Class E VJC? Book, I eOFlSICIfl' DEPOSUC / W iHr rr r^ -fAf^.^' J -_--^ J www ir®:si^, 27 BEEKMAH .STREET y. \j c s'LsvJr^ ' LIVES AND PORTRAITS ^PRESIDENTS OP TnK UNITED STATES, Jfr0m liasl]tiigt0n k (imnt. THE BIOGRAPHIE S^^J^:^^'^'- BY EVERT A. DUYCKINCK, Author of the ^^ History of the War for the Union,'" " Cyclopedia of American Literature," etc. THE PORTRAITS, BY ALONZO CHAPPEL, From Original Likenesses obtained from the most Authentic Sources. TO WHICH IS ADDED THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES; WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS; FAC-SIillLE OP THE ORIGINAL DOCUJIENT OP THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE AND NAMES OF THE SIGNERS, ETC.. ETC. aT, ■ NEW YORK: d • JOHNSON, WILSON AND COMPANY, 27 BEEKMAN STREET. Entered according to Act of Concrcss, in the year 1873, liy JOHNSON, WILSON AND COMPANY, lu the Offlco of tbc Librarian of Congress, nt Washington, D. C. CONTENTS. « I ■ I > • FAOE L — GEORGE WASHINGTON 7 II. —JOHN ADAMS S5 III. — TUOMAS JEFFERSON 45 IV. —JAMES MADISON 63 V. — J A5IE3 MONROE "i 1 VI. —JOHN QUINCY ADAMS SI YII. —ANDREW JACKSON «2 VIII. —MARTIN VAN BUREN 120 IX —WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON 130 X. —JOHN TYLER 1^<^ XL —JAMES KNOX POLK l-»'7 XII. — ZACHARY TAYLOR 163 XIII. —MILLARD FILLMORE 169 XIV. — FRANKUN PIERCE "5 XV. —JAMES BUCHANAN 182 XVL —ABRAHAM LINCOLN 191 XVIL — ANDREW JOHNSON 203 XVIII.— ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT 209 PREFACE. ■ The narratives of the Lives of the Presidents of the United States will ever afford an interesting and profitable subject of study ; and this not merely from their elevated position ranking them as rulers with contemporaiy kings, emperors, and others in chief authority ; but, as representatives of a distinct and peculiar social and political organization. The hereditary sovereigns of Europe, succeeding one another by a fixed and absolute decree ; educated for their posi- tion and following, for the most part, through life a uniform routine of etiquette and State policy, are spoken of in relation to families and dynasties ; nor do they always represent the nationality of the countries over which they rule. They may be, as in the case of the Hanover line in England, taken fi'om a foreign country, or as in Greece of the present day, chosen from other countries in obedi- ence to a real or supposed political necessity of European State craft. They may be weak or able, virtuous or vicious, according to their cajiacity or individual tendencies, vdthout the nation over which they rule being particularly honored in the one case or held responsible in the other. Not so in the United States. Here the Chief Magistrate, as it is oui* glory to call the presiding officer at the head of our system of government, being chosen by the people at short intervals, the nation becomes directly responsible for his intelligence and virtue. The pre- judices of party, the accidents of political intrigue, occasional deference to what is termed expediency, may, indeed, direct the election so that the successful candi- date may fall short, as a representative man, of the character of the people in its highest and best development. It is by no means to be expected that the best adapted or qualified man will be chosen every four years to the Presidency. In all human affairs it frequently happens that the right man is not in the right place. But generally speaking, making due allowance for inevitable exceptions the country may be rightfully judged by the character of the man deliberately chosen by the people to the post of highest authority. If, for instance, an avowed iv! PREFACE. iiifiJel, or n corrupt man in morals, or one dishonest, wanting integrity in the every-day aft'airs of life, were to be elected, the nation would be directly humili- ated. It would be held up to reproach, and deservedly so, throughout Christen- dom. If, on the contrary, the list of Presidents shall continue to show men of sound raond character and a high average of intellect, the country 'will be honored in its representatives. How much, for instance, at the start was done for us as a people by the choice of Washington as our. great leader, " First in War, First in Peace, and First in the hearts of his countrymen." The nation, after more than half a century since his death, may be said, in a measure, to be living on his virtues.. He, more than any other hero, " without fear or reproach," by the purity of his life and the devotion of his whole nature to public affairs, raised the land at once to a " respectable " position, as he was accustomed modestly to say, among the nations of the world. Ilis example has reacted upon the people whom he was called to represent, and doubtless on innumerable occasions has brightened the flame of patriotism and public ^■iI•tue. Every statesman, and especially every President, must feel himself called upon to follow and privileged in foUoAving in his footsteps. Nor does the example of Washington stand alone in oui' review of the Presi- dents. Tlie Adamses occupy a lofty position in our national history, in theii- pri- vate vii'tues, their devoted patriotism, and independence of character. In Jeffer- son the nation had not only a ruler of consiimmate ability, but a student and philosopher, and a controlling mind among the gieat men of his centurj'. The great name of Madison is identified with the foundation of our liberties in the origin and adoption of the Constitution. The strength and manliness of Jackson, equally illustrated in military and political life, have left their example to invigor- ate the national policy of our own times. The fame of Lincoln, consecrated by mart}Tdom, will be transmitted to posterity with an enduring lesson of public virtues, patriotic devotion, heartfelt love of liberty and magnanimity in the exer- cise of power. Others on the brief list have their high and enduring claims to respect. They have not been all of equal eminence, but this could hardly be ex- pected. What was to be demanded and what has l)een rendei-ed was a tair shai-e of intelligence mth a fair share of virtue. In the ensuing pages the lives of the eighteen incumbents who, up to this time have held the Presidency, are narrated. As a simple record of biogiaphy, the story is interesting in its variety of personal details. As an incentive to patriot- ism in a period more than ever since the days of Washington requiring the devo- tion of the citizen, we trust that it is not ^vithout its useful lesson. GEORGE WASHINGTON. "Washington iKViNa commences liis life of George Washino-ton witli a genealogical chapter ti-acing the anti- quity of liis family to tlie eleventli cen- tury. Though the transcendent merit of his hero little needs this blazonry, which, as he himself intimated on one occasion, his occupation in active busi- ness had given him no time to fen-et •out, yet it is not to be denied that it is quite in harmony with the character of Washington, that his family should be traced through an ancient and honor- able descent. He is placed in history as a connecting link between too great eras of civilization, and it is important to know that the goodly tree of his fair fame has its roots in the one, while it extends its widely spread, still growing branches into the other. He certainly would be less a representative man were his origin unkno^vn, or had he just arrived, a chance comer, to do his work of revolutionizing a nation. On the contrary, he was especially fitted for his great employment by the place of his birth, leaning fondly on the parent country as the Old Dominion, the estates and institutions by which he was surrounded, and the recollections of an elder time which these circum- stances implied. In supplying these traditions, Mr. Irving canies us back to the picturesque era of the early days of the Plantagenets, when the DeWessyng. tons did manorial service in the battle and the chase, to the military Bishop of Durham. Following these spirited scenes thi-ough the foiuieenth centm"y to the fifteenth, we have a glimpse of John de Wessyngton, a stout, contro- versial abbot attached to the cathedi'al. After him, we are called upon to trace the family in the various parts of Eng- land, and pai'ticularly in its branch of Washingtons — for so the spelling of the name had now become determined — at Sulgrave, in Northamptonshire. They were loyalists in the CromwelKan era, when Sir Henry gained renown by his defence of Worcester. While this event was quite recent, two brothers of the race, John and Lawrence, emigrated to Virginia in 1G57, and established them- selves as planters, in Westmoreland county, bordering on the Potomac and Rappahannock, in the midst of a dis- trict destined to produce many eminent men for the service of a State then undreamt of. One of these brothers, John, a colonel in the Virginia service, was the grandfather of Augustine, who married Maiy Ball, the belle of the county, and became the jiarent of George Washington. The family home was on Bridges' Creek, near the banks GEORGE WASHINGTON. of the Potomac, wliere, the oldest of six children l>y this second marriage of his father, the illnstrious subject of our sketch was horn on the twenty-second of Fol)niary, \'i?>2. Au'T'ustine Washinfcton was the o\ni- or of several estates in this region of the two rivers, to one of which, on the Rappahannock, in Stafford Coniity, he removed shortly after his son's hirth, and there the boy received his first im- pressions. He was not destined to lx> much indebted to schools or school-mas- ters. ITis father, indeed, was not in- sensible to the advan.tages of education, since, according to the custom of those days with wealthy plantei-s, he had sent LaAVi-ence, his oldest son by his previous marriage, to be educated in England ; an opportunity which was not given him in the case of George ; for before the boy was of an age to leave home on such a journey, the fiither was suddenly taken out of the world by an attack of gout. This event happened in April, 1743, when George was left to the guardianship of his mother. The honest merits of Mar}^, " the mother of "Washincrton," have often been matters of comment. All that is preserved of this lady, who survived her husband forty-six years, and of course lived to ■witness the matured triumphs of her son — he was seated in the Presidential chair when she died — ^bears witness to her good sense and simplicity, the plainness and sincerity of her house- hold virtues. The domestic instruction of Wash- ington was of the best and purest. He luul ])een early indoctrinated in the nidimjmts of learning, in tlio "field school," by a village pedagogue, named Hobby, one of his fatlicr's tenants, who joined to his afflictive calling the more melancholy profession of sexton — a shabby meral)er of the race of instruc- tors, Avho in his old age ke])t up the association by getting pati'iotically fud- dled on his puj)ils' birth-days. The l)oy could have learnt little there which was not better taught at home. Indeed we find his motlier inculcating the best precepts. In addition to the Scriptures and the lessons of the Church, which always form the most im])ortant part of such a child's education, she had a book of excellent wisdom, as the event proved, especially suitable for the guidance of her son's future life, in Sir Matthew Hale's "Contemplations, Moral and Divine " — a book written by one who had attained high public dis- tinction, and who tells the secret of his worth and success. The very volume out of which Washington was thus taught by his mother is preserved at Mount Vernon. He had, however, some limited school instruction with a INIr. Williams, whom he attended from his half brother, Augustine's, home, in West- moreland, and from whom he learnt a knowledge of accounts, in which he was always skilful. His cijihering book, neatly written out, may be seen among other relics of his early years, in the public archives at Washington. An- other juvenile note-book of this time, penned when he was thirteen, contains not only forius of business, as bonds, leases, and the like, but copies of verses and " Rules of Behavior in Company and Conversation," full of homely prac- tical wisdom of the Benjamin Franklin GEORGE WASHINGTON. pattern. Some lines on "True Happi- ness " recite, among otlier benefits, tliose of " A merry night without much drinking, A happy thought without much thinliing ; Each night by quick sleep made short, A will to be but what thou art." The " Rules," one hundred and ten in number, are plain, sensible maxims, ccrmmonplace enough, some of them, but not the less valuable ; minor moral- ities which add to the comfort as well as the greatness of life, form the gentle- man, and assist the Christian. Wash- ington, who was ever sedulously obser- vant of all matters of good conduct and high principle, may well be studied in this elementary exercise of his boy- ish days. He had early set his mind in these precepts upon kindness, for- bearance, self-denial, probity, the love of justice. The youth had also par- ticular instructions from Mr. Williams in geometry, trigonometry, and survey- ing, in which he became an adept, -wi'it- ing out his examples in the neatest and most careful manner. This was a branch of insti'uction more important to him than Latin and Greek, of which he was taught nothing, and one that he turned to account throuo;h life. All the school insti'uction which Washins;- ton received was thus completed before he was sixteen. Nor let it be supposed that these sober mathematical calculations con- stituted all the dreams of the boy. He had other \'lsions of a softer charac- ter in the charms of a certain lowland beauty, to whose memory some love-sick rhj-mes are left in his youthful note- books. It is worth mentioning, this tender susceptibility of one who was all tenderness within, while his grave public duties so long conscientiously re- quired him to present an ii'on front to the world. He had, however, to look to some practical work in the scant condition of his fortunes, and we find him early bent upon it. While he was yet at school, a proposition was entertained by himself and a portion of his family, which, if it had been carried out, might have seiiously affected the destinies of America. His brother, Lawrence, four- teen years his senior, had served a few years before with the West India fleet of Admiral Vernon, in the land force at the siege of Carthagena, and in honor of his commander, gave the name Mount Vernon to the estate on the Potomac which he inherited from his father. He was now man-ied to the daughter of a neighboring gentleman, William Fairfax, and in the enjoyment of his home had given up military life; but he thoucrht well of the foreiorn service, and prociu'ed a midshipman's warrant for his brother George, who, full of active vigor, with a boyish taste for war, eagerly desired the adventui'e. Little more is known of the affair, beyond his mother's earnest final inter- position—she had given her consent in the first instance — by which his majesty's navy lost an excellent re- cruit, and his majesty's dominions haK a continent, while the world gained a nation. On leaving school, young Washing- ton appears to have taken up his resi- dence with his brother at Moimt 10 GEORGE WASHINGTON. Vernon, where he was introduced to new social influences of a liberal character in the family society of the Fairfaxes. LaAVTence, as we liave seen, was mamed to a daughter of William Fau-fax, a gentleman of much experience and adventure about the world, who resided at his neighboring seat "Bel- voir," on the Potomac, and superin- tended, as agent, the large landed operations of his cousin. Lord Fairfax. These comprehended a huge territor}-, embracing the Northern Neck, and stretchintj over the mountains into what was then something of a frontier region, the valley of the Shenandoah. In this more remote spot resided the owner himself at Greenway Com-t, keeping up a rude state, and gratifying his love of the chase, for he had brought Avith him from Old England the tastes of a genuine fox-hunter. "Washington, though too young to appreciate the eccentric nobleman's varied experience, was ready to follow him in the hunt, and there was another source of sj-mpathy in the practical management of his vast territory. Sur- veys were to be made to keep posses- sion of the lands, and bring them into the market ; and who so well adapted for this service as the youth who had made the science an oliject of special study 1 We consequently find him re- gularly retained in this service. His journal, at the age of sixteen, remains to tell us of the duties and adventm-es of the journey, as he traversed the out- Ipng rough ways and passages of the South Branch of the Potomac. It is a short record of camp incidents and the progress of his surveys for a month in the ■wilderness, in the spring of 1748; the j)rclude, iu its introduction to Indians and the exposui'cs of camp life, to many rougher scenes of military service, stretching westward from the reirion. Three years were passed in expe- ditions of this nature, the young sur- veyor making his home in his intervals of duty mostly at ]\Ioimt Vernon. The health of his brother, the owner of this place, to whom he was much attached, was now failing with consumption, and George accompanied him in one of his toiu's for health in the autumn of 17. '51 to Barbadoes. As usual, he kept a journal of his observations — he Avas always diligent and exact in these records from a boy, so that of no one so illustrious in history have Ave a more perfect picture through life — which tells us of the eveiy-day living and hospitalities of the place, Avith a shrcAvd glance at its agricultiu-al re- sources and the conduct of its gover- nor. A fcAV lines cover nearly a month of the visit ; they record an attack of the smallpox, of Avhich his countenance always bore some faint traces. Lea\'- ing his brother, partially recruited, to pm-sue his Avay to Bermuda, George re- turned in February to Virginia. The health of LaAvrence, however, continued to decline, and in the ensuing supjmer he died at Mount Vernon. The estate Avas left to a daughter, Avho, dying in infancy, the property passed, according to the terms of the Avill, into the pos- session of George, Avho thus became the OAATier of his memorable home. Previous to this time, rumors of imminent French and Indian ag- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 11 gressions on the frontier began to engage the attention of the colony, and preparations were making to resist the threatened attack. The province was divided into districts for enlistment and organization of the militia, over one of which Washington was placed, with the rank of major, in 1751, when he was but nineteen — a mark of con- fidence sustained by his youthful studies and experience, but in which his family influence, doubtless, had its full share. We hear of his attention to military exercises at Mount Vernon, and of some special hints and instruc- tions from one Adjutant Ware, a Virginian, and a Dutchman, Jacob Van Braam, who gave him lessons in fenc- ing. Both of these worthies had been the military companions of Lawrence Washington in the West Indies. In 1753, the year following his brother's death, the aftaii's on the fron- tier becoming pressing. Governor Din- widdie stood in need of a resolute agent, to bear a message to the French commander on the Ohio, remonstratinir against the advancing occupation of the tenitory. It was a hazardous service crossing a rough, intervening mlder- ness, occupied by unfriendly Indians, and it was a high compliment to Wash- ington to select him for the duty. Amply provided with instructions, he left Williamsbui-g on the mission on the last day of October, and, by the middle of November, reached the ex- treme frontier settlement at Will's Creek. Thence, with his little party of eight, ho piu'sued his way to the fork of the Ohio, wliere, mth a military eye, he noted the ad vantageous position subsequently selected as the site of Fort Du Quesne, and now the flourish- ing city of Pittsburg. Pie then held a council of the Indians at Logsto^vn, and procured guides to the station of the French commandant, a hundred and twenty miles distant, in the vicinity of Lake Erie, which he reached on the 11th of December. An inter- view having been obtained, the mes- sage delivered and an answer received, the most hazardous part of the expe- dition yet lay before the party in their retm'n home. They were exj^osed to frozen streams, the winter inclemencies, the perils of the wilderness and Indian hostilities, when Indian hostilities were most cruel. To hasten his homeward jom-ney, Washington separated from the rest, with a single companion. His life was more than once in danger on the way, first from the bullet of an Indian, and during a night of extra- ordinaiy seventy, in crossing the violent Allegany river on a raft beset with ice. Escaping these disasters, he reached Williamsburg on the IGth January, and gave the interesting joui-nal now included in his writings as the report of his proceedings. It was at once published by the Governor, and was speedily reprinted in Loudon. The observations of Washington, and the reply which he brought, confirmed the growing impressions of the designs of the French, and militaiy prepara- tions were kept up with spiiit. A Virginia regiment of three hundred was raised for frontier service, and Washington was appointed its Lieu- tenant-Colonel. Advancing with a portion of the force of which he had 12 GEORGK WASniXOTON. command, ho learnt that the Fi'onch were in tho field, and had commenced hostilities. Watchful of their move- ments, he fell in with a ]iarty under Jumonville, in the neighl)orh()od of the Great Meadows, which he i)ut to lliglit ■with the death of their leader. His o^Ti superior oflieer having died on the niareh, tho enlire eoinniand fell upon Washington, who was also joined by some additional troops IVoiu South Carolina and New York. With these ho was on his way to attack Fort Du Quesne, when word was hronght of a large su])erior force of French and Indians coming against him. This intelligence led him, in his xmprepared state, to reti'ace his steps to Fort Neces- sity, at the Gre^it Meadows, where he received the attack. The fort was gal- lantly defended Loth within and Avith- out, Washington commanding in fi'ont, and it Avas not until serious loss had been inflicted on the assailants that it surrendered to superior nmubers. In the caiiitulation the garrison was alloweil to return home M'ith the honors of war. A second time the Legislature of Virginia thanked her retiu'ning officer. The militaiy career of Washington was now for a time iriteiTuiited by a question of etiquette. An order was issued in favor of the officers holding tho king's commission outranldng the provincial appointments. Washington, who knew the Avorth of his country- men, and the respect due himself, would not submit to this injustice, and the estate of Mount Vernon now requiring his attention, he withdrew from the jirmy to its rural occupations. He was not, however, suffered to remain there long in inactivity. The arrival of General Braddock, Avith his forces, in tho river, calh'd him into actiim at tho summons of that oHici-r, Avho was at- tracted l>y his exjK'rience and accom- plishments. Washington, anxious to serve his countiy, readily accepted an a]i]iointment as one of tho Genei'al's military family, the question of rank being thus dispensed with. lie joined the anny on its onward march at Win- chester, and proceeded Avith it, though he had been taken ill with a rairincr fever, to the Great Crossing of the Youghiogany. Here he was compelled to remain Avith the rear of the anny, by the positive injunctions of the General, from Avhom he exacted his " Avord of honor " that he " should l)e brought up before he reached the French fort." This he accomplished, though he was too ill to make the journey on horse- back, arriving at the mouth of the Youghiogany, in the immediate vicin- ity of the fjital battle-field, the evening before the entrajrement. In the CA'enta of that memorable ninth of July, IT.'iS, he Avas destined to bear a cons])icuou3 part. From tho beginning, he had been a pradent counsellor of the General on the march, and it Avas by his advice that some of its urgent difficulties had been overcome. He adAnsed pack- horses instead of baggage-Avagons, and a rii\nd advance Avith an unencumbered poi-tiou of the force before the enemy at Fort Du Quesne could gain strength ; but Braddock, a brave, conliilent officer of the Em-oj)ean school, resolutely ad- dicted to system, Avas uuAnlling or unable fiUly to cimy out the sugges- GEORGE WASnrNGTOX. 13 tions. Ilafl Washington hold the com- mand, it is l)ut little to say that he would not have Lcen cauglit in an ambuscade. It was his last advice, on arriving at the scene on the eve of the battle, that the Virginia Hangers should be employed as a scouting party, rather than the regular troops in the advance. The proposition was rejected The next day, though still feeble from his illness, Washinccton mounted his horse and took his station as aid to the Gene- ral It was a brilliant display, as the well-appointed army passed under the eye of its martinet commander on its way from the encampment, crossing and recrossing the Monongahela to- wards Fort Du Quesne — and the sol- dierly eye of Washington is said to have kindled at the sight. The march had continued from sum-ise till about two o'clock in the afternoon, when, as the advanced column was ascending a rising ground covered with trees, a fire was opened upon it from two concealed ravines on either side. Then was felt the want of American experience in fitrhtincT with the Indian. Braddock O O in vain sent forward his men. They would not, or could not, fight against a hidden foe, while they themselves were presented in open view to the marks- men. Washington recommended the Virginia example of seeking protection from the trees, but the General would not even then abandon his European tactics. The regulars stood in squads shooting their own companions before them. The result was an ovenvhelm- ing defeat, astounding when the rela- tive forces and equipment of the two parties is considered, Braddock, who, amidst all his faults, did not lack cour- aly impressed upon the mind of "Washington, the disohedleuoe, disorder and cowardice of the regular troops compai-ed -with the heroic fate of the Virginia companies. lie expresses himself in the stron£rest terms of this " d;u?tardly behavior of the regular troops, so called" in his correspondence at the time, and the experience, doubt- less, remained with him in after days of doubt and ditHculty when the con- viction was needed to sustain him against hostile hosts. The public attention of the province was now turned to Washington, as the best defender of the soil. His volun- tary service had expired, but he was etill engaged as adjutant, in directing the levies from his residence at Mount Venion, whence the Legislature soon called him to the chief command of the Vii-ginia forces. lie stipulated for thorough activity and discipline in the whole service, and accepted the office. The defence of the country, exjuised to the fierce severities of savage wai-fiu-e, was in his hands. lie set the posts in order, organized forces, rallied recraits, and appealed earnestly to the Assem- bly for vigorous means of relief. It was again a lesson for his after life when a greater foe was to be pressing our more extended frontiers under his care, and the reluctance or weakness of the Virginia Lt^gislaturo was to bo ri'jiroduced, in an exaggerated fi>nn, in the imbecility of Congress. We shall thus behold Washington, ever}"\vhere the patient chilil of experience, unwea- riedly conning his lesson, learning, from actual life, the statesman's know- ledge of man and aftaii-s. He was sent into this schoc)! of the world early, for he was yet but twenty-three, when this guardianshij) of the State was placed upon his shoulders. We find him again jealous of autho- rity in the interests of the service. A certain Ca])tain Dagwi>rth}', in a smjill command at Fort Cumberland, refused obedience to ordei-s, asserting his privi- lege as a royal oificer of the late cmu- paign, and the question was idtimately referred to General Shirley, the com- mander-in-chief at Boston. Thither Washington himself carried his apj)eal, making his journey on luirseT)ack in the midst of muter, and had his view of his superior authority confii'meiL A bit of romance also has been con- nected Avith this tour on pu\)lie busi- ness. At New Yttrk he was entertain- ed by a friend in Beverley llobinson, of a Virginia family, who had married one of the heiresses of the wealthy lando^vner of the II\ulson, Adolphus Philipse, the pu)priett)r of the manor of that name. Mrs. Kobinson had a sister equally wealthy with hei-self, young and beautiful, of whom it was said Washington, Avho was by no means insensible to female charms, and who had also a prudent regaid for fortune, became enamored. Indeed, his admiration, says Mi-. Irving, is " un historical fact." The stoiy is some- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 15 times added, that lie sought her hand and was rejected, but this the excellent authority just cited discredits as im- probable. Urgent public aifairs called the gallant officer to new struggles in the wilderness, and the lucky prize passed into the arms of a brother officer of Braddock's staff. Returning immediately to Virginia, Colonel "Washington continued his employment in active military duties, struggling not less with the inefficient Assembly at home, whom he tried to arouse, than with the enemy abroad. It was a tiying service, in which the commander, spite of every hardship which he freely encountered, was sure to meet the reproach of the suffering public. The disinterested conduct of Washington proved no exception to the rule. He even experienced the in- gratitude of harsh newspaper comments, and thousjht for the moment of resij?- nation ; but his friends, the noblest spirits in the colony, reassured him of their confidence, and he steadily went on. The arrival of Lord Loudoun, so pleasantly satirized by Franklin in his Autobiogi-aphy, as commander-in-chief of his majesty's forces, seemed to offer some opportunity for more active ope- rations, and Washington di'ew up a memorial of the affairs he had in charge for his instruction, and met him in conference at Philadelphia. Little, however, resulted from these negotia- tions for the relief of Virginia, and Washington, exhausted by his labors, was compelled to seek retirement at Mount Vernon, where he lay for some time prostrated by an atf,ack of fever. In the next spring, of 1758, he was enabled to resume his command. The Virginia troops took the field, joined to the forces of the British general, Forbes, and the year, after various dis- astrous movements, which miijht have been better directed had the counsels of Washington prevailed, was signal- ized by the capture of Fort Du Quesne. Washington, with his Virginians, tra- versed the ground whitened with the bones of his former comrades in Brad- dock's expedition, and ■svith his entry of the fort closed the French dominions on the Ohio, The war had taken another direction on the Canadian frontier in New York, and Virginia was left in repose. Shortly after this event, in January, 1759, Washington was married to IVIrs, Martha Custis, of the White House, county of New Kent. This lady, born in the same year with himself, and conse- quently in the full bloom of youthful womanhood, at twenty-seven, was the widow of a wealthy landed proprietor whose death had occui'red three years before. Her maiden name was Dan- dridge, and she was of Welsh descent. The pradence and gravity of her dis- position eminently fitted her to be the wife of Washington. She was her husband's sole executrix, and managed the complicated affair's of the estates which he had left, involving the raising of crops and sale of them in Europe, with ability. Her personal charms, too, in these days of her widowhood, are highly spoken of. The well-known portrait by Woolaston, painted at this period, presents a neat, animated figm'e, with regular features, dark chestnut hair, and hazel eyes, in a dress which, 16 GBORQE WASniNQTON. changed often iu tbo inten'iil, tbe whirligig of fashion has restored to the year in which we write, 1800. The story of the eonrtship is too character- ietic to be omitted. The first eight of the hidy, at least in lier widowhood, by the gallant Colonel, was on one of his military jourmyiiigs diu'ing tin; last canij)aign, just alluded to, of the old Fivneh war. lie was B])eediug to the Council at Williamslmrg, on a special message, to stir up aiil for the camp, when, ci'ossing tlie ferry over the Pam- uukey, a branch of York llixer, he was waylaid hy one of the residents of the region, who coraj)elled him, by the inexorable laws of old Virginia hospi- tality, to stoji lor dinner at his man- sion. The energetic officer, intent on despatch, was reluctant to yield a moment from his all'airs of sUite, but there was no esca]ie of such a guest from such a host. Within, he found Mrs. Custis, whose attractions recon- ciled oven Washington to delay. He not only stayed to dine, but he ])assed the night, a charmed guest, with his friendly entertainer. The lady's resi- dence, fortunatt'ly, was iu the neighbor- hood of AVilliamsburg, and a soldier's life rctpiiring a j)rom])t disposition of his opportunities, the Colonel, mindful, perhaps, of the loss of ]\Iiss Phil ipse imder similar circiuustances, pressed his suit with vigor, and secured the lady at once iu the midst of her suit- ors, lie corresponded with her con- stantly during the remainder of the campaign, and iu the month of Jan- uar}', IT/JO, the wedding took place with great 6clat, at the bride's estate at the White House. The honeymoon was the inauguration of a new and pacific era of Washington's hitherto troubled military life. Yet even this n'pose ])rov<'d the in- troduction to new j)iiblic duties. With a sense i>f the obligat)(ms befitting a Virginia gentU'Uian, Washingtcm had ollcrcd himself to the sufl'ragt's <.)f his fellow countrymen at AVinchester, and been elected a member of the House of Burgesses. Abt>ut the time of his marriage, lie took his seat, when an inciilcnt occurred which has been often narrated. The Speaker, l)y a vote of the House, having been dii'ccted to return thanks to him for his eminent military services, at once jieri'ormcd the duty -with warmth and eloipience. Washington rose to express his thanks, but, never voluble before the public became too embarrassed to utter a syl lable. "Sit do\\-n, Mr. AVashington," was the coxuteous relief of the gentle- man who had addressed him, " your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language I possess." He continued a member of the House, diligently attending to its business till he was called to the Avork of the Revolution, in this ^vay adding to his exi)criences in war, familiarity with the i^ractical duties of a legislator and statesman. He was constantly pre- sent at the debates, it l)eing " a maxim with him through life," as his biognv pher, Mr. Sj^arks, obsen'cs — and no one has traced his course more mimitely, or is better entitled to oiler the remark — " to execute punctually and thoroughly every charge which he undertt)ok. ' Duties like these from such a man wt;i-e a graceful addition to the j)lan- GEORGE WASHINGTON, 17 ter's life. After a shoit sojourn at his wife's estate, be carried her to the house at Mount Vernon, which now became a lioine. Two olilldren of his \v\fe, }>y her former maii'iage, a Ijoy and girl, six and four years old, accompanied her. " I ana now, I believe," wrote her husband, to a correspondent in Lon- don, " fixed at this seat witli an agree- able 2)artner fn* life, and I hope to find more happiness in retirement than I ever experienced amidst the wide and bustling world." The occupations and resources of his life at this period have been fondly detailed by his l^iographers from the numerous memoranda of his diaries, almanacs, and note-ljooks. The hum- blest proceedings of farm business and the daily management of liis affairs are uncovered before our eyes. "We may learn the cares and provision of negro labor on the plantation, and the need of watchfulness in the midst of abund- ance. " Would any one Ijelieve," says he in one of these records of 1768, " that with a hundred and one cows actually reported at a late enumeration of the cattle, I should still Ijc obliged to buy butter for my family?" The very items of his housekeeping and per- sonal apparel may be gathered from his orders to his London coiTespon- dents, for in the state of dependence in which the mother country then kept her colonies, it was necessary to procure a coat or a pair of shoes from London. Some of our finely dressed aristocratic aucestors must needs have gone in ill fitting garments. Certainly a fashion- able tailor of the present day would scarcely be able to supply an order, without great hazard to his reputation, from such a description as Washington sent of himself, as a man " six feet higli and proportionably made ; if anything rather slender for a person of tliat height." It was a convenient thing then to have a particular friend ^vith a foot of the same size as your own, as Washington had in Colonel Beiler, when he availed himself in liis direc- tions across the water of that gentle- man's last, only " a little wider over the instep." We may trace the parapher- nalia of the bride in these orders for Mi'S. Washington, in the year of their mar- riage — the " salmon-colored tabby," and the Binissels lace, and the very play- things for little Miss Martha — "a fashional>le dressed doll to cost a guinea," and another for i-ougher, week- day handling, to cost five shillings ; and there is the genteel attire for " Master Custis, eight years old," his " silver laced hat," " neat pumps," and " sil- ver shoe and knee buckles" — vanities moderated by the introduction of " a small Bible neatly bound in Turkey, and John Parlce Custis wrote in gilt letters on the inside of the cover," with a prayer book to match. Jlere, too, in the same familiar handwriting of Wash- ington, is an order for several busts for the decoration of the family mansion, now assuming proportions worthy the new alliance which had brought lands and money to its owner's fortunes — " one of Alexander the Great ; another of Julius Cajsar; another of Charles XIL, of Sweden, and a fourth, of the King of Pi-ussia." A good selection for a soldier "^vho had look(!d upon the realities of military life. We sliall by 18 GEORGE WASniXGTON. and by see that same King of Prussia, the great Freilcrick, sending a portrait of liinist'lf with the message, "From tlie oldest general in Europe to the greatest general in the world." The daily life of the gentleman plan- ter is all the while going on, the crops of wheat and tohacco getting in, which were to be embarked beneath his eye on the broad bosom of the Potomac on their voyage to England and the "West Indies. So well established was his repute as a producer, that a l)arrel of flour bearing his brand was ex- empted from inspection in the ports of the latter eountiy. Cordial hospi- tality was going on -within doors, and wholesome countiy sports without. He had hoimds for the fox hunt ; there were deer to be killed in his woods, abundant wild fowl on his meadows in the season and fisheries in the riv^n- at his feet : and that there mii^ht be no fjilling into rusticity, came the annual state visits, when he was accompanied by Mi-s. Washington, to the notalde picked society at the capitals, Williams- burg and Annajwlis. It was a hearty, generous life, fitted to breed manly thoughts .Ind good resolution against the coming time, when the share shall be again exchanged for the sword, and the humble argument of the vestry at the little church at Pohick, where good, ecdentric Parson Weems, incul- cated his moralities, for the louder con- troversy of national debate. In fine, look upon Washington at this or any other period of his life, we ever find him industrious, always useful ; his ac- tivity and influence radiating from the centre of domestic life, and his private virtue, to the largest interests of the world. Fifteen yeai"9 had been thus passed at ]\[ount Vernon, wlien tlic peace of in-ovincial life began to be rufllud ]>y a new agitation. France had formerly fur- nished the stirring theme of opposition and resistance when Anieiica poured out her Ijcst blood at the call of Biitish statesmen, and helped to restore the fall- ing greatness of England. That same Parliament "which had been so wonder- fully revived when America seconded the call of Chatham, Avas now to inflict &n insupportable wound upon her de- fenders. The seeds of the Revolution must be looked for in the previous war with France. There and tlien America became acquainted with her own pow- el's, and the strength and weakness of British soldiers and placemen. To no one had the lesson been better taujxht than to Washington. By no one was it studied -with more impartiality. There was no faction in his opposition. The traditions of his family, his friends, the provinces, were all in favoi* of allegi- ance to the British government. lie had nothing in his composition of the disorganizing mind of a mere political agitator, a breeder of discontent. The interests of his laige lauded estates, and a revenue dejiendent upon exports, bound him to the British nation. But there was one principle in his nature stronger in its influence than all these material ties — the love of justice; and when Patrick Henry rose in the House of Burgesses, with his eloquent assertion of the rights of the colony in the mat- ter of taxation, Washington was there in his seat to respond to the sentiment. GEORGE WASHINGTON. 19 To this memorable occasion, on tlie 29tli May, 17G5, has been referred the birtli of that patriotic fervor in the mind of Washington, Avelcoming as it was developed a new order of things, which never rested till the liberties of the country were established on the firmest foundations of independence and civil order. " His correspondence," says Irving, writing of this incident, " hitherto had not turned on political or specidative themes ; being engrossed by either militaiy or agricultural mat- ters, and evincing little anticipation of the vortex of public duties into which he was about to be di-awn. All hia previous conduct and -writings show a loyal devotion to the crown, with a patriotic- attachment to his country. It is probable that, on the present occa- sion, that latent patriotism received its first electric shock." Be this as it may, he was certainly from the beginning an earnest supporter of the constitutional liberties of his countiy, and met every fresh aggression of Parliament as it arose, in the most resolute manner. He took part in the local Virginia xeso- lutions, and on the meeting of the first Congress, in Philadelphia, went up to that honored Ijody with Patrick Heniy and Edmund Pendleton. He was at this time a firm, unyielding maintainer of the rights in controversy, and ftdly prepared for any issue Avhich might grow out of them ; but he was no revolutionist — for it was not in the nature of his mind to consider a demand for justice a provocative to war. Again, in Virginia, after the ad- journment of Congress, in the important Convention at Richmond, he listens to the imj^etuous eloquence of Patrick Ilemy. It was this body which set on foot a popular military organization in the colony, and Washington, who had previously given his aid to the indejiendent companies, was a member of the Committee to report the plan. A few days later, he Avrites to his brother, John Augustine, who was employed in training a company, that he would "very cheerfally accept the honor of commanding it, if occasion require it to be di-awn out." The second Continental Congress, of which Washington was also a member, met at Philadelphia in May, 1775, its members gathering to the deliberations with throljbing hearts, the musketry of Lexington ringing in their ears. The overtures of war by the British troops in Massachusetts had gathered a little provincial army about Boston ; a national organization was a measure no longer of choice, but of necessity. A Commander-in-Chief was to be ap- pointed, and though the selection was not altogether free from local jealousies, the sujierior merit of Washington was seconded by the superior patriotism of the Congress, and on the fifteenth of June he was unanimously elected by ballot to the high position. His modesty in accepting the ofiice was as noticeable as his fitness for it. He was not the man to flinch from any duty, because it was hazardous ; but it is worth kno-wing, that we may form a due estimate of his character, that he felt to the quick the full force of the sacrifices of ease and happiness that he was making, and the new difficulties he was inevitably to encouriter. He 20 GRORGE WASHINGTON. was so impressed ■with the probabilities of failure, and so liltlo disposed to vaunt his own j^owers, that he begged gentlemen in the House to reiiioinl>er, " lest some iinlueky event should hap- pen \mfavoral)le to his i-ejnitation," tliiit he thought himself, "with the utmost sineerity, uueipial to the com- mand he was honored with." AVitli a manly spirit of i)atriotic independence, worthy the highest eulogy, he declared his intention to keep an exact account of his puldic expenses, and aceej)t nothing more for his services — a reso- lution whiih was faithfully kept to the letter. ^Vith these disinterested pre- liminaries, he proceeded to Cambridge, and took command of the army on the third of July. Uunkcr Hill had been foucjht, establishiuL' the valor of the native militia, and the leaguer of Boston was already formed, though with ina(l(>([uate forces. There was ex- cellent individual material in the men, but evei'}'thing ^va^ to be done for their organizatit)n and equipment. Above all, there was an absolute want of powder. It was imjiossible to make any serious attemjit u])on the British in Boston, but the iitmost heroism was shoAvn in cutting oif their resources and hemming them in. Ilundde as were these inellicient means in the present, the prospect of the future was darkened by the short enlistments of the army, which were made only for the year. Congress expecting in that time a favorable answer to their second Petition to the King. The new re- cruits came in slowly, and means were feebly suiiplicd, but "Washington, bent ou action, determined upon an attack. For this ])urpose, he took ])ossession of and fortiiied Dorchester Ileiffhts, and l)repared to assail the town. The Biitish Avere making an attcmi^t to dis- lodge him, which was deferred by a storm ; and General Howe, having already resolved to evacuate the city, a few days after, on the lYth of I\[arch, ingloriously sailed away with his troops to Halifa.x. The next day, AVashington entered the toAvn in triumph. Thus ended the first epoch of his Revolution- ary campaigns. There had been littlo opiwrtunity for brilliant action, but gi'cat dilhculties had been overcome with a more honorable persistence, and a substantial benefit liad been gained. The full extent of the seivices of Wa.sh- ingtou became known only to his ])os- terity, since it was absolutely necessary at the time to conceal the difliculties under which he labored ; but the country saw and felt enough to extol his fame and award him an hone-st meed of gi-atitude. A special vote of Congress gave expression to the senti- ment, and a gold medal, bearing the head of Washington, and on the revei-se the legend ILkst ihu^ pri mo fugal is, was ordered by that body to commemorate the event. "We must now follow the commander rai)itlly to another scene of ojteratious, remembering that any detailed notice, liowever brief, of "W^ashington's niili- tary ojierations during the war, Avould expand this biographical sketch into a historical volinne. New Yt)rk was evi- dently to be the next object of attack, and thither AVashington gathered his forces, and made every available means of defence on land. By the beginning GEORGE WASniJVGTON. 21 of July, Avhen the Declaration of Inde- pendence was received in camp, Gene- ral Howe Lad made liis appearance in the lower bay fi'om Halifax, where he was sjieedily joined l)y his Itrother, Lord Howe, the admiral, who came bearing ineffectual projiositions for re- conciliation. Having occasion to ad- dress the American Commander-in- Chief, he failed to give him his propcjr title, lest he should recognize his posi- tion, Init superscribed his letter, " To George Washington, Estj." This was lioiTie T)y a messenger asking for Mr. Washington, who was properly re- minded, by the adjutant who met him, that he knew of no such person in the army, and the letter being produced, it was pronounced inadmissible. The messenger accordingly returned, and General Howe, some days after, sent another, ^vho asked for General Wash- ington, and being admitted to his presence, addressed him as Your Excel- lency^ offering another letter with vari- ous etceteras appended to the simple name, urging that they meant " every- thing." But Washington was not to be caught }>y a sul>terfuge. They may, indeed, said he, mean " eveiy- thing," but they also mean " anything," and he could not receive a letter relat- ing to his public station directed to him as a private person. So the Bi-it- ish adjutant -was compelled to report the contents of the e])istle, which re- lated to the reconciliation ; but here again he was checkmated ])y Washing- ton, who, aware of the nature of Lord Howe's overtures, replied that they were but pardons, and the Americans, who had committed no offence, but stood only upon their rights, could stand in no need of them. Thus ter- minated this interview, a most charac- teristic one, a model for dijdomatic action, and even private courtesy, which was highly appreciated l)y Congi'ess and the country at the time, and which will never be forgotten. Additional reinforcements to the royal troops on Staten Island now arrived from England ; a landing was made by the well-equipped army on Long Island, and a battle was immi- nent. Washington, who had his head- quai-ters in Ne\v York, made vigilant preparations around the city, and at tlie works on Long Island, which had been planned and fortified by Geneial Greene. Tliis officer unfortunately fiilling ill, the command fell to Geneial Putnam, -who Avas particularly charged by Washington with instructions for the defence of the i:)asses by which tlie enemy might approach. These were neglected, an attack was made from opposite sides, and in spite of much valiant fighting on the part of the va- rious defenders, who contended with fearful odds, the day was most disas- trous to the Americans. The slauc-hter was great on this 27th of August, and many prisoners, including General Sul- livan and Lord Stirling, were taken. Still the main works at Brooldyn, occu- pied by the American troops, remained, though, exposed as they were to the euemy'a fleet, they were no longer ten- able. Washington, whose duties kept him in the city to be ready for its de- fence, as soon as he heard of the engagement, hastened to the spot, but it was too late to tm-n the fortunes of 22 GEORGE WASHINGTON tlu' day. IIo was ooinpellod to witnoss tho tlisjustiT, tradition tells us, not with- out till' divpost onu>(ion. An unknown I'ontiMujiornry vorsitiiT of tlu> war, in liis simple rliynios, has eonunonioiatod the soouo : " l>r;>vo Wnsliiii);ton iVul say, Aliwt ptwil Olid, Hnivo mou I'vo lost to-ilny, Tlioy'ro in tlioir MiuhI. Ili.i griol'lio iliil o\i>ros3 To 800 tlioin ill (listrosi», Ills tMrs luul liitiuU wiUicsa llo lovM his iiion." ' But it was tho glory of "Washington to Siivo tho ivnuiant of tho ai'niy by a rctivat nioi-o nionioraMo than tho vic- tory of (lonoral Clinton. Tl>o day after tho battle, and tho ne.xt, wore pjissed without any doeisive nioveniouts on tho part of tho British, who were about bringing up their ships, and who, doubtless, as they had good reason, eonsidi'red their j)roy seeiuv. On tho tweuty-ninth, Washington took his measures for tho retreat^ and so ]ior- foctly wore they arranged, that the whole force of nine thousand, with ar- tillery, boi*sos, and tho entire equipage of war, were borne oft" that night, under cover of the fog, to the opposite shore in triumph. It was a most masterly operation, j)lanned and superintended bv AVashiuLTton fivni the beginning. Ho did not sleep or rest after the bat- tle till it wjis e.vecuted, and was among the last to cross. After this followed in rapid succes- sion, though with no undue haste, the abandonment of New York, the with- ' Dollad Litoratura of tho UcToIution. Cyclopadia of Ajurrican Litcmturc, I. US. di'awnl of the troops into "VVostchostor, the alVair at White Plains, tho mora serious loss of Fort Washington, and tho retreat through the Jerseys. It was the darkest j)eriod of the war, the days of which Paino wrote in the meiuoralile o.xprossion of the opening nund)er of his " Crisis." " Those are the times that try men's so\ds: tho sunt- mer soldier and the sunshine j>atriot will, in this crisi.s, shrink iVom the service t>f his country; but ho that stands it now, desi-rves tho love and thanks of man and woman." To infe- riority in numbers, with a host at its heels, the American soldiery added the serious disipnilifying conditions of lack of discipline and poverty of e(]uii)ment. Enlisted lor short terms, with all the evils of a voluntary militia unused to service, it was, as IIamilti>n, who shared the great chieftain's solicitudes, express- ed it, but " the phantom of a military force." Tho letters of Washington, at this jieriod, and indeed generally throuirhout the wiu\ are iillod with the anxieties of his ]>osition, in Avhieh he saw his fame perilled with the wellare of his eountry. The severest sutl'ering for an ingenuous mind is, j^orhaps, to bear unworthy reproach, to bo miscon- ceived by a iniblic for whom every sacritico is silently borne and euduroiL This was Washington's lot, for long, weary yoai's of marching and counter- marching between the Hudson and tho ChesajH'ake, husbanding his small, inef- ficient foive, retreating tivday, to-mor- row advancing, working the "phaU' torn " with such success in the face of the enemy as to porjilcx tho movements of experienced generals with consider- OEORGE WASUINQTON. 23 able forces. Nor was the fault altoge- ther at the (loor of Congress. That body was, iiideefl, a popular representa- tion, composed, at the outset, of vary al>l(; men, and always having such included in its numbers; but it was very loosely tied to its constituency. At present, the delegated power of the re[irc!sentative, where; not Hj)(;cially con- trolled, is absolute; but in the flimsy texture of the unformed body politic of the old confederacy, there was little cohesion of j)ai-ts or attention to mu- tual duties. The battles of the llevo- lutiou were fought with half-disciplined armies at the will of a half-formed administration. I^cal State jealousies had to be conciliated, and the people could not appreciate the advantage of an army, firmly handled, as the instru- ment of its own sovereign authority. Tlie battle had to be fought often and in many j)arts of the country, according to the immcfliate necessity and tempo- rary inclination. Much was gained by Washington, but it came slowly and reluctantly, though there were brilliant exc(;j)tions in the service. Generally, there was a want of regularity and imiformity. It was somewhat reme- died by the extraordinary powers con- ferred upon Washington at the close of 1T7G, but the evil was inherent in the necessarily loose political organiza- tion. After the battle of Long Island, there had been little but weariness and disaster, in the movements of Wash- ington, to the end of the year, when, as the forces of IIo\ve were apparently closing in upon him to open the route to PiiLLadelphia, he turned in very despair, and by the brilliant affair at Trenton retarded the motions of the enemy and checked the growing de- spondency of his countr}Tnen. It was well planned and courageously under- taken. Chiistmas night, of a most inclement, wintry season, when the river was blocked with ice, was chosen to cross the Delaware, and attack the British and Hessians on the opposite side at Trenton. The expedition was led ]>y AVashington in persft' Wasliiiiuton in New Jcrsi'y, \>n{ lie was I'oiK'd, and roniju'llc'd to Seok anotlior nu'thod of I'oadiing riiila- (lolpliia. Tlio witlidiawal of tlu' Brit- ish ti\H)j)s would tliusliavo loft n yiniplo coui-se to be piirsuod on (lio Dolawaro, Lad not the attention of ^Vashingtou been called in another direction by the advance of Burgoyno fri>ni Canada, It was natural to su})poso that Howe Avould act in concert with that ollicer on the Hudson, nor was Washington relieved from the dilemma till intolli- genee reached him that the British general had embarked his forces, and •was actually at the Ca])es of the Dela- ware. He then took uj) a position at (icrniantown for the defence of Phila- delj)hi;u Visiting the city for the j)ur- pose of conference with Congress, he there found the ^Manpiis do Lafayette, who had just presented himself, as a volunteer in the cause of liberty, to the government. His reception by Con- gress had halted a little on his lii'st arrival, but his disinterestedness had overcome all obstacles, and AVashington, who had schooled himself to look upon realities without jtrejudice, gave the young foreign officer a cordial welcome. He took liim to the camji, and soon gave him an ojijiortuuity to bleed in the sacred cause. Howe, meanwhile, the summer liav- iug jiassed away in these uncertainties, was slowly making his -way up the Chesapeake to the Head of Elk, to gain access to Bhiljidflphia from Maryland, and the American army was advanced to meet him. The British troops num- bt'red about eighteen thousaml ; the American, jjcrhaps two-thirds of th;it numlier. A stand was made by the latter at Chad's Ford, on the east sidn of the Brandywine, to which Knyjihau- sen was opposed on the opposite baidc, while Cornwallis, with a large division, took the ni)per course of the river, and turned the ilank of the ])ositlon. Gene- ral Sullivan was intrusted with this ])ortion of the defence; but time was lost, in the imcertainty of iufoi'niation, in meeting the movement, and when the i)artic3 met, Cornwallis had greatly the advantage. A rout ensued, which was saved from utter defeat by the resistance of Cu-neral Ciieene, who was placed at an advantageous point. La- fayette was severely Avoundcd in the leg in the course of tlie conilict. AVashino;ton was not dismayeil by the disaster; on the contrary, he kept the field, marshalling and mameuvring through a hostile country, one thousand of his tri")ops, as he informed Congress, actually baiefoot. He would have oflcred battle, but he was without the means to resist elVectually the occupa- tion of Philadelphii\, A jiart of the enemy's forces were stationed at Ger- mantown, a few miles from the city. Washington, considering them in an exposed situation, planned a surprise. It was well arranged, and at the outset was successful ; but, owing to the con- fusion in the heavy fog of the October moiTiing, and loss of strength and time in attackimj a stroncjly defended man- sion at the entrance of the village, what should have been a brilliant victi»i-y GEORGE WASHINGTON. 25 was changed into a partial defeat. The action, however, as Mr. Sparks ob- serves, was " not without its good effects. It revived the liopes of the country by jjroviug, that notwithstand- ing the recent successes of the enemy, neither the spirit, resolution and valor of the troops, nor the energy' and confi- dence of the commander, had suffered any diminution." It was the remark of the French minister, the Count de Vergennes, on hearing of tliese transac- tions, " that nothing struck him eo much as General Washington's attack- ing and giving battle to (Jenei'al Howe's army; that to bring an aniiy, raised within a year, to this, promised every- thing." Thus closed the campaign of 1777 in Pennsylvania, while Burgoyne was lay- ing down his arms to the northern anny at Saratoga. Though it was Washington's lot to endure all the difficulties of the service while Gates was reaping the rewards of victory, the former had his share in the counsels which led to that brilliant event. His letter to Schuyler, of the 2 2d of July, exhibited a knowledge of the position, and a prescience of the exact result, which show how successfully he would have managed the campaign in person. lie notices Burgoyne's first successes, and argues that they " will precipitate his min," while he sees his weakness in acting in detachment, exposing his par- ties to great hazard. " Could we," he xvrites, " be so happy as to cut one of them off, supposing it should not ex- ceed four, five, or six hundred men, it would inspirit the people, and do away much of theh* present anxiety." 4 Had he wi-itten after, instead of before the event, he could not better have described the influence of Bennington. To Washington, as the directing head of the national ai-my, belongs his full share of the glories of Saratoga; yet the accidental gi-eatness which fell to the vainglorious Gates was made the occasion of assaults upon the Comman- der-in-Chief, which would have crept from theii- mean concealments into open revolt, had not the conspiracy been strangled in its infancy by the incor- ruptibility of his friends and the vii'tue of the countiy. The encampment at Valley Forge succeeded the scenes we have de- scribed. It is a name synonymous with suffering. Half clad, wanting fre- quently the simplest clothing, without shoes or ]>lankets, the army was hutted in the snows and ice of that inclement winter. Yet they had Washington with them iirging every means for theii' welfare, while his "Lady," as his wife was always called in the army, came from Mount Vernon, as was her custom dujing these winter encampments, to lighten the prevailing despondency. She lived simply with her husband, sharing the huml^le provisions of the camp, and occupying herself ^viih her needle in preparing gaiments for the naked. Washington, meanwhile, was busy with a Committee of Congress in putting the army on a better foundation. With the retm-n of summer came the evacuation of Philadelphia by the Brit- ish, who were pursuing their route across New Jersey to embark on the waters of New York. AVashington with his forces was watcliing theu- 20 GEOROE WASHINGTON. niovonionta from al>ovo. Shall lie nt- tni'k tluMii on tlu'ir iiiaivh ? Tlu'iv was a division of ojjinion among his oflii^'is. Tho eqnivooal Cliailrs IjOo, tlu-n un- RUSjH'i'tod, uns o|)])(>s('d to tho step; hut AVashington, uith his host advi,sois, Groono, Lafayotto, and AVayno, was in favor of it. Ho accordingly sont La- fayotto forward, whon Loo intorposod, and olainu'd tlio ooniinand of tho ad- vanoo. AVashiniTton hinisolf movod on O "with tho reserve towards tho enemy's position near I^fonmouth Com-t Ilonso, to take i>art in tho fortunes of tho day, the 'J 8th of Juno. As he was jirooooil- iug, he was met by the intoUigenco that Lee was in full retreat, without notice or aj^jiaront cause, endangering tho order of the rear, and throatoning tho utmost confusion, rrosontly ho oamo upon Leo himself, and demanded from him with an emphasis roused hy the fioroost indignation — and tho anger of Washington whon excited was torrilic — tho cause i>f the disorder. Leo re- jdiod angrily, and gave such o.xplana- tion as ho could of a superior force, when Wavshington, doubtless mindful of his previous conduct, answered him with dissati.sfaction, and, it is said, on the authority of Lafayette, ended by calling the retreating general "a damned poltroon."^ It was a groat day for tho genius of "Washington. He made his arrangements on the spot to retrieve the fortimes of the hour, and 80 admirable were tho disjwsitions, and 8o Will Avas he seconded by tho bravery of ollicora and mvn, even Loo, reiloem- iug his character by his valor, that at ' Dawson's " Battles of the United Stales," I. 40». the close of that hot and wearj' day, the Americans having added greatly to tho glory of tlitir arms, lemainod at least etjual masters of the iiold. 1'he next morning it was fo\uu\ that Sir Henry Clinton had witlidiawn towards Sandy Hook. The remainder of the season was ]>assed by Washington on tho eastern borders of the Hudson, in readiness to cou])erate with tho French, who had now arrived luider D'Kstaing, anil in watching tho British in New York. In December he took up his winter quarters at Middlobrook, in New Jersey. Tho event of the next )oar in the little anny of Wjishington, was Wayne's gallant storming of Stony Point, on the Hudson, ono of the de- fences of the Highlands, which had boon recently cai)turod and manned by Sir Henry Clinton. Tho attack on tho night of the ISth July was planned by Washington, and his directions in his in- structions to AVayne, models of careful military j)recision, wore faithfully car- ried out Henry Lee's sj)irited i\ttack on Paulus Hook, within sight of New York, followed, to cheer tho enc:mijv mont of Washington, who now busied himself in fortifying West Point. Win- ter again finds tho army in quarters in Now Jei-soy, this time at Morristown, when tho hardshijis and severities of Valley Forgo were even exceeded in the distressed condition of tho troops in that risjorous season. The main incidents of tho war are hencet'orth at the South. Tho most jiromiuent event in the l)oi-sonal career of Washington, of the year 1780, is certainly the defection of Arnold, with its attendant execution of Major Aniliv, This unha]>py trear GEORGE WASUINGTON. 27 sou waH every way calculated to enlist his feelings, but he suffered neither hate nor sympathy to di\ ei-t him from the considerate jmtli of duty. We may not pause over th(i sul^sequent events of the war, the renewed exertions of Congress, the severe cfjntests in the South, the meditated movement upon New York the following year, hut must hasten to the sc<£uel at Yorktown. The movement of the army of Washington to Virginia was determined }>y the ex- pected arrival of the French fle(;t in that quaiier from the West Indies. Lafayette was already on the spot, where h(i had Ijcen engaged in the de- fence of the country from the inroads of Arnold and PJjiJliji.s. Coniwallis had anived from the South, and unsu.s- picious of any serious opposition was entrenching himself on York Kiver. It was all that could he desired, and Washington, who had heen planning an attack upon New York with llo- charaheau, now suddenly and secretly directed his forces }>y a rapid march southward. Extraordinary exertions were made to expedite the troops. ITic timely arrival of Colonel John Lawrens, from France, with an instal- ment of the Fiench loan in specie, came to the aid of the liberal efforts of th(; financier of the llevolution, Itobert Morris. Lafayette, with the Virgin- ians, was hedging in the fated Corn- wallis. Washington had just left Phila- delphia, when he heard the joyous news of the arrival of De Grasse in the Chesapeake. He hastened on to the scene of action in advance of the troops, with De Rochamheau gaining time to pause at Mount Vernon, which he had not seen since the opening of the war, and enjoy a day's hun-ied hospitality with his French officers at the wel- come mansion. Airived at Wllliarns- buig, Washington urged on the mili- tary movements with the energy of an- ticipated victory. "Iluiiy on, then, my dear sir," he wrote to General Lin- coln, "with your troops on the wings of sp'jcd" To make tjie last arrangf:;- ments with the French admiral, he visited him in his ship, at the mouth of James' Ili ver. Everything was to he done l^efore succor couJd arrive from the British fleet and troops at New York. The combined French and Ameri- can forces closed in upon Yorktown, which was fortified T>y redoubts and batteries, and on the first of October, the place was completely investefL The first parallel was opened on the sixth. Washington lighted the first gun on the nintli. The storming of two annoying redoubts by French and American parties were set down for the night of the fourteenth. Hamilton, at the head of the lattci', gallantly car- lied one of the works at the point of the bayonet without firing a shot. Washington watched the proceeding at imminent hazard. The i-edoubts gained were foilifi<;d and turned against the town. The second parallel was ready to open its fire. Cornwallis vainly at- tempted to escape with his forces across the river. He received no relief from Sir Henry Clinton, at New York, and on the 17th he proposed a surrender. On the 19th, the terms having been dictated by Washington, the whole British force laid down their arms. It was the viilual termination of the war, 28 GEORGE WASniNGTOX. the oro'mnng net of a vast series of military operations ])lanne(l and per- fected by the genius of Washington. During the remainder of the Avar, his ellorts and vigihmee were not re- laxed ; and he had one op])ortunity, ever memorable in the annals of politi- cal liberty, of showing his superiority to the common ambition of eonijuerors. In Mi\y, 11S-, a letter was addressed to hun by Col. Nicola, an officer who had the esteem of the army, stating the inefficiency of the existing atlministra- tion, and suggesting a mixed form of government, with a King at its head, with no indirect appeal to the ambition of the Commander-in-Chief as the j)roper recipient of the office. To this, Wash- ington ivplied with the utmost decision, but without the least aH'cctation (>f doing anything heroic ; he simply puts the idea out of the way as something utterly inadmissible, " painful " and "disagreeable" to his mind. lie re- jects it as a gentleman would an unhandsome su£:c;estiou. ]\Iuch has been said of this matter, and there is reason to believe not unjustifiably, in praise of Washington. " There Avas unquestionably," says Mr. Sparks, " at this time, and for some time aftei-AA'ards, a party in the army, neither small in number nor insignilieaut in character, prepared to second and sustain a measiu-e of this kind, which they con- ceived necessary to strengthen the civil power, draw out the icsources of the countiy, and establish a durable govern- ment." No one felt these evils more keenly than Washington, but he had too much faith in the Republic to despair of a better method of cure. lie knew ns well as any that he could not be king if he would ; the anecdote is (piite sufficient to prove, where proof was not wanting, that he woidd not if he could. Another opportunity yet remained to exhibit his control of the temper of the army, and his habitual deference of military to civil government. The occasion arose while he was with the trooj)s at headi|Uarters at Newburg, in the spring of 1YS3, on the eve of the receipt of the final intelligence of ])eaee. Congress, always dilatoiy in j)i'oviding for the army, had shown an imwillingness or incapacity to meet their claims ; patient remonstrance had been disregarded ; and \\o\v a meeting of olTicers was called, instigated by an a])peal of extraordinary vigor, one of the comj>ositions since ascertained to have been written by General John Armstrong, and known as " The New- burg Lettei"s," which threatened serious revolt. It was not the first time that Washincrton had been called to act in such an emergency. In the withdrawal of the Pennsylvania line from the camp at the beginning of 1781, he had met a similar difficulty, with great prudence and moderation. lie now brought these qualities to bear with a quickness and decision proportioned to the crisis. Summonin!:: the officers together, he addressed to them a finu but tender remonstrance, opening his address Avith a touch of pathos Avhich trained all hearts. Pausing after ho had commenced his remarks, to take his spectacles from his pocket, he re- mai'ked that he had "grown grey in their service, and now I am growing OEOROE "WASniNGTON. 29 hlinrl." It was the honeHt heart of Washington, and the disafTccted re- sponded to the wisdom and feeling of his address. The news of peace anivod Avithin the month, and the anny ])rej)ared to separate. In memory of tlieir fra^ temity, the Society of the Cincinnati \viiH founded, consisting of officers of the Revolution and their descendants, with "Washingtr)n at its head. In the beginning of Novemher, he took leave of the army in an address from head- quarters, -with his accustomed -warmth and emotion, and on the 25tli, entered New York at the head of a military and civic procession as the British evacuated the city. ' On the 4th of December, he was escorted to the hai'bor on his way to Congress, at Annapolis, to resign his command, after a touching scene of farewell with his officers at Fraunces' Tavei-n, when the great chieftain did not disdain the sensibility of a tear and the kiss of his friends. Amved at Annapolis, having on the way delivered to the proper officer at Philadelphia his accounts of his expenses dui'ing tlie war, neatly written out by his own hand, on the twenty-third of the month he restored his commission to Congress, with a few remarks of great felicity, in which he commended " the interests of om* dearest country to the protection of Almfghty God ; and those who have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping." Mount Vernon again welcomed its restored lord. He reached his home the day before Christmas, and cheerily, doubtless, the smoke on that sacred holiday ascended from the thankfiil festivities. A few days after, a letter to Governor Clinton, of New York, his old comrade in arms, records the inner- most feeling of his heart. "The scene," he writes, " is at last closed. I feel myself eased of a load of public care. I hope to spend the remainder of my days in cultivating the affections of good men and in the practice of the domestic viiiues." Did ever conqueror so resign his heart before ? We may not linger, tempting as is the theme, over the simjde life on the Potomac, though there is to he studied, no less than in camps and senates, the true nature of the man. Kind, hos- pitable, sympathetic to every worthy ap2:)eal, engaged in the care of his estate, sowing, planting," reaping, the youthfulness of his old family circle renewed in the children of young Custis, who had followed his sister to an early gi'ave, he lived in dignified, cheerful retirement. He even revived his old sports of the chase, though he had no longer the veteran Fairfax to cheer him on with his halloo. The old nobleman had lived to listen to the tidings of Yorktown, when he turned himself to the wall and die(L Here Fame might be content to close the scene in her record of her favorite child. At the treaty of peace he was fifty-one, and had gloriously consum- mated the duties of two memorable eras in the history' of his country, each draAvinii alonjc its train of ideas — the war with France and the war with Great Britain; a double relief from foreign bondage; the establishment of religious and political independence 30 GKOIUI V. WASHINGTON. His services to eitlire liliu. lie is to assist, by his nllpoworful v«)ii'e and exaiui)le, in guiding the nation he, more than any, liad formed, through its perilous crisis — the dangerous period when it was first K'ft to itsi'lf — to the calm mainte- nanee of civil lilicrty. It is the youth just freed from the restraint of harsh and initpiitous parentage, putting him- self under the yoke of a new and voluntary suhmission. This second jiupilage, to self-government, resulted in till' foiiiiatlon of the Constitutiou. Many ministered to that n(d)le end, far more wt>rthy of admiration even than the ])revious wars, but who more anx- iously, more j>erseveringly, than "Wash- ington I His aiithority carried the heart and intelligence i>f the country with it, and most ai^projjriatcly was he placed at the head of tlie Convention, in 17S7, which gave a government to the scattered States and made America a nation. Once more he was calleil to listen to the highest demanils of his country in his unanimous election io the Presi- di-ncy. AVith M'hat emotions, with what humlile resignation to the voice of duty, with how little lluttering of vain glory let the modest entry, in his Diary, of the llUh April, 1780, cited by "Washington Irving, tell : " About ten (.)Vlock," ho ^\Tites, " I bade adieu to Mount Vernon, to private life and to domestic felicity; and >\nth a iniml ojv pi"ea<*ed with more anxious and pain- ful sensations than I have words to oxi^ix'ss, set out for New York with the best disposition to render service to my country in obedience to its call, but with less hope of answering its expectations." He nuist liave felt, gravely as he bore his responsibilities, something of exulting emotion as he was borne along to the seat of govern- nu'ut at New York by the hearty plaudits of his countrymen. Yet we ui'ver hear, in a single instance, then or afterwards, of his exhibiting any feeling, or manifesting any conduct inconsistent with the simi)lest decorum of a gentleman. He was eminently friendly and social, but calm, dignified, and I'eserved, sujjeradding doubtless something, as was fitting, to his natural gravity, in thought of the nation which he rej>resented, but far removed from mock greatness. We have the most authentic means of apju-eciating Washington at this time, in his jirivate Diary, which has been jninted, from the first day of October, 1780, to the 10th day of March, 1 70(\ He had been five mouths seated in the rresidency, his inaugura- tion having taken ]>lace on the oOth April. During a j)ortion of this time he had been prostrated by illness, and death seemed at hand. We may jtause to note his ri>})ly to his jdiysician. Dr. Bard, who could not but express his feara of his recovery: "Whether to- night or twenty years hence makes no ditlerence; I know that I am in the hands of a good Providence ;" the very breathing of pious resignation. If aught were needed, news of his mo- ther's death, at Fivdericksburg, i-ame to temper the sober joy of his convales- cence. The erne of setting the machiu- GEORGE WASHINGTON. 81 cry of the new government in motion succeeded, when Congress adjourned, and the Diary introduces us to the New England tour, extending into New Ilarapsliire, to which lie devoted this interval of leisure. His roadside observations on this journey show his knowledge of agriculture, of which he was always a fond olwerver, with many simple traits (jf character ]>y the way, and one famed liistoric passage in his account of the reception at Boston, where Governor Hancock, slow in appreciating national etiquette, seemed to hesitate whether more was due to himself or to his Presidential guest. We may leani, too, from the Diary, his conscientious scrutiny, in private, of the processes leading to his public acts, and may venture within his sacred hours of retirement and open thos(! doors whicli were always closed to the world. On Sundays, he attends church in the morning, while .at New York, at St. Pauls, and occupies the afternoons with his piivate correspondence. On Tuesday his house is op(!n to all comers. There are many anecdotes of his residence here and at Philadelphia, of his mode of living during his two terms of the Presidcmcy. He was an early riser, a habit with him through life, and apportioned his day with the strictest accuracy. Economy he always practised on princij)le, " for the privi- lege of being indepenef'oi'e us tlu; man.