,^^ -^^^ ,0o^ o5 -^ri.^^^ %^: Jy^ ^^ ■^. s'^' ,0^ ■^^: 4^'- <^^ '^c .A .ly"* ,0 o .^ ,% 'o 0' 1, A <5^ > oO" ^°'.*''^ '^^ \^^s^^,. ,•0- XV. .^ A' o , \ 1 ^^ A^ o\'' v O. '00 .^' .V' \'' / V' 'F^-?. X^ ^^, .■) N ,6^ .0^^ .x^^ '-;^^^^: rO' '^^ % .4>' •'■^l ' ^ X -^ V\ o ,-0' X .^^ -"^ ,x^ •"00^ "^^ V^ -oo^ ^^^ V^ ^ -v^ >y-'^. ,0 o X^^-,: > v'> /" = : ,>,^^' '^V-. ■n^;. ■ \ ^^ .^^ . '^ ■^^^ ^ f^ x° ^. ' '^^-'-^ 'c- c'o o\'' ,-'?- ,.0- ■^oo^ ,-.-^ X^^ f ' EECEPTION OF COLUMBUS BY FER1)J>,'AXD AND ISABKJ.BA. DECISIVE EVENTS IN THE STORY OF THE GREAT REPUBLIC HALF-HOURS WITH AMERICAN HISTORY SELECTED AND / EErtTED CHARLES^MORRIS AUTHOR OF " AN ELEMENTARY HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATES," " HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST AMERICAN AUTHORS," " HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST FOREIGN AUTHORS," " HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST HUMOROUS AUTHORS," " KING ARTHUR, AND THE KNIGHTS OF THE ROUND TABLE," ETC., ETC. 1- V ILLUSTRATED WITH FOUR COLORED PLATES AND THIRTY-TWO FULL-PAGE ENGRAVINGS PHILADELPHIA J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY I 89 I c,. OCT I?;o9! / 'U/ Copyright, 1886, by J. B. Lippincott Company. Copyright, 188", by J. B. Lippincott Company. Copyright, 1891, by J. B. Lippincott Company. En^ vJ\«'\'3 PREFACE. Of histories of America there exists an abundant store, some of them attempting to cover the whole period, others limited in scope, while many are devoted to some single topic of the varied panorama of national life. Some of these works are noted for brilliancy of style, others for conscientiousness in research, others as being written by participants in the events described, while to still others quaintness of manner or antiquity of dates gives a certain value. Yet few of them ai-e without unevenness of quality, and in history as in general literature authors often appear to most advantage in selected extracts from their works, since no man can always be at his best. It is of such choice extracts from a large number of authors that " Decisive Events in the Story of the Great Eepublic" is made up, the editor indulging in the hope that a work composed of carefully chosen selections from the most striking portions of numerous histories may prove to possess a value much beyond that of the production of any single author. The history of our country is certainly a subject of the highest interest and importance, and is here given in selections from works familiar and unfamiliar, man}^ of them being beyond the reach of general readers, while others are too volumi- nous for the taste and leisure of others than students of history. The extracts have been systematically treated, being arranged in chronological succession, divided into historical iv PREFACE. eras, and joined by connecting links of narrative in which the intermediate events are sketched. By this method of treatment the editor has succeeded in making his work not alone a series of selections from historians, but also a con- nected history of the settlement of America and of the colo- nial and national development of the United States. The selections have been confined to events of special interest or importance, many of them describing those striking and dramatic scenes which have become like household words to American readers. Events of minor importance have been passed over in rapid outline. Hence the numerous details of uninteresting incidents, to which historians are obliged to give a prominence little less marked than that devoted to the leading historical occurrences, and which readers often labor through with a sense of mental weari- ness, are here thrown into the background to which they naturally belong, while the foreground is occupied with detailed descriptions of events to which some particular interest attaches. A work thus arranged may be compared to a landscape, over whose dead levels the eye ranges with a rapid glance, while constrained to rest with attention upon its elevations or features of special attractiveness. In addition to the connecting links of narrative, and re- mai'ks introductory to historical eras, the editor has been obliged himself to furnish several more extended articles, through failure to find satisfactory brief statements of certain subjects, a treatment of which was necessary to the historical completeness of the work. Yet in these articles as in the others he acknowledges indebtedness to the labors of American historians, as he has simply pre- sented their facts and inferences in his own words. The work thus prepared is offei'ed to the public with the trust that it will be found to possess features of value and interest, and that it may be accepted by many as a more PREFACE. V satisfactory treatment of American history than are most of the works which seek to cover with full detail the entire field. The editor returns sincere thanks to the various authors whose names are given in the body of the work, and many of whom have with great courtesy granted him permission to use extracts from their copyrighted works ; and to the following publishers, to whom he is indebted for similar favors : Harper & Brothers, D. Appleton & Co., G. P. Put- nam's Sons, A. S. Barnes & Co., Charles Scribner's Sons, Dick & Fitzgerald, and Dodd, Mead & Co., of New York ; Little, Brown & Co., Ticknor & Co., and Houghton, Mifflin & Co., of Boston ; Porter & Coates and J. B. Lippincott Co., of Philadelphia ; American Publishing Co., and O. D. Case & Co., of Hartford ; Eobert Clarke & Co., of Cincin- nati ; and A. C. McClurg & Co., and Callaghan & Co., of Chicago ; also to the Massachusetts Historical Society. I* CONTENTS OF PART I. SECTION I. THE PERIOD BEFORE COLUMBUS. SUBJECT. AUTHOB. PAGE On the Origin of the Americans Hubert H. Bancroft .... 9 The Kingdom of Fusang S. AVells AVilliams .... 18 Discovery of America by the Northmen . Arthur J. Weise 22 The Aborigines of America Charles Morris 28 SECTION II. THE ERA OF DISCOVERY, Columbus in Europe William Robertson The Discovery of America by Columbus . Washington Irving The Discovery of the Pacific by Balboa . Thomas F. Gordon . Retreat of Cortes from the City of Mexico . William H. Prescott Hernando de Soto N. D'Anvers . . . The Discovery of the St. Lawrence . . . John McMullen . . The Massacre of the French Protestants . Walter Besant . . The Colonies of Sir Walter Raleigh . . . Mary Howitt . . . 40 49 61 69 80 89 97 105 SECTION III. THE ERA OF SETTLEMENT. Introductory Remarks John Smith and the Jamestown Colony . Charles Campbell The Indian Massacre in Virginia .... Robert. R. Howison The Settlement of Maryland J. Thomas Scharp The Landing of the Pilgrims John Gorham Palfrey Religious Dissensions in New England . William Robertson The Pequot AV^ar G. H. Hollister . . Champlain and the Iroquois Francis Parkman . The Settlement of New York E. B. O'Callaghan The Quaker Colony John Stoughton . . The " Grand Model" Government .... Hugh Williamson . Louisiana and the Natchez Le Page Du Pratz 114 116 130 138 145 154 162 172 182 193 203 208 Vlll CONTENTS OF PART I. SECTION IV. PROGRESS OF THE COLONIES. SUBJECT. AUTHOR. The Persecution of the Quakers James Grahame . . The Death of King Philip Benjamin Church . The Salem Witchcraft George Bancroft . The Tyrant of New England Benjamin Trumbull The Leisler Revolt in New York .... William Smith . . The Bacon Rebellion Charles Campbell Colonial Hostilities Francis X. Garneau The Spanish Invasion of Georgia .... William Bacon Stevens The Negro Plot in New York Mary L. Booth . . . . paqb 217 225 233 243 251 260 273 284 292 SECTION V. THE FRENCH AND Introductory Remarks The Opening of the War Braddock's Defeat The Battle at Lake George The Expulsion of the Aeadians Three Years of Warfare Wolfe and Montcalm at Quebec War with the Cherokees INDIAN WAR. 301 Jared Sparks 304 John Frost 313 Francis Parkman 322 James Hannay 333 Abiel Holmes 344 Washington Irving .... 355 Benjamin Trumbull .... 368 SECTION VI. THE THRESHOLD OP THE REVOLUTION. Political Development in America .... Charles Morris 380 England and her Colonies Mary Howitt 397 How the Stamp Act was received in America Richard Hildreth 406 A Parliamentary Examination Benjamin Franklin .... 414 The Growth of Discontent Henry Cabot Lodge .... 424 The Tea Tax and the Boston Port Bill . . James Grahame 431 The First Shots of the Revolution .... Thos. Wentworth Higginson. 444 The Battle of Bunker Hill William Cutter 450 Arnold on Lake Champlain Isaac N. Arnold 462 The Siege of Boston David Ramsay 472 The Continental Congress and its Doings . Edmund Ollier 480 America in 1776 Eugene Lawrence 495 The Declaration of Independence .... Thomas Jefferson 507 CONTENTS OF PART II. SECTION VII. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. SUBJECT. AUTHOR. PAQB Preliminary Remarks Charles Morris 7 TheCaptureof Long Island and New York. J. D. Steele 19 The Victory at Trenton Henry B. Carrington ... 27 The Capture of Philadelphia Charles Botta 38 The Expedition against Fort Schuyler . . Benson J. Lossing 48 The Surrender of Burgoyne Sir Edward S. Creasy ... 60 Washington at Valley Forge Washington Irving .... 73 Franklin in France .... Jared Sparks 82 The Bon Homme Richard and the Serapis. James Fenimore Cooper . . 94 The Treason of Arnold Jared Sparks 106 The Cowpens and Guilford Court-House . George Washington Greene. 117 The Surrender of Cornwallis Abiel Holmes 127 SECTION VIII. THE UNION FOUNDED AND SUSTAINED. The Army and Country after the War . . John Marshall 136 The Making of the Constitution .... Richard Frothingham . . . 147 The Whiskey Insurrection in Pennsyl- vania John C. Hamilton 161 The Pioneer of Kentucky John S. C. Abbott 169 War with the Western Indians James Steward 180 The Purchase of Louisiana John Bach McMaster . . . 189 Stephen Decatur and the Frigate Phila- delphia James Fenimore Cooper . . 201 The Chesapeake Affair and the Embargo . James Schouler 212 Two Years of War Charles Morris 221 The Constitution and the Guerriere . . . Joel T. Headley 226 Perry's Victory on Lake Erie Theodore Roosevelt .... 234 The Battle of the Thames Charles J. Ingersoll . . . 243 ix X CO A TENTS OF PART II. SUBJECT. AUTHOR. PAGE The Charge at Lundy's Lane H. M. Brackenridge .... 248 The Capture and Burning of Washington. Benson J. Lossing 260 The Defence of New Orleans George R. Gleig 272 SECTION IX. THE PROGRESS OF NATIONAL DEVELOPMENT. The First Quarter of the Century .... Charles Morris 286 The Missouri Compromise Herman E. von Holst . . . 305 The Ordinance of Nullification Edward Everett 317 The Seminole War George R. Fairbanks . . . 328 The Battle of Buena Vista John Frost 337 Events Preceding the Civil War .... Charles Morris ...'... 350 SECTION X. THE ERA OF CIVIL WAR. John Brown and the Raid upon Harper's Ferry Horace Greeley 363 Fort Sumter Bombarded Orville J. Victor 372 The Monitor and the Merrimack .... John W. Draper 383 The Conflict at Antietam Benson J. Lossing 392 The Battle of Shiloh William Swinton 407 Farragut on the Mississippi Joel T. Headley 426 The Siege of Vicksburg Adam Badeau 436 Lookout Mountain and Missionary Ridge* Thomas B. Van Horne . . . 452 Pickett's Charge at Gettysburg Comte de Paris 467 Sherman's March to the Sea AVilliam T. Sherman .... 482 The Last March of Lee's Army Armistead L. Long .... 500 Review of Recent History Charles Morris 520 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PART I. COLORED PLATES. Reception of Columbus by Ferdinand and Isabella Frontispiece. Penn's Treaty with the Indians page 199 PLATES. PAGE Ruins, Canon of Mangos 33 mThe Landing of Columbus 61 .The Landing of the Pilgrims 150 "jThe First Battle with the Iroquois 180 A Dutch Interior . 192 ■'The Oldest House in Germantown 202 Puritans GOING to Church 226 The Death of King Philip 231 vRuiNS OF THE OlD ChURCH-ToWER AT Jamestown .... 271 ■'Oglethorpe and the Indian Chiefs 285 "The Assault on Quebec 364 The Stamp-Act Riot at Boston » ■ • 409 House where the Tea-Plot was Hatched 435 The British Retreat from Concord 448 Reading the Declaration to the People 493 PART II. COLORED PLATES. George Washington Frontispiece. ■Washington Crossing the Delaware page 32 xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PLATES. \ PAGE 'Sergeant Jasper recovers the Flag 19 Washington's Head-Quarters at Morristown 37 ■ Bridge Crossed by Washington's Army 39 'An American Kifleman 51 The Flight of Arnold 115 'The House where Cornwallis Surrendered 134 Independence Hall, Philadelphia 150 The Capitol at Washington 190 Horseshoe Canon 199 Surrender of the Officers of the "Chesapeake" . . 216 The Battle of New Orleans 282 Osceola, the Seminole Chief 329 Early Home of Lincoln 374 vFoRT Sumter in Ruins 381 v'Antietam Creek 398 A Eailroad Battery 488 A Monitor and a Blockade-Runner 505 PART I. COLONIAL AMERICA, DECISIVE EVENTS • IN THE STORY OF THE GREAT REPUBLIC. • SECTION I. THE PERIOD BEFORE COLUMBUS. ON THE ORIGIN OF THE AMERICANS. HUBERT H, BANCROFT. [The written history of America begins with the year 1492, the date of the first voyage of Columbus to its previously-unknown shores. Yet there pertains to the preceding period a considerable variety of interesting material of a semi-historical character, — in part traditional, legendary, and speculative, in part based on researches into the lan- guages, race-characteristics, customs, and antiquities of the American, aborigines. Some attention to the abundant literature relating to this earlier epoch seems desirable as a preface to the recent history of America. This literature is in no proper sense American history , yet it is all we know of the existence of man upon this continent during the ages preceding the close of the fifteenth century. It is far too voluminous, and, as a rule, too speculative, to be dealt with otherwise than very briefly, yet it cannot properly be ignored in any work on the history of the American continent. The more speculative portion of this literature has been fully and ably treated by Hubert H. Ban- croft, in his "Native Kaces of the Pacific States," from which we 9 10 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Baxcrofi make our opening Half-Hour selection, lack of space, however, forbid- ding us from giving more than some brief extracts from his extended treatise on the subject.] When it first became known to Europe that a new continent had been discovered, the wise men, philosophers, and especially the learned ecclesiastics, were sorely per- plexed to account for such a discovery. A problem was placed before them, the solution of which was not to be found in the records of the ancients. On the contrary, it seemed that old-time traditions must give way, the infal- libility of revealed knowledge must be called in question, even the Holy Scriptures must be interpreted anew. Another world, upheaved, as it were, fro^ the depths of the sea of darkness, was suddenly placed before them. Strange races, speaking strange tongues, peopled the new land ; curious plants covered its surface ; animals unknown to science roamed through its immense forests ; vast seas separated it from the known world ; its boundaries were undefined ; its whole character veiled in obscurity. Such was the mystery that, without rule or precedent, they were now required to fathom. . . . When, therefore, the questions arose, whence were these new lands peopled? how came these strange animals and plants to exist on a continent cut off by vast oceans from the rest of the world? the wise men of the time unhesi- tatingly turned to the Sacred Scriptures for an answer. These left them no course but to believe that all mankind were descended from one pair. This was a premise that must by no means be disputed. The original home of the first pair was generally supposed to have been situated in Asia Minor ; the ancestors of the people found in the New World must consequently have originally come from the Old World, though at what time and by what route was an open question, an answer to which was diligently sought Banckoft] on the origin OF THE AMERICANS. 11 for both in the sacred prophecies and in the historical writings of antiquity. . . . Noah's ark, says XJlloa, gave rise to a number of such constructions, and the experience gained during the patri- arch's aimless voj^age emboldened his descendants to seek strange lands in the same manner. Driven to America and the neighboring islands by winds and currents, they found it difficult to return, and so remained and peopled the land. He thinks the custom of eating raw fish at the present day among some American tribes was acquired during these long sea-voyages. That they came by sea is evident, for the north — if indeed the continent be connected with the Old World — must be impassable by reason of extreme cold. Ulloa, though he would not for a moment allow that there could have been more than one general creation, does not attempt to account for the presence of strange animals and plants in America ; and I may observe here that this difficulty is similarly avoided by all writers of his class. Lescarbot cannot see why " Noah should have experienced any difficulty in reaching America by sea, when Solomon's ships made voyages lasting three 3'ears." Yillagutierre, on the contrary, thinks it more probable that Noah's sons came to America by land ; an opinion also held by Thompson, who believes, however, that the continents were not disconnected until some time after the flood, by which time America was peopled fi'om the Old World. [Many other writers have advocated this theory, basing their belief on the numerous deluge-myths which exist among the traditions of the American tribes, and which bear a certain resemblance to the Biblical story of the deluge, even in some cases describing the subse- quent building of a tower of refuge, and the disconcertion of the buildei-s in their impious act by the gods, or by the Great Spirit. Yet most modern writers consider these myths to have been of local origin. | 12 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft Let us now turn from these wild speculations, with which volumes might be filled, but which are practically worthless, to the special theories of origin, which are, however, for the most part, scarcely more satisfactory. Beginning with eastern Asia, we find that the Ameri- cans, or in some instances their civilization only, are sup- jDOsed to have come originally from China, Japan, India, Tartary, Polynesia. Three principal routes are proposed by which they may have come, — namely, Bering Strait, the Aleutian Islands, and Polynesia. The route taken by no means depends upon the original habitat of the immi- grants : thus, the people of India may have immigrated to the north of Asia, and grossed Bering Strait, or the Chi- nese may have passed from one to^he other of the Aleu- tian Islands until they reached the western continent. Bering Strait is, however, the most widely advocated, and perhaps most probable, line of communication. The nar- row strait would hardly hinder any migration either east or west, especially as it is frequently frozen over in winter. At all events, it is certain that from time immemorial con- stant intercourse has been kept up between the natives on either side of the strait ; indeed, there can be no doubt that they are one and the same people. Several writers, however, favor the Aleutian route. . . . The theory that America was peoj)led, or at least partly peopled, from eastern Asia, is certainly more widely ad- vocated than any other, and, in my opinion, is moreover based upon a more reasonable and logical foundation than any other. It is true, the Old "World may have been originally peopled from the iN'ew, and it is also true that the Americans may have had an autochthonic origin; but, if we must suppose that they have originated on another continent, then it is to Asia that we must first look for proofs of such an origiri, at least so far as the people of Bancroft] ON THE OHIO IN OF THE AMERICANS. 13 northwestern America are concerned. " It appears most evident to me," says the learned Humboldt, "that the monuments, methods of computing time, systems of cos- mogony, and many myths of America, offer striking anal- ogies with the ideas of eastern Asia, — analogies which in- dicate an ancient communication, and are not simply the result of that uniform condition in which all nations are found in the dawn of civilization." [Closely similar opinions are expressed by Prescott, Dr. Wilson, Colonel Smith, Dupaix, Tschudi, Gallatin, and other writers. In ad- dition to the theory of a Chinese settlement in the fifth century, which we shall consider subsequently, there are theories of Mongol and Japanese settlement.] In the thirteenth century the Mongol emperor Kublai Khan sent a formidable armament against Japan. The expedition failed, and the fleet was scattered by a violent tempest. Some of the ships, it is said, were cast upon the coast of Peru, and their crews are supposed to have founded the mighty empire of the Incas, conquered three centuries later by Pizarro. Mr. John Eanking, who leads the van of theorists in this direction, has written a goodly volume upon this subject, which certainly, if read by itself, ought to convince the reader as satisfactorily that America was settled by Mongols, as Kingsborough's work that it was reached by the Jews, or Jones's argument that the Tyrians had a hand in its civilization. That a Mongol fleet was sent against Japan, and that it was dispersed by a storm, is matter of history ; but that any of the dis- tressed shijjs were driven upon the coast of Peru can be but mere conjecture, since no news of such an arrival ever reached Asita. . . . A Japanese origin, or at least a strong infusion of Jap- anese blood, has been attributed to the tribes of the north- west coast. There is nothing improbable in this ; indeed, I. 2 14 AMERICAN HISTORY^ [Bancroft there is every reason to believe that on various occasions small parties of Japanese have reached the American con- tinent, have married the women of the country', and necessarily left the impress of their ideas and physical peculiarities upon their descendants. Probably these vis- its were all, without exception, accidental ; but that they have occurred in great numbers is certain. There have been a great many instances of Japanese junks drifting upon the American coast, many of them after having floated helplessly about for many months. Mr. Brooks gives forty-one particular instances of such wrecks, be- ginning in 1782, twenty-eight of which date since 1850. Only twelve of the whole number were deserted. In a majority of cases the survivors remained permanently at the place where the waves had brought them. There is DO record in existence of a Japanese woman having been saved from a wreck. The reasons for the jDresence of Japanese and the absence of Chinese junks are simple. There is a current of cold water setting from the Arctic Ocean south along the east coast of Asia, which drives all the Chinese wrecks south. The Kuro Siwo, or "black stream," commonly known as the Japan current, runs northward past the eastern coast of the Japan Islands, then curves round to the east and south, sweeping the whole west coast of North Amei'ica, a branch, or eddy, moving towards the Sandwich Islands. A drifting wreck would be carried towards the American coast at an average rate of ten miles a day by this current. . . . We may now consider that theory which supposes the civilized peoples of America to be of Eg^^ptian origin, or, at least, to have derived their arts and culture from Egypt, This supposition is based mainly on certain anal- ogies which have been thought to exist between the ar- chitecture, hieroglyphics, methods of computing time, and, Bancroft] ON THE ORIGIN OF THE AMERICANS. 15 to a less extent, customs of the two countries. Few of these analogies will, however, bear close investigation, and. even where they will, they can hardly be said to prove Hnything. . . . Turning now to western Asia, we find the honor of first settling America given to the adventurous Phoenicians. The sailors of Carthage are also supposed by some writers to have first reached the New World ; but, as the exploits of colony and mother-country are spoken of by most writers in the same breath, it will be the simplest plan to combine the two theories here. They are based on the fame of these people as colonizing navigators more than upon any actual resemblances that have been found to exist between them and the Americans. It is argued that their ships sailed beyond the Pillars of Hercules to the Canary Islands, and that such adventurous explorers having reached that point would be sure to seek farther. The records of their voyages and certain passages in the works of several of the writers of antiquity are supposed to show that the ancients knew of a land lying in the far west. . . . Diodorus Siculus relates that the Phoenicians discov- ered a large island in the Atlantic Ocean, beyond the Pil- lars of Hercules, several days' journey from the coast of Africa. This island abounded in all manner of riches. The soil was exceedingly fertile ; the scenery was diver- sified bj^ rivers, mountains, and forests. It was the cus- tom of the inhabitants to retire during the summer to magnificent country-houses, which stood in the midst of beautiful gardens. Fish and game were found in great abundance. The climate was delicious, and the trees bore fruit at all seasons of the year. The Phoenicians discovered this fortunate island by accident, being driven upon its coast by contrary winds. On their return they 16 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft gave glowing accounts of its beauty and fertility, and the Tyrians, who were also noted sailors, desired to col- onize it. [Several authors have believed these " Fortunate Islands" to be America, but in all probability they were the Canary Islands.] The theory that the Americans are of Jewish descent has been discussed more minutely and at greater length than any other. Its advocates, or at least those of them who have made original researches, are comparatively few ; but the extent of their investigations, and the multi- tude of parallelisms they adduce in support of their hy- pothesis, exceed by far any we have yet encountered. Of the earlier writers on this subject, Garcia is the most voluminous. Of modern theorists. Lord Kingsbor- ough stands pre-eminently first, as far as bulky volumes are concerned ; though Adair, who devotes half of a thick quarto to the subject, is by no means second to him in enthusiasm — or rather fanaticism — and wild speculation. [The idea advanced is that America was settled by the ten lost tribes of Israel, in support of which a multitude of similarities be- tween American and Jewish customs and characteristics are adduced, yet none of them sufficient to influence any cool-headed critic] We now come to the theory that the Americans, or at least part of them, are of Celtic origin. In the old "Welsh annals there is an account of a voyage made in the latter half of the twelfth century by one Madoc, a son of Owen Grwynedd, prince of North Wales. The story goes, that after the death of Gwynedd his sons contended vio- lently for the sovereignty. 'Madoc, who was the only peaceable one among them, determined to leave his dis- turbed country and sail in search of some unknown land where he might dwell in peace. He accordingly procured an abundance of provisions and a few ships, and embarked Baxcroft] on the origin OF THE AMERICANS. 17 with his friends and followers. For many months they sailed westward without finding a resting-place ; but at length they came to a large and fertile country, where, after sailing for some distance along the coast in search of a convenient landing-place, they disembarked and per- manently settled. After a time Madoe, with part of his companj', returned to Wales, where he fitted out ten ships with all manner of supplies, prevailed on a large number of bis countrymen to join him, and once more set sail for the new colony, which, though we hear no more about him or his settlement, he is supposed to have reached safely. . . . Claims have also been put in for an Irish discovery of the New World. St. Patrick is said to have sent mission- aries to the " Isles of America," and early writers have gravely discussed the probability of Quetzalcoatl [the Mexican white deity] having been an Irishman. There is no great improbability that the natives of Ireland may have reached, by accident or otherwise, the northeastern shores of the new continent in very early times, but there is certainly no evidence to prove that they did. [The evidences in favor of the several theories described by Mr. Bancroft, as presented by the many writers upon these subjects, are given by him in considerable detail, and their probability discussed, with the final conclusion that none of the theorists have succeeded in proving that the Americans were of Old- World origin, and that " no one at the present day can tell the origin of the Americans : they may have come from any one or from all the hypothetical sources enumer- ated in the foregoing pages, and here the question must rest until we have more light upon the subject." A brief reference to the Atlantis theory, omitted in our extract from Bancroft, is here in place. The story of a land that formerly lay in or beyond the Atlantic, and was subsequenth' submerged, is men- tioned by several Greek writers, and is said by Plutarch to have been communicated to Solon by the priests of several Egyptian cities. Ac- i.—l> 2* 18 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williams cording to Plato, these priests declared that the events related to Solon had taken place nine thousand Egyptian j^ears previously. In the Platonic version the priestly story was to the effect that beyond the Pillars of Hercules there was an island larger than Asia Minor and Libya combined. From this island one coifld pass to other islands, and thence to a continent which surrounded the sea containing them. In the island of Atlantis reigned three powerful kings, whose dominion extended to some of the other islands and to part of the continent, and reached at one time into Africa and Europe. Uniting their forces, they invaded eastern Europe, but were defeated and their army de- stroyed by the Athenians, independence being gained by all the subject countries east of the Pillars of Hercules. Afterwards, in one day and night, earthquakes and inundations overwhelmed Atlantis and sunk it Beneath the sea, which became impassable on account of the mud which the sunken island left in its place. The theory that there actually existed such an island, extending to the vicinity of, or perhaps continuous with, the American continent, has been held by several writers, principal among them being the Abbe Brasseur de Bourbourg. The recent advocacy of the theory is based on the fact that traditions and written records of cataclysms similar to that described by the Egyptian priests have been found among the American nations. Yet the story is in all probability one of those fabulous statements of which many can be found in the works of ancient writers.] THE KINGDOM OF FU-SANG. S. AVELLS AYILLIAMS. (Teanslation.) [In addition to the speculative theories above described are two his- torical documents of considerably more value, one given in the Chinese annals, and one in the Scandinavian literature, which appear to point to discoveries of America centuries before the era of Columbus, first by the Chinese, afterwards by the Northmen. The argument of several writers, that the Chinese discovered Amer- ica early in the Christian era, is based upon a curious historical state- Williams] THE KINGDOM OF FU-SANG. 19 ment in the works of Ma Twan-lin, one of the most notable of Chi- nese historians. It is professedly an extract from the official records of China, embracing a traveller's tale told in the year 499 a.d. by a Buddhist priest named Hwui Shin, on his return from ajournej'he had made to a country lying far to the east. This story seems to have been considered of sufficient importance to be recorded by the impe- rial historiographer, from whom Ma Twan-lin copied it. It describes tlie people and natural conditions of a country known as Fu-sang, and has given rise to considerable controversy, some writers asserting that Japan was the country visited, others claiming this honor for America. The literature of the subject is summed up in E. P. Vining's "An Inglorious Columbus," a recent work, in which the Chinese record is exhaustively reviewed, and the balance of proof shown to incline towards the American theory. Of the various translations of the Chinese record we present that of Professor S. Wells Williams, prefacing it with the statement of Li- yan-tcheou, the original historian, that in order to reach this distant country one must set out from the coast of the Chinese province of Leao-tong, to the north of Peking, reaching Japan after a journey of twelve thousand li. Thence a voyage of seven thousand li northward brings one to the country of Wen-shin. Five thousand li eastward from this place lies the country of Ta-han. From the latter place Fu-sang may be reached after a further voyage of twenty thousand li. (The li is a variable measure, ordinarily given as about one-third of a mile in length.)] In the first year of the reign Yung-yuen of the emperor Tung Hwan-hau, of the Tsi dynasty (a.d. 499), a Shaman priest named Hwui Shin arrived at King-chau from the Kingdom of Fu-sang. He related as follows : Fu-sang lies east of the Kingdom of Ta-han more than twenty thousand li ; it is also east of the Middle Kingdom [China]. It produces many fu-sang trees, from which it derives its name. The leaves of the fu-sang resemble those of the tung tree. It sprouts forth like the bamboo, and the people eat the shoots. Its fruit resembles the pear, but is red ; the bark is spun into cloth for dresses, and woven into brocade. The houses arc made of planks. 20 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williams There are no walled cities with gates. The (people) ui^e chai'acters and writing, making paper from the bark of ih.Q fu-sang . There are no mailed soldiers, for they do not carry on war. The law of the land prescribes a southern and a northern prison. Ci-iminals convicted of light crimes are put into the former, and those guilty of griev- ous oflfences into the latter. Criminals, when pardoned, are let out of the southern prison ; but those in the north- ern prison are not pardoned. Prisoners in the latter marry. Their boys become bondmen when eight j^ears old, and the girls bondwomen when nine years old. Con- victed prisoners are not allowed to leave their prison while alive. When a nobleman (or an official) has been convicted of crime, the great assembly of the nation meets and places the criminal in a hollow (or pit) ; the}' set a feast, with wine, before him, and then take leave of him. If the sentence is a capital one, at the time they separate they surround (the body) with ashes. For crimes of the first grade, the sentence involves only the person of the culprit ; for the second, it reaches the chil- dren and grandchildren; while the third extends to the seventh generation. The king of this country is termed yueh-ki ; the highest rank of nobles is called tui-li ; the next, little tui-li ; and the lowest, no-cha-sha. When the king goes abroad he is preceded and followed by drummers and trumpeters. The color of his robes varies with the years in the cycle containing the ten stems. It is azure in the first two years ; in the second two years it is red ; it is yellow in the third ; white in the fourth ; and black in the last two years. There are oxen with long horns, so long that they will hold things, — the biggest as much as five pecks. Vehicles are drawn by oxen, horses, and deer; for the people of that land rear deer just as the Chinese rear Williams] THE KINGDOM OF FUSANG. 21 cattle, and make cream of their milk. They have red pears, which will keep a year without spoiling; water- rushes and peaches are common. Iron is not found in the ground, though copper is ; they do not prize gold or silver, and trade is conducted without rent, duty, or fixed prices. In matters of marriage it is the law that the [intend- ing] son-in-law must erect a hut before the door of the girl's house, and must sprinkle and sweep the place morn- ing and evening for a whole year. If she then does not like him, she bids him depart ; but if she is pleased with him they are married. The bridal ceremonies are for the most part like those of China. A fast of seven days is observed for parents at their death ; five for grandparents ; and three days for brothers, sisters, uncles, or aunts. Images to represent their spirits are set up, before which they worship and pour out libations morning and evening; but they wear no mourning or fillets. The successor of the king does not attend personally to government affairs for the first three years. In olden times they knew nothing of the Buddhist religion, but during the reign Ta-ming of the emperor Hiao Wu-ti of the Lung dynasty (a.d. 458), from Ki-piu five beggar priests went there. They travelled over the kingdom, everywhere making known the laws, canons, and images of that faith. Priests of regular ordination were set apart among the natives, and the customs of the country became reformed. [In addition to this statement, the Chinese annals contain an account of the " Kingdom of Women," of the " Great Han country," and of the " Land of Marked (or Tattooed) Bodies," all related in situation to Fu-sang. That given, however, is the most matter-of-fact of these sev- eral narratives, and appears to describe an actual country, though its details do not tally very closely with the known conditions of either Japan or Mexico, which hitter country is believed by Mr. Yining to 22 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Weisb be the true Eu-sang. In his view the maguey represents the fu-sang tree, and he brings many analogies to bear in favor of his theorj', though the actual location of Fu-sang, like those of Atlantis, the Fortunate Islands, and Vinland, must always remain a matter of doubt and controversy.] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY THE NORTHMEN. ARTHUR J. WEISE. (Tkanslation.) [In considering the reputed discovery of America by the North- men we stand upon much firmer ground, and the story, though it has not been without dispute, is accepted by many writers as describing an actual event. In fact, it is of high probability on its face, since the daring navigators who successively sailed to and colonized Iceland and Greenland might very easily have made a farther voyage to the American continent. The Scandinavian vikings, in their single-masted, many-oared gal- leys, often ventured far out on the waters of the Atlantic, and in the year 860, Naddoddr, one of these .Norse pirates, was blown by an adverse wind upon the coast of Iceland. In 876 another navigator, driven beyond Iceland by a storm, saw in the distance the coast of an unknown land. About the year 981, Eric the Ked, an Icelandic outlaw, sailed in search of this land, and discovered a new country, which he named Greenland as an inducement to immigrants. The sagas or written legends of Iceland, which describe these events, relate that subsequent to the discovery of Greenland the vikings made frequent voyages to the south, to a land which had been discov- ered there by one Bjarni, and which received the name of Vinland. Some writers consider these stories as too vague and mythical to be of any value, while others accept them as containing definite and trust- worthy information concerning the eastern coast of America at that date. This new land is said to have been first discovered by Bjarni in 985, during a voyage from Iceland to Greenland. We select from "The Discoveries of America to the year 1525," by Ai-thur James Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 23 Weise, a translation of some of the more significant portions of these sagas.] As soon as they had fitted for the voyage, they intrusted themselves to the ocean, and made sail three days, until the land passed out of their sight from the water. But then the bearing breezes ceased to blow, and northern breezes and a fog succeeded. Then they were drifted about for many days and nights, not knowing whither they tended. After this the light of the sun was seen, and they were able to survey the regions of the sky. Now they carried sail, and steered this day before they beheld land. . . . [They] soon saw that the country was not mountainous, but covered with trees and diversified with little hills. . . . Then they sailed two days before they saw another land (or region). . . . They then ap- proached it, and saw that it was level and covered with trees. Then, the favorable wind having ceased blowing, the sailors said that it seemed to them that it would be well to land there, but Bjarni was unwilling to do so. . . . He bade them make sail, which was done. They turned the prow from the land, and sailed out into the ojjen sea, where for three daj's they had a favorable south-south- west wind. They saw a third land (or region), but it was high and mountainovis and covered with glaciei'S. . . . They did not lower sail, but holding their course along the shore they found it to be an island. Again they turned the stern against the land, and made sail for the high sea, having the same wind, which gradually increas- ing, Bjarni ordered the sails to be shortened, forbidding the use of more canvas than the ship and her outfit could conveniently bear. Thus they sailed for four days, when they saw a fourth land [which proved to be Greenland]. [The second voyage to this newly-discovered region was made by 24 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Weise Leif, the son of Eric the Ked, about the year 1000. He first reached a land of icy mountains, with a plain between the mountains and the sea covered with flat stones. This region Leif named Helluland. Afterwards he reached a level country covered with trees, which he named Markland.] [Leaving Markland] they sailed on the high sea, hav- ing a northeast wind, and were two days at sea befoi'e they saw land. They steered towards it. and touched the inland lying before the north part of the land. When they went on land they surveyed it. for by good fortune the weather was serene. They found the grass sprinkled with dew, and it happened by chance that they touched the dew with their hands and carried them to their mouths and perceived that it had a sweet taste which they had not before noticed. Then they returned to the ship and sailed through a bay lying between the island and a tongue of land running towards the north. Steering a course to the west shore, they passed the tongue of land. Here when the tide ebbed there were very narrow shoals. "When the ship got aground there were shallows of great extent between the vessel and the receded sea. So great was the desire of the men to go on land that they were unwilling to stay on board until the returning tide floated the ship. They went ashoi-e at a place where a river flowed out from a lake. When the tide floated the ship they took the boat and rowed to the vessel and brought her into the river and then into the lake. Here they anchored, carried the luggage from the ship, and built dwellings. Afterwards they held a consultation and re- solved to remain at this place during the winter. They erected large buildings. There were not onl}^ many salmon in the river, but also in the lake, and of a larger size than the}" had before seen. So great was the fertil- ity of the soil that they were led to believe that cattle Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 25 would not be in want of food during winter, or that wintrj^ coldness would prevail, or the grass wither much. [During the winter one of the men, named Tyrker, exploring the country, discovered wine-wood and wine-berries [vinvid ok vinbe?'). On the approach of spring they spent some time in gathering wine- berries and loading the ship with wood, after which they set sail for Greenland, Leif naming the region Vinland (Wine-land), from its productions. In the spring of 1007 an expedition comprising three ships sailed for this new land. In two days they reached Helluland, and in two more Markland. Departing from Markland, they continued their voyage.] The}" then bailed far to the southward along the coast, and came to a promontory. The land lay on the right, and had a long sandy beach. They rowed to it, and found on a tongue of land the keel of a ship. They called this point Kjlarnes (Keel Cape), and the beach Furdustrandir (Long Strand), for it took a long time to sail by it. Then the coast became sinuous. They then steered the ship into an inlet. King Olaf Tryggvason had given Leif two Scotch people, a man named Haki and a woman named Hekja. The}^ were swifter than animals. . . . When they had sailed past Furdustrandir they put these Scots ashore and ordered them to run to the south of the country and explore it and return within three days. . . . They Avere absent the designated time. When they returned, one brought a bunch of wine-berries, the other an ear of wheat. When they were taken on board the ship sailed farther. They came into a bay where there was an island around which flowed rapid currents that suggested the name which they gave it, Straumey (Stream Island). There were so many eider ducks on the island that one could hardly walk about without stepping on their eggs. They took the cargo from the I.— B 3 26 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Weise ship and made preparations to stay there. They had with them different kinds of cattle. It is now to be told of Karlsefne that he, with Snorro and Bjarni and their people, sailed southward along the coast. They sailed a long time, till they came to a river which ran out from the land and through a lake into the sea. The river was quite shallow, and no ship could enter it w^ithout high water. Karlsefne sailed with his peojjle into its mouth, and called the place Hop. He found fields of wild wheat where the ground was low, and wine-wood where it was higher. There was a great number of all kinds of wild animals in the woods. They remained at this place a half month, and enjoyed them- selves, but did not find anything novel. They had their cattle with them. Early one morning, when they were viewing the country, they saw a great number of skin boats on the sea. . . . The people in them rowed nearer and with curiosity gazed at them. . . . These people were swart and ugly, and had coarse hair, large eyes, and broad cheeks. They remained a short time and watched Karlsefne's people. They then rowed away to the south- ward beyond the cape. [In the spring the natives returned and trafficked with the Noi'th- men.] The people prefen'ed red cloth, and for this they gave skins and all kinds of furs. They also wanted to pur- chase swords and spears, but Karlsefne and Snorro would not sell them any weapons. For a whole skin the Skrae- lings took a piece of red cloth a span long, and bound it arouTid their heads. In this way they bartered for a time. Then the cloth began to diminish, and Karlsefne and his men cut it into small strips not wider than one's finger, Weise] discovery OF AMERICA BY NORTHMEN. 27 and still the Skraelings gave as much for these as they had for the larger pieces, and often more. It happened that a bull, which Karlsefne had with him, ran out from the wood and bellowed loudly. This frightened the Skraelings so much that they rushed to their boats and rowed away to the southward around the coast. ♦ [Three weeks afterwai'ds a large number of Skraelings returned in their boats, uttering loud cries.] Karlsefne's men took a red shield and held it towards them. The Skraelings leaped from their boats and at- tacked them. Many missiles fell among them, for the Skraelings used slings. Karlsefne's men saw that they had raised on a pole something resembling an air-filled bag of a blue color. They hurled this at Karlsefne's party, and when it fell to the ground it exploded with a loud noise. This frightened Karlsefne and his men so much that they ran and fell back to the river, for it seemed to them that the Skraelings were enclosing them on all sides. They did not stop till they reached a rocky place, where they stoutly resisted their assailants. [The Skraelings were finally frightened ofl' by the valiant behavior of Freydis, the wife of Thorvard.] Karlsefne and his men now perceived that, notwith- standing the country was fruitful, they would be exposed to many dangerous incursions of its inhabitants if they should remain in it. They therefore determined to de- part and return to their own land. [Many subsequent visits were made by the Northmen to Vinland, these continuing as late as the fourteenth century. But they seem to have made no efi"ort to colonize this region as they had done in the cases of Iceland and Greenland. Just where Vinland was situated is one of those geographical pi-oblems that will probably never be settled. 28 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris Some writers place it as far south as the coast of Khode Ishmd. Others conceive it to be no farther south than Labrador, or possibly south Greenland. The description of the Skraelings is considered to apply more closely to the Esquimaux than to the North American Indians. Whether the so-called wine-berries were actually grapes is questionable. In fact, no positive proof exists that the Northmen dis- covered the continent of America. The balance of probabilities is that they did so, though how far south their excursions extended can never be definitely decided.] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. CHARLES MOERIS. [The preceding pages have been devoted to the history of the rela- tions between the inhabitants of the Eastern and "Western Continents, and to the various statements that indicate a possible knowledge of, and voj^ages to, America in the era before Columbus. To complete this preliminary survey a brief account of what is known of the Ameri- can aborigines in this early era is necessary. In relation to this period of American history there exists an abundance of literary material, comprising researches into the languages, race-conditions, customs, an- tiquities, traditions, and manuscript annals of the tribes and nations of the aborigines. None of this material is historical in the full sense of the term, though much of it may be considered as indirectly so. The editor of this work, however, has been unable to meet with any general statement in a form sufficiently condensed to yield a brief yet comprehensive review of the whole subject. He has, therefore, him- self prepared a paper which may serve imperfectly to fill this vacancy, and to complete the examination of the history of America prior to Columbus.] On the discovery and exploration of America it was found to be everywhere inhabited, from the north polar region to the extreme south, by peoples differing in de- gree of culture from abject savagery to a low stage of Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 29 civilization. Though at first all these peoples were looked uj)on as members of a single race, later research has ren- dered this questionable, marked diversities in ethnological character having been perceived. In language a greater unity appears, philologists generally holding that the American languages all belong to one family of human speech, though the dialects differ widely in character and in degree of development. The American languages ap- proach in type those of northern Asia, though not very closely. The same may be said of the American features. Yet if the Americans and Mongolians were originally of the same race, as seems not improbable, their separation must have taken place at a remote period, to judge from the diversities which now exist between them. The aboriginal inhabitants of the United States, when first discovered, differed very considerably in political and social condition. Those of the north were in a state of savagely or low barbarism. The southern Indians were much more advanced politically, while the Natchez people of the lower Mississippi possessed a well-organized despotic monarchy, widely different in character from the Institutions of the free ti'ibes of the north. In Mexico existed a powerful civilized empire, despotic in charactei', possessed of many historical traditions, and having an extensive literature, which was nearly all destroyed by the Spanish conquerors. In this region were tw^o distinct linguistic races, the l^ahuas of Mexico and the Mayas of the more southern region. To the latter are due the re- markable architectural remains of Yucatan and Guate- mala. In South America was also discovered an exten- sive civilized empire, of a highly-marked despotic type, — the Inca empire of Peru. This rather low form of civil- ization extended far to the north and south in the dis- trict west of the Andes, while the remainder of South I. 3* 30 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris America was occupied by savage tribes, some of tbem exceedingly debased in condition. Of late 3^ears it bas been made evident, tbrougb diversi- fied arcbffiological discoveries, tbat at some epocb, perhaps not very remote, the whole region of the Mississippi Valley was the seat of a semi-civilized population, probably some- what closely approaching in customs and condition the inhabitants of the Gulf States when first seen by the Spanish and French explorers. This people had utterly vanished from the region of the northern United States at the earliest date of the advent of the whites, and per- haps many centuries before that era ; yet the whole region of their former residence is so abundantly covered with their weapons, utensils, ornaments, and architectural re- mains, that we are not only positively assured of their former existence, but ai'e enabled also to form many con- jectures as to their probable history. What are here spoken of as architectural remains con- sist principally of earth mounds, of considerable diversity in character and appearance, and some of them of enor- mous dimensions. There is in this fact alone nothing of peculiar interest. Earth mounds, generally sepulchral in purj^ose, exist widely throughout the older continents. But the American mounds are remarkable for their ex- cessive numbers, their peculiarities of construction, their occasional gi*eat size, and the diversity of their probable purpose. They are found abundantly over the whole re- gion from the Rocky Mountains to the Alleghanies, and from the Great Lakes to the Gulf, and to some small extent beyond these limits. In the State of Ohio alone there are said to be more than ten thousand mounds, with perhaps fifteen hundi-ed defensive works and enclosures. About five thousand of them are said to exist within a radius of fifty miles from the mouth of the Illinois River, Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 31 in the State of Illinois. In the South they are equally abundant. The Gulf States are full of them. From Florida to Texas they everywhere exist, of the greatest diversity in size and shape. Smaller examples occur be- yond the limits of the region above outlined, though in much less abundance. These mounds are usually from six to thirty feet high and forty to one hundred in di- ameter, though some are much larger. To the vanished race to whose labors they are due has been given the name of the " Mound-Builders." Many of these structures were evidentl}^ erected for de- fensive purposes, and they constitute an extensive system of earthworks on the hills and river-bluffs, indicating a considerable population in the valleys beloAV. Other Avorks are remarkably regular earthworks on the valley levels, forming enclosures in various geometrical patterns, which comj^rise circles, squares, and other figures. The purpose of these peculiar enclosures is unknown, though it was probably connected with religious observances. Of the smaller mounds, some are supposed to have been used as altars ; but the most numerous class are the burial- mounds, in which skeletons have often been found. In Wisconsin, and to some extent elsewhere, are found mounds rudely imitating the shape of animals. But the most extraordinary of these erections, from their great size and the enormous degree of labor which they indicate, are the so-called "temple mounds," of which the one at Cahokia, Illinois, measures seven hundred by five hundred feet at base and ninety feet in perpendicular height. It was probably the seat of a temple. Many similar mounds, though none so large as this, exist in the Gulf States. The mounds contain very numerous relics of the arts of their builders, these consisting of various articles of pottery, stone pipes of highly-skilful construction, in imi- 32 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris tation of animal forms, stone implements in great variety, ornaments of beaten copper, pearls, plates of mica, frag- ments of woven fabrics, and otber articles, indicative of much industry and a considerable advance in the simpler arts. Whether the semi-civilization of this people developed in the region in w^hich their remains are found, or is due to the northward movement of a civilized people from the south, cannot be decided. That they were a numerous agricultural people, under the control of a despotic gov- ernment, and of strong religious superstitions, seems evi- dent from the vast labors which they performed and the religious purpose of the greatest of these works. There is abundant reason to believe that they were in hostile relations with ti'ibes of savages, perhaps the original inhabitants of the country, to the northward and east- ward. Against the assaults of these the earthworks were built. These assaults were finally Successful. The '"Mound- Builders" were conquered, and either annihilated or, more probably, driven south. It is highly improbable that they constituted a single empire, or a series of extensive gov- ernments. We may more safely consider them as a con- geries of sti'ong tribal organizations, probably to some extent mutually hostile, who were weakened by intestine wars and conquered piecemeal by their numerous and per- sistent savage foes. Before considering the political and other relations of the northern Indians, some reference may be made to the architectural remains of the other aborigines of America. Remarkable ruins exist in the mountain-region of the west, in parts of Colorado, New Mexico, Utah, Arizona, and northern Mexico. Principal among these are the Pueblo buildings, huge communistic structures, of sev- eral stories in height, and some of them capable of shelter- w- '^^ '"-z^y^"^ RUINS, CASON of MANCOS. Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 33 ing'a whole tribe within their very numerous apartments Of these edifices some are of adobe, others of stone. They are probably of considerable antiquity, and most of them are in ruins, though several are still inhabited. Still more remarkable are the " cliff dwellings," recently discovered in the rivei'-caiions of this region. These exist at con- siderable heights, occasionally as much as six hundred to eight hundred feet, in almost inaccessible situations in per- pendicular cliffs, in which they occupy clefts or natural terraces. They were doubtless intended as places of refuge from dangerous foes, though they occur in locali- ties now so barren that it is not easy to perceive how their inhabitants obtained subsistence. The architectural remains of Mexico, Central America, and Peru are far too numerous and important to be described in the brief space at our command. Some of the more imposing of those of Mexico are pyramidal mounds, not unlike the temple mounds of the north, though occa- sionally much larger. Of these the most extensive is the great pyramid of Cholula, which covers twice the area of the great Egyptian pyramid of Cheops. The height is variously estimated at one hundred and seventy-seven to two hundred and five feet. This huge structure is built of small sun-dried bricks, alternated with layers of clay. It may have been moulded on a natural eminence, though this is doubtful. The temple of the deity Quetzalcoatl, which once occupied its summit, was destroyed by the Spanish invadei'S. In Yucatan, Chiapas, Honduras, and Guatemala have been found the ruins of enormous and profusely-sculptured stone edifices, built on truncated pyramids, of which that of Palenque measures two hundred and sixty by three hundred and ten feet, and is forty feet high. Its sides were originally faced with cut stone, while the building I. — c 34 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris displays a considerable advance in the arts of architecture and sculpture. Numerous other such structures exist, which display great boldness and skill in architecture. As to who built these forest-buried edifices no positive knowledge exists, though there is some reason to believe that they were still in use, and surrounded by cities, at the epoch of the Spanish conquest. With the ruins of Peruvian art we are less directly concerned. It will sufiice to remark that they ai^e not surpassed in boldness of execution, in the great labor indicated, and in practicality of purpose, by any similar erections on the Eastern continent. Many of these works are very ancient, having been built by a people who occu- pied that region anterior to the origin of the Inca empire. In this respect they agree with the architectural monu- ments of Mexico, which were attributed by the Aztecs to the Toltecs, a mythical race who preceded them. All this indicates not only a very considerable antiquity in the civilization of this continent, but a general overthrow of the primary civilizations, the Mound-Builders being re- placed by the modern Indian tribes in the north, the builders of the Mexican monuments by the more bar- barous Aztecs, and the architects of the early works of Peru by the conquering Inca race. The Indian tribes of the northern United States, at the advent of the whites, were found in a state of savagery in some particulars, though their political and social in- stitutions may be classed as barbarian. Though usually considered as hunting tribes, they were in reality largely agricultural, and not unlike the ancient Germans in or- ganization. They were communistic in habit, holding their lands, and to some extent their houses, as common property. The tribes were divided into smaller sections on the basis of family affinity, and governed by two sets Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 35 of elected officers, — the war-chiefs, selected for their valor, and the Sachems, or peace-officers, whose office was to a considerable extent hereditary. In the election of these officers the whole tribe took part, women as well as men having a vote. The religion of these tribes was of a low type, being a Shamanism of the same character as that of the Mongolian tribes of northern Asia. Demon-exor- cising "medicine-men" wei-e the priests of the tribes, and the conception of a supreme '' Great Spirit," which has been attributed to them, was possibly derived from early intercourse with the whites, though it may have been an inheritance from the Mound-Builders. The Indians of the southern United States, comprising the Creek confederacy and other tribes, were considerably more advanced in institutions and ideas. With them agriculture had attained an important development, and the lands were divided into fields on a communistic basis, they remaining the property of the tribe, though culti- vated by separate families. The government was in the hands of a council of the principal chiefs, presided over by an officer called the Mico, corresponding to the Sachem of the north. His dignity was hereditary, and his power to some extent despotic. Warlike matters were controlled by a head chief, under whom were inferior chiefs. These chiefs were elected to their positions, and composed the council presided over by the Mico, whose authority was subject to their control. One peculiar feature of the Creek organization was the possession of a public store- house, in which a portion of all products of the field and the chase had to be stored, for general distribution in case of need. This was under the sole control of the Mico. The religious ideas were much superior to those of the northern tribes. Shamanistic worshij^ and the medicine-man existed, but in addition to this there was a well-developed 36 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris system of sun-worship, with its temples, priests, and cere- monies. The sacred fire was preserved with the greatest assiduity, and when extinguished at the close of each year, to be rekindled with " new fire," serious calamities were feared. The Mico was looked upon as a high dignitary in this worship, and as, in some sort, a representative of the sun. The degree of despotism which he exercised was very probably in great measure due to this religious dig- nity and the superstition of the people. But the most remarkable of the Indians of the United States was the small tribe of the Natchez, occupying a few villages east of the Mississippi at the period of Span- ish and French discovery, and long since extinct. The lan- guage of this tribe is believed to have been quite unlike those of the neighboring tribes. Its political organization was a well-developed despotism, the ruler being a religious autocrat whose authority was beyond question. This dig- nitary was known as the Sun, and was looked ujDon as a dii'ect and sacred descendant of the solar deity. All mem- bers of the royal caste were called Suns, and had special privileges. Beneath them was a nobility, while the com- mon people were very submissive. The chiefs' dwellings were on mounds, and the mounds were also the seat of temples, in which the sacred fire was guarded with super- stitious care by the priesthood. La Salle, who visited the Natchez in 1681-82, describes them as living in large adobe dwellings. The temple of the sun was adorned with the figures of three eagles, with their heads turned to the east. The Natchez possessed a completely-organized system of worship, with temples, idols, pi"iests, keepers of sacred things, religious festivals, and the like, while the people were thoroughly'' under the control of their superstitions. The ruler had the power of life and death over the people, as also had his nearest female relative, who was known Morris] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 37 as the Woman Chief, and whose son succeeded to the throne. The extinguishment of the sacred fire in the temples was deemed the greatest calamity that could be- fall them. The death of the Sun cost the life of his guaixls and many of his subjects, while few of the principal per- sons died without human sacrifices. Captives taken in war were sacrificed to the sun, and their skulls displayed on the temples. The customs and religious ceremonies of this tribe are of particular interest, as there is reason to believe that in the Natchez we have the most direct descendants of the Mound-Builders, and that in the despotism of their chief and the superstition of the people there survived until historical times the conditions under which the great works of the Mississippi Valley were erected. The de- struction of the tribe by the earlj'' French colonists has been a serious loss to archseological science. It is believed by some writers that the Mexican civiliza- tion was a direct development of that of the Mound-Build- ers. Among the peoples of Mexico and Central America traditions of an original migration from the north were common, while the affinity between the customs and re- ligious ideas of the Aztecs and the Indians of the south- ern United States was so great that the civilization of the former may with some assurance be considered an out- growth from the semi-civilization of the latter. Land-communism was the general practice in Mexico, and the Creek public storehouse, under the control of the Mico, was imitated by the Aztec public stores, under the control of the emperor, in which a fixed portion of all prod- uce had to be placed. The Creek council of chiefs and elders was represented by a similar council in Mexico, by whose decisions the emperor was controlled. Worship of the sun was an early form of the Mexican religious ideas, I. 4 38 AMERICAN HISTORY. [MoRRia though it was afterwards replaced by worship of the god of war. Human sacrifice had grown to enoi-mous pi'o- portions, and the sacrifice of war-captives by the Natchez had its Aztec counterpai't in vast warlike raids for the purpose of obtaining victims for sacrifice to the terrible war-god. The sacred fire was guarded with the utmost care, and dire calamities were predicted if it should be extinguished. It was voluntarily extinguished once every fifty-two years; and rekindled after a week of lamentation and mortal dread. The passage of the " new fire" through the country was the occasion of universal joy and festivity. "We have already indicated the resemblance between the temple mounds of the two regions, and other points of affinity might be named, but the above will suffice to show the great probability that the civilization of the Missis- sippi Yalley and that of Mexico and Central America were directly connected and formed parts of one general growth of American culture. As for the actual histor}- of the aborigines prior to the advent of the whites, very little is known. Numerous legends and traditions exist, though few of these can be considered of historical authenticit}'. The Indians of the United States, indeed, possess no rec- ords that can be accepted as historical. What seem most so are stories of migrations ; yet none of these can be taken as representative of actual events, but are rather to be viewed as vague remembrances of some of the many movements which must have taken place. The only traditions that are to any extent historical are those of the Nahuas and Mayas of Mexico and Cen- tral America. These descinbe the movements, during a number of centuries preceding the Spanish conquest, of several successive peoples, as the Toltecs, the Chichimecs, and the Aztecs of Mexico, and a parallel series in the Maya region. Extensive details of the history of these MoKRis] THE ABORIGINES OF AMERICA. 39 and other tribes are given, much of which is undoubtedly authentic, yet the actual is so mingled with the mythical in these records that no trust can be placed in any but their latest portions, and even these are not to be accepted without question. The traditions of migrations from the north and east are so generally reiterated that they seem to indicate actual events, and the same may be said of the very com- mon tradition of the coming of a great hero or deity from the east, the Quetzalcoatl of the Aztecs, the Votan of the Mayas, and similar deities of other tribes. These are fabled to have brought civilization and taught habits of industry and lessons of political subordination to the previously uncultured tribes. They may represent the actual advent of civilized navigators from Europe or else- where, though this is a pi"oblem that can never be solved. Much might here be said concerning the historical rec- ords of the JSTahuas and Mayas, had we space to review them, yet a consideration of the whole leads to the con- clusion above avowed, that the American aborigines had no records that can be considered absolutely of historical value previous to the discovery of America by Columbus. We may, therefore, look upon their trustworthy history as beginning with that event, since in their earlier records it is impossible to distinguish between the mythical and the actual. 40 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson SECTION II. THE ERA OF DISCOVERY. COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. WILLIAM ROBERTSON. [From the age of Phoenician enterprise to the fifteenth century of the Christian era, covering a period of more than two thousand j-ears, maritime enterprise in Europe lagged, and the boldness of the ancients was emulated by none of their successors. The Mediterranean long sontinued the theatre of commerce. In later years, in which the Atlantic coast became the seat of an active sea-going trade, the only sailors who ventured far out of sight of land were the half-barbarous Scandinavian pirates. A bolder spirit appeared in the discovery of the Canary Islands by Spanish navigators in 1334. No further step in discovery was made until 1419, when the Portuguese discovered the Madeira Islands. The Portuguese from this time developed a new spirit of enterprise, and advanced point by point along the coast of Africa until 1486, in which year Bartholomew Diaz discovered the Cape of Good Hope. This event rendered it evident to the experienced sailors of Portugal that Africa could be circumnavigated and the East Indies reached by this route. While preparations were being made for the important voyage which should prove the truth of this theory, a yet more im- portant event occurred, in the discovery of America by Columbus. The steps leading to this great enterprise we may give in the words of a noted historical work of the last century, " The History of America," by "William Kobertson.] Among the foreigners whom the fame of the discoveries ma.de by the Portuguese had allured into their service Robertson] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 41 was Christopher Colon or Columbus, a subject of the re- public of Genoa. Neither the time nor place of his birth are known with certainty ; but he was descended of an honorable family, though reduced to indigence by various misfortunes. His ancestors having betaken themselves for subsistence to a seafaring life, Columbus discovered, in his early youth, the peculiar character and talents which mark out a man for that profession. His parents, instead of thwarting this original propensity of his mind, seem to have encouraged and confirmed it by the educa- tion which they gave him. After acquiring some knowl- edge of the Latin tongue, the only language in which science was taught at that time, he was instructed in geometry, cosmography, astronomy, and the art of draw- ing. To these he applied with such ardor and predilec- tion, on account of their connection with navigation, his favorite object, that he advanced with rapid proficiency in the study of them. Thus qualified, he went to sea at the age of fourteen (1461), and began his career on that element which conducted him to so much glory. His early voyages were to those ports in the Mediterranean which his countrymen the Genoese frequented. This being a sphere too narrow for his active mind, he made an excursion to the northern seas (1467), and visited the coasts of Iceland, to which the English and other nations had begun to resort on account of its fishery. As naviga- tion, in every direction, was now become enterprising, he proceeded beyond that island, the Thule of the ancients, and advanced several degrees within the polar circle. Having satisfied his curiosity by a voyage which tended more to enlarge his knowledge of naval afi'aii's than to improve his fortune, he entered into the service of a famous sea-captain, of his own name and family. This man commanded a small squadron, fitted out at his own I. i* 42 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson expense, and by cruising sometimes against the Mahom- etans, sometimes against the Venetians, the rivals of his country in trade, had acquired both wealth and reputa- tion. With him Columbus continued for several years, no less distinguished for his courage than for his experi- ence as a sailor. At length, in an obstinate engagement, off the coast of Portugal, with some Venetian caravels returning richly laden from the Low Countries, the vessel on board which he served took fire, together with one of the enemy's ships, to which it was fast grappled. In this dreadful extremity his intrepidity and presence of mind did not forsake him. He threw himself into the sea, laid hold of a floating oar, and by the support of it, and his dexterity in swimming, he reached the shore, though above two leagues distant, and saved a life reserved for great undertakings. As soon as he recovered strength for the journey, he repaired to Lisbon, where many of his countrymen were settled. They soon conceived such a favorable opinion of his merit, as well as talents, that they warmly solicited him to remain in that kingdom, whei*e his naval skill and experience could not fail of rendering him conspicuous. To every adventurer, animated either with curiosity to visit new countries, or with ambition to distinguish him- self, the Portuguese service was at that time extremely inviting. Columbus listened with a favorable ear to the advice of his friends, and, having gained the esteem of a Portuguese lady, whom he married, fixed his residence in Lisbon. This alliance, instead of detaching him from a seafaring life, contributed to enlarge the sphere of his naval knowledge, and to excite a desire of extending it still further. His wife was a daughter of Bartholomew Perestrello, one of the captains employed by Prince Henry in his early navigations, and who, under his pro- Robertson] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 43 tection, had discovered and planted the islands of Porto Santo and Madeira. Columbus got possession of the journals and charts of this experienced navigator, and fi-oin them he learned the course which the Portuguese had held in making their discoveries, as well as the various circumstances which guided or encouraged them in their attempts. The study of these soothed and in- flamed his favorite passion ; and while he contemplated the maps, and read the descriptions of the new countries which Perestrello had seen, his impatience to visit them became irresistible. In order to indulge it, he made a voyage to Madeira, and continued during several years to trade with that island, with the Canaries, the Azores, the settlements in Guinea, and all the other places which the Portuguese had discovered on the continent of Africa. By the experience which Columbus acquired during such a variety of voyages to almost everj^ part of the globe with which, at that time, any intercoui'se was car- ried on by sea, be was now become one of the most skil- ful navigators in Europe. But, not satisfied with that praise, his ambition aimed at something more. The suc- cessful progress of the Portuguese navigators had awakened a spirit of curiosity and emulation, which set every man of science upon examining all the circumstances that led to the discoveries which they had made, or that afforded a prospect of succeeding in any new and bolder undertaking. The mind of Columbus, naturally inquisitive, capable of deep reflection, and turned to speculations of this kind, was so often employed in revolving the principles upon which the Portuguese had founded their schemes of dis- covery, and the mode in which they had carried them on, that he gradually began to form an idea of improving upon their plan, and of accomplishing discoveries which hitherto they had attempted in vain. 44 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson To find out a passage by sea to the East Indies was the great object in view at that period. From the time that the Portuguese doubled Cape de Verd, this was the point at which they aimed in all their navigations, and in com- parison with it all their discoveries in Africa appeared in- considerable. The fertility and riches of India had been known for many ages; its spices and other valuable com- modities were in high request throughout Europe, and the vast wealth of the Venetians, arising from their having engrossed this trade, had raised the envy of all nations. But how intent soever the Portuguese were upon discov- ering a new route to those desirable regions, they searched for it only by steering towards the south, in hopes of arriving at India, by turning to the east, after the}" had sailed round the farther extremity of Africa. This course was still unknown, and, even if discovered, was of such immense length that a voyage from Europe to India must have appeared, at that period, an undertaking ex- tremely arduous and of very uncertain issue. More than half a century had been employed in advancing from Cape Non to the equator; a much longer space of time might elapse before the more extensive navigation from that to India could be accomplished. These reflections upon the uncertainty, the danger, and tediousness of the course which the Portuguese were pursuing, naturally led Columbus to consider whether a shorter and more direct passage to the East Indies might not be found out. After revolving long and seriously every circumstance suggested by his superior knowledge in the theory as well as practice of navigation, after comparing atten- tively the observations of modern pilots with the hints and conjectures of ancient authors, he at last concluded that by sailing directly towards the west, across the Atlantic Ocean, new countries, which probably formed a KoBERTSON] COLUMBUS IN EUROPE. 45 part of the great continent of India, must infallibly be discovered. Principles and arguments of various kinds, and derived from different sources, induced him to adopt this opinion, seemingly as chimerical as it was new and extraordinary. The spherical figure of the earth was known, and its mag nitude ascertained with some degree of accuracy. From this it was evident that the continents of Europe, Asia, and Africa, as far as they were known at that time, formed but a small portion of the terraqueous globe. It was suit- able to our ideas concerning the wisdom and beneficence of the Author of Nature, to believe that the vast space still unexplored was not covered entirely by a vast un- profitable ocean, but occupied by countries fit for the habi- tation of man. It appeared, likewise, extremely probable that the continent on this side of the globe was balanced by a proportional quantity of land in the other hemisphere. These conclusions concerning the existence of another con- tinent, drawn from the figure and structure of the globe, were confirmed by the observations and conjectures of modern navigators. A Portuguese pilot, having stretched farther to the west than was usual at that time, took up a piece of timber artificially carved, floating upon the sea ; and as it was driven towards him by a westerly wind, he concluded that it came from some unknown land situ- ated in that quarter. Columbus's brother-in-law had found, to the west of the Madeira Isles, a piece of timber fash- ioned in the same manner and brought by the same wind, and had seen, likewise, canes of an enormous size float- ing upon the waves, which resembled those described by Ptolemy as productions peculiar to the East Indies. After a course of westerly winds, trees, torn up by the roots, were often driven upon the coasts of the Azores, and at one time the dead bodies of two men, with singular 46 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Eobertsou features, resembling neither the inhabitants of Europe nor of Africa, were cast ashore thei'e. [Columbus was of the opinion, from the statements of several ancient writers, that India was a country of immense size, extending far to the east, and that it might be most easily reached by sailing westward around the spherical globe. He had no conception of its actual dis- tance, and no dream of an intervening continent.] To a mind less capable of forming and of executing great designs than that of Columbus, all those reasonings and observations and authorities would have served only as the foundation of some plausible and fruitless theory, which might have furnished matter for ingenious dis- course or fanciful conjecture. But with his sanguine and enterprising temper, speculation led directly to action. Fully satisfied himself with respect to the truth of his system, he was impatient to bring it to the test of ex- periment, and to set out upon a voyage of discovery. The first step towards this was to secure the patronage of some of the considerable powers in Europe capable of undertaking such an enterprise. As long absence had not extinguished the affection which he bore to his native country, he wished that it should reap the fruits of his labors and invention. With this view, he laid his scheme before the senate of Genoa, and, making his country the first tender of his service, offered to sail under the ban- ners of the republic in quest of the new regions which he expected to discover. But Columbus had resided for so many years in foreign parts that his countrymen were unacquainted with his abilities and character; and, though a maritime people, were so little accustomed to distant voyages that they could form no just idea of the princi- ples on which be founded his hopes of success. They inconsiderately rejected his proposal, as the dream of a Robertson] COLUMBUS IX EUROPE. 47 chimerical projector, and lost forever the opportunity of restoring their commonwealth to its ancient splendor. [His next application was to John II. of Portugal, to whom his abilities were known, and who listened graciously to his project. But the parties to whom the monarch referred the scheme induced him dishonorably to despatch a vessel, with strict secrecy, in the direction indicated by Columbus. The pilot chosen, however, returned after a short voyage, and declared the project dangerous and impracticable. When Columbus learned of this treacherous proceeding, he indig- nantly left Portugal and proceeded to Spain, then under the joint rule of Ferdinand and Isabella. Here he spent years in seeking to enlist the monarchs in his favor, until finally, despairing of success, he sent his brother to England and prepared to visit that country in person.] About that time Granada surrendered, and Ferdinand and Isabella, in triumphal pomp, took possession of a city (January 2, 1492) the reduction of which extirpated a foreign power from the heart of their dominions and rendered them masters of all the provinces extending from the bottom of the Pyrenees to the frontiers of Por- tugal. As the flow of spirits which accompanies success elevates the mind and renders it enterprising, Quinta- nilla and Santangel, the vigilant and discerning patrons of Columbus, took advantage of this favorable situation in order to make one more effort in behalf of their friend. They addressed themselves to Isabella, and, after expressing some surprise that she, who had always been the munificent patroness of generous undertakings, should hesitate so long to countenance the most splendid scheme that had ever been j^roposed to any monarch, they repre- sented to her that Columbus was a man of a sound under- standing and virtuous character, well qualified, by his experience in navigation, as well as his knowledge of geometry, to form just ideas with respect to the structure of the globe and the situation of its various regions; that 48 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson by offering to risk his own life and fortune in the execu- tion of his scheme he gave the most satisfying evidence both of his integrity and hope of success; that the sum required for equipping such an armament as he demanded was inconsiderable, and the advantages which might ac- crue from his undertaking were immense ; that he de- manded no recompense for his invention and labor but what was to arise from the countries which he should discover ; that, as it was woi'thy of her magnanimity to make this noble attempt to extend the sphere of human knowledge, and to open an intercourse with regions hitherto unknown, so it would afford the highest satisfac- tion to her piety and zeal, after re-establishing the Chris- tian faith in those provinces of Spain from which it had been long banished, to discover a new world, to which she might communicate the light and blessings of divine truth ; that if now she did not decide instantly, the opportunit}' would be irretrievabl}^ lost ; that Columbus was on his way to foreign countries, where some prince, more fortunate and adventurous, would close with his proposals, and Spain would forever bewail the fatal timidity which had excluded her from the glory and advantages that she had once in her power to have enjoyed. These forcible arguments, urged by persons of such authority and at a juncture so well chosen, produced the desired effect. They dispelled all Isabella's doubts and fears : she ordered Columbus to be instantly recalled, de- clared her resolution of employing him on his own terms, and, regretting the low state of her finances, generously offered to pledge her own jewels in order to raise as much money as might be needed in making preparations for the voyage. Santangel, in a transport of gratitude, kissed the queen's hand, and, in order to save her from having recourse to such a mortifying expedient for pro- Irving] DISCOVERT OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 49 curing money, engaged to advance immediately the sum that was requisite. Columbus had proceeded some leagues on his joui-uey when the messenger from Isabella overtook him. Upon receiving an account of the unexpected revolution in his favor, he returned directly to Santa Fe, though some re- mainder of diflSdence still mingled itself with his joy. But the cordial reception which he met with from Isa- bella, together with the near prosj^ect of setting out upon that voyage which had so long been the object of his thoughts and wishes, soon effaced the remembrance of all that he had suffered in Spain during eight tedious years of solicitation and suspense. The negotiation now went forward with facility and despatch, and a treaty or capitulation with Columbus was signed on the seven- teenth of April, one thousand four hundred and ninety- two. THE DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. WASHINGTON IRVING. [It is a somewhat remarkable evidence of the rapid progress of na- tions in modern times that after years of doubt and deliberation the utmost provision which the kingdom of Spain could make for the dis- covei-y of a new world was a fleet of three frail vessels which would now be considered scarcely fit for a coasting voyage, and which thou- sands of individuals might provide at an hour's notice. Only one of these vessels was decked, and the boldness of ignorance alone made so many men willing to dare the risk of crossing an ocean in such crazy craft. One hundred and twenty persons in all took part in the expe- dition, which set sail from the port of Palos on the 3d of August, 1492. One of the vessels was in distress when they were but three days from port, and the fleet was obliged to put in to the Canary I. — c d 5 50 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving Islands for repair. Here they lay for a month before they were ready to set sail again. "While there the admiral learned that three Portuguese caravels were hovering about the islands, and, fearing that the King of Portugal was seeking to stop the expedition, he hastened to put to sea, to escape this first danger to his long-cherished scheme. In con- tinuation of the story of this remarkable voyage we cannot do better than offer the following selection from Irving's " Life and Voyages of Columbus."] Early in the morning of the 6th of September, Colum- bus set sail from the island of Gomera, and now might be said first to strike into the region of discovery, — taking leave of these frontier islands of the Old World, and steer- ing westward for the unknown parts of the Atlantic. For three days, however, a profound calm kept the ves- sels loitering, with flagging sails, within a short distance of the land. This was a tantalizing delay to Columbus, who was impatient to find himself far out of sight of either land or sail, — which, in the pure atmospheres of these latitudes, may be descried at an immense distance. On the following Sunday, the 9th of September, at day- break, he beheld Ferro, the last of the Canary Islands, about nine leagues distant. This was the island whence the Portuguese caravels had been seen ; he was there- fore in the very neighborhood of danger. Fortunately, a breeze sprang up with the sun, their sails were once more filled, and in the course of the day the heights of Ferro gradually faded from the horizon. On losing sight of this last trace of land, the hearts of the crews failed them. They seemed literally to have taken leave of the world. Behind them was everything dear to the heart of man, — country, family, friends, life itself; before them everything was chaos, mystery, and peril. In the perturbation of the moment, they despaired of ever more seeing their homes. Many of the rugged Irting] discovery of AMERICA by COLUMBUS. 51 seamen shed tears, and some broke into loud lamentations. The admiral tried in every '^ay to soothe their distress, and to inspire them with his own glorious anticipations. He described to them the magnificent countries to which he was about to conduct them : the islands of the Indian seas teeming with gold and precious stones ; the regions of Mangi and Cathay, with their cities of unrivalled wealth and splendor. He promised them land and riches, and everything that could arouse their cupidity or inflame their imaginations, nor were these promises made for pur- poses of mere deception; he certainly believed that he should realize them all. [Columbus now directed the commanders of the other vessels that in the event of separation they should continue to sail due westward, but that after sailing seven hundred leagues they should lie by from midnight to dawn, as he confidently expected to find land at about that distance. That the crews might remain ignorant of the real distance traversed, he kept two reckonings, a private and correct one for himself, and a log-book for general inspection, in which the actual distance sailed was decreased] On the 13th of September, in the evening, being about two hundred leagues from the island of Ferro, Columbus, for the first time, noticed the variation of the needle, — a phenomenon which had never before been remarked. He perceived, about nightfall, that the needle, instead of pointing to the north star, varied about half a point, or between five and six degrees, to the northwest, and still more on the following morning. Struck with this circum- stance, he observed it attentively for three days, and found that the variation increased as he advanced. He at first made no mention of tliis phenomenon, knowing how ready his people were to take alarm, but it soon attracted the attention of the pilots, and filled them with consternation, rt seemed as if the verv laws of nature were changing as 52 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving they advanced, and that they were entering another world, subject to unknown influerfces. They apprehended that the compass was about to lose its mysterious virtues, and, without this guide, what was to become of them in a vast and trackless ocean ? [Columbus succeeded in allaying their apprehensions by an in- genious though incorrect explanation of the cause of the variation of the compass, a phenomenon which, in fact, remains yet unexplained.] On the 14th of September the voyagers were rejoiced by the sight of what they considered harbingers of land; A heron, and a tropical bird called the Eabo de Junco, neither of which are supposed to venture far to sea, hovered about the ships. On the following night they were struck with awe at beholding a meteor, or, as Colum- bus calls it in his journal, a great flame of fire, which seemed to fall from the sky into the sea, about four or five leagues distant. These meteors, common in warm climates, and especially under the tropics, are always seen in the serene azure sky of those latitudes, falling as it were fi'om the heavens, but never beneath a cloud. In the trans- parent atmosphere of one of those beautiful nights, where every star shines with the purest lustre, they often leave a luminous train behind them which lasts for twelve or fifteen seconds and may well be compared to a flame. The wind had hitherto been favorable, with occasional, though transient, clouds and showers. They had made great progress each day, though Columbus, according to his secret plan, contrived to suppress several leagues in the daily reckoning left open to the crew. They had now arrived within the influence of the trade- wind, which, following the sun, blows steadily from east to west between the tropics, and sweeps over a few adjoin- ing degrees of ocean. With this propitious breeze directly Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 53 aft, they were wafted gently but speedily over a tranquil sea, so that for many days they did not shift a sail. Co- lumbus perpetually recurs to the bland and temperate serenity of the weather, which in this tract of the ocean is soft and refreshing without being cool. In his artless and expressive language he compares the pure and balmy mornings to those of April in Andalusia, and observes that they wanted but the song of the nightingale to com- plete the illusion. " He had reason to say so," observes the venerable Las. Casas ; " for it is marvellous the suavity which we experience when half-way towards these Indies; and the more the ships approach the lands, so much more do they perceive the temperance and softness of the air, the clearness of the sky, and the amenity and fragrance sent forth from the groves and forests; much more cer- tainly than in April in Andalusia." They now began to see large patches of herbs and weeds drifting from the west, and increasing in quantity as they advanced. Some of these weeds wei-e such as grow about rocks, others such as are produced in rivers ; some were yellow and withered, others so green as to have apparently been recently washed from land. On one of these patches was a live crab, which Columbus carefully j^reserved They saw also a white tropical bird, of a kind which never sleeps upon the sea. Tunny-fish also played about the ships, one of which was killed by the crew of the NiJaa. Columbus now called to mind the account given by Aris- totle of certain ships of Cadiz, "vs^hich, coasting the shores outside of the straits of Gibraltar, were driven westward by an impetuous east wind, until they reached a part of the ocean covered with vast fields of weeds, resembling sunken islands, among which they beheld many tunny- fish. He supposed himself arrived in this weedy sea, as it had been called, from which the ancient mariners had 54 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving turned back in dismay, but which he regarded with ani- mated hope, as indicating the vicinity of land. Not that he had yet any idea of reaching the object of his search, the eastern end of Asia ; for, according to his computation, he had come but three hundred and sixty leagues since leaving the Canary Islands, and he placed the main land of India much farther on. On the 18th of September the same weather continued ; a soft steady breeze from the east filled every sail, while, to use the words of Columbus, the sea was as calm as the Guadalquivir at Seville. He fancied that the water of the sea grew fresher as he advanced, and noticed this as proof of the superior sweetness and purity of the air. . . . Notwithstanding his precaution to keep the people ignorant of the distance they had sailed, they were now growing extremely uneasy at the length of the voyage. They had advanced much farther west than ever man had sailed before, and though already beyond the reach of succoi', still they continued daily leaving vast tracts of ocean behind them, and pressing onward and onward into that apparently boundless abyss. It is true they had been flat- tered b}' various indications of land, and still others were occurring ; but all mocked them with vain hopes : after being hailed with a transient joy, they passed away, one after another, and the same interminable expanse of sea and sky continued to extend before them. Even the bland and gentle breeze, uniformly aft, was now conjured by their ingenious fears into a cause of alarm ; for they began to imagine that the wind, in these seas, might al- ways prevail from the east, and, if so, would never permit their return to Spain. Columbus endeavored to dispel these gloomy presages, sometimes by argument and expostulation, sometimes by awakening fresh hopes and pointing out new signs of land. Irving] DISCO VERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 55 On the 20th of September the wind veered, with light breezes from the southwest. These, though adverse to their progress, had a cheering effect upon the people, as they proved that the wind did not always prevail from the east. Several birds also visited the ships ; three, of a small kind which keep about groves and orchards, came singing in the morning, and flew away again in the evening. Their song cheered the hearts of the dismayed mariners, who hailed it as the voice of land. The larger fowl, they ob- served, were strong of wing, and might venture far to sea ; but such small birds were too feeble to fly far, and their sing- ing showed that they were not exhausted by their flight. On the following day there was either a profound calm, or light winds from the southwest. The sea, as far as the eye could reach, was covered with weeds, — a phenomenon often observed in this part of the ocean, which has some- times the appearance of a vast inundated meadow. This has been attributed to immense quantities of submarine plants, which grow at the bottom of the sea until ripe, when they are detached by the motion of the waves and currents, and rise to the surface. These fields of weeds were at first regarded with gi'eat satisfaction, but at length they became, in many places, so dense and matted as in some degree to impede the sailing of the ships, which must have been under very little headway. The crews now called to mind some tale about the frozen ocean, where ships were said to be sometimes fixed immovable. They en- deavored, therefore, to avoid as much as possible these float- ing masses, lest some disaster of the kind might happen to themselves. Others considered these weeds as proofs that the sea was growing shallower, and began to talk of lurking rocks, and shoals, and treacherous quicksands ; and of the danger of running aground, as it were, in the midst of the ocean, where their vessels might rot and fall 56 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving to pieces, far out of the track of human aid, and without any shore where the crews might take refuge. They had evidently some confused notion of the ancient story of the sunken island of Atlantis, and feared that they were arriving at that part of the ocean where navigation was said to be obstructed by dx'owned lands and the ruins of an engulfed country. To dispel these fears, the admiral had frequent recourse tc the lead ; but, though he sounded with a deep-sea line, he still found no bottom. The minds of the crews, how- ever, had gradually become diseased. They were full of vague terrors and superstitious fancies ; they construed everything into a cause of alarm, and harassed their com- mander by incessant murmurs. [The discontent of the crew rapidly augmented, until it rose to the verge of mutiny. Indications which Cohimbus considered favorable they viewed as questionable, and he was kept busy in eiforts to allay their fears. The cloud-forms in the distance frequently deceived them with the illusion of land, the people varying from the excitement of joy to deep depression as these illusory hopes vanished.] For several days they continued on with the same pro- pitious breeze, tranquil sea, and mild, delightful weather. The water was so calm that the sailors amused themselves with swimming about the vessel. Dolphins began to abound, and flying-fish, darting into the air, fell upon the decks. The continued signs of land diverted the atten- tion of the crews, and insensibly beguiled them onward. On the 1st of October, according to the reckoning of the pilot of the admiral's ship, they had come five hun- dred and eighty leagues west since leaving the Canary Islands. The reckoning which Columbus showed the crew was five hundred and eighty-four, but the reckon- ing which he kept privately was seven hundred and seven. Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 57 On the following day the weeds floated from east to west; and on the third day no birds were to be seen. The crews now began to fear that they had passed be- tween islands, from one to the other of which the birds had been flying. Columbus had also some doubts of the kind, but refused to alter his westward course. The peo- ple again uttered murmurs and menaces ; but on the fol- lowing day they were visited by such flights of birds, and the various indications of land became so numerous, that from a state of despondency they passed to one of confi- dent expectation. Eager to obtain the promised pension, the seamen were continually giving the cry of land, on the least appearance of the kind. To put a stop to these false alarms, which produced continual disappointments, Columbus declared that should oxiy one give such notice, and land not be dis- covered within three days afterwards, he should thence- forth forfeit all claim to the reward. [On the 7th of October land was again proclaimed, but with the same result as before. There were now seen, however, "great flights of small field-birds going towards the southwest," and Columbus con- cluded to sail in that direction, from the fact that the Portuguese had discovered the most of their islands by following the flight of birds.] For three days they stood in this direction, and the fur- ther they went the more frequent and encouraging were the signs of land. Flights of small birds of various colors, some of them such as sing in the fields, came flying about the ships, and then continued towards the southwest, and others were heai"d also flying by in the night. Tunny-fish played about the smooth sea, and a heron, a pelican, and a duck were seen, all bound in the same direction. The herbage which floated by was fresh and green, as if re- cently from land, and the air, Columbus observes, was sweet and fragrant as April breezes in Seville. 58 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ievinq All these, however, were regarded by the crews as so many delusions beguiling them on to destruction; and when on the evening of the third day they beheld the sun go down upon a shoreless ocean, t\iQj broke forth into turbulent clamor. They exclaimed against this ob- stinacy in tempting fate by continuing on into a bound- less sea. They insisted upon turning homeward and abandoning the voyage as hopeless. Columbus endeav- ored to pacify them by gentle words and promises of large rewards ; but, finding that they only increased in clamor, he assumed a decided tone. He told them it was useless to murmur ; the expedition had been sent by the sover- eigns to seek the Indies, and, happen what might, he was determined to persevere until, by the blessing of God, he should accomplish the enterprise. Columbus was now at open defiance with his crew, and his situation became desperate. Fortunately, the mani- festations of the vicinity of land were such on the follow- ing day as no longer to admit of a doubt. Beside a quan- tity of fresh weeds, such as grow in rivers, they saw a green fish of a kind which keeps about rocks ; then a branch of thorn with berries on it, and recently separated from the tree, floated b}^ them ; then they picked up a reed, a small board, and, above all, a staft' artificially carved. All gloom and mutin}- now gave way to sanguine expectation ; and throughout the day every one was eagerly on the watch, in hopes of being the first to dis- cover the long-sought-for land. . . . The breeze had been fresh all day, with more sea than usual, and they had made great progress. At sunset they had stood again to the west, and were ploughing the waves at a rapid rate, the Pinta keeping the lead, from her suj)erior sailing. The greatest animation prevailed throughout the ships ; not an eye was closed that night. Irving] DISCOVERY OF AMERICA BY COLUMBUS. 