was prepared for him, a momentary frown passed over his countenance. Instantly General Harrison order- ed that a chair should be given him. Some person presented one, and bowing, said to him, " Warrior, your father. General Harrison, offers you a seat." Tecumseh's dark eye flashed. " My father !" he exclaixned indignantly, extending his arms MADISON. 153 The result of the operations of the nortli-west, and the victory on Lake Erie, prepared the way to attempt a more effectual invasion of Canada. General Wilkinson was now commanding the American forces in the north, General Dearborn having some time before retired on account of indisposition. The force destined for the contemplated invasion of Cana- da, amounted to twelve thousand men, — eight thousand of whom were stationed at Niagara, and four thousand at Plattsburg, under the command of General Hampton. In addition to these forces, those under General Harrison were expected to arrive in season to furnish important assis- tance. The outline of the plan which had been adopted, was to descend the St. Lawrence, passing the British forts above, and, after a junction with General Hampton, at some designated point on the river, to proceed to the Island of fttontreal. Unexpected difficulties, however, occurred, which prevented the execution of this plan, and the American forces retired into winter quarters at St. Regis. General Wilkinson concentrated his forces at Grenadier's Island, be- tween Sackett's Harbor and Kingston, one hundred and eighty miles from Montreal, by the way of the river. This place the army left, on the 25th of October, on board the fleet, and descended the St. Lawrence, sanguine in the expectation of subduing Montreal. On the arrival of the flotilla at Williamsburg, November 9th, one thou- sand five hundred men, of General Boyd's brigade, were landed with a view to cover the boats in their passage through the rapids. On the 11th an engagement took place, which continued two hours, between this de- tachment of the American army, and a detachment of the British under Lieutenant Colonel Morrison. Both parties claimed the victory, but it was, properly, a drawn battle, the British retiring to their encampments, and the Americans to their boats. The loss of the British is not ascer- tained ; that of the Americans, in killed and wounded, was three hundred and thirty-nine. Among the latter was General Carrington, who died of his wounds. A kw days previous to this battle, as General Harrison had not arrived, General Wilkinson despatched orders to General Hampton to meet him at St. Regis. To these orders. General Hampton replied, that it was impracticable to comply with them. On the receipt of this communica- tion, a council of officers was called, which advised to abandon the pro- ject and to retire. Accordingly, General Wilkinson ordered a retreat, and selected French Mills, as the winter quarters of his army. The troops of General Hampton soon followed this example. Thus ended a campaign which gave rise to dissatisfaction, proportion- ed to the high expectations that had been indulged of its success. Pub- lic opinion was much divided as to the causes of its failure, and as to the parties to whom the blame was properly to be attached. In the south-west a furious war was, at the same time, carried on be- towards heaven ; " tKe sun is my father, and the earth is my mother ; she gives me nonrisliment, and I repose upon her bosom." As he ended, he suddenly seated him- self on the ground. 20 154 MADISON. tween the Creek Indians and the Americans. The savages, never com- pletely pacified or reconciled to the Americans, had been roused by a visit from Tecumseh ; who, in the name of the great prophet, told them to arise and whet their tomahawks. On the last day of August, they surprised a fort on the Georgian frontier, and massacred all within, wo- men and children not excepted. General Jackson undertook to seek vengeance for this sanguinary outrage, and marched with a large body of militia into the wilds tenanted by the Creeks. These were not slow to meet their enemies ; and a series of bloody encounters ensued, in all of which, the Indians, though outnumbered, fought with their native desperation, and perished to a man. Jackson earned his renown by the martial spirit he displayed in these wars. The Indians had learned the art of entrenching themselves to advantage. Though beaten at Talla- poosa, they had caused the whites great loss. They made another stand at Tohopeka ; where a thousand chiefs withstood triple their force, and perished valiantly. At last, when the bravest and best of them had been carried off, they submitted. One of the remaining chiefs addressed Jack- son : — "Once I could animate my warriors; but I cannot animate the dead. They can no longer hear my voice. Their bows are at Emuch- faw and Tohopeka. While a chance remained, I asked not for peace : but I now ask it for my nation and myself" At sea, the Americans this year had not so much cause for triumph, although their acknowledged character for equality with British skill and courage was well supported. In the month of February, the United States sloop Hornet, commanded by Captain Lawrence, was attacked by the Peacock, of about equal force. After twenty minutes' combat, the British crew were not only defeated, but their vessel sinking. There was not even time for saving the vanquished ; the sloop going down with twelve persons, of whom three were American sailors, engaged in rescu- ing their foes. For this feat. Captain Lawrence, on his return to Boston, was promoted to the command of the frigate Chesapeake, of old famous. A British frigate, the Shannon, was soon off the harbor ; its commander. Captain Broke, was most desirous of wiping off some of the recent stains on the navy of his country ; and, with a view to effect this, he paid that severe attention to discipline and exercise which long superiority had taught the English to neglect. The Shannon stood in to Boston light-house, to challenge the Chesapeake. Captain Lawrence, with a crew chiefly en- listed for the occasion, accepted the defiance, and sailed out to meet the foe. The Chesapeake and Shannon joined ; when, after fifteen minutes' firing, the British boarded, and carried the American ship. The gallant Lawrence, mortally wounded, refused to allow the colors to be struck, and died", while issuing the heroic order, " Don't give up the ship !" There needs no stronger proof of the equal valor of two brave nations, sprung from a common stock, than these alternate triumphs of that side which happened to be superior in discipline. A less noble species of warfare was carried on along the coasts of the sea and the great gulphs, by frequent landings from British vessels, to molest and plunder the inhabitants and ravage the country. Sometimes an un- MADISON. 155 offending village was cannonaded. These exploits, intended to make the war unpopular in America, had the contrary effect. The British, in judg- ing what their own feelings would he if similarly injured, might have adopted other measures of hostility towards an enemy of which so large a minority was averse to the war. Congress still supported the policy of Mr. Madison, however onerous and unusual the expense. The summer session was almost exclusively consumed in voting additional taxes; which, now that commerce was paralyzed, were necessarily, some of them, internal. Duties were levied upon wine, spirits, sugar, salt ; and a loan of upwards of seven millions of dollars was authorized. A still further demand of supply was made in January, 1814 ; a loan, treble the former amount, was raised, besides other modes having been devised of procuring funds. During the course of the year, the Emperor of Russia had offered his mediation between England and America. This latter country, always anxious to preserve amity with Russia, sent commissioners immediately to St. Petersburgh. Great Britain declined the mediation ; but professed herself willing to appoint on her side negotiators to treat, either in London, or in some neu- tral port. Gottenberg was selected for this purpose. At both extremities of the Lake Ontario, the war was continued, by desultory expeditions of either army, during the commencement of 1814. The British stormed and took Fort Niagara, and afterwards that of Os- wego. In July, an encounter took place at Chippewa, between an American invading force under General Brown, and the British and Canadians under General Riall. The latter attacked, but were repulsed, and, after a severe loss, were obliged to retreat. This gave confidence to the Americans. General Drummond soon after joined the Canadian army with reinforcements, and took the command. This rendering the contending forces more nearly equal, both parties marched to renew the contest. The battle took place near the celebrated falls of Niagara ; the Americans commencing the attack about the hour of sunset. It lasted till late in the night ; the work of slaughter being carried on by the light of the moon. Thougli bravely charging, the Americans could make no im- pression on the British ; while they themselves suffered dreadfully from the English guns, which played from an eminence in the centre of the field. Their efforts were accordingly directed against this battery ; and Colonel Miller led the American troops several times to its assault, gain- ing and losing possession alternately of the disputed point : he even brought up American cannon to support the attack, which presented the novel appearance of gun charging gun. On one occasion, cannons were actually exchanged in the confusion. As the night advanced, the conflict ceased, both parties claiming the victory. The Americans retained pos- session of the field. General Riall, severely wounded, was made priso- ner. The American Generals, Brown and Scott, were also, from their wounds, obliged to quit the field. The siege of Fort Erie was carried on for more than a month, marked by a daring attempt at taking it by storm, on the part of the British, and an equally gallant sortie made by the Americans. Both attempts were repulsed. But, in the end, a large American force marching to the 15G MADISON. relief of the fort, the besiegers drew off, whilst the besieged evacuated it ; and the Americans finally retreated to their own side of the Niagara ; the war in this quarter having given birth to many gallant achievements, but no conquest. Eastward of the great lakes, the Governor GenerJil of Canada resolved on an expedition, which, if it succeeded, would counterbalance the equal issue of operations on the Niagara. With a flotilla on Lake Champlain, and an army along its brink, he advanced to the attack of Plattsburgh. The fortune of the enterprise was decided in a naval engagement on the lake, between Commodore M'Donough and Captain Dovvnie. The latter was slain early in the fight, and his vessel disabled, so that the British flotilla was completely defeated and taken by the enemy. Sir George Prevost was obliged, accordingly, to retreat ; having proved himself here, as in most instances where he personally commanded, to have been sin- gularly unfortunate. As the war in Europe was now over, the British ministry seemed determined to make the Americans, especially the more inveterate ene- mies of the southern provinces, feel more fully, than they had yet done, the inconvenience of having provoked the hostility of England. A squadron, under Sir Alexander Cochrane, having on board an army under General Ross, sailed up the Chesapeake in the month of August. From the open gulph it turned its course up the Patuxent, apparently in search of the Am.erican flotilla, which, under Commodore Barney, had taken shelter there. As the ships of war could not follow the flotilla up the river, the army was disembarked at St. Benedict's to pursue it by land. Its force was estimated at four thousand five hundred. At first no resistance was offered : for it appears that the American secretary of war could not bring himself to credit any serious intention of the English to land.