* In 1791, Washington made a Presi- dential tour thi-ough tlie SoutheiTi States, similar to his tour to the East, which has also been made; public in his piinted Diary. He travelled in his caniage along the seaboard througli Virginia and the Carolinas to Georgia, when he had the oppoiiunity of tra- versing many scenes of the ^war, ^vliich he had watched with so much anxiety, and which had been hitherto known to him only by report. ' Ample illustrations of tliis character aro boforo tlio public in Mr. Custis' Rccolloctions, with Mr. Lossing'ii notes ; the latter'a " Mount Vernon ami its Aa.sociatcs ;" the Northern ami Southern Tours of Wa«hin{;ton, in his two Diaries, publlBhed by Mr, Uichanlson, at New York, and the late Mr. Richard Rush's review of the Correspon- dence of Washington with his private secretary, Lear. Irving's Life abounds with line personal traits of charac- ter; Mrs. Kirkland has added much iu lior excellent "Memoirs" from a careful study of the original MSK. in the Department of State; Paulding's "Life" has BOinc- tliing that is not cl.^ewherc, and every student ol Wa.-;h- inglon must aeknowh'dge with pleasure his obligation ia little things, as in great, to Mr. Jarcd Sparka. 82 GEORGE WASHINGTON. Mennwliilc, parties wore gniilually forming in tbe govermueut — tlie couser- vativi' and tlu' i)r()i;;ri'ssivc, smli as will always arise in liimian institutions — representod in the administration ])y the rival statesmen, Hamilton and Jef- feraon; l)ut Washington honestly recog- nized no guide but the welfare of his country, and the rising waves of faction beat harmlessly beneath his Presi- dential chair. One test question, how- ever, rose in those days into gigantic proportions. The example of America was followed by France with entliusi- asm in the recovery of her libciiies, and the hearts of noble-sj)irited men throughout the world responded to her eflbrts for freedom. Washington could not but extend his cordial sympathy, when Lafayette sent to him the thril- ling intelligence, and forwarded to his kcej.ing, as a souvenir of rising liberty, the key of the IJastile ; yet even then lie breathes a prayer for the safety of his frieud in " the tremendous tem- pests" which had " assailed the jjolitical shij)." In the darker lc were so forgetful of themselves jiud their country as to favor his schemes ; but no 6uch sophis- try or delusion could reach the mind of Washington. He stood firm, and the whole country learnt in lime to actpiiesce in the wisdom of his decision ; but many a paug was inflicted first on the heart of the President, who was keenly sensitive to jxipular ingratitude. The contest culminated in the strutjy-le over Jay's British Treaty in Congress, and Washington fairly gained a tri- umph iu the vote of ap])roval. There were other public events of imjjortance in his two administrations. The West- ern Indian War, and the Penusyhania Whisky Insurrection, both di'eplj^ engaged his attention. His emotion on first hearing the news of St. Clair's tU'feat, exhiljited iu the presence of his j)rivate secretary, Tobias Lear, "was one of those bursts of passion, brief and rare, in his life, but fearful in their strength. His instructions to that oflicer, on ])arting, had been most care- ful. He was about to engage in a war- fare which Washington had learnt to know so well, iu the experiences of his early life, and his injunctions Avere given with proportionate earnestness. " Beware," said he at ])artiug, " of a surprise ;" and St. Clair dej^arted with the startling admonition. When Wash- intrton heard of the disaster to his troops, the scene of desolation, with all its consequences, came vividly to his mind with the lurking strength of his own olil im])ressions. " Oh, God ! oh, God !" he exclaimed, " he's woi-se than a murderer ! How can he answer it to his country ! The blood of the slain is upon him — the cui-se of widows and orphans — the cui'se of heaven !'' This GEORGE WASHINGTON. 83 fervid outbreak was followed, almost instantly, by the reliound, which was truly characteristic of Washinfjton : " I will heal' him without prejudice ; he shall have justice." Thus, iu the very tempest and whirlwind of his rage, in the words of the great di'amatist, the7"e was " a temperance to beget a smooth- ness." Washington was always ti-ue to the cardinal principle of justice. In like manner with the Pennsylvania insuj-gcuts, he was zealous in the main- tenance of authority, but disposed to mercy at the first signs of submis- sion. As the close of his second adminis- tration approached, he turned his thoughts eagerly to Mount Vernon for a few short years of repose ; aud w(;ll had he earned them by his long series of services to his countiy. He would have been welcomed for a third tenn, but office had no temptation to divert him from his settled resolution. Yet he parted fondly -vvith the nation, and like a parent, desired to leave some legacy of counsel to his country. Ac- cordingly, he published in September, 1796, in the "Daily Advertiser," in Philadelphia, the paper known as his Farewell Address to the People of the United States. It had long engaged his attention ; he had planned it him- self, and, careful of what he felt might be a landmark for ages, had consulted Jay, Matlison and Hamilton in its com- position. The spu'it and sentiment, the political Avisdom and patriotic fer- vor were every whit his own. Open- ing with a few personal remarks in reference to his Presidency, he })roceeds enlarging his view to new generations 5 in the future. His fii-st thought is for the preservation of national unity- — that the Union should receive " a cor- dial, habitual and inmiovable attach- ment." The force of language cannot be exceeded with which he urges the importance of this theme })y eveiy appeal of sensibility and interest. The Constitution is then commended, as the guardian of the whole, to the national affection and respect, with a warning intimation of the dangers of party- spirit carried to excess. E(|ually upon governors and governed does ho im- press his views. At home he calls for the diffusion of knowledge, a respect for public credit, avoiding needless debt ; and for our intercourse with other nations, strict impartiality. Let us have, says he, " as little ^^rv^/Z/cwZ connection with them as possible." This and Union are the main themes of the discourse, which closes with the anticipation of " that retreat in which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partak- ing, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government, the ever favorite object of my heaii, and the hapjiy reward, as I tinist, of our mutual cares, labors and dangers." Thus, once agaiu. Mount Vernon re- ceived her son, destined never long to repose unsolicited by his countiy, France, pursuing her do\vnward course, adopted an aggressive policy towards the nation, which the most conciliating deference could no longer suppoi-t. A state of quasi war existed, and actual war was imminent. The President looked to Washiutiton to ojjianize llio 84 GEORQE WASHINGTON. lUTny ami take the coiumand, sluniUl it be l»ronii;ht into action, and lie aoeord- intjly Inisiod liimsolf in tlu' neeossary prei>arations. It was bost, lie tJioiiLclit, to be jn'ei»arod for tlie worst Avliilo lookius; for the best. Kow nor his yeai-s, when, on the 12 th December, he sufiered some con- siderable exposure from a storm of snow and rain which came on while he wiis out, and in whiih he continued his ride. It proved, the next da}-, that he had taken cold, but he made light of it, and passed his usual evening cheerfully with the family circle. He became worse duriuiT the uiirht with iuflamma- tiou of the throat. lie was seriously ill. Having sent for his old army sur- geon. Dr. Craik, he was bled by his overseer, and again on the arrival of the physician. All was of no avail, and he calmly prepared to die. "I am not afraid," said he, " to go," while with ever tlu>uglitful courtesy he thanked his friends and attendants for their little attentions. Thus the day wore away, till ten in the night, when his end was f;ist ajiproachiug. He noticed the failing moments, liia last act being to place his hand uj)oa his piilse, and cahuly expired. It was the fourteenth of December, 17'.>l). His remains were inteired in the jn'ave on the bank at Mount Vernon, in front of his residence, and there, in no long time, according to her i)rediction at the moment of his death, his wite, I\Iarth;i, whose miniature he always wore on his breast, was laid beside him. She died within three yeai-s of lier husband, at INIouut Vernon, the 2"2d of May, 1802. We need not follow a mourning i>ub- lie in their sorrow and lamentations over the grave of Washington, or trace the growing admiration which attends his naine tlirouirhout the world wlier- ever it has been heard. His merits and virtues are now proudly spoken of and dearly reverenced in the land of his ancestors, asrainst which he led the m'mies of his countr}men. Every day it is felt that he belongs more and more to the world. He enjoys that apotheosis of fame awarded to the great spirits of the earth, who have been chosen by Pro\'ideuce to grand national duties ; but more than most of them, his memory is the reward of a life of piety and purity, of simj)le faith and justice, of uurelaxing duty; great in its acts, greater in the heiut, iuspiiing virtues which dictated them. Jffni. /f/d??/,) I JOHN ADAMS. The Adams family, witli whom private and public worth may be said to be hereditary, may be traced in the earliest annals of the colony of Massachusetts to Henry Adams, who, in 1640, settled at Braintree. His son Joseph adhered to the place through along life and left a son of the same name who continued on the spot, while his elder brother John, the grandfather of the celebrated Sam- uel Adams, removed to Boston. This Joseph last mentioned was the grand- father of the second President of the United States. John Adams, the subject of this paper, was born in the town of Brain- tree, October 19, 1735. His father was something more than a i-espectable, he was a useful citizen of the town ; he had been educated at Har- vard ; held the offices of deacon and selectman, honoring the one by his piety and discharging the other with fidelity, and according to a habit not unfrequent with small property-holders in New England, eked out the re- sources of his farm by shoe-making. Taking care to transmit the benefit which he had received, he provided that his eldest son, John, should have the advantage of a college education. He was prepared for Plar^^ard by the aid both of the Congregational minister and of the Episcopal reader at Brain- tree, was a good student of his class, which sent many eminent men into the world, and in due time graduated at the age of twenty in 1755. The talent which he displayed in the commence- ment exercises, attracted the notice of a person present, charged Avith a commis- sion to supply a Latin master for the Grammar School of Worcester. He applied to Adams, who imdertook the task, and shortly after set out on the horse sent for him by the town's people, making the sixty miles' journey in a single day. This transfer fi'om the home sphere was highly favorable to his development : he was thrown upon his o^vn resources among strangers, and doubtless the privations and little vexations of his schoolmaster's life, stimulated his independent nature to further exertions. The school appears at fii'st to have been very distasteful to his aspiring mind ; but he became reconciled to its duties, and doubtless profited by the discipline which he himself adminis- tered. " I find," says he, after some months' occupation at this diiidgeiy in shaping the cinide material of the Wor- cester nurseries, " I find by repeated observation and experiment in my school, that human nature is more 85 S6 JOHN ADAMS. easily wrought upon and governed by promises and eiioourageinent and juaise, than by punishment and threatening and bhuue" — a seutenee which shoulfl bi' grafted in tlie memory of every sehoohaaster in the hind. The j)edagoguo is not altogether given over to mending iwn», the agree- able alternations of biivhing and ferul- ing or a-b-c-ing the bojs, t)f whieh he humorously eom])lains, but linds time to store his mind with good reading, makes aeipiaintanee with the writings <.>f such politieal j)hiloso])hers as Gor- don and Bolingbn)ke, and is ambitious of the soeiety of the place, always con- Bcious that John Adams should be somebody in the world, and that it is but an act of common justice to himself to take all proj)cr means to secure tlie ])ositiou. The house of Colonel Jmnes Putnam, an able lawyer of the j)lace, is oj)en to him ; thither he fre(iueutly resorts, and after awhile, the law secur- ing his attention — he had by tliis time j)retty well argued himself out of the New England orthodo.^y, and so given up any thoughts of the jmljiit — pro- j>oses to study the profession with his friend. Mr. Putnam consents, and IMi-s. Putnam makes provision in the house for the student, who is also to continue in charge of the urchins at the school. Tlie legal a]>prenticeship con- tinues two years, during which it is to be regretted that the Diary is sUent, when .It)hn Adams takes leave of the l)o])ulatiou of "Worcester, little and great, to seek ailniissiou to the Colonial bar. He takes up his residence with his father at Braiutree, or Quincy, as it is now called, at thp old paternal dwell- ing, and one day in October, IT^S, goes to Boston to be intri)duced by Attorney-General Gridley, the father of the bar, to the Superior Court, and is admitted Attorney at Law in his Majesty's Courts of the Province. The attorney relaxes none of his dili- gence in attention to the old law, in the study of lahorious volumes, over which the dust has long gathered in legal libraries. Those were the days before Blackstone, when no republican road had been marked out to the secret jilaces of the profession, when the ma.xim of Coke, the viijintl annontm InciiIjrationes\ was still in vogue, when no Lord Broucrham or reviser of the statutes had risen to prepare the smooth pathway of legal reform. Reading the entries of these grave old studies, bur- dened with the traditions of English centuries, from Bracton and Fleta, Coke and Fortescue, we may ask, "A\Tiere be his (|uiddets now, his quillets, his cases, his teiuires, and his tricks ?" Gone ^vith the old wigs and colonial state, and we need sigh no alas ! at the reminiscence. We see Adams, in these years of opening manhood, lighted along his daUy path l)y the cheerful, pleasant Diary, the man of the world and of society, emei'ging from the old formal- ism; the independent thinker, built on the antiquarian student, as he gathers strength from discussion, and takes the measure of the leaders of that day. He is not backward in entering into con- troversy with, and judging some of them, but he retires at night to be a more riijid censor of himself. There is a sufficient stock of vanity in some of JOHN ADAMS. 37 his revelations, but there is a greater diffidence ; and he manages to blend the two into a good working union, dili- gence furnishing the bottom, and vanity being only the spur to his honorable career. There is some vainglory, jier- ha2)s, in his writing down, even pri- vately for himself, how he spent his evenings in company with a book at the fii'eside, while Doctor Gardiner, Billy Belcher, Stephen Cleverly, the Quincys, and other young fellows of the town, are playing cards and drink- ing punch at the tables : but it is not the less true that he is thereby preparing himself to emerge from poverty, receive fees, bear Parson Smith's daughter as his wife to his home, and in good time support the duties of the State. Hav- ing mentioned this marriage, we may Jiere, a little out of date, state that the event occurred in October, 1764; that the lady, the fair Abigail, was the daughter of the Bev. William Smith, of Weymouth, and grand-daughter of Colonel John Quincy, of Mount Wol- laston, of colonial fame ; that she was young, and possessed accomplishments in intellect and reading, projiortioned to his own, as her published letters testify ; and that the union, "the source of all his felicity," continued for fifty- three years, having its only pang in absence and the final separation. We are now to trace Adams' politi- cal career. It began with his offering public resolutions at Braintree, and his maintaining an argument in behalf of the town of Boston, addi'essed to the Colonial Government in opposition to the Stamjj Act. He published, about the same date, several papers in the " Boston Gazette," which were reprinted in London by Thomas Ilollis, who gave them the not very fortunate title, " A Dissertation on the Canon and the Feudal Ijaw," which has probably pre- vented many persons looking at the tract, who would be interested by its review of the principles of the New England settlements, and its vigorous appeal to the people in the existing struggle. Notwithstanding he was looked to as a leader for the popular party, he had no sympathy with their acts of violence, and when the distui'b- ance occurred which resulted in the filing upon the people by the Biitish troops, he independently and humanely, a thing which should always be re- membered in his honor, gave his ser- vices to Preston and the defence. This caused him some unpopularity, but did not hinder his election, immediately after, to the General Coui't, as the legis- lative body was called in Massachu- setts. When the news of his election was brought to him, he made his first appearance at Faneuil Hall, and ac- cepted the choice. It was the tm-ning point of his career. On one side lay a profitable legal practice, in a routine dear to the legal mind ; on the other a troubled sea of opposition and revolt. A pojiular nominee has seldom accepted an election with less of satisfaction. " I considered the step," he said, " as a devotion of my fiimily to ruin and my- self to death." Mrs. Adams burst into tears at the event, but approved the choice ; the duty was clear, and the rest was piously left to Providence. He was now a resident of Boston, but the constant labors of his profes- 88 JOHN ADAMS. Bion, ami the confinement of the city ■wearing iipon his health, he resigned Lis seat in the Legishature, and again made Kia residence in Braintree, having hia ofliee in Boston. Ilis studies, family cares, and the duties of hia pro- fession, had thus far, rather than poli- tics, mainly engaged hia attention. The time was come, however, Avhen l)usiness was at an end, and home, to lie enjoyed, must he protected. If all the leadei-s of opinion did not speak openly of revolt and revolution, thei-e •were jirohaMy few of them -who did not feel that they were drifting rajiidly towards it. In 1774 he was appointed by the Genernl Court one of the Bepresenta- tives to the Congress at Philadelphia; Lis associates being Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, and his troublesome old friend, " Bob," now- Robert Ti-eat Paine. They journeyed toirether in one coach, through llartfortl and New Haven to New York. At Xew York Adams is nuich taken with I\IeDougall, jiarticularly his oi)en manners. The tlelegates are received with hospitality, so that Adams com])lains of not being able to see the objects of interest in the to\\'n. VTlxiit were they at that time ? The college, the churches, printing offices, anil booksellers' shops ; few in- deed to be corapai'ed with the present lions, yet relatively great to the people of that day. Piissiug on to Princeton, his patriot- ism is retreshi'd by a conference with President Witherspoou, " as high a son of liberty as any man in America." One of the llrst persons he is introduced to at Pluladel])hia is Charles Thomson, the perpetual Secretaiy of Congress, whom he understands is "the Sam Adams of rhiladili)hia, the life of the cause of liberty;" a valuable testimony this, by the way, if he ninnled such, to the j)oj)ular estimate of hia associate. The business of the Congress at once engages his attention. He has to study "the characters and tempers, the prin- ciples and views of fifty gentlemen, total strangers, and the trade, policy and whole interest of a dozen provinces ; to learn and jiractise reserve in the com- munication i>f his jilans and wishes." The discussions are tedious. " Every man is a great man, an orator, a critic, a statesman ; and therefore cveiy man, ujion every question, must show his oratory, his criticism, and his politiciil abilities." Yet this Congress held Washington, Jay, Patrick Henry, Samuel Adams, John Dickinson, Bich- ard Henry Lee, Butledge, Gadsden, and other notables, and men learnt to sigh a fcAV years afterwards, when the repre- sentation fell into neglect, at the thought of these early deliberative gianta In fact, all great efforts have their weari- ness; of all things human, there is none great enough to satisfy the wants of the sold. Adams, with the rest, did his good day's work discussing a Declara- tion of Rights, confronting Galloway, the projector of a plan for imion M-ith England, debating the non-importation resolutions, consulting with Patrick Henry on the Petition to the King, and when the long morning work is over, dining and feasting with the wealthy citizens of Philadelphia, in admiration at the costly entirtainments, and a little surprised that he is not JOHN ADAMS. 39 affected l)y the unusual libations of Madeira. Ketuming home to Massachusetts after the short session of this body, he is cliosen to the Proviucial Congress, alj'eady quite busy with revolt, and when this duty is discharged, turns his pen to answer the annoying Toiy argu- ments of Massachusettensis, Daniel Leonard, as it afterwards appeared, who was greatly cheering the hearts of the administration men in the colonies by his logical efforts in the " Gazette and Postboy." The replies of Adams, signed Novanglus, covering the old legal and historical issues, twelve in number, accomplished something of a diversion, or as tlio author afterwards expressed it, " had the effect of an anti- dote to the poison." There were several unpul;lished in the printei''s hands, when the Battle of Lexington "changed the instruments of warfare from the pen to the sword." Three weeks afterwards he was at Philadel- phia at the Second Congress, in 1775. Befoi'e his departure from Boston, he had visited the camp at Cambridge, and observed its necessities. Early on the assembling of Congress, he proposed Washington for Commander-in-Chief; " the modest and virtuous, the amiable, generous and brave," as he calls him in a letter to his wife, and has the satisfac- tion of accomjianying him a little way out of Philadel2)hia towards his distant command. Franklin, Avho had recently bid farewell to England, was also a member of this body. During the first session of this Con- gi'ess, Adams was diligently employed in the preparatory measui'es which led to the Declaration of Independence and Confederation of the following year. As the time approached, his activity and boldness were displayed as the full grandeur of tlie scenes rose to his mind. " Objects," he wrote to William Cush- ing, " of the most stupendous magni- tude, and measures in which the lives and lil^erties of millions yet unborn are intimately interested, are now be- fore us." " Yesterday," he writes to his wife, on the third of July, 1V76, on the passage of Lee's Resolution of In- dependence, " the greatest question was decided which ever was debated in America, and a greater, perhaps, never was nor will be decided among men ;" and again the same day, in another let- ter to Mr-s. Adams, a remarkable pro- j)hetic passage — "The second day of July, 1776, will be the most memorable ejioch in the history of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great Anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the day of deli- verance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized Avith pomp and parade, with shows, games, spor-ts, guns, bells, bon- fires and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time for-ward, forevermore." Adams was on the committee for pre- paring the Declaration, and was active in the debate. In the absence of the present system of executive duties of government, the old Congress was com- pelled to resor-t to the awkward ex pedient of boards, in which the honoi and cfficiencv, rather than the; toil, were diminished by the division of labor 40 JOHN ADAMS. Atlains was made chairman of the Board of War, and was much cmjiloyed iu military affairs till his departure from Congress at the close of the next year. In November, 17Y7, Congress, having become dissatisfied with the manage- ment of Silas Dean, in France, appoint- ed Adams iu his place. He set sail iu the tVisrate Boston iu the ensuiuir February, from Boston, accompanied by his son, John Quincy, then a boy of ten. The voyage was diversified by a chase and a storm, and the usual incidents of navigation. Adams, as we leai"n from his Diary, employed liimself iu observations of the disci- pline, the care of the men, and other poiuts of naval regulation for which he lunl an eye from his duties iu Congress. After a voyage of some six weeks, escaping the dreaded perils of the British cmisers, he was landed safely at Bordeaux. At Paris he took up his residence under the same roof with Dr. Franklin, and was shortly introduced by him to Vergenues and ]\[aurepas. The domestic diplomacy of the com- missioners was at first siirht more formidable than that of the court. They were quite at odds vnth one ano- ther. Lee with Franklin and Deane, the general mischiefmonger of the party. Adams saw the source of the difficulty in the mingling of diplomatic, commercial, and pecuniaiy transactions, and advised that these duties should be divideiL In accordance with his suggestions. Congress made the divi- sion, creating Franklin minister at Paris, and sending Arthur Lee to Madi-id Oddly euough, Adams, the mover of the resolution, was left out of the programme entirely. Finding nothing to do iu the way of govern- ment employ, ami iudisjjosed to be an idle obsen-er of the Parisians, thoutrh he envies his " venerable colleairue," as he calls Franklin, then seventy, his privileges with the ladies, and is rea- dily pleased with the sights about him, he is bent upon returning home, and an opportunity at length ottering itself in the departure of the French ambas- sador, the Chevalier de la Luzerne, he sets sail from Lorient, June 17, 1779. The frigate Sensible arrived at Bos- ton on the second of August; within a week he was elected by his towns- people, of Braintree, their delegate to the Convention to frame a Constitution for Massachusetts. The honor and responsibility of much of the work fell into his hands ; but T)efore it was com- pleted, he was again summoned to the foreign service of his country, as minis- ter to ncijotiate with Great Britain. Embarking in the Sensible, the French frigate in which he had returned, he was landed iu Gallitia, travelled thence through Spain to Bayoune, a journey of which his Diary gives an interesting ac- count, and an-ived at Paris in Februaiy, 1780. Obstacles were here thrown in the way of his negotiation with England by the minister, Vergenues, who wished to keep the foreign policy of America under his control iu subordination to French interests. The influence which the important aid rendered to America by the French government had given to her councils, occasioned much em- baiTassment in the adjustment of the treaty with England. It is a i>aiuful JOHN ADAMS. 41 portion of tlie Hstoiy of America, this conflict of intrigue and benefits, of love of America and hatred of Eng- land ; of Lafayette and Vergennes, smoothed over by the gratitude of Congress and the compliments of the monarchy, to break out into insidious plotting and open assault under the Revolution. This French imbroglio is henceforth to give John Adams a vast deal of trouble. Vergennes suspects his fidelity to the French anti- Anglican policy, and Adams, with Jay, thinks the Frenchman will sacrifice the inter- ests of America. The negotiations are finally brought to a close by a body of coromissioners charged with the work, embracing Adams, Franklin, Jay, Jefferson, and Laui'ens. In the meantime, Adams is busy in Holland, cultivating the Dutch capitalists, pre- paring the way for a loan and a treaty of alliance. That his coimtiy may be put upon a proper footing for these negotiations, he employs his pen in John Luzac's "Leyden Gazette," an organ of much service to America in the Revolution, and takes other means of disseminatinsc coiTect information. That his articles might have more authority, he sent the communication to be first published in an English journal, that they might be thence trans- ferred to the Dutch Gazette. He also drew up a series of replies to the inquii'ies of a gentleman of Holland touching American affairs, which have been often published, and which now appear in the collection of his writings with the title, "Twenty-six letters upon interesting subjects respecting the Re- volution of America." The prospects 6 of a loan were broken up for a time by the war between Holland and Eng- land, in which an alleged alliance with America, which did not exist, was made the pretence of wanton aggres- sion. But Adams, single-handed, per- severed. He was presently reinforced by special authority from home, and had the satisfaction at last, not only of procm'ing a valuable loan, but of secui'- ing the recognition of his country by Holland as an independent power. This treaty of alliance was completed in October, 1782. In the month following the conclu- sion of the negotiations in Holland, Adams, with Jay and Franklin, signed, at Paris, the preliminary articles of peace with England. He shared with Jay his suspicions of Vergennes ; and Fi'anklin, being led by their convic- tions, the responsibility was taken of canying on the negotiation independ- ently of France, and even contrary to the orders of Congress. The definitive treaty was not signed tiU the next September. When Adams had put his signatm'e to this important instrament, he immediately set out for England to regain his health, which had been much imj^aired by his confinement and labors and a recent severe illness. His visit at this time was unofficial. He appears to have enjoyed "with his usual zest the sights of the metropolis, in procuiing admission to which he found his coun- tiyman, Benjamin West, as influential as a prime minister. In the lobby of the House of Lords he had the gratifica- tion of hearing the gentleman usher of the black rod "roar out with a very loud voice, where is Mi-. Adams, Lord 42 JOHN ADAMS. Mansfield's friend ?" The painter, West, renionil)enn2' the denunciations of Mur- ray against his country in that same House of Lords, said to Adams, " this is one of the finest finishings in the picture of American Independence." Ilis next diplomatic em])loymont was as a coniuiissiouer with Franklin and Jefferson, to negotiate treaties of peace ^\nth the European nations. These engagements abroad having now assmned something of a permanent cha- racter, he Avas joined by INIis. Adams, whom he hastened from the Conti- nent, on her arrival in England, to con- duct to his residence at Auteuil, in the suburb of Paris, in the summer of 1784. In February, 1785, Congi-ess appoints John Adams the first American minister to Great Britain, and in May he is in- stalled in the English ca])ital. Friendly as his reception by the king apj)ears to have been, it was not followed by a fair reciprocity towards America. Peace had indeed been made, and the minister received, but Congress Avas honored by no British representative calling at her doors. The relations of the two countries Avere in fact yet of the most unsettled character ; questions of commercial intercoiu-se, of a restric- tive nature, were pressed against the Americans ; the Avestern posts Avere re- tained ; on the other hand, the unsettled relations of the States to one another at home, Avere at variance Avith a just and dignified foreign policy. After Aveather- ing for awhile these disheartening con- ditions, Adams, having rendered such services as he could to his country in a new loan negotiation Avith Holland and conferences Avith hia fellow-coimuis- sioner, Jefferson, at Paris, tired of the ineffwtual stniggle AN-ith difficulties and against })rejudice, at the close of 1787, requested hia recall. His time, hoAV- ever, had not been altogether taken up Avith these foreign affairs. His famous Avork, the " Defence of the Constitutions of Government of the United States of America," Avas produced at this period. It greAV out of some remarks by the Fi-ench philosopher, Turgot, on the Constitutions of the State in Avhich the adoption of English usages AA'as objected to, and preference given to a single authority of the nation or assembly over a balanced system of powers. Adams extended the AVork to three volumes, in Avhich he brought to bear upon the subject a vast amount of political reading, particidarly in refer- ence to the Italian Republics. The effect of this long discussion, like that of its sequel, the Discourses on Davila, is much Aveakened by its form, for Adams, Avith much sj)irit as a Avriter, is defective in his longer Avorks in manner and method. If his style of Avriting had been foimed in early life, like that of Franklin and ^Madison, upon the reading of the Spectator instead of the declamations of Bolingbroke, in so far as study can modify the genius of a man, his Avorks would have been better for the training. John Adams loses as much as Franklin gains by his way of putting a thing in his AATitings. The spring of 1788 restored him acrain to hia native land. It Avas the period of the adojition of the Federal Constitution, and a\ hen that instrument went fully into effect in the meeting of the first Congress at Ncav York, he was JOHN ADAMS. 43 found to he cliosen Vice-President, re- ceiving the gi'eatest number of votes of tlie electors next to Washington. He received thirty-four out of sixty-nine, the vote of Washincrton beins: unani- mous. He held this office, presiding in the Senate, during both teims of "Wash- ington's administration, to which he gave active and often important assist- ance. In 1*797, he succeeded to the Presidency by a vote of seventy-one over the sixty-eight of Jefferson. He found the country in imminent danger of a conflict with France. The prin- ciples of an English or French alliance were the tests of the j^arty politics of the times. Jay's Treaty, sanctioning the neutrality policy of Washington, had indeed been adopted by Congress, but after a straggle which left many elements of opposition. The full force of these was directed against the Federal party, of which Adams was now the official representative. He was destined to receive aid, however, from an unexpected quarter. The as- sumptions and aggressions of the French Directoiy, on the arrival of Marshall and Geny, as negotiators, develojied a new phase of villainy in a contemptuous effort to bribe the Ame- rican Commissioners. This insult at length opened the eyes and roused the spirit of the nation. Adams was for awhUe exceedingly poj)ular ; addresses were poured in upon him, the country armed, commissioned a na^y, Washing- ton was again called into the field, and with Hamilton at his side, arranged means of military defence. Thus far he was with the strong anti-Gallican Federal pai-tj. He was thought, how- ever, to fall off from it in some of his measures for reconciliation with France, which, however, by the turn which j)laced Napoleon in authority, had a successful issue ; some of the acts of his administration, as the Alien and Sedi- tion laws, were poweiful instrmnents with an unscrupulous opposition, and he had, moreover, to bear the disaffec- tion of Hamilton. There was little liberality or charity for defects of taste and temper. The embaiTassments aris- ing from these things clouded his administration, which closed with a single term, and the obstinate struggle which resulted in the election of Jeffer- son. A private affliction, in the loss of his second son, Charles, came also at this moment, to darken the shades of his retirement. He had no heart to ■\\dtness the inaugnration of his suc- cessor, and left Washington abraptlj for Quincy. His biographer tells us, as an index of his privacy, that while the year before his letters could be counted by thousands, those of his first year after were scarcely a hundred. Like Jay's protracted age at Bedford, his was a long retirement, but Adams had not in his disposition the cjuietude of Jay. The restlessness, the activity of pm'suit which had driven the poor New Eng- land boy to the thrones of monarchs, and had seated him in the Presidency of the Republic, was not to subside without a mm-mm-. The old statesman enjoyed a vicarious public life in the rapid advancement of his son in the councils of his country to the Presi- dency; the irritations of controversy lent their aid to agitate the torpor of 44 JOHN ADAMS. political nogloot, in iLe series of letters viiulicatiug liis eourse, wliieli he ]>iili- lisbeil iu tlie "Boston Patriot;" while Le occasiomilly revived for himself and the eye of posterity, past scenes of his histor}- in an Autol)i(\<::ra|)hy. In 1818, in his eighty-third year, his wife, his " dearest friend," the gentle and ac- complished, one of the mothers of America, full of the sweetest and grand- est memories of the past, was taken from him. Ilis last public service was in occasional attendance at the Conven- tion of Massachusetts for the formation of a new Constitution, when he was eighty-live. lie ■was not ahle to say, but he made his wish known, that the new instrument should oqiress perfect religious tolerance. It was the liberal creed of his youth ; it had been grow- iniz strouiTcr with his aire. I\eturnin>' to his eai'ly friendship, he convsponded with JelTerson. The two venerable fathers of the Kepublie, Jefferson at the age of eighty-three, John Adams at that of ninety, died together on the birthday of the nation, Jidy 4tL, lS2t>. A few days before his death, the orator of his native town of Quiucy, where he lay in his home, called upon Adams for a toast, to be presented at the approach- ing auniversixry. " Independence for- ever !" was tht' reply. As the senti- ment was delivered at the bampiet, amidst ringing plaudits, the soul of the dying patriot was passing from earth to eternity. "We have brought the long and busy life to a close, from boyhood to four- score and ten. A nation has been bom in that time, and one of its foimdera, after reaching its sunnnit of authority, has seen his sou at its head. "We have the fullest revelations of this man. It was liis passion not only to bo em- jiloyed in great events, Init to write down the least of himself. "We have his books, learned tomes, his official and pei-sonal Corresjiondence, his Reminis- cences, his Diary, his Autol)iography, the domestic letters of his wife, lie was bent ujion declaring himself in eveiy form. AVhat is the impression ? Ujion the whole, of a man of active conscientious mind, emjiloyed from youth in study and thought ; diligent in affairs ; lacking some of the jutlicious lU'ts of the writer and statesman, which might have better set off his fair fiimo with the world. The fonnalive ])eriod of his life, his early professional train- ing, has a better lesson for the youth of his countiy than tliat of Franklin, for it has fewer errata. Egotism is sometimes ap])areiit, but it led him to know as well as proclaim himself. Ilis sensibility may occasionally be taken for vanity, but it is ofteuer the indica- tion of true feeling. Had he been more cautious, he might have possessed less hcai't. He had his Aveaknesses. Ho was passionate, we are told, but forgiving ; serious iu manner, but capa- ble of genial relaxation; of adisposiition answering to his friuue and look, with more of solidity than elevation ; some- thing of the sensual, relieved by a touch of humor, about him ; nothing of the idesilist : a broad, capacious head, capa- ble of assertion and action. THOMAS JEFFERSON. In his AutoTno.^apliy, written to- wards the close of his life, the author of the Declaration of Independence, thinking doubtless his new political career a better passport to fame with posterity than any conditions of an- cestry in the old society which lie had superseded, while he could not he in- sensible to the worth of a respectal)le family history, says of the Randolphs, from Avhom he was descended on the mother's side, "they trace their pedi- gree far back in England and Scotland, to which let every one ascribe the f:iith and merit he chooses." Whatever value may be set by his biographers upon an ancient lineage, they cannot 'Overlook the fact — most important in its influence upon his future history — that he was introduced by his family relationshix)3 at birth into a sphere of life in Vii'ginia, which gave him many social advantages. The leveller of the old aristocracy was by no means a self- made man of the people, struggling up- ward through difficiilty and adversity. His father, Peter Jefferson, belonged to a family originally from Wales, which had been among the first settlers of the colony. In 1G19, one of the name was seated in the Assembly at Jamestown, the first legislative Vjody of Europeans, it is said, that ever met in the New World. The particular account of the fiunily begins with the grandfather of Thomas Jefferson, who owned some lands in Chestei-field County. His third son, Peter, establisheil himself aa a planter on certain lands which he had " patented," or come into possession of by purchase, in Albemarle County, in the vicinity of Carter's Mountain, whei'e the Ptivanua makes its way through the Range; and about the time of his settlement man-led Jane, daughter of Isham Randolph, of Dungeness, in Goochland County, of the eminent old Viriiinia race, to which allusion has already been made, a stock which has extended its branches through eveiy department of worth and excellence in the State. Isham Raudoljjh was a man of talent and education, as v.e\\ as noted for the hosj;)itarity practised by every gentleman of his wealthy posi- tion. Ills memory is gratefully pre- sei"ved in the correspondence of the naturalists, Collinson and Bartram. The latter was commended to his care in one of his scientific tours, and en- joyed his hearty welcome. Ills daugh- ter, Jane, we are told, "possessed a most amiable and affectionate dlsjjosi- tion, a lively, cheerful temper, and a great fund of humor," qualities which had their Infinence upon her son's char- 45 46 THOMAS JEFFERSON. acter. Her raarriage to Peter Jefferson took jilace at the age of niiietei'ii, and tlie fruit of this uniou, tlie third child and fii-st son, was Thomas, the sulyect of this sketch. He was boru at the new family location at Shadwell, April 2 (old stylo), 1743. Peter Jefferson, the father, was a model man for a frontier settlement, tall in stature, of extraordinary strength of l)ody, cajialjle of enduring any fatigue in the Anlderness, ^\•ith cor- responding health and vigor of mind. He was educated as a surveyor, and in this capacity engaged in a govern- ment commission to draw the Ixnindary line between Virginia and North Caro- lina. Two years before his death, which occuiTed suddenly in his fiftieth year, in I7r)7, he was chosen a member of the House of Burfjesses. His son was then only fourteen, but he had already derived many impressions from the instmctions and examjile of his father, aiid considerable resemblance is traced between them. Mr. llandall, in Lis biography, notices the inhoi-itance of physical strength, of a certain plain- ness of manners, and honest love of independence, even of a fondness for reading — for the stalwart sm-veyor Avas accustomed to solace his leisure with his Spectator and his Shakspeare. The son was early sent to school, and, before his father's death, was instructed in the elements of Greek, and Latin, and French, by Mr. Douglass, a Scottish clergyman. It was his jxarent's dying wish that he should receive a good classical education ; and the seed pi'ov- ed to be sown in a good sod. The les- sons which the youth had already re- ceived, were resumed under the excel- lent instruction of the Rev, Jamca Maury, at his residence, and thence, in 17G0, the pupil passed to William and Mary College, lie was now in his eighteenth year, a tall, thin youth, of a rudd)'' conij)k'xion, his hair inclining to red, an adej)t in manly and rural sports, a good dancer, something of a musician, full of vivacity. It is worth noticing, that the youth of Jefferson Avas of a hearty, joyous character. Williamsburg, also, the seat of the college, was then anything but a scho- lastic hermitage for the mortification of youth. In winter, during the session of the court and the sittings of the colonial legislature, it Avas the focus of provincial fashion and gaiety ; and between study and dissipation the ardent young Jefferson had before him the old problem of good and evil not always leading to the choice of virtue. It is to the credit of his manly percep- tions and healthy tastes, even then, that while he freely partook of the amusements incidental to his station and time of life, he kept his eye stead- ily on loftier things. "It was my great good fortune," he says in his Autobio- graphy, " and what 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 lil^eral mind." Hia instructions, communicated not only in college hours, but in familiar jiei-sonal intuuacy, warmed the yoimg student ■with his first, as it became his constant, THOMAS JITPPERSON. 47 passion for natural science. This liappy instructor also gave a course of lec- tures in ethics and rhetoric, whicli were doubtless equally profitable to Ms young pupil in the opening of his mind to knowledge. He had also an especial fondness for mathematics, " reading oif its processes with the facility of common discourse." He sometimes studied, in his second year, fifteen hours a day, taking exercise in a brisk walk of a mile at evening. Jeflferson was only two years at college, but his education was happily continued in his immediate entrance upon the study of the law with George Wythe, the memorable chancellor of Virginia, of after days, to whom he was introduced by Dr. Small, and of whose personal qualities — his temper- ance and suavity, his logic and elo- quence, his disinterested public virtue — ^he wrote a worthy eidogium. The same learned friend also made him acquainted with Governor Fauquier, then in authority, " the ablest man," says Jefferson, " who ever filled the ofl5.ce." At his courtly table the foui* met together in familiar and liberal conversation. It was a privilege to the youth of the fii'st importance, bringing him, at the outset, into a sphere of public life which he was destined afterwards, in Europe and America, so greatly to adorn. He passed five years in the study of the law at Williamsbm'g, and, without intermitting his studies, at his home at Shadwell. Nor, diligent as he was, is it to be supposed that his time was altogether spent in study. He yet found leisui'e, as his early telltale cor- respondence with his friend Page, after- wards Governor of Virginia, shows, to harbor a fond attachment for a fair " Belinda," as he called her, reversing the letters of the name and writing them in Greek, or playing upon the word in Latin. The character of the young lady. Miss Rebecca Bui-well, of an excellent family, does credit to his attachment, for it was marked by its religious enthusiasm, but nothing came of it beyond a boyish disappointment.^ In IVGY he was introduced to the bar of the General Court of Virginia by his friend Mr, Wythe, and imme- diately entered on a successful career of jjractice, inteiTupted only by the lievolution. His memorandum books, which he kept minutely and diligently as Washington himself, show how extensively he was employed in these seven years; while the dii'ections which he gave in later life to young students, exhibit a standard of application, which he had no doubt followed himself, of the utmost proficiency. His "suflScient groundwork " for the study of the law includes a liberal coui'se of mathe- matics, natui'al jihilosophy, ethics, rhet- oric, politics, and history. His pur- suit of the science itself ascended to the antique foimts of the profes- sion. He was a well-trained, skill- ful lawyer, an adept in the casuis- try of legal questions — more distin- guished, however, for his ability in • Mr. John Eaten Cooke, of Virginia, author of the eminently judicious biography of Jefferson in Appleton'a new Cyclopjedia, has sketched this love affair in a plea- sant paper on the " Early years of Thomas Jefl'erson." The "Page" correspondence is printed in Professor Tucker's life of Jefferson. 48 THOMAS JEFFERSON. fti^iraent than for his power as an advocate. IIo was tlirougliout life little of an orator, and we shall iind hiiu hereafter, in scenes where elo- quence was peculiarly felt, more power- ful in the committee i-oom than in debate. His first entrance on politicjJ life was at the age of twenty-six, in 17G9, when 111' was sent to the House of Burges.>*es from the county of Albe- marle, the entrance on a troul)h)UH time in the consideration of national griev- ances, and we find him engaged at once in preparing the resolutions and adcbess U^ the irovernor's messaire. Tlu' House, in reply to the recent declarations of Parliament, reasserted the American principles of taxation and petition, and other questions in jeopanly, and, in consetpience, was pi"omptly dissolved by Lord Botetourt. The members, the next day, George Washington among them, met at the Ealeigh tavern, and pledged themselves to a non-importa- tion agreement. The next yeai*, on the conflagration of the house at Shadwell, where he had his home with his mother, he took up his residence at the adjacent "^lonti- ct'llo," also on his own paternal grounds, in a portion of the edifice so fmnous afterwards as the dwelling-place of his matmvr ye^u-s. Unhappily, many of his early papei"s, his books and those of his father, were burnt in the destruc- tion of his old home. In 1772, on New Year's Day, he took a step farther in domestic life, in marriage with Mrs. Martha Skelton, a widow of twenty- three, of much beauty and many win- ning accomplishments, the daughter of John Wayles, a lawj'er of skill and many good qualities, at whose death, the following year, the pair came into possession of a considerable projierty. In this circumstance, and in the manage- ment of his landed estate, we may trace a certain resemblance in the for- tunes of the occupants of Monticello and Mount Vernon. Political afl'airs were now again call- ins; for lesrislative attention. The re- newed claim of the British to send persons for state olVences to England, brought forwaitl in Ehode Island, awakened a strong feeling of resistance among the Vii'ginia delegates, a portion of whom, inchuliug Jetlerson, met at the Ealeigh Tavern, and drew up reso- lutions creating a Committee of Coitc- sj)ondence to watch the proceedings of Parliament, and keej) up a communica- tion with the Colonies. Jell'ersou was appointed to oiler the resolutions in the House, but declined in favor of his brother-in-law, Dabney Can*. They were passed, and a committee — all notable men of the Revolution — was appointed, including Pe}i:on Randolph, Richard Henry Lee, Patrick Henry, and others, ending with Thomas Jellerson. The Earl of Duumore then, following the example of his predecessor, dis- solved the House, "We may here ]>ause, with ^Mr. Jeffer- son's latest biogra2)her, to notice the friendship of Jetlei-son with CaiT. It belonged to their school-boy days, and had gained strength during their jieriod of legal study, when they had kept company together in the shades of Monticello, and made nature the com- panion of their thoughts. They had THOMAS JEFFERSON. 49 tLcir fiivorito rustic seat tliere beneath an oak, and there, each promised the other he would buiy tlie survivor. Tlie time soon came, a month after the scene at the Rahiiifli Tavern we have just narrated, when Can*, at the age of thirty, was fatally stricken hy fever. The friends now rest together in the spot where their youthful summer days were passed. CaiT had been eight years married to Jefferson's sister, and he left her with a family of si.x children. His ])rothcr-in-law took them all to his home. The sous, Peter and Dabney, who rose high in the Virginia judiciary, have an honored place in the Jefferson Correspondence, calling forth many of the statesmen's best letters. The whole family was educated and provided for by him ; and here again, in these adopted children, we may recognize a re8em?)lance to Mount Vernon with its young Custises. The new Legislature met, as usual, the next year, and, roused by the pas- sage of the Boston Port Bill, a few members, says Jeffei'son, including Henry and himself, resolved to place the Assembly " in the line with Massa- chusetts." The expedient they hit upon was a fast day, which, by the help of some old Puritan precedents, they " cooked up " and placed in the hands of a grave member to lay before the House. It was passed, and the Gover- nor, "as usual," dissolved the Assembly. The fast was apj)ointed for th(i first of June, the day on which the obnoxious bill was to take efl'ect, and there was one man in Virginia, at least, who kept it. We may read in the Diary of George Washington, of that date, 7 " Went to church, and fasted all day."' Tlie dissolved Assembly again met at the lialeigh, and decided upon a Convention, to be elected by the people of the several counties, and held at Williamsburg, so that two bodies had to be chosen, one to assemble in the new House of Burgesses, the other out of the reach of government control. The same members, those of the pre- vious House, were sent for both. Jef- ferson again represented the freeholders of Alljemarle. The insti-uctions which the county gave, supposed from his pen, assert the radical doctrine of the inde- pendence of the Colonial Legislatures, as the sole fount of authority in new laws. The Williamsburg Convention met and apj^ointed delegates to the first General Congress. JefTei'son was detained from the Assembly by illness, but he forwarded a draught of instruc- tions for the delegates, which was not adopted, but ordered to be printed by the members. It bore the title, "A Summary View of the Rights of British America," reached England, \vas taken up by the opposition, and, with some interpolations from Burke, passed through several editions." Though in ' Mrs. Kirkland's Meraoira of Washington, p. 220. ' Tlio pamphlet took the ground, that the relation be- tween Great Britain and her Colonics was exactly the same as that of England and Scotland after tlie accession of James, and until tlie Union, or as Hanover then stood, linked onlv by the crown. An illustration was also drawn from the Saxon settlement of Britain, " that mother coun- try " never having asserted any claim of authority over her emigrants. The trading and manufacturing repres- sions of England in particular were dwelt upon, with other pertinent topics of reform. The whole was ex- pressed in terse and pointed language. He would remind George III. that " Kings are the servants, not the propri- 50 THOMAS JEFFERSON". advance of the jiulgment of the people, who are slow in coming \ip to the prin- ciples of great refonus, thia " View " \mdoul)teclly assisted to form that judgment. But so slow was the pro- gress of opinion at the outset, that, at the moment when this jiajjer was -\\Tit- ten, only a few leaders, such as Samuel Adams and Patrick Ileniy, were capa- ble of appreciating it. A few years afterwards, and it would have been ac- cepted as a truism. The country was not yet ready to receive its virtual Decla- ration of Independence. The people had to be pricked on by fui-ther out- rages. Theoretical rebellion they had no eye for ; they must feel to be con- vinced. Jeflerson's paper was in ad- vance of them, by the boldness of its historical positions, and the plainness of its language to His Majesty — yet its aiTay of grievances must have enlight- ened many minds. The Congress of 111 i met but adopt- ed milder forms of petition, better adapted to the moderation of their sentiments. Meanwhile committees of safety ai'e organizing in Virginia, and Jefferson heads the list in his county. He is also in the second Virginia Convention at Eichmond, listening to Patrick Henry's ardent appeal to the God' of Battles — " I repeat it, sir, we must fight!" The Assembly adopted the view so far as preparing means of defence, and that the students of events in ^Massachusetts began to think meant war. The delegates to the first Con- gress were elected to the second, and ctors of the people." " The whole nrt of government," lie maiolAiu:), " consitils iu the u I of beiug honesL" in case Peyton Randolph should be called to ]>reside over the House of Burgesses, Thomas Jcllcrson was to be his successor at Pliiladeljihia. The House met, Randolph was elected, and Jefterson departed to fill his place, liear- miography. The draft thus prejiared, with a few verbal corrections from Franklin and Adams, was submitted to the House on the twenty-eightk On the second of July, it was taken up in debate, and ear- nestly battled for three days, when on the evenino; of the last — the evei"- memorable foui'th of July — it was finally reported, agreed to, and signed by every member exce])t Mr. Dickinson. Some alterations were made in the original draft — a phrase, here and there, which seemed superfluous, was loj^ped off; the King of Great Britain was spared some additional severities, and a stirring passage arraigning his Majesty for his complicity in the slave trade then carried on, a " jiiratical wai-fare, the opprobrium of infidel powers," was entirely exscinded — the denunciation beina; thought to strike at home as well as abroad. The people of England were also relieved of the censure cast upon them for electing tyrannical Par- liaments. With these omissions, the paper stands substantially as first re- ported by Jefferson. It is intimately related to his previous resolutions and repoi'ts in Virginia and Congress, and whatever merit may be attached to it, alike in its spirit and language, belongs to him. Mr. Jefferson was elected to the next session of Congress ; but, pleading the state of his family affair's, and desii'ous of taking part in the formative mea» sures of government now arising in Virginia, he was permitted to resign. He declined, also, immediately after, an aj^pointment by Congress as fellow- minister to France with Dr. Franklin. In October, he took his seat in the Vir- ginia House of Delegates, and com- menced those efforts of reform with which his name will always be identi- fied in his native State, and which did not end till its social condition was thoroughly revolutionized. His fiirst great blow was the introduction of a bill abolishing entails, which, with one subsequently brought in, cutting off the right of primogeniture, levelled the great landed aristocracy which had 62 THOMAS .TFI IKRSON. hitherto govcrnod in the country. He was also, about the time ot'tlie i)assage of this aot, eivateil one of the committee for the general revision of the laws, his active associates lieiiiir Edmund Pen- dleton and George Wythe. This vast work >vaa not comj)letod by the com- mittee till June, 1770, an interval of more than two years. Among the one hundred and si.xteen new bills rejx)rted, j>erhaj»s the most important was one, the work of JelTei-son, that for Esta- blishing Keligioua Freedom, which abolished tythes, and left all men free " to profess, and by ai"gumeut to main- tain, their oj)lnions in matters of reli- gion, and that the same shall in no wise diminish, enhwge, or all'ect their civil ca]>acitics." A concurrent act ])rovided for the preservation of the glel>e lands to church mcnd)ers. Jeflersou was not, therefore, in this instance the originator of the after sj>oliation of tlie ecclesiasti- cal iii-oiH'i-ty. Of this matter Jlr. Ran- dall says: "Whether Mr. Jefferson changed his mind, and kept np Avith the demands (>f poj)ular feeling in that ])artii\dar, we have no means of know- ing. We remember uo utterance of his on that subject, after reporting the bills we have described."* Another impor- tant subject fell to his charge in the Btatutes affecting education. lie pro- posed a system of free common school education, planned in tlie minutest de- tails ; a method of reorganization i'or AVilliam and !Mary College, and j)ri.>- vision lt)r a froo State Library. There •was also ;i liill limiting the death pen- alty to murder and treason. In his ' Lite of/cSenoa, I. 838, account of the reception of this " Re- vision," Mr. Jefft-rson records : " Some bills were taken out, occasionally, from time to time, and ])a.ssed ; but the main body of the WH)ik was not enteicd on by the Legislature until after the gene- ral peace, in 1785, when, by the un- weaiied exertions of Mr. Madison, in o])position to the endless (piil)bles, chicaiTeries, perversions, vexations, and delays of law-3i'rs and demilawyers, most of the bills were passed by the Legislature, with little alteration." In 177i>, j\Ir. Jellei-son succeeded Patrick Henry as Governor of Virginia, falling upon a period of administration reiiuiring the military defence of the State, less suited to his talents than the reformini' leirislatit>n in which he had been recently engaged. Indeeil, he modestly confesses this in the few words he devtvtes to the sid)ject in his Auto- biogia})hy, A\'here he sa}s, referring to history for tJiis jx>rtion of liis career : " From a belief that, under the pressmt? of the invasion imiler which we were then laboring, the ])ublic wimld have more conlidence in a military chief, and that the military connnander, being invested with the civil jiower also, both might be wielded with more energy, pronjptitude and etVect for the defence of the State, I resigned the administra- tion at the end of my second yeai", and General Nelson was appointeil to suc- cei'd me." His disposition to the arts of jx'ace, in mitigation of the calamities of war, had been ])reviously sho>vn in his treatment of the Saratoga prisonei-s of war, who were (juartered in his neighborhood, near Charlottesville. Jle added to the comforts of the men, THOMAS JEFFERSON. 63 and eirtertaiued the officers at Lis table, and wlien it was proposed to remove them to less advantageous quarters, he remonstrated with Governor Ileniy in their favor. The eai'ly part of Jefter- Bon's administration was occupied with various duties connected with the war, and it was only at the end, in the inva- sions hj Arnold and Phillips, in 1780, that he felt its pressure. When Eieh- mond was invaded and plundered, he was obliged to reconnoitre the attack, in his movements about the vicinity, without ability of resistance. The finances and resources of defence of the State were in the most lamentalde con- dition, and it remains a question for the historian to conjecture what degree of military energy, in a Governor, would have l)een effectual to create an army on the spur of the moment, and extort means for its support. The depreda- tions of Arnold continued till the arri- val of Cornwallis, and before his exit from the scene of these operations at Yorktown, an incident occurred which has been sometimes told to Jefferson's disadvantage, though without any ap- parent i-eason. The famous Colonel Tarleton, celebrated for the rapidity of his movements, was dispatched to secure the members of the Legislature, then assembled at Charlottesville. Warning was given, and the honorable gentlemen escaped, when it Avas pro- posed to capture the Governor at his neighboring residence at Monticello. He however, also had intelligence, per- ceiving the approach of the enemy from his mountain height, and sending his wife and chikben in advance to a place of safety, rode off himself as the troopers approached to Carter's Moun- tain. At this time his tenn of service as Governor had expii-ed a few days. Happily, the officer who thus visited his house was a gentleman, and his papers, books, and other property, were spared. His estate at Elk Hill, on James Eiver, did not fare so well. Its crops were destroyed, its stock taken, and the slaves driven off to perish, almost to a man, of fever and suffering in the British camp. Losses like these he could bear with equanimity ; not so the inquiiy which received some countenance from the legislature into his conduct during the invasion. He was grieved that such an implied censure should be even thought of, and prepared himself to meet it in person ; Init when he pre- sented himself at the next session, con- senting to an election for the express purpose, there was no one to oppose him, and resolutions of respect and con- fidence took the place of the threatened attack. He had another cause of despondence at this time, which no act of the le2;islature could cure. His wife, to whom he was always tenderly at- tached, was daily groAving more feeble in health, and gradually approaching her grave. She died in September, 1Y82 — "torn from him by death," is the expressive language he placed on her simple monument. The illness of his wife had prevented his acceptance of an appointment in Europe, to negotiate terms of peace immediately after the termination of his duties as governoi\ A similar office was now tendered him — the third prof- fer of the kind by Congress— and, look 64 THOMAS JEFFERSON. ing upon it as a relief to his distracted mind as well as a U'(e, arising from tlie (litliculties then e.\istln<; of crossincj the ocean, intelli- genco was received of the jirogress of the peace negotiations, ami (he voyage was al)andonod. He was thi'ii i-etuined to Confess, taking his seat iu Noveraher, 1783, at Trenton, the day of the adjournment to Annapolis, where one of his first duties, the following month, was as chairman of the Committee which jjrovided the arrangements for the reception of Wash- ington on Ins resignation of his com- nianiL Tlie ceri'mouy tot)lv ])hK'e in puhlic, " the re])rcsentatives of the sovereignty of the Union" remaining seated and covered ^vhill• the company in the gallery were standing and un- covered. After Wasliiiigtoirs address and delivery of his commission, the President replii'il in an answer attri- buted to Jetferson.* Eulogy of Wash- ington always fell ha])pily from his pen. " Having defended the standard of liberty in this new world," Avas one of its sentences: " havincr tausrht a lesson useful to those who intlict and those who feel o])i)ression, you retire from the great theatre of action with the blessings of your fellow-citizens: but the glory of your virtues will not terminate with your military com- mand; it will continue to animate re- motest ages." Jelferson was accustomed to speak of Washington with eloquence nnd admiration, sullciing no political > RukUD's XMe of JrlTrraon, I. 392. disagreements to diminish his historic greatness. Probably the best character ever drawn of the Father of his Couutiy, was written by him, in a letter from IMonticello, addressed to Dr. Walter Jones, in 1814. The presence of Jefl'erson in any legislative body was always soon felt, and we accordingly find him in the Congress of 1781, making his mark in the debates on the ratification of the treaty of peace, his suggestions on the establishment of a money unit and a national coinage, which were subse- (jueiitly ado])ted — he gave ns the deci- mal system and the denomination of the cent ; the cession of the North- western Territory by Virginia, with his report for its government, jiroposing names for its new States, and the ex- clusion of slavery after the year 1800: and taking an active part iu the ar- rangements for commercial treaties with foreign nations. In the last, he was destined to be an actor as well as designer — Congress, on the seventh of May, ajipointing him to act in Europe with Adams and Franklin, in accom- ])llshiiig these negotiations. This time he was enabled to enter upon the scene abroad, which had always invited his imagination by its prosj)ects of new observations in art and science, society and government, and intimacy with learned and distlniiulshed iiu'ii. A visit to Europe to an ordinary Ameri- can in those days, was like passing from a school to a university; but Jell'ersou, thouirh he found the means of know- ledge unfailing wherever he went, being no ordinary man but a very extraordi- nary one, carried with him to Europe i THOMAS JEFFERSON. 55 more than he could receive there. In the science of government he was tlie instructor of the most learned ; and, in that matter, the relations of the old world and the new were reversed. America, even then, with much to learn before her system was perfected, was the educator of Europe. Jefferson took with him his oldest daughter, Martha — his family consist- ing, since the death of his wife, of three youBg daughters and the adopted childreu" of his friend, Carr — with whom he reached Paris, by the way of England, in August. There he found Dr. Franklin, with whom he entered on the duties of his mission, and whose ftiendship he experienced in an introduction to the brilliant philosophi- cal society of the cajiital. His position, also, at the outset, was nuich strength- ened with these eavans by a small edition which he printed and privately circulated of his " Notes on Virginia." This work had for some time existed in manuscript, having been wi'itten in Virginia, in 1781, during a period of confinement, when he was disal)led from active exertion in consequence of a fall from his horse, in r(;j)]y to certain queries which had been addressed to him by the French minister, M. Marbois, who had been instructed by his govern- ment to procure various statistical in- formation in regard to the country. As it had always been a custom of Jeffer- son to note everything that came to his knowledge relating to topics of national welfare, it was an easy task to supply the required answers from his note- books. In this way, the " Notes " were written and communicated to the minister ; and, as these queries were of constant recun-ence, relating, as they did, to a new state of things wliich provoked inipiby, the author kept a copy of the x'ej^lies for his own use and for that of his friends. He would have pi-inted the little work in America, but was deterred by the expense. Finding this could be done at a fourth of the cost in Paris, he now carried the inten- tion out. The volume was (iarefully distributed — the writer thinking its opinions on the suljject of slavery and of the American Constitution might in-itate the minds of his countrymen — ■ but a year or two later, a copy, on the death of its owner, got into the hands of a bookselhir, who caused it to be hastily translated by the Abb6 Morel- let, into French, and in this state sent it to Jefl'ei'son on the eve of puldica- tion. He could correct only its worst blunders, and the work being now before the world, he thought it but an act of justice to himself to yield to the request of a London puljlishcr, to issue This is the history of the The book itself, as a valuable original contriliu- tion to the kaowlcMlge of an interesting portion of the country, at a transition period, has been always treasured. Its observations on natural history, and de- scriptions of scenery, are of value ; it has much which Avould now be called ethnological, particularly in reference to the Indian and the black man; while, in style and ti-eatment, it may be studied as a sucr2restive index of the mind and tastes of the author. In the summer of 1785, Dr. Frank- lin took his departiu*e homeward, retir- the original famous " Notes on Virginia." 66 THOMAS JEFFERSON. ing from tlio ombassy he had so long antl honorably filled, and Ji-flVrson roniaini'd as liis sucoessor. lln was four yoars in this position, covering the important opening era of the Revolu- tion, including tho assembly of the States General, of all the movements connected with which he was a diligent observer and friendly sympathizer with the reforniers. His official duties embraced various regulations of trade and commerce, the admission of Ameri- can products into France on favorable terms ; a fruitless attempt ■with Adams at neijotiations vr\i\i Ensrland, which left an imfavorable impressit)n of the mother country on his mind, and the consideration of the Barbary ly your knowledge to the softenincr of their beds, or the throwing a morsel of meat into their kettle of vegetables." The return of Jefferson to the United States In the autumn of 1780, grew out of his desire to restore his daughters — a second one had joined him in Em'ope, the third died during his absence — to education in America, and to look after his private aftairs. A leave of absence was accordingly gi'anted him, with the expectation of a return to the French capital. Before reach 1 ng home, he found a letter from President "NVasliiugton awaiting him, tendering him the oflice of Secretary of State in the new govern- THOMAS JEFFERSON. 57 ment. The proposition was received with manifest reluctance, hut with a candid reference to the will of the Presi- dent. The latter smoothed the way, by representing the duties of the office as less laborious than had been con- ceived, and it was accepted. At the end of March, 1790, he joined the other membei'S of the administration at New York. Then began that separa- tion in politics, which, gradually rising to the dignity of party organization, ])ecame known as Federalism and Re- puljlicanism. At the present day, it is difficult to appreciate the state of Jef- ferson's mind towards Hamilton and other members of the administration ; his distrust of their movements, and apparently fixed belief that some mon- archical designs were entei-tained by them. If there were any offenders in this way, they were Hamilton and Jay ; but it is difficult to credit that either of them entertained any serious inten- tions of the kind, however naturally they might disti-ust theories of self- government. In fact, there were "fears of the brave," if not "follies of the wise," on both sides. Each party had much to learn, which experience in the practical working of the government only could teach. It was easy then to exaggerate trifles, as it is unprofitable now, in the face of broad results, to revive them. There was a jjractical question also before Congress, which seems to have affected the equani- mity of Jefferson, that namely of the assumption of the State debts. Hamil- ton was the advocate of this measure, which met Avith serious opposition. Jeffei'son was inclined to oppose it, as 8 an addition to the financial power of the Secretary of the Treasury; which rose in his eyes as an evil of still greater magnitude when Hamilton's proposi- tion came up of a national bank. This institution, in his distrust of paper money, he considered a fountain of de- moralization. To these causes of sepa- ration in opinion was in no long time added the pregnant controversy of the good or evU, the wisdom or folly of the French Revolution, dramng with it a train of conduct at home, when the neutrality question became the subject of practical discussion. Jefferson ia thought to have lent some suppoi't to the annoyances of the time tmder which Washington suffered, in his patronage of the poet Freneau, who irritated the President by sending him his news- pap)er filled with attacks on the sup- posed monarchical tendencies of the day. When the insolence, however, of Genet and his advocates reached its height, the case was so clear that Jeffer- son employed himself in his office in the State Department in the most vigor- ous protests and denunciation. What- ever opinions he might entertain of men or measures, on a question of practical conduct, he regarded only the honor and welfare of his countiy. He retired at the end of 1793, with the friendship and respect of Washington unljroken. The jjubllc questions which arose during his secretaryship, which we have alluded to, though the noisiest on the page of hlstoiy, are perhaps not the most significant of Jefferson's career. His services, in many laborious matters of investigation and negotiation, were constant ; with England, in regard to 58 THOMAS JEFPBRSON. conditions o£ the treaty of peace; with Spain, in reference to her chiiras at the South, and the navigation of the Mis- sissippi — a question Avhich he was so happily to bring to a tcnuination in his Presidential administration ; at home, in his efforts for trade and com- merce, exhibited in his various indus- trial reports. The simplicity of his retirement at INIonticello has been questioned by those who have been accustomed to look upon the man too exclusively in the light of a politician ; but the evi- dence brought fonvard by his latest biograj)her, ]\Ir. Randall, shows that the passion, while it lasted, was genu- ine. Jefferson, with all his coolness and external command, had a peculiar sensitiveness. In fact, it is only a super- ficial view of his character which could overlook this element lying beneath. A speculative moralist must feel as well as think, and the world can no more get such reflections on life and conduct — whatever we may think of their ab- solute value — as are thickly sown in his MTitings, -without inner emotion, than fiiiit can be gathered without the delicate organization of the plant which bears it. Such grapes are not plucked from thorns. In Jefferson's heart there was a fund of sensiljility, freely ex- hibited in his private intercourse with his family. lie was unwearied in the cares and solicitudes of his daughters, his adopted children, and their alli- ances. In reading the letters which passed between them, the politician is forgotten : we see only the man and the father. Besides these pleasing aux- ieties, he hud the responsibilities and resources of several considerable plan- tations; his five thousand acres about INIonticello alone, as he managed them with their novel iiu])rovements and home manufacturing operations, afford- ing occupation enough for a single mind. He had, too, his l)ooks and favoi'ite studies in science and literature. There were, probably, few i)ublic men in the country who like him read the Greek di'amatists in the original Anth pleasm'e. What wonder, then, that he honestly sought retirement from the labors and struggles of political life, becoming every day more embittered by the rising s])irit of j)arty ? That the retirement was really sueh, we have the best jiroof in an incidental remaik in one of his letters wj'itten in 1802 — the recluse was at the time in the Presi- dency — to his daughter ]\Iaria, then married to Mr. Eppes. Fancying he saw in her a reluctance to society, he rebukes the feeling, adding, "I can speak from experience on this subject. From 1793 to 1707, I remained closely at home, saw none l)ut those who came there, and at length became very sen- sible of the ill effect it had ujwn my own mind, and of its direct and iire- sistible tendency to render me unfit for society and imeasy when necessarily engaged in it. I felt enough of the effect of withtlrawing from the world then, to see that it led to an anti-social and misanthropic state of mind, which severely punishes him who gives into it ; and it will be a lesson I shall never forget as to myself" But the law of Jef- ferson's mind was activity, and it was no long time before he mingled again in the political arena. His first decided THOMAS JEFFERSON. 