59 As the evening darkened, Columbus took his station on the top of the castle or cabin on the high poop of his vessel, ranging his eye along the dusky horizon, and main- taining an intense and unremitting watch. About ten o'clock he thought he beheld a light glimmering at a great distance. Fearing his eager hopes might deceive him, he called to Pedro Gutierrez, gentleman of the king's bed- chamber, and inquired whether he saw such a light ; the latter replied in the aflfirmative. Doubtful whether it might not yet be some delusion of the fancy, Columbus called Eodrigo Sanchez of Segovia, and made the same inquiry. By the time the latter had ascended the round- house, the light had disappeared. They saw it once or twice afterwards in sudden and passing gleams, as if it were a torch in the bark of a fisherman, rising and sink- ing with the waves, or in the hand of some person on shore, borne up and down as he walked from house to house. So transient and uncertain were these gleams that few attached any importance to them ; Columbus, however, considei-ed them as certain signs of land, and, moreover, that the land was inhabited. They continued their course until two in the morning, when a gun from the Pinta gave the joyful signal of land. It was first descried by a mai'iner named Eodrigo de Triana; but the reward was afterwards adjudged to the admiral, for having previously j)erceived the light. The land was now clearly seen about two leagues distant, whereupon they took in sail, and laid to, waiting im- patiently for the dawn. The thoughts and feelings of Columbus in this little space of time must have been tumultuous and intense. At length, in spite of every difficult}'' and danger, he had accomplished his object. The great mystery of the ocean was revealed; his theory, which had been the scoff of sages, was trium- CO AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving phantly established; he had secured to himself a glory durable as the world itself. It is difficult to conceive the feelings of such a man at such a moment, or the conjectures which must have thronged upon his mind, as to the land before him, covered with darkness. That it was fruitful, was evident from the vegetables which floated from its shores. He thought, too, that he perceived the fragrance of aromatic groves. The moving light he had beheld proved it the residence of man. But what were its inhabitants? "Were they like those of the other parts of the globe? or were they some strange and monstrous race, such as the imagination was prone in those times to give to all remote and unknown regions ? Had he come upon some wild island far in the Indian sea? or was this the famed Cipango itself, the object of his golden fancies ? A thousand speculations of the kind must have swarmed upon him, as, with his anx- ious crews, he waited for the night to pass away, won- dering whether the morning light would reveal a savage wilderness, or dawn upon spicy groves, and glittering fanes, and gilded cities, and all the splendor of Oriental civilization. It was on Friday morning, the 12th of October, that Columbus first beheld the New "World. As the day dawned he saw before him a level island, several leagues in extent, and covered with trees like a continual orchard. Though apparently uncultivated, it was populous, for the inhab- itants were seen issuing from all parts of the woods and running to the shore. The}^ were perfectly naked, and, as they stood gazing at the ships, appeared by their atti- tudes and gestures to be lost in astonishment. Columbus made signal for the ships to cast anchor, and the boats to be manned and armed. He entered his own boat, richly attired in scarlet, and holding the royal standard; whilst Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 61 Martin Alonzo Pinzon, and Yincent Jauez his brother, put off in company in their boats, each with a banner of the enterprise emblazoned with a green cross, having on either side the letters F. and Y., the initials of the Castilian monarchs Fernando and Ysabel, surmounted by crowns. As he approached the shore, Columbus, who was dis- posed for all kinds of agreeable impressions, was delighted with the purity and suavity of the atmosphere, the crys- tal transparency of the sea, and the extraordinary beauty of the vegetation. He beheld, also, fruits of an unknown kind upon the trees which overhung the shores. On land- ing, he threw himself on his knees, kissed the earth, and returned thanks to God with tears of joy. His example was followed by the rest, whose hearts indeed overflowed with the same feelings of gratitude. Columbus then rising drew his sword, displayed the royal standard, and assem- bling around him the two captains, with Rodrigo de Esco- bedo, notary of the armament, Rodrigo Sanchez, and the rest who had landed, he took solemn possession in the name of the Castilian sovereigns, giving the island the name of San Salvador. Having complied with the requi- site forms and ceremonies, he called upon all present to take the oath of obedience to him, as admiral and viceroy, representing the persons of the sovereigns. THE DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. THOMAS F. GORDON. [The discovery made by Columbus was followed up by the Span- iards with an activity in marked contrast to the supineness displayed by other nations in exploring and settling the American continent. Within twenty years from 1492 the four largest islands of the West I. 6 62 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon Indies were the seats of active colonies, while nr.ore than a century passed ere any other nation founded a permanent colony on the Amer- ican shores, with the exception of the small settlements of the Portu- guese in Brazil. This was rapidly followed by the conquest of the two great empires of Mexico and Peru, and the exploration of the region of the southern United States, while yet other nations were content- ing themselves with occasional voyages of discovery along the coasts of the new continent. The great fertility of the islands first settled by the Spaniards, the mildness of their climates, and, above all, the frequent discovery of gold, pearls, and other rich prizes, were the main causes of the Spanish activity, and served as inducements to repeated exploring expeditions. Columbus made four voyages in all to the New World, discovering the South American continent near the mouth of the Orinoco in the third, and reaching Honduras and the coast to the south of this region in the fourth. To the day of his death he continued under the delu- sion that the land he had reached was the eastern extremity of Asia. Other voyagers quickly followed. Ojeda, who had already visited His- paniola with Columbus, sailed on his own account and explored four hundred leagues of the coast of South America in the region already dis- covered by Columbus. He was accompanied by Amerigo Vespucci, who made three subsequent voyages to America and wrote the first account of it that was published. This was in a Latin work printed in 1507 and prepared by a German scholar, Martin Waldseemiiller, who proposed the name of America for the new continent. The sug- gestion was universally accepted, and Columbus lost the honor of giving his name to the New "World. Other voyagers were Pedro Alonzo Nigno, who sailed to the same region of South America and passed from the Gulf of Paria to the shores of the present republic of Colombia, and Vincent Yanez Pin- zon, who had commanded one of the vessels of Columbus on his first voyage, and who was the first Spaniard to cross the equinoctial line. He discovered the mouth of the Amazon River, and from there sailed north to the Caribbean Sea and the Gulf of Mexico. About the same time (1499) Diego Lope reached the coast of South America at Cape St. Augustine, which he doubled and sailed to the southwest for a con- siderable distance. In 1500, Rodrigo Bastides touched South America at Cape Vela, and coasted to the present seaport of Nombre de Dios, a point which Columbus had reached in sailing south from Honduras. At a subsequent period the settled islands of the West Indies became Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 63 centres of exploration for the reckless or disappointed spirits who had failed to find there the fortunes they sought. Among others, Ojeda, under a grant from the King of Spain, founded the settlement of San Sebastian, in the Gulf of Uraba. With him had engaged to sail Francisco Pizarro and Hernando Cortfe. The latter was detained by illness, but the former thus made the first step in his famous career. The colony left by Ojeda was forced by the Indians to abandon the settlement. One vessel foundered. The other, commanded by Pizarro, reached Carthagena, where was found Enciso, a lawyer of San Do- mingo, who was conveying men and provisions to the colony. With him was Vasco Nuiiez de Balboa, an adventurer whose debts made him fly the town, and who managed to smuggle himself on board the ship in what purported to be a cask of provisions. On leaving shore he emerged from his cask, fell on his knees to Enciso, and begged par- don for his trick and permission to accompany the expedition. The colony having been deserted, Balboa proposed that they should sail for Darien, Avhich coast he had already visited with Bastides. This pro- posal was accepted, and a new town established, which was named Santa IVEaria de la Antigua del Darien. Troubles ensued among the colonists, which ended in the imprisonment of Enciso, and the estab- lishment of Balboa as alcalde of the colony. The subsequent story of this able adventurer is told in detail in " The History of the Span- ish Discoveries in America," by Thomas F. Gordon, from which we m.ake the following selection.] In the mean time the natives of Davien, weary of their unbidden guests, and calculating that the same passions which brought them to their shores would tempt them to remove, represented that the neighboring district of Coyba was richer than that of Santa Maria, both in pro- visions and gold. Balboa sent Pizarro, with six men only, to explore the countrj-. Whilst ascending the river, they were surrounded by four hundi-ed Indians, commanded by the cacique Zemaco, with whom the Spaniards unhesi- tatingly engaged, and in a very short time slew one hun- dred and fifty, and wounded many others. All the Span- iards were severely hurt, and one, dangerously wounded, 64 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon was left on the field. The others retreated to Santa Maria. But Balboa, conceiving it to be a stain on his reputation that a living man should be thus abandoned, compelled Pizarro, with another party, to bring him off. [Balboa soon after conquered Coyba, and formed a league with its cacique, who became a useful ally.] Adjacent to Coyba, at the foot of a range of high moun- tains, lay the district of Comagre, governed by a cacique of the same name, who, struck with admiration of the Spaniai'ds, invited them into his territories, treated them with much hospitality, and displayed greater civilization than they had yet seen in the IS'ew World. His palace, one hundred and fifty paces in length and eighty in breadth, was enclosed by a wall of timber of ingenious workmanship, and divided into convenient apartments, stored with abundance of provisions. One of these cham- bers was the receptacle of the dried and embalmed bodies of his ancestors of many generations, which, clothed in mantles of cotton, embroidered with gold, pearls, and precious stones, were suspended from the walls. The eldest son of the cacique presented his guest with a rich offering of gold, valued at four thousand pesos, and seventy slaves. A fifth of the metal was set apart for the king ; but in the division of the remainder a strife arose among the Christians, which surprised and provoked the young Indian. " If," said he, addressing the Spaniards, and indignantly striking over the balance, "if you are so fond of gold as for its sake to desert your own country and distui'b the peace of others, I will lead you to a prov- ince where your utmost desires may be gratified, — where gold is more abundant than iron in Spain, and is used in the fabric of ordinary domestic utensils. But to conquer this country you must provide a larger force than you Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 65 have here, since you will have to contend with mighty chieftains, who will vigorously defend their possessions. When you shall have passed these mountains," continued he, pointing to a range in the southwest, " you will behold another ocean, on which are vessels inferior only to those which brought j'ou hither, equipped with sails and oars, but navigated by a people naked like ourselves." It is supposed that the young chief alluded to the people of Peru. Balboa received with rapturous delight this first certain intimation of the existence of another ocean. He exulted in the hope of discovering the East Indies, which had been so dearly cherished by Columbus, and conjectured that the country now described to him formed a part of that vast and opulent region. He immediatel}^ set about preparation for this great enterprise, cultivating the good will of Comagre and other chieftains, and administering to the former and his sons the rite of Chi-istian baptism. [He sent the gold intended for the royal treasury to St. Domingo, and occupied himself in subduing the neighboring tribes while wait- ing to obtain the sanction of the king to his government of the colony. So much gold was obtained, and such extravagant accounts of the riches of the country were carried to Spain, that the region received the name of Golden Castile (Castilla del Oro), and Balboa was sent the commission of captain-general by Passamonte, the king's treasurer at St. Domingo.] But the pleasure of Nuilez, on this occasion, was not unmixed. Enciso had carried his complaints to the foot of the throne, and Balboa was commanded to repair his losses, to proceed immediately to court, and submit him- self to the king's pleasure. He might, therefore, hourly expect a successor, to deprive him of the fame and wealth he anticipated from his intended enterprise. To prevent a calamity' greatly deprecated by his ambitious spirit, he I. — « 6* G6 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon determined to effect the passage to the South Sea with the force then under his command. The Isthmus of Darien is not above sixty miles in breadth, but a chain of lofty mountains, a continuation of the Andes, covered with almost impenetrable forests, runs through its whole extent. Its valleys, divided by large and impetuous rivers, and inundated by rains which prevail near two-thirds of the year, are marshy and unhealthy. Its inhabitants, advanced but a few degrees in civilization, had done nothing to remove or alleviate the difficulties of the passage from sea to sea ; nor after a lapse of three hundred years has it become more facile or commodious. The attempt of Balboa may justly be considered the boldest which had been made by the Spaniards in the New World ; but he was in all respects fitted to insure its success. The quality of courage he possessed, only, in common with the meanest of his army ; but his prudence, generosity, and affability, and those nameless popular talents which inspire confidence and secure attachment, were peculiarly his own. In battle his post was that of the greatest danger, and in every labor that of the greatest fatigue ; whilst his regard for the ease of his troops was ever active and anxious. He desired for his undertaking a force of one thousand soldiers, but he com- menced it with one hundred and ninety only, and some fierce blood-hounds, which were efficient auxiliaries. A thousand Indians, who accompanied him, were chiefly useful in the transportation of the baggage. Balboa set foi-th on the 1st of September (1513), after the rainy season had passed. He proceeded by sea to the district of Coyba, and thence marched into that of the cacique Ponca. At his approach, that chieftain fled to the deepest recesses of his mountains ; but, attracted by promises of favor, and a liberal donation of Spanish im- Gordon] DISCOVERY OF THE PACIFIC BY BALBOA. 67 plements and toys, he returned to his village, and gave the Spaniards a small quantity of gold, some provisions, and guides. Further progress was sternly opposed by a warlike tribe, armed with bows and arrows, and a species of sling, by which they threw staves hardened in the fire with such force as to pass through the body of a naked adversary. But the novel and terrific effect of the firelock, the keen edge of the sword, and the ferocity of the blood- hounds, scattered them in disma}^, with the loss of their cacique and six hundred of inferior note. Among the prisoners were the brother of the cacique, and several chiefs, who were clothed in tunics of white cotton ; and, being accused of unnatural crimes by their enemies, they were torn to pieces by the dogs, at the command of the Spaniards. This defeat made the neighboring tribes fearful of pro- voking hostility, and disposed them to render such assist- ance as the Christians required. But great labor and patience were necessary to overcome the natural difficul- ties of the way. Disease and fatigue broke down some of the hardy veterans, and they were left behind to recruit their health. A journey estimated b}^ the Indians to be of six days only had already occupied twenty-five days, when Nunez approached the summit of a mountain from which he was informed the great ocean might be seen. He commanded the army to halt, and advanced alone to the apex, whence he beheld the great South Sea opened before him, in boundless extent. Casting himself on his knees, he poured forth his grateful thanks to heaven for conducting him in safety to this glorious object. The army, beholding his transports, rushed forward, and joined in his admiration, his exultation, and his grati- tude. Then, with formal ceremony, he took possession of land and sea, making a record thereof, carefully attested, 68 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gordon erecting crosses and mounds of stone, and cutting the king's name on trees. In his descent to the coast he was compelled to combat with a cacique called Chiapes, whom he converted by his magnanimity into an active and zeal- ous friend. . . . [A practicable passage to the sea being discovered,] Nunez, leaving a great part of his men at the village of Chiapes, proceeded with eighty Spaniards and a number of Indians, conducted by their friendly chief, towards the coast, and arrived on the borders of one of the vast bays which indent it, and to which he gave the name of St. Michael, it being discovered on that saint's day. When he reached the shore he rushed into the ocean with his sword drawn, and called upon the witnesses to observe that he had taken possession of it in the name of the king, his master. [The succeeding career of Balboa may be epitomized. Receiving from the Indians a fuller description of the great and wealthy empire to the south, and having too few men to attempt its conquest, he re- turned to Darien by another route, carrying with him a treasure valued at nearly half a million of dollars, the greatest collected up to that time by any adventurer in America. He at once sent messengers to Spain, but before these arrived Don Pedrarias Davila had been sent out to supersede him in his command. Somewhat later letters arrived from the king appointing Balboa Adelantado, or admiral. He then resolved to accomplish his project of exploring the newly-discovered ocean. With enormous labor, ship-building materials were conveyed across the isthmus, and two brigantines were constructed. Embarking in these, the adventurere took possession of the Pearl Islands, and only adverse weather prevented them from reaching the coast of Peru. Balboa's career was checked by the jealousy of Pedrarias, who re- called him to Darien. Balboa obeyed, having no suspicion of treach- ery. He was immediately seized, imprisoned, tried, and condemned to death, Pedrarias forcing the judge to impose this sentence. The sentence was carried into execution in the public square of Ada, in 1517, to the great grief of all the inhabitants, who had vainlv inter- Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 69 ceded for his pardon. The design of the conquest of Peru, which he was thus prevented from accomplishing, was finally carried out by Pi- zarro, as able a man as Balboa, and a much more unscrupulous one. Three years after the death of Balboa, a Spanish fleet, under Magellan, entered the South Sea after sailing around the southern extremity of the continent. This great ocean, which Magellan named the Pacific, from the pleasant weather with which he was steadily favored, was crossed by his ships to the islands of the Indian archipelago. Laden with spices, the fleet returned to Europe by way of the Cape of Good Hope, having thus completed the circumnavigation of the globe.] RETREAT OF CORTES FROM THE CITY OF MEXICO. WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. [The first step towards the discovery of Mexico was made by Fran- Cisco Fernandez de Cordova, who, in 1517, explored the northern coast of Yucatan. Instead of finding naked savages, as in former explorations, he was surprised to discover well-clad people and large stone edifices. The natives were so bold and warlike as to drive ofl" the Spaniards, killing many of them, and mortally wounding Cordova. In the following year, Juan de Grijalva explored a portion of the southern coast of Mexico, and obtained much treasure by traffic with the inhabitants. Velasquez, governor of Cuba, who had fitted out this expedition, now determined to attempt the conquest of the wealthy country that had been discovered, and prepared an expedition of ten vessels, manned by six hundred and seventeen men, which he placed under the command of Hernando Cortes, an adventurous cavalier who had already shown much military ability. He landed in Mexico on March 4, 1519, where his ships, his horses, and his artillery filled the natives with wonder and terror and caused them to regard the Span- iards as divine beings. After several victories over the natives, who were repulsed with great slaughter, Cortes founded the city of Vera Cruz, burned his vessels to cut ofl" all thought of retreat from the minds of his soldiers, and commenced his march towards the Mexican capital. He was opposed by the people of Tlascala, enemies of the 70 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott Aztecs, but he conquered this warlike republic and converted its in- nabitants into useful auxiliaries. In the city of Cholula, where an ambuscade had been laid for him, he defeated his enemies with terrible slaughter. He finally reached the city of Mexico, which was situated on an island in a lake and connected by causeways with the mainland. Here he took Montezuma, the Aztec emperor, prisoner, and converted one of his palaces into a fortress. Velasquez had, meanwhile, sent an expedition under Narvaez to deprive Cortes of his command. Leav- ing two hundred men in the city, he marched against Narvaez, defeated Uim, and enlisted his men under his own banner. During his absence the Mexicans attacked the Spanish garrison. Their attacks were con- tinued after the return of Cortes with such fury that Montezuma was mortally wounded by his own subjects, and many of the Spaniards were slain. So persistent and threatening became the Mexican assaults that the invaders found themselves in imminent peril of being entirely de- stroyed, and their leader was forced to order a retreat. There is noth- ing more exciting in fiction than the story of this ten-ible night march, the "noehe triste" of Spanish historians. We give it in Prescott's eloquent description from his " Conquest of Mexico."] The general's first care was to provide for the safe trans- portation of the treasure. Many of the common soldiers had converted their share of the prize, as we have seen, into gold chains, collars, or other ornaments, which they easily carried about their persons. But the royal fifth, together with that of Cortes himself, and much of the rich booty of the principal cavaliers, had been converted into bars and wedges of solid gold and deposited in one of the strong apartments of the palace. Cortes delivered the share belonging to the crown to the royal oflicers, as- signing them one of the strongest horses, and a guard of Castilian soldiers, to transport it. Still, much of the treas- ure, belonging both to the crown and to individuals, was necessarily abandoned, from the want of adequate means of conveyance. The metal lay scattered in shining heaps along the floor, exciting the cupidity of the soldiers. ■• Take what you will of it," said Cortes to his men. Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 71 " Better you should have it, than these Mexican hounds. But be careful not to overload yourselves. He travels safest in the dark night M'ho travels lightest." His own more wary followers took heed to his counsel, helping themselves to a few articles of least bulk, though, it might be, of greatest value. But the troops of Narvaez, pining for riches of which they had heard so much and hitherto seen so little, showed no such discretion. To them it seemed as if the very mines of Mexico were turned up before them, and, rushing on the treacherous spoil, they greedily loaded themselves with as much of it, not merely as they could accommodate about their persons, but as they could stow away in wallets, boxes, or any other means of conveyance at their disposal. Cortes next arranged the order of march. The van, composed of two hundred Spanish foot, he placed under the command of the valiant Gonzalo de Sandoval, sup- ported by Diego de Ordaz, Francisco de Lujo, and about twenty other cavaliers. The rear-guard, constituting the strength of the infantrj", was intrusted to Pedro de Alva- rado and Velasquez de Leon. The general himself took charge of the •' battle," or centre, in which went the bag- gage, some of the heavy guns, — most of which, however, remained in the rear, — the treasure, and the prisoners. These consisted of a son and two daughters of Monte- zuma, Cacama, the deposed lord of Tezcuco, and several other nobles, whom Cortes retained as important pledges in his future negotiations with the enemy. The Tlascalans were distributed prett}' equally among the three divisions ; and Cortes had under his immediate command a hundred picked soldiers, his own veterans most attached to his service, who, with Cristoval de Olid, Francisco de Morla, Alonso de Avila, and two or three other cavaliers, formed a select corps, to act wherever occasion might require. 72 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott The general had already superintended the construction of a portable bridge to be laid over the open canals in the causeway. This was given in charge to an officer named Magarino, with fort}' soldiers under his orders, all pledged to defend the passage to the last extremity. The bridge was to be taken up wdien the entire army had crossed one of the breaches, and transported to the next. There were three of these openings in the causeway, and most fortu- nate would it have been for the expedition if the fore- sight of the commander had provided the same number of bridges. But the labor would have been great, and time was short. At midnight the troops were under arms, in readiness for the march. Mass was performed by Father Olmedo, who invoked the protection of the Almighty through the awful perils of the night. The gates were thrown open, and on the 1st of July, 1520, the Spaniards for the last time sallied forth from the walls of the ancient for- tress, the scene of so much suffering and such indomitable courage. The night was cloudy, and a drizzling rain, which fell without intermission, added to the obscurity. The great square before the palace was deserted, as, indeed, it had been since the fall of Montezuma. Steadily, and as noise- lessly as possible, the Spaniards held their way along the great street of Tlacopan, which so lately had resounded with the tumult of battle. All was now hushed in silence ; and the}^ were only reminded of the past by the occasional presence of some solitary corpse, or a dark heap of the slain, which too plainly told where the strife had been hot- test. As they passed along the lanes and alleys which opened into the great street, or looked down the canals, whose polished surface gleamed with a sort of ebon lustre through the obscurity of night, they easily fancied that Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 73 they discerned the shadowy forms of their foe lurking in ambush and ready to spring on thera. But it was only fancy; and the city slept undisturbed even by the pro- longed echoes of the tramp of the horses and the hoarse rumbling of the artillery and baggage-trains. At length a lighter space beyond the dusky line of buildings showed the van of the army that it was emerging on the open causeway. They might well have congratulated them- selves on having thus escaped the dangers of an assault in the city itself, and that a brief time would place them in comparative safety on the opposite shore. But the Mexicans were not all asleep. As the Spaniards drew near the spot where the street opened on the causeway, and were preparing to lay the portable bridge across the uncovered breach, which now met their eyes, several Indian sentinels, who had been stationed at this, as at the other approaches to the city, took the alarm and fled, rousing their countrymen by their cries. The priests, keeping their night-watch on the summit of the teocalUs, instantly caught the tidings and sounded their shells, while the huge drum in the desolate temple of the war-god sent forth those solemn tones which, heard only in seasons of calamity, vibrated through every corner of the capital. The Spaniards saw that no time was to be lost. The bridge was brought forward and fitted with all possible expedition. Sandoval was the first to try its strength, and, riding across, was followed by his little body of chivalry, his infantry, and Tlascalan allies, who formed the first division of the army. Then came Cortes and his squadrons, with the baggage, ammunition-wagons, and a part of the artillery. But before they had time to defile across the narrow pas- sage, a gathering sound was heard, like that of a mighty forest agitated by the winds. It grew louder and louder, I— D 7 74 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott while on the dark waters of the hike was heard a plash- ing noise, as of many oars. Then came a few stones and arrows striking at random among the hurrying troops. They fell every moment faster and more furious, till they thickened into a terrible tempest, while the very heavens were rent with the yells and war-cries of myriads of com- batants, who seemed all at once to be swarming over land and lake ! The Spaniards pushed steadily on through this arrow}' sleet, though the barbarians, dashing their canoes against the sides of the causeway, clambered up and broke in upon their ranks. But the Christians, anxious only to make their escape, declined all combat except for self- preservation. The cavaliers, spurring forward their steeds, shook off their assailants and rode over their prostrate bodies, while the men on foot with their good swords or the butts of their pieces drove them headlong again down the sides of the dike. But the advance of several thousand men, marching, probably, on a front of not more than fifteen or twenty abreast, necessarily required much time, and the leading files had already reached the second breach in the cause- way before those in the rear had entirely traversed the fii-st. Here they halted, as they had no means of effect- ing a passage, smarting all the while under unintermit- ting volleys from the enemy, who were clustered thick on the waters around this second opening. Sorelj^ dis- tressed, the vanguard sent repeated messages to the rear to demand the portable bridge. At length the last of the army had crossed, and Magarino and his sturdy followers endeavored to raise the ponderous framework. But it stuck fast in the sides of the dike. In vain they strained every nerve. The weight of so many men and horses, and above all of the heavy artillery, had wedged the timbers Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 75 80 firmly in the stones and earth that it was beyond their power to dislodge them. Still they labored amidst a tor- rent of missiles, until, many of them slain, and all wounded, they were obliged to abandon the attempt. The tidings soon spread from man to man, and no sooner was their dreadful import comprehended than a cry of despair arose, which for a moment drowned all the noise of conflict. All means of retreat were cut off. Scarcely hope was left. The only hope was in such desper- ate exertions as each could make for himself. Order and subordination were at an end. Intense danger produced intense selfishness. Each thought only of his own life. Pressing forward, he trampled down the weak and the wounded, heedless whether it were friend or foe. The leading files, urged on by the rear, were crowded on the brink of the gulf Sandoval, Ordaz, and the other cavaliers dashed into the water. Some succeeded in swimming their horses across. Others failed, and some, who reached the opposite bank, being overturned in the ascent, rolled headlong with their steeds into the lake. The infantry followed pell-mell, heaped promiscuously on one anothei, frequently pierced by the shafts or struck down b}' the war-clubs of the Aztecs ; while many an unfortunate vic- tim was dragged half stunned on board their canoes, to be reserved for a protracted but more dreadful death. The carnage raged fearfully along the length of the causeway. Its shadowy bulk presented a mark of suf- ficient distinctness for the enemy's missiles, which often prostrated their own countrymen in the blind fury of the tempest. Those nearest the dike, running their canoes alongside with a force that shattered them to piec^es, leaped on the land, and grappled with the Christians, until both came rolling down the side of the causeway together. But the Aztec fell among his friends, while 76 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Prescott his antagonist was borne away in triumph to the sacrifice. The struggle was long and deadly. The Mexicans were recognized by their white cotton tunics, which showed faint through the darkness. Above the combatants rose a wild and discordant clamor, in which horrid shouts of vengeance were mingled with groans of agonj^, with invo- cations of the saints and the blessed Virgin, and with the screams of women ; for there were several women, both natives and Spaniards, who had accompanied the Chris- tian camp. Among these, one named Maria de Estrada is particularly noticed for the courage she displayed, bat- tling with broadsword and target like the stanchest of the warriors. The opening in the causeway, meanwhile, was filled up with the wreck of matter which had been forced into it, — ammunition-wagons, heavj^ guns, bales of rich stuffs scat- tered over the waters, chests of solid ingots, and bodies of men and horses, till over this dismal ruin a j^assage was gradually formed, hj which those in the rear were enabled to clamber to the other side. Cortes, it is said, found a place that was fordable, where, halting, with the water up to his saddle-girths, he endeavored to check the confusion and lead his followers by a safer path to the opposite bank. But his voice was lost in the wild uproar, and finally, hurrying on with the tide, he pressed for- wards with a few trusty cavaliers, who remained near his person, to the van ; but not before he had seen his favorite page, Juan de Solazar, struck down, a corpse, by his side. Here he found Sandoval and his companions, halting be- fore the third and last breach, endeavoring to cheer on their followers to surmount it. But their resolution fal- tered. It was wide and deep ; though the passage was not so closely beset by the enemy as the preceding ones. The cavaliers again set the example by j)lur]ging into Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 'J'J the water. Horse and., foot followed as they could, some swimming, others with dying grasp clinging to the manes and tails of the struggling animals. Those fared best, as the general had predicted, who travelled lightest ; and many were the unfortunate wretches who, weighed down by the fatal gold which they loved so well, were buried with it in the salt floods of the lake. Cortes, with his gallant comrades, Olid, Morla, Sandoval, and some few others, still kept in the advance, leading his broken rem- nant off the fatal causeway. The din of battle lessened in the distance ; when the rumor reached them that the rear-guard would be wholly overwhelmed without speedy relief. It seemed almost an act of desperation ; but the generous hearts of the Spanish cavaliers did not stop to calculate danger when the cry for succor reached them. Turning their horses' bridles, they galloped back to the theatre of action, worked their way through the press, swam the canal, and placed themselves in the thick of the melee on the opposite bank. The first gray of the morning was now coming over the waters. It showed the hideous confusion of the scene which had been shrouded in the obscurity of night. The dark masses of combatants, stretching along the dike, were seen struggling for mastery, until the very cause- way on which they stood appeared to tremble and reel to and fro, as if shaken by an earthquake, while the bosom of the lake, as far as the eye could reach, was darkened by canoes crowded with warriors, whose spears and blud- geons, armed with blades of " volcanic glass," gleamed in the morning light. The cavaliers found Alvarado unhorsed, and defending himself with a poor handful of followers against an over- w^helming tide of the enemy. His good steed, which had borne him through many a hard fight, had fallen under 78 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Pbescott him. He was himself wounded in several places, and was striving in vain to rally his scattered column, which was driven to the verge of the canal by the fury of the enemy, then in possession of the whole rear of the causeway, where they were reinforced every hour by fresh com- batants from the city. The artillery in the earlier part of the engagement had not been idle, and its iron shower, sweeping along the dike, had mowed down the assailants by hundreds. But nothing could resist their impetuosity. The front ranks, pushed on by those behind, were at length forced up to the pieces, and, pouring over them like a tor- rent, overthrew men and guns in one general rvain. The resolute charge of the Spanish cavaliers, who had now arrived, created a temporary check, and gave time for their countrymen to make a feeble rally. But they were speedily borne down by the returning flood. Cortes and his companions were compelled to plunge again into the lake, — though all did not escape. Alvarado stood on the brink for a moment hesitating what to do. Unhorsed as he was, to throw himself into the water in the face of the hostile canoes that now swarmed around the opening afforded but a desperate chance of safety. He had but a second for thought. He was a man of powerful frame, and despair gave him unnatural energy. Setting his long lance firmly on the wreck which strewed the bottom of the lake, he sprung forward with all his might, and cleared the wide gap at a leap ! Aztecs and Tlascalans gazed in stupid amazement, exclaiming, as they beheld the incredi- ble feat, " This is truly the Tonatiuh, — the child of the Sun!" The breadth of the opening is not given. But it was so great that the valorous captain, Diaz, who well re- membered the place, says the leap was impossible to any man. Other contemporaries, however, do not discredit the story. It was, beyond doubt, matter of popular be Prescott] retreat OF CORTES. 79 lief at the time ; it is to this day familiarly known to every inhabitant of the capital ; and the name of the Salto de Alvarado, " Alvarado's Leap," given to the spot, still commemorates an exploit which rivalled those of the demi-gods of Grecian fable. Cortes and his companions now rode forward to the front, where the troops, in a loose, disorderly manner, were marching off the fatal causeway. A few only of the enemy hung on their rear, or annoyed them by occasional flights of arrows from the lake. The attention of the Aztecs was diverted by the rich spoil that strewed the battle-ground; fortunately for the Spaniards, who, had their enemy pursued with the same ferocity with which he had fought, would, in their crippled condition, have been cut off, probably, to a man. But little molested, therefore, they were allowed to defile through the adja- cent village, or suburbs, it might be called, of Popotla. The Spanish commander there dismounted from his jaded steed, and, sitting down on the steps of an Indian temple, gazed mournfully on the broken files as they passed before him. What a spectacle did they present! The cavalry, most of them dismounted, were mingled with the infantry, who dragged their feeble limbs along with diffi- culty ; their shattered mail and tattered garments drip- ping with the salt ooze, showing through their rents many a bruise and ghastly wound; their bright arms soiled, their proud crests and banners gone, the baggage, artillery, all, in short, that constitutes the pride and pan- oply of glorious war, forever lost. Cortes, as he looked wistfully on their thin and disordered ranks, sought in vain for many a familiar face, and missed more than one dear companion who had stood side by side with him through all the perils of the Conquest. Though accus- tomed to control his emotions, or, at least, to conceal 80 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers them, the sight was too much for him. He covered his face with his hands, and the tears which trickled down revealed too plainly the anguish of his soul. [The story of the conquest of Mexico may be briefly concluded. Cortes, in his retreat, found himself opposed by a vastly outnumber- ing army, filling a valley through which he was forced to pass. A desperate conflict ensued, in which the Spaniards were in imminent danger of annihilation, when Cortes, followed by his bravest cavaliers, spurred to the point where the great Aztec standard rose in the centre of the army, cut down the general, and seized the imperial banner. On seeing their standard fall, the army at once broke into a panic and fled in all directions, leaving free passage to the remnant of the Span- ish force. Cortes proceeded to the coast, where he received reinforce- ments, and returned to besiege the city. It was defended with des- perate determination, and yielded only after a siege of several months, when the city was nearly levelled with the ground, and after the in- habitants had endured the extremities of famine. The submission of the city was that of the empire, and the Aztecs experienced the fate which had been visited upon the natives in the other Spanish colonies.] HERNANDO DE SOTO. N. D'ANVERS. [The activity of the Spanish adventurers in their search for gold was unceasing, and this eager desire for riches led to a far more rapid exploration of the American continent than could have been accom- plished under any other incitement. It was this that led Balboa in his perilous journey across the Isthmus, and that was the inciting cause of the remarkable achievements of Cortes and Pizarro. The same wild thirst for wealth led a succession of bold adventurers north- ward, and gave rise to an extended exploration of the territory of the southern United States. The earliest of these was Juan Ponce de Leon, who in 1512 discovered a country which he named Florida, either because he first saw it on Easter Sunday {Pascua florida), or on D'Anveks] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 81 account of its beautiful appearance. He made several efforts to land, but was driven off by the warlike natives. In the words of Robertson, '• It was not merely the passion of searching for new countries that prompted Ponce de Leon to under- take this voyage ; he was influenced by one of those visionary ideas which at that time often mingled with the spirit of discovery and rendered it more active. A tradition prevailed among the natives of Puerto Kico, that in the isle of Bimini, one of the Lucayos, there was a fountain of such wonderful virtue as to renew the youth and recall the vigor of every person who bathed in its salutary waters. In hopes of finding this grand restorative, Ponce de Leon and his follow- ers ranged through the islands, searching, with fruitless solicitude and labor, for the fountain which was the chief object of their expedition. That a tale so fabulous should gain credit among simple uninstructed Indians is not surprising. That it should make any impression upon an enlightened people appears, in the present age, altogether incredi- ble. The fact, however, is certain ; and the most authentic Spanish historians mention this extravagant sally of their credulous country- men. The Spaniards, at that period, were engaged in a career of activity which gave a romantic turn to their imagination and daily presented to them strange and marvellous objects. A new world was opened to their view. They visited islands and continents of whose existence mankind in former ages had no conception. In those de- lightful countries nature seemed to assume another form ; every tree and plant and animal was different from those of the ancient hemi- sphere. They seemed to be transported into enchanted ground ; and, after the wonders which they had seen, nothing, in the warmth and novelty of their imagination, appeared to them so extraordinary as to be beyond belief. If the rapid succession of new and striking scenes made such impression upon the sound understanding of Columbus that he boasted of having found the seat of Paradise, it will not ap- pear strange that Ponce de Leon should dream of discovering the fountain of youth." Ponce de Leon was killed by the Indians in a second visit to Florida in 1521. In 1518 Francisco Garay cruised along the whole Gulf coast, passing the mouth of the Mississippi, — the Miche Sepe, or Father of Waters, of the Indians. In 1520, Lucas Vasquez de Ayllon sailed from Cuba in quest of a land called Chicora, north of Florida, said to possess a sacred stream whose waters had the miraculous virtue of those of the Fountain of Youth. He carried off some of the Indians, in i.—f 82 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D' An vers reprisal for which he was attacked in a second expedition and many of his men killed, perhaps himself among the number. In 1528, Pamphilo de ISTarvaez made an etfort to take possession of this land in the name of Charles V. of Germany. He met, however, with such determined opposition from the Indians that after months of fruitless wandering he reached the shores of the Gulf, bringing with him but a miserable remnant of his six hundred followers. Here five crazy boats were built, and the reckless adventurers sought to follow the line of the coast to the Mexican settlements. Four of the boats were lost in a storm, and the survivors, landing, sought to cross the continent to the province of Sonora, already colonized by Spaniards. Four of the party, after being held for years in captivity by the Indians, succeeded in this enterprise, among them CabcQa de Yaca, treasurer of the ex- pedition. Their appearance at the mining settlement on the shores of the Gulf of California caused the greatest astonishment, and on reach- ing Europe, nine years after the starting of the original expedition, they were received with the utmost enthusiasm. We give the story of De Soto in an extract from " Heroes of American Discovery," by N. D'Anvers.] The excitement caused by the wonderful tales of their captivitj^, told by Cabe§a and his comrades, was, as may be imagined, intense. Far from damping the ardor of others for exploration and colonization, the pictures called up by their narrative of hair-breadth escapes, of the magic influence exercised on whole tribes of dusky warriors by a single white man, of the weird growths of the tropical forests, and of the wild beauty of the Indian maidens, created a passion for adventure amongst the youth of Spain. When, therefore, the renowned Hernando de Soto, who had been in close attendance on Pizarro throughout his romantic career in Peru, asked for and obtained per- mission from Ferdinand of Spain to take possession of Florida in his name, hundreds of volunteers of every rank flocked to his standard. Narvaez had failed for want of knowledge as to how to deal with the natives ; doubtless the land of gold could yet be found by those who knew D'Anvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 83 how to wrest the secret of its position from the sons of the soil ; and so once more a gallant company set forth from Spain to measure their strength against the craft of the poor Indians of Florida. -De Soto, who was in the first place appointed governor of Cuba that he might turn to account the resources of that wealthy island, sailed from Havana with a fleet of nine vessels and a force of some six or seven hundred men on the 18th May, 1539, and cast anchor in Tampa Bay on the 30th of the same month. Landing his forces at once, the leader gave orders that they should start for the interior immediately, by the same route as that taken by his unfortunate predecessor; and the men were eagerly ploughing their way through the sandy, marshy districts immediately beyond the beach, driving the natives who opposed their progress before them, when one of those romantic incidents occurred in which the early history of the New "World is so remarkably rich. A white man on horseback rode forward from amongst the dusky savages, who hailed the approach of the troops with wild gestures of delight, and turned out to be a Spaniard named Juan Ortiz, who had belonged to the Narvaez expedition and had been unable to effect his escape with his comrades. In his captivity amongst the Indians he had acquired a. thorough knowledge of their language, and his services alike as a mediator and a guide were soon found to be invaluable. [The story told by Ortiz of his adventures in captivity may be briefly given. It had been decided by his captors to burn him alive by a slow fire, as a sacrifice to the Evil Spirit. He was accordingly bound hand and foot and laid on a wooden stage, with a fire kindled beneath it. At that moment of frightful peril the daughter of the chieftain begged for his life from her father, and succeeded in winning a change of sentence from death to slavery. Three years later he was 84 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers again condemned to be burned, and again saved by the chieftain's daughter, who warned him of his danger, and led him to the camp of another chief. Here he remained until the an-ival of the Spaniards. As for the maiden, Ortiz says nothing further concerning her. Led by Ortiz, the exploring army wandered through the unknown land of Florida until the ensuing spring, when the march was resumed under the guidance of a native who said he would take the white men to a distant country, governed by a woman, and abounding in a yellow metal, which the Spaniards naturally took to be gold, but which proved to be copper. After wandering to the southern slope of the Appa- lachian range, marking their course by pillage and bloodshed, and finding the land of gold ever receding before them, they reached the dominions of an Indian queen, who hastened to welcome them, per- haps with the desire of conciliating her dreaded visitors.] Yeiy touching is the account given by the old chroni- clers of the meeting between the poor cacica and De Soto. Alighting from the litter in which she had travelled, car- ried by four of her subjects, the dusky princess came forward with gestures expressive of pleasure at the arrival of her guest, and taking from her own neck a heavy double string of pearls, she hung it on that of the Spaniard. Bowing with courtly grace, De Soto accepted the gift, and for a short time he kept up the semblance of friendship ; but having obtained from the queen all the information he wanted, he made her his prisoner, and robbed her and her people of all the valuables they possessed, including large numbers of pearls, found chiefly in the graves of natives of distinction. We are glad to be able to add that the poor queen effected her escape from her guards, taking with her a box of pearls which she had managed to regain and on which De Soto had set especial store. The home of the cacica appears to have been situated close to the Atlantic seaboard, and to have been amongst the villages visited by De Ayllon twenty years previ- ously, the natives having in their possession a dagger and D'Anvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 85 a string of beads, probably a rosary, which they said had belonged to the white men. Unwilling to go over old ground, the Spaniards now determined to alter their course, and, taking a northwesterly direction, they reached, in the course of a few months, the first spurs of the lofty Appalachian range, the formidable aspect of which so damped their courage that they turned back and wan- dered into the lowlands of what is now Alabama, ignorant that in the very mountains they so much dreaded were hidden large quantities of that yellow metal they had sought so long and so vainly. The autumn of 1540 found the party, their numbers greatly diminished, at a large village called Mavilla, close to the site of the modern Mobile, where the natives were gathered in considerable force ; and it soon became evi- dent that an attempt would be made to exact vengeance for the long course of oppression of which the white in- truders had been guilty in their two j^ears' wanderings. Intending to take possession of Mavilla in his usual high-handed manner, De Soto and a few of his men en- tered the palisades forming its defences, accompanied by the cacique, who, meek enough until he was within reach of his warriors, then turned upon his guests with some insulting speech and disappeared in a neighboring house. A dispute then ensued between a minor chief and one of the Spaniards. The latter enforced his view of the mat- ter at issue by a blow with his cutlass, and in an instant the town was in a commotion. From every house poured showers of arrows, and in a few minutes nearly all the Christians were slain. De Soto and a few others escaped, and, calling his forces together, the Spanish governor quickly invested the town. A terrible conflict, lasting nine hours, ensued, in which, as was almost inevitable, the white men were finally vic- I. 8 86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers torious, though not until they had lost many valuable lives and nearly all their property. Mavilla was burnt to ashes ; and when the battle was over, the Spaniards found themselves in an awful situation, — at a distance fx'om their ships, without food or medicines, and surrounded on all sides by enemies rendered desperate by defeat. The common soldiers, too, had by this time had enough of ex- ploration, and were eager to retui-n to the coast, there to await the return of the vessels which had been sent to Cuba for supplies. Evading the poor fellows' questions as to his plans, however, De Soto, who had received secret intelligence that his fleet was even now awaiting him in the Bay of Pensacola, but six days' journey from Mavilla, determined to make one more effort to redeem his honor by a discovery of importance. With this end in view he led his disheartened forces northward, and in December I'eached a small village, belonging to Chickasaw Indians, in the State of Mississippi, supposed to have been situated about N. lat. 32° 53', W. long. 90° 23'. In spite of constant petty hostilities with the Indians, the winter, which was severe enough for snow to fall, passed over peaceably ; but with the beginning of spring the usual arbitrary proceedings were resorted to by De Soto for procuring porters to carry his baggage in his next trip, and this led to a second terrible fight, in which the Spaniards were worsted and narrowly escaped extermi- nation. Had the Indians followed up their victor}^, not a white man would have escaped to tell the tale ; but ihey seem to have been frightened at their own success, and to have drawn back just as they had their persecutors at their feet. Rallying the remnant of his forces, and suj^plying the place of the uniforms which had been carried off by the enemy with skins and mats of ivy leaves, De Soto DAnvers] HERNANDO DE SOTO. 87 now led his strangely-transformed followers in a noru- westerly direction, and, completely crossing the modern State of Mississippi, arrived in May on the banks of the mighty river from which it takes its name, in about N. lat. 35°. Thus took place the discovery of the great Father of Waters, rolling by in unconscious majesty on its way from its distant birthplace in Minnesota to its final home in the Gulf of Mexico. To De Soto, however, it was no geo- graphical phenomenon, inviting him to trace its course and solve the secret of its origin, but a sheet of water, " half a league over," impeding his progi-ess, and his fii-st care was to obtain boats to get to the other side. [His succeeding movements may be epitomized. Building barges capable of carrying their horses, the Spaniards crossed the stream, and immediately opened hostilities with the Indians on the other side. They proceeded northward, constantly harassed by the natives, until they reached the region of the present State of Missouri, whose inhabitants took them for children of the Sun and brought out their blind to be restored to sight. After some missionary labors witli these Indians, De Soto proceeded westward, and encamped for the winter about the site of Little Rock, in Arkansas, after having reached the highlands of southwest Missouri, near the White Eiver.] But on resuming his researches in the ensuing spring, though worn out by continual wanderings and warfare, and deprived by death of his chief helper, Juan Ortiz, the indomitable explorer now endeavored to win over the In- dians by claiming supernatural powers and declaring him- self immortal ; but it was too late to inaugurate a new policy. The spot chosen for encampment turned out to be unhealthy ; the white men began to succumb to disease ; scouts sent out to explore the neighborhood for a more favorable situation brought back rumors of howling wil- dernesses, impenetrable woods, and, worst of all, of stealthy 88 AMERICAN HISTORY. [D'Anvers bands of Indians creeping up from every side to hem in and destroy the little knot of white men. Thus driven to bay, De Soto, who was now himself either attacked by disease or broken down by all he had undergone, determined at least to die like a man, and, calling the survivors of his once gallant company about him, he asked pardon for the evils he had brought upon those who had trusted in him, and named Lixis Moscoso de Alvaredo as his successor. On the following day. May 21, 1542, the unfortunate hero breathed his last, and was almost immediately buried secretly without the gates of the camp, Alvaredo fearing an immediate onslaught from the natives should the death of the hero who had claimed immortality be discovered. The newly-made grave, however, excited suspicion, and, finding it impossible to prevent it from being rifled by the inquisitive savages, Alvaredo had the corpse of his prede- cessor removed from it in the night, wrapped in cloths made heavy with sand, and drojjped from a boat into the Mississippi. The midnight funeral over, all further queries from the natives, as to what had become of the Child of the Sun, were answered by an assurance that he had