* General Ross, therefore, reached Marlborough, where the flotilla was destroyed, to prevent its falling into his power. But here the ultimate object of the disembarkation became evident, when the British colunms, instead of returning, continued their march in the direction of Washington. The American commander. Winder, resolved, in consequence, to make a stand against the invaders; and, for this purpose, he chose a strong position at Bladensburg, covered by a branch of the Potomac. His force was much greater than that of the British, with whom, however, being the veterans of the peninsula, the raw militia of Virginia and Maryland could scarcely be expected to cope. The chief approach to Bladens- burg lay over a bridge, which was, of course, commanded by the Ameri- can artillery, and served by the seamen of the flotilla. These did their duty skilfully and bravely. The first company of the British that advanced upon the bridge (for General Ross did not tarry for a ford) was * " The force designated by the President was the double of what was necessary ; but failed, as is the general opinion, through the insubordination of Armstrong (who could never believe the attack intended until it was actually made) and the sluggish- ness of Winder before the occasion, and his indecision during it." — Jefferson^s Cot- respondence, vol. iv. p. 256. MADISON. 157 swept away ; and ft was not until the attacking army had crossed in force that the artillery could be mastered. The first regiments that crossed were rash in pushing the Americans, who retired ; they were accordingly severely handled, and repulsed at first. But after three hours' fighting, Bladensburg was abandoned by its defenders, who dispersed among the woods. The British soon after entered Washington. Their general wished to lay the city under contribution ; but his proposal not being hearkened to, orders were given to destroy all the public buildings. This barbarous order, which no plea can excuse, and which certainly was as impolitic for the future as unprofitable for the present, was executed with rigor. The docks, tlie shipping, the magazines, were, of course, fired : these were lawful objects of devastation. But the dooming of the senate- house, the President's palace, the library, to the same fate, was a piece of vandalism that covered the expedition with disgrace.* On the invasion of the capital, the President retired into Virginia, and on the first of September issued the following proclamation : " Whereas the enemy, by a sudden incursion, have succeeded in invad- ing the capital of the nation, defended at the moment by troops less numerous than their own, and almost entirely of the militia; during their possession of which, though for a single day only, they wantonly destroy- ed the public edifices having no relation in their structure to operations of war, nor used at the time for military annoyance ; some of these edi- fices being also costly monuments of taste and of the arts ; and others, depositories of the public archives, not only precious to the naticm as the memorials of its origin and its early transactions, but interesting to all nations, as contributions to the general stock of historical instruction and political science : " And whereas advantage has been taken of the loss of a fort, more *After the retreat of the troops called to the defence of the capital, the enemy took possession of the battle ground, and many of them actually sunk to the ground with fatigue. They rested on their knapsacks, and were so exhausted by their rapid march, that they were unable to follow up their advantages by the pursuit of our army. The force that niarched to the city two hours after the skirmish at Bladens- burg, consisted of about fifteen hundred men, who were not engaged in the action. They proceeded slowly and with great caution, as they apprehended an ambuscade, and believed that the battle was yet to be fought to decide the fate of the city. Ar- rived at the entrance of the town, opposite the residence of Mr. Gallatin, General Ross hailed with his troops, expecting that the city would propose terms of capitu- lation. While in this situation, a shot from Mr. Gallatin's house killed the horse on which General Ross rode. The house was instantly set on fire, and orders were at once given to burn the capitol. Admiral Cockburn was with the army, and, after the capitol was destroyed, he rode through the city on horseback. He met a gentleman in the street, and inquired for the printing office of the National Intelligencer, observing " that he must visit that office, as his friend Gales had honored him with many hard rubs." When he reached the office, two ladies from the adjoining houses came out, and begged him not to burn the buildings, as their houses would, inevitably share the same fate. The admiral very complacently replied, that for their sakes the office should not be burnt; and added with great politeness, " Be tranquil, ladies, you shall be as safely pro- tected under my administration as under that of Mr. Madison." He then sent a file of soldiers, to convey the types and other printing utensils from the office. 158 MADISON. immediately guarding the neighboring town of Alexandria, to place that town within the range of a naval force, too long and too much in the habit of abusing its superiority wlicrever it can be applied, to require, as the al- ternative of a general conflagration, an undisturbed plunder of private property, which has been executed in a manner peculiarly distressing to the inhabitants, who had, inconsiderately, cast themselves on the gene- rosity of the victor : " And whereas it now appears, by a direct communication from the British naval commander on the American station, to be his avowed pur- pose to employ the force under his direction ' in destroying and laying waste such towns and districts upon the coast as may be found assaila- ble ;' adding to this declaration the insulting pretext, that it is in retali- ation for the wanton destruction committed by the army of the United States in Upper Canada, when it is notorious that no destruction has been committed, which, notwithstanding the multiplied outrages previously committed by the enemy, was not unauthorized, and promptly shewn to be so ; and that the United States have been as constant in their endea- vors to reclaim the enemy from such outrages, by the contrast of their own example, as they have been ready to terminate, on reasonable con- ditions, the war itself: " And whereas these proceedings and declared purposes, which exhibit a disregard of the principles of humanity and the rules of civilized war- fare, and which must give to the existing war a character of extended devastation and barbarism, at the very moment of negotiations for peace invited by the enemy himself, leave no prospect of safety to any thing within the reach of his predatory and incendiary operations, but in a manly and universal determination to chastise and expel the invader : " Now, therefore, I, James Madison, President of the United States, do issue this my proclamation, exhorting all the good people thereof to unite their hearts and hands in giving effect to the ample moans possess- ed for that purpose. I enjoin it on all officers, civil and military, to exert themselves in executing the duties with which they are respectively charged. And more especially, I require the officers, commanding the respective military districts, to be vigilant and alert in providing for the defence thereof; for the more effectual accomplishment of which, they are authorized to call to the defence of exposed and threatened places, portions of the militia most convenient thereto, whether they be or be not parts of the quotas detached for the service of the United States under requisitions of the General Government. " On an occasion which appeals so forcibly to the proud feeling and pa- triotic devotion of the American people, none will forget what they owe to themselves ; what they owe to their country and the high destinies which await it; what to the glory acquired by their fathers, in establish- ing the independence which is now to be maintained by their sons, with the augmented strength and resources with which time and Heaven have blessed them." As the operations of the enemy, at this period of the war, created a general excitement throughout the country, their progress is amply illus- trated by contemporary descriptions. However willing we might be to MADISON. 159 drop a veil over this scene in our history, the conccahiicnt of truth, and the tender treatment of misconduct, though the not inappropriate re- sources of eulogy, are unhecoming the just chronicler of the actions of the great. If no discrimination be made between their good deeds and their errors, and the whole be enveloped in the language of general applause, posterity are deceived and the purposes of history are violated. It need not be concealed, that while the most bitter indignation existed towards the enemy, for their contempt of all the rules of honorable war- fare, in the destruction of the public buildings at Washington, equal indignation was excited in respect to those whose duty it was to have provided in the most sufficient manner for the defence of the capital, and to have perished beneath its ruins rather than have surrendered it ignominiously to a bloodless conquest. We present below the account of the capture, which is least discreditable to the parties interested. It is taken from a letter addressed to the editors of the Baltimore Patriot, and bearing date August 2Gth, 1814. " I arrived at Washington on Sunday, 21st instant. At that time the officers of government and the citizens were very apprehensive of an attack from the British, who had landed a force on the Patuxent. Their numbers had not been ascertained, but reports were various, stating them from one thousand to sixteen thousand. General Winder was stationed near the Wood Yard, with about two thousand men, hourly expecting large reinforcements from every quarter, particularly from Baltimore, three thousand men having been ordered to march immediately from that place. On Sunday, the public officers were all engaged in packing off their books, and citizens their furniture. On Monday, this business was continued with , great industry, and many families left the city. The specie was removed from all the banks in the District. Reports were very current, that Winder had received large reinforcements ; so that it was believed by many well informed persons, that he would have ten thousand men embodied in the course of the week. In the expectation that there was a very considerable force collected, the President, accom- panied by the Secretary of War, and of the Navy, left the city for the camp. They arrived there late that night ; and the next morning, find- ing but three thousand men, and learning that the Baltimore troops were encamped at Bladeiisburg, they returned to the city on Tuesday to make further arrangements. All the books and papers were sent off, and the citizens generally left the place. " In the course of that day, a scouting party from General Winder's army had a skirmish with the British advanced guard, and returned to camp with such tidings as induced General Winder to retire to the city, with his army, which he accomplished by nine o'clock in the evening, burnt the old bridge which crossed the Potomac, and encamped on the hill, directly above the other bridge, about one mile and a half from the navy yard, and prepared to defend that passage. In the event of the British being too strong, the bridge was to be blown up, for which he had every thing prepared. At this post he remained the whole night, expect- ing the enemy's forces. On Wednesday morning, I walked through the army, and remained at the bridge until ten o'clock, when advice was 160 MADISON. received, that the enemy had taken the Bladensburg road. The troops were immediately put into motion, and by twelve o'clock the whole were on their marcli, in the hope of forming a junction with the Baltimore troops, before the enemy reached Bladensburg. This was only partially accomplished, when the battle commenced, and was contested by the Baltimore troops and the men from the flotilla, with great spirit and gal- lantry, until it appeared useless for so small a force, very badly supported, to stand against six thousand regulars, all picked men and well supplied. A retreat was ordered, when the President, who had been on horseback w-ith the army the whole day, retired from the mortifying scene, and left the city on horseback, accompanied by General Mason and Mr. Carroll. At Georgetown, the President met his lady, she having left the city only a half hour before him, having remained with great firmness and compo- sure at the President's house, until a messenger brought her the tidings, that the British were within a few miles of the city, and that our army were retreating, without any chance of being rallied so as to check their inarch. " The President and Secretary of State went to Virginia with their families — the other officers of government went to Fredericktown, where the government is to be formed, and where the