59 symptom of returning animation is found by lais biographer in Ms subscrip- tion, at the close of 1795, to "Baclie's Aurora." He was no lono-er content with "his solitaiy Richmond news- paper." After this, there is no more thorough "working politician" in the countiy than Thomas Jefferson.^ It is not necessaiy here to trace his influence on eveiy j^assing event. We may proceed rapidly to his reappear- ance in public life as Vice-President in 1797, on the election of John Adams, soon followed by the storm of party, attendant upon the obnoxious measures of the President in the Alien and Sedition Laws, the rapid disintegration of the Federal party and the rise of the Republicans. Out of the stormy con- flict, Jefferson, at the next election, was elevated to the Presidency. The vote stood seventy-three alike for himself and Burr, and sixty-five and sixty-four respectively for ]VIi\ Adams and Mr. Pinckney. As the Presidency was then given to the one who had the highest vote and the Vice-Presidency to the one next below him, neither being named for the offices, this equality threw the election into the House of Representa- tives. A close contest then ensued between Jefferson and Burr for the Presidency, which was protracted for six days and thirty-six ballotings, when ' The close of his retirement was marked by au honor which he valued, his election as President of the American Philosophical Society. In his letter of acceptance, always mindful of his practic.il democracy, he wrote, " I feci no qualification for this distinguished post, but a sincere zeal for all the objects of our institution, and an ardent desire to see knowledge so disseminated through the mass of mankind, that it may at length reach the extremes of BOcicty, beggars and kings." the former was chosen by ten out of the sixteen votes of the States. His Inaugui'al Address was an ap- peal for harmony. After a brief sketch in vivid language, of which no one had a better mastery, of the countiy, whose laws he was appointed to administer — " a rising nation, spread over a wide and fmitful land, traversing all the seas Avith the rich productions of their industiy, engaged in commerce with nations who feel power and forget right, advancing rapidly to destinies beyond the reach of mortal eye" — ho proceeded to assuage the agitations of l^arty. " Every difference of opinion," he said, "is not a difference of prin- ciple. We have called by different names brethren of the same princij^le. We are all Republicans — we are all Federalists. If there be any among us who woidd wish to dissolve this Union, or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of oj^inion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it." One of the early measui-es of Jeffer- son's administration, and the most im- portant of his eight years of office, Avas the acquisition of Louisiana by pur- chase from France. It was a work upon which he had .peculiarly set his heart. From the first moment of hear- ing that the territory was passing from Spain to France, he di-opped all politi- cal sympathy for the latter, and -saw in her possession of the region only a pregnant som-ce of war and hostility. Not content with the usual channel of diplomacy through the State depai-t- ment, he wi'ote himself at once to Mr. CO THOMAS JEFFERSON. Livingston, the minister in France, urging considerations of national policy not so much that the United States phould hold the country, as that the Eiiroi)eaii jtowcrs should relimiuish it. From his own jtrovious discussions with Spain, he understood the topic well, and his zeal was now equal to the occa- sion. An active European nation of the first class in possession of the mouth of the Mississippi, was utterly iuadnussible to his sagacious mind ; he paw and felt the fiict in all its conse- quences. The rapidity of his conclu- sions, his patriotic insight were ha]ipily seconded by the necessities of Napoleon at the time, and Louisiana became an integral jiart of the Ilejniblic, witli the le;ust e.vpcuditurc of money and j)olitical negotiation. The turn of European events had much to do with it — but had the difficulty been prolonged, the prescience and energy of Jcllersou would, there is every reason to believe, have been pi-epared to cope Avith the issue. The expeilitiou of Lems and Clarke, in exploi-ation of the western territory, jiarallcl with this new acipii- sition, was planned l)y Jetl'erson, and must be jilaced to the credit, alike of Lis love of science and patriotic insight into the future of his country. The l>rilliant acts of the navy in the Medi- ten'anean, in conflict with the Barbary powei-s, came also to swell the triumphs of the administration, and Jeffei*son, at the next Presidential election, was borne into office, spite of a vigorous ojijiosition, by a vote of one hundred and sixty-two in the electoral college to fbui-teen given to Chai-les Cotesworth Pinckney. The main events of this second ad- ministration were the trial of Burr for his alleged western conspiracy, in which the President took a deep interest in the prosecution, and the measures adopted against the naval aggressions of England, which culminated in the famous " Embargo," by which the for- eign trade of the country was annihi- lated at a blow, that Great Britain might be reached in her commercial interests. The state of things was pe- culiar. America had been grievously \\Tonijed in her unsettled relations with England, and not only assailed, but insulted in the attack on the Cliesa- peake and seizure of her men. What was to be done ? The question was not ripe for war. The Eml)argo was accepted as an alternative, but its im- mediate pressure at home was even greater than ^viu'. The disasters of the latter in the injuries inflicted on our commerce, would have been vast ; but they would have been casual, and might have been escaped. Not so this self- denying ordinance of the Embargo, which prohilnti'd American vessels from sailing from foreign ports, and all foreign vessels from taking out cargoes : it wivs a constant force, acting to the destruction of all commerce. It, more- over, directed the course of traile from our own shores to others, whence it miu;ht not easily be recalled. All this must have been seen by the Adminis- tration which resorted to the measm-e as a temporal-}- cxpeilient. It, of course, called down a storm of opposition from the remnants of Federalism in the com- mercial States, which ended in its re- peal eai-ly in 1S09, after it had been in THOMAS JEFFERSON. 61 operation sometliing more than a year. Immediately after, the Presidency of its author closed with his second term, leaving the country, indeed, in an agi- tated, unsettled state in reference to its foreign policy, l)ut with many elements at home of enduring prosperity and grandeui-. The territoiy of the nation had been enlarged, its resources de- veloped, and its financial system con- ducted with economy and masterly ability ; time had been gained for the inevitable coming stniggle with Eng- land, and though the navy was not looked to as it should have been, it had more than given a pledge of its future prowess in its achievements in the Mediterranean. He was now sixty-six, nearly the full allotment of hiunan life, but he was destined to yet seventeen years of hono- rable exertion — an interval marked by his popular designation, " the sage of Monticello," in which asperities might die out, and a new generation learn to reverence him as a father of the State. He had been too much of a reformer not to suffer more than most men the obloquy of party, and he died without the tme Thomas Jeiferson being fully known to the public. In his last days he spoke of the calumny to which he had been sulyected with mingled i:)ride and charitable feeling. He had not considered, he said, in words worthy of remembrance, "his enemies as abusing him ; they had never known Jiim. They had created an imaginary being clothed with odious attributes, to whom they had given his name ; and it was against that creature of their imaginations they had levelled their anathemas." * "We may now penetrate vdthin that home, even, in the intimacy of his domestic correspondence, within that In'east, and learn something of the man Thomas Jefferson. His question- ing turn of mind, and, to a certain ex- tent, his unimaginative temperament, led him to certain views, particularly In matters of religion, which were thoucht at war with the welfare of society. But whatever the extent of his departure, in these things, from the majority of the Christian world, he does not appear, even in his o^vn family, to have influenced the opinion of others. His views are described, by those who have studied them, to resemble those held by the Unitarians. He was not averse, however, on occasion, to the services of the Episcopal Church, which, says Ml-. Eandall, "he generally at- tended, and when he did so, always carried his prayer-book, and joined in the respgnses and prayers of the con- sreo-ation." Of the Bible he was a great student, and, we fancy, derived much of his Saxon strength of expres- sion from familiarity with its language. If any subject was dearer to his heart than another, in his latter days, it was the course of education in the organization and government of his favorite University of Virginia. The topic had long been a favorite one, datins as far back with him as his report to the Legislature in 1779. It was revived in some efforts made in his county In 1814, which resulted in the estabbshment of a college that in 1818 ' Letter from Colonel T. J. Randolph to Henry 8. Ran- dall. Randall's Life of Jefferson, in. E44. 62 THOMAS JEFFERSON. gave place to the projected University. Its coureos of iustnictiou reflected bis tastes, its government was of bis con- trivance, be booked abroad for its first I)rofessors, and its arcbltectiiral jibms, in wbicb-be took great interest, were mainly arranged by bini. lie was cbosen by tbe Board of Visitors, aj>pointed by tbe Governor, its Hector, and died bolding tbe office. An in- scription for bis monument, wbicb was fonnd among bis papers at bis deatb, reads: " Here lies buried, Tbomas Jeflerson, autbor of tbe Declaration of American Independence, of tbe Statute of Viririnia for Religious Free- dom, and Fatber of tbe Uuivei'sity of irgnna. Tbe time was approacbiug for its emplo}^nent, as tbe old statesman lin- gered with some of tbe physical infirm- ities, few of tbe mental inconveuiouces of advanced life. His fondness t\)r riding blood liorses was ke])t uj) almost to tbe last, and be bad always bis family, bis friends, bis books — taitbful to tbe end to tbe sublimities of yEscbj- lus, tbe passion of bis younger days. lie was nuicb more of a classical, even, tban o{ a scientific scholar, we have beard it said by one well qualified to form an opinion; but this was a taste wbicb bo did not boast of, and which, bajjplly for bis enjoyment of it, his political enemies did not find out. In tbe decline of life, when debt, growing out of old encumbrances and new exjienses on bis estates, was pressing upon him, these resom-ces were unfaib ing and exacted no repayments. His pen, too, ever ready to give wings to his thought, was with him. Even in those last days, preceding the national anniver- sary wbicb marked bis deatb, be Anote with bis wonted strength and fervor : "All eyes are opened or opening to tbe rights of man. Tbe general spread of tbe light of science has already laid open to every view the palpable truth, that tbe mass of mankind have not been born Avith saddles on their backs, nor a favored few booted and spun-ed, ready to ride them legitimately, by the grace of God." This Avas the last echo of tbe fire which was wont to inspire senates, which had breathed in the early councils of liberty, which had kept pace with the progress of the na- tion to a third generation. A few days after, at noon of the daj' which bad given the Republic birth, to the music of bis own brave words, exactly fifty years after tbe event ; in full conscious- ness of bis ebbing moments, with tran- quillity and equanimity, passed from earth the soul of Tbomas Jeftei'son. His old comrade, John Adams, lingered at Braintrce a few hours longer, think- ing of his friend in bis dying moments, as be uttered bis last words : " Thomas Jefferson still sm-vives." They were too late for fact, but they have been accepted for proj)becy, and in this spirit they are inscribed as tbe motto to the latest memorial of him of whom they were spoken. Thus, on tbe fouiih of July, 18 "20, i>assed away tbe two great a})Ostles of American liberty; tbe voice wbicb, louder, perhaps, than any other, bad called for the Declara- tion of Independence, and tbe hand that penned it. / /^ff7L-*^t: e/^Z^tij ^-C f ^r,^t€'t.i rfi- JAMES MADISON. James Madison, the fourth President of tlie United States, was descended from an old family of Virginia planters, which is traced to the first annals of the country, in the records of the great pioneer, Captain Jolin Smith. A branch of the family is distinguished in the history of western settlement be- yond the AUeghanies. The first bishop of the Protestant Episcopal Church of Virginia bore the same name with the President, and was related to him. The family seat of the branch of the Madisons, which gave })irth to the sub- ject of our sketch, was Montpelier, in Orange County, Virginia. It was the home of his father and grandfather, and became celebrated as his own residence Avlien years and public services brought jiilgriras to the spot. His birthplace, however, was some fifty miles distant, on the banks of the Ilaj)pahannock, near Port Royal, at the estate belonging to his maternal grandmotlier, where his mother was then on a visit. Mr. Rives, the latest biographer of Madison, speaks of the ancient seat of hospitality, Montpelier, and "the pic- turesque grandeur of its mountain scenery," enhanced by " the heartiness and cordiality of its possessors. The mother of Mi'. Madison, Eleanor Con- way," he continues, " must in her day have added largely to the attractions of the social, as she undoubtedly did in the highest degree, to the happiness, comfort and usefulness of the domestic scene. Nothing is mon; touching and beautiful in the life of her illustrious son, than the devoted tenderness for his mother, with which her virtues and character inspired him — ever recurring with anxious thoughtfulness, in the midst of his most important occupa- tions, to her delicate health, and after the close of his public labors, person- ally watching over and nursing her old age with such pious care, that her life was protracted to wdthin a few years of the term of his own. His father was, no less, the object of his dutiful and affectionate attachment and respect. The correspondence between them, from the period of young Madison's being sent to Princeton College in ITCO, to the installation of the matiu'ed and hf> nored statesman in the office of Secre- tary of State in 1801, when the fathei died, has been carefully preserved, and shows how much they were bound to each other by sentiments of mutual confidence and respect, even more than by ties of natural affection." ' ' History of the Life and Times of James Madison, by WiUiam C. Kivcs. I. 8-9. 68 6i JAMES MADISON. Sucli influences of the beauties of nature and of domestic life, are favor- able to a liappy development of the youthful faculties, and have much to do with the nuui's future career. Tlie young Madison was a well disposed, teachable youth. He received his edu- cation at a boarding-school kept in the neighboring King and Queen County, by Donald Robertson, a learned Scotch- nnui, with whom he was placed for a few years, at the age of twelve. Re- turning to his home, he was prepared for college by the clergyman of the parish, the Rev. Thomas Martin, who had his home under the paternal roof Princeton College, New Jersey, had then risen into distinction by the acipii- sition of a President of great acuteness of mind and fine literary and ]>liilo- sophical attainments, John Wither- spoon, who bore a prominent part in the Revolution, and whose name' adorns the Declaration of Independence. To Princeton, then, at this time, flocked the youth, -who were to be emjihatically the men of the new generation. MmYi- son was foremost among the number, and by his side were Samuel Stanhope Smith, the future accomplished divine, Hugh Henry Brackenridge, the stalwart author of "ilodern Chivalry," Philip Freueau, a man of great talent, the verse-maker of the Revolution, who was his classmate, William Bradford, Aaron Burr, and four future governors of States — John Henry, of Marylaml, Morgan Lewis, of New York, Aaron Ogden, of New Jersey, and Henry Lee, of Vii'ginia.' ' Wo arc indebted to Mr. Rives for this rnuniorntion, with the exceiiliOQ of Freauau, wboiii ho haa omitted. Madison wjis an ardent student, stealing hours from sleep for his books, and compressing the laboi-s of the four years' College course into three. This devotion enabled him to graduate in 1771, a year earlier than he woidd otherwise have done; but it cost Iiiia an illness which he sought to repair l)y a continued residence at Princeton, whicli was not without its advautatjes in the counsel of Witherspoon, who greatly admired the sagacity and pru- dence of his pupil, and in tlu; o))pt)r- tunity of watching the oj)euing move- ments of the Revolution at New Yt)rk. Madison left Princeton with a mind imbued with literature, a polished style of coni])osition, and religious convic- tions strengthened by much thought and extensive reading. He now for a while employed his time at home in liberal studies, and assisted in the education of his younger brothers. His correspondence with his friend, William Bradford, at this time, shows an ardent, ingenuous, open- ing manhood, kindling at the evils of the times, tlie union of poverty and luxury, the jncvalence of vice and wickedness, and the defects of the clergy, and especially the persecutions which were then rife in his neighbor- hood, under the church and State legis- lation, directed against some unfortu- nate Baptist dissenters. The sentiment of opposition to Brit- ish authority, which had sprung up simultaneously from foregone conclu- sions in the minds of the intelligent patriots of the country, was now to as- sume form in active services. Madison was among the earliest to give exjires- JAMES MADISON. 65 sion to it. He anticipated the famous resolutions of Henry in 1775, and upon that popular leader's success in the affair of the powder with Dunmore, drew up, in May of that year, an ad- dress of thanks for the Orange County committee. In the first General Con- vention of the State of Virginia, which organized its independence the follow- ing year at Williamsburg, Madison was a delegate from his district. He was one of the committee appointed to frame a Constitution, and, under the leadership of George Mason, rendered valuable services to that instrument. He was the author, in particular, of an important amendment of the original draft of the Declaration of Rights, which substituted for the word " tolera- tion," in matters of religion, a full ex- pression of the absolute right to the exercise of freedom. Madison sat with Jefferson in the first Legislative Assem- bly under the Constitution at Wil- liamsburg, but lost his election to the next session by his resistance to the popidar custom, inherited fi'om the Anglican colonial times, of treating the electors. His opponents were not so scrupulous, and he was defeated. To make amends for this tiu'u of af- fairs, the legislative body chose him a member of its Council of State. He held this position till he was sent by the Assembly to the National Congress of 1780, at Philadelphia, in which he served till the conclusion of peace. The services rendered by him during this period were rather those of a counsellor and committee man than of a debater. Indeed, a constitutional modesty and diltideuce long withheld 9 him from public displays of the kind, and it was only by degrees that he conquered the inability or reluctance. " So extreme," we are told, " was his diffidence, that it was Mr. Jefferson's opinion that if his first public appear- ance had taken place in such an assem- bly as the House of Representatives of the United States, Mr. Madison would never have been able to overcome his aversion to disjday. But by practice, fu'st in the Executive Council of Vir- ginia, and aftei-wards in the Old Con- gress, which was likewise a small body, he was gradually habituated to speech- making in public, in which he became so powerful." ^ But if we hear little of the oratory of Madison, there is much to be said of his services to the Old Congress. They were those of the statesman con- tinually emjiloyed in eking out the resources, sustaining the credit, and adjusting the irregular machinery of an imperfect system of government. Aftex- the first glow of patriotism, and the ardor of remonstrance, in the early scenes of the Revolution, there was more of toil than of glory in the later labors of Congress. Its feeble powers, even under the Articles of Confedera- tion, its unsettled authority, the di- vided allegiance of the people of the States, its shifts in the government of the army, its failures in finance, its un- equal foreign diplomacy, all productive of jarring and discord, had, indeed, one compensation. They were well calcu- lated to discipline the statesmen who engaged in them, and enlighten the ' Biographical Sketch of Madison, view, March, 18S9. Democratic Re- 66 JAMES MADISON. public on the necessities and claims of a just govornmont. Out of tlu' troul)lod strife and confusion came forth, Avitli others, Jay, Hamilton, and INIadison, and the nation, after being long in pain, brought forth the Constitution. We may refer IMadison's chief labors to one or other of these trials which we have enumerated. We find him, for instance, at one time discharging, with consummate ability, what would now fall to a Secretary of State, namely, the preparation of a paper to be sent to the minister in Spain, enforcing the claim to the free navigation of the Mississippi; and when the force of his argument had established his positions to the admiration of all men, he is com- pelled to combat the opposition of his own State, and Avitness a degrading withdrawal by Congress of the proud instructions he had fonvarded to the plenipotentiary at Madiid. At another time, he is engaged in advocating a simple and necessar}' revenue system of duties, to discharge the oblicrations of the war and sustain public credit, a measm-e which is thwarted by State opposition, when his own Virginia falls away from her resolves, but which he returns to, and again works upon till it is brought, with increased authority, before Con- gress, and submitted to the States, ac- com])anied by a masterly appeal li'om his pen. And yet the work is not done. It is left as a legacy to the Government to come. During his residence in Philadeli)hia, Madison formed an unrequited attach- ment for the daughter of General Floyd, a New York delegate, which drew forth from Jefferson a philosophical letter of consolation under his disappointment, which may relieve these rather diy details of political duties. " I sincerely lament," -wiites Jefl'erson, who was an acquaintance of the lady, " the misad- venture which has hajipened, from whatever cause it may have happened. Should it be final, however, the world still presents the same and many other resources of happiness, and you possess many within yourself Firmness of mind and imiutermitting occupation will not long leave you in pain. No event has been more contrary to my expectations, and these were founded on what I thoucrht a good kuowlt'di^e of the ground. But of all machines, ours is the most complicated and in- explica1>le." * Upon his retiu'n to Montpelier from Congress, Madison directed his atten- tion again to the study of the law, which, like Richard Ilenrj' Lee, he pur- sued rather with a view to statesman- ship, than with any intention to engage in the ordinary conflicts of the profes- sion. From 1784 to If 86, he was in the State legislature, which he re- entered with the full intention to bring to the service of Vii-ginia and the country the lessons of experience which he had derived from his labors in the Concnress. In his own words, " I ac- ceded to the desire of my fellow citizens of the county, that I should be one of its representatives in the Legislature, hoping that I might there best con- tribute to inculcate the critical posture to which the Revolutionary cause was ' MS. letter cited in Kivcs' Life of Madison, L fSS. JAMES MADISON. 67 reduced, and tlie merit of a leadiug agency of the State in bringing about a rescue of the Union and the blessings of liberty staked on it, from an impend- ing catastrophe." ^ The most important of his employments in this capacity, relate to the internal improvements of the State and its commercial condition, in which he seconded the plans of Washington; the proposed mode of supporting the clergy by assessment, advocated by Patrick Henry, which he defeated ; and the adjustment of the British debts, which he sought to bring about in furtherance of the treaty obli- gation of the General Government. His measures were especially directed to the support of the confederacy, in the regulation of trade and commerce. For this purpose, he drafted the reso- lution of Jan. 21, 1786, appointing Commissioners to assemble at a time and place to be agreed on with the delegates of other States who should accept the invitation, to take into con- sideration the commercial questions at issue. The representatives of five States — New York, New Jersey, Penn- sylvania, Delaware and Virginia — assembled, in Sejitemlier, at Annapolis, Maiyland, which was chosen for its remoteness from the seat of Congress and the large cities. The attendance was inadequate to the intended object, but the meeting had one memorable re- sult. It brought together Alexander Hamilton and James Madison, and by its emphatic recommendation drawn up by Hamilton, enlarging the objects ' Introduction to the Debates in the ConTontion. The Madison Tapers, II. 693. of the meeting, led directly to the Federal Convention of the ensuing year. Madison urged uj^on the Vir ginia Assembly compliance Avith the suggestions at Annapolis, and he was himself chosen as one of the delegates to the new body, having among his colleagues from his native State, Wash- ington, Mason and Wythe. Virginia thus stood foremost in the work of the Convention. Madison approached his great work — the great Avork of his life — with a solemn sense of its im- portance and responsibility. No one knew better than himself the absolute necessity of national union, to be ex- pressed in a system of law comprehend- ing the Avhole and protecting the several pai"ts. No one worked more faithfully in the Convention, which made a mighty nation out of janing and discordant States. Madison was so impressed with the future import of the work in which he was engaged, that he added to the labors of debate the Herculean task of preparing, day by day, a report of the proceedings of the Convention, embracing all the speeches and discussions. " The curi- osity I had felt," he says, in a prelimi- nary essay prefixed to this manuscript histoiy, Avhich he left unjiublished at his death as a legacy to his country, " dui'ing my researches into the history of the most distinguished confederacies, particularly those of antiquity, and the deficiency I found in the means of satisfying it, more especially in what related to the process, the principles, the reasons and the anticipations which prevailed in the formation of them, detennined me to presei-ve, as far as I 68 JAMES MADISON. coiilcl, nn exact account of what might pass iu the Convention whilst executing its trust, witli the iiiagiiitude of which I was iluly inijnessed, as 1 was hy the gratilication promised to futiu'c curi- osity by an autJieutic exhibition of the objects, the opinions and the reasonings from which the new system of govern- ment was to receive its peculiar stnic- ture and organization. Nor -was I unaware of the value of such a contii- bution to the fund of materials fi>r the histoiy of a Constitution, on which would be staked the happiness of a people great even in its ini^vncy, and possibly the cause of liberty tlirough- out the world." The j)aius taken by Madison in the })re})aration of this work was cxtrordi- nary. lie selected a seat neai* the chair- man, where nothing that jmssed would escape him ; made abbreviated notes of all that was reatl and said ; not a little, he tells us, aided by practice and familiarity with the style and train of observation and reasoning of the prin- cipal speakers ; \\Tote ont these notes when the Convention was not in ses- sion ; in a very few instances being aided by the revisions or supervision of the speakers. So important were these ])rivate labors of ^Madison, that when Congress, in 1819, undertook the publication of the Journal of the Con- vention, Madison was called upon to complete its imperfect official outline, lie left the Debates, at his death, care- fully i»repared for the press, \vith direc- tions in his Avill for their publication. Failing to secure satisfactory arrange- ments with publishers, his widow sub- mitted the afl'jiir to President Jackson. He brought it before Congress, the pul> lication was provided for by that body, and thirty thousand dollars were aj)- ])ro})riated to Mrs. ]\Iadison for the copyright. The work iiually aj)peare(l, more than half a centuiy after the tlis- cussions which it recorded, in 1840, when the public learnt, for the first time, the full histoiy of the Convcu tion. The Madison Papers also include another series of Debates in the Con gress of the Confederation, taken in the years 1782-3, and 1787 ; for, reap- pointed in 178G, Madison was also a member of the old Congress at its final adjournment. The work of the Convention being now comjilcted iu the foruiation of the Constitution, it was next to be sub- mitted to the States. Madison, in con- junction with Jay and Hamilton, paved the way foi- its ado])tion in the Pa}>ers of the Federalist, originally })ublished in a New York journal. The contribu- tions written by him, in whole or in part, are twenty-nine in number, ex- hibiting, among other points, the utility of the Union as a safeguanl against domestic faction and insuirection, the anarchical tendencies of mere confede- racies, the nature of the }>roposed powers, and the law of their distribu- tion. The paper " Concerning the diffi- culties which the Convention must have experienced iu the formation of a pro- per j)lan," rises into a philosophical com- ment ; and certainly no one could ■m-ite with more feeling on this theme than IMadison. iMadison Avas a member of the Rati- fying Convention in Virginia, where its adoption met vdih considerable opposi- JAMES MADISON. 69 tion, headed hj Patrick Henry, who looked upon the new government as a sacrifice of State interests. So decided was his antagonism to Madison, as its prominent defender, tliat lie defeated his election as Senator to the first Con- gress. He was, however, chosen by the elec- tors of his district a member of the House of Kepresentatives, in which body he continued to serve for eight years. In the interpretation of the pow- ers of the Constitution, and in regard to the policy of several measures of go- vernment, he differed from the Adminis- tration. He opposed the financial adjustments of Hainilton, and in the course of the French agitations, led the debate in opposition to the British treaty. This period of Congressional life was relieved by the mamage of Madison, in 1794, to a young Avidow of Phila- delphia, Mrs. Todd, better known by her maiden name, Dolly Payne. This lady was a Virginian by birth, of Quaker parentage. The mamage was a most ha2:)py one. The vivacity and amiable disposition of Mrs. Madison have left their gentle recollections alike in the retirement of Montpelier, and the gay salons of Washington. Her femi- nine grace softened the asperities and relieved the burden of political life. After soothing the protracted age of her husband, his feebleness and his languors, she survived many years, to be honored in herself and in his memory. After the close of his Congressional life, Madison retired with his wife to his books and home pursuits at Montpelier. He was soon, however, to be called forth again into the arena by the agitations of the times. The extraordinary mtsasures of Adams, the Alien and Sedition laws, which gi-ew out of the attacks upon govern- ment in the French excitement, were violently assailed in Virginia. Mr. Madison drafted the famcms resolu- tions of the Legislature of 1798, con- demning these acts of the Administra- tion, and to extend their influence with the public, issued his Report. On the election of Jefferson to the Presidency, in 1801, Madison became Secretary of State, and discharged the duties of the office till he was called to succeed his friend at the head of th(! government, in 1809. It was a period of embaiTassing foreign diplomacy, of vexed international relations, of pro- tracted discussions of the rights of neu- trals, of restrictions, and that measure of incipient war, the embargo. The con- test with England, was the chief event of Madison's administrations. He was a man of peace, not of the sword, and needed not the terror and indecorum of the fliglit from Washington, and the burning of the capitol, to impress upon him its unsatisfactoiy necessities. Public opinion was divided as to the vnsdom of the contest. The emban-ass- ments of the question have been covered by a flood of gloiy, but little perhaps was gained besides the victories, which might not have been secured a little later by diplomacy. The war, however established one fact, that America would fight, at whatever cost, in defence of her violated rights, and the lesson may have assisted, and may yet be destined 70 JAMES MADISON. to assist, other deliberationa At any rate, it is to the credit of Madison, that he entered npon the apj>arently inevitable hostilities %\-ith reliu'tanee, that he muintaineil the struggle Urndy, and l)ro\ight it to an early close. Montpelier, again, in 1817, gave its friendly welcome to the wearied states- man. With the exception of his jiar- tieipation as a member of the Conven- tion, at Richmond, of lSi?9, in the revision of the Constitution of Virginia, lie is said never to have left his district for the reuiaiuder of his life, which, solaced by the entertainment of books and natural history, the 'comforts of domestic life, and the attentions of his countrymen to the aged patriot, was protracted at his mountain residence, to the advanced term of eighty-five yeai-s — an extraordinary period for a constitution feeble from youth, afflicted with various disorders, and exjioscd to the pressure of harassing occupation. He died at Montpelier, June 28, 1836, the last survivor of that second noble band of signers, the signei"s of the Constitution. An interesting article, contributed by Professor George Tui'ker, of the University of Virgini;i, of which, after the death of Jetferson, Madison be- came rector, to the "Loudon Penny Encyclopedia," supjdies us with a few personal anecdotes of the man. " In person ]Mr. Madison was below the middle size ; tlu>ugh his face was ordi- narily homely, Avheu he smiled it Avas 80 j)leasing as to be almost handsome. His manner witli strangers was re- served, which some regju'ded a^ pride, and others as coldness ; but, on further acquaintance, these impressions were comjdctely eft'aced. His temper seemed to be naturally a very sweet oui', and to have been brought under comi)lete con- trol. "When excited, he seldom showed any stronger indication of anger than a slight flush on the cheek. As a hus- band, ]Mr. Madison was Avithout re- proach. He never had a child. He was an excellent master, and though he might have relieved himself from debt, and secured an easy income, he could never be induced to sell his slaves, ex- cept for their own accommodation, to be Anth their vnves or husbands. The writer has sometimes been struck with the conferences between him and some trusty servant in his sick chamber, the Idack seeming to identify himself with his master as to plans of management, and giving his opinions as freely, tlunigh not ofVcnsively, as if conversing with a brother With great powers of argument, he had a fine vein of hvmior ; he abounded in anecdote, told his stories very well, and they had the advantage of being such as were ne\er heard before, except perhaps from him- self Such were his conversational powers, that to the last his house was one of the most pleasant to visit, and his society the most delightfid that can be imagined. Yet more than half his time he suftered bodily pain, and some- times very acute j)ain." " Purity, modesty, decorum — a mo- deration, temperance, and virtue in everything," said the late Senator Ben- ton, " were the characteristics of ^Lr. Madison's life and manners." /7 •■ r-^ < JAMES MONROE. James MoismoE, the fiftli President of tlie United States, was born in April, 1758, in "Westmoreland County, Vir- ginia, on tlie Potomac, a region remark- able in the history of the country as the birth-place of Washington, Madi- son, and of the distinguished family of the Lees. Monroe's ancestors had been long settled on the spot. The names of his parents were Spence Monroe and Elizabeth Jones ; and, to our regret, the scant biographies of the President tell us nothins; more of them. Theii* son was educated at the college of Wil- liam and Mary, which he left to take part in the early struggles of the army of Washington — a cause which in the breasts of Virginians superseded all ordinary occupation. Like Marshall and others, the future civilian began his career in the pursuits of war. He joined the forces of Washington at New York, in time to participate in the courageous retreat after the battle of Long Island. He was in the action at Harlem Heights, and the subsequent battle of White Plains, and was in the retreat through the Jerseys. He led a company in the van of the battle of Ti'enton, and was severely wounded, a service in the field which procured him a captaincy. He was with Lord Stirling, acting as his aid in the cam- paigns of 17 Y7 and 1778, and distin- guished himself at the Bi-andywine, Germantown and Monmouth. Being thrown out of the regular line of pro- motion by accepting his staff appoint- ment, he was anxious to regain his posi- tion in the line, aud for this pui-pose was sent by Washington to raise a regiment in Virginia. Failing to ac- complish this object he remained in the. State and dii-ected his attention to the study of the law, under the direction of Jefferson, then recently elected Go- vernor. He took no further part with the army at the north, but was active as a volunteer when Virginia became the theatre of the war in the successive invasions of Arnold, Phillips and Corn- wallis. He was specially employed by Governor Jefferson in 1780, to visit the southern army as a military commis- sioner, to report on its conditions and prospects, a duty which he performed to the full satisfaction of the Executive. In 1782 he was elected a member of the Vu-ginia Legislature, and shortly promoted by that body to a seat in its executive council. In June of the next year he was chosen member of Congress and sat in that body at its meeting at Annapolis when Washington resigned his military commission at the close of the war. The immediate pressure of • 71 72 .JAMES MONROE. the necessary stejis for self-delVnce, Nvhioh gave a kind of ooliosion to tlie loose anthority of the oUl Congress, being now removed, attentit)n was drawn in the most forcible manner to its defects and weaknesses. A poor in- strument fm- war, it was utteily inca- pable of managing the res})onsibilities of jH'ace. In foreign and domestic regu- lations, in the discharge of its obliga- tions, in raising a revenue, in giving uniformity to trade, in eveiy sjiecies of judicial determination, it Avas lamenta- bly inefficient. Slouroe, though a young legislator — he was only twenty- four when he entered Congress, and consequently had not the dearly-iujr- chased experience of some of the older membere who had exhausted eveiy art of labor and ingenuity in holding the disjointed fabric together — yet was sa- iracious enouower of regu- lating commerce. He re])orted in favor of an alteration of the Articles of Con- federation to meet both objects. The necessity of some ju-ovision for these objects led fii-st to the convention at Annapolis, where the initial steps were taken to bring together the convention of 1787, at Philadelphia, which origin- ated the Constitution. Another mark of confidence in the abilities »>f Monroe was his selection as one of the commis- sioners to decide upon the controverted boundarj' between New York and Mas- sachusetts, in 1784. He accepted the a})j)ointmeut, but delays arising in thu composition of the board, resigned the office before the case came to a healing. Indeed it was settled without resort to the court at all. Mr. IMonroe also took part in the discussions touching the as- sumptions of Spain in her attempts to close the navigation of the Mississippi to inland American commerce, ojiposing the concession of a riirht which at that time began to be resolutely claimed, and was fortunately at no very distant day established by treaty. AVo shall find his name jirominently associated with this important measvuv. " It was the qualities of judgment and i)ersever- ance which he disi)layed on that occa- sion," says Senator Benton, " which brought him thof e calls to dii)lomacy, in which he was afterwards so much employed -with three of the then gi-eat- est European i)owers — Fi-ance, Sjtain and Great Britain; and it was in allu- sion to this circumstance that President Jefl:*ei*son afterwards, when the right of deposit at New Orleans had been vio- lated by Spain, and when a minister was Avanteil to recover it, said, ' Monroe is the man : the defence of the Missis- sippi belongs to him.' " ' The feeling e.xcited by the discussion of the negotiation between the North and South in the old Congress, led him to abandon his appointment as commis- sioner in the boundary dis}Hite l>etween New York and Massachusetts.' ' Bonlon'a Thirty Voara' View, I. 680. ' Aildn-iis on Ihe Life and Character of Jomca Mooroo, b}- Joliii (juiiic}! Adaiiti. JAMES MONROE. 73 The three years' service of Mr. Mon- roe in Congress closed in 1786. Dur- ing that term he mamed Miss Kort- riglit, a lady of New York, of an old and rcHpectablc family of the State, of whose personal merits we may wil- lingly accept the eulogy of President John Qnincy Adams. " Of her attrac- tions and accomjdishments," says he, " it were impossible to speak in tenns of exaggeration. She was, for a period little short of half a century, the cher- ished and affectionate partner of her husband's life and fortunes. Slie ac- companied him in all his joumeyings through this world of care, from which, by the dispensations of Providence, she liad been removed only a few months before himself. The companion of his youth was the solace of his declining years, and to the close of life enjoyed the testimonial of his affection, that with the external beauty and elegance of deportment, conspicuous to all who were honored with her acquaintance, she united the more precious and en- dearing qualities which mark the ful- fihneut of all the social duties, and adorn with grace and fill with enjoy- ment the tender relations of domestic life." At the close of this Congress- ional term, Mr. Monroe made his resi- dence at FredericksTjurg, with a view to the practice of the law, and was pre- sently, in 1Y87, returned to tlie Assem- bly of Virginia. In the following year ha was chosen a member of the Con- vention of the State, called to decide upon the acceptance of the Constitu- tion. We have seen the part which he bore in the discussions of the old Con- 10 gress of the Confederacy on his first admission to that body in reference to the increase of its powers. When the new instrument was before the country and under deliberation in the State Convention, he was opposed to its adoption, holding that certain restric- tions, afterwards embraced in the amendments, should precede its accept- ance. Notwithstanding, however, his opposition to its provisions, he was early appointed to an important office of its creation, that of United States senator, to which he was elected in 1789, on the decease of William Gray- son, one of the first members chosen. lie continued in the Senate till 1Y94, when he was appointed by Washing- ton minister plenipotentiary to France, contemporaneously with Chief Justice Jay to the court of Great Bi-itain. Gouverneur Moms, from his sympathies with royalty and his undisguised de- clarations of his sentiments, had become unpopular with the French court. Moreover, his recall was requested as a compensation to the wounded honor of France in the American rejection of Genet, which was on the point of being consummated, when he was withdra^vn. As a measure of reconciliation, Wash- ington chose a successor from the party supposed particularly to favor French ideas, in contradistinction to the admir- ers of England. In the two divisions of the country between France and Great Britain, the Republican party was of the former, the Federalists of the latter. In sending Jay to England and Monroe to France, the President was conciliating the nations to whom they were commissioned, and parties at 74 JAMES MONROE. home. Tlie policy of Wasliington was neutrality, and be endeavored, as far as was consistent with the public welfivre, to treat both sides with strict impar- tiality. There were more jiopular grounds of leaning to France ; that na- tion had assisted us to the final triumph which gave America independence, and so had the better claim upon our sym- pathies in comparison mth an enemy •ivho Lad not yet learnt to respect a successful rebel. But familiar, sponta- neous France was felt to be more ex- acting than cold and distant England. The continental nation had attempted to play the part of a dictator in Ameri- can affairs, and she had not shown the virtue at home to command respect to her interference abroad. She repre- sented, beside, dangerous political the- ories, while our consen'ative system was essentially based on the authority of English precedents. For all this, it was natui'al that the administration of Washington should incline to England when a decision was to be made be- tween the two nations. Mr. Monroe anived in Paris August 2, 1794, and was well received by the National Convention, when he brought himself to the notice of that body. His reception in fact was enthusiastic. It was public, in the Convention, and as the minister delivered his credentials it was decreed " that the flag of the American and French republics should be united together and suspended in the hall of the Convention, in testimo- ny of eternal union and friendship be- tween the two peoples. To evince the imj)res8ion made on his mind by this act, and the grateful sense of his consti- tuents, Mr. Monroe presented to the Convention the flas: of the United States, which he prayed them to accept as a proof of the sensibility with which his countiy received every act of fi-iend ship from its ally, and of the pleasure with which it cherished every incident which tended to cement and consolid- ate the union between the two nations." ' These congratulations were reciprocat- ed in kind by the transmission of a French flag to the United States by the hands of the new minister, M. Adet, who delivered it to the President at his reception. Words, however, do not always express deeds. The Govern- ment continued not only jealous of any diplomatic movements of the United States in England, but pursued a sys- tem of aggression upon American com- merce and trade, little if anything shoi't of actual hostilities. It was Mr. Mon- roe's duty to negotiate and protest ; his efforts were ineffectual to control the agencies at work, and after some- thing more than two years of diploma- cy he received his letters of recall, brought by his successor. General Charles Cotesworth Piuckuey. The mission of Monroe was officially closed on the first of January, 1797, when he took leave of the Executive Dlrectoiy in an amlience specially assigned for the purpose. It was no doubt the impression of Washington, in ajipoiuting a successor to Monroe, that the latter had in some way failed proj)erly to urge the views of his Government. In the language of his cabinet, of which Timothy Pick- • MarshttU's Life of Washingtou, V. lU. JAMES MONROE. 75 ering was now at the head, " whether this dangerous omission arose from such an attachment to the cause of France as rendered him too little mind- ful of the interests of his own country, or from mistaken views of the latter, or from any other cause, the evil is the same ;" they therefore advised his re- call. It may be mentioned that Wash- ington at first thought of sending a minister extraordinary to negotiate by his side ; but this he was unable to do without the action of Congress, and that body was not now in session. On his return to the United States, Mr. Monroe thought fit to meet what he conceived an unfair judgment of his course by the publication of a volume entitled " A View of the Conduct of the Executive in the Foreign Affairs of the United States, connected with the Mission to the French Republic during the Years 1794-5-6, illustrated by his Instructions and Correspondence, and other Authentic Documents." The book, from which the author expressly refused to receive any profit, was pub- lished "by and for" Benjamin Frank- lin Bache, at the office of the " Aurora," in Philadelphia. The impression it made upon Washington, now retired from public office to the shades of Mount Vernon, is expressed in a letter dated March, 1798, addi-essed to John Nicholas. " With respect to Mr. Mon- roe's ' View of the Conduct of the Ex- ecutive of the United States,' " he wiites, " I shall say but little, because, as he has called it a ' view ' thereof, I shall leave it to the tribunal to which he himself has appealed to decide, first, how far a cori'espondence with one of its agents is entitled to the unqualified term he has employed ; secondly, how, if it is not, it is to exhibit a view there- of; thirdly, how far his instructions, and the letters he has received from that Executive, through the constitu- tional organ, and to which he refers, can be made to embrace the great points which he and his party are evidently aiming at, namely, to impress upon the public mind that fixvoritism towards Great Britain has produced a derelic- tion, in the Administration, of good will toward France." Of " the propri- ety of exposing to public view his pri- vate instructions and correspondence with his own government," the censure is still more emphatic. That Washing- ton read the book carefully, is witnessed by his copy of it left in the library at Mount Vernon, copioiisly annotated by his own hand, with critical marginal comments.' It is to the credit of Mon- roe, that when the immediate occasion of his remonstrance was over he took the opportunity to express his regard for the character and genius of both Washington and Jay. His eulogist, President John Quincy Adams, does justice to this fair-mindedness. After commending the saying of the great orator, statesman and moralist of anti- quity, when reproached for reconcilia- tion with a bitter antagonist, that he wished his enmities to be transient, and his friendships immortal, he adds, " thus it was that the genial mind of James Monroe, at the zenith of his public honors, and in the retirement of his latest days, cast off, like the suppura- ' Many of them are given by Mr. Sparks, in Appeudis X. to his eleventh volume of Washington's Writings. 76 JAMES MONROa tion of a wound, all the foolinga of danger, and advised preparation tc unkindnosis, and tlio sovoritios of judg- | meet the emergency, while he ex- nient whieh might have intruded u])on erted every nerve to brinix his ne>A)tia- his better nature, in the ardor of civil discussion." It would have been a ran- corous nature indeed to carry into the Presidential chair, when Washington was in the grave, the memory of an acerbity obliterated not only by time, but which originally grcAV out of a policy that had been sanctionetl by ex- perience. Immediately after his recall, Mr. Monroe was returned to the Virsrinia Legislature, and speedily elected Gov- ernor of the State, holding the otlice for the constitutional term of three yeai-s. In the beginning of 1S03 he was again called upon by the Pi'esident to pnv ceed to France as minister extraordinary to take part in the negotiations alreadv commenced by the resident minister, Robert R Livingston, for the purchase or cession of Louisiana, which in the ttini of Euroi>ean fortunes had been yielded by Spain to France. The pro- vince was likely to prove a new instru- ment of power, or pla}i:hing in the hands of the successful soldier of fortune who directed the movements of armies at his will. It was somethimr nn>re tion to a successful issue. The ear of the Fii-st Consul would probably have proved deaf to all his ajjjieals of argu ment, his demonstrations of political economy and geography, and his prof fers of payment, had not the short peace of Amiens been suddenly inter- rupted by symptoms of the renewal of the European struggle. Xapoleon wanted his men at home, and wished to put money in his purse. At this opportune moment of aft'airs, Monroe arrived in Paris in the spring of 1S03, in time to share in the lucky negotia- tion already commenced by Livingston, and on the eve of proving successful. When the will of a nation rejioses in the breast of one man, the slow pro- gress of di]>lomacy may sometimes be gi'eatly shortened. Within a month of Moni-oe's arrival, on the 30th April, the treaty was concluded ceding Louis- iana to the Uniteil States, llavinc: al- ready, in our account of the life of Liv- insrston, jjiven some notice of the most important details of the negotiation, it is unnecessary to re{>eat them here. Sutlice it that a more advautaireous than a mere speculation that he wouhl I purchase has seldom if ever been made turn a portion of his force to the New I by any nation ; for it was not only an World. The troops were assembled to ' important acquisition in itself, larger embai'k for his American possessions I than the country had any reiison to ex- on the Mississipi)i, and there was a prospect of far greater difficulties as to the navigation of that river than had ever presented themselves in the feeble diplomacy and scant authority of the former Spanish owners. Livingston warned his government at home of the poet — not only did it include a vast present possession, but it contained within it, to vary the expression of Dr. Johnson, " the potentialities i»f power beyond the dreams of ambition,'' while for those whose insight did not extend to posterity, an immediate obstacle to JAMES MONROE. 77 commerce, cause of peril, and even pos- sible danger of disraeml)erment, was removed. The piii-cluiso of Louisiana was the glory of tliu administration of Jefferson. The statesman who in our day should procure the cession of Lower Canada from England, would not se- cure a parallel advantage. The treaty having thus been promptly negotiated at Paris, Mr. Monroe passed over to London, the successor to llufus King as minister plenipotentiary to Great Britain. lie entered immediately upon his duties, and was busy with the open maritime questions between the two nations, when he was called off by President Jefferson, to ])rocecd to Spain to assist Charles Pinokney, the Ameri- can minister at that coui't, in the nego- tiations resjiecting claims for damages and the settlement of the disputed Louisiaiui Ixmndary question. Though little resulted at the time from the dis- cussions, the diplomatic papers of Mon- roe remain, in the language of Presi- dent Adams, " solid monuments of intellectual power applied to national claims of right, deserving the close and scrutinizing attention of every Ameri- can statesnum." Mr. Monroe resumed his duties in London in 1805 — a period of growing difficulty for an American minister in Great Britain, bent as that nation was upon the destruction of the rights of neutral nations upon the seas. In this era of embarrassed diplomacy, he gained what admissions could be gained from the reluctant ministry of Pitt and the partial liberality of Fox, when, the ag- gressions of England upon the high seas pressing heavily upon American commerce, William Pinkney, the emi nent lawyer of Maryland, of great fame in diplomacy, was sent out in the sum- mer of 180G, as his coadjutor, or joint commissioner in the negotiation. Lords Auckland and Howick were appointed by Fox plenipotentiaries, and a treaty was in the beginning of 1807 conclud- ed, by no means what was desired on the part of America, but, as in the case of Jay, the best which eould be ob- tained under the complicated difficul- ties of the times, when England had her Avar interests to maintain, and the United States had not the means of en- forcing her positions. The special effort at the outset was to induce Eng- land to waive her pretensions to the impressment of seamen, an abandon- ment of her assumed rights which she was unwilling to make ; for this and other defects President Jefferson sent back the treaty for revisal ; l)ut Mr. Canning having succeeded to the min- istry, with less fixvorable disj^ositions than his predecessor, the negotiation was not resumed. Monroe's next public office was as Go vernor of Virginia for the second time, in 1810; and towards the close of the following year, he was called l)y Madi- son to the Secretaryship of State, a position in direct line to the Presi- dency. He continued in this relation to the Government during the remain- der of Madison's two tenns, discharg ing at the close of the contest vnth Great Britain, the additional duties of the war department. His efficiency in these relations, in which he displayed force and activity, marked him out as the successor to Madison in the Presi- 78 JAMES MONROE. (leiitial office. Indeed he Lad been pmminont as a candidate upon Lis rt'turn tVi)m Lis English mission; and Lis spirited and energetic conduct in furtLering tLe operations of tLe war in Cougi-ess, Lad greatly added to Lis Lold upon tLe public. lie was tLe advocate of a national policy, and wLen funds were needed in tLe embar- rassed financial condition of tlie times, pledged Lis own fortune, not mtliout future embaiTasment, for tLe public welfare. All tLis was not forgotten. He was now to reap tLe fi-uits of a long course of exertion in puT)lic life, stretcLing backward to Lis early days witL AVasLington at tLe Declai'ution of Independence, and tLe first cam- paign of tLe Revolutionary war. All questions were at rest, time and tLe cLanire of events Laving removed tliem from tLe national arena. TLe strutrgle over, tLe powers of tLe Constitution had in a great measure subsided, as tLe workincr of tLe instniment Lad been proved and precedents estivblisLed ; tLere was no longer a FreucL and Eng- lisL party to agitate tLe countiy. We can Lardly, at tLe present day, estimate tLe value of emancij)ation from tLe latter embarrassment of tLe days of WasLiuffton and tLe elder Adams. In tLe words of an eminent statesman, wLose experience covered botL eras, JoLn Quincy Adams, '' We Lave now, neitLer in tLe Learts of personal rivals, nor upon tLe lips of political adversa^ ries, tLe reproacL of a devotion to a FrencL or a BritisL faction. If we ii'joice in the triumph of European arms, it is in the victories of the Cross over the Crescent. If we gladden with the native countr}Tnen of Lafayette, oi sadden with those of Pulaski and Kos- ciusko, it is the gnitulation of freedom rescued from oppression, and the mourn- ing of kindred S])irit8 over the martyrs to their country's independence. We have no sympathies, but with the joys and soiTOws of patriotism ; no attach- ments, but to the cause of liberty and of man." Monroe was raised to the Presidency, in 1819, by a large majority of the electoral votes. His Inaugural, wLicL was well received by tLe public, intro- duced tLe topics of a new era; Le urged measures for tlie national defence, and favored tLe elements of national prosperity in internal improvements and Lome manufactures. His concilia- tory policy looking to tLe welfare of tLe country was evident. He followed up Lis declarations by an early Presi- dential tour tlirougL tLe Eastern States, of wLicL, says Mr. IliklretL, tLe Listo- rian, " emlnttercd and Lot-tempered leaders of parties, wLo for tLe last seven years Lad Lardly deigned to speak to eacL otLer, or even to walk on tLe same side of tLe street, met now witL smiling faces, ^'}^ng in extrava- gance of ofHcial adoration. TLe 'era of good feeling' Laving tLus begun, tLe way was rai)idly paved for that com- plete amalgamation of parties, whioL took place a few years after."* TLe cLief events of Mr. Monroe's first tenn were tlie admission of Missis- sippi, Illinois and Alaliama as new States into tlie Union, and tlie impor- tant cession of Florida by Spain, in ■ History of the (Jnited Butes, 2d series III. 033. JAMES MOXROE. 79 1819, completing the work of annexa- tion commenced in the purchase of Louisiana. When the time for reelec- tion came round, so entire was the sub- sidence of party, that President Monroe was again chosen with but one dissent- ing vote, that of New Hampshire, which was given to John Quincy Adams. He continued to pursue a liberal policy of internal improvements within the limits of the Constitution, to forward the military defences on land, and the groAvth and employment of the navy at sea. The revolutionary movements in the Spanish provinces, in which he took an earnest interest, engaged much of his attention. The close of his administration was marked by the progress of Lafayette through the country, a subject to which he made special allusion in his last annual message. " A more interesting specta- cle," he said, with some reference per- haps to his own recollections, " it is believed was never witnessed, because none could be founded on purer princi- ples, none proceed from higher or more disinterested motives. That the feel- ings of those who had fought and bled with him in a common cause should have been much excited was natural. But the circumstance which was most sensibly felt, and which his presence brought to the mind of all, was the great cause in which we were engaged, and the blessings which we have de- rived from our success in it. The struggle was for independence and liberty, public and personal, and in this we siicceeded." President Moni'oe was a plain writer, not at all given to the graces of rhetoric ; had he been at all a man of eloquence, or trained in its liberal art, he could hardly have failed to impress some striking images of his past life in a retrospect of his memora- ble career. But this was not the na- ture or talent of the man. In the sim- plest words, he takes leave of the public; but to those who were ac- quainted with his life, as to himself, they were pregnant with meaning. " I cannot conclude this communication," ends his eighth annual message, " the last of the kind which I shall have to make, without recollecting, with great sensibility and heartfelt gratitude, the many instances of public confidence and the generous support which I have received from my fellow citizens in the various trusts with which I have been honored. Having commenced my ser- vice in early youth, and continued it since with few and short intervals, I have witnessed the great difficulties to which our Union has been exposed, and admired the virtue and courage with which they were surmounted." Mr. Monroe retired from Washing- ton to a temporaiy residence in Loudon County, where, time to a policy of usefulness which had governed him through life, he discharged the duties of Justice of the Peace. He was also one of the Board of Visitors of the University of Virginia, a body of nine appointed by the Governor every fourth year, who with the Rector have the entire direction of that important State institution. He was also chosen Presi- dent of the Convention which sat to revise the Constitution of Virginia, in the winter of 1829-30; but ill health, and the infirmities of advanced life. 80 JAMES MONROE. compelled him to retire from his seat before the adjoiirument of that l>ody. The (leatli of liis wife was uow added to his atHietion, and his home iu Vir- ginia being thus broken up, he removed to New York to dwell with his son-in- law, Mr. Samuel L. Gouverneur. His death liajipeneil sliortly after in this new home, on the Fourth of July, 1831, "the fliekering lamp of life holding its lingering flame as if to await the day of the nation's bii-th and glory."' He was buried with j)iiblic honors in the Marble Cemetery, in Second street, ^vhere his remains reposed till the sum- mer of 1858, when they were removed at the instance of the State of Vir- ginia to the niral cemetery of Holly- wood, on the banks of James Eiver, overlooking the city of Eichmond. They again received public honors ti-om New Yoik, and were escorted to their final restinix-]>lace bv the Seventh Eeei- ment of New York State troops, gene- rally known as the National Guard. The time chosen fi>r the new interment was the anniversary of his death, but as that day fell on Sunday, the funeral celebration at Richmond took place on the fifth of July. An address was deliv- ered at the grave by Governor AVise of Virginia, in which, after enumerating the events of the long and honorable public career of the departed, he dwelt xiytou. the circumstances of his burial. " Venerable patriot 1" was his language, •^he found his rest soon after he retired. On the Fourth of July, 1831, ' Joho Quincy Adanui twenty-seven years ago, lie departed, like Jeft'erson and Adams, on the anni- versary of Independence. His s])irit was caught up to heaven, and his a.shes were enshrined in the soil of his adopted State, whose daughter he had married; of that grand and pros])erous Commonwealtli Avhose motto is ' Excel- sior,' oui" sister New York, the Empire State of the United States of America Virginia was the natural mother of IMonroe, and New York Avas his mother- in-law ; Virginia by birth and liaptisni. New York by marriage and burial. This was well, for he gave to her inva- dei"S the glaived hand of ' bloody wel- come' at Trenton, and New York gave to him a ' liosi)itable grave.' Virginia respectfully allowed his ashes to lie lonff enoucrh to consecrate her sister's soil, and now has dutifully taken them to be ' earth to her earth and ashes to her ashes,' at home iu the land of his cradle." In pei-son President ^Monroe was tall and well formed, of light complexion and blue eyes. His long and accepta- ble public life bears Avitness to his personal and intellectual qualities. In the words of tlie sketch of the late Senator Benton just quoted, " his parts were not shining but solid. He lacked genius, but he possessed judgment ; and it was the remark of Dean SAvift, that geniiis was not necessary to the con- ducting of the atlairs of State ; that judgment, diligence, knowledge, good intentions and will were sufficient. Mr. Monroe was ;m instance of the soundness of this remark." V J, cj. . (Jid-iUVy^^ JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. We have already traced the lineage of John Quincy Adams. He comes nobly heralded upon the scene of our Revolutionary annals. His sturing re- lative, the zealous and always consist- ent Samuel Adams, the very front and seed-plot of obstinate rebellion, had taught the mechanics of Boston to resist, and his eloquence had reached the ears of men of influence throughout the colony and nation. His father, John Adams, thirty-two years old at the time of his birth, deeply grounded in the history of constitutional liberty and with the generous flame of freedom bui-ning brightly in his bosom from boyhood, was already prepared for that warm, enlightened, steady career of patriotism — never swerving, always true to his land — which bore him aloft, the chosen representative of New Eng- land to the Congress of his country, and ultimately to her highest authority ; while the nation in turn adopted him her express image in the important ne- gotiations at three of the great courts of Europe. Nor should we forget the tender, heroic mother, the child of sensibility and genius, hardened into the maturity and perfection of the female character by the fire of the Revolution, the gen- tle Abigail, in whose fail' friendship 11 and sympathies and feminine graceful- ness posterity has an ever-living parti- cipation through the delightful pages of her " Correspondence." Of that family, in a house adjoining the old paternal Braintree home, in the present town of Quincy, at this immi- nent moment of the Revolution, John Quincy Adams, the eldest son, was born July 11, 1161. He derived his baptismal name from his great-grand father, John Quincy, the time-honored representative of Quincy in the Colo- nial Legislature. The name was given by his grandmother, as her husband was dying. The incident was not for- gotten by the man. He recurred to it vsdth emotion, fortified by a sense of duty. In a sentence cited by his recent biographer, the venerable Josiah Quin- cy, he says : " This fact, recorded by my father at the time, is not without a moral to my heart, and has connected with that portion of my name a charm of mingled sensibility and devotion. It was filial tenderness that gave the name — it was the name of one passing from earth to immortality. These have been through life, pei-jietual admoni- tions to do nothing unworthy of it." It is interesting to trace the progress of the child in his mother's correspond- ence, from the infant lullaby which she 81 82 JOHN QTJINCY ADAMS. prattles to her husband, when " our daughter rocks him to sleep Mnth the song, ' Come, papa, come home to bro- ther Johnny.' The boy has just en- tered his eighth year, and his father is on his way to the Continental Congress at Pliiladolphia, Avhen she writes : " I have taken a very great fondness for reading Rollin's ' Ancient History,' since you left me. I am determined to go through with it if possible, in these my days of solitude. I find great ])lea- sure and entertainment from it, and I have persuaded Johnny to read me a page or two every day, and hope he w\\\, from his desire to oblige me, en- tertain a fondness for it." The child had some instruction at the village school, but he was especially taught by his father's law students, in the house. As the pressure of war increases, this resource is broken up. The anxious mother writes, " I feel somewhat lonely. Mr. Thaxter is gone home. Mr. llice is going into the army as captain of a company. We have no school. I know not what to do with John." In the summer of this year, 17Y5, " stand- ing," we are told, " with her on the summit of Penn's Hill, he heard the c^innon booming from the battle of Bimker's Hill, and saw the flames and smoke of burning Charlestown. Dur- insr the sieere of Boston he often climbed the same eminence alone, to watch the shells and rockets thrown by the Ame- rican army." * A letter from the boy himself, two years later, then at the age of ten, exhibits his youthful precocity. " I love," he writes to his father, " to ' Quincj'H Memoir, p. 8. receive letters very well — much better than I love to Avrite them. I make but a poor figure at composition ; my head is much too fickle. My thoughts are running after birds' eggs, play and tri- fles, till I get vexed with myself Mam- ma has a troublesome task to keep me steady, and I own I am ashamed of myself. I have but just entered the third volume of Smollett, though I had designed to have got half through it by this time. I have determined this week to be more diligent, as Mr. Thax- ter \nll be absent at court, and I can- not pursue ray other studies. I have set myself a stint, and determined to read the third volume half out." He asks for directions to proportion his time between play and Aviiting, and in a postscript says, " Sir, if you will be so irood as to favor me with a blank book, I will transcribe the most remark- able occurrences I meet with in my readinsr, which will serve to fix them upon my mind." * In this letter we may read the aged man backward, from his steadfast, methodical desk in the House of Representatives, to the little boy at his mother's side in Braiutree. The "childhood shows the man as morn- ing shows the day." He was an old- fashioned, studious youth, nurtured amidst grave scenes of duty, early in harness, a resolute worker from his cra^ die to his grave. The next year the boy is taken with his father, on board the frigate Boston, on his first mission to France ; followed, in her first letter after the separation, • This lotlor nppe^ra from tho m»nusoript in Mr. Ed- ward ETcrctl'g cloqucDt Fanouil HaU eulogy on Adam*. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. by this noble injunction of tlie mother : " Enjoin it upon him never to disgrace his mother, and to behave worthily of his father." The boy is a little man on the voyage, secm-ing the favor of the French gentlemen on board, who teach him their language. In a perilous storm which arose, his father records his inexpressible satisfaction at his be- havior, " bearing it with a manly pa- tience, very attentive to me, and his thoughts constantly running in a serious strain." When they arrive in France, and take up their lodgings with Ben- jamin Franklin at Passy, he is put to school with the sage's grandson, Benja- min Franklin Bache, in the neighbor- hood. At the close of this short sojoui-n abroad, his father sums up his advan- tages : " My son has had a great oppor- tunity to see this country ; but this has unavoidably retarded his education in some other things. He has enjoyed perfect health from first to last, and is respected wherever he goes for his vigor and vivacity, both of mind and body, for his constant good humor and for his rapid progress in Fi'ench as well as his general knowledge, which, for his age, is uncommon." * On the return voyage, in the Sensible, the Chevalier de la Luzerne, the minister to the Unit- ed States, and his secretary, M. Marbois, " are in raptures with my son. They get him to teach them the language. I found, this morning, the ambassador seated on the cushion in our state-room, M. Marbois in his cot, at his left hand, and my son stretched out in his, at his right ; the ambassador reading out ' Letters of John Adams to his wife, II. 64. loud in Blackstone's Discourse at his en- trance on his professorship of the com- mon law at the University, and my son coiTecting the pronunciation of every word and syllable and letter." ^ In November, father and son are at sea again in the Sensible, on their re- turn to France. This time they are landed in Gallicia, and pursue their way through the northern provinces of Spain to the French frontier. When the boy's Diary shall be published, tliat gigantic work which we are told he commenced on this second voyage, and continued, with few interi'uptions, through life, the world will doubtless get some picturesque notices of these foreign scenes, so hapjiily sketched in his father's note-book. The boy was again at school in France, and on his father's mission to Amsterdam, in the summer, was placed with an instructor under the wing of the venerable uni- versity of Leyden, where in January, 1781, with Franklin's con-espondent, Benjamin Waterhouse, tlien a student of medicine^ he went before the Rector Magnificus and was duly matriculated. His father's object in taking him to Leyden was to escape "the mean-spirit- ed Avi'etches," as he describes them, the teachers of the public schools at Am- sterdam. The youth, however, was not long at the University. His father's secretary, Francis Dana, having received the ap- pointment of minister to St. Petersburg, in July, took the boy of fourteen with him as his secretaiy. "In this capa- city," says Mr. Everett, " he was recog- ' John Adams' Sea Diary, June 19, 17Y9. Works, III. 214. 84 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. nized by Congress ; and there is, per- haps, no other case of a person so young being employed in a civil office of trust, under the government of the United States. But in Mr. Adams' career there was no boyhood." His know- ledge of Fi'ench, indeed, appears to have been of real service in interpret- ing between his chief and the French minister, the Marquis de Verac, with n'hom the negotiations were conducted at the Russian capital. In the autumn of the succeeding year he left St. Peters- burg fur a winter in Stockholm, and in the spring travelled alone through Sweden, Denmark and Germany to the Hague, where in INIay, 1773, ^ve hear of him in his father's correspondence, as again " pursuing his studies with groat ardor." He was present w\ih his father at the concluding peace negotia- tions at Paris, where he witnessed the signing of the memoi-able liuul treaty. The greater part of the next two years was passed in London and Paris, where he had now the society of liis mother. He is still the same vigilant student, while he assists his father'as his secre- tary. " He is a noble fellow," writes John Adams from Auteuil to Francis Dana at the close of 1784, "and will make a good Greek or Iloman, I hope, for he spends his whole time in their company, when he is not writing for " 1 me. When his father was appointed the first minister plenipotentiary to Eng- land, it wa.s but natural to suppose that the secretary who had shared his hum- bler labors would have desired to j)ar- tici])ale in the full-blown honors of the ■ John Adama' Works, IX. 627. royal court. There is not one youth in a thousand who would have resisted the temptation. For what does John Quincy Adams, at the age of eighteen, after his responsible duties in Russia, his independent sojourn in Stockholm, and intercourse with the l)rilliant Ame- rican circles in Paris, with Fiaiiklin at the centre, exchange the spleinlid pro- spect of life in the British metropolis ? For the leading-strings and restraints of Harvard, and a toilsome pupilage at the bar. The choice between inclina- tion and duty never was more temj)t- ingly presented. His own expression of the resolve is too memorable to be omitted. " I have been seven years travelling in Europe," he \\Tites, " see- ing the world and in its society. If I return to the United States, I must be subject, one or two years, to the rules of a college, pass thi-ee more in the tedious study of the law, before I can hope to bring myself into piofessional notice. The prospect is discouraging. If I accompany my father to London, my satisfaction would jirobably be greater than by returning to the United States ; but I shall loiter away my pre- cious time, and not go home until I am forced to it. My father has been all his lifetime occuj)ied by the interests of the public. His own fortune has suffered. His children must provide for themselves. I am determined to get my own living, and to be depend- ent upon no one. With a tolerable share of common sense, I hope in Ame- rica to be independent and free. Ra- ther than live otherwise, I would wish to die before my time." ' ' Quincf 'a Uemoir, p. i. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 85 With this creditable resolve he bore with him from his father a letter to BeDJamin Waterhouse, touching his ex- amination at Harvard. The solicitous parent, who had read some of the classics with his son, and forsaking the card-table, attempted even an introduc- tion to the higher mathematics, in which he failed, candidly admitting that these abstruse studies had quite departed fi-om him in thii-ty years' ut- ter unconsciousness of them, is anxious to imj^ress upon his friend those gene- ral acquisitions which might be ob- scured at an examination for want of some of the technicalities of instruction. Thus, while he had steadily pm-sued his studies, and made written transla- tions of the Jl^neid, Suetonius, Sallust, Tacitus' Agricola and Germany, and portions of the Annals, with a good part of Horace, he might be defective in quantities and parsing. Harvard, however, was not likely to be too inex- orable in her demands ; nor was the pupil likely to fell short of them. Af- ter a few mouths' readino- with the Eev. Mr. Shaw of Haverhill, he was admitted to the junior class in March, 1786, and continuing in the University long enough to leave a fragrant memo- ry of his scholarship and good princi- ples, received his degree the following year. His commencement oration, which was published, was on " The Im- portance and Necessity of Public Faith to the Well-being of a Community." He now engaged in a three years' course of the study of the law, with Theophilus Parsons, at Newburyport, in which he must have heard much from his vigorous-minded preceptor, who afterwards became chief justice of the State, of the struggle then going on for the adoption of the Constitution, Adams was admitted to the bar in 1790, and at once, as he long afterwards expressed it, " commenced what I can hardly call the jM'actice of the law in the city of Boston." For the first three years he had the usual opportunity of young lawyers for further study ; and unlike many of them, he availed him- self of it. A portion of his leisure was spent in the discussion of the impor- tant political questions of the day. He answered the plausible sophistries on government, of Paine's " Rights of Man," in a series of essays published in Rus- sell's " Columbian Centinel," signed Publicola; and in 1793, in the same journal, urged neutrality upon the country in the contest between Eng- land and France, and attacked the in- solent Genet in terms of wholesome indignation. This sei-vice, and doubt- less his father's great successes in Hol- land, led Washington's administration to appoint him, in 1791, minister to the Netherlands. His acceptance of this honorable position was at the cost of a rapidly developing legal practice, Ai-- riving in London in time to confer A'sdth Jay, whose British treaty was then getting adjusted, he reached Hol- land in season to witness the occupa- tion of the country by the French pro- pagandists. He remained at the Hague, availing himself of the opportunities and leisure of the place to add to those stores of knowledge ab-eady consider- able, which he had accumulated, with the exception of a few mouths passed in diplomatic business in England till 86 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. the summer of 1Y97, when he received the apjwintment of minister to Portu- gal. On his father's occupancy of the Presidency this was changed to the mission to Berlin. Before proceeding to his new post he passed over to Eng- land to claim the hand of a lady to Avhom he had become en^asced on a former visit, Miss Louisa Catharine Johnson, the daughter of the American consul at London. Adams felt at first a natural reluc- tance to accept an important office at the hands of his fatlier ; but his inde- pendence Avas reconciled to the step when he learned that it had been urtred by "Washington himself, who considered him fully entitled by his previous ser- vices, to diplomatic promotion. He now took lip his residence at Berlin. He was engaijed in this mission to the close of his father's administration. Durinf? this time he neirotiated a treaty of commerce with Prussia, and in the summer of 1800 made a considerable tour in Silesia. A number of letters' addi'essed to his brother in America, descriptive of this countiy, were pub- lished without his advice in the " Port Folio," and a few years after were issued in a volume by a London pub- lisher. In this collection they form a methodically \\Titten work, descriptive of the industry and resources of an in- teresting country with a comprehensive account of its liistory and geography. Adams also, durinsr his residence at Berlm, employed himself in several literary compositions, of which the most important was a j»oetical version of Wieland's " Obcron." He intended this for publication, but found that ' Sotheby, the English translator, had anticipated him. Several satires of Juvenal were also among his transla- tions. He moreover prepared for pub lication in America, a treatise of Frede rick de Gentz, " On the Origin and Principles of the American Revolution," which interested him by its appreciar tion of American princijiles of liberty, as contradistinguished from the license of the French Revolution. On his return to Boston, he turned his attention again to the study and re- sumed the practice of the law. He was not, however, suftered to remain long free from official emploj-ment. A few months after his anival he was called to the Senate of Massachusetts, and almost immediately chosen to the Sen- ate of the United States. It was at that period of the disintegration of the federal party when the old order of things was fast going out, and the new was not fully established. Adams, who was always inclined to think for himself, chose an independent position. In some things, as the constitutionality of taking possession of Louisiana, in the way in Avhich it was done, he oj> posed the administration ; in voting for the appropriation of the jnirchase mo- ney, he was •nnth it. When the jn'omi nent measiu-es of Jeftcrson's administra- tion in reference to England began to take shape in the Embargo, he was at variance with his colleague, Mr. Pick- ering. He Avas of opinion that submis- sion to British aggression was no longer a virtue. His course, which was considered a renunciation of federalism, created a storm in Massachusetts, where the legislatm-e, in anticipation of the JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. 87 usual period, elected a successor to Ms senatorial term. Upon tHs censure he immediately resigned. His retii'ement was cliaracteristic enoua;li. He liad teen some time be- fore, in 1S05, chosen professor of rhet- oric and oratory on the Boylston foun- dation at Harvard, and had delivered his Inaugural the following year. The preparation of these lectures, in the de- livery of which he now continued to be employed, called for fresh classical stu- dies ; but to study he was never averse, and it is the memorable lesson of his career, that the pursuits of literature are not only the ornament of political life, but the best safeguards of the per- sonal dignity of the politician, when, as must sometimes happen with an inde- pendent man, he is temporai'ily thrown out of office by party distractions. If he is then found, as Adams always was, making new acquisitions of learning, and preparing anew for public useful- ness, he must and will be respected, whichever way the popular favor of the moment may blow. ]Mi\ Adams con- tinued his duties at Harvard, reading lectures and presiding over the exer- cises in elocution till the summer of 1809. In the folio vs-ing year, his " Lec- tiu'es on Oratory, delivered to the Sen- ior and Junior Sophisters in Harvai'd University," were published at Cam- bridge. ]Mr. Edward Everett, who was at the time one of the younger students, bears witness to the interest with which these discoui'ses were received, not merely by the collegians but by various voluntaiy listeners from the neighborhood. " They foi-med," he says, " an era in the University, and were," he thinks, " the first successful attempt in the country at this form of instruction in any department of litera- ture." Immediately upon the entrance of INIadison upon the Presidency, Adams received the appointment of minister to Russia, the court which he had ap- proached, in his boyish secretaryship, dui'iug the Revolution, with Dana. He sailed from Boston early in August, 1809, in a merchant ship, for St. Peters- burg ; but from various detentions, a rough passage, and the vexatious exam- inations of the British cruisers in the Baltic, then blockading Denmark, he did not arrive in Russia tUl October. The commercial embarrassments, in the complicated relations of the great Na- poleonic wars of the time, witnessed on the voyage, in the detention and oppression of American ships, fui'nished his chief diplomatic business at the imperial court. As much as any man, perhaps, he aided in solving these international difficulties. He had a cordial reception at court on his first arrival, and as time wore on, having prepared the way by his interviews with Count Romanzoff, the chancellor of the empire, received a profter of mediation from the Emperor Alexan- der, between Great Britain and the United States, in the war which had now broken out. The offer was ac- cepted at home, and in the summer of 1813, he was joined at St. Petersburg by his fellow commissioners. Bayard and Gallatin, appointed for the negotia- tion. The mediation was not, however, accepted by Great Britain, though it proved a step forward to the final con- 88 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. ferences ami adjustment at Ghent. England proposed to treat directly at Gottenlnirg or London. The American government chose the former, and Adams was placed on the commission with Bayard, Chiy, Russell and Galla- tin, to negotiate. Before his arrival on the spot, he learnt that the conference was appointed at Ghent, whither he proceeded in the summer of 1814 ; and, after a protracted round of diplomacy, had the satisfaction of signing the Treaty of Peace the day before Christ- mas of that year. The scene of this event in that region which had wit- nessed his father's successes, and his early entrance upon the world, and above all, the event itself closing the gates of war, as his fiither again had signed the gi-eat pacification of 1783, must have been peculiarly gratifying, not merely to his patriotic pride, but to the love of method which character- ized his life. He may readily have recognized in it that covu^teous fate which so often marked the career of his famUy. K there is a political as well as a poetical justice, it was cer- tainly exhibited in the histoiy of John Quincy Adams, and his illustrious father. The coincidences are most striking. Adams having now closed his mis- sion to St. Petersbm-g, and having been appointed minister to Great Britain, was joined by his family from Russia, in Paris, where lie witnessed the return of Napoleon from Elba, and the com- mencement of the Hundred Days. It was one of those dramatic surprises of Parisian life, which we may expect to be faithfully rejiroseuted in Mr. Adams' Diary, when it shall be given to the world. We get, perhaps, a glimpse of his record in his biographer, Mr. Quiu- cy's naiTative. Napoleon, we are told, " alighted so silently, that Mr. Adams, who Avas at the Tiieatre Fran(;ais, not a quarter of a mile distant, was -una- ware of the fact till the next day, when the gazettes of Paris, which had show- ered execrations upon him, announced ' the arrival of his majesty, the empe- ror, at Tiis palace of the Tuileries.' In the Place du Carousel, Mr. Adams, in his morning walk, sa^v regiments of cavalry belonging to the garrison of Paris, which had been sent out to oppose Napoleon, pass in review before him, their helmets and the clasps of their belts yet glowing with the arms of the Bourbons. The theatres assumed the title of Imperial, and at the opera in the evening, the arms of the Empe- ror were placed on the curtain, and on the royal box." Adams, again respecting his father's precedents, took up his residence with his family in London. He was the American representative at the coiui; of St. James for t^vo years, when he was called by President Monroe to his cabinet as Secretary of State. His time in England was passed in the best society of books, things and men. After concluding the commercial rela- tions of the treaty, he removed from London to a retired residence, at Bos- ton House, Ealing, nine miles distant, where he found time — he could always make time — for his liberal studies. The year 181Y saw him agaiti in America, at Washington, the leading member of the new administration, iu JOHN QUINCT ADAMS. 89 tlie direct line of promotion to tlie Presidency. Old party lines were be- coming, or liad already become extinct. It was a period of fusion, " an era of good feeling," as it came to be called on the quiet reelection of Monroe. The chief diplomatic measures of Adams' secretaryship, had reference to Spain. He was always spirited in his assertions of the foreign policy of the country, and on this occasion was greatly instrumental in the negotiations which ended in the cession of Florida. One of his special services was the pre- paration of an elaborate Report on Weiojhts and Measures, at the call of Congress. He devoted six months of continuous labor to this production, entering into the subject philosophi- cally, and in its historical and practical relations. The report was made to Congress in Februaiy, 1821. Adams continued to hold his secre- taryship through both terms of Mon- roe's administration. At its close, he was chosen by the House of Represen- tatives his successor in the Presidency, the vote being divided between Jack- son, himself, Crawford and Clay, who decided the choice by throwing the vote of Kentucky in his favor. His administration, says Mr. Everett, in the address already cited, " was, in its prin- ciples and policy, a continuation of Ml-. Monroe's. The special object which he proposed to himself was to bind the distant parts of the country together, and i^romote their mutual prosjierity by increased facilities of communica- tion." There were many elements of opposition at work against a reelection, in the complicated struggles of the 12 times. Adams encountered a full mea- sure of unpopularity and retired— in political disaster, as well as in diplo- matic triumph, like his father — -to the shades of Quincy — that long retire- ment which had only recently ended in death. The dej^arture from the world of the elder Adams, occurred in the second year of his son's Presidency. Unlike the father, however, he was not to sit brooding over the past. Work, persistent work, was the secret of John Quincy Adams' life. Of a tough mental fi])re, there was no such thing as defeat, while he had a mind to contrive, a tongue to utter, or a hand to hold the pen. He was sixty-two at his retirement from the Presidency, within a few years of the age when his father was succeeded by Jefferson. Both felt the storm of unjirecedented party spirit and annoyance, and both yielded to great popidar heroes. Literature a(j:am offered her hand to her assiduous son. " His active, ener- getic spirit," we are told, " required neither indulgence nor rest, and he immediately directed his attention to those philosophical, literary and reli- gious researches, in which he took un- ceasing; delight. The works of Cicero became the object of study, analysis and criticism. Commentaries on that master-mind of antiquity were among his daily labors. The translation of the Psalms of Da\-id into Ensrlish verse was a frequent exercise ; and his study of the Scriptures was accompanied by critical remarks, pursued in the spirit of free inquiry, chastened by a solemn reference to their origin and influence on the conduct and hopes of human 90 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS. life. His favorite science, astronomy, led to the frequent observation of the planets and stars; and bis attention ■was also called to agriciiltiu-e and hor- ticulture, lie collected and i)lanted the seeds of forest trees, and kept a record of their development ; and, in the summer season, labored two or three lionrs daily in his garden. With these pui'suits were combined sketches preparatory to a full biography of his father, -which he then contemplated as one of his chief future employments.'" He was, however, again soon called into action, being elected, in November, 1830, by his district, to the House of Representatives. It was a novel spec- tacle — an ex-])resideut of the United States sitting in the lower house, but it was fidly in accordance -with the spirit of our institutions, Avhich honor all faithful servants of the public. Nor is it to be denied that at least equal talent may l>e called for, and equal influence exerted in the discharge of duties of public life, which to the eye of the world have a comparative inferiority of position. Power may Ije wielded hj a representative which may govern the administration itself. There are many acts of our legislative bodies more potential than the simple acquies- cence of the E.xecutive ; as the origina- tor of a measure or line of policy must be of more consequence than the instru- ment which gives it effect. For more than sixteen years Adams labored at his seat in the House. He was the most punctual man of the assembly, always on the alert ; cool, resolute, even ' JosUh Quincy'e Biography, p. 175-6. pugnacious. There was scarcely a ques- tion, involving a point of morality, of national honor, or of literaiy and philo- sophical cultuie, on which his voice was not heard. He supported the de- mands of Jackson uj)on France ; he asserted and successfully maintained the right of petition against vast obloquy and opposition ; he was especially in- strumental in the establishment of the National Observatoiy, and the Smithso- nian Institution. A bare enumeration of his speeches, Amtings and addresses, would fill the space assigned to this sketch — lectures and addresses on points of law, government, history, biography and science, moral and social, local and national, before sena- tors and before youths, on anniversa- ries of towns, on eras of the State, eulogies on the illustrious dead, on Madison, Monroe, Lafayette, the oration at the Jubilee of the Constitution. As he had lived, so he died in har- ness. Death found him where he could have ^vished its approach, in the halls of Congress. His rolmst powers of body and mind had held out surjwis- ingly, as his vigor, no less than his venerable appearance in the House, enforced an authority not always read- ily conceded to the persistence in unpopular appeals of "the old man eloquent." He was approaching eighty : still in the exercise of his extraordinary focultios, when, in a recess of Congress, walkinix in the streets of Boston, in November, 1846, he was stncken by paral^'sis, from which, nevertheless, he recovered in time to take his seat in Congress early in the year. The House rose to greet him, and he was conducted JOHN QUmCT ADAMS. 91 to his chair with marked honors. He felt, however, his approach to the grave. There is a most touching evi- dence of this in the anecdote related by Mr. Everett. His journal, the diary of his long life, internipted the day of his attack, was resumed after an inter- val of nearly four months, -with the title, " Posthumous Memoir." Writino- in its now darkened pages, he says of the day when it was interrupted, "From that hour I date my decease, and consider myself, for every useful purpose to myself and fellow creatures, dead ; and hence I call this, and what I may hereafter write, a posthumous memoir." He continued in the House another year, when the final messenger came, on Monday morning, the twenty-first of Febi-uaiy, 1848. After passing a Sunday in hannony with his elevated religious life, he was obsei-ved to ascend the steps of the Capitol with his accus- tomed alacrity. As he rose, with a paper in his hand, to address the Speaker in the House, he was seized by a return of paralysis, and fell, uttering, "this is the last of earth — I am content." He was taken, as the House adjourned, to an adja- cent room, where he lingered over Washington's bii-thday till the twenty- third, when he died in the speaker's apartment, under the roof of the Cap- itol. His remains were taken to Bos- ton, reposed in state in old Faneuil Hall, and were quietly laid by the side of his parents, in a grave at Quincy. The lesson of such a life is plain. Labor, conscientiousness, religious duty; talent borne out to its utmost stretch of performance by the industrious im- provement of every opportunity; the selfrewarding pursuits of letters and science, in the gratification of an insar tiable desire for knowledge ; a constant invigoration of the moral powers by the strenuous discharge of duty ; inde- pendence bought by selfdenial and prudence, enjoying its wealth — the calm temper, the untroubled life — in the very means of acquiring it. How noble an illustration of the powers of life ! When the correspondence and Di- aiy, which Adams maintained through his long life, shall be published— when his wi'itings shall be collected fi-om the stray sheets in which they have been given to the vrinds, when the literaiy aids, due to his memory, shall be gathered in the library about his fair fame, there will be seen an enduring monument of a most honorable life of public service and mental activity. ANDREW JACKSON. Pew of the eminent men of America, whose acts are recorded in these pages, enterepropriations for the navy, and against the black mail paid to Al- giers. Ilis success in the Indian bill was well calculated to please his con- stituents, and he was accordingly re- turned the next year to the Senate. It was the first session of the new admin- istration, and all that is told of his ap- pearance on the floor is the remark of Jefferson in his old age to Daniel Webster, that he had often seen him, from his Vice President's chair, attempt to speak, and "as often choke ■^^'ith rajre." Mr, Parton adds to this recollec- tion the bare fact that he made the acquaintance of Duane of the " Au- rora," Aaron BmT and Edward Liv- ingston, lie retired before the end of the session, and resigned his seat. Private affairs called him home ; but he could not have been well adapt- ed to senatorial life, or he did not like the position, else he would have man- aged to retain it. It was an honor not to be thrown away lightly by an ambi- tious young man. We next behold him chosen by the legislature a judge of the Supreme Court of Tennessee — a post, one would think, of severer requisitions than that of United States senator, since a mem- ber of a legislative body may give a silent vote or be relieved of an onerous committee, while the occu])ant of the bench is continually called uj>on to ex- ercise the best faculties of the mind. It is to Jackson's credit that he lu-ld the position for six years, during which, as population flowed into the State and interests became more involved, the requisitions of the oflice must have been continually becoming more exact- inar. Its duties earned him to the chief towns of the State, where he was exposed to the observation of better read la\vyei"s than himself. As no re- cord was kept of his decisions, we have to infer the manner in which he ac- quitted himself from what we know of his qualifications. He no doubt made himself intelligible enough on sinq)le_. questions and decided courageously and honestly what he understood ; but in any nice matter he must have been at fault from Avant of skill in statement, if we may judge of his talents in this respect by his printed correspondence, which is ill spelt, ungrammatical and confused. His personal energy, however, doubt- less helped him on occasion, as in the famous anecdote of his arrest of Russell Bean. This strong villain, infuriated by his personal wrongs, was at war with society, and bade defiance to jus- tice. It was necessary that he should be brought before the court where Jackson presided, but it was pro- nounced impossible to arrest him. The sheriff and his posse had alike failed, when the difficulty was solved by the most extraordinary edict which ever issued from the bench. " Summon me," said the judge to the law officer. It ANDREW JACKSON. 99 waa done and the arrest was made. It is curious to read of a judge of the Su- preme Court planning duels and rough personal encounter with the governor of the State, as we do of Judge Jack- son in his quarrel with Governor Se- vier. No stronger evidence could be afforded of the imperfect social condi- tion of the country. It was a rude, un- finished time, when life was passed in a fierce personal contest for supremacy, and wrongs real and iraaginaiy were righted at sight by the pistol. This period of Jackson's career, including the ten years following the retu-ement from the bench, are filled ivith prodi- gious strife and altercation. The duel- ling pistols are always in sight, and dreary are the details of wretched personal quarrels preliminary to their use. The first of these encounters in which Jackson was a principal occurred as early as 1795, when he was emjafi^ed in com't and challenged the opjjosite counsel on the spot for some scathing remark, waiting his message on the blank leaf of a law book. Shots were exchanged before the parties slept. The most prominent of Jackson's alter- cations, however, was his duel with Dickinson, a meeting noted among nar- ratives of its class for the equality of the combat, and the fierce hostility of the parties. It was fought in 1806, on the banks of Red River in Kentucky. Charles Dickinson was a thriving young la^vye^ of Nashville, who had used some invidious expressions regarding Mrs. Jackson. These were apologized for and overlooked when a roundabout quarrel arose out of the terms of a horse race, which, after involving Jack- son in a caning of one of the parties, and his friend CoflTee in a duel with another, ended in bringing the former in direct collision -with Dickinson. A duel was an-anged. The principals were to be twenty-four feet apart, and take their time to fire after the word was given. Both were excellent shots, and Dickinson, in particular, was sure of his man. So certain was Jackson of being struck, that he made up his mind to let his antagonist have the first fire, a deliberate conclusion of great courage and resolution, based on a very nice calculation. He knew that his antagonist would be quicker than himself at any rate, and that if they fired together his own shot would probably be lost in consequence of the stroke he must undoubtedly receive from the coming bullet. He conse- quently received the fire, and was hit as he expected to be. The ball, aimed at his heart, broke a rib and grazed the breast bone. His shoes w^ere fiUinar with blood as he raised his pistol, took deliberate aim, re-adjusted the tiigger as it stopped at half cock, and shot his adversary through the body. Dickin- son fell, to bleed to death in a lona: day of agony. Jackson desired his own wound to be concealed, that his opponent might not have the gratifica- tion of knowing that he had hit him at all. Such was the courage and such the revenge of the man.^ After leaving the judgeship, Jackson — he was now called General Jackson, ' The details of this affair with all its preliminaries, oc- cupy forty octavo pages of Mr. Farton's narrative— « curious and most instructive picture of the times. 100 ANDREW JACKSON. having been chosen by the field officers major general of the State militia in ISOl, gaining the distinction by a sin- gle vote — employed himself on his plantation, the Hermitage, near Nash- ville, and the storekee})ing in which he had been more or less engaged since his arrival in the country. In partner- ship with his relative, Coffee, he was a large exchanger of the goods of the "West for the native produce, which he shipped to New Orleans ; and it was for his opportunities of aiding him in procuring provisions, as well as for his general influence, that Colonel Burr cultivated his acquaintance in his west- ern schemes in 1805, and the following year. General Jackson, at first fasci- nated by the man, who stood well with the people of the countiy as a repur)li- can, introduced him into society and entertained him at his house ; but when suspicion was excited by his measures, he was guarded in his inter- course, and stood clearly forth on any issue which miijht arise, involvincc the preservation of the integrity of the Union. On that point no friendship could bribe him. Accordingly he offered his services to President Jeffer- son, and, receiving orders to hold his command in readiness, there was great military bustle of the major general in Nashville, raising and reviewing com- j>anies, to inteiTupt the alarming jm'o- ceedings of Colonel BuiT on the Ohio. Wlien it was found that there was no- thing formidable to arrest, Jackson's feeling of regai'd for Burr revived, he acquitted him of any treasonable in- tent, and resolutely took his part dur- ing the trial at Richmond. On the breaking out of the war witt England, in 1812, General Jackson was one of the first to tender his services to the President. He called togethta* twenty-five hundred volunteers and placed them at the disposal of the Government. The proffer was acce])t- ed, and in December Jackson was set in motion at the head of two thousand men to join General Wilkinson, then in command at New Orleans. The season was unusually cold and incle- ment ; but the troops, the best men of the State, came together with alacrity, and by the middle of Febniaiy were at Natchez, on the Mississippi. Jack- sou's tiieud and relative. Colonel Cof- fee, led a movmted regiment overland, while the rest descended the river. Colonel Thomas II. Benton also ap- pears on the scene as General Jackson's aid. At Natchez, the ]iarty was ar- rested by an order from Wilkinson, and remained in inaction for a month, when a missive came from the War Depaii;- ment disbandinc: the force. Thus was nipped in the bud the ai-dent longing of the general, and the promise of one of the finest bodies of men ever raised in the country. Jackson, taking the responsibility, resolved that they should not be dismissed till, as in duty bound, he had returned them home. He ac- cordingly led them back by land, and so solicitous was he for their welfare by the way, so jealous of theii" rights, carelessly invaded by the government, that his popularity with the men was unbountled. The fier}^ duellist, " sud- den and quick in quarrel," gained by his patient kindness and endurance on that march, the endearing appellation, ANDREW JACKSON. 101 destined to be of world-wide fame — Old Hickory. He had taken, as we have said, the responsibility in bringing home the troops. This involved an assumption of theii" debts by the way, for it was not certain, though to be presumed, that the government would honor his drafts for the expenses of transporta- tion. It did not. The paper was pro- tested and returned upon his hands. In this strait. Colonel Benton, going to Washington, undertook the manage- ment of the affair, and by a politic ap- peal to the fears of the administration, lest it should lose the vote of the State, secured the pajinent. As he was about returning to Nashville, warmed by this act of friendship, he received word fi'om his brother that General Jackson had acted as second in a duel to that brother's adversary — a most ungracious act, as it appeared, at a moment when the claims of gratitude should have been uppermost. The explanation was that Carroll, who received the challenge, was unfairly assailed, and apj:)ealed, as a friend, to the generosity of Jackson to protect him. Taking a duel very much as an everyday affau-, the latter proba- bly thought little of the absent Benton. The meeting came off, and Jesse Ben- ton was wounded. An angiy letter was ^vl'itten to Jackson by his brother, who came on to Nashville, venting his wrath in the most denunciatory tenns — ^for Benton's vocabulary of abuse, though not more condensed, was more richly furnished with expletives than that of his general. This coming to the hearing of Jackson, he swore his big oath, "by the Eternal, that he would horsewhip Tom Benton the first time he met hira." The Bentons knew the man, did not despise the threat, but waited armed for the onset. It came off one day at the door of the City Ho- tel in Nashville. There were several persons actors and victims in the affair. These are the items of the miserable business. The two Bentons are in the doorway as Jackson and his friend Co- lonel Coffee approach. Jackson, with a word of warning to Benton, brandish- es his riding-whip ; the Colonel fum- bles for a pistol ; the General presents his own, and at the instant receives in his arm and shoulder a slug and bullet from the barrel of Jesse Benton, who stands behind. Jackson is thus di'opped, weltering in his blood •with a desperate •wound. Coffee thereupon thinking Tom Benton's pistol had done the work, takes aim at him, misses fire, and is makinsr for his victim with the butt end, when an opportune cellar stair- way opens to the retreating Colonel, who is precipitated to the bottom. Meanwhile Stokely Hays aiTives, intent on plunging the sword, which he drew from his cane, into the body of Jesse Benton. He deals the thrust with unc- tion, but striking a button, its force is lost and the weapon shivered. A struo'f^le on the floor then ensues be- tween the jiarties, the fatal dagger of Hays being raised to transfix his wound- ed victim, when it is intercepted by a bystander, and the murderous and bloody work is over. Such was the famous Benton feud. It laid Jackson ingloriously up for several weeks, and drove Colonel Benton to Missouri There was a long interval of mutual 102 ANDREW JACKSON. hostile feeling, to be succeeded by a devoted friendship of no ordinary in- tensity. This Benton affray took place on the 4th of September, 1813. A few days before, on the 30th of August, oc- curred the massacre by the Creek In- dians of the garrison and inhabitants at Fort Muums, a frontier post in the southern pai-t of Alabama. A large number of nei^hborinjj settlers, anxious for their safety, had taken refuge with- in the stookaele. The assailants took it by surprise, and though the defend- ers fought with courage, but few of its inhabitants escajied the terrible car- nage. The Indians were led by a re- doubtable chieftain, named Weathers- ford, the son of a white man and a Se- minole mother, a leader of sagacity, of great bravery and heroism, and of no ordinary magnanimity. lie was unable, however, to arrest, as he would, the fiendish atrocities committed at the fort. Women and children were sacrificed in the horrible racje for slauiih- ter, and the bloody deed Avas aggrava- ted by the most indecent mutilations. A cry was spread through the South- west similar to that raised in our own day in India, at the Sepoy brutalities. Vengeance was demanded alike for safety and retribution. On the 18th of Sej)tembor the news had reached Nashville, four hundred miles distant, and General Jackson was called into consultation as he sat, utterly disabled with his Benton wounds, in his sick- room. It was resolved that a large body of volunteers should be sum- moned, and, ill as he was, he promised to take command of them when they were collected. Still suffering severely, before they were ready to move he joined them at Fayetteville, the jjlace of meeting. lie arrived in camp the seventh of October, and began his work of organizing the comi)anies. Ever}'thing was to be done in drill and preparation for the advance into a vol- dcrness Avhere no supplies were to lie had ; yet in four days, a report having reached him that the enemy were ap- pro.aohing, he led his troops, about a thousand men, an afternoon march of thirty-two miles in six hours to Ilunts- ville. The Indians, however, were not yet at hand, and joining Colonel Coffee, whom he had sent forward Avith a cav- alry command, on the banks of the Tennessee, he was reluctantly com- pelled to wait there too long a time for his impatience, till something could be done in providing stores, in which the army was lamentably deficient. A post was established on the river named Fort Deposit, whence Jackson, still inadecpiately }>rovided, set out, on the twenty-fifth of the month, on his southward march, and carried his force to an encampment at Ten Islands, on the Coosa River. There Coffee was detached to attack a body of In- dians at their town of Talluschatches, He performed the service with equal skill and gallantry ; and though the Creeks, as thej" did throughout the Avar, fought -with extraordinary valor, urged on by religious fanaticism, he gained a brilliant victory. One of the incid(Mits of the bloody field was the accidental slauirhter of an Indian mo- ther clasping her infent to her breast The child was earned to Jackson, who ANDREW JACKSON. 103 had it tenderly cared for, and finally taken to his home. The boy, named Lincoyer, was brought up at the Her- mitage, and suitably provided for by the general. The next adventure of the campaign was an expedition led by Jackson him- self to relieve a camp of friendly In- dians at Talladega, invested by a large band of hostile Creeks. The very night on which he received the message asking aid, brought by a runner who had escaped from the beleaguered fort in disguise, he started with a force of two thousand men, eight hundred of whom were mounted, and in a long day's march through the wilderness traversed the intervening distance, some thirty miles, to the neighborhood of the fort. The dawn of the next morning saw him apj^roaching the ene- my — a thousand picked warriors. Dis- posing the infantry in three lines, he placed the cavalrj^ on the extreme wings, to advance in a curve and in- close the foe in a circle. A guard was sent forward to challenge an engage- ment. The Indians received its fire and followed in pursuit, when the front line was ordered up to the combat. There was some misunderstanding, and a portion of the militia composing it retreated, when the general promptly supplied their place by dismounting a corps of cavalry kept as a reserve. The militia then rallied, the fire became general, and the enemy were repulsed in every direction. They were pursued by the cavalry and slaiightered in great numbers, two hundred and ninety being left dead on the field and many more bore the mai'ks of the engagement. The American loss was fifteen killed and eighty-five wounded. The friendly Creeks came forth from the fort to thank their deliverers, and share with them theii' small supjjly of food. This was emphatically, contrary to all the rules of war, a hungry campaign. On his return to his camp, to which, having been fortified, the name Fort Strother was given, Jackson found the supplies which he had urgently demand- ed, and which he so much needed, not yet arrived. His private stores, which had been bought and forAvarded at his expense, were exhausted to relieve the wants of his men. He himself, mth his oflSlcers, subsisted on imseasoued tripe, like the poor and proud Spanish grandee in the Adventure of Lazarillo de Tormes, eulogizing the horse's foot, maintaining that he liked nothing bet- ter. The story is told of a starving soldier approaching him at this time with a request for food. " I will give you," said the general, " what I have," and with that he drew from his pocket a few acorns, " my best and only fare." * Food, food, was the constant cry of Jackson in his messages to the rulers in the adjoining States. It was long in comins:, and in the meanwhile the commander, eager to follow up his suc- cesses and close the war, was con- demned to remain in inactivity — the hardest trial for a man of his temper. Scant subsistence and the hardships common to all encampments brought discontent. The men longed to be at home, and symptoms of revolt began to api^ear. The militia actually com- > Eaton's Life of Jnckson, p. 66. 104 ANDREW JACKSON. menced their niarcli backward ; but they liad reckoned without tlieir loader. On starting they found the volunteers drawn up to ojij)ose theii" progress, and abandoned their design. Such was the force of Jackson's authority in the camp, that when these volunteers, Avho •were in reality disappointed that the movement did not succeed, attempted in their turn to escape, they were in like manner met bj' the militia. The occasion required all Jackson's ingenii- ity and resolution, and ])oth Avere freely expended. His iron will had to yield something in the way of compromise. Appealing to his men, he secured a band of the most impressible to remain at Fort Strother, while he led the rest in quest of j)ro visions toward Fort De- posit. The understanding was that they were to return \vith him when food was obtained. They had not gone far when they met a drove of cat- tle on their way to the camp. A feast was enjoyed on the spot ; but the men were still intent on going homeward. Nearly the whole brigade was I'eady for motion, when Jackson, who had ordered their return, was iufornied of their intention. His resolution was taken on the instant. He summoned his staff, and gave the command to fire on the mutineers if they attempted to proceed. One comjiany, alreatly on the way, was thus turned back, when, going forth alone among the men, he found the movement likely to become general. There was no choice in his mind but resistance at the peril of his life, for the men once gone, the whole campaign was at an end. Seizing a musket, he rested the barrel ou the neck of his horse — he was unable, from his wound, to use his left arm — and threatened to shoot the first who should attempt to advance. An intimation of this kind from Jackson was never to be despised. The men knew it, and re- turned to their post. They yielded to the energy of a superior mind, but they were not content. Their next resource was, an assertion of the termi- nation of their year's enlistment, which they said would expire on the tenth of December ; but here they were met by the astute la^\^•er, who reminded them that they were pledged to serve one year out of two, and that the year must be an actual service in the field of three hundred and sixty-five days. The ai-gument, however, failed to con- vince, and as the day approached the men were more resolute for theii* de- parture. They addressed a courteous letter to their commander, to which he replied in an earnest expostulatory ad- dress. " I know not," he said, " what scenes will be exhibited on the tenth instant, nor what consequences are to flow from them here or elsewhere ; but as I shall have the consciousness that they are not imputable to any mis- conduct of mine, I trust I shall have the firmness not to shrink from a dis- charge of my duty." The appeal was not heeded, and on the evening of the ninth the signs of mutiny were not to be mistaken. The general took his measures accordingly. He ordered all oflicers and soldiers to their duty, and stationed the artillery company with their two pieces in front and rear, while he posted the militia on an eminence in advance. He himself rode alonii ANDREW JACKSON. 105 the line and addressed the men, in their companies, with great earnestness. He talked of the disgrace theii- conduct would bring upon themselves, their fixmilies and country ; that they would succeed only by passing over his dead body : while he held out to them the prospect of reinforcements. "I am too," he said, " in daily expectation of receiving information whether you may be discharged or not ; until then, you must not and shall not retire. I have done with entreaty ; it has been used long enough. I will attempt it no more. You must now determine whe- ther you will go, or peaceably remain : if you still persist in your determina- tion to move forcibly off, the point be- tween us shall soon be decided." There was hesitation. He demanded a posi- tive answer. Again a slight delay. The artillerist was ordered to prepare the match. The word of sui-render passed along the line, and a second tiine the rebellious volunteers suc- cumbed to the will of theii- master. These, it should be stated, were the very men, the original company, whom Jackson had carried to Natchez, and for whose welfare on theii' retui-n he had pledged his property. But in vain he reminded them of the fact, and ap- pealed to theu" sense of generosity to remain in the service. He gave them finally the choice to proceed to Tennes- see or remain with him. They chose the former, and he let them go. The men he had left -vdth him were enlisted for short periods, or so under- stood it. There was little to build upon fur the campaign, and he was even advised by the Governor of Teu- 14 nessee, to abandon the prosecution of the war, at least for the present, or till the administration at Washington should provide better means for carry- ing it on. This was not advice, des- perate as aj)peared the situation, to be accepted by Jackson. His reply was eminently characteristic — charged ^vith a determined self-reliance which he sought to infuse into his coiTespondent. "Take the responsibility" is written all over it. "If you would preserve your reputation," he writes, " or that of the State over which you preside, you must take a straightforward, deter- mined com-se ; regardless of the ap- plause or censure of the populace, and of the forebodings of that dastardly and designing crew, who, at a time like this, may be expected to clamor con- tinually in joxa' ears. The very wretches who now beset you with evil counsel, will be the fii'st, should the measiu'es which they recommend event- uate in disaster, to call down impreca- tions on your head, and load you with reproaches. Yovir country is in dan- ger: apply its resources to its defence! Can any course be more plain ? Do you, my fiiend, at such a moment as the present, sit with your arms folded and your heart at ease, waiting a solu- tion of yoiu' doubts and a definition of youi" powers ? Do you wait for spe- cial instraction 6-om the Secretary of War, which it is impossible for j-ou to receive in time for the danger that threatens ?" The governor had said that his power ceased with the call for troops. " Widely different," replies Jackson, " is my opinion. You are to see that they come when they are 106 ANDREW JACKSON. called. Of what avail is it," lie urgea with an earnestness savoring of sarcasm, " to give an onler if it be never executed, and may be disobeyed ^vith impunity ? Is it by empty mandates that we can hope to conquer our enemies and save our defenceless frontiers from butchery and devastation? Believe me, my valued friend, there are times when it is highly criminal to shrink from responsibility or scruple about the exercise of our powers. There are times when we must disregard punctilious etiquette and think only of serving our country." He also presented, in like forcible terms, the injiu-ious effects of abandon- ing the frontiers to the mercy of the savage. The governor took the advice to heart, pointedly as it Avas given ; he ordered a fresh force of twenty-five huncb-ed militia into the field, and seconded General Jackson's call upon General Cocke for the troops of East Tennessee. Meantime, however, Jack- son's force at Fort Strother was re- duced to a minimum ; the militia, en- listed for short terms, would go, and there was great difficulty in getting new recruits on to supply their places. The brave Coffee failed to reenlist his old regiment of cavalry. There was a strange want of alacrity through the early period of this war, in raising and disciplining the militia. With a pro- per force at his command, duly equipped and su]i]ilied, Jackson would have brought the savages to tenns in a month. As it was, nearly a year elapsed ; but the fighting period, when he was once ready to move, was of short duration. While he was waiting for the new Tennessee enlistments, he detennined to have one bnish Avith the enemy with such troops as he had. He according- ly set in motion his little force of eight hundred raw recruits on the fifteenth of January, on an exciu-sion into the Indian ten-itory. At Talladega he was joined by between two and three hun- dred friendly Cherokees and Creeks, with whom he advanced against the foe, who were assembled on the banks of the Tallapoosa, near Emuckfau. He reached their neighborhood on the night of the twenty-first, and prepared his camp for an attack before morning. The Indians came, as was expected, about dawn ; were repulsed, and when daylight afforded the opportunity, were pm-sued -with slaughter. There^ was another sharp conflict al)out the middle of the day, which ended in a Anctoiy for the Americans, at some cost to the conquerors, who, ill prepared to keep the field, Hioved back toward the fort. Enotochopco Creek was reached and crossed by a part of the force, when the Indians fell upon the rear guard, who turned and fled ; the artil- lery, however, still left on that side of the river, gave the savages a warm re- ception, "vvhen they were pursued by the cavalry, which had recrossed the stream. By this time the countiy was roused to some adequate support of its gene- ral in the field. At the end of Feliiii- ary, Jackson was reinforced by the ar- rival at Fort Strother of a force from East and West Tennessee of about five thousand men. By the middle of the next month he was in motion, terribly in earnest for a short and eunmiary ex.- ANDREW JACKSON. 107 th-pation of the savages. The execu- tion of John Woods, a Tennessee youth who had shown some insubordi- nation in camp, was a prelude to the approaching tempest. The commander thought it necessary to the unity and integrity of the service. Fortunately for the pm-poses of this new invasion, the chief warriors of the nation assem- bled themselves at a jjlace convenient enough for defence, but where defeat was ruin. It was at Tohopeka, an In- dian name for the horse-shoe bend of the Tallapoosa, an area of a huncbed acres inclosed by the deep waters of the river and protected at its junction with the land by a heavy breastwork of logs pierced for musketry and skill- fully arranged for defence. Within this inclosui-e, at the time of Jackson's arrival, on the twenty-seventh of March, with less than three thousand men, in- cluding a regiment of regulars under Colonel Williams, were assembled some eight or nine hundred warriors of the Creeks. The plan of attack was thus arranged. Sending General Coffee to the opposite side of the river to effect a diversion in that quarter, Jackson himself directed the assault on the works at the neck. He had two field pieces, ^vhich were advantageously planted on a neighboring eminence. His main reliance, however, was at close quarters with his musketry. On the river side General Coffee succeeded in inclosing the bend and cutting off escape by the canoes, which he cap- tui-ed by the aid of his fi-iendly In- dians, and used as a means of landing in the rear of the enemy's position. This success was the signal for the as- sault in front. Regulars and voluu- teers, eager for the contest, advanced boldly up. Reaching the rampart, the struggle was for the port-holes, through which to fire, musket meeting musket in the close encounter. " Many of the enemy's balls," says Eaton, "were welded between the muskets and bay- onets of our soldiers. Major Monto-o- mery, of Williams's regiment, led the way on the rampart, and fell dead sum- moning his men to follow. Others succeeded and the fort was taken. In vain was the fight kept up within, from the shelter of the fallen trees, and equally hopeless was the attempt at escape by the river. No quarter was asked, and none given, for none would be received. Women and children were the only prisoners. It was a des- perate slaughter. Nearly the whole band of Indians perished, selling their lives as dearly as possible. The Ame- rican loss was fifty-five killed and about thrice the number wounded ; but the Cherokee dead were to be counted by hundreds. Having strack this feai-ftil blow, Jackson retired to Fort Williams, Avhich he had built on his march, and issued, as was his wont — he was quite equal to Napoleon in this respect — an inspiriting address to his troops. If the words are not always his, the sen- timent, as his biographer- suggests, is ever Jacksouian. Somebody or other was always found to give expression to his ardent ejaculations, which need only the broad theatre of a European battlefield to vie with the thrilling manifestoes of Bonaparte. " The fiends of the Tallapoosa will no longer m;n-- der our women and children, or disturb 108 ANDREW JACKSON. the quiet of our borders. Their mid- niffht flaiiil>eaux will no more illumine their council-house, or shine upon the victim of their infernal orgies." The gratifying event was nearer even than the general anticipated. He looked for a further struggle, but the si)irit of the nation was broken. Advancing southward, he joined the troops from the south at the junction of the Coosa and Tallapoosa, the '"Holy Ground" of the Indians, where he received their offers of submission. The brave chief- tain, Weathersford, voluntarily surren- dered himself. A portion of the In- dians fled to Florida. Those who were left were ordered to the northern parts of Alabama, Fort Jackson being established at the confluence of the rivers to cut off their communication with foreign enemies on the seaboard. The war had originally grown out of the first EnEflish successes and the movements of Tecumseh on the north- ern frontier, and was assisted by Span- ish sjTupathy on the Gulf. Jackson was now at liberty to retirrn to Nashville vrith the troops who had shared his victories. He had of course a triumphant reception in Tennessee, and his services were rewarded at Washington by the appointment of major general in the army of the Unit- ed States, the resignation of General Hamson at the moment placing this high honor at the disposal of the gov- ernment. It was an honor well de- served, earned by long and patient ser- vice under no ordinary difficulties — difficulties inherent to the position, aggravated by the delays of others, and some, formidable enough to most men, which he carried ^vith him bound up in his own frame. We so naturally associate health and bodily vigor with brilliant military achieve- ments that it reqiiiros an effort of the mind to figure Jackson as he really was in these campaigns. We have seen him carrying his arm in a sling, unable to handle a musket when he confronted his retiring army ; but that was a slight inconvenience of his wound compared "with the gnawing disease which was preying upon his system. " Chronic diarrhrea," says his biographer, " was the form which his complaint assumed. The slightest im- prudence in eating or drinking brought on an attack, during which he suffered intensely. While the paroxysm lasted he could obtain relief only by sitting on a chair with his chest against th back of it and his arms dangling for ward. In this position he was some times compelled to remain for hours. It often happened that he was seized mth the familiar pain while on the march through the woods at the head of the troops. In the absence of other means of relief he would have a sap- ling half severed and bent over, upon which he would hang with his arms downward, till the agony subsided."' In July, General Jackson was again at the South on the Alabama, jiresid- ing at the treaty conference with the Indians. The terms he proposed were thought hard, but he was inexorable in requiring them. The treaty of Fort Jackson, signed on the tenth of Au- gust, stripped the Creeks of more than ' Parton's J»okson, I. 647-8. ANDREW JACKSON. 109 half of their possessions, confining them to a region least inconvenient to the peaceful enjoyment of the neigh- boring States. " As a national mark of gratitude," the friendly Creeks be- stowed ujion General Jackson and his associate in the treaty, Colonel Haw- kins, three miles square of land to each, with a request that the United States Government Avoidd ratify the gift : but this, though recommended to Congress by President Madison, was never carried into eflect. While the treaty \#is still under ne- gotiation, Jackson was intent on the pext movement of the war, which he foresaw would cany him to the shores of the Gulf He knew the sympathy of the Spaniards in Florida with the English, and was prepared for the de- signs of the latter against the southern country. Having obtained informa- tion that British muskets were distri- buted among the Indians, and that English troops had been landed in Flo- rida, he applied to the Secretary of War, General Ai-mstrong, for jiermis- sion to call out the militia and reduce Pensacola at once. The matter was left to the discretion of the commander, but the letter conferring the authority did not reach him for sLx months. In the mean time he felt compelled to take the management of the war into his own hands. Fully aware of the im- pending struggle, he was in correspond- ence with Governor Claiborne of Lou- isiana, putting him on his guard, and with Mam'equez, the Spanish governor of Pensacola, calling him to a strict account for his tamj^ering with the enemy, To be neai'er the scene of op- erations, he removed, immediately after the conclusion of the treaty, to Mobile, where he could gain the earliest intelli- gence of the movements of the British. Learning there, in September, of a threatened visit of the fleet under the orders of Colonel Nichols to Mobile, he called loudly upon the governors of the adjoining States for aid, and gave the word to his adjutant. Colonel But- ler, in Tennessee, to enlist and bring on his forces. They responded eagerly to the call, for the name of Jackson was now identified with glory and vic- toiy, which they were ambitious to share. His old friend, General Coflfee, was their leader. Before they arrived, the fort at the moiith of the bay was put in a state of defence under the command of Major LaAvrence, of the United States infantiy. In the after- noon of the fifteenth of September it was his fortune to maintain the post against a bombardment by the British fleet of Captain Percy which recalls both the attack and success of the de- fenders at Fort Sullivan, in the war of the Bevolutiou. What Moultrie and his brave men did on that day in re- pelling the assault of Sir Peter Parker and his ships was now done by Law- rence at Fort Bo^vj'er. " Don't give up the fort " was his motto, as " Don't give up the ship " had been uttered by his namesake on " the dying deck " of the Chesapeake, the ycai- before. The fort was not given up. Percy's flag- ship, the Hermes, was destroyed, and the remainder of his command returned, seriously injured, to Pensacola. General Jackson rejoiced in this vic- tory at Mobile, and waited only the 110 ANDREW JACKSON. arrival of his forces to carry the war home to the British in Fhirida. At the eud of Octoljer, General Coffee ar- rived with twont}--oiglit luindred men ou the Mobile River, wliere Jackson joined him, and mustering his forces to the number of three thousand, marched on the third of November against Pensacola. Owing to the difficulty of obtaining forage on the way, the caval- ry was dismounted. The troops had rations for eight days. On his arri- val before the town, being desirous as far as possible of presenting his movements in a peaceful light, Gene- ral Jackson sent a messencjer forAvard to demand possession of the forts to be held by the United States " until Spain, by furnishing a sufficient force, might be able to protect the province and preserve unimpaired her neutral char- acter." On approaching the fort the bearer of the flai' was fired on and compelled to retire. Aware of the de- licacy of his self-imposed undertaking, before proceeding to extremities he sent a second message to the governor, by a Spanish corporal who had been captured on his route. This time, word was brought back that the gov- ernor was ready to listen to his propo- sals. He accordingly sent Major Piere a second time with his demands. A council was held, and they Avere re- fused. Nothinsr was then left but to proceed. The town was gained by a bimj^le stratagem. Ai-rauging a por- tion of his troops as if to advance directly on his road, he di'ew the British slnpi)ing to a position on that side, when, by a rapid march, he suddenly presented his main force on the other. lie consequently entered the town bo- fore the movement could be met. A street fight ensued, and a barrier was taken, when the governor appeared with a fla;:' of truce. General Jackson met him and demanded the surrender of the militaiy defences, which was conceded. Some delay, however, oc- curred, which ended in the delivery of the fortifications, of the town, and the bloAving up of the fort at the mouth of the harbor. Having accomplished this feat, the British fleet sailed away before morning. Whither were they bound ? To Fort Bo\vyer and Mobile in all probability, and thither Jack- son, leaving the Spanish governor on friendly terms behind him, hastened his steps. Tarrying a few days for the British, who did not come, he took his departure for New Orleans, with his staff, and in a journey of nine days readied the city on the first of Decem- ber. K ever the force of a single Avill, the safety which may be provide"! for an imperilled j)eople by the confidence of one strong right arm, were fully il- lustrated, it would seem to be in the military drama which was enacted in this and the following month on tlio banks of the Mississippi. Andrew Jackson was the chief actor. Louisia- na had brave men in her midst, numer- ous in proportion to her mixed popula- tion and still unsettled condition, but whom had she, at once with experience and authority, to summon on the in- stant out of the discordant materials a band strong enough for her preserva- j tion ? At the time of General Jack- I son's arrival a large fleet of the enemy ANDREW JACKSON. Ill was hovering on tlie coast amply pro- vided witli every resource of naval and military art, bearing a host of the ve- teran troops of England, experienced in the bloody contests under Welling- ton — an expedition compared with which the best means of defence at hand for the inhabitants of New Or- leans resembled the resistance of the reeds on the river bank to Behemoth. It was the genius of Andrew Jackson which made those reeds a rampart of iron. He infused his indomitable cour- age and resolution in the whole mass of citizens. A few troops of hunters, a handful of militia, a band of smugglers, a company of negroes, a group of j^eace- ful citizens stiffened imder his inspira- tion into an army. Without Jackson, irresolution, divided counsels, and sur- render, might, with little reproach to the inhabitants, under the circmnstan- ces, have been the history of one fatal fortnight. With Jackson all was union, confidence and victory. The instant of his arrival he set about the work of organization, review- ing the militaiy comj^anies of the city, selecting his staff, personally examining tlie approaches from the sea and arrang- ing- means of defence. He was deter- mined that the first step of the enemy on landing should be resisted. This was the inspiration of the militaiy movements which followed, and the secret of his success. He did not get behind intrenchments and wait for the foe to come up, but determined to go forth and meet him on the way. He was not there so much to defend New Orleans as to attack an army of inso- lent intruders and diive them into the sea. They might be thousands, and his force might be only hundreds, but he knew of but one resolve, to fight to the uttermost, and he pursued the reso- lution as if he were revenging a per- sonal insult. Events came rapidly on as was anti- cipated, an attack was made from the fleet upon the gunboats on Lake Borgne. They were gallantry defend- ed, but compelled to surrender. This action took place on the fourteenth of December. Now was the time, if ever, to met the invading host. The spirit of Jackson rose, if possible, yet higher with the occasion. Well knowing that not a man in the city could be spared, and the inefficiency, in such emergencies, of the civil authority, he resolve to take the whole power in his own hands. On the sixteenth, he proclaimed mar tial law. Its effect was to concentrate every energy of the people with a sin- gle aim to theu" deliverance. Two days after, a review was held of the State militia, the volunteer companies, and the battalion of free men of color, when a stirring address was read, penned by the general's secretary, Edward Liv- insrston — a little smoother than 014 Hickory's bulletins in the Alabama wilderness, but not at all uncertain. The Tennessee, Mississippi and Ken- tucky recruits had not yet arrived; but they were on their way, straining every nerve in forced marches to meet the coming danger. Had the British moved with the same energy, the city miank, sLx miles below the city, on the forenoon of the twenty-third. It was j)ast mid- day when word Avas hroiight to Jack- son of their arrival, and ^vithiu three hours a force of some two thousand men was on the way to meet them. No attack was expected by the enemy that night ; their comrades were below in numbers, and they anticipated an easy advance to the city the next morn- ing. They little knew the commander ^\^th whom they had to deal. That very night they must be assailed in theii' position. Intrusting an impor- tant portion of his command to General Coffee, who was on hand with his brave Tennesseans, charged with surrounding the enemy on the land side, Jackson himself took position in front on the road, while the Carolina, a war schooner, dropjied do^vn on the river opposite the Biitish station. Her can- nonade, at half-past seven, throwing a deadly sho^ver of grape-shot into the encampment, was the signal for the commencement of this night struggle. It was a fearful contest in the darkness, frequently of hand to hand individual prowess, particularly where Coffee's riflemen were employed. The forces actually engaged are estimated on the part of the British, including a reinforce- ment which they received, at more than twenty-three hundred ; about fifteen hundred Americans took j)art in the fight. The result, after an engagement of nearly two hours, was a loss to the latter of twenty-foui' killed, and one hundreil and eighty-nine wounded and missin':'. The British loss was much larger, sustaining as they did the addi- tional fire of the schooner. Before daylight, Jackson took up his position at a canal two miles distant from the camj) of the enemy, and con- sequently within four of the city. The canal was deepened into a trench, and the earth throAvn back formed an em- bankment, Avhich was assisted l)y the fiimous cotton bales, a device that proved of much less value than has been generally supposed. A fortnight was yet to elapse before the final and conclusive enjrajrement. Its main inci- dents were the arrival of General Sir Edward Pakenham, the commander-in- chief, with General GiV)bs, in the British camp, on the twenty-fifth, bring- ing reinforcements from Europe; the occupation by the Americans of a posi- tion on the opposite side of the river protecting their camp ; the destruction of the Carolina by red hot shot on the twenty-seventh; an advance of the Britisli, with fearful preparation of artillery, to stoi-m the works the fol- lowing day, which was defeated by the Louisiana sloop advantageously posted in the river, and the fire from the American batteries, which were every day gaining strength of men and muni- tions ; the renewal of the attack Vfiih like ill success on the first of January ; the simultaneous accession to the Ame- rican force of over two thousand Ken- tucky riflemen, mostly without rifles ; a corresponding addition to tho enemy on the sixth, and a general accumula- tion of resources on both sides, in pre- paration for the final encounter. On the eighth of January, a last attempt was made on the American front, which ANDREW JACKSON. 113 extended about a mile in a straifflit line from the river alonsr the canal into the wood. The plan of attack, which was well conceived, was to take possession of the American work upon the oppo- site bank of the river, turn its guns upon Camp Jackson, and under cover of this diversion scale the embankment, and gain possession of the batteiy. The first was defeated by the want of means, and loss of time in getting the necessary troops across the river ; the main attack, owing to some neglect, was inadequately supplied with scaling ladders, and the troops were marched up to slaughter from the murderous fu-e of the artillerymen and riflemen from behind the embankment. Throughout the whole series of engagements, the American batteries, mounting twelve guns of various calibre, were most skil- fully served. The loss on that day of death was to the defenders but eight killed and thirteen wounded ; that of the assailants in killed, wounded and missing exceeded, in their oflicial re- turns, two thousand.* A monument in "Westminster Abbey attests the regret of the British public for the death of the commander-in-chief, a hero of the Peninsular war, the lamented Paken- ham. Ten days after, having endured vari- ous hardships in the meantime, the British anny, under the du-ection of General I^ambert, took its departure. On the twenty-first, Jackson broke up his camp with an addi-ess to his troops, and returned to New Orleans in tri- umj^h. On the twenty-third, at his ' Danson'B Battles of the United States, II. 419. 15 request, a Te Deum was celebrated at the cathedral, when he was received at the door, in a pleasant ceremonial, by a group of young ladies, representing the States of the Union. The conduct of Jackson throughout the month of peril, whilst the enemy was on the land, was such as to secure him the highest fame of a commander. He had not been called upon to make any extensive manoeuvres in the field, but he had taken his dispositions on new ground with a rapid and profound calculation of the resources at hand. His emplojmient of Lafitte and his men of Barrataria, the smugglers whom he had denounced from MobUe as " hellish banditti," is proof of the sagacity vdth which he accommodated himself to cir- cumstances, and his superiority to pre- judice. They had a character to gain, and turned their wild experience of gunnery to most profitable account at his battery. His personal exertions and influence may be said to have won the field ; and it should be remembered in what broken health he passed his sleepless nights, and days of constant anxiety. The departm-e of the British did not relax the vigilance of the energetic Jackson. Like the English Strafford, his motto was " thorough," as the good people of New Orleans learnt before this affair was at an end. He did not abate, in the least, his strict military iiile, till the last possible occasion for its exercise had gone by. It was con- tinued when the enemy had left, and through days and weeks when as- surance of the peace news was estab- lished to every mind but his own. He lU ANDREW JACKSON. chose to have certainty, and the "rigor of the game." In the midst of tlie ovations and thanksgivings, in the first moments of exidtation, he signed the death warrant of six mutineers, de- serters, who as long before as Septem- ber, had construed a service of the ohl legal term of three months as a release from their six months' engagement; and the severe order was executed at Mobile. In a like spii'it of militaiy exactitude. New Orleans being still held under martial law, to the chafing of the citizens, he silenced a newspaper editor who had ])ublished a premature, incorrect bulletin of peace; banished the French citizens who were disposed to take refuge from his jurisdiction in theii' nationality; aiTested an impor- tant personage, M. LouaiDier, a mem- ber of the I^egislature, who argued the question in print; and when Judge Ilall, of the United States Court, granted a ^vTit of hal)eas corpus, to bring the aftair to a judicial investiga- tion, he was promptly seized and im- prisoned along with the petitioner. The last aftair occuiTed on the fifth of March. A week later, the official news of the peace treaty was received fi-om Washington, and the iron grasp of the general at length relaxed its hold of the city. The civil authority succeeded to the militaiy, when wounded justice asserted its power, in turn, by summon- ing the victorious general to her bar, to answer for his recent contempt of court. He was unwilling to be entan- gled in legal pleadings, and cheerfully paid the imposed fine of one thousand dollars. lie was as ready in sultmit- ting to the civil authority now that the war was over, as he had been decided in exacting its obedience when the safety of the State seemed to him the chief consideration. Thirty years after, the amount of the fine, princij)al and interest was repaid him l)y Congi-ess. The reception of the victorious de- fender of New Orleans, on his retiu-n to Nashville, and subsequent visit, in au- tumn, to the scat of government, was a continual ovation. On his route, at Lynchburgh, in Viiginia, he was met by the venerable Thomas Jefterson, who toasted him at a banquet of citi- zens. The administration, organizing anew the military defence of the coun- try, created him major general of the southern division of the anny, the whole force being arranged in two de- partments, of which the northern waa assigned to General Brown. It was not long })efore the name of Jackson was again to fill the public ear, and impart its terrors alike to the enemy and to his own government. The speck of war arose in Florida, which, what with runaway negroes, hostile Indians, filibustering adventu- rers, and the imbecility of the Spanish i-ule, became a constant source of irrita- tion to the adjoining American States. There were various warlike ])relimina- ries, and at last, towards the end of 1817, a murderous attack by the Semi- noles upon a United States boat's crew ascending the Appalachicola. General Jackson was called into the field, charged with the suppression of the war. Eager for the service, he sprang to the work, and conducted it in his own fashion, ''taking the responsibil- ity" tliroughout, summoning volunteers ANDREW JACKSON. 115 to accompany him fi-om Tennessee with- oiit the formality of the civil authority, advancing rapidly into Florida after his arrival at the frontier, capturing the Spanish fort of St. Marks, and push- ing thence to the Suwanee. General M'Intosh, the half-breed who accompa- nied his march, performed feats of valor in the destruction of the Semi- noles. At the former of these places, a trader from New Providence, a Scotch- man named Arbuthnot, a superior mem- ber of his class, and a pacific man, fell into his hands ; and in the latter, a va- grant English military adventurer, one Ambrister. Both of these men were held under aiTest, charged with com- plicity with the Indian aggressions, and though entu-ely irresponsible to the American commander of this mili- tary raid, were summarily tried under his order by a coiu-t-martial on Spanish territory, at St. Marks, found guilty, and executed by his order on the spot. He even refused to receive the recon- sideration of the court of its sentence of Ambrister, substituting sti-ij^es and imj^risonment for death. Amljrister was shot, and Arbuthnot huntr fi-om the yard-arm of his own vessel in the harbor. During the remainder of Jack- son's life, these names rana; throueh the country with a fearful emphasis in the strife of parties. Of the many difficulties in the way of his eulogists, this is, perhaps, the most considerable. His o-^vn explanation, that he was per- forming a simple act of justice, would seem, mth his previous execution of the six mutineers, to rest upon a par- tial study of the testimony ; but this responsibility should of course be di- vided with the members of his court- martial. The chief remaining events of the campaign were an angry corres- pondence ■\vith the governor of Georgia, in respect to an encroachment on his authority in oi-dering an attack on an Indian village, and the capture of Pen- sacola, in which he left a garrison. Reckoning day with the government was next in order. The debate in Con- gress ou the Florida transactions was long and animated, Henry Clay bear- ing a conspicuous part in the opposi- tion. The resolutions of censure were lost by a large majority in the House. The failure to convict was a virtual vote of thanks. Fortified by the result, the general, who had been in Washington during the debate, made a triumphal visit to Philadelphia and New York. At the latter place he was presented with the freedom of the city in a gold box, which, a topic for one of the poets of the "croakers" at the time, has bo- come a matter of interest since, in the discussion growing out of a provision of the general's will. He left the gift to the bravest of the New York officers in the next war. It was finally be- stowed, in 1850, upon General Ward B. Burnett, the colonel of a New York regiment distinguished in the Mexican war. The original presentation took place at the City Hall, in February, 1819. The protracted negotiations Math Spain for the purchase of Florida beino- now brought to an end by the acquisition of the country. General Jackson was appointed by President Monroe the first governor of the Territoiy. He was present at the formal cession at 116 ANDREW JACKSON. Pensacola, on the nth of July, 1821, aud entered upon his new duties with his usual vigor — a vigor in one instance, at least, humorously tlisj)roj)ortioned to the seene, in a notable disjiute with the Spanish governor, in the course of ■which there was a fresh imbroglio with a United States judge, and the foreign functionaiy was ludicrously locked up in the calaboose — all al>out the deliv- ery of certain unimportant papers. On a question of authority, it was Jackson's habit to go straight fonvard without looking to see what important modifying circumstances there might be to the rifjht or left. It was a mill- tary trait which served him very well on important occasions in war, and sub- sequently in one great struggle, that of the Bank, in jieace; but in smaller mixed matters, it might easily lead him astray. For this Don Callava's com- edy, we must refer the reader to INIr. Pai-ton's full and entertaining narra- tive — not the most imposing, ])ut cer- tainly not the least instructive portion of his book. The Florida governor- ship was not suited to the demands of Jackson's nature ; his powers were too limited and restricted ; the irritation of the Spanish quarrel was not calculated to lighten his disease, and ]\Irs. Jackson was at his side to plead the superior claims of home. Thither, after a few months' absence, he returned, doubtless greatly to the relief of the Secretary of State, Mr. Adams, who said at the time to a friend, "he dreaded the arrival of a mail from Florida, not knowing what General Jackson might do next." * The ■ Partoo's Jackson, Tt. 689. remainder of General Jackson's life may be regarded as chiefly ])olitical ; it is rather as a man of action in politics, than as a theoretical statesman, in any sense, that he is to be considered. IIo had certain views in public atVairs apart fi-om the army, which were more mat- ters of instinct than of reflection or argument. The two great trophies of his administrations, his course towards South Carolina in the preservation of the Union, and his victory over the interests of the United States Bank, were of this character. They were both questions likely to present them- i selves strongly to his mind. He had an old republican antagonism to paper money, and the corrui)tions of a large moneyed corjioration allied to the government, and having once formed ' this idea, his military energy came in to carry it out through every availabl means at his disposal. His availability for the Presidency was based upon his popularity ^vith the people wherever they had faii'ly come in contact with him. The people, above all other qualities, esteem those of a strong, earnest, truthful, straight- forwai'd character. They admire force and unity of purpose, and require hon- esty. Jackson had these requisites in perfection. There was no mistaking his single aim. It had been displayed on a field where nothing is hidden from the popular eye, where it is even dis- posed to exaggeration of what it fairly takes in. In producing a candidate for popidar favor in an ordinary election, a great deal is to be done, in common cases, in bringing the public to an un- derstanding of his claims. His reputa- ANDREW JACKSON. 