gone to heaven for a time, but would soon return. Then, whilst the ex- pected return was still waited for, the camp was broken up as quietly as possible, and Alvaredo led his people west- ward, hoping, as CabcQa had done before him, to reach the Pacific coast. But, long months of wandering in pathless prairies bringing him apparently no nearer to the sea, and dread- ing to be overtaken in the wilderness by the winter, he turned back and retraced his steps to the Mississippi, where he once more pitched his camp, and spent six months in building boats, in which he hoped to go down McMuLLEN] DISCOVERF OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 89 the river to its outlet in the Gulf of Mexico. In this bold scheme he was successful. The embai'kation into seven roughly-constructed brigantines took place on the 2d July, 1543, and a voyage of seventeen days between banks lined with hostile Indians, who plied them unceasingly with their poisoned arrows, brought a few haggard, half- naked survivors to the longed-for gulf Fifty days later, after a weary cruise along the rugged coasts of what is now Louisiana and Texas, a party, still further reduced, landed at the Spanish settlement of Panuco, in Mexico, where they were received as men risen from the dead. THE DISCOVERY OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. JOHN McMULLEN. [The voyages of discovery to the northern coast of North America began with the expedition of John Cabot, in 1497, under the auspices of Henry VII. of England. His object was to seek not alone for new lands, but also for that northwest passage to the coast of Asia which gave rise to so many subsequent voyages to the Arctic seas. On the 26th of June, Cabot discovered land, most probably the island of Newfoundland. Continuing his coui-se, he reached the coast of Lab- rador on the 3d of July. He was, therefore, the first of modern navigators to discover the continent of America, which was not reached by Columbus till some thirteen months afterwards. He explored the coast for nine hundred miles to the southward, and returned to Eng- land. In the following year his son Sebastian made a voyage to the same region, with similar instructions to search for a northwest passage. The same object was sought, in 1527, by a fleet sent out bj' Henry VIII. The Portuguese also made early voyages in search of this illusory northwest passage. Gaspar Cortereal, in 1500, reached the American coast at fifty degrees of north latitude. On a second voyage his ship was lost, and his brother Miguel, who went in search of him, failed also to return. I. 8* 90 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen In 1524, Francis I. of France resolved to have his share in these dis- coveries, and in the benefits which might result from them. " What !" said he to his courtiers, "shall the kings of Spain and Portugal divide all America between them, without suflering me to taiie a share as their brother ? I would fain see the article in Adam's will that bequeaths that vast inheritance to them." Already some fishing captains had partly explored the coast. The fishermen of Breton have left their record of discovery in the name of Cape Breton. John Denys explored the Gulf of St. Lawrence as early as 1506. These hardy fishermen formed useful crews for succeeding voj'ages of discovery. Francis prepared a squadron of four ships, which he placed under command of Giovanni Verrazano, an experienced Italian navigator, who explored the Amer- ican coast from Carolina northward, probably visiting New York and Narragansett Bays. He also was in search of a passage to India, and became convinced that no such passage existed, and that the continent was continuous from the Straits of Magellan to Labrador. An ac- count of the succeeding French expedition, that of Cartier, we extract from " The History of Canada," by John McMullen.] In 1534 the French king fitted out a second expedition, the conduct of which he intrusted to Jacques Cartier, a fearless and skilful mariner, who had previously been engaged for several years in the fisheries on the Banks of Newfoundland, which even as early as 1517 already gave employment to some fifty English, French, Spanish, and Portuguese vessels. This expedition, consisting of two vessels of sixty tons each, sailed from St. Malo on the 20th of April, and on the 10th of May arrived at New- foundland, where it remained ten days. Proceeding north- ward, Cartier passed through the Straits of Belleisle, entered the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and landed at Gaspe, where, on the 24th of July, he erected a cross, surmounted by a fleur-de-lys, to commemorate his advent on the coast. A friendly intercourse with the natives enabled him to kidnap two men, with whom he sailed for France, where, on his arrival, he was well received by his sovereign. In the followin"- vear Cartier obtained a new commie ■ McMullen] disco VERF OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 91 sion from Francis, and sailed with three vessels direct for the Gulf of St. Lawrence, with instructions to explore its shores carefully, to establish a settlement, if at all practi- cable, and to opeu a traflSc for gold with the inhabitants. In the month of August, on the festival day of the martyr Lawrence, this navigator entered the great father of the northern waters, which he called after the saint. Pro- ceeding up its course, he found himself, in a few days, opposite the Indian village of Stadacona, then occupy- ing a portion of the ground on which the city of Quebec now stands. As the vessels came to an anchor the ter- rified natives fled to the forest, whence they gazed, with mingled feelings of awe and wonder, on the " winged canoes" which had borne the pale-faced strangers to their shores. These feelings were, however, much less intense than they must have otherwise been, owing to the rumors which from time to time had preceded Cartier's approach, and to the fact that they were well acquainted with the circumstance of his visit to Gaspe the previous year, and the outrage he had there perpetrated on their countrymen. This knowledge led the inhabitants of Stadacona to re- solve on a war}^ intercourse with the strangers. Their chief, Donacona, approached the vessels with a fleet of twelve canoes, filled with his armed followers. Ten of these canoes he directed to remain at a short distance, while he proceeded with the other two to ascertain the purport of the visit, — whether it was for peace or war. With this object in view, he commenced an oration. Cartier heard the chief patiently, and with the aid of the two Gaspe Indians, now tolerably proficient in the French language, he was enabled to open a conversation with him, and to allay his apprehensions. An amicable understand- ing having thus been established, Cartier moored his vessels safely in the river St. Charles, where, shortly 92 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen afterwards, he received a Becond visit from Donacona, who this time came accompanied by five hundred warriors of his tribe. Having thoroughly rested and refreshed himself and his men, Cartier determined to explore the river to Hochelaga, another Indian town, which he learned was situated several days' journey up its course. With the view of impressing the Indians with the superiority of the white man, he caused, prior to his departure, several cannon- shots to be discharged, which produced the desired result. Like their countrymen of the south on the arrival of Columbus, the red men of the St. Lawrence were alarmed by the firing of artillery ; and as its thunders reverberated among the surrounding hills, a feeling of mingled terror and astonishment took complete possession of their minds. Leaving his other ships safely at anchor, Cartier, on the 19th of September, proceeded up the river with the Hermerillon (which, owing to the shallowness of the water, he had to leave in Lake St. Peter) and two boats, and frequently came into contact ^vith small parties of the natives, whd treated him in the most friendly manner. Bold, and loving adventure for its own sake, and at the same time strongly imbued with religious enthusiasm, Cartier watched the shifting landscape hour after hour, as he ascended the river, with feelings of the deepest grati fication, which were heightened by the reflection that he was the pioneer of civilization and Christianity in that unknown clime. Nature presented itself in all its primi- tive grandeur to his view. The noble river on whose broad bosom he floated onwards day after day, disturbing vast flocks of water-fowl ; the primeval forests of the north, which here and there presented, amid the luxuriance of their foliage, the parasitical vine loaded with ripe clusters of luscious grapes, and from whence the strange notes of McMullen] discovery OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 93 the whippoorwill, and other birds of varied tone and plumage, such as he had never before seen, were heard at intervals; the bright sunshine of a Canadian autumn ; the unclouded moonlight of its calm and pleasant nights, with the other novel accessories of the occasion, made a sublime and profound impression upon the mind of the adventurer. Delighted with his journey, Cartier arrived, on the 2d of October, opposite the Huron village of Hochelaga, the inhabitants of which lined the shore on his approach, and made the most friendly signs for him to land. Sup- plies of fish and maize were freely tendered by the In- dians, in return for which they received knives and beads. Despite this friendly conduct, however, Cartier and his companions deemed it most prudent to pass the night on board their boats. On the following day, headed by their leader dressed in the most imposing costume at his com- mand, the exploring party went in procession to the vil- lage. At a short distance from its environs they were met by the sachem, who received them with that solemn courtesy peculiar to the aborigines of America. Cartier made him several presents : among these was a cross, which he hung round his neck and directed him to kiss. Patches of ripe corn encircled the village, which consisted of fifty substantially-built huts, secured from attack by three lines of stout palisades. Like the natives of Mexico and Peru, the Hochelagians regarded the white men as a superior race of beings, who came among them as friends and benefactors. Impressed with this idea, they con- ducted them in state to their council lodge and brought their sick to be healed. Cartier was at once too com- pletely in their power and too politic to undeceive them. It is recorded that he did everything he could to soothe their minds; that he even prayed with these idolaters, 94 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMttllen and distributed crosses and other symbols of the Catholic faith among them. The introductory ceremony concluded, Cartier ascended the mountain behind Hochelaga, to which he gave the name of Mont Roj^al, subsequently corrupted into Mon- treal. From a point near its summit a noble prospect met his view. Interminable forests stretched on every side, their deep gloom broken at harmonious intervals by hills and rivers and island-studded lakes. Simple as were the natives of Hochelaga, they appeared to have some knowledge of the geography of their country. From them Cartier learned that it would take three months to sail in their canoes up the course of the majestic river which flowed beneath them, and that it ran through sev- eral great lakes, the farthest one of which was like a vast sea. Beyond this lake was another large river (the Mis- sissippi), which pursued a southerly course through a region free from ice and snow. With the precious metals they appeared but xqyj partially acquainted. Of copper they had a better knowledge, and stated that it was found at the Saguenay. Favorably as Cartier had been i-eceived, the lateness of the season compelled his immediate return to Stada- cona. The Indians expressed their regret at the short- ness of the visit, and accompanied the French to theii boats, which they followed for some time, making signs of farewell. The expedition did not, however, find all the natives equally friendly. While bivouacking one night on the bank of the river, they would probably have all been massacred, but for a timely retreat to their boats. Car- tier had a narrow escape, and owed his life to the intre- pidity of his boatswain, an Englishman. The adventurers wintered in the St. Charles Eiver, and continued to be treated with apparent kindness and hos- McMullen] discovert OF THE ST. LAWRENCE. 95 pitality by the Stadaconians, who had, fortunately, laid up abundant stores of provisions. Unaccustomed, how- ever, to the rigor of a Canadian winter, and scantily sup- plied with warm clothing, Cartier and his companions suffered severely from the cold. To add to their other misfortunes, scurvy, the terror of the seaman in those days, made its appearance, and, in conjunction with a dis- ease produced by a licentious intercourse with the natives, speedily carried off twenty-five of their number. To a decoction from the bark of the spruce-fir, taken on the recommendation of the Indians, the remainder ascribed their restoration to health. The long winter at length drew to a close ; the ice broke up, and, although the voyage had led to no gold- discoveries or profitable returns in a mercantile point of view, the expedition prepared to return home. Like other adventurers of that age, they requited the kindness and hospitality of the aborigines with the basest ingrati- tude. They compelled Donacona, with two other chiefs and eight warrioi'S, to bear them company to France, where the greater part of these unfortunate men died soon after their arrival. [Cartier made a second visit to the St. Lawrence in 1540, in com- mand of a fleet fitted out by De Eoberval, a rich nobleman of France. As he failed to bring back their chief, the inhabitants of Stadacona received him with indications of hostility.] Finding his position with the inhabitants of Stadacona becoming daily more and more unpleasant, Cartier moved higher up the river to Cape Eouge, where he laid up three of his vessels, and sent the other two back to France, with letters to the king and Eoberval, stating the success of his voyage and asking for supplies. His next proceeding was to erect a fort, which he called 98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [McMullen Charlesbourg. Here, after an unsuccessful attempt to navigate the rapids above Hochelaga, he passed a most uncomfortable winter. During the ensuing summer he occupied himself in examining the country in every di- rection, and in searching for gold, but of which he only procured a few trifling specimens in the beds of some dried rivulets. A few small diamonds were discovered in a headland near Stadacona, which was therefore called Cape Diamond, a name it still retains. The promised supplies not having arrived, another se- vere winter completely disheartened Cartier, and he ac- cordingly resolved to return home. Putting into the har- bor of St. John, Newfoundland, he encountered Eoberval who was now on his way to Canada, with a new company of adventurers and an abundance of stores and provisions. The viceroy endeavored to persuade Cartier to return with him, but without effect. He and his companions were alike disheartened with the extreme cold and pro- longed duration of a Canadian winter, and this circum- stance, in connection with the other hardships to which they had been exposed, caused them to long earnestly to return to their own sunny France. To avoid further im- portunity, a possible quarrel, and forcible detention, Car- tier caused his sailors to weigh anchor during the night. After a tolerably quick passage, he arrived safely in his native country, where he died shortly after his return, having, like many others, sacrificed health and fortune to a passion for discovery and a desire to acquire gold. [Roberval returned to France, after spending the winter in Canada. He subsequently started with another expedition for the same region. This fleet was never heard of again, and probably foundered at sea. The results of these efforts so discouraged the French that no similar attempt was made for many years afterwards.] Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 97 THE MASSACRE OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS. WALTER BESANT. [The first earnest eifort to establish a French colony in America was made in the interest of the French Protestants at the instigation of the celebrated Admiral Coligny. His primary effort in this direction was made in Brazil. The northern shores of that country, as we have already stated, had been discovered by Pinzon in 1499. In 1500 a Portuguese fleet under Pedro Alvarez Cabral, on a voyage to the East Indies by way of the Cape of Good Hope, sailed so far westward as to touch the coast of southern Brazil. A fort was built, in which a few men were left, and gradually, during the succeeding j^ears, small Por- tuguese settlements spread along the coast. From time to time this coast was visited by the French, mainly on piratical enterprises, and a state of war existed for years between the French and Portuguese in the waters of Brazil. In 1555, Coligny sent a colony to this region under Villegagnon, a French adventurer. It was established on an island in the Bay of Rio Janeiro. But the place proved so unsuitable, the colony was made up of such disreputable and vicious elements, and the leader proved so worthless and treacherous, that the settlement, after languishing for four years, yielded to an attack from the Portu- guese, and was swept out of existence. In 1562, Coligny made a second effort to establish a refuge for French Protestants in America. An expedition was sent to Florida under command of John Eibaut. He reached the coast in May, and discov- ered a stream which he called the River of May (now St. John's River). Proceeding thence to Port Royal, near the southern border of Carolina, he erected a fort, and left twenty-six men, returning to France for emi- grants and supplies* The promised reinforcement not arriving, the colonists abandoned the fort and embarked for home in a brigantine of their own construction. Like the Brazilian colonists, they had not taken the trouble to cultivate the soil, and were driven by famine from America to encounter a worse famine at sea. They were saved from death by an English vessel which they fortunately met off the coast of England. In 1564 another expedition was sent out by Coligny, and a colony established on the St. John's River under Laudonniere, one of Ribaut's I. — E g 9 98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant original company. It was managed with the same improvidence as the former ones, and to escape starvation a party of the emigrants embarked for France. But instead of returning they commenced a career of piracy against the Spaniards. The remainder were on the point of leaving the country, when Kibaut appeared, with seven ves- sels and about six hundred emigrants. Meanwhile, news had arrived in Spain that a party of French heretics had settled in Florida, which was claimed as Spanish territory. Menendez, who had already estab- lished a reputation for brutality in America, was sent out to extirpate them. Up to this point the conflicts of Europeans upon American soil had been with the natives, with the exception of the piratical pro- ceedings above adverted to. Now the wars of Europeans with one another were about to be inaugurated in a brutal massacre, the story of which we give in the graphic account of Walter Besant, selected from his " Gaspard de Coligny."] The expedition under Menendez consisted of an army of two thousand six hundred soldiers and officers. He sailed straight for Florida, intending to attack Fort Caro- line "with no delay. In fact, he sighted the mouth of the port two months after starting ; but, considering the posi- tion occupied by the French ships, he judged it prudent to defer the attack, and make it, if possible, from the land. A council of war was held in Fort Caroline, presided over by Eibaut. Laudonniere proposed that, while Eibaut held the fort with the ships, he, with his old soldiers, who knew the country well, aided by the Floridans as auxil- iaries, should engage the Spaniards in the woods and harass them by perpetual combats in labj'rinths to which they were wholly unaccustomed. The advice was good, but it was not followed. Eibaut proposed to follow the Spanish fleet with his own, — lighter and more easily handled, — fall on the enemy when the soldiers were all disembarked, and, after taking and burning the ships, to attack the army. Besaxt] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 99 In the face of remonstrances from all the officers he persisted in this project. Disaster followed the attempt. A violent gale arose. The French ships were wrecked upon the Floridan coast ; the men lost their arms, their powder, and their clothes; they escaped with their bare lives. There was no longer the question of conquering the Spaniards, but of saving themselves. The gai'rison of Caroline consisted of one hundred and fifty soldiers, of whom forty were sick. The rest of the colony was com- posed of sick and wounded, Protestant ministers, work- men, "royal commissioners," and so forth. Laudonniere was in command. They awaited the attack for several days, yet the Spaniards came not. They were wading miserably through the marshes in the forests, under trop- ical rains, discouraged, and out of heart. Had Laudon- niere's project been carried out, not one single Spaniard would have returned to the fleet to tell the tale. Day after daj" the soldiers toiled, sometimes breast-high, through these endless marshes, under the rain which never ceased. The provisions were exhausted. Many of the soldiers remained behind, or returned to St. Augus- tine, pretending to have lost their way. The officers asked each other loudly whether they were all to be killed in a bog through the ignorance of an Asturian, who knew no more about war than a horse. Menendez pretended not to hear, and they plodded on, mutinous and discon- tented, till their leader suddenly pointed out, through the branches of the trees, the earthworks and cannon of Fort Caroline. He invited his officers to make up their minds to an immediate attack or a retreat. Seven of them pro- posed a retreat : they would live on palmistes and roots on the way. But the majority declared for advance, and the attack was resolved upon. For some reason unexplained, the French sentinels 100 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant chose this fatal moment to leave their posts. There was actually no watch on the ramparts. Three companies of Sjjaniards simultaneously rushed from the forest and at- tacked the fortress on the south, the west, and the south- west. There was but little resistance from the surprised garrison. There was hardly time to grasp a sword. About twenty escaped by flight, including the captain, Laudonniere ; the rest were every one massacred. None were spared excejjt women and children under fifteen ; and, in the first rage of the onslaught, even these were murdered with the rest. There still lay in the port three ships, commanded hj Jacques Eibaut, brother of the unfortunate governor. One of these was quickly sent to the bottom by the cannon of the fort; the other two cut their cables and slipped out of reach into the roadstead, where they lay, waiting for a favorable wind, for three days. They picked up the fugitives who had been wandering half starved in the woods, and then set sail from this unlucky land. [Meanwhile, Kibaut's shipwrecked crew were wandering along the shore of Florida, fifty miles from Tort Caroline. They were ignorant of the loss of the fort, and made their way with difficulty through the woods, until, to their despair, they saw the Spanish flag flying over its ramparts.] There was nothing for it but to retreat again. The unfortunate Frenchmen began miserably to retrace their steps through the wet and gloomy forest, eating leaves, herbs, and roots. Their last misfortune was that they knew nothing of the new Spanish settlement [of St. Augustine, established by Menendez], and so directed their course as exactly to arrive at it. Menendez saw from a distance the arrival of the first band of two hundred. They were like a crowd of ship- wi-eeked sailors, destitute of the power of resistance, feeble Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 101 from long fasting, fatigued with their long march. He had with him a troop of forty men. A river ran between the French and the Spaniards. A Basque swam across the stream, and asked for a safe-conduct for Eibaut, who had not yet arrived, and four gentlemen. Menendez would accord, he said, an audience to an officer. One Yasseur, accompanied by two or three soldiers, crossed over the river and was brought to the Spanish commander. Me- nendez began by apprising him of the captiu-e of Caroline and the massacre of the garrison. He confirmed the truth of his story by causing two prisoners, spared as Catholics, to relate it themselves. He coldly told Yasseur that all those who were Protestants should suffer the same fate, or at least that he would not promise otherwise. There was but one alternative. The French could trust to the possible clemency of Menendez, or they could take to the woods. In the latter case they would certainly starve ; in the former, they might escape with their lives. It seemed incredible that a man should, in cold blood, resolve to massacre two hundred unarmed men. They laid down their arms. They were brought across the river in small companies, and their hands tied behind their backs. On landing, they were asked if they were Catholics. Eight out of the two hundred professed allegiance to that religion ; the rest were all Protestants. Menendez traced out a line on the ground with his cane. The prisoners were marched up one by one to the line ; on reaching it, they were stabbed. The next day Eibaut arrived with the rest of the army. The same pourparlers began. But this time a blacker treachery was adopted. Menendez did not himself receive the officer sent to treat. He deputed a certain Yallemonde. This creature received the French deputy with unexpected civility. His captain, he said, was a man of extraordinary I. 9* 102 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant clemency. It was true that Caroline had fallen, but the garrison, women, and children were all put on board ship, with provisions, and were now on their way to France. Finally, if the French laid down their arms, he, Valle- monde, would pledge his word of honor on the sacred cross, which he kissed devoutly, that all their lives should be spared. It is not clear how many of the French accepted the conditions. A certain number refused them, and escaped into the woods. "What is certain is that Ribaut, with nearly all his men, were tied back to back, four together. Those who said they were Catholics were set on one side; the rest were all massacred as they stood. A rage for slaughter — the blood-thirst — seized the Spanish soldiers. They fell upon their victims, and stabbed and hacked both the living and the dead. The air was horrible with their oaths and cries. The work of murder was soon over. In a very few moments there was not a cry, nor a sound, nor a movement, among the whole four hun- dred prisoners now lying upon the ground, the maddened soldiers still stabbing their lifeless bodies. Outside the circle of the slaughtered and the slaughterers stood the priest, Mendoza, encouraging, approving, exhorting the butchers. With him, calm, serene, and joyful, with a prayer of thanksgiving on his lips, stood the murderer, Menendez. The slaughter completed, they set up enormous piles of wood and burned the bodies on them. On the trees near the scene of the massacre Menendez caused to be in- scribed, " Slaughtered not as Frenchmen, but as Luther- ans." As for the corpse of Ribaut, he had it flayed, and sent the skin to Europe, with cuttings from the beard, as gifts to his friends. [Those who had escaped to the woods built a small fort, defended Besant] massacre OF FRENCH PROTESTANTS. 103 themselves, were offered terms of surrender, and were all sent to the galleys. The reception of this news in France raised a storm of in- dignation. As the court made no movement of reprisal, the French sailors took revenge into their own hands. Fast-sailing privateers were sent out, which captured the rich Spanish galleons and inflicted enormous losses. English buccaneers followed the example, and Spain paid dearly in treasure for the bloody act of Menendez. One soldier, Dominique de Gourgues, who had been in the Spanish galleys and hated the Spaniards vehemently, resolved on a more direct revenge. With difficulty he equipped three small ships, which he manned with one hundred and eighty men. The purpose of his expedition was kept secret ; only the captains of his ships knew of it. It was in the early part of 1568 that he appeared off the coast of Florida. He landed his men, gained the alliance of the natives, who bitterly hated the Spaniards, and began a painful and difficult march overland, at- tended by thousands of Indian warriors.] The Spaniards were extending their fortifications out- side Caroline itself. At one place the lines had only been drawn, and the works as yet were only just commenced. Here the attack was to take place. The story reads almost exactly like that of the Span- iards when they took the fort by surprise. Entirely without suspicion, the garrison were taking their dinner. Suddenly, a musket-shot, and the cry of " The French ! the French !" There were sixty men in this, the outwork. They were all killed. But there remained the second fort. De Gourgues turned the cannon on it, and a lively artillery fight began. The Floridans at this moment emerged from the woods. A detachment of French attacked the fort in the rear. The Spaniards, ignorant of the number of the enemy, lost their heads. The second fort was taken with a rush, and all the Spaniards killed except fifteen, whom De Gourgues ordered to be bound and kept in safety for the moment. There yet remained Fort Caroline itself Here there were three hundred combatant men. De Gourgues 104 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Besant surrounded the fort with his Indians, and prevented any spy from coming out, so that the besieged had no notion of the numbers of their assailants. The commandant, in surprise and indecision, allowed two days to pass before doing anything. Then he sent out a spy disguised as an Indian. He was caught, and, being brought before De Gourgues, he had the imprudence to confess that the gar- rison was horribly discouraged, believing the French to be two thousand strong. Thereupon De Gourgues resolved upon an immediate attack. The Spaniai'ds thought that his little army, all of which was now in sight, was "only an advance-guard. The French, thinking the moment inoj)portune, retired into the wood again to watch. The Spaniards sent out a body of sixty, with the view of drawing them out into the open. De Gourgues detached twenty of his own men to place them- selves in ambush between the fort and the sortie, so as to cut off their retreat. Then, before the Spaniards had time to form themselves, he poured a murderous fire into their ranks, and rushed upon them, sword in hand. They turned to fly, and were met by the ambuscade. Not one returned to the fort. The rest of the French rushed tumultuously out of the wood, and all together, headed by De Gourgues, they crowded into the citadel. A panic seized the Spaniards. They allowed themselves to be cut down almost without resistance. Out of the whole force of three hundred, De Gourgues only managed to save sixty. He would have saved more, to make his revenge more complete. As it was, he wrote an inscription, which he placed so that all could see, — " I do this not to Spaniards, but to traitors, thieves, and murderers." Then he hanged them up, every one, the Floridans looking on aghast. This done, he destroyed the fort and * HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 105 returned to France. He was received with enthusiasm at Eochelle, an entirely Protestant town. THE COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. MARY HOWITT. [The sixteenth century may justly be called the century of discov- ery. The bold push of Columbus across the ocean to America and of Vasco da Gama around Africa to the East Indies broke the chains of timidity with which the world had hitherto been bound. They were followed by a succession of daring and reckless navigators, who quickly made the world their home, and sought new lands with an avidity and enthusiasm with which the thirst for fame and the spirit of adventure had as much to do as the love of gold. The English were somewhat late in following the lead of the Spanish, Portuguese, and French dis- coverers, but prosecuted their researches with vigor after they had once commenced. One of their adventurers, Sir John Hawkins, engaged in the slave-trade, which had been early instituted by the Spaniards, and carried cargoes of negroes to the West Indies in 1562 and 1564. In 1567 he was in the Gulf of Mexico, in conflict with the Spaniards at San Juan de Ulloa, in which expedition he was accompanied by the celebrated Sir Francis Drake. In 1570, Drake started on a pri- vateering excursion against the Spaniards, and for years he did them immense damage. In 1573 he crossed the Isthmus and attacked the Spanish settlements on the Pacific shores. In 1577 he sailed south- ward along the Brazilian coast, entered the Eio de la Plata (which had been discovered in 1526 by Sebastian Cabot), and passed through the Straits of Magellan. Thence he followed the coasts of Chili and Peru, attacking the Spanish ships and settlements as he advanced, and ex- plored the shores of western America as far north as 48° N. lat., in the hope of discovering a passage to the Atlantic. He returned home by way of the Cape of Good Hope, accomplishing the first circum- navigation of the globe by an Englishman. Attempts were made in the same period to discover a northwestern passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific by Willoughby and Chancellor, Frobisher, Henry Hudson, and others. But the only efforts during this century to found an 106 AMERICAN HISTORY. [HowiTi Enpjlish colony on the shores of the New World were those made by Sir Walter Kaleigh. These we may describe in detail in a selection chosen from Mary Howitt's charmingly- written " History of the United States."] Joint-stock companies for the discovery of unknown lands were first formed in 1555. The marriage of Mary with Philip of Spain brought the magnificent discoveries and productions of that country into a closer proximity with England, and a desire to emulate the successes of Sj)ain in the New "World was excited. The spirit of Elizabeth seconded that of her people. The nation had now assumed a more determined and a prouder front in their resentment of the attempt of S^Dain to render them an appendage to the Spanish crown, and by the successful struggle of Protestantism against Cathol- icism. England strengthened her navy; frequented the bays and banks of Newfoundland; sent out adventurers to Eussia and Africa ; endeavored to reach Persia by land, and enlarged her commerce with the East, whilst her priva- teers lay in wait at sea for the rich galleons of Spain. The study of geography was universally cultivated, and books of travels and adventures by land and sea were eagerly read. Erobisher, the boldest mariner who ever crossed the ocean, set forth to discover the long-sought-for northwest passage, and Queen Elizabeth waved her hand to him in token of favor, as he sailed down the Thames. Erobisher, like all the rest of the world, hoped to find gold. If the Spaniards had found gold in the south, England was con- fident of finding gold in the north. Elizabeth entered en- thusiastically into the scheme of planting a colony among the wealthy mines of the polar regions, where gold, it was said, lay on the surftice of the ground. Erobisher was followed by a second fleet, but they found only frost and icebei'srs. HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 107 Whilst Frobisher and his ships were thus vainly endeav- oring to find an El Dorado in the north, Sir Francis Drake was acquiring immense wealth as a freebooter on the Span- ish main, and winning great glory by circumnavigating the globe, after having explored the northwestern coast of America as far north as the forty-third degree. Sir Hum- phrey Gilbert, also, a man of sound judgment and deeply religious mind, obtained a charter from Queen EUzabeth in 1578 for the more rational purposes of colonization. He set sail with three vessels, accompanied by his step- brother, Sir Walter Ealeigh ; but a series of disasters befell them ; the largest vessel was wrecked, and a hundred per- ished, among whom was Parmenius, a Hungarian scholar, who had gone out as historian of the expedition. On the homeward voyage they were overtaken by a great storm. " We are as near to heaven on sea as on land," said Sir Humphrey Gilbert, sitting abaft with a book in his hand. And the same night his little vessel went down, and all on board perished. The brave spirit of Sir Walter Ealeigh was not dis- couraged, though he deeply deplored the loss of his noble step-brother. He resolved now to secure to England those glorious countries where the poor French Protestants had suffered so deeply, and a patent was readily granted, constituting him lord proprietary, with almost unlimited powei's, according to the Christian Protestant faith, of all land which he might discover between the thirtj'-third and fortieth degrees of north latitude. Under this jjatent Ealeigh despatched, as avant-courier ships, two vessels, under the command of Philip Amidas and Arthur Bar- low. In the month of July they reached the coast of North America, having perceived, while far out at sea, the fragrance as of a delicious garden, from the odoriferous flowers of the shore. Finding, after some search, a con- 108 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt venient harbor, they landed, and, offering thanks to God for their safe arrival, took formal possession 'in the name of the Queen of England. The spot on which they landed was the island of Wo- coken. The shores of this part of America are peculiar, inasmuch as during one portion of the year they are ex- posed to fui'ious tempests, against which the low flat shore affords no defence of harborage ; in the summer season, on the contrary, the sea and air are alike tranquil, the whole presenting the most paradisiacal aspect, whilst the vegeta- tion is calculated to strike the beholder with wonder and de- light. The Enghsh strangers beheld the country under its most favorable circumstances ; the grapes being so plentiful that the surge of the ocean, as it lazily rolled in upon the shore, dashed its spray upon the clusters. " The forests formed themselves into wonderfull}^ beautiful bowers, fre- quented by multitudes of birds. It was like a garden of Eden, and the gentle, friendly inhabitants appeared in uni- son with the scene. On the island of Eoanoke they were received by the wife of the king, and entertained with Arcadian hospitality." [The report taken to England aroused high enthusiasm. An ex- pedition was sent, sailing on the 9th of April, 1585, under Sir Eichard Grenville, and consisting of seven vessels and one hundred and fifty- colonists. They reached Koanoke Island, where they quickly roused the natives to hostility by burning a village and destroying the standing corn on suspicion of the theft of a silver cup.] The colonists, however, landed, and soon afterwards the ships returned to England, Grenville taking a rich Spanish prize by the way. Lane [the governor] and his colonists explored the country, and Lane wrote home, " It is the goodliest soil under the cope of heaven ; the most pleasing territory in the world ; the continent is of a huge and un- HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 109 known greatness, and very well peopled and towned, though savagely. The climate is so wholesome that we have none sick. If Virginia had but horses and kine and were in- habited by English, no realm in Christendom were com- parable with it." Harlot's observations were directed to "the natural inhabitants," and to the ^productions of the colony with reference to commerce ; he observed the culture of tobacco, used it himself, and had great faith in its salutary quahties ; he paid great attention to the maize and the po- tato, "which he found when boiled to be good eating." . . . In the mean time, the mass of the colonists, who were rabid for gold, listened to wonderful tales invented by art- ful Indians, who wished to be rid of these awe-inspiring strangers. The river Eoanoke, they said, gushed forth from a rock near the Pacific Ocean ; that a nation dwelt upon its remote banks, skilful in refining gold, and that they occupied a city the walls of which glittered with pearls. Even Sir Eichard Lane was credulous enough to believe these tales, and ascended the river with a party in order to reach this golden region. They advanced onward, finding nothing, till they were reduced to the utmost ex- tremity of famine. The Indians, disappointed by their return, resolved to cultivate no more corn, so that they might be driven from the country by want, and the Eng- lish, divining their views, having invited the chief to a conference, fell upon him and slew him, with many of his followers. Lane was unfit for his office. This act of treachery exasperated the Indians to such a degree that they would no longer give him supplies. The colony was about to perish by famine, as the Indians desired, when Sir Francis Drake appeared outside the harbor with a fleet of twenty-three ships. He was on his way from the West Indies, and was now come to visit his friends. No visit could have been more opportune or more welcome. I. 10 110 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt [At the request of the colonists, Drake carried them to England. Yet he had hardly gone before a vessel despatched by Kaleigh arrived, laden with supplies. Finding that the colony had vanished, the vessel returned, and it had but fairly disappeared when Sir Kichard Grenville arrived with three ships. After searching in vain for the missing colony, he also returned, leaving fifteen men on Koanoke Island to hold possession for the English. Kaleigh, not discouraged by this failure, sent out another colony, this time choosing agriculturists, and sending their wives and children with the emigrants. Implements of husbandry were also sent. On reaching Eoanoke they found only the bones of the fifteen men whom Grenville had left, while their fort was in ruins. The new governor. Captain John White, proved an unfortu- nate choice, since he at once made an unprovoked assault vipon the Indians. Wliite quickly returned with the ships to England for sup- plies and reinforcements.] "When White reached England he found the whole nation absorbed by the threats of a Spanish invasion : Ealeigh, Gren- ville, and Lane, Frobisher, Drake, and Hawkins, all were em- ployed in devising measures of resistance. It was twelve months before Ealeigh, who had to depend almost entirely upon his own means, was able to despatch White with sup plies: this he did in two vessels. White, who wished to profit by his voyage, instead of at once returning without loss of time to his colony, went in chase of Spanish prizes, until at length one of his ships was overpowered, boarded, and rifled, and both compelled to return to England. This delay was fatal. The great events of the Spanish Armada took place, after which Sir Walter Ealeigh found himself embarrassed with such a fearful amount of debt that it was no longer in his power to attempt the colonization of Virginia ; nor was it till the following year that White was able to return, and then also through the noble efforts of Sir Walter Ealeigh, to the unhappy colony Eoanoke. Again tlie island was a desert. An inscription on the bark of a tree indicated Croatan ; but the season of the year, and the Ho^iTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. HI danger of storms, furnished an excuse to White for not going thither. What was the fate of the colony never was known. It has been conjectured that through the friend- ship) of Manteo (an Indian chief) they had probably escaped to Croatan ; perhajjs had been, when thus cruell}' neglected by their countrymen, received into a friendly tribe of Indians, and became a portion of the children of the forest. The Indians had, at a later day, a tradition of this kind, and it has been thought that the physical character of the Hatteras Indians bore out the tradition. The kind-hearted and noble Raleigh did not soon give up all hopes of his little colony. Five different times he sent out at his own expense to seek for them, but in vain. The mystery which veils the fate of the colonists of Roanoke will never be solved in this world. . . . The fisheries of the north and the efforts of Sir Walter Raleigh at colonization had trained a race of men for dis- covery. One of these, Bartholomew Gosnold, determined upon sailing direct from England to America, without touching at the Canaries and the West Indies, as had hitherto been the custom ; and, with the aid of Raleigh, he " wellnigh secured to New England the honor of the first permanent English colony." He sailed in a small vessel directly across the ocean (in 1602), and in seven wrecks reached the shores of Massachusetts, but, not finding a good harbor, sailed southward, and discovered and landed on a promontory which he called Cape Cod, which name it retains to this day. Sailing thence, and still pursuing the coast, he discovered various islands, one of which he called Elizabeth, after the queen, and another Martha's Yineyard. The vegetation was rich ; the land covered with magnificent forests ; and wild fruits and flowers burst from the earth in unimagined luxuriance, — the eglantine, the thorn, and the honeysuckle ; the wild pea, tansy, and young 112 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt sassafras ; strawberries, raspberries, and vines. In the island was a little lake, and in the lake a rocky islet, and here the colonists resolved to build their storehouse and fort, the nucleus of the first New England colony. The natural features of the place, the historian tells us, remain un- changed: the island, the little lake, and the islet are all there ; the forests are gone, while the flowers and fruit are as abundant as ever. But no trace remains of the fort. Friendly traffic with the natives of the mainland soon completed- a freight, which consisted of furs and sassafras, and Gosnold was about to sail, when the hearts of the in- tending colonists failed them ; they dreaded the attack of Indians and the want of necessary supplies from home. All, therefore, re-embarked, and in five weeks reached Eng- land. Gosnold and his companions brought home such favor- able reports of the country and the shortness of the voy- age that the following year a company of Bristol merchants despatched two small vessels, under the command of Mar- tin Bring, for the purpose of exploring the country and commencing a trade with the natives; They carried out with them trinkets and merchandise suited for such traffic, and their voyage was eminently successful. They discov- ered some of the principal rivers of Maine, and examined the coast of Massachusetts as far south as Martha's Vine- yard. The whole voyagQ occupied but six months. Bring repeated his voyage in 1606, making still more accurate surveys of the country. [The coast of New England was further surveyed by an expedition despatched by the Earl of Southampton and Lord Arundel and com- manded by George "Weymouth. He explored the coast of Labrador, and discovered the Penobscot River. Captain John Smith also made an exploration of the coast in 1614, advanced into Massachusetts Bay ' till he came up into the river between Mishawam, afterwards called HowiTT] COLONIES OF SIR WALTER RALEIGH. 113 Charlestown, and Shawmutt, afterwards called Boston, and, having made discovery of the land, rivers, coves, and creeks in the said bay, and also taken some observation of the manners, dispositions, and sundry customs of the numerous Indians, or nations inhabiting the same, he returned to England." He gave to the country the name of New England, which it still retains. In 1598 the Marquis de la Koche endeavored to found a French colony in America, and peopled Sable Island, on the const of Nova Scotia, with the refuse of the jails. After languishing here for twelve years, they were allowed to return, and the colony was abandoned. In 1605, De Monts, a French gentleman, formed a colony at a place named by him Port Koyal, in the Bay of Fundy, which proved to be the first permanent French settlement in America. The whole countiy, including the present New Brunswick, Nova Scotia, and the adjacen| islands, was called Acadia. In the succeeding year (1606) the London Company sent three vessels to Eoanoke, which were driven by a storm into Chesapeake Bay. Here they discovered the James Kiver, up whicli stream they sailed fifty miles, and selected a place for a settlement, which they named Jamestown. Here was formed the first permanent English colony in America, one hundred and fourteen years after the discovery of the New World by Columbus.] I— A 10* 114 AMERICAN HISTORY. SECTION III. THE ERA OF SETTLEMENT. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. During the sixteenth century the work of colonizing America was left almost entirely to the people of Spain. "While the other nations of Euroj)e were contenting them- selves with occasional voyages of discovery, or with slave- carrying expeditions and piratical raids, the Spaniards were extending their dominion in the New World with a rapidity and energy in striking contrast with theu' present supine- ness. Colonization in the West Indies began immediately after the first voyage of Columbus, and was prosecuted with such vigor that in a few years the four larger islands were completely under Spanish control, and their native inhabitants largely annihilated, while the remainder were reduced to slavery. The settlement of the mainland was prosecuted with similar activity. Colonies were established on the coasts of South and Central America, and in 1519 Cortes began that memorable expedition which soon sub- jected the Aztec empire of Mexico to his sway. From this region the Spanish dominion extended south through- out Central America, and northward to CaHfornia and New Mexico, which Coronado invaded in 1540. South America was settled with no less rapidity. The conquest of Mexico was quickly followed by that of the extensive empire of Peru. Chili was conquered in 1541, with the exception of INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 115 the country of the Araueanians, the only Indian nation which has successfully held its own against European inva- sion. In a comparatively short time the whole of western South America from the lower boundary of Chili to the Caribbean coast was Spanish ten-itory. In 1535, Buenos Ayres was colonized by Mendoza. These first colonists were driven to Paraguay by the Indians, but in 1580 Juan de Garay founded a more successful colony. Among the most remarkable examples of Spanish activity was the ex- pedition of Orellana in 1541. In 1540, Gonzalo Pizarro left Quito with an expedition that crossed the Andes and jour- neyed eastward through the forests of western Brazil till stopped by peril of starvation. Then a brigantine was built, which, manned by a cavalier named Orellana, sailed down the river Napo to its junction with the Amazons, and down the latter great stream to the Atlantic, thus accom- pHshing the crossing of the South American continent at its widest part nearly three centui-ies before such a result was achieved in the parallel section of North America. In the region of the United States the Spaniards were no less active in exploration, as shown by the expeditions of Narvaez and De Soto ; yet but one small settlement was made, — that of St. Augustine, in Florida. The only other people who showed any colonizing activ- ity in the sixteenth century were the Portuguese, who slowly spread their settlements along the coast of Brazil, until by the end of the century the whole line of coast from the La Plata to the Amazons was studded with their colonies. These had the merit of being the first settlements made in America on agricultm-al principles, the desire for the precious metals being the active moving cause in all the Spanish explorations and colonizations. During this period a few unsuccessful efforts to establish colonies marked the hmit of activity in the other nations of Eui'oj)e. A 116 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell French colony on the coast of Brazil was suppressed by the Portuguese, and a similar colony in Florida ended in massacre. French efforts in the region of the St. Lawrence were equally unsuccessful, while the English colonies of Ealeigh ended in disaster. The only permanent settlement was that made by some Dutch people in 1580, near the river Pomeroon, in Guiana. In 1595, Ealeigh made an ex- pedition to this region, and ascended the Orinoco in search of the fabled El Dorado. He attempted no settlement, but in the succeeding century EngUsh and French settlers es- tablished themselves in Guiana, dividing the ownership of this territory with the Dutch. Such was the result of the efforts at colonization in America during' the sixteenth century. From the northern hne of Mexico to the southern extremity of the continent the Spanish and Portuguese had established themselves in nearly every available region. But North America from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean was still in the hands of the aboriginal inhabitants, with the sole exception of the Spanish colony of St. Augustine, in Florida. The seventeenth century was destined to be the era of settle- ment of this important region, mainly by the English and French, but to a minor extent by the Dutch and Swedes. The story of this seventeenth-century colonization we have now to tell. JOHN SMITH AND THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. CHAELES CAMPBELL. [The return of Bartholomew Gosnold, after his voyage to North America, and his account of the country he had visited, led to the formation of a company for the purpose of forming colonies on these new shores. The Virginia Company, thus called into being, received Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLON V. II7 the right to hold all the land from Cape Fear to the St. Croix Paver. This company comprised two divisions, — the London Company, with control over the southern part of the territory, and the Plymouth Company, controlling the northern. Under the auspices of the Lon- don Company the first permanent English colony in America was founded. Three vessels, under Captain Christopher Newport, with about one hundred men, were sent out. They had been instructed to land on Roanoke Island, but were driven by a storm into Chesapeake Bay. The beauty of the situation attracted them, and they deter- mined to settle there. Sailing up James Eiver to a convenient spot they landed on May 13, the place chosen for their settlement being named by them Jamestown. The instructions for the colony had been placed by the king in a sealed box, on opening which it was found that seven men were appointed a governing council, among them Gosnold, Newport, and the celebrated Captain John Smith, who was a member of the ex- pedition. Most of the colony were gentlemen, who hoped to find gold at once and make their fortune, and no attempt at agriculture was made. A terrible summer followed. The position chosen for security against the Indians proved unhealthy, and more than half the colony was swept away by a pestilence. Only the friendly aid of the Indians saved the rest from death by starvation. Meanwhile, Captain Smith was prevented from taking his place in the council by the action of his enemies, and was arrested on false accusations. For several months he lay under a cloud. But, boldly defying the malice of his enemies, he cleared himself of their charges and resumed his place in the council. By the autumn the sole control of the colony fell into the hands of Smith, the president finding the duty beyond his ability. The behavior of Smith in this capacity is well told in Campbell's " History of the Colony and Ancient Dominion in Vir- ginia," from which we extract some passages, with the caution to the reader that the story of Smith's adventures among the Indians is told by himself, and that his character for veracity is not a high one.] At the approach of winter the rivers of Virginia abounded with wild-fowl, and the English now were well supplied with bread, peas, persimmons, fish, and game. But this plenty did not last long, for what Smith care- fully provided the colonists carelessly wasted. The idlers 118 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell at Jamestown, including some of the council, now began to mutter complaints against Smith for not having dis- covered the source of the Chickahominy, it being supposed that the South Sea, or Pacific Ocean, lay not far distant, and that a communication with it would be found by some river running from the northwest. The Chickahominy flowed in that direction, and hence the solicitude of these Jamestown cosmographers to trace that river to its head. To allay this dissatisfaction of the council, Smith made another voyage up that river, and proceeded until it be- came necessary, in order to pass, to cut away a large tree which had fallen across the stream. When at last the barge could advance no farther, he returned eight miles and moored her in a wide bay out of danger, and leaving orders to his men not to venture on shore until his return, accomj)anied by two of his men and two In- dian guides, and leaving seven men in the barge, he went still higher up in a canoe to the distance of twenty miles. In a short time after he had parted from the barge the men left in her went ashore, and one of them, George Cassen, was surprised and killed. Smith, in the mean while, not suspecting this disaster, reached the marshy ground toward the head of the river, " the slashes," and went out with his gun to provide food for the party, and took with him one of the Indians. During his excursion his two men, Eobinson and Emry, were slain, and he him- self was attacked by a numerous party of Indians, two of whom he killed with a pistol. He protected himself from their arrows by making a shield of his guide, bind- ing him fast by the arm with one of his garters. Many arrows pierced his clothes, and some slightly wounded him. Endeavoring to reach the canoe, and walking back- ward with his eye still fixed on his pursuers, he sunk to his waist in an oozy creek, and his savage with him. Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 119 Nevertheless the Indians were afraid to approach until, being now half dead with cold, he threw away his arms, when they drew him forth, and led him to the fire where his two companions were Ij'ing dead. Here the Indians chafed his benumbed limbs, and, having restored the vital heat, Smith inquired for their chief, and they pointed him to Opechancanough, the great chief of Pa- munkey. Smith presented him a mariner's compass : the vibrations of the mysterious needle astonished the un- tutored sons of the forest. In a short time they bound the prisoner to a tree, and were about to shoot him to death, when Opechancanough holding up the compass, they all laid down their bows and arrows. Then march- ing in Indian file they led the captive, guarded by fifteen men, about six miles, to Orapakes, a hunting town in the upper part of the Chickahominy swamp, and about twelve miles northeast from the falls of James Eiver [Eichmond]. At this town, consisting of thirty or forty houses, built like arbors and covered with mats, the women and chil- dren came forth to meet them, staring in amazement at Smith. Opechancanough and his followers performed their military exercises, and joined in the war-dance. Smith was confined in a long house under a guard, and an enor- mous quantity of bread and venison was set before him, as if to fatten him for sacrifice, or because they supposed that a superior being required a proportionately larger supply of food. An Indian who had received some toys from Smith at Jamestown now, in return, brought him a warm garment of fur, — a j^leasing instance of gratitude, a sentiment often found even in the breast of a savage. Another Indian, whose son had been mortally wounded by Smith, made an attempt to kill him in revenge, and was only prevented by the interposition of his guards. [Smith then sent a written message to Jamestown, and received a 120 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell reply, the Indians being astonished on perceiving that " paper could talk." The captive was next taken to Pamaunkee, the residence of the chief.] Here, for three days, they engaged in their horrid orgies and incantations, with a view to divine their jDrisoner'a secret designs, whether friendly or hostile. They also showed him a bag of gunpowder, which they were re- serving till the next spring, when they intended to sow it in the ground, as they were desirous of propagating so useful an article. Smith was hospitably entertained by Opitchapan (Ope- chancanough's brother), who dwelt a little above, on the Pamunkey. Finally, the captive was taken to Werowo- comoco, probably signifying chief place of council, a favorite seat of Powhatan, on the York Eiver, then called the Pa- maunkee or Pamunkey. They found this chief in his rude palace, reclining before the fire, on a sort of throne, re- sembling a bedstead, covered with mats, his head adorned with feathers and his neck with beads, and wearing a long robe of raccoon-skins. At his head sat a young female, and another at his feet ; while on each side of the wigwam sat the men in rows, on mats, and behind them as many young women, their heads and shoulders painted red, some with their heads decorated with the snowy down of birds, and all with strings of white beads falling over their shoul- ders. On Smith's entrance they all raised a terrific yell. The queen of Appomattock brought him water to wash, and another, a bunch of feathers for a towel. After feast- ing him, a long consultation a^vs held. That ended, two large stones were brought, and the one laid upon the other, before Powhatan ; then as many as could lay hold, seizing Smith, dragged him to the stones, and, laying his head on them, snatched up their war-clubs, and, brandishing them in the air, were about to slay him, when Pocahontas, Pow- Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 121 hatan's favorite daughter, a girl of only twelve or thirteen years of age, finding all her entreaties unavailing, flew, and, at the hazard of her life, clasped the captive's head in her arms, and laid her own upon his. The stern heart of Powhatan was touched : he relented, and consented that Smith might live. [The story here given is one in which the reader may be advised not to put too great credit, as it is doubted by historical critics, and has, in all probability, been greatly embellished by its chief actor. Two days afterwards Smith was permitted by Powhatan to return tc? Jamestown, on condition of sending him two great guns and a grind- stone.] Smith now treated his Indian guides kindly, and, show- ing Eawhunt, a favorite servant of Powhatan, two j^ieces of cannon and a grindstone, gave him leave to carry them home to his master. A cannon was then loaded with stones, and discharged among the boughs of a tree hung with icicles, when the Indians fled in terror, but upon being persuaded to return they received presents for Pow- hatan, his wives and childi-en, and departed. At the time of Smith's return to Jamestown, he found the number of the colonists reduced to forty. Of the one hundred original settlers, seventy-eight are classified a;^ follows : fifty-four gentlemen, four carpenters, twelve labor- ers, a blacksmith, a sailor, a barber, a bricklayer, a mason, a tailor, a drummer, and a " chirurgeon." Of the gentle- men, the greater part were indolent, dissolute reprobates, of good families ; and they found themselves not in a golden El Dorado, as they had fondly anticipated, but in a remote wilderness, encompassed by want, exposure, fa- tigue, disease, and danger. The return of Smith, and his report of the plenty that he had witnessed at Werowocomoco, and of the generous clemenc}^ of Powhatan, and especially of the love of Poca- I.— F 11 122 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell hontas, revived the drooping hopes of the survivors at Jamestown. The arrival of Newport at the same juncture with stores and a number of additional settlers, being part of the first supply sent out from England by the treasurer and council, was joyfully welcomed. Pocahontas too, with her tawny train of attendants, frequently visited James- town, with presents of bread, and venison, and raccoons, sent by Powhatan for Smith and Newport. However, the improvident traffic allowed between Newport's mariners and the natives soon extremely enhanced the price of pro- visions, and the too protracted detention of his vessel made great inroads upon the public store. [The events described were followed by a visit to Powhatan, and the accidental burning of Jamestown, which took place on their re- turn. Other troubles succeeded.] The stock of provisions running low, the colonists at Jamestown were reduced to a diet of meal and water, and this, together with their exposure to cold after the loss of their habitations, cut off upwards of one-half of them. Their condition was made still worse by a rage for gold that now seized them. " There was no talk, no hope, no work, but dig gold, wash gold, refine gold, load gold." Smith, not indulging in these empty dreams of imaginary wealth, laughed at their infatuation in loading " such a drunken ship with gilded dust." Captain Newport, after a delay of three months and a half, being now ready to sail for England, the planters, having no use for parliaments, places, petitions, admirals, recorders, interpreters, chronologers, courts of plea, nor justices of the peace, sent Master Wingfield and Captain Archer home with him, so that they, who had engrossed all those titles to themselves, might seek some better place of employment. Newport carried with him twenty turkeys. Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 123 which had been presented to him by Powhatan, who had demanded and received twenty swords in return for them. This fowl, pecuHar to America, had been many years before carried to England by some of the early discoverers of North America. After Newport's departure, Ratcliffe, the president, lived in ease, peculating on the public store. The spring now approaching, Smith and Scrivener undertook to rebuild Jamestown, repair the palisades, fell trees, prepare the fields, plant, and erect another church. While thus en- gaged they were joyfully surprised by the arrival of the Phoenix, commanded by Captain Nelson, who had left Eng- land with Newport about the end of the year 1607, and, after coming within sight of Cape Henry, had been driven off to the West Indies. He brought with him the re- mainder of the first supply, which comprised one hundred and twenty settlers. Having found provisions in the West Indies, and having economically husbanded his own, he im- parted them generously to the colony, so that now there was accumulated a store sufficient for half a year. Powhatan, having effected so advantageous an exchange with Newport, afterwards sent Smith twenty turkeys, but, receiving no swords in return, he was highly offended, and ordered his people to take them by fraud or force, and they accordingly attempted to seize them at the gates of James- town. The president and Martin, who now ruled, remained inactive, under pretence of orders from England not to offend the natives ; but some of them happening to meddle with Smith, he handled them so roughly, by whipping and imprisonment, as to repress their insolence. Pocahontas, in beauty of feature, expression, and form, far surpassed any of the natives, and in intelligence and spirit " was the nonpareil of her country." Powhatan, hear- ing that some of his people were kept prisoners at James- 124 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell town, sent her, with Rawhunt (who was as remarkable for his personal deformity, but shrewd and crafty), with pres- ents of a deer and some bread, to sue for their ransom. Smith released the prisoners, and Pocahontas was dismissed with presents. Thus the scheme of Powhatan to destroy the English with their own swords was happily frustrated. The Phcenix was freighted w^ith a cargo of cedar, and the unserviceable, gold-hunting Captain Martin concluded to return with her to England. Of the one hundred and twenty settlers brought by Newport and Nelson, there were thirty-three gentlemen, twenty-one laborers (some of them only footmen), six tailors, two apothecaries, two jew- ellers, two gold-refiners, two goldsmiths, a gunsmith, a per- fumer, a surgeon, a cooper, a tobacco-pipe maker, and a blacksmith. [On the 2d of June, 1608, Smith left Jamestown with the purpose of exploring Chesapeake Bay. During this journey he discovered the Potomac and sailed up it to the head of navigation. He contin- ued his explorations, and during the summer, " with a few men, in a small barge, in his several voyages of discovery he traversed a distance of not less than three thousand miles." In September, 1608, he ac- cepted the office of president, which he had formerly declined.] Smith, the president, now set the colonists to work ; some to make glass, others to prepare tar, pitch, and soap-ashes; while he, in person, conducted thirty of them five miles below the fort to cut down trees and saw plank. Two of this lumber party happened to be young gentlemen who had arrived in the last supply. Smith sharing labor and hardship in common with the rest, these woodmen, at first, became apparently reconciled to the novel task, and seemed to listen with pleasure to the crashing thunder of the fall- ing trees ; but when the axes began to blister their unac- customed hands, they grew profane, and their frequent loud oaths echoed in the woods. Smith, taking measures to have Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 125 the oaths of each one numbered, in the evening, for each offence, poured a can of water down the offender's sleeve; and this curious discipHne, or water-cure, was so effectual that after it was administered an oath would scarcely be heard in a week. Smith found that thirty or forty gentle- men who volunteered to woi'k could do more in a day than one hundred that worked by compulsion ; but he adds that twenty good workmen would have been better than the whole of them put together. [Further troubles with the Indians succeeded, and only the energy of the governor defeated the murderous schemes of Opechancanough.] Eeturning [from his visit to this chief], he descended the York as far as Werowocomoco, intending to surprise Pow- hatan there, and thus secure a further supply of corn ; but Powhatan had abandoned his new house, and had carried away all his corn and provisions; and Smith, with his party, returned to Jamestown. In this expedition, with twenty-five pounds of copper and fifty pounds of iron, and some beads, he procured, in exchange, two hundred pounds of deer suet, and delivered to the Cape merchant four hundred and seventy-nine bushels of corn. At Jamestown the provision of the j^ublic store had been spoiled by exposure to the rain of the previous summer, or eaten by rats and worms. The colonists had been living there in indolence, and a large part of their implements and arms had been trafficked away to the Indians. Smith undertook to remedy these disorders by discipline and labor, reheved by pastimes and recreations ; and he established it as a rule that he who would not work should not eat. The whole government of the colony was now, in effect, de- volved upon him. Captain Wynne being the only other surviving councillor, and the president having two votes. Shortly after Smith's return, he met the chief of Paspahegh I. 11* 126 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell near Jamestown, and had a rencontre with him. This athletic savage attempting to shoot him, he closed and grappled, when, by main strength, the chief forced him into the river to drowni him. They struggled long in the water, until Smith, grasping the savage by the throat, wxllnigh strangled him, and, drawling his sword, was about to cut off his head, when he begged for his life so piteously that Smith spared him, and led him prisoner to Jamestown, where he put him in chains. He was daily visited by his wives, and children, and people, who brought presents to ransom him. At last he made his escape. Captain Wynne and Lieutenant Percy were desj)atched, with a party of fifty, to recapture him, failing in which they burned the chief's cabin and carried away his canoes. Smith now going out to "try his conclusions" with "the salvages," slew some, and made some prisoners, burned their cabins, and took their canoes and fishing-weirs. Shortly after- wards the president, passing through Paspahegh, on his way to the Chickahominy, was assaulted by the Indians ; but, upon his firing, and their discovering wdio he was, they threw down their arms and sued for peace. Oka- ning, a young warrior, who spoke in their behalf, in jus- tifjang the escape of their chief from imprisonment at Jamestown, said, " The fishes swim, the fowls fly, and the very beasts strive to escape the snare, and live." Smith's vigorous measures, together with some accidental circum- stances, so dismayed the savages that from this time to the end of his administration they gave no further trouble. [In 1609 an addition to the colony of five hundred men and women was sent out, with stores and provisions, in a fleet of nine vessels.] Upon the appearance of this fleet near Jamestown, Smith, not expecting such a supply, took them to be Span- Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 127 iards, and prepared to encounter them, and the Indians readily offered their assistance. The colony had already, before the arrival of the fleet, been threatened with an- archy, owing to intelligence of the premature repeal of the charter, brought out by Captain Argall, and the new settlers had now no sooner landed than they gave rise to new confusion and disorder. The factious leaders, although they brought no commission with them, insisted on the abrogation of the existing charter, rejected the authority of Smith, whom they hated and feared, and undertook to usurp the government. Their capricious folly equalled their insolence : to-day the old commission must rule, to- morrow the new, the next day neither, — thus, by continual change, plunging all things into anarchy. Smith, filled with disgust, would cheerfully have em- barked for England, but, seeing little prospect of the ar- rival of the new commission (which was in the possession of Gates on the island of Bermudas), he resolved to put an end to these incessant plots and machinations. The ringleaders, Eatcliffe, Archer, and others, he arrested; to cut off another source of disturbance, he gave permission to Perc}', who was in feeble health, to embark for Eng- land, of which, however, he did not avail himself. West, with one hundred and twenty picked men, was detached to the falls of James Kiver, and Martin, with nearly the same number, to Nansemond. Smith's presidency having expired about this time, he had been succeeded by Martin, who, conscious of his incompetency, had immediately resigned it to Smith. Martin, at Nansemond, seized the chief, and, capturing the town, occupied it with his de- tachment ; but owing to want of judgment, or of vigilance, he suffered himself to be surprised by the savages, who slew many of his party, rescued the chief, and carried off 128 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell their corn, Martin not long after returned to Jamestown, leaving his detachment to shift for themselves. Smith, going up the river to "West's settlement at the falls, found the English planted in a place not only subject to the river's inundation, but " surrounded by many intol- erable inconveniences." To remedy these, by a messenger he proposed to purchase from Powhatan his seat of that name, a little lower down the river. The settlers scorn- fully rejected the scheme, and became so mutinous that Smith landed among them and arrested the chief male- contents. But, overpowered by numbers, being supported by only five men, he was foi'ced to retire on board of a vessel lying in the river. The Indians daily supplied him with provisions, in requital for which the English plun- dered their corn, robbed their cultivated ground, beat them, broke into tHeir cabins, and made them prisoners. They complained to Captain Smith that the men whom he had sent there as their protectors " were w^orse than their old enemies, the Monacans." Smith, embarking, had no sooner set sail for Jamestown than many of West's party were slain by the savages. It so happened that before Smith's vessel had dropped a mile and a half down the river she ran aground, where- upon, making a virtue of necessity, he summoned the mutineers to a parley, and they, now seized with a panic on account of the assault of a mere handful of Indians, submitted themselves to his mercy. He again arrested the ringleaders, and established the rest of the party at Powhatan, in the Indian palisade fort, which was so well fortified by poles and bark as to defy all the savages in Virginia. Dry cabins were also found there, and nearly two hundred acres of ground ready to be planted, and it was called Nonsuch, as bein^ at once the strongest and Campbell] THE JAMESTOWN COLONY. 129 most delightful place in the country. Nonsuch was the name of a royal residence in England. When Smith was now on the eve of his departure, the arrival of West again threw all things back into confusion. Nonsuch was abandoned, and all hands returned to the falls, and Smith, finding all his efforts abortive, embarked in a boat for Jamestown. During the voyage he was ter- ribly wounded, while asleep, by the accidental explosion of a bag of gunpowder, and in the paroxysm of pain he leaped into the river, and was wellnigh drowned before his companions could rescue him. Arriving at James- town in this helpless condition, he was again assailed by faction and mutiny, and one of his enemies even presented a cocked pistol at him in his bed ; but the hand wanted the nerve to execute what the heart was base enough to design. Eatcliffe, Archer, and their confederates laid plans to usurp the government of the colony, whereupon Smith's faithful soldiers, fired with indignation at conduct so in- famous, begged for permission to strike off their heads ; but this he refused. He refused also to surrender the presidency to Percy. For this Smith is censured by the historian Stith, who yet acknowledges that Percy was in too feeble health to control a mutinous colony. Anarchy being triumphant, Smith probably deemed it useless to ap- point a governor' over a mob. He at last, about Michael- mas, 1609, embarked for England, after a stay of a little more than two years in Virginia, to which he never returned. Here, then, closes the career of Captain John Smith in Virginia, " the father of the colony," and a hero like Bayard, " without fear and without reproach." 130 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. ROBERT R. HOWISON. [No sooner had Captain Smith departed from the Jamestown colony than all order and subordination ceased. His energy and good sense had alone held the reckless colonists in check, and they quickly con- sumed all their provisions, and provoked the hostility of the Indians, ■who refused to furnish them with supplies. Famine succeeded. Within six months, vice, anarchy, and starvation reduced the colony from four hundred and ninety to sixty persons, and these so feeble and miserable that had not relief come all must soon have perished. This period was long remembered under the name of the starving time. Soon after. Sir Thomas Gates arrived, but without supplies, and as the only escape from starvation he took the surviving colonists on his ships and set sail for Newfoundland. Fortunately, when they reached the mouth of the river they met Lord Delaware, who had been sent out as governor of the colony, with supplies and emigrants. The colonists were induced to return, and order and contentment were soon regained under the wise management of the new governor. Shortly afterwards seven hundred more men arrived, and the land, which had been held in common, was divided among the colonists, much to the advancement of agriculture. In 1613 occurred the mar- riage of John Rolfe, a young Englishman, with Pocahontas, the daughter of Powhatan, an event which improved the relations between the colonists and the Indians. Pocahontas was taken to England in 1616, and died in 1617, leaving one son, from whom are descended some of the most respectable families in Virginia. In 1613, Captain Argall sailed from Virginia for the purpose of protecting the English fisher- men on the coast of Maine. He broke up a settlement which the French had made on Mt. Desert Island, near the Penobscot, reduced the French settlement at Port Eoyal, in Acadia, and entered the harbor of New York, where he compelled the Dutch traders to acknowledge the sovereignty of England. The effect of the last two operations, however, continued only till the disappearance of his ship. In 1615 the colonists went eagerly into tobacco-culture, which soon became a mania ; the culture of corn and other grain being so neglected as to threaten renewed scarcity. In 1617 it is said that the yards^ Howison] the INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 131 the market square, and the very streets of Jamestown were full of the plants of this new article of commerce, to which the soil and climate of Virginia proved well adapted. In 1617, Captain Argall was made governor, and at once established a system of strict mili- tary rule which, in time, became almost a reign of terror. He was removed in 1619, and Sir George Yeardly sent out, under whose ad- ministration the colony flourished. In 1619 a representative body was organized, and met in Jamestown, where it adopted a colonial con- stitution. This was the first legislative action in America, and the first step towards American liberty. In the succeeding year (1620) a Dutch man-of-war sailed up the James and landed twenty negroes, who were quickly sold to the colonists. A happier introduction than this of African slavery was effected the same year, in the sending over of ninety young women, who were also sold to the colonists — as wives ; the price paid for each being one hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco. Sixty others were soon after sent, and the price rose to one hundred and fifty pounds of tobacco. But the Virginian colonists were now to pass through a danger as threatening as that of the "starving time." The death of Powhatan had removed their best friend among the Indians. The rapid increase of the colonists, and the spread of their settlements, alarmed the sav- ages, who, in 1622, formed a conspiracj' to destroy the whole colony. The story of this thrilling event we extract from Howison's " History of Virginia."] Since the marriage of Pocahontas with John Eolfe, the Indians had preserved the most peaceful relations with the settlers, and hopes were entertained that permanent friend- ship would be established between them. The dominion of Powhatan had descended to his brother Opitchapan, a feeble and decrepit chieftain, who was neither dreaded by the whites nor respected by his own subjects. But there was one mind among the natives which now exercised all the sway of superior genius and courage. Opecancanough has heretofore been mentioned. It is doubtful whether he was in any manner related to Powhatan, though he is often spoken of as his brother. Among the Indians and some of the whites prevailed a belief that he came from a 132 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison tribe far in the southwest, perhaps from the interior of Mexico. But in talents and influence he was now the ruling power among the savages. Profound in dissimula- tion, cruel by nature and habit, patient of suffering, skilled in every species of treachery, and possessed of a ready eloquence, always at his command, he soon gained over the minds of his inferiors an ascendency as resistless as it was dangerous. . . . The English had become careless and unsuspecting. Believing the natives to be their friends, they admitted them freely to their houses, sometimes supplied them with arms, employed them in hunting and fishing for their families, and in all respects treated them as faithful allies. As habits of industry and steady labor gained ground, the colonists relaxed their martial discipline. The plough was a more useful implement than the musket, and the sword had given place to the hoe and the pickaxe. Seduced by the present tranquillity, and by the fertile soil found in belts of land upon all the rivers running into the bay, they had extended their settlements until they were now nearly eighty in number and spread in scattered plantations over a space of several hundred miles. They were lulled into complete security by the demeanor of the natives, and those who were most zealous for religion were beginning to hope that the seeds of the truth were taking root in many untutored minds, and would, after a season, produce fruits of joy and peace. Some were not thus sanguine ; and among those who looked with most suspicion upon the Indians we mark the name of Jonas Stockam, a minister, who has left on record an open acknowledgment of his dis- trust. His strong common sense, his knowledge of human nature, and his obseiwations upon the natives around him, all confirmed his belief that they were yet highly dangerous, and that until their priests and " ancients" were destroyed Howison] the INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 133 no hope of their conversion need be entertained. But hib warnings, and slight proofs of enmity in the savages, were alike disregarded. The colonists remained immersed in unruffled security. In the mean time Opecancanough was preparing the actors in his infernal drama. Either in person or by his emissaries, he visited all the tribes composing the con- federacy over which Powhatan had held dominion. He roused them to revenge; represented their wrongs; wrought their passions to intensity by mingled promises of blood and of rapine; pointed to the defenceless state of the colonists, and established a complete organization for the work of death. ... The savages of Virginia were now embodied for their fatal purpose, and awaited but the signal from their leader to fall uj)on the unsuspecting col- onists. . . . On Friday, the 22d day of March (1622), the tragedy began. So perfect was the confidence of the settlers that they loaned the savages their boats to cross the rivers for their deadly purpose ; many of them even came in to take the morning meal with the whites, and brought deer, turkeys, fish, and fruits, which they offered for sale in the usual manner. But at mid-day the scene of blood was opened. Instantly, and as if by magic, the savages appeared at every point, and fell upon their victims with the weapons which first presented themselves. Neither age nor sex was spared. The tender infant was snatched from the mother to be butchered before her eyes ; wives were left weltering in blood in the presence of their husbands ; men helpless from age, or wholly without defence, were stricken down ere they could see the foe who assailed them. In one morning three hundred and forty-nine settlers were slain upon the several plantations. The murderers were lashed into frenzied excitement by their own passions; and, not I. 12 134 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howison content with the work of death, they mutilated the corpses in a manner so revolting that the original recorders of this massacre shrink from the task of describing them. . . . It is remarkable that wherever resistance was made to these fiends it was entirely successful. Too cruel to be brave, they fled from the first vigorous onset ; and had the colonists received one hour's warning, no life would have been lost that was not dearly atoned for. An old soldier who had served under John Smith, although surrounded by Indians and severely wounded, clove the skull of one assail- ant with a single stroke of an axe, and the rest instantly took to flight. A Mr. Baldwin, whose wife was lying before his eyes, profusely bleeding from many wounds, by one well- directed discharge drove a crowd of murderers from his house. Several small parties of settlers obtained a few muskets from a ship that happened to be lying in the stream near their plantations, and with these they routed the savages in every direction and dispersed them in great alarm. [Jamestown was saved through information given by a young In- dian convert. Preparations for defence were hastily made, and the savages did not venture an assault.] The immediate eff'ects of this blow upon the colony were most disastrous. Horror and consternation per- vaded every mind ; nearly one-fourth of their whole num- ber had, in a single hour, been stricken down. The rest were hastily drawn together around Jamestown. Distant plantations were abandoned, and in a short time eighty settlements were reduced to six. Some few bold spirits (and among them a woman) refused to obey the order, and remained in their country-seats, among their ser- vants, mounting cannon at weak points, and preparing to meet the treacherous foe with becomino- courage. But y HowisoN] THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 135 they were compelled by law to abandou their strongholds and to unite their resources in the common fund. A terrible reaction in the feelings of the colonists im- mediately took place. ... A war ensued, in which the fiercest impulses that man can feel were called into being. No truce was ever declared. The Indians were shot down at any time and in any place in which they showed themselves. When seed-time approached, hostilities de- clined from absolute necessit3^ The English resorted to a stratagem which cannot be justified. Offering peace to the savages, they seduced them from their places of con- cealment ; but in the midst of their labor they rushed upon them, cut down their corn, and put to death a large number, among whom were several of their greatest war- riors and most skilful chieftains. So embittered and so deep was the feeling of hatred thus engendered between the races that for many years it was transmitted from father to son. The colonists looked upon the Indians as their hereditary foes, and the unhappy natives never spoke of the " long knives" without fear and execration. [During the immediately succeeding period no events of any marked importance occurred in Virginia. In 1624 the London Company was dissolved, and Virginia became a royal government. But the rights of trial by jury and of a representative Assembly, which had been granted by the Company, were retained, and all succeeding colonies claimed the same, so that from the formation of the colonial Assembly of Vir- ginia we may date the beginning of the evolutiwn of American liberty. In 1643 another Indian massacre took place, instigated by the same implacable chief.] The Indians were now inveterate enemies. Peace was never thought of Successive enactments of the Assem- bly made it a solemn duty to fall upon the natives at stated periods of the year, and heavy penalties were vis- ited upon all who traded with them or in any way pro- •136 AMERICAN HISTORY. [HowisoN vided them with arms and ammunition. The whites were steadily increasing both in moral and physical strength ; the Indians were as rapidly wasting away be- fore the breath of civilization. A few incursions, — a few convulsive efforts, always attended by heavy loss to them- selves, — one final struggle, — these will complete their his- tory in eastern Yirginia. The illegal grants favored by Sir John Hervey had pro- voked the natives into active hostility. They saw their hunting-grounds successively swept away by a power which they were unable to resist, and all the passions of the savage arose to demand revenge. . . . Among the na- tives there still lived a hero who had proved himself a for- midable adversary even when encountered by European skill. Opecancanough had attained the hundredth year of his life. Declining age had bowed a foi-m once emi- nent in stature and manly strength. Incessant toil and watchfulness had wasted his flesh and left him gaunt and withered, like the forest-tree stripped of its foliage by the frosts of winter. His eyes had lost their brightness, and so heavily did the hand of age press upon him that his eyelids drooped from weakness, and he required the aid of an attendant to raise them that he might see objects around him. Yet within this tottering and wasted body burned a soul which seemed to have lost none of its origi- nal energy. A quenchless fire incited him to hostility against the settlers. He yet wielded great influence among the members of the Powhatan confederacy ; and by his wisdom, his example, and the veneration felt for his age, he roused the savages to another eff'ort at general massacre. The obscurity concerning the best records which remain of this period has rendered doubtful the precise time at which this fatal irruption occurred ; yet the most proba- HowisoN] THE INDIAN MASSACRE IN VIRGINIA. 137 ble period would seem to be the close of the year 1643. The Indians were drawn together "wuth great secrecy and skill, and were instructed to fall upon the colonists at the same time, and to spare none who could be safely butch- ered. Five hundred victims sank beneath their attack. The assault was most violent and fatal upon the upper waters of the Pamunkey and the York, where the settlers were yet thin in number and but imperfectly armed. But in every place where resistance was possible the savages were routed with loss, and driven back in dismay to their fastnesses in the forest. Sir William Berkeley instantly placed himself at the head of a chosen body, composed of every twentieth man able to bear arms, and marched to the scene of devastation. Finding the savages dispersed, and all organized resistance at an end, he followed them with a troop of cavalry. The aged chief had taken refuge in the neighborhood of his seat at Pamunkey. His strength was too much enfeebled for vigorous flight. His limbs refused to bear him, and his dull vision I'endered him an eas}^ pi"ey. He was overtaken by the pursuers, and carried in triumph back to James- town. Finding the very soul of Indian enmity now within his power, the governor had determined to send him to Eng- land as a royal captive, to be detained in honorable cus- tody until death should close his earthly career. . . . But a death of violence awaited him. A brutal wretch, urged on b}^ desire to revenge injuries to the whites which had long been forgotten or forgiven, advanced with his musket behind the unhappy chieftain and shot him through the back. . . . The wound thus given was mortal. Opecancanough lingered a few days in agony ; yet to the last moment of his life he retained his majesty and sternness of demeanor. I. 12* i 138 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Scharf A crowd of idle beings collected around him to sate their unfeeling curiosity with a view of his person and his con- duct. Hearing the noise, the dying Indian feebly motioned to his attendants to raise his eyelids, that he might learn the cause of this tumult. A flash of wounded pride and of just indignation, for a moment, revived his waning strength. He sent for the governor, and addressed to him that keen reproach which has so well merited preserva- tion : " Had I taken Sir William Berkeley prisoner, I would not have exposed him as a show to my people." In a short time afterwards he expired. . . . After the death of this warrior, the celebrated confed- eracy of Powhatan was immediately dissolved. ... It was without a head, and the members fell away and speedily lost all tendency to cohesion. The Indians had learned, by fatal experience, that they contended in vain with the whites. . . . They have faded away and gradu- ally disappeared, never more to return. THE SETTLEMENT OF MARYLAND. J. THOMAS SCHARF [The country near the head of Chesapeake Bay was first explored by Captain John Smith. It afterwards formed part of the grant that was made by Charles I to Sir George Calvert, by title Lord Baltimore, a Roman Catholic nobleman. Inspired by the same feeling that had moved the Puritans, he sought to establish a refuge in America for men of his religious faith, who were persecuted in England. With this purpose he planted, in 1621, a Catholic colony in Newfoundland. But the unfavorable soil and climate, and annoyances from the hostile French, soon ended his hopes in that quarter. He next visited Vir- ginia, but found there a religious intolerance hostile to his purposes. Scharf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 139 The territory finally granted him extended from the upper Chesapeake to the fortieth degree, the latitude of Philadelphia. The charter given to Lord Baltimore, unlike any previously granted, secured to the emigrants equality in religious rights and civil freedom, and an independent share in the legislation of the province. The colony was formed in 1634 by two hundred emigrants, mostly Koman Catholics, who entered the Potomac and purchased of the Indians a village on the St. Mary's Kiver, about ten miles from its junction with the Potomac. The policy of paying the Indians for their land, and their subsequent equitable treatment, inaugurated peaceful relations, though these did not remain long undisturbed. The treaty of Calvert with the Indians, though less dramatic, resembled in principle the celebrated one made many years afterwards by William Penn. Its character is clearly stated by J. T. Scharf in his excellent " History of Maryland."] Instead of treating the aborigines as wild beasts, or savages toward whom no moral law was binding, he dealt with them as with men whose rights had a claim to respect. He raised no sophistical question whether savages could acquire or transfer any rights in the soil, or whether it was worth while to pay them any price for what they were preparing to abandon. The quantity of goods given them is not known ; but the compensation was satisfactory, and there is no reason for alleging that it was not ample. The land ceded was mostly forest hunting-grounds ; and the former possessors left them only to remove to others chosen in the boundless wilderness. The articles given in exchange were not trinkets and cheap gewgaws to pamper savage vanity, nor the maddening draught that has been the bane of the race, nor the arms that would render their internal wars more deadly and hasten their extermination ; they were not merely of intrinsic worth, but of absolutely inestimable value to the Indian, who could procure nothing comparable to them, and was at once raised a degree in civilization by their acquisition. The possession of an 140 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Scharf axe of steel instead of his rude tool of stone multiplied his strength and efficiency a hundredfold. If the whites occupied his fields, they gave him, in improved imple- ments, the means of raising larger crops, with less labor, in his new abode; if they restricted his hunting-grounds, they taught him to dispense with his rude garment of skin, and clothed him in the warmer fabric of the loom. The Indians, on their side, faithfully performed their part of the contract. They shared at once their cabins with the strangers and prepared to abandon them and the cultivated fields as soon as the corn was harvested. In the mean time they mingled freely with the colonists, who employed many of their women and children in their fami- lies. From them the wives and daughters of the settlers learned the modes of preparing maize and other products of the soil. While the colonist of New England ploughed his field with his musket on his back, or was aroused from his slumber by the hideous war-whoop to find hi& dwelling in flames, the settlers of St. Mary's accompanied the red warrior to the chase and learned his arts of woodcraft ; and the Indian coming to the settlement with wild tur- keys or venison found a friendly reception and an honest market, and, if belated, wrapped himself in his mantle of skins or duffield cloth and lay down to sleep by the white man's fireside, unsuspecting and unsuspected. Such were the happy results of the truly Christian spirit that animated the first Maryland colonists. [Trouble with the Indians began as early as 1641, in the incursions of the Susquehannoughs, a fierce tribe, which had always been hostile to the colonists. These savages had now acquired the possession and learned the use of fire-arms. The sale of arms and ammunition to them had been made penal in the colony, but the Swedes and Dutch on the Delaware freely supplied them with these dangerous articles. There resulted a war with the Indians, which extended from 1642 to Scharf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 141 1644. In the mean time Calvert was given great trouble by "William Claiborne, a Virginian who had in 1631 established a trading-station on the island of Kent and one near the mouth of the Susquehanna, and who for years continued to contest the rights of the lord pro- prietary. He even organized a rebellion, and for a time drove the governor from the province. Maryland has the honor of being the first country to establish the principle of religious toleration to people of all faiths. George Cal- vert "was the first," says Bancroft, "in the history of the Christian world, to seek for religious security and peace by the practice of jus- tice and not by the exercise of power ; to plan the establishment of popular institutions with the enjoyment of liberty of conscience ; to advance the career of civilization by recognizing the rightful equality of all Christian sects." The religious toleration which already ex- isted by charter was further established by a law of the Maryland Assembly, of April 2, 1649. Ehode Island had previously passed a similar law. We quote the significant section of this important en- actment.] " And whereas the inforcing of the conscience in mat- ters of religion hiith frequently fallen out to bee of danger- ous consequence in those commonwealths where it hath beene practiced, and for the more quiet and peaceable gov- ernment of this province, and the better to preserve mutuall love and unity among the inhabitants here, Bee it, there- fore, also by the lord proprietary, with the advice and assent of this assembl}', ordained and enacted, . . . that no person or persons whatsoever within this province or the islands, ports, harbours, creeks, or havens thereunto belonging, professing to believe in Jesus Christ, shall from henceforth be any waies troubled, molested, or discounte- nanced, for or in respect of his or her religion, nor in the free exercise thereof within this province or the islands thereunto belonging, nor any way compelled to the be- liefe or exercise of any other religion against his or her consent, so as they be not uufaithfull to the lord proprie- tary, or molest or conspire against the civill government, 142 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Schaef estabblished or to be estabblished in this province under him or his heyres ; and that all and every person or persons that shall presume contrary to this act and the true intent and meaning thereof, directly or indirectl}'-, eyther in per- son or estate, wilfully to wrong, disturbe, or trouble, or molest any person or persons whatsoever within this province, professing to believe in Jesus Christ, for or in respect of his or her religion, or the free exercise thereof within this province, . . . shall be compelled to pay treble damages to the party so wronged or molested, and for every such offence shall also forfeit 20s. sterling in money or the value thereof, ... or if the party so offending as aforesaid, shall refuse or bee unable to recompence the party so wronged or to satisfie such fine or forfeiture, then such offender shall be severely piinished by publick whipping and imprisonment during the pleasure of the lord proprietary or his lieutenant or chiefe governour of this province for the time being, without baile or main- prise." [The act here given also punishes with fine whoever shall denomi- nate any person as " an Heretick, Schismatick, Idolater, Puritan Presbyterian, Independent, Popish Priest, Jesuit, Jesuited Papist, Lutheran, Calvinist, Anabaptist, Brownist, Antinomian, Barrowist, Roundhead, Separatist, or other name or terme in a reproachful man- ner, relating to matters of religion," or shall blaspheme or deny any of the persons of the Holy Trinity, or speak reproachfully of the Virgin Mary, or shall break the Sabbath by drunkenness, swearing, disorderly recreation, or work except when absolutely necessary. The enactment here described was one worthy to be printed in let- ters of gold, as an example of remarkable breadth of view and spirit of tolerance for the age of religious bigotry in which it was passed. Its principle was not long permitted t© continue in force. During the Puritan ascendency in England the government was taken from the proprietor, and the Catholics of Maryland were disfranchised, excluded from the Assembly, and declared not entitled to the protection of the law. In January of the following year (1655), Stone, the lieutenant Schakf] the settlement OF MARYLAND. 14:-^ of Lord Baltimore, resumed his ofl5ce, and a civil war ensued, which is worth describing, as the first instance of civil war in America.] Lord Baltimore, learning the surrender of Governor Stone, and that the affairs of the province were adminis- tered by commissioners appointed by Claiborne, and his associates, in the latter part of 1654, despatched a special messenger . . . with a severe rebuke to the governor for 80 tamely yielding his authority, and an order to him to resume it immediately. The ship arrived in January, 1655, N. S., and Captain Stone jiroceeded to issue commissions to oflScers, and to organize an armed force in the county of St. Mary's. In a short time he found himself at the head of about one hundred and thirty men. [With this force he recovered the records of the province, and cap- tured a magazine of arms and ammunition from the Puritans.] About the twentieth of March, Stone set out with his little army for Providence. He had pressed into his ser- vice eleven or twelve small vessels for the transportation of part of his forces, and part marched by land along the bay shore. . . . Governor Stone, with his little fleet and army, entered the outer harbor of Providence (Annapolis harbor) late in the evening of March 24. . . . Stone had no sooner drawn up his force in array upon the shore, than the Golden Lyon and Captain Cut's vessel opened fire upon them, killing one man, and compelling him to retire a little up the neck of land. In the mean time, Captain Fuller, at the head of one hundred and sev- enty men, embarked in boats, and, having gone " over the river some six miles distant from the enemy," landed, and made a circuit around the head of the creek, proposing to take Stone's force in flank and rear. On their approach the sentry fired a gun, and an engagement followed, which 144 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Scharf is thus described by Leonard Strong, one of Fuller's council, in his pamphlet, " Babylon's Fall." " Captain Fuller, still expecting that then, at last, pos- sibly they might give a reason of their coming, commanded his men, on pain of death, not to shoot a gun, or give the first onset; setting up the standard of the commonwealth of England, against which the enemy shot five or six guns and killed one man in the front before a shot was made by the other. Then the word was given : In the name of God, fall on ; God is our strength — that was the word for Provi- dence : the Marylanders' word was Hey for Saint Maries. The charge was fierce and sharp for the time ; but, through the glorious presence of the Lord of hosts manifested in and towards his poor oppressed people, the enemy could not endure, but gave back, and were so effectually charged home that they were all routed, turned their backs, threw down their arms, and begged mercy. After the first vol- ley of shot, a small company of the enemy, from behind a great tree fallen, galled us, and wounded divers of our men, but were soon beaten off. Of the whole company of the Marylanders there escaped only four or five, who ran away out of the army to carry news to their confederates. Captain Stone, Colone'l Price, Captain Gerrard, Captain Lewis, Captain Kendall, Captain Guither, Major Chan-dler, and all the rest of the councillors, officers, and soldiers of the Lord Baltimore, among whom, both commanders and souldiers, a great number being Papists, were taken, and so were all their vessels, arms, ammunition, provision ; about fifty men slain and wounded. We lost only two in the field ; but two died since of their wounds. God did appear wonderful in the field and in the hearts of the people ; all confessing Him to be the only worker of this victory and deliverance." Strong's pamphlet is, no doubt, strongly colored by Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 145 partisanship, but, whatever the exact details, the Puritans were completely victorious. ..." Two or three daj's after the victors condemned ten to death, and executed foure, and had executed all, had not the incessant petitioning and begging of some good women saved some, and the souldiers others ; the governor himself being condemned by them, and since beg'd by the souldiers ; some being saved just as they were leading out to execution." [In 1658, on the restoration of monarchy in England, the proprie- tor regained his authority in Maryland. A new disturbance between Protestants and Catholics occurred iu 1689, at the period of the Eng- lish revolution, and Lord Baltimore was deprived of his rights by the king in 1691. Religious toleration was abolished, and the Church of England established as the state religion. After more than twenty years, the infant heir of Lord Baltimore, then a Protestant, was restored to his proprietorship, and Maryland remained a proprietary govern- ment until the Revolution.] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. JOHN GORHAM PALFREY. [The discovery and settlement of New England was a slow process. It possibly began with the voyages of the Northmen, though the locality of Vinland can never be definitely known. The English claim to the territory was based on the voyages of the Cabots, in which the coast was visited from the far north to the thirty-eighth (or perhaps to the thirty-sixth) degree of north latitude. The New Eng- land coast was afterwards visited by Cortereal, by Verrazano, and by several later voyagers. Yet during the sixteenth century no part of it was explored, and no effort made at colonization. Gosnold, in 1602, made an unsuccessful attempt to plant a colony on Martha's Vineyard. Martin Pring made a trading-voyage to the coast in 1603. In 1605 George Weymouth entered the Kennebec or the Penobscot River. About the same time the French essayed to plant a colony on Cape I.