President intends to meet his secretaries next week. I remained at the President's house, until all our army had passed, and ninety-nine hundredths of the citizens gone, leaving nothing but empty walls. I fell into the trail of the army, and marched about four miles on the Frederick road. Being much fatigued, 1 turned off into a wood, and found good quarters in a farmhouse, on the hill back of Pearce's. Soon after reaching there, at nine o'clock on Wednesday evening, a signal gun was discharged, and the President's house, the capitol, and many other public buildings, were at the same mo- ment in a blaze, which continued nearly all night. " On Thursday morning I proceeded on with the army to Montgomery court-house, where General Winder's head-quarters were established. I had some conversation with him. He appeared to regret very much that he had not been enabled to have made a greater resistance, although he was perfectly satisfied that a successful resistance could not have been made, with the force in the neighborhood of Washington, since, if it had all been brought together before the action, it would not have been so large as that opposed to him, and our force was principally militia, and that of the enemy, all regulars and picked men. " The uncertainty on which road the enemy intended to attack the city, compelled him to keep his forces divided, and their being divided occa- sioned frequent marches and counter-marches, which at this hot season was quite too much for our militia." The work of destruction achieved, the British retreated without loss of time to their ships, and, re-embarking, sailed to menace and to ravage other points. Alexandria was captured, but ransomed all, save its stores and shipping. Baltimore was the next town devoted by the British to their vengeance. It was the most obnoxious and anti-federal, as well as important ; and was, consequently, considered a proper object of attack. General Ross landed about fifteen miles from the city, at the head of MADISON. 161 about five thousand men, on the 12th of September. The disaster of Washington, however, had inspired more strenuous measures of defence; and the Americans on this point were far better prepared. They occu- pied a strong position in advance of Baltimore. In the first skirmish that occurred, the British commander was shot by a rifleman; which damped the hopes, as well as deranged the projects, of the expedition. The English, however, marched to the attack, and routed the Americans. However, there was still a stronger position behind, capable of a better defence. The co-operation of the fleet had been reckoned on to ficilitate the carrying of this, which was, in fact, the heights above Baltimore. Admiral Cochrane, however, had found this impracticable from the shal- lowness of the harbor, as well as from the vessels sunk at its mouth. Those in command of the expedition accordingly abandoned its further prosecution ; the army retreated and again embarked. After some further cruises and menaces in the Chesapeake, the English fleet aban- doned it for a more remote enterprise. The following account of the attack on Baltimore is from the letter of an eye-witness, bearing date September 17, 1814: " I will give you an account of the approach of the enemy before this place, so far as it came under my owr observation. On Saturday last, and the day previous, we had correct intelligence that the enemy had collected all his force, to the amount of forty-seven sail, and were pro- ceeding down the bay, consequently we were led to hope we should have a little rest from our incessant labors, in preparing to resist them. On Satur- day noon. Major Armistead, the commander of Fort M'Henry, permitted Chief Justice Nicholson, who commands our volunteer corps of eighty men, to march to town, holding ourselves in readiness to return the mo- ment he thought prudent to call. As it turned out, while we were marching to town, the enemy tacked about, and just at dusk were seen under a press of sail, with a fair wind, approaching the town. Their movements were closely watched at the fort, and at half past nine o'clock. Judge Nicholson received orders to repair to the fort with his men. We were all immediately rallied, and arrived at the fort before twelve, although the rain poured down in torrents. On our arrival, we found the matches burning, the fiirnaces heated and vomiting rcd-liot shot, and every thing ready for a gallant defence. At this time the enemy had arrived as far up as North Point, twelve miles below the fort. We remained at our posts till daylight, at which time the enemy remained at the same place, some at anchor and others under easy sail, lying off and on. " They continued this kind of movement all day on Sunday. During the succeeding night and the forepart of Monday, they were busily employ- ed in landing their troops, but all was quiet on the part of the naval ope- ration against the fort, till Tuesday morning, at which time they had advanced to within two and a half miles of the fort, arranged in most elegant order, all at anchor, forming a half circle, with four bomb-vessels ana a rocket ship, stretched from right to left, in the advance. The action commenced on their part by the discharge of a few rockets, which were harmless indeed. These, I am sure, were not intended as an 21 162 MADISON. attack upon us, but fired as a signal to inform their land troops of their readiness for co-operation. " InuTiediately after these discharges, two of the headmost frigates opened upon us, but finding their shot not reaching us, they ceased and ad- vanced up a little nearer. The moment they had taken their position, Major Armistead mounted the parapet, and ordered a battery of twenty-four pounders to be opened upon them ; immediately after a battery of forty- twos followed, and then the whole fort let drive at them. We could see the shot .strike the frigates in several instances, when every heart was gladdened, and we gave three cheers, the music playing Yankee Doodle. Upon this the frigates stood off, and, in five minutes, all lay just out of reach of our shot. The bomb-vessels advanced a little, and commenced a tremendous bombardment, which lasted all day and all night, with hardly a moment's intermission. " Finding our shot would not reach them, the cannonading, which was sublime and enlivenincr, was ordered to be closed. We then resorted to our mortars, and fired six or eight, but, sorrowful to relate, they, like our shot, fell short, owing to their chambers not being so deep as those of the enemy. Here then we were again foiled, and were reduced to the dread- ful alternative of facing by far the most tremendous bombardment ever known in this country, without any means of resisting it — upwards of one thousand five hundred bombs having fallen in and about the fort. Fortunately but little damage was done. In our company we had six severely wounded, and two killed. Sergeant Clemm, a young man of most amiable character, gentlemanly manners, and real courage, was killed by my side ; a bomb bursting overhead, a piece of the size of a dollar, two inches thick, passed through his body in a diagonal direction from his navel, and went into the ground upwards of two feet. It was dug up immediately after, and is preserved by his friends. Instantly before this, a bomb struck the bastion, then in charge of Lieutenant Claggett, our third, which killed him upon the spot, wounded four men, dis- mounted a twenty-four pounder, broke the carriage wheel, and did con- siderable other damage. This happened on my right, about twenty-five paces distant. In the whole we had seven killed in the fort, and fifteen wounded. " From twelve to one o'clock in the night, the enemy slackened a little ; during which time, a picked party of mariners towed up in a silent manner, a bomb-vessel, which got almost in rear of our fort, unobserved by the look-outs, on account of the extreme darkness of the night. After choosing her position, she began on our right, in high style. Cap- tains Evans and Nicholson were instantly ordered to open their batteries of twenty-fours with grape and canister, which was immediately followed by Fort Covington, a tight little place one and a half miles above us. The enemy likewise poured in their canister and grape, but in less than five minutes was silenced, and we heard no more of them from that quarter, but the bombardment was kept up from their old position, with increased fury, till dawn of day, when they appeared to be disposed to decline the unprofitable contest. At this time our morning gun was fired, the flag hoisted, Yankee Doodle played, and we all appeared in full view MADISON. 1G3 of a forinidahle and mortified enemy, who calculated upon our surren- der in twenty minutes after tlie commencement of the action." On the nineteenth of September, the day assigned for the meeting of Congress, the members assembled at Washington in rooms hastily fitted up for their reception. The roll of the Senate was called, and it appear- ed tliat nineteen members only were present. The Vice-President not having arrived, the Hon. John Gaillard, of South Carolina, took the chair as President pro tempore of the Senate. In the House, the Speaker, lion, Langdon Cheeves, took the chair, at twelve o'clock, and ninety-four mem- bers appeared in their seats. As there was not a quorum present, the House separated by special consent till five o'clock in the evening. A suihcient number having then been formed, a committee was appointed to join the committee of the Senate, to wait on the President, and inform him they were ready to receive any communication he might intend to offer. On the following day, the President transmitted the usual Mes- sage to Congress by Mr. Edward Cole, his secretary. This document we copy almost entire. The view which it takes of our military affairs, and of our existing relation towards the enemy, renders it valuable and interesting. " In the events of the present campaign, the enemy, with all his aug- mented means and wanton use of them, has little ground for exultation, unless he can feel it in the success of his recent enterprises against this metropolis and the neighboring town of Alexandria ; from both of which his retreats were as precipitate as his attempts were bold and fortu- nate. In his other incursions on our Atlantic frontiers, his progress, often checked and chastised by the martial spirit of the neighboring citizens, has had more effect in distressing individuals, and in dishonor- ing his arms, than in promoting any object of legitimate warfare. And in the two instances mentioned, liowever deeply to be regretted on our part, he will lind in his transient success, whicli interrui)ted lor a mo- ment only the ordinary public business at the seat of government, no compensation for the loss of character with the world by this violation of private property, and by his destruction of public edifices, protected as monuments of the arts by the laws of civilized warfare. " On our side, we can appeal to a series of achievements, which have given new lustre to the American arms. Besides the brilliant incidents in the minor operations of the campaign, the .splendid victories gained on the Canadian side of the Niagara, by the American forces under Major General Brown, and Brigadiers Scott and Gaines, have gained for these heroes and their cnuilating companions, the most unfading laurels ; and having triumphantly tested the progressive discipline of the American soldiery, have taught the enemy that the longer he protracts his hostile efforts, the more certain and decisive will be his final discomfiture. " On the southern border, victory has continued also to follow the American standard. The bold and skilfid operations of Major-General Jackson, conducting troops drawn from the militia of the states least dis- tant, particularly of Tennessee, have subdued the principal tribes of hostile savages, and by establishing a peace with them preceded by recent and exemplary chastisement, has best guarded against the mischief of their co-operation with the British enterprises which may be planned against 164 MADISON. that quarter of our country. Important tribes of Indians on our north- western frontier have also acceded to stipulations, which bind them to the interests of the United States, and to consiser our enemy as theirs also. ." In the recent attempt of the enemy on the city of BaUimore, defend- ed by miUtia and volunteers, aided by a small body of regulars and sea- men, he was received with a spirit which produced a rapid retreat to the ships, whilst a concurrent attack by a large fleet was