117 tion has, in a measure, to be manufac- tm-ed. Voters have to be schooled to his appreciation. But Jackson's fame was akeady made — made by iiiniself. Various things of gi-eat importance to the nation were, at diiferent times, to be done, and Jackson liad accomplished them. He had freed the land from the savage, and swept the invader from the soil. He had been charged with some eiTors, but, granting the worst, they had no taint of selfishness or fraud. If he was over rigorous in punishing deserters, and punctilious in his mili- tary authority, it was a public necessity which nerved his resolution. A few might be sufferers by his ill-directed zeal, but tlie masses saw only the splen- dor of a righteous indignation. It was for them the work was done, and the penalty incurred. His worst private vice was that of a duellist, which is always more apt to be associated with pnncii)les of honor, than its fi-equent incentive, unworthy self-assertion. It is not at all surprising that such a man should be summoned to the Pre- sidency. He was nominated by the legislature of his own State in 1823, which sent him again to the Senate, and he was highest on the list of the candidates voted for the followinir year — he had ninety-nine out of two hundred and sixty-one votes — when the election was carried into the House of Kepresentatives, and Adams was chosen by the influence of Henry Clay. At the next election, he was borne tri- umphantly into the office, receiving more than double the number of votes of his antagonist, Mr. Adams. The vote was one hundred and seventy- eight to eighty-three. At the election of 1835, the third time Jackson's popu- larity was tested in this way, the vote stood for Clay forty-nine, for Jackson two hundred and thirty-nine. The recoi'd of these eight years of his Presidential service, from 1829 to 1837, is the modem history of the democratic party, of the exertions of its most distinguished representatives, of the establishment of its most che- rished principles — its anti-biink creed in the overthrow of the national bank, and origination of the subtreasury system, which went into operation with his successor — the reduction of the tariff — the opposition to internal im- provements — the payment of the na- tional debt. In addition to the settle- ment of these long agitated questions, his administration was signalized by the removal of the Cherokees from Georgia, and the Creeks from Florida while its foreign policy was candid and vigorous, bringing to a satisfactory adjustment the outstanding claims on France and other nations, and main- taining friendly relations with England. In all these measures, his energetic hand was felt, but particularly was his pecu- liar character manifested in his veto of 1832, and general conduct of the bank question, the collection of the French indemnity, and his enforcement of the national authority in South Carolina. The censure of the Senate on the 28th March 1834, for his removal of the deposits of the public money from the bank as " an assumption of authority and power not coufeiTed by the Consti- tution and laws, but in derogation of both " — a censure supported by the ex- 118 ANDREW JACKSON. traordinary coalition of Callioun, Clay ami Webster, measures the exteut of tlie oj)position his course eucouutered in Congress ; while the Expunging Re- solution of 1837, blotting out that con- demnation, indicates the reception and progress of his oi)inions with the seve- ral States in the brief interim. The ])ersonal attack made upon him in 1835, by a poor lunatic at the door of the Capitol, " a diseased mind acted upon by a general outcry against a public man," * may show the sentiment with which a large j>ortiou of the ])ress and a considerable i)0])ular party habit- ually treated him. The love of Andrew Jackson for the Union deserves at this time more than a passing mention. It was em- phatically the creed of his head and heart. He had no toleration for those who sought to weaken this great in- stinct of nationality. No sophism could divert his understanding from the plainest obligations of duty to his whole countiy. He saw as clearly as the subtlest logician in the Senate the inevitable tendencies of any argu- ment which would impair the alle- giance of the people of iiie States to the central authority. He could not make such a S2)eech as Web- ster delivered on the subject, but he knew as well as Webster the abyss into which nullification would plunge its advocates. Hi.* vigorous policy saved his o\vn generation the trials to which ours has been subjected. Had his spirit still ruled at the proper mo- ment in the national administration, ' Benlon'8 Thirty Tears' View, I. 623. we too might have been spared the im- told evils of a gigantic rebellion. It is remarkable that it was predicted by him — not in its extent, for his patriot- ism and the ardor of his temperament would not have allowed him to imajriue a defection so wide-spread, or so la- mentable a lack of energy in giving encoiu-agement to its growth — Init in its motive and pretences. When nulli- fication was laid at rest, his keen in- sight saw that the rebellious spirit which gave the doctrine birth was not extinguished. He pronounced the tar- iff only the ])retext of factious and malignant disturbers of the public peace, " who would involve their coun- try in a civil war and all the evils in its train, that they might reign and ride on its whirlwinds, and direct the storm." Disunion and a southern con- federacy, and not the tariff, he said, wei"e the real objects of the conspira- tors, adding, with singular sagacity, " the next pretext mil be the negro or the slavery question." ^ Eight years of honorable repose re- mained to the victor in so many battles, military and political, after his retire- ment from the Presidency. They were passed in his seat near Nashville, the home of his hapj)y married life, but no longer cheered by the -warm-hearted, sincere, devout sharer of his many trials. That excellent wife had been taken from him on the eve of his first occupation of the Presidential chair, and her memory only was left, vriih its inviting lessons of piety, to temper the passions of the tme-hearted old man as ' Letter to tho RoT. Andrew J. Crawford. Washing- ton, tiay 1, 1833. ANDREW JACKSON. 119 he resigned liimself to religion and the cares of another and better world. He had early adopted, as his own son, a nephew of his wife, and the child grew up always fondly cherished by him, bore his name and inherited his estate. " The Hermitage," the seat of a liberal hospitality, never lacked intimates dear to him. He had the good heart of Dr. Johnson in taking to his home and at- taching to himself fi-iends who grew strong again in his manly confidence. Thus, in the enjoyment of a tranquil old age, looking back upon a career which belonged to history, he met the increasing infirmities of ill health with pious equanimity, a member of the Presbyterian church, where his wife had so fondly worshipped — life slowly ebbing from him in the progress of his dropsical complaint — till one summer day, the eighth of June, 1845, the chUd of the Revolution, an old man of sev- enty-eight, closed his eyes in lasting repose at his beloved Hermitage. The genius and peculiarities of An- drew Jackson afford a tempting subject for the pen of the essayist. His reso- lute will, strong, fierce and irresistible, resting upon a broad honesty of natm-e, was paramount. It was directed more by feeling and impulse than by educa- tion and reflection ; consequently there was a spice of egotism even in its pur- est resolves, and it sometimes took harsh ways to good ends. Somehow or other it generally had the sanction of success. The integrity of his pub- lic life, the great national measures with which his name is identified, will throw into obscurity, on the page of history, his personal weaknesses — the violence of his temper, his oaths, hia quan-els and occasional seeming want of magnanimity. Strange that so fin- ished and courteous a gentleman should at times have been so rude ! An apology has been found in the straggles of his early life, the rough frontier society into which he was in- troduced, and the lifelong irritations of disease. That in despite of these tan- gible defects, he should, through so great a variety of circumstances, civU and militaiy, have controlled so many strong and subtle elements, and have found so many learned and able men to do his work and assist him in his upward path, is the highest proof of his genius. MARTIN VAN BUREN. ^ Makttn Van Buren, tlie eiglitli Pre- sident of the United States, was born at Kinderbook, Columbia County, New York, December 5th, 1782. His name imports his Dutch descent, his family being among the early settlers who came from Holland to the New Nether- lands. Abraham Van Buren, the father of ^Martin, is spoken of as a farmer in moderate circumstances, " an upright, amiable, and intelligent man, of strong common sense, and distinguished for his pacific disposition." He had little op- portunity to bestow upon his son a costly classical education ; but the boy had the benefit of such instruction as the village school and academy afforded, and its course included " some know- ledge of Latin." His quickness and in- telligence marked him out for the pro- fession of the law, the study of which he commenced at the early age of four- teen, in the office of ]\Ii-. Francis Sylves- ter, a highly respectable practitioner at Kinderhook. This aj)iiarently prema- ture entrance in the training of the pro- fession is accounted for by a former regulation of the bar, which required a seven years' course of instruction, except in the case of those who had received a collegiate degree, when an allowance was made for the usual four years of the undergraduate course. The young Van Buren was early set to tiy cases in the Justices' Courts, and as it is always in America but n single step from the laA\yer's office to the political arena, he found his way when he was but eighteen to a nominating convention of the Republi- can party, of a candidate for the State legislature. These and similar employ- ments marked the young man while he was yet a student, for future activity and employment in public affairs. This : tendency was increased by his engage- ment in the last year of his jireparatory course in the office of Mr. William P. Van Ness, a distinguished leader of the Republican party in the city of New York, and friend of Aaron Burr. The latter is said to have cultivated the soci- ety of the young student at law from Columbia County, and impressed upon him much of his political sagacity in the organization and government of party. In 1803, in his twenty-first year, Mr. Van Buren was admitted to the bar of the Supreme Court of the State, and returned to Kinderhook to begin prac- tice at the law. His half-brother, his mother's son by a first man-iage, Mr. James I. Van Alen, afterward a mem- ber of Congress, was there estal)l>ehod as a lawyer, and the two formed at once a business connection. This part- ISO ^^^^I^^Mr ^' ^^1^1 ■ ^IHB^'^^^I^I ^^H ^^^^^^HH^^^^^Hj^^ '^^j^Bp* v^l ^^■klL ^H ^^^^^kB '^w n //> 7 -2/17 dt: ^^^L^^ ^^-^^^ t^^-^^y/y^f^y^^^ MARTIN "Van BUREN. 121 ner, who was somewhat of a politician, was attached to the Federal party, ^vhich was the ruling influence in the county, and many considerations were lu-ged upon young Van Buren to adopt the prevalent creed. He had, however, chosen his path. "Firmly fixed," says his biographer. Mi*. Holland, " by reflec- tion and observation in the political faith of his father, who Avas a Whig in the Revolution, an anti-Federalist in 1788, and an early supporter of Jefterson, he shrunk not from the severe tests which were applied to the strength and integ- rity of his convictions. Without pa- tronage, comparatively poor, a plebeian by birth, and not furnished with the advantages of a superior education, he refused to worship either at the shrine of wealth or power, but followed the dictates of his native judgment and be- nevolent feelings, and hesitated not, in behalf of the cause which he thus adopted, to encounter the utmost vio- lence of his political enemies. That violence soon burst upon his head with concentrated fury. His character was traduced, his person ridiculed, his prin- ciples branded as infamous, his integ- rity questioned, and his abilities sneered at." Tliis is one side of the pictui'e — the opposition of the Federalists ; it has another, the partisan friendship of the Republicans. The latter gave the young lawyer and politician their support ; he throve in his profession ; was mar- ried happily, in 1806, to Miss Hannah Hoes, a distant relative on the mother's side; and in 1808 had his first party reward from the Republican state ad- ministration of Governor Tompkins, which he had assisted into office. He 16 received the appointment of surrogate of Columbia County, which induced him to remove to the county seat at Hudson, where he devoted himself assi duously to the bar. In politics, as we have seen, Mr. Van Bui'en was an active participant from the start as an ardent supporter of the Jefifersonian politics of the day. In the State divisions he attached himself to the fortunes of Governor Tompkins, and was prominent in sustaining his anti-bank policy. It was on the latter issue, in opposition to Edward P. Liv- ingston, a bank-democrat supported by the Federalists, that Mr. Van Buren was chosen a State senator from the coun- ties comprising the Middle District. It was a closely contested election, the successful candidate haAnng a majority of only about two hundred in an aggre- gate vote of twenty thousand. It was the season of a new Presi- dential election, the fii'st tei'm of Mr. Madison being about to expire. As it was the custom at that time to nomi- nate the State electors by a caucus of the political parties in the legislature, Mr. Van Buren was, of course, called upon to participate in their decision. The Republican members had already, in their spring session, nominated De AVitt Clinton for that liigh oflice, a nomination to which Mr. Van Buren now gave his support. This brought him in a quasi union with the Federal- ists, who gave their support to Mr. Clin- ton, and has led his biographers to take particular pains to exhibit his ad- herence to the war policy of the admin- istration at Washington, toward which, at the outset at least, Mr. Clinton had 122 mArtin van BUREN. been opposed. But whatever doiihts may have been thrown over his views by this aceideutal party relation, seem- ing to compromise his thorough-going republicanism, his adherence to war measures was made explicit enough in the Adcb'ess which he ])repared as chair- man of the committee nominating Go- vernor Tompkins for reelection in 1813, and by his subsequent advocacy in the legislature of the most stringent war measures, })articularly in an act to en- courage privateering, and another which was kuoANTi as the " classification law," of the nature of a conscription, author- izing the governor to place at the dis- posal of the President twelve thousand men of the militia — a measure which, though ado])ted, peace intervening, was not re(piired to be put in practice. The acts just alluded to were violently op- posed by the Federalists, and submit- ted to a severe scnitiny after their pas- sage, in the Council of Revision, a body which then sat as an integral part of the legislature in confirming its laws. Chan- cellor Kent there delivered an opinion against them. It was pul^lished, and replied to by Samuel Young, then Speaker of the Asseml)ly, in several newspaper articles signed '■^ Juris Can- sulhis" which -were answered by the chancellor under the signature "Amicic-s Curicer Upon this IVIr. Van Buren met the latter, directing his attention espe- cially to the assault upon the morality of the privateering law, in a series of ar- ticles signed ^'■Amicus Juris Consul- tusr After peace was concluarty not to be greatly affected by its decisions, and he had, moreover, reached an age of honor- able, well-earned repose, which his habits of study and reflection, a certain pliilress for victory." The l)attle on the IMiamis was fought August 20, 1Y94, and a year afterward, with various in- termediate demonstrations and negoti- ations brought forth its peaceable fruits in "Wayne's treaty of Greenville, which closed the war. Harrison was then, at the age of twenty-three, ^vith the rank of Captain, placed in command of Fort Washing- ton, where he about the same time was married to the daughter of John Cleves Symmes, whose name is so honorably distinguished in the history of the western settlements, and particularly as the founder of Cincinnati. The young officer held this post till 1797, when he sent in his resignation, with the intention thereafter, says his bio- grapher, Montgomery, " of devoting his time to the peaceful and more conge- nial pursuits of agriculture." He was speedily, however, withdrawn from these quiet anticipations to pul)lic du- ties, in his appointment by President Adams as secretary of the Northwest Territory, then under the government of St. Clair. When the Territory be- came organized, and was qualified to end a delegate to Congress, Harrison was chosen its first representative in 1799. He distinguished Iiimself in this body by his activity and success in secur- ing to settlers the privilege of purchas- ing the public lands in small quantities, and in measures favoring their preemp- tion rights and modes of j)ayment. On the division of the Territory, Harrison was withdrawn from Con- gress to discharge the duties of the first governor of the newly foi-med Territoiy of Indiana, Avhich included the present States of Indiana, Illinois, ]\Iiehigan, and Wisconsin. This was in 1801, and the whole region now so populous numbered only five thousand j)eople, scattered over the whole country, ex- posed to the dangers of frontier life and the unsettled relations with the Indians. " With such difficulties," says his biographer, " it was no less a mat- ter of duty than of necessity that he should be clothed with the amplest independent powers. Amongst those of a civil as well as political nature conferred upon him were those jointly with those of the judges, of the legisla- tive functions of the Territoiy, the ap- pointment of all the civil officers w'ithin the Territory, and all the military offi- cers of a grade inferior in rank to that of general ; commander-in-chief of the militia ; the absolute and uncontrolled power of pardoning all offences; sole commissioner of treaties with the In- dians with unlimited powers, and the power of conferring, at his option, all grants of lands." Harrison held this proconsular office for sixteen years, diu'- ing which he saw the country steadily increasing in strength and prosperity ; though his career, experienced and pru- dent as it was, proved not \vithout dif ficulties with the Indians, rising at length to open warfare. WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 13S The straggle, known as the battle of Tippecanoe, which took place on the seventh of November, 1811, involved various elements of preparation on the part of the savages, some of which im- part to their conduct of the war an inte- rest with which there will always be a certain degree of sympathy. The effort of a falling race to regain its authoiity under a leader like Tecumseh, assisted by the fanaticism of his brother the Prophet, is raised out of the rank of the ordinary Indian fighting propensities. The Indian chief was a hero of no ordi- nary class. To the virtues of the war- rior in arms, he united many of those moral qualities so powerful in strength- ening the courage of the soldier. lie was self-denying, forbearing, and even compassionate. Born in the centre of Ohio, he represented the races immedi- ately west of the Alleghanies, whom he appears early to have sought to unite against the whites. Consistently with his character for sincerity he de- clined to attend Wayne's council of peace at Greenville. His great effort was to bring the scattered tribes to act in concert. For this purpose he estab- lished, in 1808, an Indian settlement at the Ti])2>ecauoe River, a tributaiy of the Wabash, in Indiana, whither, with the aid of the Prophet, he brought together a considerable number of recruits to his mingled political and superstitious teaching. The "Wabash Prophet," as he was called, was at first considered a simple visionary. Jefferson, then in the Presi- dency, took this view of him, and thought little harm would come of his preaching the simple austerities of theii- forefathers to a race not remarkably disposed to ab- stinence and selfdenial. His success, however, and the activity and declara- tions of Tecumseh, with the imminent English war at hand, aroused the anxie- ties of the people of the Territory, and when positive ground was taken by the Indian leader at the conference of Vin- cennes against the progress of the treat- ies by which HaiTison was extending the authority of the whites, it was found necessary to assume a decided mi- litary stand. The governor therefore at length, in October, 1811, advanced his forces, composed of regulars and militia, officered by experienced western leaders, toward the Indian settlement presided over by the prophet on the Tippecanoe. Moving forward cautiously with a force of nine hundred men, he reached a sta- tion about a mile and a half from the town, where a militaiy encampment was formed, when some conferences were commenced with the foe. It was evi- dent that the j^urposes of the Prophet were hostile. Harrison arranged his men in order to receive the assaiilt, which was made by the Indians early on the morning of the seventh of Novem- ber. It was in fact a night attack, though commenced after fom* o'clock, a di'izzling rain, and the season of the year favoring the darkness. The onset was made with vigor, on all sides of the encampment, which was gallantly de- fended, with considerable loss of life by the rifle companies at their several sta- tions. The camp was thus resolutely held, and kej^t unbroken, tiU daybreak, when new military dispositions were made, and a charge at the point of the bayonet, put the Indians to the rout. 134 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. " "With this success," says Mr. Dawson, in his account of the battle,' " the engage- ment was ended ; both parties apjieared to have satisfied the expectations of their friends. The steady, undcviating courage of the American troops elicited great commendation ; while Governor Harrison, speaking of his savage ene- my, says ' the Indians manifested a ferocity uncommon even with them.' In this, however, they were inspirited by the religious fanaticism under which they acted — the Prophet, during the action, being posted on a neighboring eminence, sinixinc; a war-sonor; and in fiiint imitation of Moses in the wilder- ness, directing his people by the move- ments of his rod." The forces ene^ajied in this battle were probably about equal. The Americans lost some sixty officers and men killed, or who died of their wounds, beside the wounded sur- vivors, and the Indian loss was siip- posed to have been greater. The attack upon the American camp was urged and directed in the absence of Tecumseh, by the Pro])het, who promised in virtue of his soothsaying insight, an easy \actory. The result Avas that he altogether lost credit ^vith the tribes whom he had inveicrled to his town by his necromantic appeals. When the battle was fought, Tecumseh was on a journey to the Southern In- dians, whom he was stirring up to his warlike enterprises. He reached the Wabash on his return in time to wit- ness the first effects of the discomfiture of his followers, and it is said, so great was his indignation toward his brother, ' BiatlM of the United Sutes, II. 93-81. the Prophet, that on his attempting to palliate his fool-hardy conduct, he seized him by the hair and threatened liis life. The disaster had liroken up his long entertained hope of an Indian confede- racy against the white man. The game, however, was not quite up yet. The desperation of the Indians was taken advantage of by the Britisli authorities on the frontier, to engage them in the war with America. In May, 1812, Te- cumseh openly joined the British stand- ard at Maiden. On the eigliteenth of the followinc: month war amiinst Great Britain was formally declared by Con- gress. The campaign of Hull in Canada, opened with brilliant promise in his in- vasion of the country, speedily to be checked by his inefficiency and to ter- minate in his ignominious suiTender of Detroit. This disaster, of a sufficiently afilictive character, so far however, from intimidating the western defenders, called them to new exertions, and vo- lunteer forces were raised in large num- liers in Ohio and Kentucky. There was at first some conflict of aiithority as to the command of the troops of the latter State, which, for the purpose of placing Hamson at their head, con- feiTcd upon him the brevet commission of Major-General, while the Secretary of War, ignorant of this movement, assigned the command to General "Win- chester. The difficulty, however, was speedily solved l)y the appointment of General Han'ison by the President, in September, commander-in-chief of the "Western Department, when the left \\"ing of the army was assigned to Gene- ral Winchester. Harrison himself took WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. 135 his position in what tlie Britisli con- quests had now made the frontier, the northerly portion of Ohio bordering on Michigan, and made his headquarters at Upper Sandusky. The new year 1813, opened with a movement on the part of Winchester, now established at the rapids of the Maumee to protect the outlying settle- ments in Michigan on the Raisin River, a territory virtually in possession of the British. For this purpose Colonel Lewis was dispatched with a force over the frozen waters of the adjacent por- tion of Lake Erie to Frenchtown, from which the enemy were driven with great gallantry. This action occuiTed on the eighteenth of January. On the twenty-second, the victors in the mean- time having been joined by Winchester with a small body of troops, an attack was made upon the American position by Colonel Proctor, who had issued forth from the neighboring Maiden, only eighteen miles distant, with a con- sideraljle partj^ of royal troops, several pieces of artillery, and a formidable band of six hundi-ed Indians. The camp was taken uuj^repared ; such re- sistance as could be offered at the mo- ment was made, but the American defeat was complete. Such was the cruelty of the Indian allies and the merciless conduct of the British com- mander, that the action, an indelible disgrace to the British arms, passes in histoiy as the massacre at the River Raisin. Both the officers, Lewis and Winchester were captured; of about a thousand American troops engaged, but thirty -tkree escaped, nearly four hundred were killed or missing, and the rest taken prisoners. General Har- rison, though he disapproved of the more than questionable attempt at hold- ing a position like Frenchtown in the face of the superior foe, did all that he could to save the fortunes of the army by hastening thither with recruits ; but the action was fought and the disaster completed before he reached the scene. All fuiiher onward movements were of com'se, for the time, unavailing, and the commander-in-chief intrenched his forces at the Rapids of the Maumee, constructing there a foi-t, named in honor of Governor Meigs, of Ohio. The next important event of the war in this quarter was the attack on this fort in the spring, by a force led by General Proctor, of over two thousand men, more than one half of whom were Indians, and of the rest above five hun- dred were regulars. He made good his landing on the river two miles below the fort ; but he had this time a more dilicent commander than Winchester to encounter. Harrison, who anticipated an attack, had hastened from a recruit- ing mission to Cincinnati, to superintend the defence. The fort was defended by its elevated position and the usual pro- tection of works of that kind, of pick- ets and block houses. As a further protection against the pieces of artillery which the besiegers were bringing to bear upon it, a heavy embankment was earned across the works which sheltered the troops from the enemy's fii-e. The batteries of the assailants were-opened on the first of May, and continued with euero-y for four days with little effect, when the arrival in the vicinity of Ken- tucky reinforcements under General 136 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. Clay, which Harrison had originally sent for, gave the commander the oppor- tunity to plan a concerted attack upon the besicgei"3. It \v:vs made Ity a sally from the fort and two divisions of Clay's troops at ditierent points with various success ; but the result was the virtual discomfiture or defeat of the British. The fighting of that fifth' of i\Iay, proved the superiority of the Ame- ricans and a few days after the seige was abandoned. We here meet again with the Indian leader, Tecumseh, who proved himself a skillful combatant in the day's work, and who, we may mention, had exhibited his prowess in the campaign in Michi- gan at the expense of a detachment of Hull's command previous to his siu'- render. A story of this chieftain's in- terposition in saving some of the pri- soners taken l)y the British in this action before Fort Meigs, is creditable to his humanity, while the necessity for such interposition adds another item to the fearfid account against Proctor for his treachery and cruelty at the Kiver Rais- in. While a dispute was raging be- tween the Potawatamies and the more merciful Miamis and Wyandots, as to the fate of the caj)tives, the work of scalj)ing and slaughter having been al- ready wreaked on some twenty defence- less ^nctims, Tecumseh came upon the spot flourishing his hatchet, and it is said burying it in the head of a chief en- gaged in the bloody work, commanded them, for shame to desist. "It is a dis- grace," said he, " to kill a defenceless prisoner:" and his order was obeyed.^ " Dawson'B Scige of Fort Meigs. Battles of the United States. The loss of the Americans in the seige and the action was gi'eater than that of the British ; but we are to consider in the number of the slain those pei-fidi- ously murdered by the savage allies of the enemy. Proctor, at any rate, was unable to stand before the American forces now thickenincr around him. Thus relieved of the presence of the enemy. General Harrison waited tho effects of Perry's movements on the lake below. Once in command of Lake Erie, the British occupation of Michigan he felt would now be abandoned. The interim between this time and Peng's victory which opened the way to the ex- pected conquests was honorably marked by INIajor Croghan's gallant defence of Fort Stej)henson, against another attack of Proctor. That action was fought on the first of August; on the tenth of September, Peny defeated and captured the whole British squadron. Harrison who had been impatiently waiting this result, now rapidly matured his meas- ures for the reconqiiest of the counti-y overrun by the British. Employing the smaller vessels taken from the enemy to transport a portion of his forces, now j)owei'fully recruited by the Kentucky volunteers, Harrison effected a landing on the Canadian shore, on the twenty- seventh of the month, and advancing to Maiden, found it abandoned by the British and its fort and storehouses de- stroyed. Proctor, with all his royal forces accompanied by Tecumseh Avith his Indians, had retreated within the peninsula along the line of the Thames, which empties into Lake St. Clair. General Hamson, leaving detachments of his force at Sandwich and Detroit^ WILLIAM HEXRY HARRISON. 137 now regained, pushed on Avitli a com- pany of about a hundred and forty re- gulars, Colonel Richard M. Johnson's mounted Kentuckians, and Governor Shelby's volunteers, also Kentuckians, after the retreating foe. Lewis Cass and Commodore Peny were with him as volunteer aids. The whole force amounted to about three thousand five hundred men. For some distance along the river the troops were accompanied by the smaller vessels of the fleet. The progress of the Americans along the route was of the most exciting character as they drove in the enemy fi'om the defence of the bridges which lay in their way. On the fifth of Octo- ber they came up with the British forces of Proctor drawn up in the vicinity of the Moravian town. He had some eight hundred regular troops and about two thousand Indians. They were posted in front of the road and in an open wood flanked by the river on one hand and a swamp on the other. The Indians adjoined the swamp on the enemy's right. The attack was made on the front by the mounted Kentuckians, whose charge at once threw that portion of the foe into utter confusion, driv- ing through their ranks and assailing them from the rear. Colonel Johnson, meanwhile, was engaged in a stubborn conflict with the Indians, who, directed by the skill of Tecumseh, reserved their fii-e to tell with deadly effect upon the advancing column. Johnson was wounded, but his Kentuckians were not to be dismayed. Dismounting from their horses they plied their rifles with great effect against the Indians who Btood their ground well, but being un- 18 supported by their British employers, were soon compelled to retreat. Proc- tor himself had already taken to flight. Tecumseh was slain in the battle, the most illustrious victim of the day. The number of chivalrous leaders engaged in the American ranks, men who were then or afterward became greatly cele- brated, Johnson, Cass, Peny, Shelby, is noticeable, while more than a quarter of a century later, " The battle of the Thames" was to be one of the watch- words of victory for its General in a great political contest. The effect of this successful termina- tion of the contest following upon Per- ly's naval triumph— a success enhanced by the embarrassments and failures of the early part of the struggle — upon the West, can hardly be appreciated at the present day. It was a release from danger and from fear, from a remorse- less foe and the scalping knife of the savage. With Tecumseh fell the last Indian enemy known to a great region of the West. Henceforth we are to follow his successful adversaiy through the paths of civil life. General Ham- son was not engaged in the later occu- pations of the army. He was in efi^ect driven to retii'ement by the arrange- ments of General Annstrong, the Sec- retaiy of War, by whom he was, under some adverse influence or other, virtu- ally suspended in his command. When he was omitted in the plan of the next year's campaign, he resigned the com- mission which he held as major-general, and its accompanpng emoluments. He now resided at his farm at North Bend, on the Ohio, near Cincinnati, which henceforth, in the intervals of 138 WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON. public occupation to which he was fre- quently calleii, continued his residence. He was in Congress from 1816 to 1818, a memher of tlie House of Representa- tives, ami from 1S24 to 1828 a member of the Senate. Between these dates he sat in the Ohio Senate. In 1828 we find him appointed by President John Quinov Adams, Minister Plenipoten- tiary to the Kepublic of Columbia, He reached Bogota, the seat of his du- ties, in February of the next year, and was received with favor, but he had hardly entered u]>on the mission when President Jackson coming into olHce, he was recalled. Resuming again his agi'i- cultural jnu-suits at North Bend \ipon his return, he was occasionally called upon to deliver public addresses and speeches, of which several were }u-inted. One of these, which was republished during his canvass for the presidency, was a discourse before the Philosophical and Historical Society of Ohio, in 1837, in which he took the aborigines of the State for his text. He had some talent for comi)osition and w;us fond of illus- trations drawn from ancient history. In 1830, General ILurison was a can- didate for the presidency in opposition to Van Buren. Though the strength of the Whig party which he represented, w.is somewhat divided, he received seventy-three electoral votes, a sufficient test of his popidarity to bring him into the field again at the next election. The elements of opposition had in the meantime gained force; the countr}' was suffering under an extraordinaiy financial depression ; there was discon- tent on ,all sides. General Harrison re- ceived the nomination of twenty-two states at Han-isburg, and was triumph- ! antly borne into the presidential chair. A peculiarity of the canvass was the po]nilar good will, which eagerly seiz- insic hold of the " loix cabin" and "hard cider" as emblems of the simplicity of his early western life, turned them to political account. "Log cabins" were set up in villages and towns through- out the country, at which hard cider or its more comfortable eipiivalents were fi'eely dispensed. Carried rapidly on- ward in the })opular enthusiasm, he i-e- ceived the electoral vote of twenty of the twenty-six States, and two hundred and thirty-four electoral votes against only sixty given to Mr. Van Buren. The inauguration of President Harri- son at Washington, took place on the 4th of March, 1841 ; on the same day of the following month he breathed his last. The active duties of his responsi- ble station, the exacting pretensions of olHce seekers who beset a new president, the pressure of the pre\'iou3 canvass, may have all contributed to the severity of the shock which de2>rived him of life. He was sixty-eight years old, a time of life when any great change of habit may easily destroy the constitution; when a simple cause may shake a wea- ried frame, A slight cold which he took by exposure to the rain \\ as fol- lowed by sudden prostration; a diar- rhoea set in, and after an illness of but a few days he exj^ired. His last words, heard by his physician, Dr. AVorthing- ton, were as if addressing his successor, "Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more " lu anuouuciug the event to the public, WILLIAM HEXRY HARRISON. 139 the rnemhcrs of the Cabinet, of which Daniel Webster was at the head, wrote: "The people of the United States, over- whelmed like ourselves, Ly an event so unexpected and so melancholy, will derive consolation from knowing that his death was calm and resigned as his life had been patriotic, useful, and dis- tinguished ; and that the last utterance fj'om his lips expressed a fervent desire for the perjjetuity of the constitution and the preservation of its true princi- j»les. In death, as in life, the happiness of his country Avas uj>permost in his thoughts." The personal qualities of General Harrison had much to do with his ele- vation to the presidency. His life was marked by a union of moderation with good fortune and substantial success in public affairs. He was prosperous as a commander where others failed; he was ' identified with the growth and prospe- ! rity of a powerful region of the repub- lic ; he had made few enemies though he had been the sultject of hostility, and he had been too long retired from 1 public life to awaken any new preju- dices. His military reputation, after the precedent of Jackson, was doubtless in his favor; but a belief in his good sense and his integrity, -with the expecta- tions of the times, in a change of policy, were the elements of his success. JOHN TYLEK. The fiiniily of John Tyler was of an old English stock, establisliod in Vir- ginia from the early days of the settle- ment He is said, in fact, by one of his biographers, to be descended fi'om that redoubtable Walter or "Watt Tyler, the man of Kent who offered such brave resistance to the tax-gatherei-s of the second Richard, and who had for his associate the famous John Ball, a reve- rend itinerant, to Avhom is attributed the wholesome democratic inquiry When Adam delved and Eve span Who was then the gentleman t Be all this, however, as it may, the grandfather of the President was a re- spectable lauilholder in the colony of Virginia, in the vicinity of Williams- burgh, enjoying the office of marshal in the ante-revolutionary period. His son, John Tyler, born in time to take pai-t in the new era, was a member of the House of Delegates from Charles City County when Patrick IL^nry and his as- sociates sounded the first notes of revolt. As the cause advanced he devoted his fortunes and energies to the patriotic work, and was rewarded by the suf- frages of the people with the highest honors of the State. He rose to be speaker of the House of Delegates, Governor of the State, Judge of the United States District Court, and in hia last days, in the period of the second war with England, was created by Pre- sident Madison, Judge of the Federal Court of Admiralty. He died at the age of sixty-five. He was the intimate friend and coiTespondent of Patrick Hemy, for whom he entertained an ardent admii-ation. No one was more esteemed or better thought of in the State. This revolutionary patriot left three sons, the first of whom apj)ears to have been called Watt, after the old English- man of the people, the stout rebel of the fourteenth century. The second, destined to occupy the chair of the Pre- sident of the United States, named after his father and grandtathei', John, was born in Charles City County, March 29, 1790. The youth had the educa- tion and training of the son of a Vir- ginia gentleman. At the aue of twelve he entered the college of William and Mary, at Williamsburg, and enjoyed the particular friendship of the venera- ble Bishop ^ladison, who had then pre- sided over the institution for a quarter of a centurv. He graduated with ere- dit, his commencement adtb-ess on "Female Education" gaining more than the usual pl.iudits vt' such occasions, and next occupied himself with the HO JOnX TYLER. 141 study of tlic law, pai'tly with liis father tlie juflge, partly with the eminent la^vyer Edmund Rand(jlj)h, Avho was at one time Governor of the State, and who was conspicuous in the affairs of the nation as a member of the old Congress, the Convention of the Con- stitution, and the cabinet of President Washington. At nineteen, we are told, he was permitted to practice at tlie bar, no question being made as to his age ; and his success was decided. On ar- riving at twenty-one he was imani- mously elected a member of the House of Delegates. It was at the season when the war with Great Britain, long imminent was on the eve of actual out- break. The topic was an attractive one for mrtny a nascent orator through- out the country, and was not neglected by the youthful Tyler. By education and tradition he belonged to the demo- cratic party, and his voice was raised in favor of a vigorous prosecution of hos- tilities by the government. When the war had been entei-ed upon and the British foi'ccs in Chesapeake Bay threat- ened an attack on Norfolk and Rich- mond, the young legislator turned his attention to the more active prepara- tion for the field. He occupied him- self in raising a company of militia in his county, whose services happily ^vere not called for. This slight flavor of warfare in comparison with the impor- tant military deeds of many of the oc- cupants of the Presidential chair, gave him the familiar title, during his can- vass for the Presidency, of Captain Tyler ; a title by which he is yet occa- sionally named. We must not, however, anticipate this portion of his career. He con- tinued for five years a member of the House of Delegates in Virginia, in the last of which he was raised to a seat in the executive council. He had hardly, however, entered, upon this new honor' when another awaited him, at the close of 181G, in his election to the House of Rejjresentatives, to fill a vacancy caused by the death of the incumbent. His rival in the canvass was a gentleman, Mr. Andrew Stevenson, afterward dis- tinguished at Washington, whom he defeated by a majority of some thirty votes. At the next regular election his triumph over the same candidate was more decided. In his coui-se in the House he pursued generally the career, so plainly marked out under the rigid party discipline in that State, of a state- rights or strict constructional Virginia politician. He was opposed to internal improvements, and to that great evil in the eyes of all thoroughly-trained demo- crats, a national bank. He ojiposed Mr. Clay in his attempt to gain the recog- nition of the independence of the South American Rejiublics, but was with him in the censure of General Jackson's as- sumptions of responsibility in the Semi- nole wars. A third time elected to Con- gress, he voted in 1820 for the unre- stricted admission of Missouri into the Union. Before his new term of office had expired he was comjielled to seek retirement in consequence of ill health. He returned to his farm in Charles City County, and continued, the practice of his profession. According to a custom which does honor to American politics, he thought it no indignity after occupying a seat Ul JOHN TYLER. in the national councils, to retum aj^ain to tho luiniMor ilutios, \vitli wliioli ho had comnienceil life, of sennce in the le- gislature of liis state. lie W!\s for three years, from IS'23 in tho House of Dele- gates, aj)]>lying his best otVorts to the welfare of Virginia. It is an example whioh might be more generally imitated. Our state legislatures embrace a variety of interests unknown to the national representatives at Washington, and the maturity of years and exjierience might be bi-ought to them with effect. Mr. T}ler in this capacity applied his efforts to the imjnwouient of Virginia, (ind many of the finest roads in the state, it is said, are due to his exertions. In IS'Jo he was chosen Governor of the State, and in the following year was taken from that office to succeed John Randolph in the Senate of the United States. It was the third year of the administration of John Quincy Adams when he took his seat and he at once engaged on the side of the op- position, that is in support of the ine- vitable nomination of General Jackson as the succeeding President. In the late election he had been in fivvor of the Southern candidate, Mr. Crawford, and on the decision being carried into the House, had chcei-fiilly acquiesced in Mr. Clay's casting vote for Mr. Adams. The latter soon lost ground and every means was taken for his defeat. When General Jackson was elected, Mr. Tyler was one of his supporters in the Senate, at least on such questions as his rejection of internal improve- ments and veto of the Bank. He op- posed a tariff for protection. On one Lmportaut measure, however, he was in ' opposition to the President. He took part with tho South Carolinians in thoir nullification doctrines, and spoke against the Force Bill introduced into the Se- nate to aid General Jackson in their overthrow. When Mr. Clay introduced his compromise bill, modifying the ob- noxious tariff", Mr. T}der gave it his support. On the close of his term in IS'M, he was again elected to the Senate. It was the beginning of that second term of Jackson's administration memorable in the annals of the country for the accomplishment of his wart;u-e against that political giant, the Bank of the United States. To these measures Mr. Tyler in conjunction Mnth IMr. Calhoun and other members of his party stood opposed. He voted in favor of Mr. Clay's resolutions of censure, standing on his c>ld Virginia ground as a strict constructionist, hostile to all undue as- sumptions of power on the part of the Executive. He did this at the time no less in accordance with his own feelings than with the vioAvs of the Virginia le- cislature which had elected him. Time passed on, and the President, gaining ground throughout the country and in the Senate, the pertinacious resolution of Mr. Bonton to expunge the obnoxious resolution was pressed to a final issue. Mr. Tyler now received instructions to vote for it. What should he do ? The right of instruction and the duty of the Representative to obey it had always been a maxim of his political creed, which it so happened that he had on more than one occasion in his career, lirought conspicuously before the pub- lic Could he now tUsavow hia chtv JOHN TYLER. 143 rished convictions? One choice was left him — to resign, and he cheerfully met the issue, resigning his seat in the Senate rather than take part in the mutilation of tlie sacred record. In his letter of resignation to the Legislature of Virginia he wrote : " I dare not touch the Journal of the Senate. The Con- stitution forbids it. In the midst of all the agitations of party, I have hereto- fore stood ]>y that sacred instniment. It is the only post of honor and of safety. A seat in the Senate is sufficitnitly ele- vated to fill tJie measure of any man's ambition ; and as an evidence of the sincerity of my convictions that your resolutions cannot be executed, without violating my oath, I sun-ender into your hands three unexpired years of my term. I shall carry with me into retirement the principles which I brought with me into public life, and by the surrender of the high station to which I was called by the voice of the people of Virginia, I sliall set an example to my children which shall teach tliem to re- gard as nothing, place and office, when to be either obtained or held at the sac- rifice of honor." In the excited state of the political world at tlie time, when the attention of the whole community was fastened upon the scene in the Se- nate, such an act could not escape notice. It met with the general plaudits of the oountiy. Mr. Tyler now Ijecame a resident at Williamsburg, the early residence of his father, and passed his time in com- parative retirement. In the presiden- tial canvass of 1836 he was placed on the ticket for Vice President in several of the states, receiving forty-seven votes in all. His support was derived from the Southern State Rights Party in op- position to Jackson and Van Buren. Two years later, in 1838, we find him once more seated in the Virginia House of Delegates "acting with the "Whig Party, under which name the different sections of the opposition to Mr. Van Buren's administration gi'adually be- came amalgamated in Virginia." This connexion introduced him to the Whig nominating convention of 1839, which sat at Ilarrisburg where he made his appearance as a friend of Heniy Clay. Upon the vote being taken in favor of General Ilairison, Mr. Tyler was adopted on tlie ticket as Vice President. In the election which ensued he was chosen by the same overwhelming vote with the President. The fourth of March, 1841, saw the inauguration of President Hairison at Wasliington, and barely one month after. Vice President Tyler was himself summoned from his home at Williams- burg to enter upon the duties of that high office. It was the first time death had seized an occupant of the presiden- tial chair. President Hanison died on the fourth of Apnl, at Washington. Congress Avas not in session. The offi- cers of the cabinet, of Avliom Daniel Webster was at the head, took charge of the government for the moment, im- mediately sending a special messenger with an announcement to Vice Presi- dent Tyler of the melancholy fact. On the morning of the second day, the sixth of April, Mr. Tyler an-ived in Washing- ton, and the same day, before Judge Cranch, of the District of Columbia, took the oath, " faithfully to execute the 144 JOHN TYLER. oflRoe of Pivsidoiit of the United States, and to tlie Ix'st of his al>ility, preserve, protect and defend the Constitution of the United States." He did not think it necessary to make this oath after that which he had taken on entering ujum his duties as Vice President hut as a measure of prudence and "for greater caution as doubts may arise." On re- ceiving the niemhers of the caltinet lie expressed his wish that they should remain in office. The funeral of the late president took place on the seventh and was attended liy President Tyler. There was no jmlilic ceremonial of an inauguration on his takintj the oath before Justice Cranch and consequently no public address, but two days after 'the funeral, on the ninth of April, an " inaugural address " was issued by the President which was read with much interest. It was expected to solve the question which began to be much agi- tated of the degree of confoiiuity of the views of the new incumbent to the Whig principles of his predecessor. He had, as we have seen, been led on vari- ous occasions to cooperate with the Whig party, but many of his anteced- ents were directly hostile to their views. His name had been placed on the ticket in the Southern interest and as a friend of Mr. Clay, without any distinct pledges on his part to serve the doc- trines of the party. In fact the proba- bility of his being placed in the autho- ritative position of Pi'csident had not been very seriously if at all entertained, by the convention which, somewhat hastily, put him in nomination. The address, ho^\•ever, Avas upon the whole, acceptable to the Whigs ; it certainly gave little satisfaction to the opposite ])arty which saw in it a lurking con- demnation of the " assumjjtions " of President Jackson, and an inclination at least, toward a national hank.* A few days after this address Presi dent Tyler issued "a recommendation" to the people of the United States, of a day of fasting and prayer, in recognition of the solemn bereavement in the death of the late president. An extra session of Congress had been already summoned by President Harrison, to meet the last day of ]\Iay. It sat from that date till September. As its main object was to take into con- sideration the financial condition of the country, and, if possible, provide ways and means for its relief, the question of the creation of a new United State. Bank became a paramount subject of discussion. The President was appa rently in favor of such an institution In his message he revieAved the previous course of legislation in this matter, and admitted the last substitute, the sub- treasury, to be condemned by the peo^ pie. "To you, then," he conchided, addressing Congress, " who have come more directly from the body of our com- mon constituents, I submit the entire question, as best qualified to give a full exy)osition of their wishes and opinions. I shall be ready to concur witli you in the adoption of such system as you may propose, reserving to myself the ulti- mate power of rejecting any measure which may, in my view of it, conflict with the Constitution, or otherwise jeopard the prosperity of the country — ' Benton's TUirty Year»' View, II., 212. JOHN TYLER. 145 a power wliicli I could not part with if I would, but wliich I will not believe any act of yours will call into requisi- tion." This sentence foreshadowed the result. Two bills were prepared ac- cording to plans more or less adapted to the views of the Pi'esident, and both, when they had been passed after much discussion in Congress, were vetoed by him. For the plans and devices, the learned political doubts and constitu- tional arguments on either side we must refer the reader to the debates in Congress and the messages of President Tyler himself On the side of the Whigs throughout the countiy there sprung up a great disaffection in conse- quence, toward the President whom they had created. On the other hand, the Democratic party thanked their un- expected assistant vnth moderated en- thusiasm. It was thought to be the last effort in Congress to establish a National Bank. Other measures of re- lief, however, were passed at this extra session including the bankrupt act and a national loan. The defection of President Tyler, as it was considered, from the Whig party caused the resignation of most of the members of his cabinet. Daniel Web- ster, however, remained in the office of Secretary of State to complete the im- portant negotiation with England in reference to the disputed North Eastern Boundary. This treaty, one of the most important acts of President Tyler's administration, was negotiated between Lord Ashbiu-ton who was sent a special minister from England for the purpose, and Mr. Webster as Secretary of State in 1842. Mr. Webster held his office 19 in the cabinet till May of the following year. His successor was Mr. Abel P. Upshur of Virginia, who perished while in office, in February, 1844, by the fatal explosion on board the Princeton, on the Potomac. Mr. Calhoun was afterwards appointed Secretary of State, and in 1844 negotiated a treaty of annexation between the United States and the Re- public of Texas, which Avas rejected by the Senate. In the following year the annexation, which had been recom- mended by the President, and became a test question with politicians through the country, passed both houses. This was among the last acts of President Tyler's administration. His successor, Mr. Polk, had already been chosen, and a few months after, on the fourth of March, 1845, entered upon the duties of his office. Mr. Tyler then retired to his seat in Virginia, carrying with him to grace his home a lady of New York, a daughter of the late Mr. David Gardner, whom he had married during his Presidency, in 1844. He had been previously man'ied in 1813 to a lady of Virginia, Miss Letitia Christian, who died at Washington, leaving three sons and three daughters. One of the sons, Mr. Robert Tyler, attracted some at- tention in the literary Avorld as the author of a poem entitled Ahasuerus. After his retirement from the Presi- dency Mr. Tyler passed his time in honorable leisure, appearing on one or two occasions to deliver public ad- dresses on anniversary and other meet- ings of historical or other general in- terest. His first production of this kind was an address which should have been mentioned in the order of our nar- 146 JOHN TYLER. rative, doliverod in July, 1820, at the oapitol pquare in Richmond, in memory of his own and father's friend, the illus- trious Jefterson. The agitation arising out of the Pre- sidential election of 1860 brought Mr. Tyler again before the public. When the success of the Republican party in the election of Mr. Lincoln was followed by threats and active measures of dis- union on the part of the South, he was sent by the legislature of Virginia to "Washington, a member of the notable Peace Convention of delegates from the northern and border States, a measure origin.ally proposed in Virginia Mdth the view of warding off impending hos- tilities between the two portions of the country by some adjustment or com- promise of the questions in dispute. The convention met at Washington on the 4th of Febi-uary, 1861, and Mr. Tyler was chosen its President. In an opening address he declared the object of the assembly "to snatch from ruin a great and glorious confederation, to preserve the government, and to renew and invigorate the Constitution." In the course of his remarks he observed that "our ancestors probably com- mitted a blunder in not having fixed upon every fifth decade for a call of a general convention to amend and reform the Constitution." The con- vention, in which twenty-one States were represented, debated for three weeks various propositions, and finally detennined upon the recommendation of a plan, extending the line of the Missouri Compromise to the Pacific, and proposing additional securities for the "peculiar institution" by limitation of the legislation of Congress, and other measures. The whole was submitted to the consideration of the national Congress then in session, and the con- vention adjourned. Congress was not disposed to accept this and the like palliatives of the na- tional difliculties which were jiroposed in that body. The crisis rapidly ap- proached. The acts of secession of the Southern States were followed by the attack on Sumter. Virginia, no longer neutral, cast in her lot with the Con- federacy, and Mr. Tyler followed the fortunes of his State, and became an active Secessionist. He was chosen a senator in the Confederate Congress, and held this position at the time of his death, w^hich occurred suddenly at Richmond, January 18, 1862. 4^> >Av <^^ vith the skill and impartiality of an acute mind well practised in parlia- mentaiy logic. The importance of the position has been more than once shown, since Mr. Polk's discharge of the office, in the protracted struggles at the commencement of new sessions of the House in the equal division of parties. It must always be regarded as a most distinguishing honor for any man, and the ability and energy of Mr. Polk will be honorably remembered in its annals. That Ml-. Polk himself held a no less high sense of the dignity of his position mav be gathered from the laufniaije in which he took leave of the House on the adjournment of that body in 1839. His brief review of his duties presents an extraordinar}' picture of duty faith- fully pertonued and as honorably ap- preciated. " "When I look back to the period," was his langiiage, " when I first took my seat in this House, and then look around me for those who were at that time my associates here, I find but few, very few, remaining. But five members who were here with me four- teen years ago, continue to be members of this body. My service here has been constant and laborious. I can perhaps say what 1>ut what few othere, if aii\-, can, that I have not failed to attend the daily sittings of this House a single day since I have been a member of it, save on a single occasion, when pro- vented for a short time by indisposi- tion. In my intercourse with the mem- bei*s of this body, when I occupied a place upon the floor, though occasion- ally engaged in debates upon interest- ing public questions and of an exciting character, it is a source of unmingled gratification to me to recur to the f;\ct, that on no occasion was there the slightest personal or unpleasant colli- sion with any of its members. Main- taining, and at all times expressing, my own opinions firmly, the same right was fully conceded to others. For four years past, the station I have occupied, and a sense of propriety, in the divided and unusually exciting state of public opinion and feeling, which has existed both in this House and the coimtry,' have precluded me from participating in your debates. Other duties were assigned me. " The high office of Speaker, to which it has been twice the pleasiu-e of the House to elevate me, has been at all times one of labor and high responsi- bility. It has been made ray duty to decide more questions of parliamentary law and order, many of them of a com- plex and difficidt character, arising often in the midst of high excitement, in the coiu'se of our proceedings, than had been decided, it is believed, by all my predecessors, from the foimdation of the fjovernment. This House has uniformly sustained me, without dis- tinction of the political parties of which it has been composed. I return them my thanks for their constant support in the iischarge of the duties I have had to perform. ... I trust this JAMES KNOX POLK. 151 high office may in future times he filled, as doubtless it will be, by abler men. It cannot, I know, be filled by any one who will devote himself with more zeal and untiring industry to do his whole duty, than I have done." Mr. Polk had hardly reached his home in Tennessee after his retirement from Congress, when he engaged in a diligent canvassing of the State as a can- didate for governor at the approaching election. He was untiring in his devo- tion to his object, and so successful was his energy, that he gained the election over his opponent, the incumbent of the oflice. His inaugui-al addi-ess, deli- vered at Nash\alle in October, 1839, a remarkably clear and well-wiitten com- position, reviewed the leading distinc- tive principles of his party — the strict inteq)retation of the Constitution, in reference to express and imjilied pow- ers ; the unconstitutionality and dangers of a national bank ; the evil of a surplus Federal revenue; the inviolability of slavery by Congress in the slave-hold- ing States, and other well known posi- tions. In his own State he encouraged and assisted a " well regulated system of internal improvement." His admi- nistration was generally well received ; but when the time came for reelection, he shared the fortunes of his party and suffered a defeat. It was the moment of the popular whig triumph of Gene- ral Harrison ; two years later his rival. Governor James C. Jones, was again successful in the contest. The next turn of the political wheel canied ex-Governor Polk to the Presi- dency. A decided letter, written by him in favor of the annexation of Texas, brought him favorably before the Bal- timore Convention of May, 1844, when that nominating body had exhausted the roll of prior candidates. On the ninth ballot, after Van Bui-en, Cass and others had been set aside, he received the requisite two-thirds vote and be- came the candidate of the party. In accepting the nomination, he avowed his intention, in the event of his elec- tion, not to be a candidate for a second term. The contest between the two tickets, Polk and Dallas, Clay and Frelinghuysen, resulted in the electoral college in a majority for the former ticket of sixty-five. Fifteen States voted for Polk ; eleven, and among them Ten- nessee, by a small majority, for Clay. The successful candidate was duly in- augurated at Washington in March, 1845. The leading measures, or rather the chief events, of Polk's administration of the Presidency were the adjustment of the Oregon question with England, and the "War with Mexico. In the former he took ground in his inaugural and annual message, in accordance Avith the resolutions of the Baltimore nominatinff convention, in favor of the claim to the whole of the territory, a position which, while maintaining his view of the matter, he in a measure yielded to the will of the Senate in their accept- ance of the terms of the British govern- ment. The treaty was signed in June, 1846. A month before this, Congress officially recognized, by its declaration, the existence of war with Mexico. Of the events of that war, of which Presi- dent Polk must be considered the in- fluential agent, it is not necessary here 152 JAMES KXOX POLK. to speak in detail. Its progress was, upon the wliole, so honorable to the arms of the country, as victory after victory was chronicled in the move- ments of the gi'cat campaigns of Taylor and Scott, and the conduct of the war, at its termination, was so moderate in imposing the conditions of peace at an early moment, that much of the oppo- sition to its commencement was haj^pily neutralized. The immediate settlement of California, and its brilliant progress in civilization, under the stimulus of the gold discovery, have also thrown a halo over the war. Its ulterior eftects are yet to be read in history ; but, what- ever be the result, the date of the acqui- sition of so wide a region of territoiy bordering upon the great ocean of the West, and so rounding the world to the fal)led regions of the East, and its influ- ence upon the welfare of countless numbers of the human race, will always mark the period of the administration of President Polk. Of the unexpected results of the war, probably the least looked for was the development of one of its least known officers at the outset, into his successor in the presidential chair. President Polk, having accom- panied General Taylor to the inaugural ceremonies at the capitol on the fifth of March, 1840, retired to his home at Nash\nlle, taking Charleston and New Orleans by the way. He made the journey in safety, though an attack of dian-hsra, in his ascent of the Missis- sippi, and the inevitable fatigue of tra- vel, probably somewhat enfeebled his powers. He reached home to occupy the mansion and grounds in the heart of the city, formerly occupied by Sena- tor Grundy, of which he had become the purchaser ; but he was not destined to enjoy them long. An attack of the chronic diarrha?a to which he was sub- ject proved unmanageable by liis phy- sicians, and after a few days' illness his powers of life were exhausted. Ilis death took place on the fifteenth of June, 1849, in his fifty-fourth year, little more than three months after his retire- ment from the Presidency. In person Mr. Polk was spare, of the middle height, -with a bright, expressive eye, and ample, angular forehead. Of his personal character we may cite the words of his biog- raj)her : " lie was simple and plain in all his habits. His private life was upright and blameless. Honesty and integrity characterized his intercom'se with his fellow men ; fidelity and aftec- tion his relations to his family. In his friendships he was frank and sincere; and courteous and afi'able in his dispo sition. He was generous and benevo- lent ; but his charities, like his charac- ! ter, were unostentatious. He was pious, too, sincerely ; his wife was a member of the Presbyterian church, but he never united ^vith &n\ denomination, j though on his dpng bed he received the rite of baptism at the hands of a Methodist clergyman, an old neighbor and friend." * * The life of James Knox Polk, by John S. Jcuklna Z^:?:x«?:v£^:^>^>-^:>0^^^^^ ZACHARY TAYLOR. Of the modern heroes of America few stand out so simply and distinctly, 80 " clear in their great office," as Gene- ral Zachary Taylor. His character was of remarkable purity, distinguished by equal worth and modesty. When he suddenly became celebrated in the Mexican war, it was found that, though unknown to fame, he had deserved re- putation by his gallant conduct in 1812, and subsequently in Florida. lie was known and respected in the army ; but there had been no blazon of his deeds in the newspapers. He was con- tent with the performance of his duty. This was a motto and reward all suffi- cient to his mind. The type of cha- racter which distinguishes him is that of the elder worthies of the Revolution, the Schuylers, Moultries and Pinck- neys. Zachary Taylor was born in Orange county, Virginia, November 24, 1784, of a family, English in its origin, which had long been settled in the colony. His father, a man of a brave, adventur- ous turn, familiarly known among his brother pioneers as Captain Dick Tay- lor, emigrated when the child was not a year old, to the western part of the State, what was then known as " the dark and bloody ground" of Indian strife — the present Kentucky. There 20 the boy had his training in the rude, hearty, independent pursuits of frontier life. We hear something of his school- master, the approved migratoiy New England pedagogue, who, when his pupil became celebrated, remembered him as "a very active and sensible boy." Of his good sense we have no doubt, for it was a quality which marked him through life ; while, of his activity, there is a story related of his yoimger days, of his swimming across the Ohio, from the Kentucky to the Indiana shore, stemming a freezing flood in March. His entry in the army dates ft-om that memorable period of the attack of the Shannon upon the Chesapeake, the fountain of many woes and glories in the national annals. His father, who was something of a politician, procured him the appointment from Jefferson's administration in 1808 of lieutenant in the Seventh United States infantry. He thus commenced his career in the regular service. Two years later the young man is married to Miss Margaret Smith of Maiyland. Immediately upon the declaration of war AAath England in 1812, we find him engaged under Gen- eral Harrison in the protection of the northwestern territory against the at- tacks of the Indians. His defence, in 153 154 ZACHARY TAYLOR. that year, of Fort Harrison, on the AVabash, in the territory' of Indiana, against an attack of the Mianiis, is one of the memorable incidents of tlie war. This fort, built by the general •whose name it bears, was situated on the upper part of the river, above the preseTit town of Tcn-e Ilaxite. It was defended by pickets on three sides, %vith a row of ban-acks and a block- house at either end on the fourth. Captain Taylor was left in charge of the work with a small company of men, in the words of his dis]>atch to General Harrison, "not more than ten or fifteen able to do a great deal, the others being cither sick or convales- cent." He had warning of the threat- ened approach of a party of the Pro- ])het's men — the attack belonging to that series of movements instigated by Tecumseh and his brother — and though for some time he had not considered the post tenable against a lai'ge force, he ])rc])ared to defend it to the best of his al)ility. On the third of Sei)tember, two young men, making hay in the neighl>orhood of the fort, were picked off by the Indians, and the next night they came in numbers to the assault. They l)egan by firing one of the block-houses, which endangered the whole line of barracks. Captain Tay- lor, almost disabled from a severe fever, rallied his little force of invalids to extinguish it, but the fire having communicated to a stock of whisky in the l)uilding, soon ascended to the roof, and his efforts had to be directed to the adjoining houses. The situation was desperate. In his own simple words, " Sir, what from the rasjing of the fire, the yelling and howling of several hundred Indians, the cries of nine women and children, part sol- diers' and part citizens' wives, who had taken refuge in the fort, and the de- sponding of so many men, which was worse than all, I can assure you that my feelings were unpleasant." But, by his own energy, and the assistance of Surgeon Clark, the only one to aid him in the command, the roof was stripped from the next buildinir and water from the well applied to the exposed por- tions. The line was saved, and the open space of the fire defended by a temporary breastwork. All this was done under the enemy's fire of bullets and arrows, lasting for seven hours, the flames lighting up the men at work as marks for the hostile missiles. When daylight came the fire was returned with effect, and the Indians took their departure, slaughtering the horses in the vicinity, and di'iving off a large stock of cattle ; what with this and the stores lost in the conflagration, leaving the garrison to a diet of green com. For this spirited defence. President Madison conferred upon Taylor the brevet rank of major. On the reorganization of the army after the peace, it was proposed to de- prive him of this rank, which he re- sented, and would have retired to an agricultural life had not the govern- ment, by yielding, retained him in the army. lie was employed in the Indian service in various ways, and in the Black Hawk war of 1832 appears in the field, taking an active part as colo- nel in the concluding battle of the Bad Axe river. His next scene of opera- ZACHARY TAYLOR. 155 tions was the Florida war, a field of greater difficulty tlian glory. He was ordered to this service in 1836, and in Decemlier of the following year led an , expedition of about a thousand men, a few volunteers and the rest regulars, from Fort Gardiner toward Lake Oke- chol)ee, in the immediate neighborhood of which the enemy, some seven hun- dred strong, were encamped in a ham- mock. As the place was approached, it was found to be protected in front by a swamp three quarters of a mile in breadth. It was " totally impassable for horses, and nearly so for foot, cov- ered with a thick growth of saw-grass five feet high, and about knee deep in mud and water." This was to be crossed to get within range of the foe, who fought from behind trees with every advantage of position. In the an-angement of the attack, the volun- teers were sent forward with directions to fall back, if necessary, while the regulars would sustain them. They advanced, were fired upon, their com- mander Colonel Gentry of Missouri slain, when they retreated. The regu- lars then made their way through the high, stiif grass, suffering heavy losses ; the place of the fallen was succeeded by others, and the enemy finally di-iven to the lake in confusion. The action lasted from half past twelve till three P.M. It was one of the important vic- tories of the war, it being exceedingly difficult to get the Indians to stand in battle in any numbers. Here nothing but the most tried valor could prevail against them. Colonel Taylor's loss was very heavy, both in officers, as was usual in this war, and in men. In his dispatch, he stops to express his feeling for the wounded. " Here," says he, " I trust I may be permitted to say that I experienced one of the most trying scenes of my life, and he who could have looked on it with indifference, his nerves must have been differently or- ganized from my own." His management of this affair and general efficiency in the campaign were rewarded with the brevet rank of bri- gadier-general, and shortly after with the chief command in the State, which he held till the arrival of General Macomb. General Taylor's plan was to divide the whole region into a series of military districts, each presided over by a fort or stockade, whence the troops might take the aggressive on occasion. He was employed in Florida two years later till 1840, when he was assigned to the command of the southwestern divi- sion of the army, and had his head quarters at Fort Jesup, Louisiana. This brought him within the line of employ- ment in Texas, when, on the annexation of that country to the United States, it became necessary to j^rotect her west- ern fi'ontier from Mexican invasion. He was consequently ordered to the district in June, 1845, and immediately established his headquarters at Corpus Christi, on the west bank of the Nueces, at its mouth. There the " army of ob- servation" gradually augmented, vrith the progress of war alarms, to a force of nearly four thousand men, the " army of occupation," remained many months, till March of the following year, when its commander received directions to advance to the ultimate boundary, the llio Grande. The march of seventeeu 156 ZACHARY TAYLOR. days was made across the interveninjT desert, meetiiii^ witli no (tpposition of consetjuenoe uj) tt> the time of arrival at the j)i)iiit of the river oj)posite Mata- moras, on the twenty-eightli of the month. A flag-staff was immediately erected on the spot, and the American ensign raised, as the ])ands played the national airs "Yankee Doodle" and "The Star-spangled Banner." This vi- cinity was destined to be the scene of several formidable conflicts. We shall not trench upon the province of history to pursue the movements here with any great minuteness ; but shall touch light- ly upon the main incidents of the cam- l)aign, which leads us over the l)attle- fields of Palo Alto, Resaca de la Palma, to the storming of ]\Ionterey and the great struggle at Ruena Vista. The ])lace at which tlie army first rested was within sight of the enemy's headquarters at Matamoras, separated only by tlie intervenins: river. There having taken his station, and, as he told the ]Me.