— G k l.S 146 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrei Cod, but were driven off by the Indians. In 1606 the Plymouth and London Companies, for the purpose of planting colonies in America, were formed in London, the patent of the first-named covering the coast of New England, to which a colony was sent in 1607. It landed at the mouth of the Kennebec River, but the colonists became dis- couraged, and returned on the ships, with the exception of forty-five, who spent a long and severe winter on the coast and returned to Eng- land in the following spring. A party of French established them- selves on Mount Desert Island in 1613, but were driven off after a few weeks' stay by Captain Argal, of Virginia. The next effort to colo- nize this region was made by Captain John Smith, who had already given permanence to the Virginia colony by his shrewdness and energy. He explored the coast in 1614, and made a map of it, giving its pres- ent name to the country. But his earnest efforts to found a colony failed, through discouraging circumstances, and despite his persistent endeavors. Other voyages were made, and a trading-party remained on the coast during the winter of 1616-17, but all such efforts to es- tablish trading-colonies ended in failure, and it was not until the ar- rival of the Puritan agriculturists in 1620 that a permanent colony was formed. No detailed explanation as to who the Puritans were is here de- manded. It will suffice to say that long before the establishment of the English Episcopal Church by Henry VIII. there had been in England a large body of religious reformers, and that after that period these continued to exist, under the titles of Non-Conformists, Separatists, Brownists, etc., despite the persecutions to which they were subjected. Among the congregations of Separatists are two with which we are particularly concerned. One was gathered at Gains- borough, in Lincolnshire, the other at the village of Scrooby, in Nottinghamshire. They were composed of simple agriculturists, yet they found the repression of religious liberty to which they were sub- jected so intolerable that they determined to emigrate to Holland, where they had heard that freedom of thought was permitted. After great difficulty, the Scrooby congregation succeeded in reaching Am- sterdam, where they found the Gainsborough people, and a London congregation that had emigrated some twelve or fifteen years before. In 1616 they removed to Leyden. But the political agitation which arose in Holland made that country a disagreeable place of residence, and they finally determined to emigrate to America, where they might be free to worship God in their own way without hinderance. Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 147 They well knew the perils and difficulties they would have to en- counter, and even magnified them, but were prepared to endure them all for the blessing of religious liberty. Some thought of joining the colony in Virginia; others, of going to Guiana, where Sir Walter Raleigh then was, on a second visit. Negotiations were entered into .with the Dutch, with a view to emigrate to the Hudson. But they finally concluded to establish a new colony on the northern American coast, where they would be free from any interference with their fixed purposes. In July, 1620, they embarked for England in the ship Speedwell. Here, in the port of Southampton, they found the May- flower, a vessel of one hundred and eighty tons' burden, which had been engaged for the voyage. Two starts were made, but in each case they were obliged to return, the Speedwell proving unseaworthy. Finally, on September 6, the Mayflower sailed alone, and " put to sea with a prosperous wind." Among the leading spirits of the expedi- tion may be named Bradford and Brewster, members of the original Scrooby congregation, Winslow, a personage of superior condition to his companions, who had joined them in Holland, and Miles Standish, who was not a member of the church, but who loved adventure, and whose military knowledge was of great value to the emigrants. The story of the voyage and landing we extract from Palfrey's admirable " History of New England."] The colonists, — men, women, and children, — who were now embarked on board the Mayflower, were a hundred and two in number. Concerning ve'y few of them is it known to this day from what English homes they came. . . . Little is recorded of the incidents of the voyage. The first part was favorably made. As the wanderers approached the American continent, they encountered storms which their overburdened vessel was scarcely able to sustain. Their destination was to a point near the Hud- son River, yet within the territory of the London Company, by which their patent had been granted. This description corresponds to no other country than the sea-coast of the State of New Jersey. At early dawn of the sixty-first day of their voyage (November 9, 1620) they came in sight of the white sand-banks of Cape Cod. In pursuance 148 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey of their original purpose, they veered to the south, but by the middle of the day they found themselves " among perilous shoals and breakers," which caused them to re- trace their course. An opinion afterwards prevailed, on questionable gi'ounds, that they had been purposely led astray by the master of the vessel, induced by a bribe from the Dutch, who were averse to having them near the mouth of the Hudson, which Dutch vessels had begun to visit for trade. The narrow peninsula, sixty miles long, which termi- nates in Cape Cod, projects eastwardly from the mainland of Massachusetts, in shape resembling the human arm bent rectangularly at the elbow and again at the wrist. In the basin enclosed landward by the extreme point of this projection, in the roadstead of what is now Province- town, the Mayflower dropped her anchor at noon on a Saturday near the close of autumn (November 11). [Here was drawn up and signed an instrument constituting a brief governmental compact, and John Carver, who had been instrumental in obtaining from the king permission for their enterprise, was chosen governor of the colony.] In the afternoon, " fifteen or sixteen men, well armed," were sent on shore to reconnoitre and collect fuel. They returned at evening, reporting that they had seen neither person nor dwelling, but that the country was well wooded, and that the appearance as to soil was promising. Having kept their Sabbath in due retirement, the men began the labors of the week by landing a shallop from the ship, and hauling it up the beach for repairs, while the women went on shore to wash clothes. While the carpenter and his men were at work on the boat, sixteen others, armed and provisioned, with Standish for their commander, set off on foot to explore the country. The only incident of this day was the sight of five or six sav- Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 149 ages, who, on their approach, ran away too swiftly to be overtaken. At night, lighting a fire and setting a guard, the party bivouacked at the distance, as they supposed, of ten miles from their vessel. Proceeding southward next morning, they observed marks of cultivation, some heaps of earth, which they took for signs of graves, and the re- mains of a hut, with "a great kettle, which had been some ship's kettle." In a heap which they opened, they found two baskets containing four or five bushels of In- dian corn, of which they took as much as they could carry away in their pockets and in the kettle. Farther on they saw two canoes and " an old fort or palisado, made by some Christians," as they thought. The second night, which was rainy, they encamped again, with more pre- cautions than before. On Friday evening, having lost their way meanwhile, and been amused by an accident to Bradford, who was caught in an Indian deer-trap, they returned to their friends " both weary and welcome, and delivered in their corn into the store to be kept for seed, for they knew not how to come by any, and therefore were very glad, proposing, as soon as they could meet with any of the inhabitants of that place, to make them large satisfaction." [The succeeding week was passed in necessary labors, and in explo- ration of the coast in the shallop. Landing, they found some more corn and a bag of beans, and several miles inland a grave containing "bowls, trays, dishes," "a knife, a pack-needle," "a little bow," and some " strings and bracelets of fine white beads." Two wigwams were seen. On December 6 another exploration was made. The cold was extreme. Coasting for six or seven leagues, they saw a party of In- dians, who ran away. They continued to explore during the next day, but found no inhabitants.] The following morning, at daylight, they had just ended their prayers, and were preparing breakfast at their camp I 13* 150 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey ou the beach, when they heard a yell, and a flight of arrows fell among them. The assailants turned out to he thirty or forty Indians, who, being fired upon, retired. Neither side had been harmed. A number of the arrows were picked up, " some whereof were headed with brass, others with hart's horn, and others with eagles' claws." Getting on board, they sailed all day along the shore in a storm of snow and sleet, making, b}^ their estimate, a distance of forty or fifty miles, without discovering a harbor. In the afternoon, the gale having increased, their rudder was disabled, and they had to steer with oars. At length the mast was carried away, and they drifted in the dark with a flood-tide. With diflSculty they brought up under the lee of a " small rise of land." Here a part of the company, suffering from wet and cold, went on shore, though not without fear of hostile neighbors, and lighted a fire by which to pass the inclement night. In the morning " they found themselves to be on an island secure from the Indians, where they might dry their stuff, fix their pieces, and rest themselves ; and, this being the last day of the week, they prepared there to keep the Sabbath." " On Monday they sounded the harboi*, and found it fit for shipping, and marched also into the land, and found divers cornfields and little running brooks, a place, as they supposed, fit for situation ; ... so they returned to their ship again with this news to the rest of their people, which did much to comfort their hearts." Such is the record of that event which has made the twenty-second of December a memorable day in the calendar.* * A trustworthy tradition has preserved a knowledge of the landing- place, naturally an object of interest both to the inhabitants and to strangers. It was Plymouth Eock. Part of it is now embedded in a wharf. ... In 1775 the rock was broken into two pieces in an at- tempt to remove it to the town square. The large fragment which was Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 151 No time was now lost. By the end of the week the Mayflower had brought her company to keep their Sab- bath by their future home. Further examination con- firmed the agreeable impressions which had been received. There was found a convenient harbor, " compassed with a goodly land." The countiy was well wooded. It had clay, sand, and shells, for bricks, mortar, and pottery, and stone for wells and chimneys ; the sea and beach promised abundance of fish and fowl, and " four or five small running brooks" brought a supply of "very sweet fresh water." After prayer for further divine guidance, they fixed upon a spot for the erection of their dwellings, in the neighbor- hood of a brook " and many delicate springs," and of a hill suitable for a lookout and a defence. A storm inter- rupted their proceeding. When it was past, " so many of them as could went on shore, felled and cam-ied timber, to provide themselves stuff for building." Then came Sunday, when " the people on shore heard a cry of some savages, as they thought, which caused an alarm and to stand on their guard, expecting an assault ; but all was quiet." They were still without the shelter of a roof. At the sharp winter solstice of New England, there was but " A screen of leafless branches Between them and the blast." But it was the Lord's hallowed time, and the work of separated was in 1834 placed before Pilgrim Hall and enclosed within an iron railing. The tradition does not appear to have unequivocally determined who it was that landed upon the rock, whether the ex- ploring party of ten men who went ashore at Plymouth, December 11 (Old Style), or the whole company who came into Plymouth harbor in the Mayflower on Saturday, December 16, and who, or a part of whom, " went a land" two days after. The received opinion, that the same landing-place, as being the most convenient within sight, was used on both occasions, appears altogether probable. 152 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Palfrey building must wait. Next followed the day solemnized, in the ancient fanes of the continent they had left, with the most pompous ritual of what they esteemed a vain will-worship. And the reader pauses to ponder and analyze the feeling of stern exultation with which its record Avas made: "Monday, the 25th day, we went on shore, some to fell timber, some to saw, some to rive, and some to carry ; so no man rested all that day." The first operations were the beginning of a platform for the ordnance, and of a building, twentj'- feet square, for a storehouse and for common occupation. Nineteen plots for dwellings were laid out, on the opposite sides of a way running along the north side of the brook. The number of plots corresponded to that of the families into which the company was now divided ; the appropriation was made by lot ; and the size of each plot was such as to allow half a rod in breadth, and three rods in depth, for each person included in the family. It " was agreed that each man should build his own house." "The frost and foul weather hindered them much." " Seldom could they work half the week." Time was lost in going to and from the vessel, to which in the severe cold they were obliged often to repair for lodging. They were delayed in unloading for want of boats; and stone, mortar, and thatch were slowly provided. These were discouraging circumstances ; but far worse troubles were to come. The labor of providing habita- tions had scarcely begun, when sickness set in, the con- sequence of exposure and bad food. "Within four months it carried off nearly half their number. Six died in Decem- ber, eight in January, seventeen in February, and thirteen in March. At one time during the winter only six or seven had strength enough left to nurse the dying and bury the dead. Destitute of every provision which the weakness Palfrey] THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS. 153 and the daintiness of the invalid require, the sick lay- crowded in the unwholesome vessel, or in half-built cabins heaped around with snow-drifts. The rude sailors refused them even a share of those coarse sea-stores which would have given a little variety to their diet, till disease spread among the crew, and the kind ministrations of those whom they had neglected and affronted bi-ougbt them to a better temper. The dead were interred in a bluff by the water- side, the marks of burial being carefully effaced, lest the natives should discover how the colony had been weakened. The imagination vainly tasks itself to comprehend the horrors of that fearful winter. The only mitigations were that the cold was of less severity than is usual in the place, and that there was not an entire want of food and shelter. Meantime, courage and fidelity never gave out. The well carried out the dead through the cold and snow, and then hastened back from the burial to wait on the sick ; and as the sick began to recover, they took the places of those whose strength had been exhausted. There was no time and there was no inclination to despond. The lesson rehearsed at Leyden was not forgotten, " that all great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, and must be both enterprised and overcome with answer- able courages." The dead had died in a good service, and the fit way for survivors to honor and lament them was to be true to one another, and to work together bravely for the cause to which dead and living had alike been conse- crated. The devastation increased the necessity of prepa- rations for defence ; and it was at the time when the com- pany was diminishing at the rate of one on every second day, that a military organization was formed, with Stand- ish for the captain, and the humble fortification on the hill overlooking the dwellings was mounted with five guns. 154 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson " "Warm and fair weather" came at length, and " the birds sang in the woods most pleasantly." ^Never was spring more welcome than when it opened on this afflicted company. [Their fears of trouble with the Indians proved not unfounded The friendliness at first displayed by the savages soon gave way to threats of hostilities. In 1622 the Narragansetts sent to the colony a bundle of arrows tied with a snake-skin, as a declaration of war. Bradford, the governor, with grim humor, filled the snake-skin with powder and ball, and returned it. The frightened savages refused to keep it. It passed from hand to hand, and at length came back to Plymouth. A conspiracy to murder the settlers was discovered in 1623, and repressed by Standish, who killed the ringleaders of the plot. This settled all Indian troubles for years. The colony of Plymouth prospered from that time forward. It never attained great dimen- sions, the Boston colony proving more attractive to settlers, but " the virtue displayed in its institution and management, and the great consequences to which it led," will always claim for it the attention of mankind. After several eff"orts to found other colonies, one was established at Salem in 1628. This " Colony of Massachusetts Bay" made rapid progress, and by 1634 "between three and four thousand Englishmen were distributed among twenty hamlets along and near the sea-shore." The work of establishing an English agricultural set- tlement in New England had been accomplished.] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS IN NEW ENGLAND. WILLIAM ROBERTSON. [The New England colonists made vigorous eflTorts to establish firmly their political rights. The original charter contained no provision for the self-government or religious freedom of the people, who were left, in these particulars, at the mercy of the Company and the king. In furtherance of their democratic sentiments, the bold step was taken, in 1630, of removing the governing council from England to Massachu- KOBERTSON] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 155 setts, while the provincial government took every precaution to prevent the Church of England from extending its authority over the colony. In matters of conscience the colonists manifested from the first an autocratic tendency, and the determination that God should be wor- shipped in their province in only one way, and that the way of the Puritans. That thought could be confined to so narrow a channel was, however, impossible, and there began at an early date that strenu- ous effort to weed out what was to them heresy which forms an im- portant part of the history of New England. To the earliest of these troubles, that connected with the name of Koger Williams, the settle- ment of the province of Khode Island was due. Similar religious dis- sensions had their share in the settlement of the provinces of Connec- ticut, Maine, and New Hampshire. We select a description of these events from Kobertson's " History of America," a favorite historical work of the last century. We may premise by saying that Roger Williams was a young Puri- tan minister, of fine talents and education, who had been driven out of England by the intolerance of Archbishop Laud. On landing in Boston he found himself unable to join the church in that place, from its opposition to his views respecting religious freedom. He was sub- sequently called to the church in Salem, but was prevented from officiating through the opposition of Governor Winthrop. Two years afterwards he again received a pastoral call to Salem. Here his doc- trine gave great offence to the colony, though he was warmly sup- ported by the people of Salem.] However liberal their system of civil policy might be, as their religious opinions were no longer under any re- straint of authority, the spirit of fanaticism continued to spread, and became every day wilder and more extrava- gant. Williams, a minister of Salem, in high estimation, having conceived an antipathy to the cross of St. George in the standard of England, declaimed against it with so much vehemence as a relic of superstition and idolatry which ought not to be retained among a people so pure and sanctified, that Endicott, one of the members of the coui't of assistants, in a transport of zeal, publicly cut out the cross from the ensign displayed before the governor's 156 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson gate. This frivolous matter interested and divided the colony. Some of the militia scrupled to follow colors in which there was a cross, lest they should do honor to an idol ; others refused to serve under a mutilated banner, lest they should be suspected of having renounced their allegiance to the crown of England. After a long contro- versy, carried on by both jDarties with that heat and zeal which, in trivial disputes, supply the want of argument, the contest was terminated by a compromise. The cross was retained in the ensigns of forts and ships, but erased from the colors of the militia. Williams, on account of this, as well as of some other doctrines deemed unsound, was banished out of the colony. [Among these obnoxious doctrines were, that it Avas wrong to en- force an oath of allegiance to the sovereign, or of obedience to the magistrate; that the king had no right to usurp the power of dis- posing of the territory of the Indians, and, more particularly, that all religious sects had the right to claim equal protection from the laws, and that the civil magistrates had no right to restrain the consciences of men, or to interfere with their modes of worship or religious beliefs. It was decided to send the heretical pastor to England, and he was ordered to repair to Boston. As he did not obey this order, a party was sent to Salem to arrest him. On reaching there they found that Williams had left the settlement, and was making his way through the forest wilderness and the cold and hardship of a New England winter in search of a locality where he might have the privilege of worshipping God in accordance with the dictates of his conscience.] The prosperous state of New England was now so highly extolled, and the simple frame of its ecclesiastic policy was so much admired by all whose affections were estranged from the Church of England, that crowds of new settlers flocked thither (1635). Among these were two persons whose names have been rendered memorable by the appearance which they afterwards made on a more conspicuous theatre : one was Hugh Peters, the enthusi- i KoBERTSON] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 157 astic and intriguing chaplain of Oliver Cromwell ; the othei*, Mr. Henry Vane, son of Sir Henry Vane, a privy counsellor, high in office, and of great credit with the king: a young man of a noble family, animated with such zeal for pure religion and such love of liberty as induced him to relinquish all his hopes in England and to settle in a colony hitherto no further advanced in improvement than barely to afford subsistence to its members, was re- ceived with the fondest admiration. His mortified ap- pearance, his demure look, and rigid manners, cai'ried even beyond the standard of preciseness in that society which he joined, seemed to indicate a man of high spirit- ual attainments, while his abilities and address in business pointed him out as worthy of the highest station in the community. With universal consent, and high expecta- tions of advantage from his administration, he was elected governor in the year subsequent to his arrival (1636). But as the affairs of an infant colony afforded not objects adequate to the talents of Vane, his busy pragmatical spirit occupied itself with theological subtleties and specu- lations unworthy of his attention. These were excited by a woman, whose reveries produced such effects, both within the colony and beyond its precincts, that, frivolous as they may now appear, they must be mentioned as an occurrence of importance in its history. It was the custom at that time in New England among the chief men in every congregation to meet once a week, in order to repeat the sermons which they had heard, and to hold religious conferences with respect to the doctrine contained in them. Mrs. Hutchinson, whose husband Avas among the most respectable members of the colony, regretting that persons of her sex were excluded from the benefit of those meetings, assembled statedly in her house a number of women, who employed themselves I. U 158 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kobertson in pious exercises similar to those of the men. At first she satisfied herself with repeating what she could recol- lect of the discourses delivered by their teachers. She began afterwards to add illustrations, and at length pro- ceeded to censure some of the clergy as unsound, and to vent opinions and fancies of her own. These were all founded on the system which is denominated Antinomian by divines, and tinged with the deepest enthusiasm. She taught that sanctity of life is no evidence of justification, or of a state of favor with God ; and that such as incul- cated the necessity of manifesting the reality of our faith by obedience preached only a covenant of works : she contended that the spirit of God dwelt personally in good men, and by inward revelations and impressions they received the fullest discoveries of the divine will. The fluency and confidence with which she delivered these notions gained her many admirers and prosel3'tes, not only among the vulgar, but among the principal inhab- itants. The whole colony was interested and agitated. Vane, whose sagacity and acuteness seemed to forsake him whenever they were turned toward religion, espoused and defended her wildest tenets. Many conferences were held, days of fasting and humiliation were appointed, a general synod was called, and, after dissensions so violent as threatened the dissolution of the colony, Mrs. Hutch- inson's opinions were condemned as erroneous, and she herself banished (1637). Several of her disciples with- drew from the province of their own accord. Yane quitted America in disgust, unlamented even by those who had lately admired him ; some of whom now re- garded him as a mere visionary, and others as one of those dark turbulent spirits doomed to embroil every society into which they enter. However much these theological contests might disquiet Robertson] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS 159 the colony of Massachusetts Bay, they contributed to the more speedy population of America. When Williams was banished from Salem, in the year one thousand six hundred and thirty-four, such was the attachment of his hearers to a pastor whose piety they revered, that a good number of them voluntarily accompanied him in his exile. They directed their march towards the south ; and having pur- chased from the natives a considerable tract of land, to which Williams gave the name of Providence, they settled there. They were joined soon after by some of those to whom the proceedings against Mi-s. Hutchinson gave dis- gust ; and by a transaction with the Indians they obtained a right to a fertile island in Narragansett Bay, which ac- quired the name of Rhode Island. Williams remained among them upwards of forty years, respected as the father and the guide of the colony which he had planted. His spirit differed from that of the Puritans in Massachu- setts ; it was mild and tolerating; and, having ventured himself to reject established opinions, he endeavored to secure the same liberty to other men, by maintaining that the exercise of private judgment was a natural and sacred right ; that the civil magistrate had no compulsive juris- diction in the concerns of religion ; that the punishment of any person on account of his opinions was an encroach- ment on conscience and an act of persecution. These humane principles he instilled into his followers, and all who felt or dreaded oppression in other settlements re- sorted to a community in which universal toleration was known to be a fundamental maxim. In the plantations of Providence and Rhode Island, political union was es- tablished by voluntary association and the equality of condition among the members, as well as their religious opinions; their form of government was purely democrat- ical, the supreme power being lodged in the freemen per- 160 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Robertson sonally assembled. In this state they remained until they were incorporated by charter. To similar causes the colon}" of Connecticut is indebted for its origin. The rivalship between Mr. Cotton and Mr. Hooker, two favorite ministers in the settlement of Mas- sachusetts Bay, disposed the latter, who was least success- ful in this contest for fame and power, to wish for some settlement at a distance from a competitor by whom his reputation was eclipsed. A good number of those who had imbibed Mrs. Hutchinson's notions, and were offended at such as combated them, offered to accompany him. Having employed proper persons to explore the country, they pitched upon the west side of the great river Con- necticut as the most inviting station ; and in the year one thousand six hundred and thirty-six, about an hundred persons, with their wives and families, after a fatiguing march of many days through woods and swamps, arrived there, and laid the foundations of the towns of Hartford, Springfield, and Wethersfield. [As appears in the selection which immediately follows this one, previous settlements had been made in the same locality.] The history of the fii'st attempts to people the provinces of New Hampshire and Main, which form the fourth and most extensive division in New England, is obscure and perplexed by the interfering claims of vai'ious proprietors. The company of Plymouth had inconsiderately parcelled out the northern part of the territory contained in its grant among different persons ; of these only Sir Ferdi- nando Gorges and Captain Mason seem to have had any serious intention to occupy the lands allotted to them. Their efforts to accomplish this were meritorious and per- severing, but unsuccessful. The expense of settling colo- nies in an uncultivated country must necessarily be great Robertson] RELIGIOUS DISSENSIONS. 161 and immediate ; the prospect of a return is often uncer- tain and always remote. The funds of two private adven- turers were not adequate to such an undertaking. Nor did the planters whom they sent out possess that principle of enthusiasm which animated their neighbors of Massa- chusetts with vigor to struggle through all the hardships and dangers to which society, in its infancy, is exposed in a savage land. Gorges and Mason, it is probable, must have abandoned their design if, from the same motives that settlements had been made in Ehode Island and Connecti- cut, colonists had not unexpectedly migrated into New Hampshire and Main. Mr. Wheelwright, a minister of some note, nearly related to Mrs. Hutchinson, and one of her most fervent admirers and partisans, had, on this account, been banished from the province of Massachu- setts Bay. In quest of a new station, he took a course opposite to the other exiles, and, advancing towards the north, founded the town of Exeter, on a small river flow- ing into Piskataqua Bay. His followers, few in number, but firmly united, were of such rigid principles that even the churches of Massachusetts did not appear to them sufficiently pure. From time to time they received some recruits, whom love of novelt}', or dissatisfaction with the ecclesiastical institutions of the other colonies, prompted to join them. Their plantations were widelj' dispersed, but the country was thinly peopled, and its political state extremely unsettled. The colony of Massachusetts Bay claimed jurisdiction over them, as occupying lands situ- ated within the limits of their grant. Gorges and Mason assei'ted the rights conveyed to them as proprietors by their charter. In several districts the planters, without regarding the pretensions of either party, governed them- selves by maxims and laws copied from those of their brethi'en in the adjacent colonies. The first reduction of i.—l 14* 162 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister the political constitution in the provinces of JSTew Hamp- shire and Main into a regular and permanent form was subsequent to the Eevolution. THE PEQUOT WAR. G. H. HOLLISTER. [The settlement of Connecticut began in 1631, in which year an Indian sachem, named Wahquimacut, visited the governors of the Massachusetts and Plymouth colonies. He described the country oc- cupied by his own and kindred tribes as a rich and beautiful valley, abounding in game and com, and traversed by a river called " Con- necticut," a noble stream, of surpassing purity of waters, and full of excellent fish. He begged each settlement to send Englishmen to the valley, offering to give each emigrant eighty beaver-skins annu- ally, and to supply them with corn. This anxiety for white settlers was probably instigated by the desire to obtain their aid against the Pequot Indians, who dominated the region. Governor Winslow, of Plymouth, went to see for himself this Indian Paradise. His report must have been very favorable, for other explorers followed, and in 1633 a trading-settlement was made on the Connecticut coast. This excited the ire of the Dutch, who had already established themselves at Hartford. "Wouter van Twiller, the Dutch governor, proceeded in martial array to suppress the intruders, but as the latter stood boldly on the defensive he marched back again, concluding that he could best show his wisdom by letting them alone. In 1635 several settle- ments were made in the new colony, and John Winthrop, the agent of Lord Say and Seal and Lord Brook, the proprietors, was sent to build a fort at the mouth of the Connecticut, which he did just in time to scare back the Dutch, who had sent an expedition for the same purpose. The succeeding winter was one of excessive severity, and the colo- nists and the garrison of the fort at Saybrook sufi'ered terribly. Most of them made their way back to Boston, by land or water, to escape the danger of starvation. The few that remained barely survived the HoLLiSTER] THE PEqUOT WAR. 163 horrors of the winter. But with the coming of April again upon the land many of the fugitives returned, while others followed them, and the colony rapidly augmented. It was not long, however, before trouble with the Indians began. The most important of the Connec- ticut Indians were the Pequots and the Mohegans, the former under a head sachem named Sassacus, who was bitterly ht)stile to the whites, the latter under the celebrated Uncas, who allied himself with the settlers. The Narragansetts and other tribes, from their hostility to the warlike Pequots, favored the English, through whom they hoped to be revenged upon their dreaded foes. A series of murders by Indians followed the settling of the colony. In 1634 two traders were slaughtered. The next year other murders took place. In reprisal an expedition from Massachusetts attacked the Indians, much to the dissatisfaction of the Connecticut settlers, who feared they would pay bitterly for this assault. Their prevision was correct. The Pequots lurked about the fort, torturing all who fell into their hands. They similarly waylaid the settlers, killing and de- stroying, until the situation grew unbearable. War was resolved upon, and on the 10th of May, 1637, an army of ninety Englishmen, under John Mason, and seventy Mohegans, under Uncas, embarked at Hart- ford for the Pequot strongholds. Fort Mistick, the smaller of the twt> Pequot forts, was approached at night, with the intention of efiecting a surprise. The story of this Indian war we select from G. H. HoUis- ter's "History of Connecticut," in which it is detailed in homely but graphic language.] About two hours before day, the men were roused up and commanded to make themselves ready for battle. The moon still shone in their faces as they were sum- moned to prayer. They now set forward with alacrity. The fort proved to be about two miles off. A long way it seemed over the level though stony ground, and the offi- cers began at last to fear that they had been led upon the wrong track, when they came at length to a second field of corn, newly planted, at the base of a high hill. Here they halted, and " gave the word for some of the Indians to come up." At first not an Indian was to be seen ; but finally Uncas and Wequash the guide showed themselves. 164 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister " "Where is the fort ?" demanded Mason. " On the top of that hill," was the answer. " Where are the rest of the Indians ?" asked the fearless soldier. The answer was, what he probably anticipated, " Behind, and very much afraid." " Tell them," said Mason, " not to fly, but to stand as far ofi" as they please, and see whether English- men will fight." There were two entrances to the fort, one on the north- eastern side, the other on the west. It was decided that Mason should lead on and force open the former, while Underbill, who brought up the rear, was to pass around and go in at the western gate. Mason had approached within^about a rod of the fort, when he heard a dog bark, and almost in a breath this alarm was followed up by the voice of an Indian, crying, "Owanux! Owanux!" — Englishmen! Englishmen! No time was to be lost. He called up his forces with all haste and fired upon the enemy through the palisades. The Pequots, who had spent the night in singing and dancing (under the beHef that the English had retreated), were now in a deep sleep. The entrance, near which Mason stood, was blocked up with bushes about breast high. Over this frail obstruction he leaped, sword in hand, shouting to his men to follow him. But Scely, his lieu- tenant, found it more easy to remove the bushes than to force the men over them. When he had done so, he also entered, followed by sixteen soldiers. It had been deter- mined to destroy the enemy with the sword, and thus save the corn and other valuables that were stored in the wigwams. With this view the captain, seeing no Indians, entered one of the wigwams. Here he found many war- riors, who crowded hard upon him, and beset him with great violence ; but they were so amazed at the strange apparition that had so suddenly thrust itself upon them, Hollister] the PEQUOT WAR. 165 that they could make but a feeble resistance. Mason was soon joined by William Hayden, who, as he entered the wigwam through the breach that had been made by his impetuous captain, stumbled against the dead body of a Pequot, whom Mason had slain, and fell. Some of the Indians now fled from the wigwam ; others, still stupefied with sleep, crept under mats and skins to hide them- selves. The palisades embraced an area of about twenty acres, — a space sufficient to afford room for a large Indian village. There were more than seventy houses in this space, with lanes or streets passing between them. Mason, still intent on destroying the Pequots and at the same time saving their property, now left the wigwam, and passed down one of these streets, driving the crowd of Indians that thronged it before him from one end of it to the othgr. At the lower extremity of this lane stood a little company of Englishmen, who, having effected an entrance from the west, met the Indians as they fled from Mason, and killed about half a dozen of them. The captain now faced about, and went back the whole length of the lane, to the spot where he had entered the fort. He was exhausted, and quite out of breath, and had become satisfied that this was not the way to exterminate the Indians, who now swarmed from the wigwams like bees from a hive. Two of his soldiers stood near him, close to the palisades, with their useless swords pointed to the ground. " We shall never kill them in this way," said the captain ; and then added, with the same laconic brevity, ^'We must burn them!'' With these words the decree of the council of war to save the booty of the enemy was annulled ; for, stepping into the wigwam where he had before forced an entrance, he snatched a firebrand in his hand, and, instantly returning, applied it to the light mats that formed the covering of 166 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister their rude tenements. Almost in an instant the whole village was wrapped in flaines, and the frightened Pequots fled in dismay from the roofs that had just before sheltered them. Such was their terror that many of them took refuge from the English in the flames, and perished there. Some climbed the palisades, where they formed but too fair a mark for the muskets of their enemies, who could 3ee to take a dead aim in the light of the ghastly con- flagration. Others fled from the beds of mats or skins where they had sought a temporary concealment, and were arrested by the hand of death in the midst of their flight. Others still, warping up to the windward, whence the fire si:)ed with such fatal velocity, fell flat upon the ground and plied their destroyers with arrows. But their hands were so palsied with fear that the feathered messengers either fl§w wide of their aim or fell with spent force upon the ground. A few, of still stouter heart, rushed forth with the tomahawk, to engage the invaders of their homes in a hand-to-hand combat. But they were nearly all, to the number of about forty, cut in pieces by the sword. The vast volume of flame, the lurid light reflected on the dark background of the horizon, the crack of the muskets, the 3^ells of the Indians who fought, and of those who sought vainly to fly, the wail of women and children as they writhed in the flames, and the exulting cries of the Narra- gansetts and Mohegans without the fort, formed a contrast, awful and sublime, with the quiet glories of the peaceful May morning, that was just then breaking over the woods and the ocean. Seventy wigwams were burned to ashes, and proba- bly not less than five hundred men, women, and children were destroyed. The property, too, shared the same fate. The long-cherished wampum-belt, with the beads of blue, purple, and white, the war-club, the eagle plume, the floLLiSTER] THE PEQUOT WAR. 167 tufted scalps, trophies of many a victory, helped only to swell the blaze that consumed alike the young warrior and the superannuated counsellor, the squaw and the little child that clung helplessly to her bosom. Of all who were in the fort, only seven were taken captive, and about the same number escaped. [The English, however, were in no enviable situation. Two of them had been killed, and about twenty wounded. They were with- out provisions, in the midst of an unfamiliar country, and within a short distance of the fort of Sassacus, tenanted by hundreds of fierce warriors. Fortunately, the vessels were now seen, gliding into the Pequot harbor.] By this time the news of the destruction that had fallen upon his tribe at Mistick, heralded, no doubt, not only by the handful of men who had escaped from the fort, and by the clouds of smoke that floated from the fatal scone, but by the dismal cries that attended this exterminating sacrifice, had reached the fort of Sassacus, and three hundred warriors came rushing towards the English with the determination to revenge themselves for an injury not yet half revealed to them. Mason led out a file of his best marksmen, who soon gave the Pequots a check. Seeing that the}" could not stand his fire, he com- menced his march towards Pequot harbor. Of the twent}' wounded men, four or five were so disabled that it was necessary' to employ about twenty other men to carry them ; so that he had but about forty men who could engage in battle, until he succeeded in hiring some In- dians to take charge of the wounded. They had marched about a quarter of a mile, when the Pequot warriors, who had withdrawn out of the range of their muskets, reached the spot whei-e, not two hours before, their fort had sheltered so much that was sacred to them. "When 168 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hollister they came to the top of the hill, venerable to them from 80 many associations connected with the history and glory of their tribe, — when they saw the smoking palisades, the flames of their wigwams, not yet extinguished, the black- ened bodies that lay scattered where death had overtaken them, — in their grief and rage they stamped upon the ground, tore the hair from their heads, and then rushed madly down the hill, as if they would have swept the enemy from the face of the earth. Captain Underbill, with a tile of the bravest men, was ordered to defend the rear. This he did with such efficiency that the Indians were soon compelled to fall back. Yet such was their re- solve to have their revenge upon the English that during their march for the next six miles they pursued them, sometimes hanging upon their rear, sometimes hidden behind trees and rocks in front, discharging their arrows in secret, at others making desperate attacks, that could be repelled only by the too deadly use of the musket. They fought at fearful odds, as was evinced by the dead bodies of their warriors picked up by the Mohegans who followed in their train, while not an Englishman was injured during the whole line of their march. At last, wearied with a pursuit that only brought harm to them- selves, they abandoned it, and left the English to con- tinue their march unmolested, with their colors flj^ing, to Pequot harbor. Here they were received on board their vessels with many demonstrations of joy. [This disaster utterly disheartened the Pequots. They accused Sas- sacus of having brought ruin upon them, and in dismay burned their remaining fort and fled for safety. Sassacus and about eighty of his principal warriors made their way towards the Hudson. They were rapidly followed, and at length traced to a swamp within the limits of the old town of Fairfield.] In this swamp were hidden about eighty Pequot war- HollisterJ the PEQUOT WAR. 169 riors, with their women and children, and about two hun- dred other Indians. A dismal, miry bog it was, covered with tangled bushes. Dangerous as it was, Lieutenant Davenport rushed into it with his men, eager to en- counter the Pequots. The sharp arrows of the enemy flew from places that hid the archers, wounding the soldiers, who, in their haste to retreat, only sunk deeper in the mire. The Indians, made bold by this adventure, pressed hard upon them, and would have carried off their scalps had it not been for the timely aid of some other Englishmen, who waded into the swamp, sword in hand, drove back the Pequots, and drew their disabled friends from the mud that had threatened to swallow them up. The swamp was now surrounded, and a skirmish followed that proved so destructive to the savages that the Fairfield Indians begged for quarter. They said, what was probably true, that they were there only by accident, and had never done the English any harm. [They were permitted to withdraw, with their women and children.] But the Pequot warriors, made up of choice men, and burning with rage against the enemy who had destroyed their tribe and driven them ft-om their old haunts, fought with such desperate bravery that the English were glad to confine themselves to the borders of the swamp. . . . Some suggested that they should cut down the swamp with the hatchets that they had brought with them; others, that they should surround it with palisades. Neither of these propositions was adopted. They finally hit upon a plan that was more easily executed. They cut down the bushes that grew upon a little neck of firm upland that almost divided the swamp into two parts. In this way they so lessened the area occupied by the I.— H 15 170 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Hollister Pequots that, by stationing men twelve feet apart, it could all be surrounded by the ti'00j)s. This was done, and the sentinels all stationed, before nightfall. Thus keeping watch on the boi'ders of the morass, wet, cold, and weary, the soldiers passed the night under arms. Just before day a dense fog arose, that shrouded them in almost total darkness. A friendly mist it proved to the Pequots, for it doubtless saved the lives of many of them. At a favor- able moment they rushed upon the English. Captain Patrick's quarters were first attacked, but he drove them back more than once. Their yells, more terrible from the darkness that engulfed the scene of the conflict, were so unearthly and appalling, the attack was so sudden and so well sustained, that, but for the timely interference ot a party sent by Mason to relieve him, Patrick would doubtless hav^e been driven from his station or cut to pieces. The siege had by this time given place to a hand-to-hand fight. As Mason Avas himself marching up to aid Patrick, the Pequots rushed upon him from the thicket. He drove them back with severe loss. They did not resume the attack upon the man who had recently given them such fearful proofs of his prowess, but turned upon Patrick, broke through his ranks, and fled. About sixty of the Pequot warriors escaped. Twenty lay dead upon the field. One hundred and eighty were taken pris- oners. Most of the property that this fugitive remnant of the tribe had attemjited to carry with them fell into the hands of the English. Hatchets of stone, beautiful wampum-belts, polished bows, and feathered arrows, with the utensils employed by the women in their rude do- mestic labors, became at once, as did the women them- selves, the property of the conquerors. The captives and the booty were divided between Massachusetts and Con- necticut. Some were sent by Massachusetts to the West Hollister] the PEQUOT WAR. 171 Indies, and there, as slaves, dragged out a wretched but brief existence. . . . Those who fell to the colony of Con- necticut found their condition more tolerable. Some of them, it is true, spent their days in servitude ; yet its rigors softened as the horrors of the war faded from the recollections of the English. Sassacus seems not to have been pi'esent at this battle. Foiled and discomfited at every turn, he fled far to the westward, and sought a refuge among the enemies of his tribe, the Mohawks. But he looked in vain for protection at their hands. He had defied them in his prosperity, and in his evil days they avenged themselves. They be- headed him, and sent his scalp as a trophy to Connecticut. A lock of his black, glossy hair was carried to Boston in the fall of the same year, as a witness that the proud sachem of the Pequots was no more. [So ended the first Indian war in New England. About two hun- dred of the vanquished tribe still survived. These were divided be- tween the Mohegans and Narragansetts, and the tribal organization completely brol^en up. The bow and arrow and stone axe had been tried against the sword and musket, and had signally failed. In the future wars, of muslcet against muslcet, the suppression of the Indians was not to prove so easy a task. It may be said here that this was one of the most justifiable wars ever waged by the settlers against the Indians. The murderous incursions of the Pequots upon the peaceful settlers had become so unbearable that annihilation of one side or the other seemed the only solution of the problem.] 172 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. FRANCIS PARKMAN. [The first permanent French settlement in America, as we have al- ready stated, was made by De Monts in 1605, on the coast of the Bay of Fundy, the settlement being named Port Koyal, and the country Acadia. In 1608, De Monts was granted a monopoly of the fur-trade on the St. Lawrence Eiver, and sent out two vessels under Samuel Champlain, who had previously visited that region. Champlain as- cended the river to the site of the present city of Quebec, near the place where Cartier had wintered in 1541. The colony he there estab- lished was the first permanent French settlement in Canada. The history of this colony under Champlain's management, of the explo- rations which he made, and of his hostile relations with the Iroquois Indians, is one of the greatest interest, and reads like a page from romance rather than the detail of sober history. Champlain was one of the most active and earnest explorers the world has ever known. " A true hero, after the chivalrous medi- a?val type, his character was dashed largely with the spirit of romance. Earnest, sagacious, penetrating, he yet leaned to the marvellous ; and the faith which was the life of his hard career was somewhat prone to overstep the bounds of reason and invade the alluring domain of fancy." In early life he had been seized with a desire to explore those golden realms from which the Spaniards sedulously excluded the people of other European nations. He entered the Spanish service, and made his way to the West Indies and Mexico. He afterwards took part in the Port Royal expedition of De Monts, and explored the New England coast. His enterprising spirit, while of the utmost im- portance to the success of the Canadian colony, brought the colonists into hostile relations with the powerful Iroquois confederacy of In- dians, and started a bitter and unrelenting war through which the settlement was more than once threatened with annihilation. The colony of Canada had no thought of agriculture. It was dis- tinctively a trading-settlement, a condition conducive to adventurous excursions, in which movements Champlain was the leading spirit. It, unlike all other American colonies, entered at once into an alliance, offensive and defensive, with the neighboring Indian tribes, aided Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 173 them in their wars, and roused the undying enmity of powerful foes. A description of the settlement of Quebec, of Champlain's first excur- sion with the Indians, of the discovery of the lake which bears his name, and of his first encounter with the Iroquois, may be taken from Parkman's " Pioneers of Prance in the New "World."] And now, peace being established with the Basques, and the wounded Pontgrave busied, as far as might be, in transferring to the hold of his ship the rich lading of the Indian canoes, Champlain spread his sails, and once more held his course up the St. Lawrence. . . . Above the point of the Island of Orleans, a constriction of the vast channel narrows it to a mile : on one hand the green heights of Point Levi ; on the other, the cliffs of Quebec. Here a small stream, the St. Charles, enters the St. Lawrence, and in the angle between them rises the promontory, on two sides a natural fortress. Land among the walnut-trees that formed a belt between the cliffs and the St. Lawrence. Climb the steep height, now bearing aloft its ponderous load of churches, convents, dwellings, ramparts, and batteries, — there was an accessible point, a rough passage, gullied downward where Prescott Gate now opens on the Lower Town. . . . Two centuries and a half have quickened the solitude with swarming life, cov- ered the deep bosom of the river with barge and steamer and gliding sail, and reared cities and villages on the site of forests ; but nothing can destroy the surpassing gran- deur of the scene. . . . A few weeks passed, and a pile of wooden buildings rose on the brink of the St. Lawrence, on or near the site of the market-place of the Lower Town of Quebec. The pencil of Champlain. always regardless of proportion and perspective, has preserved its semblance. A strong wooden wall, surmounted by a gallery loop-holed for musketry, enclosed three buildings, containing quarters I. 15* 174 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman for himself and his men, together with a court-yard, from one side of which rose a tall dove-cot, like a belfry. A moat surrounded the whole, and two or three small can- non were planted on salient platforms towards the river. There was a large magazine near at hand, and a part of the adjacent ground was laid out as a garden. . . . It was on the eighteenth of September that Pont- grave set sail, leaving Champlain with twenty-eight men to hold Quebec through the winter. Three weeks later, and shores and hills glowed with gay prognostics of approach- ing desolation, — the yellow aud scarlet of the maples, the deep purple of the ash, the garnet hue of young oaks, the bonfire blaze of the tupelo at the water's edge, and the golden plumage of birch saplings in the fissure of the cliff. It was a short-lived beauty. The forest dropped its festal robes. Shrivelled and faded, they rustled to the earth. The crystal air and laughing sun of October passed away, and November sank upon the shivering waste, chill and sombre as the tomb. . . . One would gladly know how the founders of Quebec spent the long hours of their first winter; but on this point the only man among them, perhaps, who could write, has not thought it necessary to enlarge. He him- self beguiled his leisure with trapping foxes, or hanging a dead dog from a tree and watching the hungry martens in their efforts to reach it. Towards the close of winter, all found abundant employment in nursing themselves or their neighbors, for the inevitable scurvy broke out with virulence. At the middle of May only eight men of the twenty-eight were alive, and of these half were suffering from disease. . . . Great was the joy of Champlain when he saw a sail-boat rounding the Point of Orleans, betoken- ing that the spring had brought with it the longed-for succors. Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 175 [Poiitgrave had returned with supplies and emigrants. After a con- sultation it was decided that he should remain in charge of Quebec while Champlain entered upon his meditated explorations, by which he hoped to find a practicable way to China. It was the same dream of a passage to the Pacific that had animated so many of his prede- cessors.] But there was a lion in the path. The Indian tribes, war-hawks of the wilderness, to whom peace was unknown, infested with their scalping-parties the streams and path- ways of the forest, increasing tenfold its inseparable risks. That to all these hazards Champlain was more than indif- ferent, his after-career bears abundant witness ; yet now an expedient for evading them offered itself, so consistent with his instincts that he was fain to accept it. Might he not anticipate surprises, join a war-party, and fight his way to discovery ? During the last autumn a young chief from the banks of the then unknown Ottawa had been at Quebec ; and, amazed at what he saw, he had begged Champlain to join him in the spring against his enemies. These enemies were a for- midable race of savages, the Iroquois, or Five Confederate Nations, dwelling in fortified villages within limits now embraced by the State of New York. [The Canadian foes of this confederacy were the Hurons, a tribe ot their own race, the Algonquins of the St. Lawrence region, and the Montagnais, a less energetic tribe of the same region. With these Indians Champlain joined himself in a projected expedition against their powerful enemies.] It was past the middle of May, and the expected war- riors from the upper country had not come, — a delay Avhich seems to have given Champlain little concern, for, without waiting longer, he set forth with no better allies than a band of Montagnais. But as he moved up the St. Law- rence he saw, thickly clustered in the bordering forest, the 176 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman lodges of an Indian camp, and, landing, found his Hui'on and Algonquin allies. Few of them had ever seen a white man. They surrounded the steel-clad strangers in speech- less wonderment. Champlain asked for their chief, and the staring throng moved with him towards a lodge where sat, not one chief, but two, for each band had its own. There were feasting, smoking, speeches ; and, the needful ceremony over, all descended together to Quebec ; for the strangers were bent on seeing those wonders of architect- ure whose fame had pierced the recesses of their forests. [On May 28 the expedition again set out, passing down the St. Law- rence to the " Eiviere des Iroquois," since called the Richelieu, or the St. John. Here the warriors encamped for two days, hunted, fished, feasted, and quarrelled, three-fourths of the party seceding, while the rest pursued their course. Champlain outsailed his allies. But he soon found himself in impassable rapids, and was obliged to return. The Indians had lied to him, with the story that his shallop could traverse the river unobstructed.] But should he abandon the adventure, and forego the discovery of that great lake, studded with islands and bor- dered with a fertile land of forests, which his red compan- ions had traced in outline and by word and sign had painted to his fancy? . . . He directed Marais, with the boat and the greater part of the men, to return to Quebec, while he, with two who offered to follow him, should proceed in the Indian canoes. The warriors lifted their canoes from the water, and in long procession through the forest, under the flickering sun and shade, bore them on their shoulders ai-ound the rapids to the smooth stream above. Here the chiefs made a muster of their forces, counting twenty-four canoes and sixty warriors. All embarked again, and advanced once more, by marsh, meadow, forest, and scattered islands, then full of game, for it was an uninhabited land, the war- Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 177 path and battle-ground of hostile tribes. The warrioi's observed a certain system in their advance. Some were in front as a vanguard, others formed the main body, while an equal number were in the forests on the flanks and rear, hunting for the subsistence of the whole ; for, though they had a provision of parched maize pounded into meal, they kept it for use when, from the vicinity of the enemy, hunting should become impossible. Late in the day they landed and drew itp their canoes, ranging them closely side by side. All was life and bustle. Some stripped sheets of bark, to cover their camp-sheds; others gathered wood, — the forest was full of dead, dry trees ; others felled the living trees, for a barricade. They seem to have had steel axes, obtained by barter from the French ; for in less than two hours they had made a strong defensive work, a half-circle in form, open on the river side, where their canoes lay on the strand, and large enough to enclose all their huts and sheds. Some of their number had gone forward as scouts, and, returning, reported no signs of an enemy. This was the extent of their precau- tions, for they placed no guard, but all, in full security, stretched themselves to sleep, — a vicious custom from which the lazy warrior of the forest rarely departs. [An important part of the subsequent proceedings was the operation of the medicine-man, who entered his magic lodge and invoked the spirits in mumbling tones, while his dusky audience listened in awe and wonder. Suddenly the lodge rocked with violence to and, fro, — as alleged, by the power of the spirits, though Champlain could see the fist of the medicine-man shaking the poles. The diviner was now seized with convulsions, and invoked the spirit in an unknown lan- guage, while the answer came in squeaking and feeble accents. This mummery over, the chief stuck sticks in the earth in a certain order, each stick representing a warrior and indicating his position in the expected battle. They all gathered round and studied the sticks, then formed, broke, and reformed their ranks with alacrity and skill.] I. — m 178 AMERTCAN HISTORY. [Parkman Again the canoes advanced, the river widening as they went. Great islands appeared, leagues in extent, — Isle a la Motte, Long Island, Grande Isle. Channels where ships might float and broad reaches of expanding water stretched between them, and Champlain entered the lake which pre- serves his name to posterity. Cumberland Head was passed, and from the opening of the great channel betAveen Grande Isle and the main he could look forth on the wil- derness sea. Edged with woods, the tranquil flood spread southward beyond the sight. Far on the left the forest ridges of the Green Mountains were heaved against the sun, patches of snow still glistening on their tops; and on the right rose the Adirondacks, haunts in these later years of amateur sportsmen from counting-rooms or college halls, nay, of adventurous beauty, with sketch-book and pencil. Then the Iroquois made them their hunting-ground ; and beyond, in the valleys of the Mohawk, the Onondaga, and the Genesee, stretched the long line of their five cantons and palisaded towns. . . . The progress of the party was becoming dangerous. They changed their mode of advance, and moved only in the night. ... At twilight tbey embarked again, paddling their cautious way till the eastern sky began to redden. Their goal was the rocky promontory where Fort Ticon- deroga was long afterward built. Thence they would pass the outlet of Lake George, and launch their canoes again on that Como of the wilderness. . . . Landing at the future site of Fort William Henry, they would carry their canoes through the forest to the river Hudson, and, descending it, attack, perhaps, some outlying town of the Mohawks. . . . The allies were spai'ed so long a progress. On the morn- ing of the twenty-ninth of July, after paddling all night, they hid as usual in the forest on the western shore, not Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE IROQUOIS. 179 far from Crown Point. The warriors stretched themselves to their slumbers, and Champlain, after walking for a time through the surrounding woods, returned to take his repose on a pile of spruce boughs. . . . It was ten o'clock in the evening, when they descried dark objects in motion on the lake before them. These were a flotilla of Iroquois canoes, heavier and slower than theirs, for they were made of oak bark (or more probably elm bark). Each party saw the other, and the mingled war-cries pealed over the darkened water. The Iroquois, who were near the shore, having no stomach for an aquatic battle, landed, and, making night hideous with their clam- ors, began to barricade themselves. Champlain could sec them in the woods laboring like beavers, hacking down trees with iron axes taken from the Canadian tribes in war, and with stone hatchets of their own making. The allies remained on the lake, a bowshot from the hostile barricade, their canoes made fast together by poles lashed across. All night they danced with as much vigor as the frailty of their vessels would permit, their throats making amends for the enforced restraint of their limbs. It was agreed on both sides that the fight should be deferred till daybreak ; but meanwhile a commerce of abuse, sarcasm, menace, and boasting gave unceasing exercise to the lungs and fancy of the combatants, — " much," says Champlain, " like the besiegers and besieged in a beleaguered town." As day approached, he and his two followers put on the light armor of the time. Champlain wore the doublet and long hose then in vogue. Over the doublet he buckled on a breastplate, and probably a back-piece, while his thighs wei*e protected by cuisses of steel, and his head by a plumed casque. Across his shoulder lay the straps of his bandoleer, or ammunition-box ; at his side was his sword, and in his hand his arquebuse, which he had loaded with four balls. 180 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman Such was the equipment of this ancient Indian -fighter, whose exploits date eleven years before the landing of the Puritans at Plymouth, and sixty-six years before King Philip's War. Each of the three Frenchmen was in a separate canoe, and, as it grew light, they kept themselves hidden, either by lying in the bottom, or covering themselves with an Indian robe. The canoes approached the shore, and all landed without opposition at some distance from the Iro- quois, whom they presently could see filing out of their barricade, tall, strong men, some two hundred in nnmbei, of the boldest and fiercest warriors of North America. They advanced through the forest with a steadiness which excited the admiration of Champlain. Among them could be seen several chiefs, made conspicuous by their tall plumes. Some bore shields of wood and hide, and some were covered with a kind of armor made of tough twigs interlaced with a vegetable fibre supposed by Champlain to be cotton. The allies, growing anxious, called with loud cries for their champion, and opened their ranks that he might pass to the front. He did so, and, advancing before his red companions-in-arms, stood" revealed to the astonished gaze of the Iroquois, who, beholding the warlike apparition in their path, stared in mute amazement. But his arquebuse was levelled; the report startled the woods, a chief fell dead, and another by his side rolled among the bushes. Then there rose from the allies a yell, which, saj'S Cham- plain, would have drowned a thunder-clap, and the forest was full of whizzing arrows. For a moment, the Iroquois stood firm and sent back their arrows lustily ; but when another and another gunshot came from the thickets on their flank, they broke and fled in uncontrollable terror Swifter than hounds, the allies tore through the bushes Parkman] CHAMPLAIN AND THE JROqUOIS. 181 in pursuit. Some of the Iroquois were killed ; more were taken. Camp, canoes, provisions, all were abandoned, and many weapons flung down in the panic flight. The arque- buse had done its work. The victory was complete. . . . The victors made a prompt retreat from the scene of their triumph. Three or four days brought them to the mouth of the Eichelieu. Here they separated; the Hurons and the Algonquins made for the Ottawa, their homeward route, each with a share of prisoners for future torments. At jDarting they invited Champlain to visit their towns and aid them again in their wars, — an invitation which this paladin of the woods failed not to accept. [Thus ended the first Indian battle in the northern United States, the fruitful seed of an abundant crop of future disasters. The subse- quent history of Champlain may be rapidly epitomized. In the next year (1610) he took part in another successful war-expedition. In 1611 he founded the city of Montreal. The year 1613 he employed in an exploration of the Ottawa River, deceived by a statement that it led to a great lake which was connected with the North Sea. In 1614 he made another long journey, up the Ottawa, then overland to Lake Huron, and then south, in company with a war-party of Hurons, to the Iroquois country, where an attack was made on a strong fortifi- cation. The assault proved a failure. The Iroquois defended them- selves valiantly, and finally drove oflF their foes, Champlain being twice wounded. In 1629, twenty years after the settlement of Quebec, it contained less than a hundred persons, and these the prey of a severe famine, from whose consequences they were saved only by a surrender of the place to the English, then at war with France. At the end of the war it was restored to France. The history of Canada during the remainder of the century is largely made up of the revenge taken by the Iroquois for their earlier disasters. Their dreaded foe, Champlain, died in 1635. He had aided in making a treaty of peace between the Hurons and the Iroquois in 1622, but in 1648 the latter broke the truce, and suddenly fell upon the French and their allies, slaughtering the whites without distinction of sex or age, and causing a complete dis- persal of the Hurons, who ceased to exist as a separate tribe. For years afterwards the Iroquois remained lords of the situation, keeping I. 16 182 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan the French shut up in their fortified posts, while their allies were left without succor. The Algonquins were dispersed, the Eries obliterated, and the war ended in 1672, after more than twenty years' duration, in the conquest of the Andastes, a powerful Huron tribe. In 1687 the war was renewed, through a treacherous act of Denonville, the Cana- dian governor, and in the succeeding year the Iroquois made a descent on the Island of Montreal, which they laid waste, and carried otf two hundred prisoners. This brings us to the era of war between the French and the English, in which the services of the Indians were freely called into requisition, and desolating raids and massacres abounded.] I THE SETTLEMENT OF NEW YORK. E. B. O'CALLAGHAN. [The Dutch showed less enterprise in planting colonies in America, and less persistence in sustaining them, than any other of the maritime nations of Europe. Their only settlement in North America was that of New Amsterdam, occupying Manhattan Island, and sending branch hamlets up the Hudson and to the shores of Long Island Sound and the South or Delaware Eiver. This colony was held with very little vigor. The Dutch permitted themselves to be supplanted in Con- necticut by the English Puritans, with scarcely any resistance. The Swedes came into collision with them oa the Delaware, though these intruders were eventually subjected to Dutch authority. And in their central seat on the Hudson they had to contend with unwarranted English invasions, and were finally conquered by the English, in times of peace, and without resistance either by the colony or by the mother- country. The story of this colony is of less interest than that of most of the other American settlements. It had its contests, its intestine difiiculties, its troubles with the Indians, yet none of these were of striking importance. We extract from O'Callaghan's " History of New Netherland" some passages descriptive of the rise and progress of the settlement. Henry Hudson, the discoverer of the river that bears his name, was an English mariner, who, in the yeai-s 1G07 and UCallaqhan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 183 1608, made two voj-ages in search of a northwest passage to India. He afterwards entered the service of the Dutch East India Company, and in April, 1609, sailed on a third voyage with the same purpose. Touching at Newfoundland, he continued his course till he sighted the American coast, and then turned southward, with the hope of finding a passage-way to the Pacific through the continent. He entered Penobscot Bay, and landed at Cape Cod, which he named New Holland.] The Half Moon hence pursued a course south and west for the next ten days, and at length arrived, about the middle of August, at the entrance of the Chesapeake Bay, where the first effectual attempt to plant an English col- ony had been commenced only two years before. Hudson now retraced his steps, and in a few days afterwards dis- covered, in latitude thirtj'-nine degrees five minutes, a great bay, which has since been called Delaware. Here he anchored the Half Moon in eight fathom water, and took possession, it is said, of the country. From this place he coasted northward, the shore appearing low, like sunken ground, dotted with islands, and at length descried the Highlands of Navesinck, which, the journalist re- marks, is a very good land to fall in with, and a pleasant land to see. He found himself, on the following day, at the mouth of three great rivers, the noi'thernmost of which he attempted to enter; but, having been prevented by a shoal bar at its mouth, he cast about to the south- ward, and, after due examination of the sounding, rounded a low " sandy hook," and moored the Half Moon, on the following morning, in latitude forty degrees thirty min- utes, at a short distance from the shore, in the waters of " The Great North Eiver of New Netherlaud." While the ship lay here at anchor, the natives from the western shore came on board, and seemed to be highly pleased at the arrival of the Europeans. They brought 184 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan green tobacco, which they desired to exchange for knives and beads. They had divers ornaments, as well as pipes, made of copper; plenty of maize, or Indian corn ; dresses of deerskins, well cured, hung loosely around them. The next day some men were sent in the boat to explore the bay farther up. They landed on the western bank, which was lined with men, women, and children, by whom they were very kindly received, and ])resented with tobacco and dried currants. They found the land covered with dried oaks. The natives continued to flock on board the ship, dressed in mantles of feathers and fine furs ; their necks adorned with ornaments of copper, and some of the women had hemp. [Five of the crew were sent to examine the channel of what appeared to be an extensive river. " They described the land as covered with trees, grass, and flowers, and the air filled with delightful fragrance." On their return they were attacked, for no known cause, by a party of Indians, one man being killed and two wounded. This made Hudson very suspicious of the natives. He would permit no more to come on board, — except a few who were detained as prisoners, but afterwards escaped, — and soon weighed anchor and stood up through the Nar- rows, entering New York harbor.] Hudson, having ascended thus far, prepared now to ex- plore the magnificent river which rolled its waters into the sea from unknown regions, in the probable hope that it would lead him to the long-sought-for passage to the Indies. He accordingly weighed in the afternoon of the 12th September, and commenced his memorable voyage up that majestic stream which has since handed his name down to posterity. [He sailed on up the river, through the highland region, being everywhere received with enthusiasm by the natives, who crowded on board with their commodities.] Distrustino; the savages all alonsr, Hudson determined O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 185 now to tiy an experiment which, by throwing them off their guard, would elicit any treachery which might be latent in their dispositions. He accordingly invited sev- eral of the chiefs into the cabin, and gave them plenty of brandy to drink, so as to make them intoxicated. The result was that one got drunk, and fell sound asleep, to the great astonishment of his companions, who " could not tell how to take it." They all took suddenly to their canoes and hurried ashore, leaving their stupefied coun- tryman behind them. Their anxiety for his welfare soon induced them, however, to return with a quantity of beads which they gave him, to enable him, perhaps, to bribe or exorcise "the foul fiend" which had posses- sion of him. The savage slept soundly all night, and was quite recovered from the effects of his debauch when his friends came to see him next day. So rejoiced were these people at finding their chief restored, as it were, to life, that they returned on board in crowds again in the aftei-noon, bringing tobacco and more beads, which they presented to Hudson, to whom they made an oration, showing him the country round about. The}'' then sent one of their company on land, who presently returned with a great platter of dressed venison, which they caused Hudson to eat with them ; after which they made him profound rev- erence and departed, all save the old man, who, having had a taste of the fatal beverage, preferred to remain on board. Such Avas the introduction among the Indians, by the first European that came among them, of that poison which, combined with other causes, has since operated to deprive their descendants of almost a foothold in their native land, and caused, within a few centuries, the almost entire extinction of the Eed race. The Half Moon had now evidently ascended as high as I. 16* 186 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan she could go. She had reached a little below the present city of Albany, and Hudson, having satisfied himself, by despatching a boat some seven or eight leagues higher up, that he had gained the head of the ship-navigation, prepared to retrace his course. [His descent of the river was much more expeditious than the up- ward voyage. On reaching the vicinity of Stony Point he was visited by Indians, one of whom stole some articles fi'om the cabin and wa.' shot and killed by the mate.] On the following day they descended about seven leagues farther, and came to anchor. Here they were visited by a canoe, on board of which was one of the savages who had made his escape from the vessel as she was going uj). Fearing treachery, Hudson would not allow either him or his companions on board. Two other canoes, filled with armed warriors, now came under the stern, and com- menced an attack with arrows. They were repulsed with a loss of three men. More than a hundred savages now pushed off from the nearest point of land, but one of the ship's cannon, having been brought to bear on these, killed two of the party, and the rest fled, thereupon, to the woods. But the savages were not yet discouraged. Nine or ten of the boldest of the warriors, probably incited b}" the two who had made their escape from the Half Moon on her way up, threw themselves into a canoe and made for the vessel ; but these fared no better than those who preceded them. A cannon-shot drove a hole through their canoe, and killed one of the men. This was fol- lowed by a discharge of musketry, which killed three or four more, and put an end to the battle. The Half Moon now descended some five miles farther down, prob- ably near Hoboken, and thus got beyond the reach of all enemies. O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 187 Hudson had now thoroughly explored the river, from its mouth to the head of navigation, and had secured for his employers possessions which would reward them beyond measure for the expense they had incurred. For himself he had won an immortality which was destined to hand down his name to the latest age. Happy at the result, he left " the great mouth of the Great Eiver," and put to sea, with all sails set, to communicate to those in Holland in whose service he was the tidings of his valuable discovery. [For years a trading-station was the extent of the Dutch settlement on Manhattan Island ; yet the number of settlers gradually increased, and in 1615 a settlement was made at Albany. The country was called New Netherland. In 1618 the settlers made an important treaty of peace and alliance with the Iroquois.] When the Dutch arrived in America the tribes compos- ing the Five Nations were at war with the Algonquin or Canada Indians. But the latter, having formed an alliance with the French, who some years previous to this date had commenced the settlement of New France, as Canada was called, derived such powerful aid from the fii-e-arms of their European allies that the Iroquois were defeated in almost every rencontre with their ancient enemy. Smarting under the disgrace of these unexj)ected repulses, the Iroquois hailed the establifihment among them, now, of another European nation familiar with the use of these terrible instruments, which, almost without human intervention, scattered death wherever they were directed, and defied the war-club and bow and arrow as weapons of attack or defence. Though jealous by nature, and given to suspicion, the Indians ex- hibited none of these feelings towards the new-comers, whose numbers were too few even to protect themselves or to inflict injury on others. On the contrary, they courted their friendship, for through them they shrewdly calculated on being placed in a condition to cope with the foe, or to 188 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Cali.aghan obtain that bloody triumph for which they thirsted. Such were the circumstances which now led to that treaty of alliance which, as the tradition goes, was concluded on the banks of the Norman's Kill, between the Five Nations and the Dutch. Nothing could surpass the importance the warhke in- habitants of those ancient forests attached to the ratifica- tion of this solemn treaty. Each tribe sent its chief as its ambassador to represent it on this occasion. The neigh- boring tribes — the Lenni Lenape and Mobegans — were in- vited to attend ; and there, in the presence of the earth, their common mother, — of the sun, which shed its genial heat on all alike, — by the murmurs of that romantic stream, whose waters had been made to flow by their common Maker from all time, was the belt of peace held fast by the Dutch and their aboriginal allies, in token of their eternal union. There was the calumet smoked, and the hatchet buried, while the Dutch traders declared that they should forthwith erect a church over that weapon of war, so that it would no more be exhumed without overturning the sacred edifice, and whoever dared do that should incur the resentment of the white man. Ey this treaty the Dutch secured for themselves the quiet possession of the Indian trade, and the Five Nations obtained the means to assert that ascendency which they ever after maintained over the other native tribes, and to inspire terror far and near among the other savages of North America. [Up to 1623 only trading-settlements existed. In that year the actual colonization of the country took place, though a governor was not appointed till two years afterwards. Captain Mey, who took out the settlers, also ascended Delaware Bay and Kiver in 1623, and built Fort Nassau, a few miles below Camden. This fort was soon aban- doned. In 1631 a colony was planted in Delaware, near the present Lewistown, but the settlers were soon murdered by the Indians. The I I O'Callaghan] the settlement OF NEW FORK. 189 Dutch claim now extended from Cape Henlopen to Cape Cod. This claim was disputed by the New-Englanders, who formed settlements in Connecticut and on Long Island. They endeavored, also, to trade with the Hudson Eiver Indians. In 1633 one Jacob Eelkins arrived at New Amsterdam in an English ship called the William. He was ordered to depart by Wouter van T wilier, the Dutch governor.] Aftei" an interval of five days, the factor of the William went again on shore to the fort, to inquire if the director- general would permit him, in a friendly way, to ascend the river, stating at the same time that, if he would not allow it, he [Eelkins] would proceed without his consent, if it should cost him his life. But Van Twiller was immovable. Instead of consenting, he ordered the ship's crew on shore, and, in the presence of all, commanded the Prince of Orange's flag to be run up the fort, and three pieces of ordnance to be fired in honor of his highness. Eelkins, not to be outdone, immediately ordered his gunner to go on board the William, to hoist the English flag, and fire a salute of three guns in honor of the King of England, which was accordingly done. Van Twiller now warned Eelkins to take heed that what he was about did not cost him his neck. Eelkins, however, noway daunted, returned on board with the ship's crew. The anchor was weighed, and the William shortly after sailed up the river, "near to a fort called Orange." Director van Twiller, incensed at this audacit}^, collected all the servants of the company in the fort before his door, ordered a barrel of wine to be broached, and, having taken a bumper, cried out, " Those who love the Prince of Orange and me, emulate me in this, and assist me in repelling the violence committed by that Englishman!" The cask of wine was soon emptied, but the people were noways dis- posed at first to trouble the Englishman. . . . The William having, in the mean while, arrived in the 190 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan neighborhood of Fort Orange, the factor and crew went ashore " about a mile below that fort." set up a tent, and, having landed all their goods, immediately ojiened an ac- tive trade with the natives. It was not long before the news of these proceedings came to the ears of Houten, the commissary at Fort Orange. He forthwith embarked, with a trumpeter, on board a shallop, over which waved some green boughs, and proceeded to where Eelkins was. " By the way the trumpet was sounded, and the Dutchmen drank a bottle of strong waters of three or four pints, and were right merry." The Dutch set up a tent by the side of that of the English ; did as much as thej^ could to dis- parage their cloth and other goods, with a view to hinder the latter's trade ; but the Indians, having been well ac- quainted with Eelkins, who had " heretofore lived four yeares among them," and could speak their language, were a good deal more willing to trade with him than with the others, and he consequently had every prospect of advan- tageously disposing of his merchandise, having been four- teen days there, when a Dutch officer arrived from below, in command of three vessels, a pinnace, a carvel, and a hoy, bearing two letters, protesting against Eelkins, and ordering him to depart forthwith. To enforce these commands came soldiers " from both the Dutch forts, armed with muskets, half-pikes, swords, and other weapons," and, after having beaten several of the Indians who had come to trade with Eelkins, ordered the latter to strike his tent. In vain he pleaded that he was on British soil, and that British subjects had a right to trade there ; the Dutch would not listen to any remon- strances. They pulled his tent about his ears, sent the goods on board, " and, as they were carrying them to the ship, sounded their trumpet in the boat in disgrace of the English." D'Callaghak] the settlement OF NEW YORK. 191 [In this chronicle of the adventures of the first English ship that sailed up the Hudson we have a scene ridiculous enough to find a place in Knickerbocker's " History of New York." The succeeding troubles of the Dutch were with the Swedes and the Indians. In 1640 war began with the neighboring Indians, which continued till terminated by the mediation of the Iroquois, in 1645. In 1G38 the Swedes settled on the Delaware, near the present Wilmington, and gradually extended their settlements until 1655, when they were attacked by the Dutch, and all their forts captured. The Swedes remained, under Dutch gov- ernment. In 1664 the King of England granted to his brother James all the country from the Connecticut to the Delaware, heedless of the claims of the Dutch. A squadron was sent out, and the Dutch were forced to surrender New Amsterdam. Thus, by an act of flagrant in- justice, while England and Holland were at peace, the Dutch domin- ion in North America was overthrown, after half a century of exist- ence. Mr. O'Callaghan gives some brief details of the condition of affairs in New Amsterdam in 1646, which we transcribe.] Slaves constituted, as far back as 1628, a portion of the population. The introduction of this class was facilitated by the establishments which the Dutch possessed in Brazil and on the coast of Gruinea, as well as by the periodical capture of Spanish and Portuguese prizes, and the circum- stances attendant upon the early settlement of the coun- try. The expense of obtaining labor from Europe was great, and the supply by no means equal to the demand. To add to these embarrassments, the temptations held out by the fur-trade were so irresistible that the servants, or " boere-knechts," who were brought over from Hol- land, were soon seduced from the pursuits of agriculture. Farmers were consequently obliged to employ negroes, and slave-labor thus became, by its cheapness and the necessity of the case, one of the staples of the country. The lot of the African imder the Dutch was not as hope- less as his situation might lead us to expect. He was a "chattel," it is true; but he could still look forward to the hour when he too might become a freeman. In the years 192 AMERICAN HISTORY. [O'Callaghan 1G44 and 1646, several negroes and their wives, who had originally been captured from the Spaniards, had been manumitted, in consequence of their long and faithful services. To enable them to provide for their support they obtained a grant of land ; but as the price of their manu- mission they were bound to pay yearly twenty-two bushels and a half of corn, wheat, peas, or beans, and one fat hog valued at eight dollars, failing which, they were to lose their liberty and return again to their former state of ser- vitude. . . . The price of a negro averaged between one hundred and one hundred and fifty dollars. . . . The greater number of the houses around Forts Amster- dam and Orange were, in those days, low-sized wooden buildings, with roofs of reed or straw, and chimneys of wood. Wind- or water-mills were erected, here and there, to grind corn, or to saw lumber. One of the latter, situated on Nut or Governor's Island, was leased in 1639 for five hundred merchantable boards yearly, half oak and half pine. Saw- and grist-mills were built upon several of the creeks in the colon}' of Eensselaerswyck, where "a horse mill" was also erected in 1646. A brewery had been constructed pre- vious to 1637, in the same quarter, by the Patroon, with the exclusive right of supplying retail dealers with beer. But private individuals were allowed the privilege, notwith- standing, to brew whatever quantity of beer they might require for consumption within thetr own families. [These settlements were established under two different systems of government. The "colonics" were governed on a feudal principle, the Patroon, or proprietor, having sovereign authority over his vassals, who swore allegiance to him, and submitted to his special courts, ordinances, and laws. In return he was bound to protect them. The other system was a municipal one, like that of the manors of Hol- land, the qualified electors of cities, villages, and hamlets being em- powered to nominate the magistrates, who needed to be confirmed by the director and council. Through these regulations the democratic A DUTCH INTKRIOK. Stouqhton] the QUAKER COLON V. 193 spirit of Holland was carried over to New Amsterdam, and a republican sentiment of a different type from that of the English colonies was instituted.] THE QUAKER COLONY. JOHN STOUGHTON. [In 1638 a colony of Swedes settled on Christiana Creek, in the present State of Delaware. Governor Kieft, of New Amsterdam, considered this an intrusion on his territory, and, as a check to their aggression, rebuilt the previously abandoned Fort Nassau, below the present Camden. The Swedes gradually extended their settlements, the territory occupied reaching from Cape Henlopen to a point op- posite Trenton. Their governor built a fort and a residence on the island of Tinicum, below Philadelphia. In 1655 the Swedes were attacked by the Dutch, and their forts taken. The most of them con- tinued on their estates, under Dutch authority. The territory of New Jersey was granted in 1664 to Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. Berkeley sold his share in 1674 to John Fenwick, in trust for Edward Byllinge, who subsequently assigned his claim to William Penn and two other Quakers. The province was then divided, Carteret re- ceiving the eastern portion, and the Quaker assignees the western por- tion, on the Delaware. It was in this way that William Penn first became interested in the settlement of America. As two colonies, Massachusetts and Maryland, had already been formed through the desire for religious liberty, it occurred to him to establish a refuge in the New World for the persecuted sect of which he was a member. This was first attempted in West Jersey. A free constitution was given to the settlers, granting important privileges of civil and re- ligious liberty. Quakers were specially recommended to take advan- tage of it, and more than four hundred emigrated to the province in 1677. In 1682, William Penn and eleven others purchased East Jei"sey, so that the whole province then canae under Quaker control. Robert Barclay, author of the " Apology for Quakers," was appointed governor for life. In 1681, Penn obtained from Charles II. a grant of all the lands I.— I n 17 194 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton embraced in the present State of Pennsylvania. His purpose in this was not alone to convert and civilize the Indians, as expressed in the charter, but also to foi-m an asylum for those desirous of civil and religious liberty, in which the principles of Peace, as advocated by his sect, might be efficiently carried out. He soon after obtained a grant of the present State of Delaware, then called " The Territories." In September, 1682, he set sail for his new province, with a large number of emigrants of his own religious belief. Others had preceded him. The story of his landing and his actions in the New World we extract from John Stoughton's "William Penn," from the fact that this writer gives the true story of that celebrated " Treaty with the Indians," concerning which so little is actually known, yet which has been made the basis of so many imaginative statements, full of dramatic interest, yet with very small foundation in fact.] Convenience, thoughts of commerce, the selection of a fitting spot for a great city, the choice of a harbor for the shipping of the world, no doubt mainly determined the site of Philadelphia. But utilit}^ and the picturesque often go together. . . . Whether the commissioners sent out by Penn, who marked the foundation for the noble metropo- lis of their new State, had much care for landscape beauty, I cannot say ; but, at all events, they managed to secure it, even if aiming at far other things. Nearl}^ forty years before, red Indians were haunting the shore about a mile from Fort Nassau, and there some Dutchmen bought land from these wild children of the Avest, and mounted the flag of their country on a tall boundary-mark as a sign of possession. [A quarrel ensued with the neighboring Swedes, who tore down the flag.] Between thirty and forty years afterwards the region remained infested with wolves, and the heads of these animals were brought in to be paid for by the scanty settlers at the rate of fifty-five heads for forty guilders. Stoughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 195 Some acres between " the land of Wiccaco" and " the land of Jurian Hartsfielder" were granted on petition in 1677 to one Peter Rambo, but on the complaint of a neighbor- ing family, who laid claim to it, the grant was cancelled. This became the site of the new city. Penn did not land there. His voyage from England lasted two months, and on its way the Welcome was scourged bj^ the small-pox, which swept off no less than one-third of the hundred passengers who had embarked at Deal. The first point on the American coast which the vessel reached was " the Capes," on the 24th of October, 1682, and on the 28th Penn landed at New-Castle. He was " hailed there with acclamation by the Swedes and Dutch," says one authority, who informs us that the Swedes were living in log cabins and clay huts, the men dressed "in leather breeches, jerkins, and match coats," the women " in skin jackets and linsey petticoats ;" but the old records of New-Castle give a more stately descrip- tion of the arrival. Penn produced two deeds of enfeoff- ment, and John Moll, Esq., and Ephraim Hannan, gentle- man, performed livery of seisin by handing over to him turf and twig, water and soil, and with due formality the act was recorded in a document signed with nine names. The inhabitants of the little settlement afterwards gave a pledge of obedience. . . . After this Penn visited New York, and returned at the end of a month, when he went to a place called Upland, and, turning round to a Quaker friend who had come with him in the Welcome, he said, "Providence has brought us here safe ; thou hast been the companion of ray perils : what wilt thou that I should call this place ?" Pearson said, "Chester," in remembrance of the city whence he came. . . . The Great Law, as it was called, or rather the body of laws, of the province of Pennsylvania, was passed at 196 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stouqhton Chester the 7th of December, 1682 ; and here we have the scheme of legislation devised by the founder. It re- quires attention, as expressing his political views. It lays down the principle of liberty of conscience for the whole province, and it recognizes intolerance as intolera- ble. " If any person shall abuse or deride any other for his or her different persuasion or practice in matter of religion, such shall be looked upon as disturber of the peace, and be punished accordingly." The observance of the Lord's Day is prescribed, but is not enforced by penalties. All government oflScers and servants are to profess belief in the Divinity of Christ ; profaneness and blasphemy are to be punished, and several criminal of- fences are carefully specified. Drinking healths, and sell- ing rum to Indians, come under the same category ; so do stage plays, and other amusements fashionable in the days of Charles II. Days and months are not to be called by heathen names. These are the only peculiar laws; the rest being provisions for trial by jury, for purity of elec- tion, and for strictly legal taxation. [This code bears a close resemblance, in its provisions for religious tolejance, to that previously passed in Maryland, already quoted.] The Assembly which passed the laws of Pennsylvania sat for three days, and after its adjournment Penn paid a visit to Maryland, and had an interview with Lord Balti- more respecting the boundaries of the two provinces. . . . Penn returned to Chester, and thence proceeded to the spot where, in after-time, the capital city of his province was to rise and spread in all its magnificence. His ar- rival is an event of great interest ; but he himself has given no account of it, nor have any of his contempo- raries left a connected description of the circumstances. By piecing together scattered fragments of tradition, how- Stoxjghton] the QUAKER COLONY. 197 ever, something like a full narrative of what occurred may be constructed. He proceeded along the river in an open boat till he reached "a low and sandy beach," at the mouth of what was called the Dock Creek ; on the opposite side of it was a grassy and wet soil, yielding an abundance of whortle- berries ; beyond was the " Society Hill,"' rising up to what is now Pine Street, covered then with wild outgrowths, — the neighborhood containing woods in which rose lofty elms and masses of rich laurels. The margin of the creek here and there produced evergreen shrubs, and near them were wigwams of red Indians, who had settled down for a while as a starting-point for favorite hunting-grounds. When Penn and his companions arrived they found some men busy building a low wooden house, destined, under the name of the Blue Anchor, to be an object of interest and a subject of controversy. These men, and a few European colonists who were scattered about the locality, pressed towards the boat to give a cordial welcome as the Englishmen stepped on shore. If not immediately, we may be sure that soon afterwards the Indians would come forward to gaze on the white men from the other side of the world ; and then would begin those manifestations of kindness towards the children of the forest which made an indelible impression on them, and on others who witnessed the interviews. A lady, who lived to be a hundred, used to speak of the governor as being of "rather short statui-e, but the handsomest, best- looking, lively gentleman she had ever seen." "He en- deared himself to the Indians by his mai'ked condescension and acquiescence in their wishes. He walked with them, sat with them on the ground, and ate with them of their roasted acorns and hominy. At this they expressed their great delight, and soon began to show how they could I. 17* 198 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton hop and jump; at which exhibition, William Penn, to cap the climax, sprang up and beat them all." Probably a little imagination enlivened the old lady's recollections, and she condensed several meetings into one ; but as Penn was at that time under forty, and he had been fond of active sports in earlier days,- the story, on the whole, is quite credible ; and it is curious to find an old journalist leaving on record that the founder of Pennsylvania was " too prone to cheerfulness for a grave public Friend," especially in the eye of those of them who held " religion harsh, intolerant, severe." Blue Anchor Tavern was pulled down years ago, but some archaeological Philadelphians still preserve relics of the old timbers. The city had been planned beforehand, the streets marked, and the names given ; and these being Yine, Wal- nut, Pine, Sassafras, and Cedar, we may believe that such trees abounded in the woods into the midst of which the city ran. The name of Philadelphia was chosen by the founder, its scriptural and historical associations being probably present to his mind ; but the chief object of the choice was a lesson to its inhabitants " touching broth- erly love, upon which he had come to these parts, which he had shown to Dutch, Swedes, Indians, and others alike, and which he wished might forever characterize his new dominions." [The fact stated concerning the founding of Philadelphia is of in- terest, since it seems to be the only city that was planned and definitely laid out by the early settlers of America. The other ancient cities of the country grew as chance willed. The recta ngularitj' of Penn's idea has its advantages, but its disadvantages as well, and some greater degree of chance growth would have been useful. Penn is said to have purchased the land for his city from its Swedish occupants, and to have made with the Indians a treaty, which has attained great celeb- rity, though very little is known about it.] Stuughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 19D The Treaty-Elm locality — the spot where stood the tra- ditionary elm — is known, and is identified by a monument on the spot ; but as to the treaty said to have been ratified there, imagination has had play, for historical information is wanting. Everj'body has seen Benjamin West's picture of the treat}^ between Penn and the Indians, and the artist's fancy has been made the basis of historical description. So unsatisfactory was the state of the question years ago, that the Historical Society of Philadelphia appointed a committee of inquiry. They reported that a treaty did take place, probably in November, 1682 [this date does not agree with that of Penn's first visit to Philadelphia as above given], at Shackamaxon, under an elm-tree blown down in 1810. The treaty was probably made with the Delaware tribes as '• a treaty of amity and friendship," and not for the purchase of territory. The speeches made, the dresses worn, and the surrounding scene, appear now to be altogether fictitious. Materials, however, exist for forming some idea of the manner in which the treaty would be conducted. " I have had occasion," says Penn, "to be in council with them upon treaties for land, and to adjust the terms of trade. Their order is thus : " The king sits in the middle of an half-moon, and has his council, the old and wise, on each hand. Behind them, or at a little distance, sit the younger fry, in the same figure. Having consulted and resolved their business, the king ordered one of them to speak to me. He stood up, came to me, and in the name of his king saluted me, then took me by the hand, and told me that he was ordered by his king to speak to me, and that now it was not he but the king who spoke, because what he should say was the king's mind. He first prayed with mo to excuse them that they had not complied with me the last time. He 200 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton feared there might be some fault in the interpreter, being neither Indian nor English. Besides, it was the Indian custom to deliberate and take up much time in council before they resolved ; and that if the young people and owners of the land had been as ready as he, I had not met with so much delay. Having thus introduced his matter, he fell to the bounds of the land they had agreed to dispose of, and the pi'ice, which now is little and dear; that which would have bought twenty miles not buy- ing now two. During the time that this person spoke, not a man of them was observed to whisper or smile, the old grave, the young reverent, in their deportment. They speak little, but fervently, and with elegance. I have never seen more natural sagacity, considering them with- out the help (I was going to say the spoil) of tradition ; and he will deserve the name of wise who outwits them in 2inj treaty about a thing they understand. When the purchase was agreed, great promises passed between us of kindness and good neighborhood, and that the English and Indians must live in love as long as the sun gave light ; which done, another made a speech to the Indians in the name of all the sachamakers or kings ; first, to tell them what was done ; next, to charge and command them to love the Christians, and particularly to live in peace with me and the people under my government ; that many governors had been in the river, but that no gov- ernor had come himself to live and stay there before ; and having now such an one, who had treated them well, they should never do him or his any wrong ; at every sentence of which they shouted, and said Amen in their way." [It is stated that by the terras of one of Penn's treaties of land- purchase with the Indians, the land granted was to extend as far back Stoughton] the QUAKER COLONY. 