successfully re- sisted by the steady and well directed fire of the fort and batteries oppos- ed to it. " In another recent attack by a powerful force on our troops at Platts- burg, of which regulars made a part only, the enemy, after a perseve- rance for many hours, was finally compelled to seek safety in a hasty retreat, with our gallant bands pressing upon him. " On the lakes, so much contested throughout the war, the great exertions for the command made on our part have been well repaid. On Lake Ontario, our squadron is now, and has been for some time, in a con- dition to confine that of the enemy to his own port ; and to favor the operations of our land forces on that frontier. " A part of the squadron on Lake Erie has been extended to Lake Huron, and has produced the advantage of displaying our command of that lake also. One object of the expedition was the reduction of Macki- naw, which failed, with the loss of a few brave men, among whom was an ofiicer justly distinguished for his gallant exploits. The expedition, ably conducted by both the land and naval commanders, was otherwise valuable in its effects. " On Lake Champlain, where our superiority had for some time been undisputed, the British squadron lately came into action with the Ame- rican, conunandcd by Captain M'Donough. It issued in the capture of the whole of the enemy's ships. The best praise of this officer and his intre- pid comrades is in the likeness of his triumph to the illustrious victory, which immortalized another officer, and established, at a critical moment, our command of another lake. "On the ocean, the pride of our naval arms has been amply support- ed. A second frigate has indeed fallen into the hands of the enemy, but the loss is hidden in the blaze of heroism with which she was defend- ed. Captain Porter, who commanded her, and whose previous career had been distinguished by daring enterprise and by fertility of genius, maintained a sanguinary contest against two ships, one of them superior to his own, and other severe disadvantages, till humanity tore down the colors which valor had nailed to the mast. This officer and his brave comrades have added much to the rising glory of the American flag, and have merited all the effusions of gratitude which their country is ever ready to bestow on the champions of its rights and of its safety. " Two smaller vessels of war have also become prizes to the enemy, but by a superiority of force which sufficiently vindicates the reputation of their commanders ; whilst two others, one commanded by Captain Warrington, the other by Captain Blakely, have captured British ships of the same class, with a gallantry and good conduct, which entitled them and their companions to a just share in the praise of their country. MADISON. 1C5 " In spile of the naval force of the enemy accumulated on our coasts, our private cruisers also have not ceased to annoy his commerce, and to bring their rich prizes into our ports ; contributing thus, with other proofs, to demonstrate the incompetency and tlie illegality of a blockade, the proclamation of which is made the pretext for vexing and discouraging the commerce of neutral powers with the United States. " To meet the extended and diversified warfare adopted by the enemy, great bodies of militia have been taken into service for the public defence, and great expenses incurred. That the defence every where may be both more convenient and more economical, Congress will see the neces- sity of immediate measures for filling the ranks of the regular army ; and of enlarging the provisions for special corps, mounted and unmounted, to be engaged for longer periods of service than are due from the militia. I earnestly renew, at the same time, a recommendation of such changes in the system of the militia, as, by classing and disciplining for the most prompt and active service the portions most capable of it, will give to that great resource for the public safety, all the requisite energy and effi- ciency. " The monies received into the Treasury, during the nine months ending on the 13th day of June last, amounted to thirty-two millions of dollars, of which eleven millions were the proceeds of the public revenue, and the remainder derived from loans. The disbursements for public expendi- tures, during the same period, exceeded thirty-four millions of dollars, and left in the Treasury on the 1st of July, near five millions of dollars. The demands during the remainder of the present year, already autho- rized by Congress, and the expenses incident to an extension of the opera- tions of the war, will render it necessary that large sums should be pro- vided to meet them. " From this view of the national affairs, Congress will be urged to take up without delay, as well the subject of pecuniary supplies as that of mili- tary force, and on a scale commensurate with the extent and character which the war has assumed. " It is not to be disguised, that the situation of our country calls for its greatest efforts. Our enemy is powerful in men and money ; on the land and on the water. Availing himself of fortuitous advantages, he is aim- ing, with an undivided force, a deadly blow at our growing pros[)erity, perhaps at our national existence. He has avowed his purpose of tramp- linir on the usages of civilized warfare, and given earnests of it in the plunder and wanton destruction of private property. In his pride of maritime dominion, and in his thirst of commercial monopoly, he strikes with peculiar animosity at the progress of our navigation and of our ma- nufictures. His barbarous policy has not even spared those monuments of the arts, and models of taste, with which our country had enriched and embellished its infant metropolis. From such an adversary, hostility in its greatest force and worst forms may be looked for. The American people will face it with the undaunted spirit which, in their revolutionary struggle, defeated his unrighteous projects. His threats and his barbari- ties, instead of dismay, will kindle in every bosom an indignation not to bo extinguished but in the disaster and expulsion of such cruel invaders. 166 MADISON. In providing the means necessary, the National Legislature will not distrust the heroic and enlightened patriotism of its constituents. They will cheerfully and proudly bear every burden of every kind, which the safety and honor of the nation demand. We have seen them every where paying their taxes, direct and indirect, with the greatest prompt- ness and alacrity. We see them rushing with enthusiasm to scenes where danger and duty call. In offering their blood, they give the surest pledge that no oi.her tribute will be withheld. " Having forborne to declare war until to other aggressions had been added the capture of nearly a thousand American vessels, and the im- pressment of thousands of American seafaring citizens, and until a final declaration had been made by the government of Great Britain, that her hostile orders against our commerce would not be revoked but on condi- tions as impossible as unjust ; whilst it was known that these orders would not otherwise cease, but with a war which had lasted nearly twenty years, and which, according to appearances at that time, might last as many more ; having manifested, on every occasion and in every proper mode, a sincere desire to arrest the effusion of blood, and meet oiir enemy on the ground of justice and reconciliation, our beloved country, in still opposing to his persevering hostility all its energies, with an undi- minished disposition towards peace and friendship on honorable terms, must carry with it the good wishes of the impartial world, and the best hopes of support from an omnipotent and kind Providence." In the north-eastern parts of the Union, scenes were now enacting, similar to those which had disgraced the British on the southern coasts. At Hampden, in Maine, the destruction of private property by the British squadron was very great. It appears to have proceeded, however, from the lawless spirit of the soldiers, and not to have been directly authorized by the commanding officers, as the destruction of the shipping was stopped by order of Sir John Sherbrooke, and several sailors were arrested for pillaging dwelling-houses. Castine was taken, and the British soldiers were kept continually employed in erecting fortifications there. Most of the trees in the place were cut down, and a considerable distance in the vicinity was cleared to prevent the unexpected approach of an enemy. Between fifty and an hundred pieces of cannon were mounted, and a canal was commenced from Castine river to the Penobscot, to separate the toWn from the main. Four large, and several smaller forts were built, and the whole town was put in a posture of complete defence.* * Among the other exploits which did honor to the British arms, was one of Sir G. Collier, who commanded the ship Leander, and made his appearance off a small cove, below Sandy Bay, Cape Ann, and manned three barges which stood for the cove. About fifty men collected from the vicinity, and with a six pounder and musketry, exchanged several fires with the barges, when they returned to the ship. A flag was immediately despatched from the Leander, bearing the following note from the commander : " Leander, 1, P. M., Tuesday. " Sir George Collier believes the boat, on shore, a fisherman. He desires to examine her without recourse to arms, and if objected to, he will land and destroy every house within two miles of the cove. This the inhabitants may rely upon. G. Collier." MADISON. 167 The commissioners of both nations had, in the mean lime, met, not, as had been first arranged, at Gottenberg, but at Ghent. The triumph of the British over Bonaparte had naturally increased the arrogance of their tone, whilst the ravaging expeditions on the American coast, con- trasted with the state of the war in Canada, confirmed the Americans in their proud determination not to yield. The English demanded that no further acquisition of territory should be made at the expense of the In- dians. To this and other demands the American commissioners objected; and the first attempts at an accommodation altogether failed. In the mean time the exasperation of the federalists — more properly of the party averse to war in the New-England states — grew to a height that almost menaced a revolution. Mr. Strong, the Governor of Massa- chusetts, was at the head of this party ; and his addresses to the legisla- ture of liis state vied with those of the President to Congress in strength and bitterness, but with sentiments directly opposite. " The lovers of peace," said he, " are accused of being under British influence. Those of war are as much instigated by French influence." Distress was at the bottom of this discontent ; for Massachusetts had not only traded in British manufactures, but, from the long credit given by the merchants of that country, literally traded upon the capital of the latter. Of these great advantages war deprived them. To alleviate this distress somewhat, the rigor of the laws prohibiting both imports and exports was relaxed ; and as the enemy's fleet had hitherto confined their blockade to the southern ports, it was hoped that Boston and New- York might enjoy a circuitous or indirect trade, which would reconcile them to the war. Great Britain, however, about this time, fi-eed from the necessity of keep- ing her cruisers around the shores of Europe, despatched them to Ameri- ca, and enforced her blockade all along the coast, in order to protect her trade more effectually from the privateers of her foe. The New-Englanders not only felt this, but they saw Britain so victo- rious in her European struggle, that it seemed madness to resist her. The destruction of Washington, the ravage of the banks of the Chesa- peake, showed what was to be expected from a continuance of hostilities. Towards the close of the year they, consequently, attacked the govern- ment more virulently than ever, accusing it of first exciting the war gra- tuitously, persevering in it obstinately, yet taking none of the requisite measures for preserving the country from insult or conquest. To remedy this crying evil, by which one section of states were sacrificed to the interests of another, they proposed a convention of delegates from th^ different sections of the Union to be summoned to meet at Hartford, in order to take into consideration the changes to be made in the Constitu- tion. This was the most serious schism that had as yet menaced the integrity of the Federal Union. The Hartford Convention met, though attended merely by the delegates of the anti-war, or north-eastern states. Their discussions were kept secret, and they separated for the time, after merely venting tlieir grievances in a public address. This dangerous* spirit, as well as the distresses of the government, be- coming most formidable in a financial point of view, were arrested by the tidings, that peace at length had been signed at Ghent, in December. 