\ican authorities, in accordance with the instructions of his government, being determined to remain, the first em])loyment of General Taylor, of course, was to provide some adequate defences — the more as he was in tace of a considerable body of the foe, to whom large reinforcements, commanded by e.vperienced generals, were already on tlie way, and war was no longer a matter of uncertainty. A camp was established, and the extensive work, Fort Bi-own, on the bank of the river, commanding the opi)osite to\\-n, com- menced. Point Isabel, a day's march distant in the rear, on the coast, the fu-st harbor to the north of tlie llio Grande, was the depot for supplies General Taylor in his advance had taken possession of this j)lace, and left a small gamson for its protection. On the twelftli of April, General Ampudia, having arrived at INIatamoras with rein- forcements, and taken the command, addressed a communication to General Taylor, requiring liim within tAventy- four hours to retire to the Nueces while the Texas question was under discus- sion between the two governments, or accept the alternative of a resort to arms. To this the American com- mander re])lied, that he had been or- dennl to occupy the country to the left bank of the llio Grande till the boun- dary should be definitely settled ; that in discharging this duty, he had care- fully abstained from all acts of hostility, and that the instructions under which he was acting would not permit him to retrograde from the position he occu- pied ; and as for war, while he regretted the alternative, he should not avoid it, but " leave the responsibility with those who rashly commence hostilities." After this the military proceedings thickened apace. The right bank of the I'iver, abc)ve and below the camp, swarmed with the irregular troops of the enemy. Colonel Trueraan Cross, as- sistant quartermaster-general, ali-eady, on the tenth, had been murdered, as he was taking his usual ride in the neigh- borhood of the camp. On the twenty- fourth a communication came from Gen- eral Avista, who had succeeded Ampudia in the command, conveying a further declaration of hostilities; and simulta- neously word reached the camp of the crossing uf the enemy in considerable ZACHARY TAYLOR. 157 numbers. Captain Tliomton, sent above to reconnoitre, was surprised in a plan- tation inclosure, and his little force cap- tured. Below, Point Isabel was in dan- ger of being cut off, an obvious move- ment of the enemy, which required all the vigilance of General Taylor to coun- teract. Leaving, accordingly, a sufficient garrison for the defence of Fort Brown, he set out, on the first of May, with the main body of his troops, for the relief of that important station. He arrived at the place without interruption, ac- complished his purpose in adding to its strength, and, on the seventh, invited by the signal guns of Fort Brown, which was sufferinor a bomljardment, began his return, with about twenty- two hundred men, brin!?in2: Avith him two eighteen-pounders, in addition to the artillery he had taken with him, and a large train of wagons. About noon on the following day, the Mexican troops were reported in front, and were Boon found occupying the road, on an open prairie skirted by a growth of chaparral. This was the field of Palo Alto, so named from the thickets rising above the general level. The Mexi- cans, six thousand in number, com- manded by General Arista, were drawn up in a single line, " artillery, infantiy and cavalry placed alternately, forming a living wall more than a mile in ex- tent, of physical strength, of steel and latent fire."^ The American force was disposed by General Taylor with less regularity, but mostly in a parallel out- line. The right wing, comprising the ' Thorpe's " Our Army on the Kio Grande," p. 74. larger part of the force, including Ring- gold's artillery and the eighteen-pound- ers, was under the orders of Colonel Twiggs; the left was commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Belknap. The train was protected by a squadron of dra- goons in the rear. Having made these arrangements, General Taylor coolly directed the men to stack their arms, mai'ch in comj^anies, and suj^ply them- selves with the fresh water of the ad- joining ponds in place of the brackish water mth which they had been fur- nished at Point Isabel The columns then advanced, when the engagement was commenced, shortly after two in the afternoon, by the Mexican batte- ries. This fire was promptly met by the whole American artilleiy, the eight- een-pounders, di-awn up in the road, and Ringgold's pieces doing eminent execution. An important movement of the enemy's cavaliy, fifteen hundred strong, led by General Ton-ejon, on the right, threatening the flank, was de- feated by the fifth infantry, the flying artillery and Captain Walker's Texan volunteers. While this was proceeding, the diy grass of the prairie took fire and swept a volume of smoke over the field, partially concealing the armies from one another. Under cover of this obscuration, the line of the enemy, which had suffered fi-om the artillery, was reformed in the rear of its first position, and the American correspond- ingly advanced. After a pause of about an hour, the fire was reopened, the action being confined chiefly to the artilleiy on both sides. The superi- ority of the American fire was un- doubted ; but it was dearly purchased, 153 ZACIIARY TAYLOR. by tlie loss of the gallant ]\rajor Ring- gold, whose name is iilentiJied with this effective arm of the service. The day closed with a brilliant attack from the enemy's right, which was met with great sj)irit by Cajitain Duncan's ai'til- lery In the darkness of the evening the enemy retired to a new position, and the Avearied Americans slept on their battle-field, their general spreading his blanket on the grass in the midst of the troops. The loss of the Mexicans was much heavier than that of om* own forces; the commander of the former reporting two hundred and fifty-two killed, wounded and missing, while General Taylor's dispatch numbers only seven killed, including three officers, and thii-ty-nine wounded — an a])parent- ly small number of either army, consi- dering the strength on both sides of the artillery and the skill with which it was served on a level plain. The next day brought the battle of Resaca de la Pidma. Early in the morning the enemy had retired toward Matamoras, to a strong position at a ravine, crossed by the road and sur- rounded by a thick growth of chaparral. The a]>])roach on the highway was de- fended bj' a strongly posted force of ar- tilleiy. Thither the foe were pursued by General Taylor, who, spite of the supe- rioiity of numbers confronting him, ex- pressed his determination to be at Fort Brown before night. Having provided for the safety of the supply-train, he commenced the attack alwut three in the afternoon, by advancing a large body of skii-mishers and the battery of Lieutenant Ridgely. The latter took up a position on the road. Owing to the nature of the ground, the engage ment which ensued was of an eniirely ditlei-ent character from that of the preceding day. The enemy were shel- tered by the ravine on both its sides. The gro\vth in front, beside the pro- tection of the rising ground, impeded the free play of the American artil- lery. As the enemy's cannon com- manded the only accessible a])proach by the road, it became evident to Gen- eral Taylor, after sending forward his infantry, that however the latter might discharge their duty — and they did make, in his own language, " resistless progress" — nothing decisive could be accomplished till that fire was silenced. He consequently sent to the rear for the gallant Captain May and his dra- goons, and committed to them the work.' "You must chartre the enemies' batte- ries, and take them," was the general's language. " I will do it," was May's response. And, ardent as the onset of the six hundred at Balaclava, " into the jaws of death," but not so purposeless, sped the brave captain and his troop. Waiting a few moments for Ridgely at his battery, three hundred yards dis- tant, to draw the fire of the enemy's artillery, he galloped fui'iously over the road, followed by his company, to re- ceive the fire of the inner battery, which levelled at one discharsire eitrhteen hoi-ses and seven men of his troop, Lieutenant Inge, one of the number, at his side. But the battery was swept of its de- fenders ; and though May, unsupported by infantry, exposed as he was to a shower of grape and musketry, was compelled to retire, he fought his way out of the mass of the foe, liringing ZACHARY TAYLOR. 159 with him to the camp an eminent prisoner of war, General La Vega, a brave officer, whom he had found the last at the guns, rallying his flying sol- diers to their duty. Infantry were meanwhile ordered up, and the advant- age of the charge secured in di-iving the enemy from their artillery on the left. On the right a breastwork was stormed, its gun taken, and other successes achiev- ed, completing the rout in this quarter, including the capture of the general's camp, with all his official correspond- ence. The artillery battalion left to guard the train, with other forces, were now ordered in pursuit, and the flying army was di-iven to the river, where many perished in the attempt to escape. " In the camp of the army," says an in- teresting narrator of these scenes, " were found the preparations for a great festi- val, no doubt to follow the expected victory. The camp-kettles were sim- mering over the fires, filled Avith savory viands, oft' of which our troops made a plentiful evening meal. In the road were carcasses of half-skinned oxen. The hangers-on of the camp, while the battle was raging, were busy in theu- feast-preparing worlc, unconscious of dangers, when, on an instant, a sudden panic must have seized them, and they fled, leaving their half-comj^leted la- bors to be consummated by our own troops." ^ Seventeen hundred was the number of General Taylor's force engaged Avith the Mexicans. His loss was three offi- cers, Lieutenants Inge, Cochrane and Chadbourne, and thii-tj'-six men killed ; ' Thorpe's "Our Army on the Ric Grande," p. 104. twelve officers and seventy men wound- ed. General Taylor, in his dispatch, estimated the Mexican loss, killed, wounded and missing, duilng the two days, at not less than one thousand men. In a dispatch from the field that night, he wrote with characteristic sim- plicity : " The aftair of to-day may be regarded as a projjer sujiplemeut to the cannonade of yesterday ; and the two taken together exhibit the coolness and gallantry of our officers and men in the most favorable light. All have done their duty, and done it nobly." A few days, in a fuller report, he added: " Our victory has been decisive. A small force has overcome immense odds of the best troops that Mexico can furnish — ^veteran regiments, perfectly equipped and apjiointed. Eight pieces of artillery, several colors and stand- ards, a great number of prisoners, in- cluding fourteen officers, and a large amount of baggage and j^ublic property, have fallen into our hands." This decided success established the fortunes of General Taylor's Mexican campaign. Everj^thing had been put to the hazard, and everything gained. The force which he commanded, large enough for resistance, too small, appar rently, for conquest, invited the attack of the superior hosts. Victory ap- peared an easy matter to the Mexican general, who had the choice of the ground, and who was enabled to divide the little Ameiican army between the field and the fort. His supplies were at hand in a considerable city with a chain of towns in its rear, reaching into the heart of the country. He had made every calculation for success. While he 160 ZACHARY TAYLOR. was attacking the ATnorioans on their marcli l\v a woll-plannod military move- ment, the l)atteries of Matamoras were at work on Fort Bro^vn. One thing only was wanting to his forces, the des- perate courage tor an assault. If this nerve of the bayonet had l)een supplied, Arista might, -with his numbers and resources, have done with ease what Jackson and his defenders at New Or- leans so bravely accomplished, and swept his enemies into the sea. But he had other stuff in his ranks. K the Mexicans at the outset were natui-ally confident of success, the Ame- ricans at home trembled for the fate of General Taylor's expedition, and the moral effect of his Nnctorj'-, in the same proportion, disheartened the one and elevated the other. The brave troops on the llio Grande, it was felt, had re- paired the over confidence of the ad- noiuistratiou at AVashington. General Taylor had achieved not only a military success, l)ut he had rescued the countiy from the risk of disgrace. Nothing Dould have been better contrived than the unintentional conduct of the go- vernment, for the creation of a hero. The American general was placed in a position where the greatest glory was to be reached -s^th the smallest com- mand. The Me.xican army was completely disorganized at Matamoras. Their can- nonading of Fort Brown had ceased ■with the defeat of their army, and little was to be thought of but surrender. General Taylor was soon on hand to hasten the movement. After the duty to the dead and wounded had been performed, he proceeded to Point Isa- bel to confer with Commodore Conner, who had brought up his fleet to the assistance of the imperilled little army. The stoiy is, that the etiquette of this meeting severely ta.\ed the resources of the brave general's wardrobe. Long accustomed to frontier warfare and pro- tracted Indian campaigns, where there was more rough labor to be performed than military pomp to be indulged. Old Zach, as he was afiectionately and fami- liarly called, had adapted his dress to the exigency of the climate and service. His linen roundabout was far better known in the camp than his unifoiTn. Thinking, however, that something was due from the commander-in-chief of the army to the head of the navy, who was understood to be punctilious in dress, he painfully arrayed himself in the re- gulation coat, fished from the dej)ths of his chest; while the gallant commodore, knowing the habits of the general, in an equally generous spirit of concession, clothed himself for the interview in a simple suit of drilling. After this, it is said. Old Zach returned more sedu- lously than ever to his wonted simpli- city of attire. All his habits, indeed, partook of the same plain convenience. Hardy and unostentatious in his mode of living, he was accustomed to the rough fare of the camp and an impre- tending tent sufficed for the dignity of his headquarters. The proper arrangements having been made at Point Isabel, General Taylor hastened again to the camp over a road no longer intemipted by Ai-ista and his host. Ilis next movement was to take possession of Matamoras, peaceably if he could, forcibly if he must. Upon ZACHARY TAYLOR. 161 his making his preparations for the Litter, the discreet course appeared preferable to the Mexicans, and the town was given up, on the eighteenth of the month, to the army of occupa- tion. Ai'ista had fled, with such of his troops as were in a condition to travel, leaving the place to the hostilities of the Americans, which proved much kinder than the tender mercies of the defenders. The summer was passed by General Taylor at Matamoras, receiving the recruits, who, summoned by the first signal of danger, were now pouring to the Rio Grande. The means of ad- vance had also to be collected, and the force organized to pursue the enemy in the interior. Monterey to the west, at the foot of the Sierra Madre, where General Ampudia, who had succeeded Arista in the command, had established himself with a considerable body of troops, was the fii'st object of attack. Sending forward his forces by the Rio Grande to Camargo, General Taylor thence pursued his way aci-oss the desert, reaching the San Juan, in the immediate neighborhood of Monterey, on the nineteenth of September. From that moment the brave and toilsome operations of the attack, which was con- tinued for five days, may be said to have commenced. The town, thoroughly ca- pable of defence, was manned by a gar- rison of ten thousand men, more than two-thirds of whom were regular troops, •with, a defence of forty-two pieces of cannon ; its outworks were important, and the most extensive preparations of barricades and batteries were made within. The entire force General Tay- 21 lor brought against it, numbered six thousand, six hundred and seventy-five. He had no siege train, which might be thought indispensable to the work he was about to undertake, and an artillery force of only one ten-inch mortar, two twenty-four pounder howitzers, and foui" light field batteries of four guns each. The first observation of the town convinced General Taylor that it might be turned on its westerly side, where the only means of escape to its occupants lay in the road to Saltillo. There were important detached works on that side, but the main defences were in the citadel on the north, the river and a series of redoubts on the southerly and easterly approaches. The reconnaisance was made after General Taylor's arrival on the nineteenth ; on the twentieth. General Worth moved with his command toward the Saltillo road to cany out the plan of the com- mander-in-chief. The latter himself directed the proceedings on the east. The main points, and they were highly important ones, accomplished by Gene- ral Worth on that day of hard fighting, the twenty-first, were the occupation of the road, and the storming of the works at the heights, adjacent to the city on the west. Turning to General Taylor's special command, we find him at the same time directing an attack on the opposite side of the town, which was conducted with such gallantry, in the face of a murderous cross-fire from the forts, that the streets of the city were gained, and the roof of one of its buildings taken advantage of to assaU with musketry the defenders of the 162 ZACHART TAYLOR. fort comninnding this approach, which was also attackotl from the outer side. | Under this coiiilnnation the fort fell. It was the important success of the .lay. In General Taylor's words, "the main ohject proposed in the morning had been effected. A powerful diver- sion had been made to favor the opera- tions of the second division (General Worth's) ; one of the enemy's advanced works had been carried, and Ave now had a strong foothold in the town." The loss in achieving this result, may indicate the gallantry with which it was accomplished. The number killed and wounded, in these operations in the lower part of the city that day, was three hundred and ninety-four. The next, the twenty-second, saw the com- pletion of General Worth's design in the capture of the Bishop's Palace on Independence Hill, that work being commanded by the position he had stonued the day before. General Tay- lor employed the day in relieving his troops who had passed the night on the lower side of the town, and main- taining his advantages in that quarter. It was now evident that the city, being commanded from either end, must in due time surrender. The military event of the twenty-thii'd, the third great day of the siege, was the advance into the town of the volunteers under Gen- erals Quitman and Henderson, sup- ' ported by Captain Bragg's battery. From house to house, from square to square, the advance against the strong barriers was gained by musketiy from the roofs, by grape-shot in the streets, to a position but a single square dis- tant from the principal plaz.n, whero the enemy's force was mainly concen- trated. A similar advance was made into the city from the opposite side by General Worth. The work of the next day, had it been neces.sary to continue the assault, would have been a last, short, bloody, decisive struggle. For- tunately, it Avas spared by a cajiitula- tion. The outcries of the townspeople, no less than the necessities of the gar- rison, compelled the sim-ender. On the morning of the twenty-fourth, a comnmnication was received by Gene- ral Taylor from General Amj)U(lia, stating that having made the defence of which he thought the city suscej)ti- ble, he had " fulfilled his duty, and satisfied that military honor which, in ' a certain manner, is common to all armies of the civilized world." To continiie the defence, he said, would only be further to distress the pop- ulation which had suffered enough already: he, therefore, proposed to evacuate the city and fort, carrying with him the 2^ersonnel and mater/el of war. In answer to this, a com})lete surrender of the town and garrison as prisoners of war was demanded ; but such surrender, it was added, Avould be upon terms recognizing by their libe- rality " the gallant defence of the place, creditable alike to the Mexican troops and nation." The hour of twelve was appointed to determine the qiiestion. At that time the two chiefs met to arranire the temis of surrender. Gen- eral Ampudia, not satisfied with the proposition offered, insisted upon his original conditions; and General Tay- ZACHARY TAYLOR. 163 lor, who had made up his mind, was in consequence on the point of breaking up the conference, when a suggestion was offered and reluctantly accepted by him, to refer the negotiation to a body of commissioners on both sides. General Worth, General Henderson, and Colonel Jefferson Davis acted for the Americans. With some difficulty the terms were arranged. The town and citadel, with the arms and muni- tions of war were surrendered, the Mexican forces to retire — the officers with their side arms, the cavalry with their arms and accoutrements, the artil- lery with one field battery — within seven days beyond the line formed l)y the pass of Linconada, the city of Linares and San Fernando de Preras; and an armistice of eight weeks to be entered upon. The Mexican flag, when struck at the citadel, was to be saluted by its own battery. That ceremony was performed on the morning of the twenty-fifth. The American flag was unfolded, and the Mexican troops took their departure. It was a brilliant suc- cess in the taking of a town. Its cost, as summed up hy General Taylor in his disjjatch, was twelve officers and one hundred and eight men killed; thirty-one officers and three hundred and thirty-seven men wounded. It was thought by the government at Washington tliat too favorable terms had been allowed the enemy in the capitulation, that their surrender should have been unconditional, and that the armistice should not have been granted. But those who made the negotiation were governed by sound motives, both of policy and humanity. They might, indeed, have completed the conquest at the plaza and taken the citadel ; but it would have been at an enormous cost of life, both to victors and vanquished ; much property would have been de- stroyed which was saved by the nego- tiation ; nor had General Taylor a force sufficient to guard all the avenues of escape to so great a body of men. Moreover, the prospect of peace was urged by the Mexican General in con- sequence of the return of Santa Anna, which had been more than winked at, ^vith this view, by the American gov- ernment itself, which had indeed pre- viously proffered peace negotiations. As for the armistice, the little army at Monterey was at any rate unable to move for some time, until reinforce- ments should arrive, upon any further considerable expedition into the inte- rior. It had but ten days' rations at the time of the capitulation, and had been all along deficient in wagons. So that, on many grounds, the negotiation of General Taylor was to be justified. These military successes, however l)rilliant as they were, were unproduc- tive of the desirable result of "con- quering a peace" from the enemy. The very humiliation which they in- flicted, only roused the spirit of the country to greater resistance, and what- ever peace intentions General Santa Anna, now placed at the head of affairs, had when he landed at Vera Cruz, he was clearly unable to carry them out while the Americans were thus constantly victorious. For the purposes of the war, it might have been good policy of the invaders to have suffered a defeat, to humor na- lU ZACIIARY TAYLOR. tional pridp, and smooth the wny to oolloot the forces for his exjit'dition. nogotiation ami (Miuvssion. DolV'at Tlu' iinportant tlivi.siiuis of (JeiuTal was not, however, a word to bo found ! "NVortli, Twiggs, Quitman, and other in the military vtu-abulary of Old Zach. choice troops, artillery and volunteei-s. He had an indomitaMe, unreasoning were stripped from General Taylor's* soldiers logic, which led him by a very ci>nuuand, and his jdan of operations at short path to one single conclusion, that Victoria and other advanced places victory was tJie business of war ; and well or ill j>ro\-ided with such resources as he had, in the face of whatever in the interior entirely broken up. Nothing further was expected of him than to defend himself at Monterey, obstacles might be in the way, he went , should Santa Anna, who was in great straight forward to that result. He . force at San Luis Potosi, extend his movements in that dii-ection. The IVIexican General, who had become aware of the ]>lans of his foe liy an intcrcej)tcd ilis])atch, was thought more likely to turn his attention to the intended landing at Vera Cruz. He determined, however, to strike a blow with his large army, which seemed quite sufficient to sweep every Ameri made no noisy demonstrations, but took his ground boldly and fought to the end. His last liattlo was to crown the whole. The circumstances luulcr which the enojairement at Buena Vista was foucrht. rtMider it the most memorable of the whole campaign. The government at Washingttui having come to the con- clusion that their svstcm of bonle. ' can from the neitrhborhood of the Kio attack, however well j)ursued, would , Grande. He accordingly marched with not end the war, determined to strike , his twenty thousand men toward the nt the heart of the country, its capital, jmsition, in the vicinity of Saltillo, of by its great avenue of apj)roach, the General Taylor and his bands of volun- line of Vera Cruz. In the month of teei*s. November, General Scott was ordered ! Among the latter was the new to the Gulf of Mexico to take such , and important conuuand of General mejisures, as in his judgment he might Wool, which had just reached the think proj)er, to cany the resolution scene of action from an overland march into etVcct. General Tavlor, in this throudi Texas. To this officer bclouccs arrangement, was to be left on the Kio the credit of the selection of the pass Grande, with a force barely sutlicient ; where the Americans so well defended to maintain a defensive position, while ' themselves : it was his fortune, being he yielded to Scott, for his more bril- 1 left in command at the point, to open li.int service, the best part of his troo]is, the battle; and to him were sjuvially the tried regidai-s who had fought with entrusted some of the most imjiortant him from Corpus Christi along the line movenunits of the da} . It was an of battles to Monterey. General Scott admirably chosen ground for defence, an-ived at the Rio Grande about the a narrow valley enclosed on either first of Januar}', 1847, and began to I hand by lofty mountains, with seamed ZACnARY TAYLOR. 165 and broken ground, with the passage on the road additionally protected by a river course and deej) i-avine at its side. Tlie best naturally guarded ground of the whole, where the mountain on one side and the ravine on the otlier ap- proached nearest each other, the Pass of Angostura, was that taken for the American stand. There, on the morn- ing of the twenty-second of February, Washington's birthday, as the enemy made his appearance, the road was defended by a battery of eight guns, supported on either hand by companies of infantiy. The remaining troops were ])laced, in advantageous positions, on a plateau and amidst the ravines, across the whole breadth of the valley. Th('S(! dispositions were made by Gene- ral Wo(j1, General Taylor having been during the night at Saltillo, to provide against a threatened attack in that quarter. He presently came up, biing- ing with him additional troops, and assumed the command. At eleven o'clock, a summons was received from Santa Anna to surrender. "You are surrounded," was the lan- guage of this communication, " by twenty thousand men, and cannot, in any human probability, avoid suffering a rout and being cut to pieces with your trofjps ; but as you deserve con- sideration and particular esteem, I wish to save you j&'om a catastrophe, and for that ])urpose give you this notice, in order that you may surrender at dis- cretion, under the assurance that you ivill be treated with the consideration belonging to the Mexican character, to which end you will be granted an houi"'8 time to make up your mind, to commence from the moment when my flag of truce airives in your camp ;" to all which considerate attention, Za- chary Taylor sent the following brief sentence — " Sir : In reply to your note of this date, summoning me to sur- render my forces at disci'etion, I beg leave to say that I decline acceding to your request." So the battle was in- augurated. There was some skirmish- ing in the afternoon, as the Mexicans felt their way preparatory to the action of the twenty-third. General Taylor again passed the night at Saltillo, his presence there being necessary to as- sure the defence of the place which was now more seriously threatened. Before his return to the pass, the ene- my, at daylight, had commenced their attack. It was made with great force, and with varying success. There was '.anger of the American position being completely turned, but by a series of skillful manffcuvres, admirably exe- cuted, and sustained by the artillery and companies of volunteers, the ene- my was driven back. An incident occurred in this re pulse, which for its bearing upon the personal character of General Tay- lor, may be separated from the mass of details of this engagement Ijang before us. "It was during this re- treat," says Mr. Daw.son in his account of the action, "that two thousand Mexicans, anxious to escape the fire in their rear, as well as a destructive fire on their flank from the troops on the plateau, had sought shelter in the recesses of the mountains, and were huddled together in a helpless, disor- derly mass. At this moment the good 166 ZACHARY TAYLOR. nesa of (roiieral Taylor's heart inter- ceded ill tlieir behalf, notwithstanding they were enemies; and he hesitated before sacrificing a single life — even that of an enemy — unnecessarily. With the merciful desire of saving life, there- fore, he dispatched Lieutenant Critten- den, his aid-de-c«mp, with a flag, and demanded the surrender of the party ; but instead of complying with the demand, the Mexicans availed them- selves of the opportunity aftbrded them, and marched out of the gorge, while the troops under General Wool, under orders from General Taylor, silently looked on, without being permitted to fire a shot, or take a step to prevent their escape."* One last efl'ort was left to be di- rected by Santa Anna himself Ral- lying liis forces for an overwhelm- ing attack on the central ])lateau, he would have gained that important position had he not been met by the American artilleiy, the IMississippi rifles, and other comi)anie3 suddenly brought into position against him. It was on this occasion that General Taj'- lor, as the fortune of the day stood in the balance, coolly uttered his memora- ble advice to his artillerist, "A little more grape. Captain Bragg ! " Let him tell the story in the usual simple words of his own disjiatch, where we may be sure we shall hear nothing of this dra- matic point. "The moment was most critical. Captain O'Brien, with two pieces, had sustained the heavy charge to the last, ami was finally obliged to leave his guns on the field — his infantry ■ Battles of the United Sutes, II. 496. support being entirely routed. Cap- tain Bragg, who had just arrived from [ the left, was ordered at once into bat- I teiy. Without any infantry to sujjjjort him, and at the imminent risk of losing his guns, this oflicer came rapidly into I action, the Me,\icau line being but a j few yards from the muzzle of liis pieces. The first discharge of canister caused the enemy to hesitate ; the second and thiid drove him Itack in disorder and saved the day." There were other ser- j vices rendered in the final repulse, but for them and the merits of particular oflicers and companies in the battle, we must refer the reader to the various dispatches and military narratives of the day. i Let one brief ])assage from General Taylor's nai-rative declare the spirit which ruled the gallant bands of volun- teers, nearly all for the first time under fire on that occasion. " No further attemj>t," he wi'ites in his ofticial ac- count, " was made by the enemy to force our position, and the approach of night gave an opportunity to pay pro- per attention to the wounded, and also to refresh the soldiers, Avho had l)een exhausted by incessant watchfulness and combat. Though the night was severely cold, the troops were compelled for the most to bivouac without fires, expecting that morning would renew the conflict. During the night the wound- ed were removed to Saltillo, and eveiy preparation made to receive the enemy, should he again attack our position." The enemy, however, made no such attempt. Leaving his wounded on the way, he made good his retreat to San Luis Potosi. The few figures ^Yith ZACHART TAYLOR. 167 which the stories of all battles end will tell better than aught else the heroism of the brave encounter. The American force engaged was three hundred and thirty-four officers and four thousand four hundred and twenty-five men, of which two squadrons of cavalry and three batteries of light artillery, making not more than four hundred and fifty- three men, composed the only force of regular troops. The Mexican forces, we have seen stated by Santa Anna himself, at twenty thousand, an esti- mate confii-med by all subsequent in- formation. The American loss was two hundred and sixty-seven killed, four hundi'ed and fifty-six wounded and twenty-three missing. The Mexican loss was computed by General Taylor at between fifteen hundred and two thousand. At least five hundred killed were left on the field of battle. Thus closed General Taylor's connec- tion with the active operations of the Mexican War. He was for some time engaged in camp duties, when he re- quested leave of absence to attend to the duties of his plantations on the MississipjDi. His home was at Baton Rouge, Louisiana, the residence also of his estimable son-in-law the late Colonel Bliss, a member of his staff dui'ing his Mexican camj^aigns. The battle of Buena Vista, was, as we have seen, fought at the end of Februaiy, 1847. Just two years from that time, March 4, 1849, its brave and modest commander was installed as President of the United States at Wash- ington. The two events may safely be put in conjunction, for one proceeded dii'ectly out of the other. General Tay- lor, as Senator Benton remarked, was the first President elected upon a repu- tation purely military. He had been in the army from his youth, and, ac- cording to the custom of officers of the army, had not even voted at an elec- tion. He was selected, of course, on account of his availability ; yet it was an availaliility which did not rest alto- gether on his purely military character. " It will be a great mistake," said Dan- iel Webster to the Senate, " to suppose that he owed his advancement to high civil trust, or his great acceptableness with the people to military talent or ability alone. Associated with the highest admiration for those qualities possessed by him, there was spread throughout the community a high de- gree of confidence and faith in his in- tegrity, and honor, and iiprightness as a man. I believe he was especially regarded as both a firm and a mild man in the exercise of authority ; and I have observed more than once, in this and in other popular governments, that the prevalent motive Avith the masses of mankind for conferring high honors on individuals is a confidence in their mildness, their paternal, protecting, pru- dent and safe character." This was well said. Every word is in harmony with the popular appreciation of Gen- eral Taylor; and there are doubtless many living in Mexico, as well as in his own country, who would respond to the sentiment. The soldier who could pause in the midst of such a day as that of Buena Vista to arrest the tide of slaughter, when slaughter was self pre- servation, with the deed of mercy Ave have recorded, must be entitled to no 168 ZACHART TAYLOR. common meed of praise on the ground of humanity. But something more was added by liis eminent euh)gist. "I suppose," said Mr. Webster, " tliat no case ever hai)pened, in the very best days of tlic Roman republic, when a man found himself clothed with the higlu'st authority in the state under circumstances more repelling all suspi- cion of j)ersonal apj)lication, of pur- suing any crooked path in politics, or of having been actuated by sinister views and purposes, than in the case of this worthy, and eminent, and distin- guished, and good man."* The circumstance that Mr. Webster was himself a candidate before the Whig convention, which nominated General Taylor for the Presidency, adds Aveight to these assertions. Mr. Cass was the opjiosing democratic candidate. The vote of the electors was one hun- dred and sixty-three to one hundred and twenty-seven. Of the qualities of his short admi- nistration of the office, let a member of the party Opposed to his election speak. The late Senator Benton says : " His brief career showed no deficiency of political wisdom for want of previous ' Komarka in the Senate on the death of General Tay- lor. — Webster's Works, p. 409.. political training. He came into the administration at a time of great difli- culty, and acted tip to the enici-gency of his position. . . . His death was a public calamity. No man could have been more devoted to the Union, or more opposed to the slavery agitation ; and his position as a Southern man, and a slaveholder — his militaiy repu- tation and his election l)y a majority of the people and of the States — would have given him a power in the settle- ment of these questions which no Pre- sident without these qualifications could have possessed. In the political di\n- sion he classed with the Whig party ; but his administration, as far as it went, was applauded by the democracy, and promised to be so to the end of his offi- cial term. Dying at the head of the government, a national lamentation be- wailed his departure from life and power, and embalmed his memory in the affections of his country." * General Taylor died at Washington, at the Presidential mansion, July 9, 1850, of a fever contracted by exposure to the intense heat of the sun, in attend- ance upon the ceremonies of the Day of Independence. ' Benton's Thirty Tears' View, IT. J65-«. < //-/'M. //r«edition to Ja- pan in the following year, arc events which will be more lasting in their con- sequences than many battles which have tilled, for the time, a larger space in the public attention. Mr. Fillmoiv's term of office closed in the spring of 1853. The following year he made a tour in the South, wliere ho was well received, and in 1855 visited Euroi)e to i-eturn in season for the Pre- sidential canvass of 185G. He was i)ut forward in that election as a medium candiilate of the American {)arty, lie- tween the nominee of the Democratic party, ]\Ir. Buchanan, and Colonel Fre- mont, of the lu'iiublican. In such a contest there was little strength to be wasted by the two great divisions which swallowed up the rest. Mr. Fillmore received the vote only of the single State of ^laryland. Since that i)eriod ^Mr. Fillmore has not been before the jniblic as a candi- date for office. He has continued to reside in the western pai't of the State of New York. ^^^zc^ FRANKLIN PIERCE. Franklin Peeeoe, the fourteenth Pre- sident of the United States, was bom at Hillsborough, in the State of New Hampshire, November 23, 1804. His father, Benjamin Pierce, a native of Massachusetts, with many other spirited youths, entered the Revolutionary army at the summons of Lexington, served through the war with credit, and re- tiring with the rank of captain, a year or two after peace was declared, became the purchaser of a plot of fifty acres in the present town of Hillsborough, then a rough clearing in the wilderness. There he built a log-house and settled down to the clearing of the land, his second wife, to whom he was united in 1789, becoming the mother of the sub- ject of this sketch who was the sixth of her eight children. The captain of the Revolution meanwhile attracted the attention of the people of the region, was made brigade major on the organi- zation of the militia of the county; in 1789 was elected a member of the House ©f Representatives at Concord, continuing to serve in that capacity for thirteen years till he was chosen a member of the Governor's Council. An eminent member of the Democratic party, he was an ardent supporter of the war of 1812, sending two of his sons to the army. He rose to be Gover- nor of New Hampshire in 182Y, and was again elected to that office in 1829. He subsequently lived in retirement, leaving the world in 1839, at the venerable age of eighty-one. The peo- ple of New Hampshire have not yet forgotten the shrewd sense and kindli- ness, the unaifected democratic princi- ples, of the honest, cheerful old soldier of the Revolution and Governor of the State. It is to his memory, doubt- less, supported by the popular traits of character inherited from him, that his son has been indebted for much of his advancement. Franklin had good opportunities of education. He was early sent to the neighboring academies at Hancock and Francestown, enjoying at the latter the advantages of a residence with the family of an old friend of his father, Peter Woodbury, whose son. Judge Woodbury, became afterward so emi- nent in public afi'airs. Young Pierce, who was of a warmhearted, susceptible nature, was much impressed by the superior mind and character of the lady of this household, the mother of Judge Woodbury. Indeed he appears in his boyhood to have won the kindness of those around him by his frank, inge- nuous disposition. He was admitted to Bowdoin college in 1820. It is to 176 176 FRANKLIN TIERCE. the credit of young Pierce as a collegian tlij^t, having fallen into some indiffe- rence during the first years of his course, he more than regained his posi- tion in the upper classes, graduating with credit in 1824. It is a fact worth mentioning, though, as his biographer remarks, by no means unusual in the history of the rise of New England statesmen, that in one of the winter va- cations Franklin Pierce took a tui'n at school-keeping. His college instruction being com- pleted, he began the study of the laAV as a profession in the oflice of Judge iVoodbury, of Portsmouth, the son of his father's old friend, then Governor of tlie State, and soon afterward greatly distinguished at Washington as Speaker and senator, and member of the cabinet of Jackson. After a year with this eminent jurist, Mr. Pierce completed his studies in the law school at Northamj)- ton and the office of the Hon. Edmund Parker, at Amherst. He was admitted to the bar in 1827, and opened an office opposite to his father's house at Hills- borough. His success, though he had the advantage of the family popularity, was not very decided at the outset. His biographer, indeed, speaks of his first case as a decided foihu'e. He had not yet learned the full command of his resoiu-ces. It was hia fortune to make his position at the bar good by steady eff'ort. Politics, meanwhile, offered him a ready resource, as his father had just been elected Governor. Democratic sentiments were gaining the ascendenc}' under the influence of Jack- son, and to this cause young Pierce de- voted himself In 1829, and for three successive years, he was elected to the legislature of his State, as representa- tive of Hillsborough, filling in 1832 and 1833 the office of Speaker. In the last year he was chosen a member of Con- gress, taking his seat in the House of Re- presentatives at Washington, in Decem- ber. He was again elected and served a second term. He was of course a steady, unflinching supporter of the administra- tion, for the democratic rule of those days admitted no other — not a frequent, or long, or elocpieut speaker, but a zeal- ous, persistent committee man, giving his vote for the measures of his chief, seconding the ^-iews of the South, and, a decided man generally in his party relations. In 1837 he left the House of Repre- sentatives for the Senate of the United States, where he was the youngest member of that body. His term of ser- vice embraced the whole of IMr. Van Buren's administration and a portion of that of his successor, during which his services to his party were resolute and unintermitted. They were not for- gotten Avhen an opportunity subse- quently arose to confer upon him the highest reward. He retired fi-om pub- lic life at the end of the peiiod for which he was elected, haAnng his resi- dence now at Concord, in his native State. He had been for some time married to a daughter of the Rev. Dr. Appleton, once President of Bowdoin; his father was now dead; and his do- mestic aftaii's required his care at home. Thither he retired to devote himself as- siduously to his profession. His suc- cess was immediately assured, his prac- tice at the bar yielding him a very FRANKLIN PIERCE. 177 handsome income. In proof of his con- tentment and the sincerity of his wishes for retirement, he declined in 1845 an appointment by the Governor to the United States Senate to fill the place vacated by Judge Woodbury, and a proffer by the Democracy of his State of a nomination as Governor; refusinar also in the following year a seat in the cabinet of President Polk as Attorney- General. He held meanwhile the post, at home, of District Attorney of New Hampshire. His reluctance to engage in public life at Washington partly proceeded from his professional duties in his own State and partly from the health of his wife, to which the climate of the seat of government was unfavorable. In his letter to President Polk, dated Septem- ber 6, 1846, declining the position of Attorney-General, he made use of this expression : " When I resigned my seat in the senate in 1842, I did it with the fixed purpose never again to be volun- tarily sejiarated from my family, for any considerable length of time, except at the call of my country in time of •war." The reservation, lookincr to the date, was not without its significance. General Taylor had in May fought the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, and it was evident that more serious struggles, which would call out a new military force, were impending. Congress was slow to admit the neces- sity in making provision for the addi- tional force, but when the time came and the bill creating ten new regiments was passed, Franklin Pierce was looked to and created by the President a brigadier-general, his commission being 23 dated March 3, 1847. He had pre- viously enrolled his name on the first list of volunteers at Concord as a pri- vate soldier. He considered his accep- tance of the duty a fulfillment of his pledge on taking leave of the Senate, The old military spirit of two wars in which his father and brothers had taken part again lived in the family. The brigade of which he was placed in command consisted of twenty-five hundred men, composed of the ninth regiment of New England ers, the twelfth from the south-western States, and the fifteenth from the north and west. They were to assemble at Vera Cruz, and join the forces of General Scott on his march to the capital. General Pierce sailed from Newport on the 27th of May, with a portion of the New Eng- land regiment; the voyage was calm and consequently long; biingingthe pas- sengers to the rendezvous at the most unhealthy season of the year. As the vomito then prevailed at Vera Cruz, the prospect of landing new recraits was anything but a happy one. It was the work before the new general, how- ever, and he courageously faced it. The portions of his Diary published by his biographer, show the full extent of the difiiculties which he encountered, and which were met by him vdth manly resolution. Avoiding the city, he sta- tioned his men on an extensive sand beach in the vicinity, where they would at least have the benefit of a free circu- lation of air. It was the be2:inningr of July, and no means were at hand to exjjedite the departure for the interior. A large number of wild mules had been collected, but, inferior as they were for 178 FRANKLIN TIERCE. purposes of transportation, they were so ill provided with proper attendants that most of them broke a^^■ay in a stam- pede. "The Mexicans fully believe," is the language of the journal of June 2S, •' that most of my command must die of vomito before I can be prepared to march into the interior," A delay of but a day or two was expected ; it was now running into weeks. Then he records the services of Major Woods, a West Point officer " of great intelli- gence, experience, and coolness, who kindly consented to act as my adjutant- general." There is a serious case of vomito in the camp. Captain Duff, who is sent to the hospital in the city. At length, after three weeks on the shore, the advance is sent off, and a few days after the general himself follows. It is not an easy road to travel. The great battles of the prcN-ious expeditions had cleared the road of extensive fortifica- tions, but left it free to be assailed by straggling pju-ties of guerillas, of whom General Pierce and his men are to have a taste as they carry their train of men and munitions to the main army at Puebla. He Avas twice attacked on the route, on leaving San Juan, when both sides of the road were beset by the Mexicans, and again at the National Bridge, where a formidable effort was made to arrest his progress. The ene- my had erected a bairicade at the bridge, and manned a tomporar}'' breast- work on a hit'h commandinii: bluff above. General Pierce, looking around for means of annoyance to cover his advance, found a position for several pieces of cannon, but the main advan- tage was gained by a portion of his command in charging the defences at the bridge and gaining the enemy's works from the rear. In this encrage- ment, which seems to have been well managed in securing the speedy retreat of the Mexicans, General Pierce was under fire, and received an escopette ball through the rim of his liat, without, however, other damage, as he adds in his journal, " than leaving my head for a short time without protection from the sun." The train thus relieved ad- vanced to the Plan del Rio, where the bridge, a work of the old Spaniards, was found to be destroyed. Its main arch, a span of about sixty feet, was bloAvn up. Below yawned a gulf of a hundred feet. The bank in the neigh- borhood a])peared impassable for ^va- gons. In this emergency General Pierce called upon one of his New England officers, Captain Bodfish, of the Nintli Infantry, who " had been eng;iged for many years in the lumber business, and accustomed to the construction of roads in the wild and mountainous districts of Maine, and was, withal, a man not lightly to be checked by slight ol> stacles in the accomplishment of an en- • terprise." This enterprising officer had by no means the resources of Maine at his command, for there was no timber in the vicinity ; but the road was con- structed, nevertheless, and the train passed in safety over it. After this there Avere no extraordinary difficulties to be overcome, and General Pierce, on the seventh of August, reached the head quarters of General Scott at Puebla, with his brigade, which, after undergo- ing some changes on the way at Perote, consisted of some tweuty-foui' hundred FRANKLIN PIERCE. 179 men. The guerillas who infested his path had not succeeded in captuiing a single wagon. With this reenforcement General Scott immediately began his advance to the valley of Mexico. In the first action, that at the heights of Contreras, where the enemy's works, having been approached with difficulty, were suc- cessfully stormed with great gallantry, General Pierce was in command at the outset in the attack upon the front of the intrenchments. It was a duty of peculiar toil and hazard. The ground, the famous pedregal, was a broken, rocky surface, impracticable for cavaliy and harassing for infantry. General Pierce was the only mounted officer in the brigade, and, as he -was pressing to the head of his column, after addressiuo- the colonels and captains of his regi- ment as they passed by him, his horse slipped among the rocks and fell, crush- ing his rider in the fall. This was the first of a series of disasters which weighed heavily upon General Pierce through the remainder of the brief cam- paign, but which his energy and spirit enabled him in a considerable measure to overcome. He was at first stunned by the fall with the horse, but recover- ing his consciousness, was hm-ried on in the battle, having been assisted to a seat in the saddle. When told that he would not be able to keep his seat, " Then," said he, " you must tie me on." He lay that night writhing in pain from his wounded knee, on an ammu- nition wagon, to be mounted again the next morning, the decisive day at Con- treras, and was enabled to hold his position and lead his brigade in pur- suit. In the course of this duty he was summoned to the commander-in-chief, who perceived at once his shattered condition. "Pierce, my dear fellow," said the veteran kindly, " you are badly injured; you are not fit to be in the saddle." " Yes, general, I am," replied Pierce, "in a case like this." "You cannot touch your foot to the stirrup," said Scott. " One of them I can," an- swered Pierce. The general, says the authentic narrative before us, looked again at Pierce's almost disabled figure, and seemed on the point of taking his irrevocable resolution. " You are rash, General Pierce," said he; "we shall lose you, and we cannot spare you. It is my duty to order you back to St. Aii- gustin." "For God's sake, general," exclaimed Pierce, "don't say that! This is the last great battle, and I must lead my brigade !" The commander-in- chief made no further remonstrance, but gave the order for Pierce to ad- vance with his brigade. The sequel may best be told in his biographer, Mr. Hawthorne's, interesting narrative. " The way lay through thick, standing corn, and over marshy ground, inter- cepted with ditches, which were filled, or partially so, with water. Over some of the narrower of these Pierce leaped his horse. When the brigade had ad- vanced about a mile, however, it found itself impeded by a ditch ten or twelve feet wide, and six or eight feet deep. It being impossible to leap it. General Pierce was lifted from his saddle, and in some incomprehensible way, hurt as he was, contrived to wade or scramble across this obstacle, leaving his horse on the hither side. The troops were 180 FRANKLIN PIERCE. now under fire. In the excitement of the battle he forgot his injury and hur- ried forwai-d, leading; the brigade a dis- tance of two or three hundred yards. But the exhaustion of his frame, and partii'ularly the anguish of his knee — made more intolerable by such free use of it — was greater than any strength of nerve, or any degree of mental energy could struggle against. lie fell, faint and almost insensible, within full range of the enemy's fire. It was proposed to bear him off the field; but, as some of his soldiers approached to lift him, ho became aware of their purpose, and was jiartially revived liy his determina- tion to resist it. " No," said he, with all the strength he had left, "don't enny me oft' ! let me lie here !" And there he lay wider the tremendous fire of Cherubusco, until the enemy, in total rout, was di'iven from the field." In the negotiations which immediately en- sued, General Pierce was honored by the commander-in-chief Avith the ap- pointment of one of the commissioners to arrange the terms of the armistice. Jaded and worn out as he Avas, having been two nights without sleep and un- able to move without assistance, he at- tended to this duty before seeking repose. In the subsequent action of the cam- paign, at the battle of Molino del Rey, he rendered an important service to General Worth at the close of that bloody fight, in interposing to receive the fii-e of the enemy, and, the victory having been gained, occupied the field. He would have been prominently engaged in the sequel to this battle, the storming of Chapultepec, l>ut he had now become 80 ill as to be compelled to seek relief at the head-quaj-ters of General Worth, where he remained when this conclud- ing action of the war was fou^rht. lie rose, however, from his sick couch to report himself to General Quitman, ready to take part in the final a<5sault upon the city ; l)ut this perilous duty was happily spared him by the timely capitulation. On his return to the United States at the close of 1847, General Pierce having resigned his commission at Washington, was received at Concord, in his native State, with the utmost en- thusiasm. Welcomed to the toAvn hall in a complimentary speech by General Low, he replied in an address of great propriety, skillfully turning the occasion to the praises of his comrades in the war. He spoke of the New England regiment in general, of its sacrifices and deeds of honor, and particularly of the brave men who had tallen on the field. He also paid a well-deserved compli- ment to the oflicers furnished to the war by the Military Academy at West Point, a tribute which came Avith more emphasis from his lips, as in former days in Congress he had opjiosed the usual annual appropriation for that in- stitution. In recognition of his services, he was shortly after presented with a sword by the legislatui-e of New Hamjv shire. General Pierce now passed into re- tirement and was again engaged in the practice of his profession. He took pai't, however, in the political affixirs of his party, particularly in the canvass of 1848 when General Cass was a can- didate for the Presidency. The Demo- cratic party then suft'ered a defeat, but FRANKLIN PIERCE. 181 rallied again for action in 1852, when General Pierce was put in nomination for that liigh office. Previously to this election his position was strengthened in New Hampshire by his election as President of the convention for the re- vision of the State constitution, and as the time for the choice of a new Presi- dent of the Union approached he was put forward by the democracy of the State as a suitable candidate. The nominating convention of his party met at Balti- more in Juue, 1852 ; there was some difficulty in deciding uj^on a candidate, and several days had passed in the dis- cussion,when General Pierce was brought forward by the Virginia delegation on the thirty-sixth ballot. His strength continued to increase as the contest was carried on, till, on the forty-ninth bal- lot, he received two hundi'ed and eighty- two out of the two hundred and ninety- three votes cast. In the election which followed, he was chosen over General Scott, the candidate of the Whig party, by a popular majority of two hundred and three thousand, three hundred and six, their joint votes being two millions, nine hundred and eighty-nine thousand, four hundred and eighty-four. He had the electoral votes of all the States ex- cepting Vermont, Massachusetts, Ken- tucky and Tennessee. The Presidential administration of General Pierce from 1853 to 1857 when he was succeeded by James Bu- chanan, was an interval of comparative repose, marked by no extraordinary events of foreign or domestic policy vnth the exception of the revival of the slavery agitation in the passage of the Kansas and Nebraska Teni- torial act in 1854, setting aside the geographical limit imposed by the compromise of 1850. In the late Go- vernor Marcy, President Pierce had the services of a Secretary of State of eminent ability, who conducted the foreign affairs of the government with firmness and discretion. Among the home incidents of the time may be mentioned the erection of a Crystal Palace at New York, follomng the ex ample of the previous great fair at Lon- don, for the exhibition of the industry of all nations. This undertaking, which was brilliantly carried out, was inaugu rated by President Pierce in July, 1853, shortly after the commencement of his administration. After the close of his Presidential term. General Pierce visited the island of Madeira and made a prolonged tour in Europe. On his return to America, he again took up his residence in his old home at Concord, New Hampshire. JAMES BUCHANAN. The fotlier of James Buolian.an, the fifteenth President of the United States, was a native of the county of Donegal, in the north of Ireland, who emigrated to the United States in 1783, the year which closed the War of the Revolu- tion with the declaration of peace. He came to America a poor man, like thou- sands of others, to establish himself on what was then, as it is in many districts still, the virgin soil of the New World. Making his home in Pennsylvania, he there mairied Miss Elizabeth Spear, the daughter of a respectable farmer of Adams County. With her he set out for Franklin County, on the borders of Maryland, then a partially cultivated region, Ijuilt a log hut, and made a clearing at a spot in the mountains in the vicinity of the town of Mercersburg. At this place, called Stony Batter, James Buchanan, the futui'e President, was born April 23, 1V91. When he was seven years old, his parents remov- ed to Mercerslnirg. Being well infonu- ed, and apj)reciating the advantages of a good education, they here carefully provided for their son's instruction. The father had profited by his English schooling, and the mother, we are told, was distinguished by her strong sense and a certain taste for literature, being able to repeat from memory striking passages in Pope, Cowjier, Milton, and other English poets. Her piety is also spoken of as a noticeable trait of her cha- racter.^ At the age of fourteen, James was sufficiently instructed in English studies, and the elements of the Greek and Latin classics, to enter Dickinson College at Carlisle. There he proved a ready student, acquitted himself with credit, and took a leading part in the literary society connected with the col- lege. After receiving his degree,in 1809, he began the study, of the law with INIr. James Hopkins of Lancaster, and three years afterwai'ds, on arriving at ago, Avas admitted to the bar. He applied him- self with diligence to the profession, at Lancaster, and early acquired a lucia- tive jiractice. In a letter Avritten more than thirty years afterwards, when he had risen to the position of Secretaiy of State, he recalled the occasion of his first public speech. It was when in the war with Great Britain, Maryland had Ijeen invaded, the capital burnt at Washington, and Baltimore was threat- ened. The country was aroused, and Mr. Buchanan addressed his fellow-citi- zens at Lancaster, urging upon them the duty of volunteering their ser\ ices to resist the foe. A volunteer company ' IIortoQ's Life of Bucbanan, p. Ifi. 183 Y/>?^^£^ .&!ffr/7ved,7y ; ^^^^'i'^.i^ V ^ssessicfft^ £?/■" ZCJ07zttre^Si/. JcxhiiaaTi.'HY ( ii . "New YoTlt JAMES BUCHAXAN. 183 was formed on the spot ; he enlisted in it as a private, and proceeded with it to Baltimore, where, the danger having passed over, it was discharged. He lit- tle thought that half a century after- wards the region would again be arous- ed in a similar manner by the approach of a domestic foe, in a civil conflict of which his own administration, while he was President of the United States, was first to feel the shock. In this same year, 1814, Mr. Buchanan made his first entrance on political life, at the age of twenty-three, when he was elected a member of the Pennsylvania Legisla- ture. On taking his seat he became an active supporter of the war measures then in progress, counselling stringent means of defence, and advocating a loan to the General Government to pay the militia of the State called into the pub- lic service. In 1820, Mr. Buchanan took his seat in the House of Representatives, and continued a member by successive re- elections for ten years. This period embraced many important public mea- sures, in which he took a prominent part. He was opposed to a tariff for protection, and to a general bankrupt law; when John Quincy Adams was elected, he f)pposed his favorite project of the Panama mission, and gave his zealous support to the advancement of General Jackson. On that chieftain's election to the Presidency, which was promoted by his influence in Pennsyl- vania, he was placed at the head of the Judiciary committee, and was one of the five managers chosen by the House 1»o conduct the prosecution of Judge James 11. Peck, of the District Court of the United States for Missouri, against whom articles of impeachment were passed for an undue exercise of authority, in silencing and imprisoning a lawyer in his court, who had presumed to criticise one of his decisions. Judge Peck was defended before the Senate by William Wirt and Jonathan Meri- deth. The case was closed by Mr. Buchanan. The result was the pas- sage of a law calculated to prevent a recurrence of the offence. In 1831, Mr. Buchanan received the appointment from President Jackson of Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Ple- nipotentiary to St. Petersburg, and suc- ceeded in the object of his mission in securing a valuable commercial ti-eaty, o|>ening to our merchants important piivileges in the Russian waters. On his return, in 1833, he was elected to the United States Senate, where he rendered important partisan services to the administration of General Jackson, then closely pressed in that body by a comVjination of its greatest political leaders, Clay, Calhoun, and Webster He was always opposed to the agitation of the subject of slavery in Congress, regarding the discussion of the topic at the North as alike injurious to the pros- pects of the slave and the integrity of the Union. These were his views when the right of petition brought the dis- cussion before Congress, and he remain ed steadily on the side of the South in all matters of this nature, where the in- stitution was concerned. An ardent supporter of President Jackson, he, of course, gave his influence in favor of the expunging resolutions of Senator Benton, which crowned the long list of 184 JAMES BUCHANAN. Congressiou.ll triumpLs of tlio retiring Presiileut. To the mlininistration of bis successor, IMr. \'an liiuen, ^Ir. Ru- chnnau gave ini])ortant aid in his advo- cacy of the cstaMishnient of an inde- pendent treasury, and when tliat niea- svire >vas tonijiorarily set aside under the presidency of General Harrison and Tyler, he ^vas urgent in his efforts to defeat the banks, or fiscal institutions, j)roposed in its place. On all the test questions of the Democratic party, Mr. Buchanan preserved political consist- ency. With one, in paiticidar, he espe- cially identified himself — the Annexa- tion of Te.xas. He was for immediate action on its first introduction into the Senate, and when it was afterwards adopted, at the close of Tyler's admin- istration, he stood aUme in the commit- tee on foreifju relations in favor of the measure. Mr. Polk succeeded to the Presidency in 1845, when ^Ir. Buchanan was called to his cabinet as Secretary of State. It was an imjwrtant era in the foreign lelations of the country, when the office was no sinecure. The North-Avestern Boundary question was to be settled w ith England, and on the South-west- ern frontier another ditliculty of no ordinary magnitude existed, in the threatened conflict with Mexico. The former was settled on a compromise basis, adopting the i)arallel of lati- tude of 49° instead of the ultra de- mand, insisted upon by certain mem- bers of the l)arty, and advocated in an elaborate state paper Ijy Mi-. Buchanan himself, of 54° 40'. The Government, in fact, had become pledged to the lat- ter, but (hf tlifliculty was solved by re- ferring the matter to the Senate, Avhere the compromise line was accepted. The Mexican question was of graver resjioji- sibility. It Avas met by the administra- tion as a war measure, and by the spirit and energy of the army of the ctiuntry, and the volunteers called to the field, was successfully earned through, Avhile efforts were constantly made to bring the contest to an end by negotiations for peace. When the enemy was tho- roughly humbled, and his caj)ital gained possession of, the latter finally prevail- ■ ed. It is to the credit of om- govern- ment that the war was conducted in no sanguinar}- spirit of cnielty, and that its terms of reconciliation, though they proved in the end highly advantageous to the victors, were, all tilings con>sid- ered neither exacting nor humiliatinsr to the conquered. To the war Avith Mexico succeeded the political struggle at home on the slavery question, growing out of the new increase of ten-itorj-. Mr. Bucha- nan, at the close of Mr. Polk's presi- dency and the breaking up of the cabi- net, had retired to his home in Pennsyl- vania, in the neighborhood of Lancas- ter. Though out of office, however, his interest in politics was not diminished. When the contest over the Wilmot Pro- viso came up, setting bounds to the ex- tension of slavery, he opposed its j)rin- ciples, and in his " Harvest-Home Let- ter," as it was called, recommended as a settlement the basis of the act of 1820, and that the Missouri line be extended to tlie Pacific. When the Compromise Measures of 18.50 Avere adoj^ted, he gave them his ajtproval, urging in a let- ter which he addressed to a political JAMES BUCHANAN. 185 committee in Philadelphia, " as the de- liberate conviction of his judgment, the observance of two things as necessary to preserve the Union from danger : first, that agitation in the North on the subject of southern slavery must be re- buked and put down by a strong and enlightened public opinion ; and, second, that the Fugitive Slave Law must be en- forced in its spiiit." There is a passage in this letter of interest in relation to subsequent events and the futui'e posi- tion of the writer. "I now say," he \vi'ote, " that the platform of our blessed Union is strong enough and broad enough to sustain all true-hearted Ame- ricans. It is an elevated — it is a glori- ous platform, on which the down-trod- den nations of the earth gaze with hope and desire, witli admiration and aston- ishment. Our Union is tlie star of the West, whose genial and steadily increas- ing influence will at last, should we re- main an united people, dispel the gloom of despotism from the ancient nations of the world. Its moral power will prove to be more potent than millions of armed mercenaries. And shall this glorious star set in darkness before it has accomplished half its mission ? Heaven forbid ! Let us all exclaim with the heroic Jackson, 'The Union must and shall be preserved.' " And what a Union has this been ! The histoiy of the human race presents no parallel to it. The bit of striped bunting which was to be swept from the ocean by a British navy, according to the predictions of a British states- man, previous to the war of 1812, is now displayed on every sea, and in every port of the habitable globe. Our 24 glorious stars and stripes, the flag of our country, now protects Americans in every clime. ' I am a Roman citizen !' was once the proud exclamation which eveiywhere shielded an ancient Roman fiom insult and injustice. 'I am an American citizen!' is now an exclama- tion of almost equal potency throughout the civilized world. This is a tribute due to the power and resom-ces of these thirty-one United States. In a just cause, we may defy the world in arms. We have lately presented a spectacle which has astonished the greatest cap- tain of the age. At the call of their country, an irresistible host of armed men, and men, too, skilled in the use of arms, sprung up like the soldiers of Cadmus, from the mountains and val- leys of our confederacy. The strug- gle among them was not who should remain at liome, but who should enjoy the privilege of enduring the dangers and privations of a foreign war in de- fence of their country's rights. Heaven forbid that the question of slavery should ever prove to be the stone thrown into their midst by Cadmus, to make them turn their arms against each other, and die in mutual conflict. " The common sufferings and com- mon glories of the past, the prosperity of the present, and the brilliant hopes of the future, must impress every patri- otic heart with deep love and devotion for the Union. Who that is now a citi- zen of this vast Republic, extending from the St. Lawrence to the Rio Grande, and from the Atlantic to the Pacific, does not shudder at the idea of being transformed into a citizen of one of it« broken, jealous and hostile frag- 1S6 JAMES BUCHANAN. ments? What patriot haJ not rather shed the last drop of his blood, than see the thirty-one brilliant stars that now float j)roudly upon his country's flag, rudely torn from the national banner, and scattered in confusion over the face of the earth ? "Rest assured that all the patriotic emotions of every true-heai'ted Pennsyl- vanian, in fovor of the Union and Con- stitution, are shared by the southern people. What battle-field has not been illustrated by their gallant deeds ; and when, in our history, have they ever shrunk from sacrifices and suft'erings in the cause of their country? What, then, means the muttering thunder which we hear from the South ? The signs of the times are truly poi'tentous. Whilst many in the South openly ad- vocate the cause of secession and disun- ion, a large majority, as I firmly believe, still fondly cling to the Union, await- ing with deep anxiety the action of the North on the compromise lately eftected in Confess. Should this be disrejjard- ed and nullified by the citizens of the North, the southern people may become united, and then farewell, a long fare- well to our blessed Union. I am no alarmist ; but a brave and wise man looks danger steadily in the face. This is the best means of avoidine: it. I am deei^ly impressed with the conviction that the North neither sufficiently un- derstands nor appreciates the danger." Mr. Buchanan lived in comparative retirement at his Lancaster home till, on Mr. Pierce being chosen President, he was, in 1853, appointed minister to England. He accepted the post, and was occupied, in the course of its du- ties, in a negotiation of the Central American question, and also, incident- ally, in a discussion respecting the pos- session of the island of Cuba. The lat ter, known as the Ostend Conference, grew out of the design of tlie President to purchase the island if possible, from Spain, and for this purpose a consulta- tion was had in Euroj)e between the American Ministers to Spain, France, and England, who might aid the under- taking by mutual counsel. The history of this proceeding is thus given in the recent notice of President Buchanan in " Ajipleton's Cyclopedia." " Ostend was first selected for the place of meeting ; but the conferences were subsequently adjourned to Aix la Chapelle. The American Ministers kept Avi-itten min- utes of their proceedings, and of the conclusions arrived at, for the purpose of future reference, and for the infoi'ma- tion of their government at home. These minutes were afterwards styled a ' protocol,' though they contained no- thins but memoranda to be forwarded for consideration to the authorities in Washington. They were not intended to be submitted to a foreign power. They contained no proposition, laid down no lade of action, and in no man- ner whatever interfered w^ith our regu- lar diplomatic intercourse. The Presi- dent desired to know the opinions of our Ministers abroad on a subject which deeply concerned the United States, and the Iklinisters were bound to furnish it to him. Their minutes exhibited the importance of the island to the United States, in a commercial and strategical point of view; the advantages that would accrue to Spain from the sale of JAMES BUCHANAN. 