168 MADISON. These tidings, however, did not arrive until the army, victorious at Washinston. had received a check, which terminated the war in a man- ner glorious to the nation, and much to the support of the political party in power. We refer, of course, to the battle of New-Orleans, a detailed account of which has been given in another part of the volume. The capture of the President, an American frigate, by the Endymion, which took place about the same time, off New- York, after a sharp con- test, was no counterpoise to this disaster : nor yet the taking of Fort Mobile by the army that had retreated from New-Orleans. The news of peace came to America amidst the rejoicings for the vic- tory of New-Orleans. It was doubly welcome, because so gloriously terminated. Great Britain made no demands ; and when the Americans desisted from theirs, — which, indeed, the cessation of war left no room for, since impre.ssment and the right of search were applicable merely to war, — (here seemed scarcely a stipulation necessary. All that England insisted on was the abolition of the slave trade. The settlement of the boundary line on the side of Canada was left to commissioners of both nations. On the 17th of February, 1815, the President and Senate rati- fied the treaty of Ghent ; and North-America breathed, with Europe, free from the horrors of war. In the good humor of the moment, the ruling party seems to have lost much of its anti-British rancor. A commercial treaty was concluded upon fair terms between the countries. The Americans were permitted by England to trade with the East and the West-Indies; on the condition, however, of transferring the produce directly to their own ports. For ?fmip, tune, the old illiberal policy towards England was allowed to lie dormant. A state of hostility, however, gives to a numerous class of per.sons certain occupations and interests necessarily arising out of, and depending on war. Such persons, although they dared not abet such a proposal as eternal war, still wished for a state, as far as commerce and manufactures were concerned, tantamount to it. Whilst shut out from England, the Americans had begun to fiibricate divers articles of neces- sity for themselves ; of course, at a dearer rate, and with less skill, than those excluded. Peace brought back the cheap and the good commodity from England. The American could not stand the competition ; and exclaimed against the want of patriotism in sacrificing him to foreigners. 7'he infant manufactures of the country, argued the manufacturers, ought to be supported. Petitions and addresses to this effect soon crowded the ^able of Congress ; and as the consumer was not so early alive to his interests as the rnanufVicturer, the complaint of the former made impres- sion and won favor by its plausibility. Mr. Madison, himself, jealous of the decline of manufactures, and still more of shipping, owing to the rivalry of the British, felt his old prejudices revive; and his messages to Congress soon came to recommend prohibitory measures and conservative duties. The summer of 1816 passed away without being marked by any events of peculiar moment. The country appeared to be gradually recovering from the embarrassments induced by the war, and that asperity of feeling, which had agitated the different political parties in the United States, was MADISON. 169 visibly ^Yea^ing away. Congress met in December. In die conclusion of his message at the opening of ilie session. ^Ir. Madison, anticipating die speedy arrival of the day, when he should reure from the presidency, took occasion to express his aiiachmeni for his comitry, and liis wishes for her future peace and prosperity : " I can indulge the proud reflection," said he, " that tlie American people have reached in sai'ety and success, iheir fortieth year, as- an independent nation : that for nearly an entire generation, they have had experien«'e of their present Constitution, the otrspring of their undisturbed deliberations •and of tlieir free choice ; that they have found it to bear tlie trials of adverse as well as prosperous circumstances, to contain in its combina- tion of the federate and elective principles, a reconcilement of public strength with individual liberr\% of national power for tlie defence of national rights, with a security against wars of injusuce, of ambition, or of ^-ain glory, in the fundamental provision which subjects ail questions of war to the wiU of tlie nation itself, which is to pay its costs, and feel its calamities. Nor is it less a pecuhar felicity of this Consiimdon, so dear to us all. that it is found to be capable, without losing its vital ener- gies, of expanding itself over a spacious territory, with tiie increase and expansion of tlie community, for whose benefit it was established." On leaving the Presidential chair. Mr. Madison passed the remainder of his life in a digniticd and honorable retirement. Without mingling in the petrj' and distracting discussions of the day. he has always been ready to express his opinions on the grreat constitutional quesuons in re- gard to which he has been consulted. No man perha}%s ^^•;>s so famili;ir with the history of die Constitution, so thoroughly understood it. or sj-»ec- ulated with so much clearness and fehcity on its principles, as Mr. Madi- son. The letter which he wrote in August, 1S30, on tin? agitating topic of millification, is so admirable and conclusive that we shall insert entire. This letter paper was addressed to Mr. Ed\\*ard Everett, now governor of Massachusetts, and first appeared in die North American Review. "Widi die farewell address of the father of his country' — that immortal compend of reflective wisdom and patriotic counsel — it should be imprinted on the mind and the heart of every citizen. To aU who lo^-e their countx)-, it cannot but be a source of regret that such an oracle has been silenced. *' MoxTPELiEK, ArcrsT, 1S30. " Dear Sik : *' I have duly received your letter, in which you refer to die " nulli- fying doctrine.' advocated as a constitutional right by some of our dis- unguished fellow-citizens j' and to the proceedings of tlie Virginia Legis- lature in '9S and '99. as appealed to in behalf of that doctrine : and you express a wish for my ideas on diose subjects. " 1 am aware of the delicacy of the task in some respects, and the difliculiy, in every respect, of cloing full justice to it. But having, in more dian one instance, complied with a like request from other friendly quai-ters, I do not decKiie a sketch of die views which I have been led to take of die doctrine in question, as well as some odiers connected with them ; and of the grounds from which it appears that the proceedings of 170 MADISON. Virginia have been misconceived by those who have appealed to tliem. In order to understand the true character of the Constitution of the United States, the error, not uncommon, must be avoided, of viewing it through the medium, either of a Consolidated Government, or of a Fede- rated Government, whilst it is neither the one nor the other ; but a mix- ture of both. And having, in no model, the similitudes and analogies applicable to other systems of government, it must, more than any other, be its own interpreter, according to its text and the facts of the case. "From these it will be seen that the characteristic peculiarities of the Constitution are, 1, the mode of its formation ; 2, the division of the su- preme powers of government between the states in their united capacity, and the states in their individual capacities. " 1. It was formed, not by the governments of the component states, as the Federal Government, for which it was substituted, was formed. Nor was it formed by a majority of the people of the United States, as a single community, in the manner of a Consolidated Government. " It was formed by the states, that is, by the people in each of the states, acting in their highest sovereign capacity ; and formed conse- quently, by the same authority which formed the State Constitutions. " Beincr thus derived from the same source as the constitutions of the states, it has, within each state, the same authority as the constitution of the state : and is as much a constitution, in the strict sense of the term, within its prescribed sphere, as the constitutions of the states are, within their respective spheres ; but with this obvious and essential dif- ference, that being a compact among the states in their highest sovereign capacity, and constituting the people thereof one people for certain pur- poses, it cannot be altered or annulled at the will of the states individu- ally, as the constitution of a state may be at its individual will. "2. And that it divides the supreme powers of government, between the government of the United States, and the governments of the indi- vidual states, is stamped on the face of the instrument ; the powers of war and of taxation, of connnercc and of treaties, and other enumerated powers vested in the Government of the United States, being of as high and sovereign a character as any of the powers reserved to the state governments. "Nor is the Government of the United States, created by the Consti- tution, less a government in the strict sense of the term, within the sphere of its powers, than the governments created by the constitutions of the states are, within their several spheres. It is, like them, organized into Legislative, Executive, and Judiciary departments. It operates, like them, directly on persons and things. And, like them, it has at command a physical force for executing the powers committed to it. The concur- rent operation in certain cases, is one of the features marking the pecu- liarity of the system. " Between these different constitutional governments, the one operating in all the states, the others operating separately in each, with the aggre- gate powers of government divided between them, it could not escape attention, that controversies would arise concerning the boundaries of jurisdiction ; and that some provision ought to be made for such occur- MADISON. 171 rences. A political system that does not provide for a peaceable and au- thoritative termination of occurring controversies, would not be more than the shadow of a government; the object and end of a real government being the substitution of law and order, for uncertainty, confusion, and violence. " That to have left a final decision, in such cases, to each of the states, then thirteen, and already twenty-four, could not fail to make the Consti- tution and Laws of the United Stales different in diflerent states, was obvious ; and not less obvious, thai this diversity of independent decisions must altogether distract the Government of the Union, and speedily put an end to the Union itself A uniform authority of the Laws is in itself a vital principle. Some of the most important laws could not be partially executed. They must be executed in all the states, or they could be duly executed in none. An impost, or an excise, for example, if not in force in some states, would be defeated in others. It is well known that this was among the lessons of experience which had a primary influence in bringing about the existing constitution. A loss of its general authori- ty would moreover revive the exasperating questions between the states holding ports for foreign commerce, and the adjoining states without them ; to which are now added all the inland states, necessarily carrying on their foreign commerce through other states. " To have made the decisions under the authority of the individual stales,^ co-ordinate, in all cases, with decisions under the authority of the United States, would unavoidably produce collisions incompatible with the peace of society, and with that regular and eflicient administration, which is of the essence of free governments. Scenes could not be avoid- ed, in which a ministerial oflicer of the United States, and the correspon- dent officer of an individual state, would have rencounters in executinof connictmg decrees ; the result of which would depend on the compara- tive force of the local posses attending them ; and that, a casualty depend- ing on the political opinions and party feelings in different