187 it at a fair price, such as the United States might be willing to pay for it ; the diflSculty which Spam would en- counter in endeavoring to keep posses- sion of it by mei-e military power ; the sympathy of the people of the United States with the inhabitants of the island, and, finally, the possibility that Spain, as a last resort, might endeavor to Afri- canize Cuba, and become instrumental in the reenacting of the scenes of St. Domingo. The American Ministers be- lieved that in case Cuba was about to be transformed into another St. Do- mingo, the example might act pernici- ously on the slave population of the Southern States of our own confederacy, and there excite the blacks to similar deeds of violence. In this case, they held that the instinct of self-preserva- tion would call for the armed interven- tion of the United States, and we should be justified in wi-esting the island by force from Spain." Mr. Buchanan returned home in the spring of 1856, and in the following summer received the nomination for the Presidency from the Democratic con- vention which met at Cincinnati. In the contest which ensued with Colonel Fremont, the candidate of the new Re- publican party, he was elected Presi- dent of the United States by the vote of nineteen out of thirty-one States. The popular vote was, for Buchanan, 1,803,029; for Fremont, 1,342,164; for Fillmore, 874,625. The main interest of Mr. Buchanan's administration cen- tered in the discussion of the control of the territories in reference to the intro- duction of slavery. The ominous agi- tations regarding Kansas, itself the the- atre of bloody conflict, employed much of this period. At the close of Mr. Bu- chanan's term, the clouds which had been gath^png since its commencement broke in the storm of war. The elec- tion of his successor, Mr. Lincoln, the candidate of the Rejiublican party, was followed by secession in the Southern States, and there was no weaj^on in the hands of Mr. Buchanan powerful enough to arrest the rebellion. lie spoke en- treatingly, persuasively, in favor of the preservation of the Union; but the South, whose interests he had so long served, was deaf to his appeals. His concluding annual message, at the opening of Congress in December, 1860, was full of despondency, the con- sciously vain effort of a disappointed statesman to resist the overwhelminsr tide which was approaching. The South had placed itself in an attitude of threatened opposition to the inaugura- tion of President Lincoln. President Buchanan, with a certain simplicity, re- minded the disaffected that " the elec- tion of any one of our fellow-citizens to the office of President, does not of itself afford just cause for dissolving the Union ;" adding, " this is more especially true if his election has been efl^ected by a mere plurality, and not a majority of the people, and has resulted from tran- sient and temporary causes which may probably never again occur. In order to justify a resort to revolutionary re- sistance, the Federal Government must be guilty of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of powers not grant- ed l)y the Constitution. The late Pre- sidential election, however, has been held in strict conformity with its ex- 188 JAMES BUCHANAN. press provisions. How, then, can the result justify a revolution to destroy this very Constitution? lleason, jus- tice, a regard for the Conlflitution, all require that we shall wait for some overt and dangerous act on the part of the President elect, hefore resorting to such a remedy. * * After all, he is no more than the chief executive officer of the government. His province is not to make, but to execute the laws ; and it is a remarkable foct in our history that, notwithstanding the repeated ef- forts of the anti-slaveiy party, no single act has ever passed Congress, unless we may possibly except the Missouri Com- promise, impairing in the slightest de- gree the rights of the South to their property in slaves. And it may also be observed, judging from present indi- cations, that no ])robability exists of the passage of such aii act by a majority of both Houses, either in the present or the next Congress. Surely, under these circumstances, we ought to be restrained from present action l)y the prece2)t of Him who spake as never man s])ake, that ' sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.' The day of evil may never come, unless we shall rashly l)ring it upon ourselves." After presenting other considerations showini' how little dan- ger there really existed for apprehen- sion on the part of the South, he turned to an examination of the doctrine of Se- cession as it was openly advocated by a large class of disaffected politicians. " In order," said he, " to justify secession as a Constitutional remedy, it must be on the priucii>le that the Federal droveru- meiit is a mere voluntary association of States, to be disolved at pleasure by any one of the contracting parties. If this be so, the confederacy is a rope of sand, to be penetrated and dissf)lved by the first adveree wave of public opinion in any of the States. In this manner our thirty-three States may resolve themselves into so many petty, jarring, and hostile republics, each one retii-ing from the Union without responsiV)ility, whenever any sudden excitement might impel them to such a course. By this process, a Union might l>e entirely bro- ken into fi'agments in a few weeks, which cost our forefiithers many years of toil, privation, and blood to establish." He further supported the obvious doctrine of the paramount authority of the Union by references to the opinions of Madison and Jackson, and a deduction from the express provisions of the Con- stitution. "This Government," he con- cluded, "is a great and powerful Gov ernment, invested with all the attributes of sovereignty over the special subjects to Avhich its authority extends. Its framers never intended to implant in its bosom the seeds of its own destruction, nor were they at its creation guilty of the absurdity of providing for its own dissolution. It was not intended by its framers to be the baseless fabric of a vision which, at the touch of the en- chanter, would vanish into thin air ; but a substantial and mighty fabric, cajia- ble of resisting the slow decay of time, and of defying the storms of ages. In- deed, well may the jealous patriots of that day have indulged fears that a government of such high powers might violate the reserved rights of the States, and wisely did they adopt the rule of a strict construction of these powers to JAMES BUCHANAN. 189 prevent tlie danger. But they did not fear, nor had they any reason to ima- gine, that the Constitution would ever be so interpreted as to enable any State, by her own act, and without the consent of her sister States, to discharge her people from all or any of their Fed- eral obligations. It may be asked, then, are the people of the States with- out redress against the tyranny and oppression of the Federal Government ? By no means. The right of resistance on the part of the governed against the opj^ression of their governments cannot be denied. It exists independently of all constitutions, and has been exercised at all periods of the world's histoiy. Under it old governments have been destroyed, and new ones have taken their place. It is embodied in strong and exjiress language in our own Decla- ration of Independence. But the dis. tinction must ever be observed, that this is revolution against estal)lished government, and not a voluntary seces- sion from it by virtue of an inherent constitutional right. In short, let us look the danger fairly in the fece : seces- sion is neither more nor less than revo. lution. It may or it may not be a jus- tifiable revolution, but still it is revolu- tion." Having' thus established the lecral in- ability of a State to withdraw from the confederacy at will, he proceeded to dis- cuss the " responsibility and ti*ue posi- tion of the Executive" under the cir- cumstances. His duty was, according to the words of his oath, " to take care that the laws be feithfully executed." The administration of justice by the Federal judiciary naturally first present- ed itself; but in South Carolina he found this was now impracticable. The officers of justice in that State had re- signed, the whole machinery of the courts had been broken up, and " it would be difficult, if not impossil)le, to replace it." The revenue, indeed, still continued to be collected in the State, and as for the public property in the forts, magazines, arsenals, etc., the belief was expressed that n-o attempt would be made to expel the United States from its possession ; " but if in this I should prove to be mistaken," said the President, " the officer in command of the forts has received orders to act strictly on the defensive. In such a contin- gency, the responsibility for conse- quences would rightfully rest upon the heads of the assailants." The mere mention of such points was ominous of war, and the President per ceived the tendency. He felt the diffi culties of his situation and submitted them to Congress. In doing this, how- ever, he added to his argument against secession another, denying to that body the possession of any power under the Constitution "to coerce a State into submission which is attempting to with- draw, or has actually withdrawn from the confederacy." His conclusion on this subject was this : — " The power to make war against a State is at variance with the whole spirit and intent of the Constitution. Suppose (he added), such a war should result in the conquest of a State, how are we to govern it afterwards 1 Shall we hold it as a province, and govern it by despotic power ? . . . The fact is, that our Union rests upon public opinion and 190 JAMES BUCHAIfAN. can never be cemented by the blood of its citizens shed in civil war. If it cannot live in the atloctious of the people, it must one day perish. Con- gress possesses many means of preserv- ing it by conciliation ; but the sword was not placed in their hands to pre- serve it by force." As an escape fi'om this threatened evil of secession, President Buchanan recommended that an amendment of the Constitution should be adopted, initia- ted either by Congress or the State Le- gislatures, according to the provisions of that instnunent, " contined to the final settlement of the true construction of the Constitution on three special points : — 1st. An express recognition of the right of property in slaves in the States where it now exists or may here- after exist. 2d. The duty of protecting this right in all the common Territories throughout their territorial existence, and until they shall be admitted as States into the Union, with or without slavery, as their Constitutions may pre- scribe, 3d. A like recognition of the right of the master to have his slave, who has escaped from one State to an- ther, restored and ' delivered up ' to him, and of the validity of the Fugitive Slave Law enacted for this purpose, together with a declaration that all State laws impairing or defeating this right are violations of the Constitution, anil are conseqxieutly null and void." Such was the attitude of President Buchanan in sight of the impending re- volution, and such the suggestions which he made to resist its progress. The cri- sis which had arrived, beyond the con- trol of palliatives, was destined to shat- ter his political creed. Beset with doubts and difficulties, but true to the plain duty before him, he incurred the censure of the Commis- sioners sent to "Washington from South Carolina, by his resistance to their de- mand of the withdrawal of i^Iajor An- derson and his command from Fort Sumter. The war which he feared was now inevitable, and preparations, at last, were to be made to meet it. Deserted by his old Southern friends in Con- gress, and even in his cabinet, President Buchanan summoned to his aid new counsellors like Scott, Dix, Stanton, Holt, and others whose patriotism re- deemed the last days of his administra- tion. In weakness, sorrow, almost in despair of the future of his country, he assisted at the inauguration of his suc- cessor, and left Washington for the re- tirement of his home in Pennsylvania. There his days were passed in com- parative seclusion during the four years of the national warf!U"e for the preser- vation of the L^nion, while his leisure was employed in the preparation of a work, a re\ iew of the rise and j)rogress of the anti-slavery agitation and a vin- dication of the conduct of his adminis- tration of the Presidency. Under the new order of affaii"s which followed the successful termination of the wai", the publication of this book attracted little attention. He did not long survive. Af ter a brief illness he met death with Christian resignation at Wheatland, on the morning of the first day of June, 18GS. His funeral at Lancaster was largely attended, without distinction of party, and the usual public honoi-s were paid to his memory. ABRAHAM LINCOLiN. Abraham Lincoln was born Feb- ruary 12tli, 1809, in a district of Har- din County, now included in Lraue County, Kentucky. His father and grandfather, spning ft'om a Quaker family in Pennsylvania, were bom in Kockingham County, Virginia. Thence the grandfather, Abraham Lincoln, re- moved to Kentucky, where, encounter- ing the fortunes of the first settlers, he was slain by the Indians, about the year 1784. His third and youngest son, Thomas, brought up to a life of rude country industry, in 1806 mamed Nancy Hanks, of Kentucky, a native of Virgin- ia, so that the blood of Abraham Lin- coln is directly traceable to the Old Do- minion — the mother of Presidents. The parents, it is said, partly on account of slavery, partly on account of the disputed Kentucky land titles, removed to a new forest home, in what J3 now Spencer County, Indiana, when their son Abraham was in his eighth year. The task before the settlers was the clearing of the farm in the wilder- ness; and in this labor and its inci- dents of hunting and agriciiltural toils the rugged boy grew up to manhood, receiving such elementary instruction as the occasional schoolmasters of the region afforded. Taken altogether, it was very little — for the time which he attended schools of any kind, was in the whole.less than a year. His know- ledge fi'om books was to be worked out solely by himself; the vigorous life around him and rough experience were to teach him the rest. His first adven- ture in the world was at the age of nineteen, when hired as an assistant to a son of the owner, the two, without other aid, navigated a flat boat to New Orleans, trading by the way — an ex- cursion on which more might be learnt of human nature than in a year at col- lege. At twenty-one, he followed his father, who had now married a second time, to a new settlement in Macon County, Illinois, where a log cabin was built by the family, and the land fenced in by rails, vigorously and abundantly split by the stalwart Abraham. The rail-splitter of Illinois was yet to be summoned to a fiercer conflict. To build a flat-boat was no great change of occupation for one so familiar with the axe. He was engaged in this work on the Sangamon River, and in taking the craft afterward to New Orleans, serving on his return as clerk in charge of a store and mill at New Salem, be- longing to his employer. The breaking out of the Black-Hawk war in Illinois, 1832, gave him new and more in spirited occupation. He joined a vo- 191 192 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. liinteor company, was elected captain, Ben-ed through a throe months' cam- paign, ami was in due time rewarded by his share of bounty lands in Iowa. A popular man in his neighborhood, doubtless from his energy, sagacity, humor, and innate benevolence of dis- position, admirably qualifying him as a representative of the West, or of human nature in its better condition anywhere, he was, on retm-n from the war, set up as a Whig candidate for the Legisla- ture, in which he was beaten in the district, though his own precinct, demo- cratic as it too was, gave him 277 out of 284 votes. Unsettled, and on the lookout for occupation in the worhl, he now again fell in charge of a country store at New Salem, over the counter of which he gained knowledge of men, but little pecuniaiy profit. The store, in fiict, was a failure, but the man was not He had doubtless chopped logic, as heretofore timber, with his neigh- bors, and democrats had felt the edge of his argument. Some confidence of this nature led him to think of the law as a profession. Working out his jtrob- lem of self-education, he would borrow a few books from a la^\'J*er of the vil- lage in the evening, read them at night, and return them in the morning. A turn at official sm-veying in the county meanwhile, by its emoluments, assisted him to live. In 1834, he was elected, l)y a large vote to the Legisla- ture, and again in 1836, '38, and '40. In 1836, he was admitted to the bar, and the following year commenced practice at Springfield, with his fellow- representative in the Legislature, Major John F. Stuart. He rapidly accpiired a reputation by his success in jury trials, in which he cleared up difiicul- ties with a sagacious, ready humor, and a large and growing stock of apj)osito familiar illustrations. Politics and the bar, as usual in the West, in his case also went together; a staunch sup- porter of Whig j)rinciples in the midst of the democracy, he canvassed the State for Henry Clay in 1844, making numerous speeches of signal ability, and in 1846, was elected to Congress from the central district of Illinois. During his term he was distinguished by his advocac)' of free soil ]>rinciple9, voting in favor of the right of petition, and steadily supporting the Wilmot proviso prohibiting slavery in the new territories. He also proposed a plan of compensated emanci])ation, with the consent of a majority of the owners, for the District of Columbia. A member of the Whig National Convention of 1848, he suj)ported the nomination of General Taylor for the Presidency, in an active canvass of Illinois and In- diana. In 1856, he was recommended by the Illinois delegation as a candidate for the Vice Presidency, on the Repub- lican ticket with Colonel Fremont. In 1858, he was nominated as candidate for United States Senator in opposition to Stej)hen A. Douglas, and " took the stump " in joint debate ^y\t]l that pow- erful antagonist of the Democratic ])arty, delivering a series of speeches during the summer and autumn, in the chief towns and cities of the State. In the first of these addresses to the Re- publican State Convention at Spring- field, June 17 th, he uttered a me- morable declaration on the subject ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 193 of slavery, much quoted in the stirnng conti'Dversies which afterwards ensued. " We are now," said he, " far into the fiCtli year since a policy was initiated with the avowed oljject, and confident promise of putting an end to slavery agitations. Under the operation of that policy, that agitation has not only not ceased, hut has constantly augmented. In my opinion, it will not cease until a crisis shall have been reached and passed. 'A house divided against itself cannot stand.' I believe this govern- ment cannot endure pemianently, half slave and half free. I do not e.xpect the Union to be dissolved — I do not expect the house io fall ; but I do expect it will cease to be divided. It will be- come all one thing or all the other." Other opinions expressed by him in this political campaign, while they ex- hibited him as no friend to slavery, placed him on the ground of a constitu- tional opposition to the institution. In answer to a series of questions pro- posed by Mr. Douglas, he replied that he was not in favor of the unconditional repeal of the fugitive slave law; that he was not pledged against the admis- sion of any more slave States into the Union, nor to the admission of a new State into the Union with such a con- stitution as the people of that State may see fit to make, nor to the abo- lition of slavery in the District of Columbia, nor to the prohibition of the slave trade between the different States; while he was "impliedly, if not ex- pressly, pledged to a belief in the right and duty of Congress to prohibit slavery in all the United States Terri- tories." With regard to the acquisition of any new tenitory, unless slavery ia first prohibited therein, he answered: " I am not generally o]>posed to honest acquisition of teiritoiy ; and in any given case, I would or would not op- pose such acquisition, accordingly as I might think it would or would not aggravate the slavery question among ourselves." Mr. Lincoln, in fine, while he held the firmest o]>iiiion3 on the evil of slavery as an institution, and its detriment to the prosperity of the country, was not disj)osed to transcend the principles or pledges of the Consti- tution for its suppression. He would not, without regard to circumstances, press even the legitimate powers of Congress. Of the vexed negro question, he said further, on a particular occa- sion in those debates : " I have no pur- pose, directly or indirectly, to interfere with the institution of slavery in the States where it now exists. I believe I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so. I have no pui-pose to introduce political and social equality between the white and the black races. There is a physical difi^erence between the two, which, in my judgment, will probably forever forbid their living together upon the footing of jteifect equality, and inas- much as 'it becomes a necessity that there must be a dift'erence, I, as well as Judge Douglas, am in favor of the race to which I Ijelong having the superior position. I have never said anything to the contrary ; but I hold that, not- withstanding all this, there is no reason in the world why the negro is not en titled to all the natural rights enu merated in the Declaration of lude- 104 ABPxAlIAM LINCOLN. pomlonoe— the right to life, libeity, and the pursuit of hnppinoss. I hokl that he is as luuch entitlod to those as the white man. 1 agree with Judge Doughis he is not my ecjual in many resj)eets — certainly not in color, per- liaps not in moral or intellectual en- dowment. But in the right to eat the bread, without the leave of any one else, which his own hand earns, he is my equal, and the equal of Judge Douglas, and the equal of eveiy living man." This contested Douglas and Lincoln election in Illinois ended in the choice of a Li'gislature which sent the former to the Uniteil States Senate, though the Republican candidates pledged to ]\Ir. Lincoln received a larger aggregate vote. Mr. IJncoln, now a prominent man in the West, was looked to by the rapidly developing Republican party as a lead- ing expounder of its princi)>lcs in that i-egion. In the autunui and wintt oui-s. To justify it, you must sho^v that our policy gives you just cause for such desperate action. Can you do that? When you attempt it, you will find that our policy is exactly the policy of the men who made the Union. Nothing more and nothing less. Do you really think you are justified to break up the government rather than have it administered as it was by Washing- ton, and other great and good men who made it, and first administered it I If you do, you are very unreasonable, and more reasonable men cannot and will not submit to you. While you elect Presidents we submit, neither break- ing nor attempting to break u]> the Union. If we shall constitutionally elect a President, it will be our duty to see that you also submit. Old John Brown has been executed for trejisou against a State. We cannot object, even though he agreed with us in thinking slavery wrong. That cannot excuse violence, bloodshed, and trea- son. It coidd avail him nothing that he might think himself right. So, if constitutitmally we elect a President, and, therefore, you undertake to de- stroy the Union, it will be our dixty to deal with you as old John Brown has been dealt with. We shall try to do our duty. We hope and believe that in no section will a majority so act as to render such extreme measures neces- sary." In the ensuing nomination, in ISOO, for the Presidency, by the National Republican Convention at Chicago, Mr. Lincoln, on the third ballot, was pre- ftiretl to Mr. Seward I'y a decided ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 195 vote, and placed before the countiy as tlie candidate of tlie Republican free- soil party. He had three rivals in the field: Breckinridge, representing the old Southern pro-slavery Democratic party; Douglas, its new, "popular sovereignty" modification; Bell, a res- pectable, cautious conservatism. In the election, of the entire popular vote, 4,062,170, Mr. Lincoln received 1,857,- 610; Mr. Douglas, 1,365,976; Mr. Breckinridge, 847,953; and Mr. Bell, 590,631. Every free State except New Jersey, where the vote was divided, voted for Lincoln, giving him seventeen out of the thirty-three States which then composed the Union. In nine of the slave States, besides South Carolina, 1)6 had no electoral ticket. Alabama, Arkansas, Delaware, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mai-yland, Mississipj^i, North and South Carolina, Texas, cast their votes for Breckinridy all who were ac(|uainted with him, that a man of singular plainness and sincerity of char- acter had been chosen for the chief magistracy. " He is possessed," wrote an intelligent ol)serverwlio had studied his disposition in his home in Illinois, " of all the elements composing a true western man, and his purity of charac- ter and indubitable integrity of purpose add resj)ect to admiration for his j)ri- vate and i)ublic life. His vrord 'you may believe and pawn your soul upon it.' It is this sterling honesty (with utter fearlessness) even beyond his vast ability and political sagacity, that is to command confidence in his administra- tion." In February, 1861, Mr. Lincoln left his home at S])ringfield, on his way, by a circuitous route through the northern States, to Washington. His journey at the start Avas impressed with the pecu- liar resjionsibility of his new position. A defeated party, supported by the haughty pretensions and demands of the South, which even then stood in an attitude of armed rebellion, was deter- mined to place eveiy olxstacle in his way which the malignity of disap- pointed political ambition could sug- gest. He felt that a crisis was at hand requiring the most consummate piu- dence and })olitical wisdom in the guid- ance of the Ship of State. In taking farewell of his friends at the railway station, at Springfield, he said Avith fer- vor, " no one not in my position can ai)preciate the sadness I feel at this parting. To this people I owe all that I am. Here I have lived more than a quarter of a centuiy ; here my children Avere born, and here one of them lies buried. I know not how soon I shall see you again. A duty devolves upon me which is, perhaps, greater than that ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 197 whicli Las devolved upon any other man since the days of Washington. He never would have succeeded except for the aid of Divine Providence, upon which he at all times relied. I feel that [ cannot succeed without the same Divine aid which sustained him ; and in the same Almighty Being I place my reliance for support, and I hope you, my friends, will all pray that I may receive that Divine assistance, without which I cannot succeed, V)ut with which success is certain. Again I bid you all an affectionate farewell." With this feeling of religious earnest- ness, Mr. Lincoln, who did not over- estimate the importance of his position^ set his face towards Washington. At every stage on the journey he took the opportunity, when he was called upon to speak, by the citizens, to express his determination to use his influence and authority equitably for the interests of the nation, without infringement on the rights of any. " We mean to treat you," he said at Cincinnati, to an au- dience in which, we may suppose, the Democratic party was liberally repre- sented, " as near as we possibly can as Washington, Jefferson, and Madison treated you. We mean to leave you alone, and in no way to interfere with your institutions ; to abide by all and every compromise of the Constitution, and in a word, coming back to the original proposition ; to treat you so far as degenerate men, if we have dege- nerated, may, according to the example of those noble fathers, Washington, Jefterson, and Madison." On the same day, the 12th of February, in another speech at Indianapolis, he alluded to the question then pressing upon the country for early solution regarding the maintenance of the national autho- rity in a rebellious State, by force, if it should be necessary. An outcry had been raised against the " coercion " of a State? He saw in the clamor, a specious mask favoring a desperate political intrigue which threatened the life of the nation, and he sought to strip off" the disguise that the reality beneath might be seen. Would it he " coercion," he asked, if the United States should retake its own forts, and collect the duties on foreign importations. Do those who would resist coercion resist this ? " If so their idea of the means to preserve the object of their great affection would seem to be exceedingly thin and airy. If sick, the little pills of the homceopathist would be much too large for them to swallow. In their view, the Union, as a family relation, would seem to be no regular maniage. but rather a sort of free love arrange- ment, to be maintained on passional attraction." Eveiywhere on his journey he was received with enthusiasm. At New York he was greeted by the Mayor and citizens at the City Hall ; and at Phila- delphia, on Washington's birthday, he assisted in raising the national flag on Independence Hall. In a few remarks on the latter occasion, he spoke feel- ingly, with a certain impression of me. lancholy, of the great American prin- ciple at stake, promising to the world " that in due time, the weight should be lifted from the shoulders of all men ;" adding, " if the country cannot be saved without giving up that priu- 198 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. ciplo, I was ahoiit to say, I would rather ])0 assassinated on this spot than surrender it." The word " assassination " was aftenvards noticed when, a day or two hitor, it was found that the Pi-esi- dent, warned of a plot to take his life on Lis way to Washington, had felt compelled, by the advice of his friends, to hasten his journey l>y an extra train at night, to the capital, and thus baflle the consj)irators. lie had been made acquainted with the scheme on his ar- rival at Philadelphia, by the police; and it was after this intimation had been received by him that he spoke at Independence Hall. lie then pro- ceeded to keep an appointment with the Pennsylvania Legislature, at ITar- risburg, whom he met on the after- noon of the same day. At night he quietly returned by rail to Philadel- phiji, and thence to Washington, an'iv- ing there early on the morning of the twenty-third. Ten days after, his inauguration as President took place at the Capitol. The usual ceremonies were observed ; but in addition. General Scott had pro- vided a trained military force which was at hand to sui>press any attemj)t which might be made to interrapt them. Happily its interference was not called for. The inaugural address of the President was every way conside- rate and conservative. He renewed the declarations he had already made, that he had no intention to interfere with the institution of slavery in the States where it exists, adding, " I be- lieve I have no lawful right to do so, and I have no inclination to do so." In a brief argument he asserted the perpetuity of the Union. " It is safe to assert," he said, " that no govern- ment proper ever had a provision in its organic law for its own termination. Continue to execute all the express jirovisions of our national Constitution, and the Union will endure forever, it being impossible to destroy it, except by some action not provided for in the instnunent itself" He therefore an- nounced his intention, as in duty bound by the terms of his oath, to maintain it. " I shall take care," said he, " as the Constitution itself expressly enjoins upon me, that the laws of the Union shall be foithfully executed in all the States. Doing this, which I deem to be only a simple duty on my part, I shall perfectly perform it, so far as is practicable, unless my rightful masters, the American people, shall withhold the requisition, or in some authorita- tive manner direct the contrary. I trust this will not be ree^arded as a menace, but only as the declared pur- pose of the Union, that it will consti- tutionally defend and maintain itself. In doing this there iieed be no blood- shetl or violence, and there shall be none unless it is forced upon the na- tional authority. The power confided to me will be used to hold, occupy and possess the property and places belong- ing to the Government, and collect the duties and imposts ; but beyond what may be necessary for these objects there will be no invasion, no using of force against or among the people anywhere. Where hostility to the United States shall be so great and sp universal as to prevent competent resident citizens fi-om holding the federal offices, there ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 199 will be no attempt to force obnoxious strangers among the people who object. While the strict legal right may exist of the Government to enforce the ex- ercise of the offices, the attempt to do BO would be so in-itating, and so nearly impracticable withal, that I deem it better to forego for the time the uses of such offices. The mails, unless re- pelled, will continue to be furnished in all parts of the Union. So far as pos- sible, the people everywhere shall have that sense of perfect security, which is most favorable to calm thought and reflection. The course here indicated will be followed, unless current events and experience shall show a modifica- tion or change to be projjer, and in every case and exigency my best discretion will be exercised according to the circumstances actually existing, and with a view and hope of a peaceful solution of the national troubles and the restoration of fraternal sympathies and afifections." This disposition to effect a peaceful settlement of the existing difficulty Avas further shown in an earnest expostula- tion or plea for the preservation of the endangered Union, and the admission or declaration that " if a change in the Constitution to secure this result should be thought desirable by the people, he would favor, rather than oppose a fair opportunity to act upon it." He had no objection, he said, that a proposed amendment introduced into Congress " to the effect that the Federal Govern- ment shall never interfere with the domestic institutions of States, includ- ing that of persons held to service," should be made " express and utcvo- cable." " My countrymen," he concluded, " my countiymen, one and all, think calmly and well upon this whole sub- ject. Nothing valuable can be lost by taking time. K there be an object to huiTy any of you, in hot haste, to a step which you would never take deli- berately, that object mil be frustrated by taking time; but no good object can be fnistrated by it. Such of you as are now dissatisfied still have the old Constitution unimpaired, and on the sensitive point the laws of your own framing under it ; while the new ad- ministration wiU have no immediate power, if it would, to change either. If it were admitted that you who are dis- satisfied hold the right side in the dis- pute, there is stiU no single reason for precipitate action. Intelligence, patriot- ism, Christianity, and a firm reliance on Him who has never yet forsaken this favored land, are stiU competent to adjust, in the best way, all our present difficulties. In your hands, my dis- satisfied fellow-countrymen, and not in mine, is the momentous issue of civil war. The Government will not assail you. You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You have no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the Government ; while I shah have the most solemn one to ' pre- serve, protect, and defend' it. I am loath to close. We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affec- tion. The mystic chords of memory, 200 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. stretching from every battle-field and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." In this spirit, the President commen- ced his administration. In the folh^Aving month the bombardment of Fort Sumter, by the South Carolinians under General Beauregard, " inaugurated" the war. On receipt of the news of its fall. President Lincoln, on the 15th of April, issued his proclamation calling for seventy-five thousand militia, to suppress the combi- nations opposing the laws of the United States, and commanding the persons composing the combinations to disperse, and retire peaceably to their respective abodes within twenty days. Congress was, at the same time, summoned to meet in extra session on the ensuing -ith of July. When that body met, the Southern Confederacy had succeeded in arraying large armies in the field for the accomplishment of its revolutionaiy de- sisrns. Various skirmishes and minor battles had occurred in Missouri, West- ern Virginia, and elsewhere, and the troops which had been raised at the North were about to meet the enemy in the disastrous battle of Bull Run. Tlie President laid the coui'se which he had pursued before Congress, calling upon them for " the legal means to make the contest a short and decisive one." He felt, he said, that he had no moral right to shrink from the issue, though it wiis " with the deepest regret that he had found the duty of employing the war- power." " Having," he said, in the con- clusion of his message, " chosen our course without guile and with pure purposo kt us renew our trust in God, and go for- ward without fear and witli manly hearts. The stoiy of the conduct of that struggle through four years of unexam- ])led sacrifices by the people, of unf)re- cedented trials to the State, of a contro- versy of arms and principles testing every fibre of the nation, and ending in the vindication and reestablishment of the Union, belongs to Histoiy rather than to Biography. But the part borne in the stmggle by President Lincoln will ever be memorable. He was emphati- cally the representative of the popular will and loyal spirit of the nation. In his nature eminently a friend of peace, without personal hostilities or sectional prejudices, he patiently sought the wel- fare of the whole. Accepting war as aa inevitable necessity he conducted it with vigor, yet with an evident desire to smooth its asperities and prepare the way for final and fi'iendly reconciliation. Unhappily, the demands of the South for independence, and their continued stru£rt;le for the severance of the Union, rendered any settlement short of abso- lute conquest of the armies in the field impossible. To hasten this end, Avhen the condition appeared inevitable. Pre- sident Lincoln, after many delays and warnings, issued a proclamation of negro emancipation within the rebellious States, on the twenty-second of Septem ber, 18G2. It was appointed to go into effect — the States continuing in rebellion — on the first of January ensuing. " All persons," it declared, " held as slaves \vithin any State, or designated part of a State, the people whereof shall then be in rebellion against the United States, shall be thenceforward and forever free ; and the Executive Government of the ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 201 United States, including the military and naval authority thereof, will recog- nize and maintain the freedom of such persons, and will do no act or acts to repress such pei'sons, or any of them, in any efforts they may make for their actual freedom." This proclamation, in general accordance with the action of the Congress, was a war measru-e ; it had grown out of the war as a necessity, was promulgated conditionally with an appeal for the termination of the war, and, if destined to be operative, was de- pendent upon military success for its efficiency. The war, it was generally admitted, if continued, would put an end to slavery ; and as the slave passed under new social relations by the advance of the national armies, by con- quest, by services rendered to the na- tional cause, and finally by enlistment in the national armies, this became every day more apparent. The President's proclamation, the great act of his Admi- nistration, proved the declaration of an obvious and inevitable result. Two years more of war, after it was issued, of war growing in malignity and inten- sity, and extending through new regions, confii-med its necessity ; while President Lincoln, as the end drew nigh, sought to strengthen the fact of emancipation by recommending to Congress and the people, as an independent measiu*e, the passage of an amendment of the Consti- tution, finally abolishing the institution of slavery in the United States. President Lincoln, as we have said, in his conduct of the war, steadily sought the sujiport of the people. Lideed, his measui'es were fully in accordance with their conviction, his i-esolutions, waiting the slow development of events, being 26 governed more by facts than theories. He thus became emphatically the execu- tive of the national will ; his course wisely guided by a single view for the maintenance of the Union was in accord ance with the popular judgment ; and in consequence, as the expiration of his term of ofiice approached, it became evident that he would be chosen by the people for a second term of the Presidency. As the canvass proceeded the result was hard- ly regarded as doubtful, and the actual election in Nov., 1864, confij-med the an- ticipation. Out of 25 States, in which the vote was taken he received a majority of the popular vote of 23 — Delaware, Ken- tucky, and New Jersey for McClellan.. President Lincoln's second Inaugural Addi'ess on the 4th of March, 1865, was one of his most characteristic State pa- pers. It was a remarkable expression of his personal feelings, his modesty and equanimity, his humble reliance on a superior power for light and guidance in the path of duty. Success in his great career, the evident approach of the national triumph, in which he was to share, generated in his mind no vulgar feeling of elation ; on the contrary he was impressed, if possible, with a weigh- tier sense of responsibility and a deeper religious obligation. " With malice to- ward none, " was his memorable lan- guage, " with charity for all, with firm- ness in the right — as God gives us to see the right — let us strive on to finish the work we are in — to bind up the nation's wounds — to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and orphans — to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and last- ing peace among ourselves, and with all nations." The peace so ardently longed 202 ABRAHAM LINCOLN. for was not far distant. On the 9tli of April Geuenil Lee surrendered the chief rebel army to General Grant, and with that event the war was virtually ended. President Lincoln had been witness of Boine of its closiuir scenes at Richmond, and had returned to Washington in time to receive at the capital news of the suiTcnder. In an address to a ga- thering of the people who came to the Presidential mansion to congratulate him on the result, he avoided any iinseemly expressions of triumph, and turned his thoughts calmly to the great problem of reconstruction, upon which his mind was now fully intent. At the close he de- clared, in view of some act of ainnci^ty overtiu'es of reconciliation, that it might 800U be his duty " to make some new announcement to the people of the South." This speech was made on the evening of the eleventh of A])ril. The fourteenth was the anniversary of Sum- ter, completing the four years' period of the war. There was no particular ob- servance of the day at Washington, but in the evening the President, accompa- nied by his wife, a daughter of Senator Harris, and Major Rathbone, of the United States army, attended by invi- tation the performances at Ford's The- atre, where a large audience was assem- bled to greet him. When the play had reached the third act, about nine o'clock, as the President was sittinif at the front of the private box near the stage, he v/as deliberately shot fi-om behind by an as- sassin, John Wilkes Booth, the leader of a gang of conspirators, who had been for some time intent, in concert with the re- bellion, upon taking his life. The ball entered the back part of the President's head, penetrated the brain, and rendered him, on the instant, totally insensible. lie was removed by his friends to a house opposite the theatre, lingered in a state of unconsciousness durin^f the nijjht and expu'cd at twenty-two minutes pa.st seven o'clock on the morning of the ir)th. Thus fell, cruelly mui-dered by a vul- gar assassin, at the moment of national victory, with his mind intent uj)on the hajipier future of the Republic, with thoughts of kindness and I'ecouciliation toward the vanquished enemies of the State, the President who had just been placed by the sober judgment of the people a second time as their represent- ative in the seat of executive authority. The blow was a fearful one. It created in the mind of the nation a feeling of horror and pity, which was witnessed in the firmest resolves and tenderest sense of commiseration. All parties throughout the loyal States united in demonstrations of respect and affection. Acts of mourning were spontaneous and universal. Business was everyAvhere suspended, while the people assembled to express their admiration and love of the President so foully slain, and to devote themselves anew to the cause — their own cause — for the assertion of which he had been stricken down. When the funeral took place, the long proces- sion, as it took its way from Washington thi'ough Pennsylvania, New York, Ohio and Indiana, to the President's home in Illinois was attended, at eyery step, with unprecedented funeral honors ; orations were delivered in the large cities, crowds of mourners by night and day witnessed the solemn passage of the train on the long lines of railway ; a half million of persons it was estimated, kxjked iipon the face of their departed President and friend. I I '/J-C/'T^^ ANDREW JOHNSON. Among the many public men in tlie United States who have risen to dis- tinction fi'om humble circumstances by industry and natural force of character, Andrew Johnson of Tennessee, by for- tune and position, is certainly not the least noticeable. Born of poor parents, in Ralefgh, North Carolina, December 29th, 1808, he was apprenticed in his boyhood to a tailor, and was engaged in this occupation in South Carolina till the age of seventeen. He subse- quently crossed the mountains border- ing his State on the west, travelling, it is said, on foot vnth his wife, and es- tablished himself at Greenville, Ten- nessee. Pursuing there a life of indus- try, working out, meanwhile, by his own exertions the problem of educa- tion — for he had never attended school — he prospered in the world, and hav- ing a disjjosition to public life, with a talent for speaking, he soon became known as a politician. He was elected Mayor of Greenville in 1830, was chosen a member of the State Legisla- ture in 1835, and of the State Senate in 1841. For ten years, from 1843 to 1853, he represented his district in the national House of Representatives ; in the last-mentioned year being elected Governor of the State of Tennessee, and again in 1855. In 1857, crowning this rapid series of honorable political promotions, he took his seat as United States Senator for the full term ending in 1863. A man of the people, he represented in the Senate the strongly-nurtured democratic energy and instincts of the West, identifying himself Avith its well- fare, distinguishing himself particularly by his advocacy of the Homestead Bill, which opened the unsettled territory virtually to free occupancy by the settler. It was not to be supposed that such a man, the representative of the free mountain region of East Ten- nessee, where his home lay, would have much sympathy with the great Southern Rebellion. On the contrary, he was, in his seat in the Senate, one of the foremost to oppose its first mani- festations. In that memorable session, in the closing months of President Buchanan's administration, when the Southern members were abandoning their posts, preparatory to their work of treason, he stood unmoved, strenu- ously opposing eveiy exhibition of dis- loyalty, and calling resolutely on all to maintain the Constitution and the integrity of the Union as the secure and only basis of popular rights. His course was known and marked by the disloyal in his own State and else- 203 204 ANDREW JOHNSON. where. The mob of Memphis, during this period, in proof of their luvstility, burnt his effigy, and at the close of tVe session he was directly insulted and threatened with violence at the railway station, at Lynchburg, Vir- giniii, while on his way homeward from "\Vashinort of their common country, and " crush, destroy, and totally annihilate " the spirit of secession, as an influence utterly hostile to all religious, moral, or social organization. " It is," said he, " disintegi-ation, universal dissolvement, making war upon everything that has a tendency to promote and ameliorate the condition of the mass of man- kind." In the extra session of Congress in July, he reiterated these sentiments in an eloquent speech in the Senate, char- acterizing the war upou which the country had entered as a struggle for the very existence of the Government against internal foes and traitors. " It is a contest," said he, " whether a peoj^le are capable of governing themselves oi not. We have reached that crisis in our country's history, and the time has arrived when, if the Government has the power, if the people are caj>a1ile of self-government, and can establisli this great trutli, that it should be done." Nothing discouraged by the recent disaster to the national army at Bull Hun, he exclaimed on this occa- sion, at the close of a masterly review of the political situation of the countrj"^, after calling on the Government to redi>uble its energies in the field, " "We must succeed. This Government must not, cannot fall. Though yonr flag may have trailed in the dust Irt it still be borne onward ; and if for the prose- cution of this war in behalf of the Government and the Constitution, it is necessaiy to cleanse and purify* the banner, let it be baptized in fire from the sun and bathed in a nation's blood. The nation must be redeemed; it must be triumphant." In the months which followed. Sena- tor Johnson rendered eminent ser\nce by his speeches and influence to the national cause. At length, in the spring of 1862, the Union victories in Tennessee having resulted in the mili- tary occupation of Nashville, his patriotism was rewarded by the ap- pointment, with the rank of brigadier- general of volunteei's, of military Gover- nor of Tennessee. He immediately, in March, 1802, entered upon the duties of this office, which he has continued to discharge, through many vicissitudes of public aliaiis, with firmness and discre- tion. ANDREW JOHNSON. 205 At tlie meeting of the National Con- vention of the Republican party, which assembled at Baltimore on the 7th of June, 1864, Andrew Johnson was no- minated for Vice President on the ticket with President Lincoln. The nomina- tion was well received by the party — for the principles and steadfastness of Governor Johnson had been fully tried in his private station and in office du- ring the war ; and the success of the ticket, as the canvass proceeded, was re- garded as a matter of certainty previously to the election in November. Simulta- neously with the inauguration of Presi- dent Lincoln, at his entrance on his se- cond term of office on the 4th of March 1865, the oath of office was administered to Vice-President Johnson, in the Senate Chamber. He remained in Washincjton, and was one of the eminent heads of the Government marked out by the assassin Booth and his fellow conspirators to ' be murdered at the development of their fiendish plot in April, on the anniversary, of the attack upon Fort Sumter. Nar- rowly escaping this fate by the timidity or reluctance of the person to whom his murder was assigned, he was, on the instant, at the immediate fatal termina- tion of the wound inflicted upon Presi- dent Lincoln, called to be his successor in office. Notified of this event, and sum- moned to the performance of his new duties by the members of the Cabinet, the oath of office as President was admi- nistei'ed to him by Chief Justice Chase, in the forenoon of the fourteenth of April, a few hours after President Lin- coln's decease, at his rooms at the Kirk- wood House, in "Washington. After re- ceiving the oath, and being declared President of the United States, Mr. Johnson remarked to the members of the Cabinet and others present : " I must be permitted to say that I have been almost overwhelmed by the an- nouncement of the sad event which has so recently occurred. I feel incompetent to perform duties so important and re- sponsible as those which have been so unexpectedly thrown upon me. As to an indication of any policy which may be pursued by me in the administration of the Government, I have to say that that must be left for development as the Administration progresses. The message or declaration must be made by the acts as they transpire. The only assurance that I can now give of the future ia reference to the past. The coui'se which I have taken in the past in connection with this rebellion must be regarded as a guarantee of the future. My past public life, which has been long and laborious, has been founded, as I in good conscience believe, upon a gi'eat principle of right, which lies at the. basis of all things. The best energies of my life have been spent in endeavoring to establish and pei'petuate the princi- ples of fi'ee Government, and I believe that the Government, in passing through its present perils, will settle down upon pi'incijiles consonant with popular right, more permanent and enduring than heretofore. I must be permitted to say, if I understand the feelings of my own heart, I have long labored to ameliorate and elevate the condition of the great mass of the American people. Toil, and an honest advocacy of the great princi- ples of free government, have been my lot. The duties have been mine — the 20G ANDREW JOHNSON. consequences are God's. This has been the foundation of my political creed. I feel that in the end the Government will triumph, and that these great principles will be permanently established. lu concluriion, gentlemen, let me say that I want your encouragement and counte- nance. I shall ask and rely upon you and others in carrying the Government thi-ough its present perils. I feel in making this I'equest that it will be heartily responded to by you and all other patriots and lovers of the rights and interest of a free people." At this moment, as an indication of his views, a recent speech of Johnson was recalled which he delivered in "Washington at the beginning of Apiil, when ne^vs of the capture of Richmond was received at the capital. " You must indulge me," said he on that oc- casion, " in making one single remark in connection with myself. At the time the traitors in the Senate of the United States plotted against the Government, and entered into a conspiracy more foul, more execrable and more odious than that of Cataline against the Romans, I happened to be a member of that body, and, as to loyalty, stood solitary and alone among the Senators from the Southern States. I was then and there called upon to know what I would do with such traitors, and I want to repeat my reply here. I said, if we had an Andrew Jackson he would hang them as high as Haman. But as he is no more, and sleeps in his grave in his own beloved State, where traitors and treason avo even insulted his tomb and the very earth that covers his remains, huTuble as I am, when you ask me Avhat I would do, my reply is, I would ai-rest them ; I would try them ; I would con> vict them, and I would hang them. As humble as I am and have been, I have pursued but one undeviating course. All that I have — life, limb and pro- perty — have been put at the disposal of the country in this great struggle. I have been in camp, I have been in the field, I have been everywhere where this great rebellion was ; I have pur- sued it until I believe I can now see its termination. Since the world began there never has been a rebellion of such gigantic proportions, so infamous in character, so diabolical in motive, so entirely disregardful of the laws of civilizeroperty enjoyed by white citizens, and guaran- teeing to the late slaves protection in their newly-acquired rights under the exclusive jurisdiction of the United States Courts. To this act President Johnson, among other things, objected the impolicy of immediately conferring citizenship upon the recently emanci- pated race, urging the discrimination in their favor against foreign residents, who were required to " undergo a pro- bation of five years," and especially the interference of the bill wath the peculiar rights and legislation of the several States concerned. The bill was passed in April over the veto in the Senate by a Republican vote of 33 against 15 — mainly Democratic, and in the House by 122 against 34. The adjustment of the Freedmen's Bureau Bill gave rise to other vetoes, the President, among other points, ob- jecting to the conflict of jurisdiction between the military tribunals of the bill and other constituted authorities. The bill abolishing the distinction of race or color in the elective franchise in the District of Columbia met with like opposition; so, too, the act pro\ading military government for the insurrec- tionary States, which, like the others, was passed over the President's veto. Thus the conflict went on between the executive and legislative departments of the Government, culminating in the passage, of course in like manner, over the President's veto, of the Tenure-of- Civil-Oflice Act, by which the power of removal of incumbents was taken away from the President, save on the terms of their original appointment " by and with the advice of the Senate." The 210 ANDREW JOHNSON. act was made ppocially a]>])licahlo to the iiK-inlHTS of the Cahiiiot, tin- Scoivtaries of State, of the Trea'sury, of War, of the Navy, and of the Interior, the Postmas- ter-General ami the Attorney(ieneral, whose term of otHce was continued, suh- ject to the control of the Senate, during the term of the President by whom they may liave l)een apjiointed. Under cer- tain eircumstanoes of alleged miscon- duct, or legal disqualification, or inca- pacity, the President might, during a recess of the Senate, suspend such of- ficer and appoint a temporary incumbent until the ciise should be acted upon by the Senate at its next meeting. This bill was passed by the requisite majori- ties in March, 18G7. The alleged vio- lation of this act formed the ground of several articles of the forniida])le " Im- peachment " of the President, brought by the House of Representatives exactly a year afterwards. In August, 1867, President Johnson suspended Secretary Stanton from oflice as Secretary of War, and appointed Gen. Grant as his suc- cessor cul interim. Stanton strongly protested, but yielded the office to Grant, who discharged its duties till, at their next meeting in January, the Senate refused to concur in Mr. Stan- ton's suspension, upon which Grant re- tired, thus reinstating Stanton in office, whilst President Johnson endeavored to prevent this result, appointing and seeking to establish Adjutant-General Thomas in the position. Stanton, how- ever, took and kept possession of the office till the failure of the inqjeachment, in May, induced his resignation. The Impeachment trial began in tlie Senate on the ;>(tth March, 1867, and terminated in a final vote on the 26th May, the question having been taken on only three of tin; articles of the eleven. The verdict was a close one, just failing the requisite two-thirds vote — 35 voting guilty, 19 not guilty, on the test articles. The Court then adjourned sine die. On the eve of retiring from the office of the Presidency, Johnson sent forth a farewell address " To the People of the United States," bearing date March 4, 1869, the day of the inauguration of his successor. The document went forth to the country, and was published in many of the newspapei-s simultaneously with the Inaugural Address of Gen. Grant. In this pajier President Johnson dwelt in his usual unhesitating manner upon his difficulties with Congress, and, in return for the " impeachment " which had been inflicted upon him, charged that body with a formidable array of grievances, the enumeration of which, as it fell from his pen, exhibited in the most striking light his utter alienation from that branch of the National Gov- ernment. With these and other bitter paiting words, President Johnson re- tired from office, and a few da}s after- wards left Washington for his old home in Tennessee. On his way at Balti- more and elsewhere, and on his arrival in his adopted State, he was received with distinguished attention by his friends and supporters, whom he ad- dressed in various speeches on the po- litical affairs of the day. ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT, TffE ancestry of General Grant is traced to an early Pilgi-im emigrant, Matthew Grant, who came to Massa- cliusetts with his wife, Priscilla from Dorsetshire England, in 1030. After a few years' residence at Dorcliester, having lost his wife, Matthew settled at Windsor, in Connecticut, where he became a man of consequence, and was a second time married. Ulysses Simpson Grant was the sev- enth in descent from this alliance. Members of the family served in the old Indian and French wars, and in the war for Independence, Noah, the grandfather of Ulysses, having entered the service at Lexington, and attained the rai& of captain. After the war was over, he was settled for a while in Pennsylvania, and subsequently estab- lished himself in a house in Ohio. His son, Jesse Root Grant, then in his child- hood, accompanied him, and after vari- ous youthful adventures, entered upon manhood with the occupation of a tan- At the age of twenty-seven he ner. married Hannah Simpson, and of this alliance was bom at the family resi- dence, Point Pleasant, Clermont County, Ohio, on the 27th of April, 1822, Ulys- ses Simpson Grant. This, however, was not the baptismal name of the rhild. He was christened Hiram Ulysses Grant, the first name apparently exhib- iting a trace of the ancestral Puritan associations of the family; the second, Ulysses, having been inspired by a no less classical authority than the Telern- achus of Fenelon, a stray copy of which had brought the fame of the Homeric hero to the homestead on the Ohio. We shall see presently by what accident the name was changed. The boy grew up in the Buckeye state, under the paternal training, accustomed to the industry of the tan-yard, and outside of the labors of this sturdy pursuit finding ready relief in the manly rural sports and adventures of Western life, with an especial zest for all that related to horsemanship. He became in fact so great an adept in riding, that he practised some of the daring feats of the ring. In such hardy pursuits Grant grew up a rather quiet, self reliant youth, and on his approach to manhood exhibited a spirit of inde pendence in an uncompromising disrel ish of the somewhat rougli toil of the tannery. On his rejecting this mode of life, his father, looking round for a pursuit for his son, the thought hap- pily occurred to him of a cadetship at West-Point. Accidentally there was a vacancy in the district, and an appli- cation to the representative in Congress (2U) 212 ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. secured it. The niemlier confounding the family names, sent in tlie applica- tion for Ulysses Simpson Grant. Under this name the apj)ointment was made out, and the authorities at the Military academy being iuditt'erent or unwilling to correct the error, the candidate was compelled to accept the designation. lie entered West-Point in 1839, at the age of seventeen, and graduated in due course in 1843, the twenty-first in a class of thirty nine. He had no great reputation in tlie academy as a student, though he displayed a taste for mathe- matics; while his general abilities and moral qualities were undoubted. The skill in horsemanship which he carried with him, distinguished him in the exercises of the riding school. His biographer, Albert D. Richardson, to whom we are indebted for many inter- esting personal notices of General Gi-ant, has recorded an anecdote of his profi- ciency in this accomplishment. " There was nothing," says he, "he could not ride. He commanded, sat, and jumjK'd a horse with singular ease and grace ; was seen to the best advantage when mounted and at a full gallop; could perform more feats than any other memV)er of his class, and was altogether one of the very best riders West-Point had ever known. " The noted horse of that whole re- gion, was a powerful, long-legged sor- rel, known as York. Grant and his classmate, Couts, were the only cadets who rode him at all, and Couts could not approach Grant, It was his de- light to jump York over the fifth bar, about five feet from the ground, and the best leap ever made at West-Point, something more than six feet, is still marked there as ' Grant's upon York.' York's way was to approach the bar at a gentle gallop, crouch like a cat, and fly over with rarest grace. One would see his fore feet high in the air, his heels rising as his fore feet fell, and then all four falling lightly together. It needed a firm seat, a steady hand, and a quick eye to keep upon the back of that flying steed. At the final ex- amination, his chief achievement was with his famous horse York. In pres- ence of the })oard of visitors he made the famous leap of six feet and two or three inches." Grant left West-Point with the bre- vet appointment of second lieutenant in the 4th Infantry, and presently joined his regiment at Jeflferson Bar- racks, St. Louis, INIissouri, where he became acquainted, and formed an at- tachment to the sister of one of his academy classmates, Miss Julia Dent, the lady who subsequently became his wife. This was the period of medi- tated Texas annexation, which under the influences of Southern political necessities was being steadily forced upon the country. Portions of the small national army were gradually concentrated on the Southern frontier. The regiment to which Grant was at. tached, was pushed forward in the movement, tarrying a year at Fort Jes- sup, on Red river, when it was sent to Corpus Christi, Texas, forming a part of General Taylor's araiy of obser- vation, Grant being now- promoted full second lieutenant, and in the spring of of 1846, reached the Rio Grande. It was a challenge to the IMexican forces on the right bank of the river, which they were not long in accepting. The ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 213 contest fairly began in May, with the battles of Palo Alto and Resaca de la Palma, in both of which actions Grant was actively engaged. He was also in the thick of the fight in the severe assault of Monterey, in Sej^tember. Shortly after the arrival of General Scott at Vera Cruz, in the beginning of the following year, Grant joined that commander, his regiment with others having been withdrawn from the forces of General Taylor, to take part in the expedition against the capital. He was with the army of Scott in the suc- cessive battles from Cerro Gordo, on- ward, which marked the victorious pro- gress to the City of Mexico, ever active in the field and as quartermaster, and was brevetted first lieutenant and cap- tain for gallant and meritorious conduct at Molino del Rej' and Chapultepec. The war being ended, Grant on a visit to St. Louis married his betrothed in Au^nist, 1848, and was subsequently stationed for two years with his regi- ment at Detroit, with a brief interval of service at Sackett's Harbor, dis- charging the duties of quartermaster. In 1852, his regiment was sent to the Pacific, and stationed in the vicinity of Portland, Oregon, where in 1853, he was promoted to a full captaincy. He was then ordered with his company to Fort Humbolt, in northern California. Here having been subjected to certain animadversions from "Washington, on the ground of intemperate drinking, on an intimation of the charge in the summer of 1854, he resigned his com- mission. He now passed several years in farming operations with his wife's family in Missouri, and in 1859', became engaged with a friend in business at St. Louis as real-estate agent, with the firm of Boggs & Grant. At this time he made an application to the authori- ties of the city for a local office. The characteristic letter addressed to the Hon. County Commissioners, in which he presented his claims, has been pre- served by his biographers ; it reads as follows : " Gentlemen ; I beg leave to submit myself as an applicant for the office of County Engineer, should the office be rendered vacant, and at the same time to submit the names of a few citizens who have been kind enough to recommend me for the office. I have made no eflfort to get a large number of names, nor the names of persons with whom I am not personally ac- quainted. I enclose herewith also, a statement from Prof. J. J. Reynolds, who was a classmate of mine at West Point, as to qualifications. "Should your honorable body see proper to giv^e me the appointment, I pledge myself to give the office my en- tire attention, and shall hope to give general satisfaction. Very respectfully, Your obedient servant, U. S. Grant." This application though backed by a goodly number of business friends was rejected, his competitor for the office succeeding, it is said, through greater political influence, though it must be admitted there was but a feeble recog- nition at this time of the talents and character by which Grant subsequently became so famous. "There was no other special objection to him," says his biographer Richardson, "than his supposed democratic proclivities from his political antecedents. His ability 214 ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. as an engineer was aeeorded. lie was not ranch known, though the commis- sioners had oeeasionally seen him about town, a trifle shabby in dress, with pantaloons tucked in his boots. They supposed him a good office man, but hardly equal to the high responsibility of keeping the roads in order. lie might answer for a clerk, but in this county engineership, talent and effi- ciency were needed." A piU'tial amend for this disappoint- ment was made by a minor position in the Custom House at St. Louis, out of Avhich he was thrown after a few weeks possession by the death of his superior, the collector. On the prospect of a vacancy in the County Engineership in 1 son, he sent in a second application to the commissioners, but the office was not vacated, and of course nothing came of it. In this extremity of his fortunes haNnng a family to support, he removed to Galena, Illinois, where his father had estaldished a protitable lea- ther business. In this store Grant was employed at the very humble salary of eight hundred dollars. In this posi- tion he was found when the attack on Sumter in the Spring of 1861 sum- moned the country to arms for the pre- servation of the integrity of the Union. The news that this first blow was struck, in Illinois, as elsewhere in the North and West, tired the heart of the people. (Jrant's town of Galena was not behind in this national emotion. A meeting on the instant was held, at which Washburn, member of Congress of the district, and Kawlins a young lawyer of the place, destined to become distinguished in the United States army, were speakers, and ga\e expres- sion to the enthusiasm of the hour. Their voice was for the uncomproniis. iiig maintenance of the National Union, and their expressions were unequivocal that this involved an armed struggle. Grant was present, quite willing to ac- cept the conclusion, and expressed his intention again to enter the service. At a second meetinof he was called upon to preside, and being apparently the only one in the region who knew anything of military organization, un- folded some of the details lequired in raising troops, which was now the order of the day. He was active in the pre- liminary local movements, in getting together volunteers, and Washburn, who began to appreciate his merits, presented his claims to command un- successfully in these first days to Gover- nor Yates, at Springfield. Grant mean- while, had ottered his services to the War Di-partment at Washington, and the ajiplication renuiined unanswered ; nor had an ajipliciition to the Governor of Ohio met a better fjite. Governor Yates, now of necessity gave him em- jdoyment as clerk in his military office, and under a like exigency, though still without a commission, became actively engaged in the work of military organi- zation. Nearly two. months had now passed, and Grant was on a visit to his father in Covington, opposite Cincin- nati, when General ^leClellan was in command. It is related that Grant called upon him twice without "j)ro- posing to ask for an appointment, but thinking that McClellau might invite him to come on his statt'." * The acci- dent of not meeting McClellan, otlei-s a curious subject of speculation as to the * Richardson's Personal History of Grant. ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 215 probable results in diverting a man of mark from the future great destiny wliich awaited him. Before he reached Illinois, on his return, a dispatch from Governor Yates to Grant was on its way appointing him colonel of the twenty-first Illinois volunteers. In this capacity Grant began his actual service in the war, marcliing his men to north- ern Missouri, where he discharged the duties of acting Brigadier General. Congress was now in session in July, and the organization of the national army of volunteers was proceeding at Washington, and at the urgency of Washburn, Grant received the commis- sion of Brigadier General. He was now placed in command of the district of southeastern Missouri, including the neighboring territory at the junction of the Ohio and Mississippi, with his head- quarters at Cairo. He began by ren- dering an important service to the country. In the nick of time, in ad- vance of orders from General Fremont, commander of the Western Department, and in anticipation of the Confederate General Polk, who was bent on appro- priating the district, and was about moving on from his headquarters below at Columbus, Grant detailed a portion of his command to take possession of Paducah, Kentucky, an important sta- tion for military purposes, at the mouth of the Tennessee. Thus promptly secur- ing this station, he addressed a procla- mation to the citizens of Paducah, dated Sept. 6th, well qualified by its courtesy and finnness to vindicate his course in allaying the jealousies, and at the same time repressing any hostility which might be expected from the bor- der State, a poi-tion of whose territory he was occupying. " I am come among you," says he, " not as an enemy, Imt as your fellow-citizen ; not to maltreat you, nor annoy you, but to respect, and enforce the rights of all loyal citizens. An enemy, in rebellion against our com- mon government, has taken possession of, and planted his guns on, the soil of Kentucky, and fired upon you. Col- umbus and Hickman are in his hands. He is moving upon your city. I am here to defend you against this enemy, to assist the authority and sovereignty of your government. I have nothing to do with opinions, and shall deal only ^vith armed rebellion and its aiders and abettors. You can pursue your usual avocations without fear. The strong arm of the government is here to pro- tect its friends, and to punish its ene- mies. Whenever it is manifest that you are able to defend yourselves, and maintain the authority of the govern- ment, and protect the rights of loyal citizens, I shall withdraw the forces under my command." Grant's friend Rawlins joined him at Cairo, as assistant adjutant general. A participation in friendship and military duty continued during the struggle, and which, at the present writing (1869) hag culminated in his appointment in the ,cal)inet of the president as Secre- tary of War. In November, Fremont having taken the field on the Arkansas border, where he was opposed to the rebel general Price, ordered Grant to make a demon- stration in the direction of Columbus to prevent the co-operation of Polk with the enemy in Arkansas. Grant, accordingly gathering his newly re- cruited forces, about three thousand 216 ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. intMi, oinltnrkod with tlu'iu on trans- ports ou tlu' lltli, and niDvod down the river. Resting tor the night at a point on the shore, he learnt that Polk had thivwn over a tort-e tVoni Colunilms to Belmont, iiuniod lately opposite ou the Missouri side. To cjirry out the objeet of the expedition, and to ttjst the valor of his troops, he resolved upon an at- tack. He landed his men about three miles above Belmont, out of range of the guns at Coliunbus, and leaving a batallion of infantry to protect his boats, advanced on the enemy's camp, where General Pillow had concentrated about twentytive hundred men. fleet- ing the confederates on the way, the land was swampy and covered with timber, there was considerable miscel- laneons firing, in which Grant's horse was shot under him. This was carried ou through the morning hours, ending in a determined push upon the enemy, and the capture of their camp, with its I artillery and personal spoils. The raw ; recruits, elated by success, began the work of j^luniler, and pi'eseutly the tents were set on fire. As all this was visilde at headquarters at Columbus, Polk directed his guns at the spot and brought over reinforcements to inter- cept the Union troops on their return, which Grant and his officers, fully awaj'e of the situation, with energy, though not without dltHculty were conducting. The men were brought through a tire of skirmishers to the boats, carrying oft' a number of prison- ers, with all possible care for the wountl- ed, Grant being the last man on the bank to re-embark. It is said that while he was riding slowly along in the dresa of a private, he wiis poiuteil out by G^eneral Polk, as a target to his men, who were too intent on liring upun the crowded transports to take advantage of this opportunity within their reach. This was the battle, as it was (ernicd, of Belmont, with the result which fully justified the movement, a lieavy loss having been inflicted on the enemy, in killed, uountlod, and prisoners, the in- dicated diversion having been etl'ected, and what was more, at tlie time, in the words of Grant in a private let tor to his father inimediately after the enirago- ment : "confidence ha vini; been siven in the officers and men of tl»is com- mand that will enable us to lead them in any future engagement, without feju' of the result." The next military movement of con- sequence in which Grant was engaged, grew (mt of his timely proceeding in gaining command of the Tennessee river at Paduoah. llalleek was now Grant's superior in the Western de- })artnient, and was planning a compre- hensive scheme of attack upon the enemy on the Kentucky and Ter.nessee frontier, proportionate to the impor- tance and magnitude which the conflict had now assumed. January, 18tj2, saw these plans per- fected ; the design was to dislodge the enemy on the upper waters of the Ten- nessee and the C'umberland, and thus gain possession of the river communi- cation with the interior. Grant moved with a land force on the 2nd of Feb- ruar)', ascending the Tennessee in trans- ports from Pailucah, supported by a flotilla of gunboats under Com. Foote. Foit Henry was the immediate object of attack, and the position was gained in the prelimimuy assault by the gun- ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 217 boats in a close encounter, General Til- man, the commander of the ji'arnson, makin<;r a timely escape with his men to Fort Donelson, distant but twelve miles on the Cuniljerland, wliich thus far pursued a parallel course witli the Tenneseee. Grant now saw his oppor- tunity to strike a bh^w by advanc- ing immediately upon Fort Donelson. With characteristic energy he would have moved at once, Itut was prevented by a rising of the Tennessee, which put the roads under water, and made them impracticable for artillery. On the 12tli, he moved upon the position, and began the investment of the place. Weather of intense severity set in, and the men suffered fearfully from expo- sure ; still the wor-k went on, with sharp skirmishing, reinforcements meanwhile arriving, and Foote bringing up his gunboats on the Cumberland. An at- tack of the latter upon the works, fail- ed of success, on account of the high position of the enemy's guns above the river. On the 15th, theencmy despair- ing of maintaining their position, though numbering a large force, ably defended by artillery, attacked the i-ight of the investing army, held by McCler- nand. They had gained some advan- vaniage when Grant came upon the ground, arriving fi-ora an interview with Foote. Detecting by his militar-y sagacity, from the fact that the prison- ers' haversacks were filled with ration.s, the intention of the enemy to cut their way out, he resolved upon an immedi- ate assault upon the works, ordering the veteran General C. F. Smith in com- mand on the left, to begin the attack. This was made late in the afternoon with great gallantry, and ended in Smith's gaining a position which com- mandiid the fort. That night the crx-rny evacuated the position, the rebel gen- erals Floyd and Pillow escaping with a large portion of the force by boats up the river, leaving Gener-al Eirckner to arr'ange the conditions of surrender. lie accordingly, at daylight on the morn, ing of the ICth, sent a dispatch to Gen- eral Grant proposing an armistice with a view of entei-inir on riej^otiatlons. To this Gr-ant on the night after sent the following reply : " Yours of this date proposing armistice, an appoint- ment of commissioner's to settle terms of capitulation, is just received. No terms except an unconditiorral and im- mediately surrender can be accepted. I propo.se to move immediately upon your works" Stript of his troops by the flight of the rebel-generals, Buck- ner had no choice left, but submission. The LFnited States flag was raised at Fort Donelson, and fourteen thousand prisoners were transported to Cairo. For that good day's work Grant was made a major-general of volunteers. Notwithstanding Grant's brilliant success at Donelson, his character ap- pears to have been so little understood by General Ilalleck that after several annoying complaints Grant felt com- pelled to ask to be relieved from fur- ther duty in the department. This however Ilalleck would not accept and ordered a disposition of the forces which soon brought Grant again into action. Two months later occurred the battle of Pittsburgh Landing, on the Tennessee River. Under the orders of his superior. Grant had brought to- gether at this ]»]ace all the troops in his command, numbering 38,000 men, 218 ULYSSES SIMPSON GR.VNT. and lie was expecting Biiell from Nash- ville to join him with about the same number. The enemy was assembling his forces at Corinth, an important rail- way junction twenty miles distant. Exaggerated reports of their strength were current in the Union Camp, and as the position was badly defended, and an immediate attack was feared Gr.iiit began ti> look with anxiety for the ar- rival of his reinforcements. At last, on the 6th, of April the van of Buell's army reached the Tennessee a few miles below the camp, and were ordered to hold themselves in readiness for imme- diate action, as skirmishing had already commenced. On Sunday the (5th of April, the rebel General A. S. Johnson made an attack in force. General Pren- tiss was in command of that side of the camp where the attack began, and he had only time to form his line before he was driven back by the advancing columns. The field was soon swept by the enemy and the Union forces push- ed to the river where they were par- tially protected by the gunboats. The reinforcements which had arrived the day before, and the rest of Buell's army which had followed them, did not come upon the ground until too late to be of service on that day. At the beginning of the battle. General Grant was at his headquarters at Sa- vannah, but hearing of the action, im- mediately reached the ground and was encased on the field in the afternoon in rallying his broken divisions. When he perceived that the ardor of the enemy's attack had somewhat abated, and that they did not pursue their ad- vantage as they might, ho deteiiiiiiied to renew tlie tigiit on the next morning, believing, as he said, that in such cir- cumstances when both sides were near- ly worn out, the one that first showed a bold front would win. Such was his determination, when the arrival of Buell's 20,000 fresh troops placed the hoped for success almost bejond a doubt. The next day the fight was ai'cordingly resumed, and after a series of severe contests, Beauregard, who had succeeded to the command of General Johnson, who was kilUd 'n the first day's engagement, retu'ed with his army to Corinth. The fatigue ot the troops, and the roads rendered im- passible by the showers of rain, made pursuit impossible. Soof after this, General Halleck, the head of the department, took the field, and Grant became second in command. After the evacuation of Corinth by the enemy, when Halleck was calleil to Washington, as General-in-Chief, the force w4iich had been gathered on the Tennessee was di\ ided up into differ- ent commands. Buell was sent with his army to the east, and General Grant was assigned to the army of West Ten- nessee. The battles of luka, and the second battle of Corinth, in Sejjtember and October, proved the successful man- agement of hia department. His com- mand having been greatly increased, he established his head(|uarters, in De- cember, at Holly Springs in Mississippi, and henceforth was engaged in the ar- duous operations in that State, which for many months employed the forces on the Mi;-:sissij)pi, till final victory crowned their ettbrts in the capture of Vicks])urg, with its garrison, a triumph doubly niemorabU' l)y its association with the day of independence — the full ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 219 surrender being made and the flag rais- ed over tlie vaunted stronghold on the 4th of July, 1863. The campaign of General Grant immediately preceding the close investment of the city gained him the highest reputation as a com- mander, at home and abroad. After the Union forces had been disappoint- ed in repeated efforts to take the city with its formidable works by direct as- sault or near approach, General Grant, at the end of April, landed a force on the Mississippi shore, about sixty miles below, defeated the enemy at Port Gib- son, thus turning Grand Gulf,' which consequently was abandoned to the naval force on the river ; advanced into the interior, again defeated the enemy at Raymond, on the 12th of May ; moved on and took possession of Jack- son, the capital of the State; then marched westward towards Vicksburg, defeating the forces General Pem- berton, the commander of that post, sent out to meet him, at Baker's Creek and again at Black River Bridge. All this was the work of a few days, the eighteenth of the month bringing the army in the immediate vicinity of Vicksburg, in command of all its com- munications with the interior. The siege followed ; it was conducted with eminent steadfastness and ability, and surrendered as we have stated in an unconditional triumph. For this emi- nent service. General Grant was pro- moted Major-General in regular army. This great success finally determined Grant's position before the country, and the estimation in which he was now held was all the more enthusiastic and secure in consequence of the distrust which in spite of his successes, had in a great degree attended his course. It had in fact been with difficulty that he had been retained in his command be- fore Vicksburg ; and it had been wholly owing to his self reliance that he had carried out his own plan of throwing himself in his final successful move- ment upon the passage of the river be- low the foi-tress. President Lincoln unreservedly acknowledged Grant's su- perior prescience and his own want of confidence. When all was over and the Mississippi was virtually opened to the sea he wi'ote to the Genei-al, " When you got below and took Port Gibson, Grand Gulf, and vicinity, I thought you would go down the river and join General Banks ; and when you hurried northward east of the Big Black, I feared it was a mistake. I now wish to make the personal acknowledgement that you wei-e right and I was wrong." This period also practically saw an end on the part of his opponents of the scan- dal which had at different times been re- vived against Grant on the charge of intemperance in drinking. During the protracted siege of Vicksburg an im- patient grumbler, we are told by Rich- ardson, demanded his removal from the President. "For what reason?" asked Lincoln. " Because he drinks so much whiskey," " Ah ! yes," was the reply, " by the way can you tell me where he gets his whiskey ? He has given us about all the successes, and if his whiskey does it, I should like to send a barrel of the same brand to every General in the field."- In fact Grant, as his biographer just cited states, " was never under the influence of di-inkiug to the direct or indirect detriment of the service for a single 220 ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. raoment, and after the restoration of peiice planted his feet on the safe and solid c^round of total abstinence. " In October, (^rant \vas aijain called to the field. Rosoeians had been badly defeated by Bragg and Longstreet at Chiekaniauga in Tennessee, and Thomas who had superseded him \v:us now close ly hemmed in by the enemy at Chatta- nooga. Grant, while on a visit to New Orleans in the summer, had been thrown by a restive horse, sustaining severe bruises which confined him to his bed for several weeks, and at the time he received his orders to join the army of the Tennessee, he was only able to move about on crutches, but his bodily sutiering in no way subdued his char- acteristic energy. He immediately brought up Sherman with a laige rein- forcement, and at the same time Hooker with his army was sent by Genend Halleck fi-om Virginia. In the succeed- ing battle of Chattanoosra (xrant at- tacked the enemy in his own position, and after a series of conflicts, among the severest in the war, the Union troops led by Hooker and Sherman drove the rebels from their lines, forc- ing Bragg to retreat into Georgia, and thus exposing the centre of the Confed- erate States. In consequence of these l)rilliant suc- cesses, the grade of Lieutenant-General was revived by Congress and conferred upon General Grant. He was now Commander-in-chief of all the armies of the United States. That he fully appreciated how much in attaining this rank he owed to his subordinates, is shown by the following letter address- ed to Sherman on quiting the west. After announcing his promotion, he says " Whilst I have been eminently success ful in this war, in at least gaining the confidence of the public, no one feels more than I, how much of this success is due to the energy, skill, and harmo- nious putting forth of that energy and skill of those whom it is my good for- tune to have occupying subordinate po- sitions under me. " There are many officers to whom these remarks are applicable to a great- er or less degree, proportionate to their ability as soldiers ; but what I want is, to express my thanks to you and to M'Pherson, as the men to whom, above all others, I feel indebted for whatever I have had of success. " How far your advice and assistance have been of help to me you know. How far your execution of whatever has been given to you to do, entitles you to the reward I am receiving, you cannot know as well as I. " I feel all the gratitude this letter would express, giving it the most flat- tering construction. '' The word you I use in the plural, intending it for M'Pherson also."' Grant had now the whole country before him to chose his own field of operations. His fii-st thoughts were turned to Georgia, where the oppor- tunities opened up by the success at Chattanooi'a invited him to a cam- paigu in the interior, but looking round he saw that the head and front of the rebellion was still at Richmond, and ho determined to face the enemy ttpon the ground where, hitherto undefeated, a victory gained over him would be most decisive in breaking the power of the Confederacy. Grant's design was now to make a ULYSSES SIMPSON GRANT. 221 simultaneous attack along the whole Union line, from the James River to New Orleans. He took the com- mand of the army of the Potomac in person, and moved from his head- quarters at Culpepper Court-House on the 4th of May, with the object of putting himself between Richmond and Lee's army which was then a few miles distant at Orange Court-House. The enemy, however, apprised of his move- ment, fell upon his flank and the two days fighting in the Wilderness that ensued were among the bloodiest conflicts of the war. Grant barely held his ground, but although the loss- es he sustained were as gieat as those which had driven Hooker and Meade back to Washington, he held on to the design of cutting the rebel line, and before the last gun was fired in the Wilderness, his front had aa-ain en- countered Lee's troops at Spottsylvania. Here the contest was renewed, and lasted with various movements and great slaughter for twelve days. It was now evident that success, however determined the onset, and with what- ever sacrifice of life, was not to be de- termined by a first or a second blow. Grant, however, was not to be deten-ed from his purpose, which he expressed in a memorable despatch. " I propose to fight it out on this line if it takes all summer." The line, however, as at another earlier crisis of the war, proved not so direct as was anticipated by the public, which learnt only by de- grees the full measure of the enemy's strength and resolution. By a flank movement. Grant now directed his forces to strategic points of importance on the road to Richmond, successfully accomplisliing though not without op- position the passage of the North Anna to encamp again on the old battle- grounds of McClellan. The struggle was renewed in a desperate })ut imprac- ticable assault on the enemy's line at Chickahominy. From this point the contest was rapidly transferred to the James River; Petersburg was investev a tone of moderation and defer- ence to the will of tbe jieople as ex- pressed in the Acts of Congress. His administration has been in accord witb their measures. Amoui' the leadinir leatures of its domestic j)oHcy, has been tbe gradual restoration to the South of its privileges, forfeited by tbe necessi- ties of tlie war, and tbe reduction of tbe national debt ; while its foreign policy has secured the negotiation of tbe treaty of arbitration witb England for the settlement of claims, arising from tbe negligence or wrong-doing of that country in relation to certain ques- tions of international law, during tbe Southern rebellitm. When, in 1872, at tbe ajjproacbiug conclusion of bis term of office, a new nomination was to be made for tbe Presidency, be was again chosen by tbe convention of tbe Re- publican party as their candidate. The result of the election was equal- ly decided witb that following bis first nomination. He received tbe vote of thirty-one states, with a popu- lar majority, over Horace Greeley, of 762,991. Tbe second inauguration on tbe 4th of March, 1873, though the day was severely cold, was celdu-ated by an imposing civil and military i>ro- cession, witb a large attendance at tbe capitol. In his address, tbe President alluded to the restoration of tbe South- ern States to their federal relations; the new policy adopted towards the Indians; the civil service rules, and other topics of foreign and domestic administration, witb a general refer- ence to tbe tendency of the world to- wards Republicanism. Chronological List of the Presidents and Vice-Presidents of the U. S. The First Administration-1789 to 1797-Eight Years. PRESIDENTB. VICE-Pl:E8IDBNT8. GEORGE WASHINGTON, Virginia. JOHN ADAMS, Massachusetts. The Second Administration— 1797 to 1801— Four Years. JOHN ADxVMS, Massacliusetts. THOMAS JEFFERSON, Virginia. The Third Admlnistration-1801 to 1809-Eight Years. THOMAS JEFFERSON, Virginia. AARON BURR, New York. GEORGE CLINTON, New York. The Fourth Administration— 1809 to 1817— Eight Years. JAMES MADISON, Virginia. GEORGE CLINTON, New York. ELBRIDGE GERRY, Massachusette. The Fifth Administration— 1817 to 1825-Eight Years. JAMES MONROE, Virginia. DANIEL D. TOMPKINS, New York. The Sixth Administration— 1825 to 1829-Four Years. JOHN QUINCY ADAMS, Massacliusetts. JOHN C. CALHOUN, South Carolina. The Seventh Administration— 1829 to 1837-Eight Years. ANDREW JACKSON, Tennessee. JOHN C. CALHOUN, South Carolina. MARTIN VAN BUREN, New York. The Eighth Administration— 1837 to 184-1- Four Years. MARTIN VAN BUREN, New York. RICHARD M. JOHNSON, Kentucky. The Ninth Administration— 1841 to 1845— Four Years. WILLIAM HENRY HARRISON, Ohio. (Died JOHN TYLER, Virginia. April 4, 18il.) JOHN TYLER, Va., (from April 4, 1841). The Tenth Administration— 1845 to 1849— Four Years. JAMES K. POLK, Tennessee. GEORGE M. DALLAS, Pennsylvania. The Eleventh Administration— 1849 to 1853-Four Years. ZACHARY TAYLOR, Louisiana. (Died July MILLARD FILLMORE, New York. 9, 1850.) MILLARD FILLMORE, New York. (From July 9, 1850.) The Twelfth Administration— 1853 to 1857- Four Years. FRANKLIN PIERCE, New Hampshire. WILLLYM R. KING, Alabama. (Died April 18, 1853.) The Thirteenth Administration— 1857 to 1861— Four Years. JAMES BUCHANAN, Pennsylvania. JOHN C. BRECKENRIDGB, Kentucky. The Fourteenth Administration— 1861 to 1869— Eight Years. ABRAHAM LI.VCOLN, Illinois. HANNIBAL HAMLIN, Maine. ABRAHAM LINCOLN, (Assassinated, 2d Term, April 15, 1865.) Succeeded by ANDREW JOHNSON, Tennessee. ANDREW JOHNSON, Tennessee. (From April 15, 1865.) The Fifteenth Administration— 1869 to 1873— Four Years. ULYSSES S. GRANT. Illinois. SCHUYLER COLFAX, Indiana. Entered on liis Second term March 4, 1873. HENRY WILSON, Massachusettei. 224 CONSTITUTION OF THE UNTrED STATES. THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tran- quillity, provide for the common de- fence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to oui-selves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America. ARTICLE I. Sect. 1. All legislative powers here- in granted, shall be vested in a Con- gress of the United States, which shall consist of a senate and house of re])- resentatives. Sect. 2. The house of representa- tives shall be composed of membere chosen every second year by the people of the several states; and the electors in each state, shall have the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the state legislatm-e. No person shall be a representative, who shall not have attained to the age of twenty-five years, and been seven years a citizen of the United vStates, and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabitant of that state in which he shall be chosen. Representatives and direct taxes shall be apportioned among the sev- eral states which may be included within this union, according to their respective numbei-s, which shall be de- termined, by adding to the whole num- ber of free pei-sons, including those bound to service for a term of years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three- fifths of all other persons. The actual enumeration shall be made within three years after the first meeting of the Congress of the United States, and within every subsequent term of ten years, in such manner as they shall by law direct. The number of represent- atives shall not exceed one for eveiy thirty thousand, but each state shall have, at least, one representative ; and until such enumeration shall be made, the state of New Ilanipsliire shall be entitled to choose three, Massachusetts eight, Ixhode Island and Proviilonce Plantations one, Connecticut five, New York six, New Jersey four, Pennsyl- vania eight, Delaware one, Maryland six, Virginia ten, North Carolina five. South Carolina five, and Georgia three. When vacancies happen in the rep- resentation from any state, the exoou- tive authority thereof shall issue writs of election to fill such vacancies. The house of representatives shall choose their speaker and other officers ; and shall have the sole power of im- peachment. Sect. 3. The senate of the United States shall be composed of two sena- toi-s from each state, chosen by the legislature thereof, for six yeai-s ; and each senator shall have one vote. Immediately after they shall be as- sembled in consequence of the fii-st election, they shall be di\'ided, as equally as may be into three classes. The seats of the senators of the first cla^e shall be vacated at the expiration of the second year, of the second class at the expiration of the fourth year, and of the third class at the expiration of the sixth year, so that one third may be chosen every second year; and if CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 225 vacancies happen by resignation or otherwise, during the recess of the legislature of any state, the executive thereof may make temporary appoint- ments until the next meeting of the legislature, which shall then fill such vacancies. No person shall be a senator who shall not have attained to the ag© of thirty years, and been nine years a citizen of the United States, and who shall not, when elected, be an inhabit- ant of that state for which he shall be chosen. The vice president of the United States shall be president of the senate, but shall have no vote, unless they be equally divided. The senate shall choose their other officers, also a president pro tempore, in the absence of the vice president, or when he shall exercise the office of president of the United States. The senate shall have the sole power to try all impeachments. When sitting for that purpose, they shall be on oath or affirmation. When the president of the United States is tried, the chief justice shall preside ; and no person shall be convicted without the concur- rence of two-thirds of the members present. Judgment in cases of impeachment shall not extend further than to re- moval from office, and disqualification to hold and enjoy any office of honor, trust, or profit, under the United States ; but the party convicted shall nevertheless be liable and subject to indictment, trial, judgment, and pun- ishment, according to law. Sect. 4. The times, places and man- ner of holding elections for senators and representatives, shall be prescribed in each state by the legislature there- of; but the Congress may at any time, by law, make or alter such regulations, except as to the places of choosing sen- atora. The Congress shall assemble at least once in every year, and such meeting shall be on the firet Monday in Decem- ber, unless they shall by law appoint a different day. Sect. 5. Each house shall be the judge of the elections, returns, and qualifications, of its own members ; and a majority of each shall constitute a quorum to do business ; but a smaller number may adjourn from day to day, and may be authorized to compel the attendance of absent members, in such manner, and under such penalties as each house may provide. Each house may determine the lodes of its proceedings, punish its membere for disorderly behavior, and, with the concurrence of two-thirds, expel a member. Each house shall keep a journal of its proceedings, and from time to time publish the same, excepting such parts as may, in their judgment, require secrecy ; and the yeas and nays of the members of either house on any ques- tion, shall, at the request of one fifth of those present, be entered on the jom'nal. Neither house, during the session of Congress, shall, without the consent of the other, adjourn for more than three days, nor to any other place than that in which the two houses shall be sitting. Sect. G. The senators and represen- 226 CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. tatives shaD receive a compensation for their services, to be ascertained by law, and paid out of the treasury of the United States. They shall in all cases, except treason, felony, and breach of the peace, be privileged from arrest during their attendance at the session of their respective houses, and in going to and returning from the same ; and for any speech or debate in either house, they shall not be questioned in any other place. No senator or representative shall, during the time for which he was elected, be appointed to any ci^^l office under the authority of the United States, which shall have been created, or the emoluments whereof shall have been increased during such time ; and no person holding any office under the United States, shall be a member of either house during his continuance in office. Sect. 7. All bills for raising revenue shall originate in the house of repre- Bentatives; but the senate may pro- pose or concur with amendments as on other bills. Every bill which shall have passed the house of representatives and the senate, shall, before it become a law, be presented to the president of the United States. If he approve, he shall sign it ; but if not, he shall return it, with his objections, to that house in which it shall have originated, who shall enter the objections at large on their journal, and proceed to recon- sider it. If, after such reconsideration, two-thirds of that house shall agree to pa«s the bill, it shall he sent, together with the objections, to the other house,. by which it shall likewise be recon- sidered, and if approved by two-thirds of that hoase it shall l)econie a law. But in all such cases!, the votes of both houses shall be determined by yeas and nays, and the names of the per- sons voting for and against the bill shall be entered on the journal of each house respectively. If any bill sliall not be retunied by the president within ten days, (Sundays excepted) after it shall have been presented to him, the same shall be a law, in like manner as if he had signed it, unless the Congress, by their adjom-nment prevent its re- turn, in which case it shall not be a law. Every order, resolution, or vote, (o which the concun-ence of the senate and house of representatives may ba necessary, (except on a question of ad- journment) shall be presented to the president of the United States; and before the same shall take effect, shall be approved by him, or, being disap- proved by him, shaU be repassed by two-thirds of the senate and house of representatives, according to the rules and limitations prescnbcd in the case of a bill. Sect. 8. The Congi-ess shall have power — To lay and collect taxes, duties, im- posts, and excises: To pay the debts and pro\nde for the common defence and general welfare of the United States; but all duties, imposts, and excises, shall be uniform throughout the United States : To borrow money on the credit of of the United States : To regulate commerce with foreign CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 227 nations, and among the several states, and with the Indian tribes : To establish a uniform rule of natu- ralization, and uniform laws on the subject of baukraptcies throughout the United States : To coin money, regulate the value thereof, and of foreign coin, and fix the standard of weights and measures : To provide for the punishment of counterfeiting the securities and cur- rent coin of the United States : To establish post offices and post roads : To promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing for limited times, to authors and inventors, the exclusive right to theu' respective writ- ings and discoveries : To constitute tribunals inferior to the supreme court: To define and punish piracies and felonies committed on the high seas, and ofiences against the law of nations : To declare war, to grant letters of marque and reprisal, and make rules concerning captures on land and water : To raise and support armies ; but no appropriation of money to that use shall be for a longer term than two years : To provide and maintain a navy : To make rules for the government and regulation of the land and naval forces : To provide for calling forth the militia to execute the laws of the union, suppress insurrections, and repel invasions : To provide for organizing, arming, and disciplining the militia, and for governing such part of them as may be employed in the service of the United States — reserving to the states respectively, the appointment of the officers, and the authority of training the militia according to the discipline prescribed by Congress : To exercise exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever, over such district (not exceeding ten miles square) as may, by cession of particular states, and the acceptance of Congi-ess, become the seat of government of the United States, and to exercise like authority over all places purchased, by the consent of the legislature of the state in which the same shall be, for the erection of forts, magazines, arsenals, dock yards, and other needful buildings : — and. To make all laws which shall be ne- cessary and proper for can-ying into execution the foregoing powers, and all other powers vested by this constitution in the government of the United States, or in any department or officer thereof. Sect. 9. The migration or importar tion of such persons as any of the states, now existing, shall think proper to ad- mit, shall not be prohibited by the Congress prior to the year 1808, but a tax or duty may be imposed on such importation, not exceeding ten doUai-s for each person. The privilege of the writ of habeas corpus shall not be suspended, unless when, in cases of rebellion or invasion, the public safety may require it. No bill of attainder, or ex post facto law, shall be passed. No capitation, or oth^r direct tax shall be laid, unless in proportion to the census or enumeration herein bo- fore directed to be taken. 228 CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES No tax or duty shall be laid on articles exported from any state. No preference shall be given by any regu- lation of commerce or revenue to the ports of one state over those of another ; nor shall vessels bound to, or from one state, be obliged to enter, clear, or pay duties in another. No money shall be di'awn from the treasury, but in consequence of appro- priations made by law : and a regular statement and account of tho receipts and expenditures of all public money shall be published from time to time. No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States : and no person holding any office of profit or trust under them, shaU, without the consent of the Congress, accept of any present, emolument, office, or title of any kind whatever, from any king, prince, or foreign state. Sect. 10. No state shall enter into any treaty, alliance, or confederation ; grant letters of marque and reprisal ; coin money ; emit bills of credit ; make any thing but gold and silver coin a tender in payment of debts ; pass any bill of attainder, ex post facto law, or law impairing the obligation of con- tracts, or grant any title of nobility. No state shaU, without the consent of the Congress, lay any imposts or duties on impoi*ts or exports, except what may be absolutely necessary for executing its inspection laws ; and the nett produce of all duties and imposts, laid by any state on imports or exports, shall be for the use of the treasury of the United States ; and all such laws shall be subject to the revision and control of the Congi-ess. No state shall, without the consent of Congress, lay any duty of tonnage, keep troops or ships of war in time of peace, enter into any agreement or compact with another state, or with a foreign power, or engixge in war, uidess actually in- vaded, or in such imminent danger as will not admit of delay. ARTICLE II. Sect. 1. The executive power shall be vested in a President of the United States of America. He shall hold his office during the term of four yeai-s, and, together with the Vice President, chosen for the same term, be elected as follows : Each state shall appoint, in such manner as the legislature thereof may direct, a number of electors equal to the whole number of senators and rep- resentatives to which the state may be entitled in the Congress; but no senator or representative, or person holding any office of trust or profit under the United States, shall be ap- pointed an elector. The electore shall meet in their respective states, and vote by ballot for two pereons, of whom one at least shall not be an inhabitant of the same state with themselves. And they shall make a list of all the pei-sons voted for, and of the number of votes for each ; which list they shall sign and ceitif)-, and transmit sealed to the seat of the government of the United States, di- rected to the president of the senate. The president of the senate shall, in the presence of the senate and house of rejv resentatives, open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted. CONSTITUTION 0¥ THE UNITED STATES. 22U The person having the gi-eatest number of votes shall be the president, if such number be a majority of the whole number of electora appointed ; and if there be more than one who have such majority, and have an equal number of votes, then the house of representa- tives shall immediately choose, by bal- lot, one of them for president ; and if no person have a majority, then from the five highest on the list, the said house shall, in like manner, choose the president. But in choosing the presi- dent, the votes shall be taken by states, the representation from each state hav- ing one vote. A quorum for this pur- pose shall consist of a member or members from two-thirds of the states, and a majority of all the states shall be necessary to a choice. In eveiy case, after the choice of the president, the person having the greatest number of votes of the electors shall be the vice president. But if there should remain two or more who have equal votes, the senate shall choose from them, by ballot, the vice president. The Congress may determine the time of choosing the electors, and the day on which they shall give their votes ; which day shall be the same throughout the United States. No person, except a natural bom citizen, or a citizen of the United States at the time of the adoption of this constitution, shall be eligible to the office of president; neither shall any person be eligible to that office, who shall not have attained to the age of thirty-five years, and been fourteen years a resident within the United States. In case of the removal of the j)resi- dent from office, or of his death, resig- nation, or inability to discharge the powers and duties of the said office, the same shall devolve on the vice president; and the Congress may by law provide for the case of i-emoval, death, resignation, or inability, both of the president and vice president, declaring what officer shall then act as president, and such officer shall act ac- cordingly until the disability be re- moved, or a president shall be elected. The president shall, at .stated times, receive for his services a compensation, which shall neither be increased nor diminLshed during the period for which he shall have been elected, and he shall not receive within that period any other emolument from the United States, or any of them. Before he entera on the execution of his office, he shall take the following oath or affiimation: "I do solemnly swear, (or affirm) "that I will faithfully execute the "office of president of the United "States, and will, to the best of my "ability, preserve, protect, and de- "fend the constitution of the United "States." Sect. 2. The president shall be com- mander-in-chief of the army and navy of the United States, and of the militia of the several states, when called into the actual sei"vice of the United States; he may require the opinion, in writing, of the principal officer in each of the executive departments, upon any sul> ject relating to the duties of their respective offices ; and he shall have power to grant reprieves and pardons 230 CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. for ofifeucea against the United States, except in cases of impeacbnieut. He sbiill liave power, by and with the advice and consent of the senate, to make treaties, provided two-thirds of the senators present concur : and he shall nominate, and by and with the advice and consent of the senate, shall appoint ambassadoi-s, other public min- isters, and consuls, judges of the su- preme court, and all other officers of the United States, whose appointments arc not herein otherwise provided for, and which shall be established by law. But the Congress may by law vest the appointment of such inferior officere as they think proper in the president alone, in the courts of law, or in the Leads of departments. The president shall have power to fill up all vacancies that may happen during the recess of the senate, by granting commissions, which shall ex- pire at the end of their next session. Sect. 3. He shall, from time to time, give to the Congress information of the state of the union, and recommend to their consideration such measures as he shall judge necessary and expedient ; he may, on extraordinary occasions, con- vene both houses, or either of them, and in case of disagreement between them, w^tll respect to the time of ad- journment, he may adjourn them to such time as he shall think proper ; he shall receive ambassadors and other public ministers ; he shall take care that the laws be faithfully executed ; and shall commission all the officers of the United States. Skct. 4. The president, vice presi- denl, ond all civil officers of the United States shall be removed from office on impeachment for, and conviction of treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors. ARTICLE III. Sect. 1. The judicial power of the United States shall be vested in one supreme court, and in such inferior courts as the Congress may, from time to time, ordain and establish. The judges, both of the supreme and in- ferior courts, shall hold their offices during good behavior; and shall, at stated times, receive for their services a compensation, which shall not be diminished dming their continuance in office. Sect. 2. The judicial power shall ex- tend to all cases in law and equity, arising under this constitution, the laws of the United States, and treaties made, or which shall be made under their authority ; to all cases affecting ambas- sadors, other public ministei-s, and con- suls; to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction ; to controvei-sies to which the United States shall be a jiarty ; to controversies between two or more states, between a state and citi- zens of another state, between citizens of different states, between citizens of the same state, claiming lands under grants of different states, and between a state, or the citizens thereof, and for- eign states, citizens, or subjects. In all cases affecting ainbassadoi-s, other public ministei's and consuls, and those in which a state shall be party, the supreme court shall have original jurisdiction. In all the other ciises be- fore mentioned, the sui^reme court shall CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. 231 have appellate jurisdiction, both as to law and fact, with such exceptions, and nnder such regulations as the Congreas Bhall make. The trial of all crimes, except in cases of impeachment, shall be by jury ; and such trial shall be held in the state where the said crimes shall have been committed ; but when not committed within any state, the trial shall be at such place or places as the Congress may by law have directed. Sect. 3. Treason against the United States shall consist only in levying war against them, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort. No pei-son shall be convicted of treason unless on the testimony of two wit- nesses to the same overt act, or on con- fession in open court. The Congress shall have power to declare the punishment of treason ; but no attainder of treason shall work corruption of blood, or forfeiture, ex- cept during the life of the person at- tainted. AETICLE IT. Sect. 1. Full faith and credit shall be given in each state, to the public acts, records, and judicial proceedings of every other state. And the Con- gress may, by general laws, prescribe the manner in which such acts, records and proceedings shall be proved, and the effect thereof. Sect. 2. The citizens of each state shall be entitled to all privileges and immunities of citizens in the several states. A person charged in any state with treason, felony, or other crime, who hall flee fium justice, and be found in another state, shall, on demand of the executive authority of the state from which he fled, be delivered up, to be removed to the state having jurisdic- tion of the crime. No person held to service or labor in one state, under the laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in conse- quence of any law or regidation therein, be discharged from such service or labor; but shall be delivered up, on claim of the party to whom such ser- vice or labor may be due. Sect. 3. New states may be admitted by the Congi-ess into this union ; but no new state shall be formed or erected within the juiisdiction of any other state, nor any state be formed by the junction of two or more states, or parts of states, without the consent of the legislatures of the states concerned, as well as of the Congress. The Congress shall have power to dispose of and make all needful rules and regulations respecting the territory or other property belonging to the United States; and nothing in this constitution shall be so construed as to prejudice any claims of the United States, or of any particular state. Sect. 4. The United States shall guarantee to every state in this imion a republican form of government, and shall protect each of them against in vasion ; and on application of the leg- islature, or of the executive (when the legislature cannot be convened) against domestic violence. ARTICLE T. Tlie Congress, whenever two-thirda of l»uth hoases .shall deem it necessary. 232 CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES. shall propose amendments to this con- stitution ; or, on the npj)lication of the legislatures of two-thirds of the several Btates, shall call a convention for pro- posing amendments, which, in either case, shall be valid to all intents and purposes, as part of this constitution, when ratified by the legislatures of three-fourths of the several states, or by conventions in three-fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of ratifi- cation may be proposed by the Con- gress : Provided, that no amendment which may be made prior to the year 1808, shall in any manner aftect the first and fourth clauses in the ninth section of the first article ; and that no state, without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrage in the senate. ARTICLE VI. All debts contracted and engage- ments entered into, before the adoption of this constitution, shall be as valid against the United States under this constitution as under the confederation. This constitution, and the laws of the United States which shall be made in pursuance thereof; and all treaties made, or which shall be made, under the authority of the United States, shall be the supreme law of the land ; and the judges in every state shall be hound thereby, any thing in the con- stitution or laws of any state to the contrary notwithstanding. The senators and representatives before mentioned, and the members of the several state legislatures, and all executive and judicial officci*s, both of the United States and of tlie several status, shall be bound by oath or affir- mation, to support this constitution; but no religious t.est shall ever lie re- quired as a qualification to any office or public trust under the United States. ARTICLE VII. The ratification of the conventions of nine states shall l)e sufficient fi)r the establishment of this constitution be- tween the states so ratifying the same. Done in convention, by the unanimous consenl of the states present, the 17th day of Septem- ber, in the year of our Lord 1787, and of the independence of the United Stiitcs of America, the twelfth. In witness whereof, we have hereunto subscribed our names. GEORGE WASHINGTON, President, And deputy from Virleted his Fjirewell Address, and gave expression to the views which he entertained on public aflaii-s, and the principles by which he bad ever been governed in the service of the state. This noble and manly document, the invaluable legacy of the father of his country to the people whom he loved, and for whom he labored all his life long, is too important not to be held up continually before the eyes of the countrymen of Washington, and the inheritoi"s of the manifold blessings of liberty and law, which Washington expended bis best energies to secure to all generations. I a strict regard to all the considerations "to the people of the united states. " Friends and Fellow Citizens : — The period for a new election of a cit- izen to administer the executive gov- ernment of the United States being not far distant, and the time actually arrived when your thoughts must be employed in desiifnatins: the person who is to be clothed ■witb that important trust, it appears to me proper, especially as it may con- duce to a more distinct exj^ression of the public voice, that I sho'ild now ap- prise you of the resolution I have form- ed, to decline being consideied among the number of those out of whom the choice is to be made. " I beg you at the same time to do me the justice to be assured, that this resolution has not been taken without ajipertaiuing to the relation which binds a dutiful citizen to bis country; and that in withdrawing the tender of ser- vice, which silence in my situation might imply, I am influenced by no diminution of zeal for your future interest ; no defi- ciency of grateful respect for your past kindness; but am supported by a full conviction, that the step is compatible with both. "The acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in, the office to which your suffrages have twice called me have been an uniform sacrifice of inclination to the opinion of duty, and to a deference for what appeared to be your desii-e. I constantly hoped that it would have been much earlier in my power, consistently witb motives which I was not at liberty to disregard, to WASHINGTON'S FAltEWELL ADDRESS. 2:57 return to that retirement from which I had heen reluctantly drawn. The strength of my inclination to do this, previous to the last election, had even led to the preparation of an address to declai'e it to you ; hut mature reflection on the then perple.xed and critical pos- ture of our affairs with foreign nations, and the unanimous advice of pei-sons entitled to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea. " I rejoice that the state of your con- cerns, external as well as intei'nal, no longer renders the pursuit of inclinar tion incompatible with the sentiment of duty or propriety ; and am persuaded, whatever partiality may be retained for my services, that in the present circum- stances of our couatiy, you will not dis- approve of my determination to retire. "The impressions with which I first undertook the arduous trust, were ex- plained on the projier occasion. In the discharge of this trust I will only say, that I have, with good intentions, con- tributed toward the organization and administration of the government the best exertions of which a very fallible judgment was capalile. Not uncon- scious, in the outset, of the infcrioi-ity of my qualifications, exp)fcrience in my own eyes, perhaps stUl more in the eyes of others, has strengthened the motives to difiSdence of myself; and . every day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, that the shade of retirement is as ne- cessaiy to me as it will be welcome. Satisfied that if any circumstances have given peculiar value to my services, they were temporaiy, I have the con- solation to believe, that -nhile choice and p»rudence invite me to quit the po- litical scene, patriotism does not for- birize. But as it is easy to foresee, that from different causes and from different quar- tei-s, much pains will be taken, many artifices em{)loyed, to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth ; as this is the point in your political for- tress against which the batteries of internal and external enemies will be most constantly and actively, (though often covertly and insidiously,) direct- ed, 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 cherish a cordial, ha- bitual, and immovable attachment to it ; accustoming youreelves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your political safety and prosperity; watch- ing for its preservation M-ith jealous anxiety ; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in any event be abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon the fii-st dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link tofjether the various parts. " For this you have every inducement of sjTiipathy and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a common countiy, that countrj- has a right to concentrate your affections. The name of Ameri- can, which belongs to you in your national capacity, must always exalt the just pride of patriotism, more than any appellation derived from loeal dis- criminations. With slight shades of difference, you have the same religion, WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 239 1796. manners, habits, and political princi- ples. 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, suf- ferings, and successes. "But these considerations, however powerfully they addi'ess themselves to your sensibility, are greatly outweighed by those which apply more immediately to your interest. Here every portion of our countiy finds the most commanding motives for carefully guarding and preserving the union of the whole. " The north, in an unrestrained inter- course with the south, protected by the equal laws of a common government, finds in the productions of the latter, great additional resources of maritime and commercial enterprise, and precious materials of manufactui'ing industry. The south, in the same intercourse, ben- efiting by the agency of the north, sees its agriculture grow and its com- merce expand. Turning partly into its own channels the seamen of the north, it finds its particular navigation invigo- rated—and while it contributes, in dif- ferent ways, to nourish and increase the general mass of the national navigar tion, it looks forward to the protection of a maritime strength, to which itself is unequally adapted. The ea-^t, in lilce intercourse with the west, already finds, and in the progressive improvement of interior communications by land and water, will more and more find a valu- able vent for the commodities which it brings from abroad, or manufactures at home. The west derives from the east supplies requisite to its growth and comfort ; and, what Ls perhaps ot still greater consequence, it must of neces- sity owe the secure enjoyment of indis- pensable outlets for its own productions, to the weight, influence, and the future maritime strength of the Atlantic side of the Union, directed by an indissoluble community of interest as one nation. Any other tenure by which the we-st can hold this essential advantage, whether derived from its own separate strength, or from an apostate and un- natural connection with any foreign power, must be intrinsecally precaiious. "While, then, every part of our country thus feels an immediate and particular interest in union, all the parts combined cannot fail to find in the united mass of means and eftbrts, greater strength, greater resource, pro- portionably greater security from ex- ternal danger, a less frequent interrup- tion of their peace by foreign nations ; and, what is of inestimable value, they must derive fi'om union an exemption from those broils and wars between themselves which so frequently afflict neighboring countiies, not tied together by the same government ; which their own rivalships alone would be sufficient to produce, but which opposite foreign alliances, attachments, and intrigues, would stimulate and embitter. Hence likewise they will avoid the necessity of those overgi'own military establish- ments, which, under any form of gov- ernment, are inauspicious to liberty, and which are to be regarded as par- ticularly hostile to republican liberty. In this sense it is, that your union ought to be considered as a main pri)p 240 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 179<». of your liberty, and that the love of the one ought to endear to you the preservation of the other. "These considerations speak a per- suasive lancfuage to every roflocting and virtuous mind, and e.\liil)it the continuance of the Union as a primaiy object of patriotic desu-e. Is there a doul)t whether a common government can em])race so large a sphere? Let experience solve it. To listen to mere speculation in such a case were criminal. AVe are authorized to hope that a projier organization of the whole, with the auxiliary agency of governments for the respective subdi- visions, will afford a happy issue to the experiment. It is well worth a fair and full experiment. With such power- ful and obvious motives to union, affect- big all pai-ts of our country, while experience shall not have demonstrated its impracticability, there will always be reason to distrust the patriotism of those who, in any quarter, may endea- vor to weaken its bands. "In contemplating the causes which may disturb our union, it occurs as matter of serious concern, that any ground should have been furnished for characterizing parties by geograj)hical discriminations — northern and southern — Atlantic and western: whence de- signing men may endeavor to excite a belief that there is a real difference of local interests and views. One of the expedients of party to acquire influence, within particular districts, is to mis- represent the opinions and aims of other districts. You cannot shield yonrselve^ too much against the jeal- tmeies and heart-buniings which spring from these misrepresentations ; thej' tend to rendei- alien to each othi-r, those who ought to be bound together by fraternal affection. The inhal»itants of our westei-n country have lately had a useful lesson on this head. Tlicy have seen, in the negotiation by the executive, and in the unanimous ratifi- cation by the Senate, of the treaty with Spain, and in the univei-sal satisfaction at that event throughout the United States, a decisive proof how unfounded were the susj)icions propagated among them of a policy in the general govern- ment, and in the Atlantic states, im- frieudly to their interests in regard to the Mississipjn. They have been wit^ nesses to the formation of two ti-eaties, that with Great Biitain, and that with Spain, which secure to them eveiy/ thing they could desii-e, in respect to our foreign relations, towards confirm- ing their prosperity. "Will it not be their wisdom to rely for the preservar tion of these advantages on the Union by which they were procured ? Will they not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there are, who would sever them from their brethren, and connect them with aliens ? " To the efiicacy and permanency of your union, a government for the whole is indispensable. No alliances, however strict, between the parts can be an adequate substitute ; they must inevi- tably experience the infractions and intermptions which all alliances in all times have experienced. Sensible of this momentous truth, you have im- proved upon your fii-st essay, by the adoption of a constitution of govern- ment, better calculated than your for- WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 241 170G. raer, for an intimate union, and for the efficacious management of your common concerns. This government, the off- spring of our own choice, unin- fluenced and unawed ; adopted upon full investigation and mature deli})eratiou ; completely free in its princijjles; 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 confidence and your sup- port. Respect for its authority, com- pliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, are duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of true liberty. The basis of our political systems is the right of the people to make and to alter their constitutions of government. But the constitution which at any time ex- ists, until changed by an explicit and authentic act of the whole people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The veiy idea of the power and the right of the people to establish a government, pre- supposes the duty of every individual to obey the established government. "All obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combinations and asso- ciations, under whatever plausible char- acter, with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular deliberations and action of the consti- tuted authorities, are destructive of this fundamental principle, and of fiital tendency. They serve to organize fac- tion ; to give it an artificial and extrar ordinary force ; to put in the place of the delegated will of the nation, the will of a party, often a small, but artful and enterprising minority of the com- munity; and according to the alter- nate triumphs of different parties, to make the public administration the mirror of the Ul-concorted and incon- gruous projects of faction, rather than the organ of consistent and wholesome plans, digested by common councils, and modified by mutual interests. " However combinations or associa- tions of the above description may now and then aaswer popular ends, they are likely, in the coui-se of time and things, to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambitious, and unprin- cipled men, will be enabled to suVjvert the power of the people, and to usui'jt for themselves the reins of govern- ment; destroying afterwards the very engines which have lifted them to un- jast dominion. " Towards the preservation of your government, and the permanency of your present happy state, it is requisite not only that you steadily discounte- nance irregular oppositions to its ac- knowledged authority, but also that you resist with cai-e the spirit of inno- vation upon its principles, however spe- cious the pretexts. One method of as- sault may be to effect in the fonns of the Constitution altei'ations which will impair the energy of the system, and thus to undermine what cannot be di- rectly overthrown. In all the changes to which you may be in\ated, remem- ber that time and habit are at least jis necessary to fix the true characters of governments, as of other human insti- tutions — that experience is the surest standard, by which to test the real ten- dency of the existing constitution of a country — that facUity in changes upon the credit of mere hypothesis and opin- 242 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. ion, exposes to perpetual change from the endless variety of hypothesis and opinion ; and remember, espe- cially, that for the efficient management of your common interests, in a country so extensive as oui"s, a government of as much vigor as is con- sistent with the perfect security of lib- erty, is indispensable. Liberty itself will find in such a government, with powei-s properly distributed and ad- justed, its surest guardian. It is, in- deed, little else than a name, where the government is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of faction, to confine each member of the society within the limits prescribed by the laws, and to maintain all in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of person and property. " I have already intimated to you Ihe danger of parties in the state, with particular reference to the founding of them on geographical dLscriminji- tions. Let me now take a more com- prehensive view, and warn you in the most solemn manner against the bane- ful eftects of the spirit of party gener- ally. " This spirit, unfortunately, is insep- ai-able from our nature, having its root in the strongest pa.ssions of the human mind. It exists under difterent shapes in all governments, more or less stifled, controlled, or repressed; but in those of the popular form, it is seen in its greatest raukness, and is truly their worst enemy. "The alternate domination of one faction over another, sharpened by the B]iirit of revenge natural to party dis- sension, which in different ages and countries has j)erpetrated the most horrid enoi'niities, is itself a fiightful des])otisni. But this leads at length to a more formal and permanent des])otr ism. The disordei-s and miseries which result, gradually incline the minds of men to seek security and repose in the absolute power of an individual ; and sooner or later the chief of some pre- vailing faction, more able or more for- tunate than his competitore, turns this disposition to the purposes of his own elevation on the ruins of public liberty. " Without looking forward to an ex- tremity of this kind, (which neverthe- less ought not to be entirely out of sight,) the common and continual mis- chiefs of the sjiirit of party are suiB- cient to make it the interest and duty of a wise people to discourage and re- strain it. "It serves always to distract the public councils, and enfeeble the pul> lie administration. It agitates the com- munity with ill-founded jealousies and false alarms ; kindles the animosity of one part against another; foments occa- sional riot and insurrection. It opens the door to foreign influence and cor- ruption, which find a facilitated access to the government itself, through the channel of party passions. Thus the policy and the will of one country are subjected to the policy and will of an- other. "There is an opinion that parties in free countries are useful checks upon the administration of the government, and serve to keep alive the spirit of liberty. This, within ceiiain limits, is proba])ly true ; and in governments of a monarchical cast, patiiotism may look WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 2 43 with indulgence, if not -n'itli favor, upon tlie spirit of party. But in those of the popular character, in governments purely elective, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From then- natural tend- ency, it is certain there will always be enough of that spirit for every salutary purpose; and there being constant danger of excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to miti- gate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform vigi- lance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, instead of warming, it should consume. "It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free country should inspire caution, in those intrusted with its administration, to con- fine themselves within their re- spective constitutional spheres, avoid- ing in the exercise of the powers of one department to encroach upon an- other. The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the form of govern- ment, a real despotism. A just esti- mate of that love of power, and prone- ness to abuse it, which predominate in the human heart, is sufficient to satisfy us of the truth of this position. The necessity of reciprocal checks in the ex- ercise of political power, by di^ading and distributing it into different depos- itories, and constituting each the guar- dian of the public weal against inva- sions of the others, has been evinced by experiments ancient and modern ; some of them in our countrj^ and under our own eyes. To preserve them must bo as necessary' as to institute them. If, in the opinion of the people, the dis- tribution or modification of the consti- tutional powei-s be in any particular wrong, let it be corrected by au amend- ment in the way which the Constitu- tion designates. But let there be no change by usui-pation ; for though this, in one instance, may be the instrument of good, it is the customary weapon by which free governments are destroyed. The precedent must always greatly overbalance, in permanent evil, any par- tial or transient benefit which the use can at any time yield. " Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political prosperity, re- ligion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pil- lars of human happiness — these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their connections with private and public felicity. Let it shuply be asked, where is the security for prop- erty, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investiga- tion iu courts of justice ? And let us with caution indulge the supposition that morality can be maintained without re- ligion. Whatever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us to ex- pect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of religious principles. " It is substantially true, that virtue or morality is a necessary spring of 244 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. popular governruent. This rule in- deed extends with more or los-s force to every species of free government. Who that is a sincere friend to it can look with indiftiTonco upon attfuipts to shake the foundation of the fa])ric ? "Promote, then, as an object of pri- mary importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In proportion as the structure of a gov- ernment gives force to public opinion, it is essential that public opinion should be enhfjhtened. " As a very important source of strength and security, cherish public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as sparingly as possible, avoiding occasions of expense by culti- vating peace ; but remembering also, that timely disbursements to prepare for danger, frequently prevent much greater disbursements to repel it ; avoid- ing likewise the accumulation of debt, not only by shunning occasions of ex- pense, but by vigorous exertions in time of peace to discharge the debts which unavoidable wars may have oc- casioned, not ungenerously throwing upon posterity the burden which we ourselves ought to bear. The execu- tion of these maxims belongs to your representatives; but it is necessary that public opinion should co-operate. To facilitate to them the performance of their duty, it is essential that you should practically bear in mind, that towards the payment of debts there must be revenue ; that to have revenue there must be taxes ; that no taxes can be devised which are not more or less inconvenient and unpleasant ; that the intrinsic embarrassment inseparable 1796. from the selection of the jiroper olv jects, (which is always a choice of dif- ficulties,) ought to 1)6 a decisive motive for a candid construction of the con- duct of the government in making it, and for a spirit of ac(|uiosccncc in the measures for obtaining revenue, which the public exigencies may at any time dictate. "Observe good faith and justice to- wards all nations ; cultivate peace and harmony with all. Religion and moral- ity enjoin this conduct ; and can it be that good policy does not equally en- join it? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, and, at no distant period, a great nation, to give to mankind the magnanimous and too novel example of a people always guided by an ex- alted justice and benevolence. Who can doubt, that, in the course of time and things, tlie fruits of such a plan would richly repay any temporary advantages which might be lost by a steady adherence to it? Can it be, that Providence has not connected the ]ier- manent felicity of a nation with its vir- tue ? The experiment, at least, is re- commended by every sentiment which ennobles human nature. Alas ! it is rendered impossible by its vices. " In the execution of such a plan, nothing is more essential than that per^ mauent inveterate antipathies against particular nations, and ])assionate at- tachments for others, should be ex- cluded; and that in place of them, just and amicable feelings towards all should be cultivated. The nation which indulges towards another an habitual hatred, or an habitual fond- ness, is in some degree a slave. It is a WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS, 245 1796. slave to its animosity or to its affection, either of which Ls sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest. Antipathy in one na- tion against another disposes each more readily to offer insult and injury, to lay hold of slight causes of umbrage, and to be haughty and intractable when accidental or trifling occasions of dis- pute occur. "Hence frequent collisions, obsti- nate, envenomed, and bloody contests. The nation, prompted by ill-will and resentment, sometimes impels to war the government, contrary to the best calculations of policy. The govern- ment sometimes participates in the na- tional propensity, and adopts through passion, what reason would reject ; at other times it makes the animosity of the nation subservient to projects of hostility instigated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and pernicious mo- tives. The peace often, sometimes per- haps the liberty, of nations has been the victim. "So, likewise, a passionate attach- ment of one nation for another, pro- duces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favorite nation, facilitating the illusion of an imaginary common inter- est in cases where no real common in- terest exists, and infusing into one the enmities of the other, betrays the for- mer into a participation in the quan-els and wars of the latter, without adequate inducements or justification. It leads also to concessions to the favorite na- tion of privileges denied to others, which are apt doubly to injure the na- tion making the concessions, by unne- cessarily parting with what ought to have been retained; and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and a disposition to retaliate, in the parties from whom equal privileges are withheld; and it gives to ambitioas, corrupted, or de- luded citizens, (who devote themselves to the favorite nation,) facility to be- tray or sacrifice the interests of their own country, without odium, some- times even with popularity; gilding with the appearances of a virtuous sense of obligation to a commendaljle deference for public opinion, or a laud- able zeal for pubUc good, the base or foolish compliances of ambition, cor- ruption, or infatuation. "As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such attachments are particularly alarming to the truly en- lightened and independent patriot. How many opportunities do they af- ford to tamper with domestic factions, to practise the arts of seduction, to mislead public opinion, to influence or awe the public councils ! Such an at- tachment of a small or weak, towards a great and powerful nation, dooms the former to be the satellite of the latter. Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence, (I conjure you to believe me, fellow-citizens,) the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly awake ; since history and expenence prove, that foreign influence Is one of the most baneful foes of republican government. But that jealousy, to be useful, must be impartial ; else it becomes the in- strument of the very influence to be avoided, instead of a defence against it. Excessive partiality for one foreign nation, and excessive dislike of another, cause those whom they actu.ate to aeo 216 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 179«. danger only on one side, and serve to veil and even second the arts of in- fluence on the other. Real patriots, who may resist the intrigues of the fa- vorite, are liable to become suspected and odious ; while its tools and du])cs usurp the applause and confidence of the people, to surrender their inter- ests. "The great rule of conduct for us, in regard to foreign nations, is, in ex- tending our commercial rela- tions, to have with them as little political connection as possible. So far as we have already formed en- gagements, let them be fulfilled with perfect good faith. Here let us stop. "Europe has a set of primaiy in- terests, which to us have none, or a very remote, relation. Hence she must be engaged in frequent controvei-sies, the causes of which are essentially foreign to our concerns. Hence, there- fore, it must be unwise in us to impli- cate ourselves by artificial ties, in the ordinary %ncissitudes of her politics, or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her friendships or enmities. " Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us to pui-sue a dif- ferent course. If we remain one people, under an efficient government, the pe- riod is not far ofi^, when we may defy material injury from e.xternal annoy- ance ; when we may take such an atti- tude as will cause the neutrality we may at any time resolve upon, to be Bcrupulously respected ; when belliger- ent nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us, will not lightly hazard the giving us provoca- iion; when we may choose peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice, shall counsel. " Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation ? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, by interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, en- tangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice ? " It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances with any por- tion of the foreign world ; so far. I mean, as we are now at libeiiy to do it; for let me not be undei-stood as capable of patronizing infidelity to ex- isting engagements. I hold the maxim no less applicable to public than to private aftaii-s, that honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it, therefore, let those engagements 1)e observed in their genuine sense. But in my opin- ion, it is unnecessary, and would be un- wise, to extend them. "Taking care always to keep our- selves, by suitable estal)lishments, on a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust to temporary alliances for extraordinary emergencies. " Harmony, and a liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended ])y policy, humanity, and interest. But even our commercial policy should hold an equal and impartial hand ; neither seeking nor granting exclusive favors or preferences; consulting the natural course of things ; diflHising and diversLlNTng l)y gentle means, the streams of commerce, ])ut forcmg noth- ing; establishing, with powers so dis- posed, — in order to give trade a stable coui"se, to define the rights of our mer- WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. 247 chants, and to enable the government to support them, — conventional rules of intercourse, the best that present circumstances and mutual opinion will permit, but temporary, and liable to be from time to time abandoned or va- ried, as experience and circumstances Bhall dictate ; constantly keeping in view, that it is folly in one nation to look for disinterested fiivors from an- other ; that it must pay with a portion of its independence for whatever it may accept under that character ; that by such acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of having given equiv- alents for nominal favors, and yet of being reproached with ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater error than to expect or calcu- late upon real favors from nation to nation. It is an illusion which expe- rience must cure, which a just pride ought to discard. "In offering to you, my country- men, these counsels of an old and affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the strong and lasting impression I could wish ; that they will control the usual cur- rent of the passions, or prevent our nation from running the course which has hitherto marked the destiny of na- tions. But if I may even flatter my- self, that they may be productive of some partial benefit, some occasional good; that they may now and then recur to moderate the fury of party spirit; to warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue; to guard against the impostui'es of pretended patriot- ism; this hope will Vje a full recom- pense for the solicitude for your wel- fare, by which they have been dio- tated. "How far, in the discharge of ray official duties, I have been guided by the principles which have been delin- eated, the public records and other evidences of my conduct must witness to you and to the world. To myself, the assurance of my own conscience is, that I have at least believed myself to be guided by them. "In relation to the stiU subsisting war in Europe, my proclamation of the 22d of Aprd, 1793, is the index to my plan. Sanctioned by your approv- ing voice, and by that of your repre- sentatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit of that measure has continu- ally governed me ; uninfluenced by any attempts to deter or divert me from it. " After deliberate examination, with the aid of the best lights I could ob- tain, I was well satisfied that our coun- try, under all the circumstances of the case, had a right to take, and was bound in duty and interest to take, a neutral position. Having taken it, I determin- ed, as far as should depend upon me, to maintain it with moderation, persever- ance, and firmness. "The considerations which respect the right to hold this conduct, it is not necessary on this occasion to detail. I wUl only observe, that according to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far from being denied by any of the belligerent powers, has been virtually admitted by all. "The duty of holding a neutral con- duct may be inferred, without anything more, from the obligation wldch justice and humanity impose on every nation 249 WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL ADDRESS. in cases in which it is free to act, to inaintain in\iolato the relations of peace ami amity ti>\varils other nations. "The inducements of interest for observing that conduct will best be referred to yoiir own reflections and ex- perience. With nie, a predominant motive has been to endeavor to gain time to our country to settle and mature its yet recent institutions, and to pro- gress, without interruption, to that de- gree of strength and consistency, which is necessary to give it, humanly speak- ing, the command of its own fortunes. "Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am unconscious of intentional error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects not to think it probable that I may have conmiitted many errors. Whatever they may be, 1 fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope that my country \^^ll never cease to view them with indulgence ; and after forty-five years of my life dedicated to its service, with an up- right zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the man- sions of rest. " Relying on its kindness in this as in other thing.s, and actuated by that fer- vent 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 pleasing expectation that retreat, in which I promise myself to realize, without al- loy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws under a free government — the ever fovorite ob- ject of my heart, and the happy re- ward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers. " United States, Sept. 17, 1708. 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