states. " To have referred every clashing decision, under the two authorities for a final decision to the states as parties to the constitution, would be attended with delays, with inconveniences, and with expenses, amounting to a prohibition of the expedient ; not to mention its tendency to impair the salutary veneration for a system requiring such frequent interpositions, nor the delicate questions which might present themselves as to the form of stating the appeal, and as to the quorum for deciding it. " To have trusted to negotiation for adjusting disputes between the Government of the United States and the State Governments, as between independent and separate sovereignties, would have lost sight altogether of a Constitution and Government for the Union, and opened a direct road from a failure of that resort, to the ultima ratio between nations wholly independent of and alien to each other. If the idea had its origin in the process of adjustment, between separate branches of the same govern- ment, the analogy entirely fails. In the case of disputes between inde- pendent parts of the same government, neither part being able to consum- mate its will, nor the government to proceed without a concurrence of the parts, necessity brings about an accommodation. In disputes between ^ 172 MADISON. State Government, and the Government of the United States, the case is practically as well as theoretically different; each party possessing all the departments of an organized government. Legislative, Executive, and Judiciary, and having each a physical force to support its pretensions. Although the issue of negotiation might sometimes avoid this extremity, how often would it happen, among so many states, that an unaccommo- dating spirit in some, would render tliat resource unavailing ? A contrary supposition would not accord with a knowledge of human nature, or the evidence of our own political history. " The Constitution, not relying on any of the preceding modifications, for its safe and successful operation, has expressly declared, on the one hand, 1, 'that the Constitution, and the laws made in pursuance thereof, and all treaties made under the authority of the United States, shall be the supreme law of the land ; 2, that the Judges of every state shall be bound thereby, any thing in the constitution and laws of any state to the contrary notwithstanding; 3, that the judicial power of the United States shall extend to all cases in law and equity arising under the con- stitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made under their authority, &c.' "On the other hand, as a security of the rights and powers of the states in their individual capacities, against an undue preponderance of the powers granted to the government over them in their united ca- pacity, the Constitution lias relied on, 1, the responsibility of the Sena- tors and Representatives in the Legislature of the United States to the Legislatures and people of the states ; 2, the responsibility of the Presi- dent to the people of the United States; and, 3, the liability of the Executive and Judicial functionaries of the United States to impeach- ment by the Representatives of the people of the states, in one branch of the Legislature of the United States, and trial by the Representatives of the states, in the other branch: the state functionaries. Legislative, Executive, and Judicial, being, at the same time, in their appointment and responsibility, altogether independent of the agency or authority of the United States. " How far this structure of the Government of the United States is adequate and safe for its objects, time alone can absolutely determine. Experience seems to have shown that whatever may grow out of future stages of our national career, there is, as yet, a sufficient control, in the popular will, over the Executive and Legislative Departments of the government. When the Alien and Sedition Laws were passed in contravention to the opinions and feelings of the community, the first elections that ensued put an end to them. And whatever may have been the character of other acts, in the judgment of many of us, it is but true, that they have generally accorded with the views of a majority of the states and of the people. At the present day it seems well under- stood that the laws which have created the most dissatisfaction, have had a like sanction without doors; and that whether continued, varied, or repealed, a like proof will be given of the sympathy and responsibility of the representative body to the constituent body. Indeed, the great MADISON. 173 complaint now is against the results of this sympathy and responsibility in the legislative policy of the nation. " With respect to the judicial power of the United States, and the authority of the Supreme Court in relation to the boundary of jurisdiction between the Federal and State Governments, I may be permitted to refer lo the thirty-ninth number of the ' Federalist,'* for the light in which the subject was regarded by its writer, at the period when the Constitution was depending ; and it is believed that the same was the prevailing view then taken of it, that the same view has continued to prevail, and that it does so at this time, notwithstanding the eminent exceptions to it. " But it is perfectly consistent with the concession of this power to the Supreme Court, in cases falling within the course of its functions, to maintain that the power has not always been rightly exercised. To say notliing of the period, happily a short one, when judges in their seats did not abstain from intemperate and party harangues, equally at vari- ance with their duty and their dignity ; there have been occasional decisions from the bench, which have incurred serious and extensive disapprobation. Still it would seem that, with but few exceptions, the course of the Judiciary has been hitherto sustained by the predominant sense of the nation. " Those who have denied or doubted the supremacy of the judicial power of the United States, and denounce at the same time a nullifying power in a state, seem not to have sufficiently adverted to the utter inefficiency of a supremacy in a law of the land, without a supremacy in the exposition and execution of the law ; nor to the destruction of all equipoise between the Federal Government and the State Govern- ments, if, whilst the functionaries of the Federal Government are directly or indirectly elected by and responsible to the states, and the functiona- ries of the states are in their appointment and responsibility wholly inde- pendent of the United States, no constitutional control of any sort belong to the United States over the states. Under such an organiza- tion it is evident that it would be in the power of the states, individually, to pass unauthorized laws, and to carry them into complete effi3ct, any thing in the Constitution and Laws of the United States to the contrary notwithstanding. This would l)e a nullifying powder in its plenary charac- ter ; and whether it had its final elTect, through the Legislative, Executive, or Judiciary organ of the state, would be equally fatal to the constituted relation between the two governments. " Should the provisions of the Constitution, as here reviewed, be found * No. 39. 'It is true, that in controversies relating to the boundary between the two jurisdictions, the tribunal wlvich is ultimately to decide, is to be established under the General Government. But this does not change tlie principle of the case. The decision is to be impartially made, according to the rules of the Constitution ; and all the usual and most eliectual precautions are taken to secr.re this impartiality. Some such tribunal is clearly essential to prevent an appeal to the sword, and a dissolution of the compact ; and that it ought to be established under the general, rather than under the local, governments ; or, to speak more properly, that it could be safely established under the first alone, is a position not likely to be combated.' 174 MADISON. not to secure the government and rights of tlie states against usurpations and abuses on the part of the Unitod States, the final resort within the purview of the Constitution, lies in an amendment of the Constitution, according to a process apj)iicahle hy tlie states. " And in the event of a failure of every constitutional resort, and an accumulation of usur])alions and abuses, rendering passive obedience and non-resistance a greater evil than resistance and revolution, there can remain but one resort, the last of all — an appeal from the cancelled obligations of the constitutional compact, to original rights and the law of seIl-j)refiervation. This is the ultima ratio urukir all governments, whether consolidated, confederated, or a compound of both ; ami it can- not be doubted, tliat a single member of the Union, in the extremity sup- posed, but in that only, would have a right, as an extra and ultra-constitu- tional rigiit, to make the a])peal. " This brings us to the expedient lately advanced, which claims for a single state a right to appeal against an exercise of j)ovver by the govern- ment of I he United States decided by the states to be unconstitutional, to the parties to the constitutional compact ; tlie decision of the state to have the effect of nullifying the act of the Government of the United States, unless the decision of the state be reversed by three fourths of the parties. " The distinguished names and high authorities which appear to have asserted and given a y)ractical scope to this doctrine, entitle it to a respect which it might be diilicult otherwise to feel (or it. " If the doctrine were to be understood as requiring the three fourths of the states to sustain, instead of that proportion to reverse, the decision of tlie apijoaling state, the decision to be witliout effect during the ap])eal, it would be sudicient to reiiuirk, that tiiis extra-constitutional course might well give way to that marked out by the Constitution, which authorizes two thirds of the states to institute, and three fourths to effec- tuate, an ametuhnent of the Constitution, establishing a permanent rule of the highest authority, in place of an irregular precedent of construc- tion ordy. " JJut it is understood that the nidlifying doctrine imports that the deci- sion of the state is to be presumed valiir iron grasp, and the plumes and the banners of uncoiKpuired h^gions had been trailed in tlie dust. The rulers, who had im|)arted such strength to that hand, and who had rejoiced to see; the scathing aiiel ele;se»hition which fblloweel that Bword, little dreamed that it would soon be seen in the very capitol of their nipublic; and, in a short time, be cast aside to give- place to the MONROE. 185 rod and to tlie sceptre. The world had belield a soldier, disthiguished for skill and prowess in arms; a successful general, crowned with the laurels of tlfty battles ; a First Consul, a Dictator, and at last an Emperor and a King, in one man, whose name was Napoleon Buonaparte. And how had the nations of Europe home the blaze of this splendid luminary ? In the glowing eloquence of Fisher Ames, " they seemed to have been destined like comets to a contact with the sun ; not to thrust him from his orb, but to supply his waste of elemental fire." Americans, till now, had witnessed the progress of this wonderful meteor from afar ; but what must have been the terror and anxiety, in learning that, through the miserable imbecility of Spain, it was to be brought fearfully near to their own country. In the year 1800, Spain, in the treaty of St. Ildefonso, had secretly ceded Louisiana to France ; but, though in reality concluded in that year, it was not promulgated till ISO'i. The greatest consternation followed the bold disclosure of this treaty ; and nothing less than a war with France was anticipated. The plan to take possession of this ceded territory was as magnificent as the other projects of its devisor ; for, doubtless, with the intention of recovering all tlieir old dominions, from New Orleans to Canada, twenty thousand veterans were banded and ready to set sail for Louisiana, when the current of events suddenly took a new direction, and caused Buonaparte to relinquish his premedi- tated crusade against tlie United States. On the eleventh of January, 1803, Mr. Monroe was appointed Envoy Extraordinary, and joined with that eminent patriot, Robert R. Living- ston, then Resident Alinister Plenipotentiary, from the United States, in France, in the Conunission Extraordinary, to negotiate a purchase of the island of New Orleans, and the Spanish territory east of the Missis- sippi. He was also appointed, jointly, with Charles Pinckney, then Minister Plenipotentiary of the United States at Madrid, to an Ivxtraor- dinary Mission, to negotiate, if necessary, the samepurcliase with Spain, who still held possession of Louisiana. Several months before Mr. Monroe's arrival in Paris, Mr. Livingston had presented to the French government, " a very able memorial, sliew- ing, by conclusive arguments, that the cession of the province to the United States would be a measure of wise and sound policy ; conducive not less to the true interests of France, than to those of the Federal Union." It did not, however, suit the stupendous views of the Emperor, to listen at that time to any such proposition : but Mr. Monroe had Jiardly arrived, before his Imperial Majesty discovered that the large sum of money, which he might obtain for the province, would be extremely con- venient in the war which he had just excited between France and Great Britain. The sum which he proposed was lathor astounding, but the American Ministers, although it surpassed their powers, and their availa- ble funds, hesitated not to promise to pay the French government lifteen millions of dollars, for the territory of Louisiana. The iuunense benefits resulting to the Union, from the annexation of this extensive and beau- tiful territory, cannot be duly appreciated, unless we contrast the real with the probable condition of the Federal Union, had such an annexation 24 186 MONROE. never been made. If the French had been allowed to take peaceful possession of the banks of the Mississippi, and to become masters of the outlets of the Gulf of Mexico, we should soon have lost all the blessings of our neutrality. With the English, who are in possession of the northern lakes, and of the St. Lawrence, they would have waged harass- ing and perpetual warfare. We should have been enclosed on all sides, e.Kcept that of the Atlantic Ocean, (and ])erhaps even there by the oppos- ing navies,) by two of the most powerful nations of Europe, deadly hostile to each other. With one or the other we must have been allied : our national existence would have been constantly endangered ; and, con* fined within our original limits, we should liavc seen the rich valleys of the west desolated by that enmity, which had destroyed towns and villages in Europe ; instead of beholding, as we now behold, our empire extended over the Rocky Mountains, and stretching from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, perpetuated and blest under the glorious advantages of peace and civilization. After this most important treaty had been ratified, and an adjustment of certain claims of American citizens upon France had been made, in a convention, which was held at Paris, in April, 1803, Mr. Monroe, in the same month, proceeded to England, where he was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary, to succeed Rufus King ; who, after having fiiithfully discharged his mission for seven years, was, at his own request, returning to his own country. With the revival of the war with France, England betran anew to exercise tho.se odious impressments and unprovoked out- rages upon the persons and vessels of neutral powers, which, prior to the treaty concluded by Mr. Jay, had brought us to the verge of war : but Avhich had not been exercised since that time. It seems to us that the measures proposed by President Jefferson to obtain from the British government a convention for the protection of our scnmen, and for the observance of neutral rights, were both feeble and impolitic. Our Minis- ter should not have been instructed to solicit what lie had the right most imperiously to demand, viz. a total cessation of the rapine and plunder, committed on our ships, and a full remuneration for the wrongs which had already been inflicted. If such a peaceful remedy had been extended to the British Minister in one hand, with a declaration of war in the other, it is highly probable that, harassed as he was with the new French war, the former would have been accepted. The convention having failed, in which the British government abandoned the right to impress seamen, by a captious exception for the narrow seas, made by the head of the admiralty, Mr. Monroe, in the same conciliatory spirit with Mr. King, was endeavoring to adjust these difficulties, when he was summoned to discharge his extraordinary mission to Spain. When Buonaparte ceded Louisiana to this country, he took care to use in his grant to us, the very words in which it had been conveyed to him by Spain. lie was not particular to have the exact boundaries spe- cified by Spain ; but intended to set his own landmarks wherever he pleased. But, when Louisiana passed from his possession, he very con- veniently forgot that he intended to comprehend all the country, from the Perdido east, to the Rio Bravo west, of the Mississippi ; but discovered MONROE. 187 that West Florida formed no part of the ceded territory ; tliat the district of Mobile was not to be included ; and agreed with Spain in reducing the province of Louisiana to little more than the island of New Orleans. For the purpose of settling this disputed question of boundnry, and to purchase the remnant of Spain's title to the territory of Florida, Mr. Monroe was called upon to join Mr. Charles Pinckney at Madrid. On his way thither he remained at Paris a short time to remind the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Talleyrand, of a prouiise, which had been made at the time of the cession of Louisiana, that France would exert her influ- ence with Spain in a negotiation for the acquisition of Florida by the United States. The answer from that ever-changing Miuister was not satisfactory : and after having seen the self-anointed Emperor place with his own hands upon his o\vn brows the imperial diadem of France, in the presence of the venerable Roman Pontiff, and surrounded by the congregated magnificence of the European courts, Mr. Monroe proceeded to Madrid. Here he remained, with his colleague, Mr. Pinckney, for the space of five months, and made constant and vigorous, but unavailing efforts, to establish the claims of his country. The state papers, which passed at this stage of our controversy with Spain, and which, after having for many years been buried in thie archives of government, were at last |)ublislicd at Washington, arc ranked by a writer, who is emi- nently (|ualitied to judge, in the highest order; and concerning tliem he remarks that " they deserve the close and scrutinizing attention of every American statesman, and will remain solid, however unornamented, monuments of intellectual power, applied to national claims of riglit, in the land of our fatliers and the age wliich has now passed away." In the mean while, affairs in Great Britain had assumed such a menac- ing aspect towards this country, that Mr. Monroe, on his return thither, in June, 1805, had to contend with great difficulties. Mr. Pitt was at the head of the British government ; and pursued the interested and base policy of destroying the commerce of neutrals with France and Spain, to compel its enemies to traflic with tlie subjects of Great Britain. To effect this, the British cruisers seized many of^ our vessels, and pro- cured their condemnation in the courts of admiralty. There seems to be no excuse for this gross violation of the law of nations. During the space of two years, the commerce and navigation of this country had been unmolested, and, upon the rekindling of war in Europe, were still pursuing their course of success, never suspecting that their right to trade witli neutral ports would be disputed, when suddenly our enterpris- ing mariners were astonished at the seizure and confiscation of their ships and cargoes by the British. Mr. Monroe, upon being informed of these acts of injustice, remonstrated witii the Earl of Mulgrave, then Minister for Foreign Affairs, l)ut received only an equivocal answer. The death of Mr. Pitt, which happened at this time, brought in a new minis- try, at the head of which was Charles James Fox. This liberal and higli-minded, but prejudiced man, instantly countermanded the order for the capture of neutral vessels, and released those which had already been captured, but could not make any compensation to the owners of those vessels wliich had been detained and condemned by Sir William 1 88 UO N ROE. Scott.* When these facts became known in this country, the excite- ment was ahnost terrific. War ! War ! War ! was the cry. Petition upon petition, complaint upon complaint, remonstrance after remon- strance, were presented to Congress by plundered merchants and ruined ship-owners. To still the dark and angry waters of commotion, and to obtain some redress for such flagrant injuries, Mr. William Pinckney, the most eloquent orator in the United States, was sent as JNIinister Plenipo- tentiary and Extraordinary to join Mr. Monroe in London. On Mr. Pinckney's arrival, negotiations were immediately commenced, and a treaty was made, by which, with proper modifications on our part, peace and harmony might have been restored ; but upon its transmission to President Jefferson, he reviewed and returned it with the design that some securer provisions might be added with regard to the impressm.ent of seamen. But the British Ministry had undergone another change. George Canning had succeeded to Fox as Prime Minister, and, with his daring and unyielding temper, refused to negotiate further on the ratifi- cation of the treaty; the mission therefore of Monroe and Pickney was at an end. The former, had some time previous obtained permission to return home. After having suffered some short detention in consequence of the unparalleled outrage of Admiral Berkley on the Chesapeake, he returned at the close of the year 1807. From this period ]\Ir. jNIonroe never went abroad ; but was employed till the expiration of his Presidential term, in offices of the highest im- portance and trust in his own country. In the cursory view which we have taken of the incidents of his event- ful life, we have thus far beheld him, first appear upon the stage of public action, as a private soldier, fighting the battles of freedom and wounded in her cause ; following the glorious leader of the revolutionary armies through disheartening misfortunes and elevating success, and, after con- tinuing for a time to serve in the staff of a valiant general, still volun- teering to repel the invaders of his native land. We have next beheld him, while resolutely pursuing the study of the laws, under the direction of the illustrious Jefferson, appointed a military commissioner to the south- ern army ; then upon his return home elected to the legislature of Virginia, and to the Congress of the United States ; then a member of that celebrated convention of his native state, which met to deliberate upon the Federal Constitution ; and then chosen a Senator of the United States. We have next beheld the commencement of his diplomatic career as Minister Plenipotentiary to France under the administration of President Washington. By his conscientious and sincere, though impolitic and unadvised, conduct in the discharge of the duties of this mission, having given such displeasure to the general government as to produce his recall, we have seen him, once more in his native state, elected to the legislature, and then to the exalted office of Governor of *In what treatise of interaational law, Sir W. Scott found precedents for his equita- ble adjudications, it remains for the curious to investigate ; but the British government has been wonderfully successful, with the stubborn exception of Lord Coke and some others, in pouring light into the minds of its learned and incorruptible judges. MONROE. 189 Virginia, in the full enjoyment of the unimpaired confidence and high respect of his fellow-citizens. After the expiration of his constitutional term as governor, we have witnessed, in 1S03, his appointment by Mr. Jefferson, as Minister Plenipotentiary and Extraordinary, both to France and Spain, and shortly afterwards to Great Britain ; and, during his four years' residence in these countries, his employment in the most interest- ing and important diplomatic negotiations, in which the United States had been engaged since the revolution. We are now to regard him again receiving the highest honors of Vir- ginia, and about to enter upon a loftier and broader field of action. We have mentioned his return home in 1807. For a few months, he was permitted to rest from his labor, and to enjoy that quiet happiness, which always blooms under the shade of private, domestic tranquillity. He was now forty-eight years of age, — that period when the intellect has arrived at its noblest strength and perfect stature, and when, aided by wisdom and long experience, it becomes able to exert its powers, with the greatest effect, to enter upon magnificent enterprises, and to overthrow, as with the arm of a giant, the obstacles which may arise in its path. With a consciousness of having f^iithfully performed the tasks which had been allotted to him, and surrounded by all those home-blessings, which give a value to existence — an affectionate wife and beloved children — Mr. Monroe was enjoying that otiuni cum dignitatc, which is so delight- ful to a great mind after great exertions, when he was once more sum- moned to appear in the legislative chambers of his own Virginia ; and was again re-elected to the executive chair. ]\Ir. Monroe acted as go- vernor one more term, and in the spring of 1811, he was appointed by President Madison, Secretary of State. But, before entering upon the consideration of his faithful performance of the duties of the high offices, to which he was successively elevated, let us pause to consider the condi- tion of these United States at this eventful period. The war, which soon broke out between Great Britain and this coun- try, was resting, like a dark cloud, over the brightest prospects of the land. British depredations upon American commerce had been continued to such an extent, and our demands for reparation and restitution had been so unheeded, that to have tamely submitted in silence would have been the height of pusillanimity. There were many different opinions, however, about the expediency of declaring war ; and many distracting dissensions took place, which have not been healed even at this distance of time. The voice of one part of the country was heard shouting, in angry accents, for war, instant and desolating war — while the thoughts of another part were turned on the consideration of some method of proce- dure, by which we could still enjoy the blessings of peace. It was indeed an awful and an important crisis. The Federal Constitution, though nearly established in the affections of the people, by its excellent adaptation to the state of their country, and to the perpetuity of the union, had never be- fore been subjected to the ordeal of a formidable foreign war. It was now to undergo this test : and great indeed must have been the weight of the responsibility, which was thrown upon those, who were intrusted with the protection of this sacred charter of American rights^ and who 190 MONROE. were to conduct the vessel of state, in safety, through the many rocks and quicksands by which she was surrounded. Yet, with the star banner of liberty nailed to her mast, and by the guidance of the sacred charter of the constitution, that noble ship was at last skilfully and manfully rescued from her threatening dangers, and even rode proudly on the top of the wave, with every rag of her canvas given to the gale. Mr. Monroe came on board just before the vessel plunged into the midst of her perils. As he had been among the first of those gallant men, who joined the army of the revolution, when disasters and difficulties frowned on every side ; so was he called to the councils of government when they were harassed and distracted by the impending necessity of a second war, which it was in vain to attempt to avoid, and which, though not so hope- less as that of the revolution, wanted the spirit and unanimity which inspired our first great contest, for its prosecution and support. Appointed Secretary of State by President Madison, in the spring of 1811, Mr. Monroe discharged the high duties of that important station in the cabinet with zeal and fidelity. In the ensuing year, on the nineteenth of June, war was publicly proclaimed against Great Britain. A few days previous, the President laid before Congress the correspondence which had been carried on between Mr. Monroe, as Secretary of State, and the Ministry of Great Britain. These letters plainly demonstrated the im- possibility of effecting an adjustment concerning the two principal points of contention — the orders in council, and the subject of impressment. We have already alluded to the differing opinions which prevailed in the country concerning the war. On the issuing of the proclamation of the nineteenth of June, it was received with any thing but demonstrations of joy in the New England States. Indeed, the opposition of this section of the union was strenuously persevered in, till the perpetration of shame- ful outrages by the British troops, and more particularly the disgraceful capture of Washington, kindled the blaze of vindictive resentment in every bosom, and created a unanimity of sentiment in favor of active hostilities, which caused the war to be prosecuted with vigor, and finally terminated with success. As this subject has been fully treated in our life of President Madison, and as the events of this war, previous to the sacking of Washington, were not directly connected with Mr. Monroe's part in the administration, we shall make no further ihention of them. After this melancholy event, which at first exasperated the feelings of the people against the government, and afterwards so drew down the whole weight of popular indignation on the Secretary of War, as to cause his voluntary resignation, the history of Mr. Monroe, until the end of the war, becomes intimately involved with its important circumstances. At the request of Mr. Madison, without resigning his office as Secretary of State, he discharged all the duties of the War Department ; and with such effectual vigilance and judicious foresight, as to give general satisfaction, and produce the most fortunate results. Indeed, a great politician has hazarded the conjecture, that had his appointment to the Department of War preceded, by six months, its actual date, the heaviest disaster of the war — heaviest, because its remembrance must be coupled with a blush of shame — would have been spared, as a blotted page, in the annals of our union. MONROE. 191 This disaster, to wit, the conflagration of Washington, was heralded by a letter from the British Admiral Cochrane to the Secretary of State, dated the day previotis to debarkation, though not delivered until subse- quent to the literal fulfilment of his barbarous commands ; stating, that, "having been called upon by the Governor-General of the Canadas, to aid him in carrying into effect measures of retaliation against the inhabitants of the United States, for the wanton destruction committed by the army in Upper Canada, it became imperiously his duty, conformably with the notice of the Governor-General's application, to issue to the naval force under his command, an order to destroy and lay waste such towns and districts upon the coast, as might be found assailable." To these accusations, so grossly false, the Secretary of State could only reply, in the simple language of truth, that " in no instance had the United States authorized a deviation Irom the known usages of war : that, in the few cases in which there had been even a charge against them, the government had formally disavowed the acts of its officers, at the same time subjecting the conduct of such officers to punishment or reproba- tion : that amongst those few, the charge of burning the parliament-house in Upper Canada was now, for the first time, brought forward : until now, such uu accusation had not been made against the Americans ; on the contrary, one of the most respectable civil functionaries, at that place, had addressed a letter of thanks to General Dearborn, for the good conduct of his troops; and, moreover, that when Sir George Prevost, six months afterwards, proceeded to measures of retaliation, the affair of the brick house was not mentioned.' But though Admiral Cochrane succeeded in overcoming the feeble force with which the capital of the country was ineffectually guarded, and in spreading desolation among splendid mansions, both public and private, to revenge the enormous crime of which the American army had been guilty in burning a brick house, hired for the temporary occupation of the provincial legislature, the measures of retaliation adopted by the British were not so successful upon other places which they invaded. The plan of operations necessary for defence, pursued by the Department of War, was far more vigorous and effective ; and the invading armies, both on the water and on the land, met with such a determined resist- ance and total defeat at Baltimore, as to cool their retaliatory vengeance, and to spread a glow of joy over the whole country. The victory at Plattsburgh soon followed, to reanimate and excite to nobler exertion the spirit of every American citizen. The duties which Mr. Monroe had to perform, at this time, were extremely difficult and arduous. Being appointed Secretary of War, towards the close of the cam.paign of 1814, his first care was to mark out a general plan of military operations for the ensuing year. Louisiana was threatened with a formidable invasion. The war in which Great Britain had been engaged with the conqueror of Europe had been crowned with the most brilliant success. During the commencement of our war, the strength of her armies was concentrated against Napoleon ; but at this period " her numerous victorious veteran legions, flushed with the glory, and stung with the ambition, of long-contested, hard-earned success, were 192 MONROE. turned back upon her hands, without occupation for their enterprise, eager for new fields of battle, and new rewards of achievement." From these veterans ten thousand were selected, and having been placed under the command of an approved and brave oflicer, whose subsequent untimely fate all parties lamented, they were sent to attack New Orleans, and to acquire possession of the shores and waters of the Mississippi. To meet this emergency, and to raise the necessary funds for the defence of New Orleans, and for the repulsion of these dreaded invaders, became the task of James Monroe. From the peculiar circumstances of the times, this task was difficult in the extreme. The state of our financial concerns was deplorable. There had al- ways been a deficiency of funds for the vigorous prosecution of the war, and the national credit had been progressively degraded. When the war began, the rivalry of opposing interests and political prejudice had pre- vented the renewal of the charter of the first bank of the United States, and the most dismal consequences ensued. The public credit was almost ruined, and the currency of the country fallen into frightful disorder. "Banks with fictitious capital," says an able financier, "swarmed throughout the land, and spunged the purse of the people, often for the use of their own money, with more than usurious extortion. The solid banks were unable to maintain their integrity, only by contracting their operations to an extent ruinous to their debtors and to themselves. A balance of trade, operating like universal fraud, vitiated the channels of intercourse between north and south ; and the treasury of the union was replenished only with millions of silken tatters, and unavailable funds ; chartered corporations, bankrupt, under the gentle name of suspended , specie payments, and without a dollar of capital to pay their debts, sold, at enormous discounts, the very evidence of those debts ; and passed off upon the government of the country, at par, their rags, purchasable, in open market, at depreciations of thirty and forty per cent." At this period when, from the low state of the national credit, and from the exhausted condition of the treasury, it was impossible to raise funds to meet the pressing necessity of the preparations for the defence of New Orleans, then it was that the subject of this memoir, with a noble gene- rosity of soul and a patriotic devotedness to the cause of his country, which was worthy of the brightest epoch of Grecian renown, performed an act, which, if it stood solitary and alone, should embalm his name in the grateful remembrance of every votary of freedom. As subsidiary to the credit of the nation, he pledged his own individual credit. It is to be deeply regretted, as we shall soon have occasion to show, that the conduct of our Congress, after Mr. Monroe's retirement into private life, v.'as such as to strengthen the impression, which has long and falsely prevailed, and which the friends of arbitrary power have endeavor- ed to keep alive, concerning the ingratitude of republics. In making so great a person