201 as a man could walk in three days. Penn and some of his friends, and a numher of Indian chiefs, started to measure this territory, and walked leisurely up the Delaware from the mouth of the JSTeshaminy for a day and a half, and then stopped, concluding that that was suffi- cient for the present, and that the remainder might be measured when needed. In 1733 the then Governor of Pennsylvania undertook to measure the remainder. He employed a walker noted for his speed, who succeeded in covering eighty-six miles in his day and a half. This shrewd and rascally trick caused the first breach in the confidence of the Indians, and it is significant that the first murder of a white man by an Indian in Pennsylvania was upon the ground of which •.hey had been thus robbed.] When Penn had enjoyed possession of his territory a little while, he wrote an account of it to the " Free Society of Traders of Pennsylvania," and in it he manifests a power of graj)hic description really admirable. It brings the whole country vividly before our eyes ; the land, " the best vales of England watered by brooks ; the air, sweet ; the heavens, serene like the south of France ; the seasons, mild and temperate ; vegetable productions abundant, chestnut, wal- nut, plums, muscatel grapes, wheat and other grain ; a variety of animals, elk, deer, squirrel, and turkeys weighing forty or fifty pounds, water-birds and fish of divers kinds, no want of horses ; and flowers lovely for color, greatness, figure, and variety." . . . " Philadelphia, the expectation of those who are concerned in this province, is at last laid out, to the great content of those here who are any way interested therein. The situation is a neck of land, and lieth between two navigable rivers, Delaware and Sculkill, whereby it hath two fronts upon the water, each a mile ; and two from river to river. Delaware is a glorious river ; but the Sculkill, being a hundred miles boatable above the falls, and its course northwest toward the fountain of Susquehanna (that tends to the heart of the province, and both sides our own), it is like to be a 202 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stoughton great part of the settlement of this age. I say little of the town itself, because a platform will soon be shown you by my agent, in which those who are purchasers of me will find their names and interests. But this I will say, for the good providence of God, of all the places I have seen in the world, I remember not one better seated ; so that it seems to me to have been appointed for a town, whether we regard the rivers, or the convenienc}'^ of the coves, docks, and springs, the loftiness and soundness of the land, and the air, held by the people of these parts to be very good. It is advanced within less than a year to about fourscore houses and cottages, such as they are, where merchants and handicrafts are following their vocations as fast as they can ; while the countrj-men are close at their farms." [Within two years of his arrival the infant city contained three hundred houses, and the population was reckoned at two thousand five hundred. Penn returned to England in 1G84. There he met with misfortunes, and in 1692 his proprietary right was taken from him ; but it was restored in 1694. In 1699 he again visited America. He found the people dissatisfied, and demanding further concessions and privileges. He framed a new charter, more liberal than the former. The city now contained seven hundred houses, and was very pros- perous. He returned to England in 1701, after having made new treaties with the Indians and done all in his power to settle the atfaii-s of his province. He died in 1718, leaving his interest in Pennsylvania to his sons. It continued in the family until the Eevolution, when the claims of the Proprietors were purchased by the commonwealth for a value of about five hundred and eighty thousand dollars.] THE OLDEST HOUSE IN GERMANTOWN. Williamson] THE " GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 203 THE "GRAND MODEL" GOVERNMENT. HUGH WILLIAMSON. [The settlement of the three southern colonies of the United States may be dealt with briefly, as it was attended with no events of special importance. Of these colonies Georgia was not settled until 1732. The consideration of it, therefore, properly belongs to the succeeding sec- tion of this work. The provinces of North and South Carolina origi- nally constituted but one. We have already described the early ef- forts to colonize this region, those of Kibaut at Port Royal and of Raleigh on Roanoke Island. About 1630, Sir Robert Heath was granted a tract embracing the Carolinas, but no settlements were made under the grant. The earliest emigrants came from Virginia about 1650. In 1663 the province of Carolina was granted to Lord Claren- don and seven others. The charter secured religious freedom and a voice in legislation to the people, but retained the main power and privilege in the hands of the proprietaries. In 1660 or 1661 a party of New-Englanders settled on Cape Fear River near Wilmington. The settlement was soon abandoned, on account of Indian hostilities, but a permanent colony was established in the same locality in 1665, by a party of planters from Barbadoes. The charter of the proprietaries embraced the whole region from Virginia to Florida, and in 1670 a colony was planted on the Ashley River, in the South Carolina region, which was known as the Carteret County Colony, on the site of Old Charleston. Slaves from Barba- does were soon introduced, Dutch settlers came from New Netherland, then recently taken by the English, and afterwards from Holland, a colony of Huguenot refugees from France was sent out by the King of England, and the new settlement prospered. In 1680 the city of Charleston was founded, and was at once declared the capital of the province. The growth of the settlements in North Carolina was less rapid, many of the colonists removing south, while domestic dissea- sions retarded prosperity. The most interesting feature attending the colonization of the prov- ince of Carolina, however, was the remarkable system of government devised, at the request of the proprietaries* by the celebrated English philosopher John Locke. Made in the retirement of his study, and based upon conditions of society utterly unlike those of the thinly- 204 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williamson settled wilderness of America, Locke's scheme was absurdly unsuited to the purpose designed, while its autocratic character was entirely out of accordance with the democratic sentiments of the settlers. As a strenuous effort, however, was made to carry out the provisions of this magnificently-absurd " Grand Model" of government, we may give its leading features, as epitomized by Hugh Williamson in his " History of North Carolina."] As it was to be expected that a great and fertile province would become the residence of a numerous and powerful body of people, the lords proprietors thought fit in the infant state of these colonies to establish a permanent form of government. Their object, as they expressed them- selves, was " to make the government of Carolina agree, as nearly as possible, to the monarchy of which it was a part, and to avoid ei'ecting a numerous democracy." Lord Ashley, one of the pi'oprietors, who was afterwards created Earl of Shaftesbury, a man of fine talents, was requested by the proprietors to prepare a form of government ; but he availed himself of the abilities of John Locke, the cele- brated philosopher and metaphysician, who drew up a plan, consisting of one hundred and twenty articles or fundamen- tal constitutions, of which the following are the outlines : Carolina shall be divided into counties. Each county shall consist of eight signiories, eight baronies, and four precincts. Each precinct shall consist of six colonies. Each signiory, barony, or colony shall consist of twelve thousand acres. The signiories shall be annexed unaliena- bly to the proprietors ; the baronies, to the nobility ; and the precincts, being three-fifths of the whole, shall remain to the people. . . . There shall be two orders of nobility, chosen bj'' the pro- jjrietors, — viz., landgraJk^es and casiques. There shall be as many landgraves as counties, and twice as many casiques. Williamson] THE " GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 205 Each landgrave shall hold four baronies, and each casique two baronies. [From the year 1701 the proprietaries and nobility were to be in- alienably hereditary.] There ma}^ be manors, to consist of not less than three thousand acres or more than twelve thousand in one tract or colony. The lord of every signiory, baronj', or manor shall have the power of holding court leet, for trying causes civil or criminal, with appeal to the precinct or county court. No leet man shall remove from the land of his lord without permission. There shall be eight supreme courts. The oldest pro- prietor shall be palatine ; and each of the other proprie- tors shall hold a great office, — viz., the several offices of chancellor, chief justice, constable, admiral, treasurer, high steward, and chamberlain. [The formation of the courts of the proprietors is here laid down, and the various officers are designated.] Of the forty-two counsellors, in the several courts, the greater number shall be chosen out of the nobles or the sons of proprietors or nobles. There shall be a grand council, which is to consist of the palatine, the other seven proprietors, and the forty-two counsellors from the courts of the several proprietors. They shall have the power of making war and peace, etc. [The formation of the minor courts is then designated.] No cause of any freeman, civil or criminal, shall be tried in any court, except by a jury of his peers. Juries are to consist of twelve men, of whom it shall be sufficient that a majoi"ity are agreed. I. 18 206 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Williamson It shall be a base and infamous thing, in any court, to plead for money or reward. The parliament shall meet once every two years. It shall consist of all the proprieto.rs or their deputies, the land- graves, the casiques, and one commoner from each precinct, chosen by the freeholders in their respective precincts. These four estates shall sit in one room, each man having one vote. . . . No matter shall be proposed in parhament that had not previously been prepared and passed by the grand council. No act shall continue in force longer than to the next biennial meeting of parliament, unless in the mean time it shall have been ratified by the palatine and a quorum of the proprietors. While a bill is on its passage before the parliament, any proprietor or his deputy may enter his protest against it, as being contrary to any of the fundamental constitutions of government. In which case, after debate, the four orders shall retire to four separate chambers ; and if a majority of either of the four estates determines against the bill, it shall not pass. . , . The Church of England being deemed the only true orthodox church, no provision shall be made by parliament for any other church. . . . No man, above the age of seventeen years, shall have any benefit of the laws, whose name is not recorded as a member of some church or religious profession. These fundamental and unalterable constitutions were signed by the lords pr*oprietors the first of March, 1669. It would be difficult to account for some of the articles that are contained in this plan of government, except by re- curring to the old adage that respects Scylla and Charybdis. The proprietors, or some of them, had lately smarted under a government that was called republican. They Williamson] THE ''GRAND MODEL'' GOVERNMENT. 207 were zealous royalists ; and they expected, by the help of a powerful aristocracy, to obviate the return of republican measures ; but we are sorry to find among the works of John Locke, who was an advocate for civil and religious liberty, a plan of government that in some articles does not consist with either. It will readily be perceived that a government to be ad- ministered b}" nobles was not well adapted to a country in which there was not one nobleman. . . . The lords pro- prietors, in the mean time, resolved to come as near to the great model as possible. For this purpose, Governor Stevens of Albemarle and Sayle of Carteret were instructed to issue writs requiring the freeholders to elect five persons, who, with five others to be chosen by the proprietors, were to form a grand council for the governor. The parliament was to be composed of this great council and twenty delegates, who were also to be chosen by the freemen. In the mean time the proprietors made tem- porary laws for the preservation of good order in the several colonies, — laws that were little respected by men who had not been consulted in forming them. [Locke's governmental scheme never took root in Carolina. It was a government of theory, not the result of a natural growth, as all persistent government must be, and was utterly unsuited to the condi- tions of a thinlj'^-settled colony inhabiting a wilderness and composed of persons little disposed to submit to regulations more aristocratic than those from which they had emigrated. The plain and simple laws under which the colonists had previously lived were suited to their circumstances, while the "great model," with its nobles, pala- tines, and other grand officers, was in ridiculous contrast with the actually existing condition of sparse population, rude cabins, and pioneer habits. A strong effort was made to establish it, but the people effectually resisted, and, after twenty yeai-s of contest, Locke's constitution, which had simply kept the country in a state of discord, was voluntarily abrogated by the proprietaries.] 208 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. LE PAGE DU PRATZ. [One more colony whose settlement was effected in the seventeenth century here demands attention, — that of Louisiana. After the death of De Soto on the Mississippi, in 1642, that great river was not visited by the whites until more than a century had elapsed. It was next reached, in its upper courses, by Jesuit missionaries from Canada, whose efforts to convert the heathen made them among the most daring and persistent explorers of the interior of America. As early as 1634 they penetrated the wilderness to Lake Huron, and established missions among the savages of that region. Failing in similar efforts to convert the Iroquois, they pushed farther west, and in 1665 Father AUouez reached Lake Superior, and landed at the great village of the Chippewas. Learning from the Indians of the existence of a great river to the westward, called by them the Mes-cha-ce-be, or " Father of Waters," two missionaries, Marquette and Joliet, set out from Green Bay to make its discovery, under the illusory hope that it might furnish the long-sought water-way to China. They reached the strea.m on June 17, 1673, and floated down it as far as the mouth of the Arkansas, where they found the natives in possession of Euro- pean articles, and became convinced that the river must flow into the Gulf of Mexico. The Mississippi was again reached, in 1680, by Father Hennepin, the advance pioneer of the exploring party under La Salle, who had set out to investigate thoroughly the great river. Hennepin ascended the stream to beyond the Falls of St. Anthony, where he was held captive for a while by the Sioux Indians. La Salle did not reach the Mississippi until two years afterwards, when he embarked on its mighty flood, and floated down it until its mouth was reached and the adventurers found themselves on the broad surface of the Gulf of Mexico. To the territories through which he passed he gave the name of Louisiana, in honor of Louis XIY. of France. In 1684 he sailed from France, with a party of settlei-s, for the mouth of the Mississippi, which, however, he failed to find, landing his colonists at the head of Matagorda Bay, in Texas. La Salle was afterwards murdered while journeying overland to the Illinois, and the Matagorda Bay settlement was broken up by Indian hostility. DuJ'RATz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 209 In Upper Louisiana a Jesuit mission was established in 1G85 at Kaskaskia, the first permanent colony in the Mississippi region. In 1698, Lemoine d'Iberville, a French officer, obtained a patent for planting a colony in the southern part of the territory. He succeeded in finding the mouth of the Mississippi, and was the first to enter that stream from the sea. He sailed up it as far as the mouth of the Ked Kiver, and, returning, erected a fort at the head of the Bay of Biloxi. It proved an unhealthy station, and in 1701 he removed the colonists to the western bank of the Mobile Eiver, thus founding the first Euro- pean settlement in Alabama. The colonizing of southern Louisiana proved a slow process. At successive periods colonists arrived there, but no permanency was attained until 1718, when John Law, the promoter of the notorious " Mississippi Company," sent out eight hundred emigrants. Some of these settled on the Bay of Biloxi, some on the site of New Orleans. With this party was Du Pratz, the historian of the colony. The subsequent disastrous failure of the Mis- sissippi Company did not break up the colony, though the scattered settlements found themselves environed with many difficulties, chief among which were troubles with hostile Indians. These difficulties were principally with the Natchez, who massacred a Trench settle- ment and were in turn totally destroyed, and with the Chickasaws, who held their own valiantly against the French, after a war of several years' duration. We append, from Du Pratz's " History of Louisi- ana," his curiously-interesting story of the war with the Natchez, a tribe which was in several respects the most remarkable among the Indians of the region of the United States. We have already, in our article on the Aborigines of America, described its principal peculi- arities.] In the beginning of the month of December, 1729, we heard at New Orleans, with the most affecting grief, of the massacre of the French at the post of the Natchez, occasioned by the imprudent conduct of the commandant. I shall trace that whole affair from its rise. The Sieur de Chopart had been commandant of the post of the Natchez, from which he was removed on account of some acts of injustice. M. Perier, commandant-gen- ex-al, but lately arrived, suffered himself to be prepossessed i.—o 18* 210 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz in his favor, on his telling him that he had commanded that post with applause ; and thus he obtained the com- mand from M. Perier, who was unacquainted with his character. This new commandant, on taking possession of his post, projected the forming one of the most eminent settlements of the whole colony. For this purpose he examined all the grounds unoccupied by the French, but could not find anything that came up to the grandeur of his views. Nothing but the village of the White Apple, a square league at least in extent, could give him satisfaction ; where he immediately resolved to settle. This ground was distant from the fort about two leagues. Conceited with the beauty of his project, the commandant sent for the Sun of that village to come to the fort. The commandant, upon his arrival at the fort, told him, without further ceremony, that he must look out for an- other ground to build his village on, as he himself resolved, as soon as possible, to build on the village of the Apple ; that he must directly clear the huts and retire somewhere else. The better to cover his design, he gave out that it was necessary for the French to settle on the banks of the rivulet where stood the Great Village and the abode of the Grand Sun. The commandant, doubtless, supposed that he was speaking to a slave whom we may command in a tone of absolute authority. But he knew not that the natives of Louisiana are such enemies to a state of slavery that they prefer death itself thereto; above all, the Suns, accustomed to govern despotically, have still a greater aversion to it. The Sun of the Apple thought that if he was talked to in a reasonable manner he might listen to him ; in this he had been right, had he to deal with a reasonable person. He therefore made answer that his ancestors had lived in Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 211 that village for as many years as there were hairs in his double cue, and therefore it was good they should continue there still. Scarce had the interpreter explained this answer to the commandant, but he fell into a passion, and threatened the Sun if he did not quit his village in a few days he might repent it. The Sun replied, when the French came to ask us for lands to settle on, they told us there was land enough still unoccupied, which they might take ; the same sun would enlighten them all, and all would walk in the same path. He wanted to proceed further in justification of what he alleged ; but the commandant, who was in a passion, told him he was resolved to be obeyed, without any further reply. The Sun, without discovering any emotion or passion, withdrew, only saying he was going to assemble the old men of his village, to hold a council on this affair. [At this council it was resolved to represent to the French that the corn was just out of the ground and the chickens were laying their eggs, and to ask for delay. This the commandant rejected, with a threat to chastise them if they did not obey quickly. It was next proposed that each hut in the village would pay him a basket of corn and a fowl for the privilege of remaining till the harvest had been gathered. To this the avaricious commandant agreed. But the Sun had other objects in view. Meetings of the old men of the village were held, at which it was resolved to destroy the insolent intruders who had treated them like slaves and soon would deprive them of all their liberty. It was proposed to cut oiF the French to a man, in a single hour. The oldest chief advised that, on the day fixed for the contribution, the warriors should carry some corn to the commandant, as an instalment on their payment. He further advised them] "also to carry with them their arms, as if going out to hunt, and that to every Frenchman in a French house there shall be two or three Natchez ; to ask to borrow arms and ammunition for a general hunting-match on account of 212 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz a great feast, and to promise to bring them meat ; the report of the firing at the commandant's to be the signal to fall at once upon and kill the French ; that then we shall be able to prevent those who may come from the old French village (New Orleans) by the great water (Mississippi) ever to settle here." He added that, after apprising the other nations of the necessity of taking that violent step, a bundle of rods in number equal to that they should reserve for themselves should be left with each nation, expressive of the number of days that were to precede that on which they were to strike the blow at one and the same time. And to avoid mistakes, and to be exact in pulhng out a rod every day and breaking and throwing it away, it was necessary to give this in charge to a person of prudence. Hei'e he ceased, and sat down. They all approved his counsel, and were to a man of his mind. The project was in like manner approved of by the Sun of the Apple; the business was to bring over the Grand Sun, with the other petty Suns, to their opinion; because, all the princes being agreed as to that point, the nation would all to a man implicitly obey. They, however, took the precaution to forbid ajjprising the women thereof, not excepting the female Suns (princesses), or giving them the least suspicion of their designs against the French. [Within a short time the Grand Sun, the Stung Serpent, his uncle, and all the Suns and aged nobles, were brought into the scheme. It was kept secret from the people, and none but the female Suns had a right to demand the object of these many meetings. The grand female Sun was a princess scarce eighteen, but the Stung Arm, mother of the Grand Sun, a woman of experience, and well disposed towards the French, induced her son to tell her of the scheme which had been devised. He also told her that the bundle of rods lay in the temple.] The Stung Arm, being informed of the whole design, Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 213 pretended to approve of it, and, leaving her son at ease, henceforward was only solicitous how she might defeat this barbarous design : the time was pressing, and the term pre- fixed for the execution was almost expired. [She vainly attempted to convey a warning to the commandant. The hints of danger she sent him by soldiers were blindly ignored.] The Stung Arm, fearing a discovery, notwithstanding her utmost precaution and the secrecy she enjoined, re- paired to the temple and pulled some rods out of the fatal bundle ; her design w^as to hasten or forward the term jH'e- fixed, to the end that such Frenchmen as escaped the massacre might apprise their countrj-men, many of whom had informed the commandant, who clapt seven of them in iron.s, treating them as cowards on that account. . . . Notwithstanding all these informations, the commandant went out the night before [the fatal day] on a party of pleasure, with some other Frenchmen, to the grand village of the Natchez, without returning to the fort till break of day ; where he was no sooner come, but he had pressing advice to be upon his guard. The commandant, still flustered with his last night's debauch, added imprudence to his neglect of these last advices, and ordered his interpreter instantly to repair to the grand village and demand of the Grand Sun whether he intended, at the head of his warriors, to come and kill the French, and to bring him word directly. The Grand Sun, though but a young man, knew how to dissemble, and spoke in such a manner to the interpreter as to give full satisfaction to the commandant, who valued himself on his contempt of former advices : he then repaired to his house, situate below the fort. The Natchez had too well taken their measures to be disappointed in the success thei'eof. The fatal moment 214 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz was at last come. The Natchez set out on the eve of St. Andrew, 1729, taking care to bring with them one of the lower sort, armed with a wooden hatchet, in order to knock down the commandant : they had so high a con- tempt for him that no warrior would deign to kill him. The houses of the French filled with enemies, the fort in like manner with the natives, who entered in at the gate and breaches, deprived the soldiers, without officers or even a sergeant at their head, of the means of self-defence. In the mean time the Grand Sun arrived, with some warriors loaded with corn, in appearance as the first payment of the contribution; when several shots were heard. As this fii'ing was the signal, several shots were heard at the same instant. Then at length the commandant saw, but too late, his foUy : he ran into the garden, whither he was pursued and killed. The massacre was executed every- where at the same time. Of about seven hundred per- sons, but few escaped to carry the dreadful news to the capital ; on receiving which the governor and council were sensibly affected, and orders were despatched everj^ where to put people on their guard. The other Indians were displeased at the conduct of the !N"atchez, imagining they had forwarded the term agreed on, in order to make them ridiculous, and proposed to take vengeance the first opportunity, not knowing the true cause of the precipitation of the Natchez. After they had cleared the fort, warehouse, and other houses, the Natchez set them all on fire, not leaving a single building standing. [Steps were immediately taken by the French to revenge themselves upon their enemies. A force, partly made up of Choctaw allies, as- sailed the fort of the Natchez, who offered to release the French women and children prisoners if peace was promised them. This was agreed to, and the Natchez took advantage of the opportunity to vacate the Du Pratz] LOUISIANA AND THE NATCHEZ. 215 fort by stealth, under cover of night, with all their baggage and plun- der, leaving only the cannon and ball behind. They took refuge in a secret place to the west of the Mississippi, which proved ditBcult to discover. As soon as the place of concealment was found, the French set out to chastise the murderei-s.] The Messrs. Perier set out with their army in very favorable weather, and arrived at last, without obstruc- tion, near to the retreat of the Natchez. To get to that place, they went up the Red River, then the Black River, and from thence up the Silver Creek, which communicates with a small lake at no great distance from the fort which the Natchez had built in order to maintain their ground against the French. The Natchez, struck with terror at the sight of a vigi- lant enemy, shut themselves up in their fort. Despair assumed the place of prudence, and they were at their wits' end on seeing the trenches gain ground on the fort : they equip themselves like warriors, and stain their bodies with different colors, in order to make their last efforts by a sally which resembled a transport of rage more than the calmness of valor, to the terror, at first, of the soldiers. The reception they met from our men taught them, however, to keep themselves shut up in their fort ; and though the trench was almost finished, our generals were impatient to have the mortars put in a condition to play on the place. At last they are set in battery; when the third bomb happened to fall in the middle of the fort, the usual place of residence of the women and children, they set up a horrible screaming ; and the men, seized with grief at the cries of their wives and children, made the signal to capitulate. The Natchez, after demanding to capitulate, started dif- ficulties, which occasioned messages to and fro till night, which they wanted to avail themselves of, demanding till 216 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Du Pratz next day to settle the articles of capitulation. The night was granted them, but, being narrowly watched on the side next the gate, they could not execute the same pro- ject of escape as in the war with M. de Loubois. How- ever, they attempted it, by taking advantage of the ob- scurity of the night, and of the apparent stillness of the French ; but they were discovered in time, the greatest part being constrained to retire into the fort. Some of them only happened to escape, who joined those that were out a-hunting, and all together retired to the Chickasaws. The rest surrendered at discretion, among whom were the Grand Sun, and the female Suns, with several warriors, many women, young people, and children. The French army re-embarked, and carried the Natchez as slaves to New Orleans, where they were put in prison ; but afterwards, to avoid an infection, the women and chil- dren were disposed of in the king's plantation, and else- where ; among these women was the female Sun called the Stung Arm, who then told me all she had doiie in order to save the French. Some time after, these slaves were embarked for St. Domingo, in order to root out that nation in the colony ; which was the only method of effecting it, as the few that escaped had not a tenth of the women necessary to recruit the nation. And thus that nation, the most con- spicuous in the colony, and most useful to the French, was destroyed. Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 217 SECTION IV. PEOGRESS OF THE COLONIES. THE PERSECUTION OF THE QUAKERS. JAMES GRAHAME. [The history of Massachusetts during the h\tter half of the seven teenth century presents several occurrences of particular interest, such as the Quaker persecution, King Philip's Indian war, and the witch- craft delusion. The first of these now calls for attention. "We may premise with a brief statement of preceding events. One of these was an eflfort in England to prevent Puritan emigration, which is said to have had the effect to retain John Hampden and Oliver Cromwell in that country. If so, the king in this committed an error which in the end proved fatal to himself. In 1638, John Harvard, a ministei of Charlestown, left something over three thousand dollars in support of a school previously founded by the colony. This was the origin of Harvard College. In 1643 the four colonies of Plymouth, Massachu setts, Connecticut, and New Hampshire formed a confederacy, under the title of The United Colonies of New England. Ehodp Island was, at a later date, refused admission into the confederacy which continued in existence for over forty years. Each colony was to contribute men and money to the common defence, while two com- missioners from each colony formed an annual assembly for tho settlement of all questions relating to the confederacy. The religious dissensions which had formerly agitated the colony were renewed by the emigration of persons of other sectarian views, Y?ho were little disposed to submit to the intolerance of the Puritan churches and tribunals. In 1651 a party of Anabaptists reached Mas- sachusetts. The doctrines they advocated raised a storm of opposition in the colony ; they were arrested, tried, fined, and one of them severely I.— K 19 218 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahamk flogged, and a law was passed banishing from the colony any one who should oppose the dogma of infant baptism. The treatment received by the Quakers was of sufficient severity and importance to demand special consideration, and we therefore select a description of it from James Grahame's " History of the United States."] The treatment which the Quakers experienced in Mas- sachusetts was much more severe [than that of the Ana- baptists], but certainly much more justly provolvcd. It is difficult for us in the calm and rational deportment of the Quakers of the present age to recognize the successors of those wild enthusiasts who first appeared in the north of England about the year 1644 and received from the derision of the world the title which the}" afterwards adopted as their sectarian denomination. . . . When the doctrines of Quakerism were first promulgated, the efi'ects which they produced on many of their votaries far ex- ceeded the influence to which modern history restricts them, or which the experience of a rational and calcu- lating age finds it easy to conceive. In England, at that time, the minds of men were in a state of feverish agita- tion and excitement, inflamed with the rage of innovation, strongly imbued with religious sentiment, and yet stronglj- averse to restraint. The bands that so long repressed liberty of speech being suddenly broken, many crude thoughts were eagerly broached, and many fantastic notions that had been vegetating in the unwholesome shade of locked bosoms were abruptly brought to light ; and all these were presented to the souls of men roused and whetted by civil war, kindled by great alarms or by vast and indeterminate designs, and latterly so accustomed to partake or contemplate the most surprising changes, that with them the distinction between speculation and certainty was considerably eff'aced. . . . It was the wildest and most enthusiastic visionaries of Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 219 the age whom Quakerism counted among its earliest vota- ries, and to whom it afforded a sanction and stimulus to the boldest excursions of unregulated thought, and a principle that was adduced to consecrate the rankest absurdity of conduct. . . . The unfavorable impression which these actions created long survived the extinction of the frenzy and folly that produced them. "While, in pursuance of their determination to prosely- tize the Avhole world, some of the Quakers travelled to Eome, in order to illuminate the Pope, and others to Con- stantinople, for the purpose of converting the Grand Turk, a party of them embarked for America and established themselves in Rhode Island, where persons of every re- ligious (Protestant) denomination were permitted to settle in peace, and no one gave heed to the sentiments or prac- tices of his neighbors. From hence they soon made their way into the Plymouth territory, where they succeeded in persuading some of its inhabitants to embrace the doc- trine that a sensible experience of inward light and spirit- ual impression was the meaning and end of Christianity and the essential characteristic of its votaries, and to op- pose all regulated order, forms, and discipline, whether civil or ecclesiastical, as a vain and Judaizing substitution of the kingdom of the flesh for the kingdom of the spirit. On their first appearance in Massachusetts (July, 1656), where two male and six female Quakers arrived from Rhode Island and Barbadoes, they found that the reproach entailed on their sect by the insane extravagance of some of its members in England had preceded their arrival, and that they were regarded with the utmost terror and dis- like by the great bulk of the people. They were instantly arrested by the magistrates, and diligently examined for what were considered bodily marks of witchcraft. No such indications having been found, they were sent back 220 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame to the places whence they came, by the same vessels that had brought them, and prohibited with threats of severe punishment from ever again returning to the colony. A law was JDassed at the same time, subjecting every ship- master importing Quakers or Quaker writings to a heavy fine; adjudging all Quakers who should intrude into the colony to stripes and labor in the house of correction, and all defenders of their tenets to fine, imprisonment, oi exile. . . . The penal enactments resorted to by the other settle- ments [than Ehode Island] served only to inflame the impatience of the Quaker zealots to carry their ministry into places that seemed to them to stand so greatl}^ in need of it ; and the persons who had been disappointed in their first attempt returned almost immediately to Massa- chusetts, and, dispersing themselves through the colony, began to proclaim their mystical notions, and succeeded in communicating them to some of the inhabitants of Salem. They were soon joined by Mar}^ Clarke, the wife of a tailor in London, who announced that she had forsaken her husband and six children in order to convey a message from heaven, which she was commissioned to deliver to New England. Instead of joining with the provincial missionaries in attempts to reclaim the neighboring sav- ages from their barbarous superstition and profligate im- moralities, or themselves prosecuting separate missions with a like intent, the apostles of Quakerism raised their voices in vilification of everything that w^as most highly approved and revered in the doctrine and practice of the provincial churches. Seized, imjjrisoned, and flogged, they were again dismissed with severer threats from the colony, and again they returned by the first vessels they could procure. The government and a great majority of the colonists were incensed at their stubborn pertinacity, and Grahame] the persecution OF THE QUAKERS. 221 shocked at the impression which they had ah-eady pro- duced on some minds, and which threatened to corrupt and subvert a system of piety whose establishment, fru- ition, and perpetuation supplied their fondest recollections, their noblest enjoyment, and most energetic desire. New punishments were introduced into the legislative enact- ments against the intrusion of Quakers and the profession of Quakerism (1657); and in particular the abscission of an ear was added to the former ineffectual severities. Three male Quaker preachers endured the rigor of this cruel law. But all the exertions of the provincial authorities proved unavailing, and seemed rather to stimulate the zeal of the obnoxious sectaries to brave the danger and court the glory of persecution (1658). Swarms of Quakers descended upon the colony ; and, violent and impetuous in provoking persecution, calm, resolute, and inflexible in sustaining it, they opposed their power of enduring cruelty to their adversaries' power of inflicting it, and not only multiplied their converts, but excited a considerable degree of favor and pity in the minds of men who, detesting the Quaker tenets, yet derived from their own experience a peculiar sympathy with the virtues of heroic patience, constancy, and contempt of danger. ... It was by no slight provo- cations that the Quakers attracted these and additional severities upon themselves. ... In public assemblies and in crowded streets, it was the practice of some of the Quakers to denounce the most tremendous manifestations of divine wrath on the people, unless they forsook their carnal system. One of them, named Faubord, conceiving that he experienced a celestial encouragement to rival the faith and imitate the sacrifice of Abraham, was proceed- ing with his own hands to shed the blood of his son, when his neighbors, alarmed by the cries of the lad, broke into I. 19* 222 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame the house and prevented the consummation of this blas- phemous atrocity. Others interrupted divine service in the churches by loudly protesting that these were not the sacrifices that God would accept ; and one of them il- lustrated his assurance by breaking two bottles in the face of the congregation, exclaiming, " Thus will the Lord break you in pieces !" They declared that the Scriptures were replete with allegory, that the inward light was the only infallible guide to religious truth, and that all were blind beasts and liars Avho denied it. The female preachers far exceeded their male associates in folly, frenzy, and indecency. One of them presented herself to a congregation with her face begrimed with coal-dust, announcing it as a pictorial illustration of the black pox, which Heaven had commissioned her to predict as an approaching judgment on all carnal worshippers. Some of them in rueful attire perambulated the streets, proclaiming the speedy arrival of an angel with a drawn sword to plead with the people ; and some attempted feats that may seem to verify the legend of Godiva of Coventry. One woman, in particular, entered stark naked into a church in the middle of divine service, and desired the people to take heed to her as a sign of the times, and an emblem of the unclothed state of their own souls ; and her associates highly extolled her submission to the inward light, that had revealed to her the duty of illustrating the spiritual nakedness of her neighbors by the indecent ex- hibition of her own person. Another Quakeress was ar- rested as she was making a similar display in the streets of Salem. The horror justly inspired by these insane enormities was inflamed into the most vehement indigna- tion by the deliberate manner in which they were defended, and the disgusting profanity with which Scripture was linked in impure association with notions and behavior at Gbahame] the persecution OF THE qUAKERS. 223 once ridiculous and contemptible. Among other singulari- ties, the Quakers exemplified and inculcated the forbeai'- ance of even the slightest demonstration of respect to courts and magistrates ; they declared that governors, judges, lawyers, and constables were trees that cu.mbered the ground, and presently must be cut down, in order that the true light might have leave to shine and space to rule alone ; and they freely indulged every sally of distempered fancy which they could connect, however absurdly, with the language of the Bible. . . . It has been asserted b}^ some of the modern apologists of the Quakers that these frantic excesses, which excited so much attention and produced such tragical consequences, were committed, not by genuine Quakers, but by the Rant- ers, or wild separatists from the Quaker body. Of these Eanters, indeed, a very large proportion certainly betook themselves to America. ... It is certain, however, that the persons whose conduct we have particularized assumed the name of Quakers, and traced all their absurdities to the peculiar Quaker principle of searching their own bosoms for sensible admonitions of the Holy Spirit, inde- pendent of the scriptural revelation of divine will. And many scandalous outrages were committed by persons whose profession of Quaker principles was recognized by the Quaker body, and whose sufferings are related, and their frenzy applauded, by the pens of Quaker writers. Exasperated by the repetition of these enormities, and the extent to which the contagion of their radical princi- ple was spreading in the colony, the magistrates of Mas- sachusetts, in the close of this year (1658), introduced into the Assembly a law denouncing the punishment of death upon all Quakers returning from banishment. This legislative proposition was opposed by a considerable party of the colonists ; and various individuals, who 224 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahami. would have hazarded their own lives to extirpate the heresy of the Quakers, solemnly protested against the cruelty and iniquity of shedding their blood. It was at first rejected by the Assembly, but finally adopted by the narrow majority of a single voice. In the course of the two following years (1659, 1660) this barbarous law was carried into execution on three separate occasions, — when four Quakers, three men and a woman, were put to death at Boston. It does not appear that any of these unfor- tunate persons were guilty of the outrages which the conduct of their brethren in general had associated with the profession of Quakerism. Oppressed by the preju- dice created by the frantic conduct of others, they were adjudged to die for returning from banishment and con- tinuing to preach the Quaker doctrines. In vain the court entreated them to accept a pardon on condition of abandoning forever the colony from which they had been repeatedly banished. They answered by reciting the heavenly call to continue there, which on various occa- sions, they affirmed, had sounded in their ears, in the fields and in their dwellings, distinctly syllabling their names and whispering their prophetic office and the scene of its exercise. When they were conducted to the scaf- fold, their demeanor expressed unquenchable zeal and courage, and their dying declarations breathed in general a warm and affecting piety. These executions excited much clamor against the gov- ernment ; many persons were offended by the exhibition of severities against which the establishment of the colony itself seemed intended to bear a perpetual testimony ; and many were touched with an indignant compassion for the sufferings of the Quakers, that effaced all recollection of the indignant disgust which the principles of these sec- taries had previously inspired. The people began to flock Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 225 in crowds to the prisons and load the unfortunate Quakers with demonstrations of kindness and pity. [This feeling finally became so strong that the magistrates dared no longer oppose it. After the condemnation of Wenlock Christison, who had defended himself with marked ability, the magistrates felt it necessary to change the sentences of the condemned Quakers to flog- ging and banishment. As the demeanor of the Quakers grew more quiet and orderly, the toleration of them increased, and the flogging of Quakers was soon after prohibited by Charles II.] The persecution thus happily closed was not equally severe in all the New England States : the Quakers suf- fered most in Massachusetts and Plymouth, and compara- tively little in Connecticut and New Haven. It was only in Massachusetts that the inhuman law inflicting capital punishment upon them was ever carried into effect. At a subsequent period, the laws relating to vagabond Quakers were so far revived that Quakers disturbing religious as- semblies, or violating public decorum, were subjected to corporal chastisement. But little occasion ever again oc- curred of executing these severities, the wild excursions of the Quaker spirit having generally ceased, and the Quakers gradually subsiding into a decent and orderly submission to all the laws, except such as related to the militia and the support of the clergy, — in their scruples as to which the provincial legislature, with reciprocal moderation, consented to indulge them. THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. BENJAMIN CHURCH. [After the defeat of the Pequots the New England colonies escaped the horrors of Indian warfare for a period of nearly forty years. This era of peace was destined to be followed by an era of terror and i.—p 226 AMERICAN HISTORY [Church massacre, beginning with the celehrated King Philip's War, and con- tinuing through the successive wars between the French and English, known as King William's and Queen Anne's Wars, and at a later period King George's and the French and Indian Wars, in which all the barbarity of savage warfare was let loose upon the devoted colonies of New England. During the life of Massasoit, the sachem of the Wampanoags, the treaty of peace which he had early made with the Plymouth colony continued unbroken. After his death his sons, Alexander and Philip, were suspected of hostile intentions. Alex- ander soon died, and Philip became sachem of the tribe. According to the early New England writers, he for several years occupied him- self in organizing a secret confederacy of the Indian tribes against the whites, of whose growing power he was jealous. Later historians doubt this, and are inclined to believe that he was driven into hos- tility by outrages committed by the whites, and impulsive reprisals by Indians. However that be, the existence of a plot, real or spurious, was declared by an Indian missionary, who was soon after murdered. Three Indians were arrested and hung for the crime. Philip now, by his own inclination, or by the determination of his tribe, prepared for war. The women and children of the tribe were sent to the Narra • gansetts for protection, and in July, 1675, an attack was made on the village of Swanzey, in Massachusetts, and several persons were killed. The whole country quickly took the alarm, and troops from Plym- outh and Boston marched in pursuit of the enemy. It must be borne in mind that the long interval of peace had greatly changed the conditions of both parties to the war. On the one hand, the whites of New England had greatly grown in strength, and now numbered about sixty thousand souls, while numerous settlements had been founded. On the other hand, the Indians no longer looked upon powder and ball as "bad medicine," which it was dangerous to touch. On the contrary, they had adopted the European methods of fight- ing, and exchanged the bow and arrow for the musket and bullet. We may briefly relate the events of the war. The pui-suing troops made their way to Mount Hope, the residence of Philip, but he fled, with his warriors, at their approach. He was shortly afterwards attacked in a swamp at Pocasset, but after a thirteen days' siege managed to escape. Other tribes were now brought into the war, and a party of twenty whites were ambushed and most of them killed. The remainder intrenched themselves in a house at Brookfleld, where they sustained a siege for two days, until relieved. Church] THE DEATH OF KIAG PHILIP. 227 On September 5 the Indians were attacked and defeated at Deer- field, and on the 11th they burned the town. On the same day they attacked the town of Hadley. The tradition goes that during the fight a venerable stranger suddenly appeared, put himself at the head of the townsmen, and drove back the foe. This is said to have been General GoflTe, one of the judges of Charles I., then concealed in that town. The story is entirely traditional, and has been called in question. On the 28th a party of eighty teamsters were assailed by a large body of Indians, and nearly all killed. The Indians were sub- sequently repulsed by a reinforcement of soldiers. Philip's next attack was upon Hatfield, where he met with a defeat. By this time the hostility to the whites had extended widely among the Indians. The Narragansetts had as yet kept the treaty of peace which had been made with them, but they were suspected of favoring Philip and of intending to break out into hostilities in the spring. It was therefore determined to crush them during the winter. A force of fifteen hundred men marched against their stronghold, — a fort in the midst of a great swamp, surrounded with high palisades, and having but a single entrance, over a fallen tree, which but one man at a time could cross. Here three thousand Indians had collected, with provisions, intending to pass the winter. They were attacked with fury, on December 29, by the English, but the latter were driven back with heavy loss. Another party of the invaders waded the swamp, and found a place destitute of palisades. They broke through this, with considerable loss, while others forced their way over the tree. A desperate conflict ensued, ending in a defeat of the Indians. The wig- wams were then set on fire, contrary to the advice of the ofBcers, and hundreds of women and children, and old, wounded, and infirm men, perished in the flames. Of the Narragansett warriors a thousand were killed or mortally wounded, and several hvmdreds taken prisoners. Cold and famine during the winter killed many more, but the weak remnant of the tribe joined Philip and became bitterly hostile. The war now extended to Maine and New Hampshire, whose settlements were exposed to the fury of Indian attack. The power of the Indians rapidly diminished, however, before the energy and discipline of the whites, and Philip found himself steadily growing weaker. It is said that he endeavored to persuade the Mohawks to join him, but in vain. In August, 16/6, he returned, with a small party of warriors, to Poka- noket, or Mount Hope, the seat of his tribe. Tidings of this fiict were brought to Captain Church, one of the most active of his adversaries, 228 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Chcrch who repaired with a small party to the spot. Captain Church has left on record the story of his connection with this war. It is the artless and prolix narrative of one better acquainted with the sword than with the pen, yet has the merit of being an exact relation of the facts, and of showing clearly the spirit of the Indian-fighters of that day. "We therefore extract from the " History of the Great Indian War of 1675 and 1676," by this grim old Indian-fighter, an account of the death of King Philip. This history was written by the son of Captain Church, from the notes of his father.] Captain Church being now at Plymouth again, weary and worn, would have gone home to his wife and family, but the government being solicitous to engage him in the service until Philip was slain, and promising him satisfac- tion and redress for some mistreatment that he had met with, he fixes for another expedition. He had soon volunteers enough to make up the company he desired, and marched through the woods until he came to Pocasset. And not seeing or hearing of any of the enemy, they went over the ferry to Ehode Island, to re- fresh themselves. The captain, with about half a dozen in his company, took horses and rode about eight miles down the island, to Mr. Sanford's, where he had left his wife. [She] * no sooner saw him, but fainted with surprise ; and by that time she was a little revived, they spied two horsemen coming a great pace. Captain Church told his company that " those men (by their riding) come with tidings." "When they came up, they proved to be Major Sanford and Cajstain Golding. [They]* immediatel}- asked Captain Church, what he would give to hear some news of Philip ? He replied, that was what he wanted. They told him they had rode hard with some hopes of over- taking him, and were now come on purpose to inform him that there were just now tidings from Mount Hope. An * " Who," in the original text. Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 229 Indian came down from thence (where Philip's camp now was) to Sandy Point, over against Ti-ip's, and hallooed, and made signs to be brought over. And being fetched over, he reported that he was fled from Philip, " who (said he) has killed my brother just before I came away, for giving some advice that displeased him." And said he was fled for fear of meeting with the same his brother had met with. Told them, also, that Philip was now in Mount Hope neck. Captain Church thanked them for their good news, and said he hoped by to-morrow morning to have the rogue's head. The horses that he and his company came on, standing at the door (for they had not been un- saddled), his wife must content herself with a short visit, when such game was ahead. They immediately mounted, set spurs to their horses, and away. The two gentlemen that brought him the tidings told him they would gladly wait on him to see the event of the expedition. He thanked them, and told them he should be as fond of their company as any men's ; and (in short) they went with him. And they were soon at Trip's ferry (with Captain Church's companj^), where the deserter was, who was a fellow of good sense, and told his story handsomely. He off'ered Captain Church to pilot him to Philip, and to help to kill him, that he might i^e- venge his brother's death. Told him that Philip was now upon a little spot of upland, that was in the south end of the miry swamp, just at the foot of the mount, which was a spot of ground that Captain Church was well acquainted with. By that time they were over the ferry, and came near the ground, half the night was spent. The captain commands a halt, and bringing the company together, he asked Major Sanford's and Captain Grolding's advice, what method was best to take in making the onset ; but I. 20 230 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Church they declined giving him any advice, telling him that his great experience and success forbid their taking upon them to give advice. Then Captain Church offered Captain Golding the honor (if he would please accept of it) to beat up Philip's head-quarters. [He designed to place the remainder of his men in ambush, and fire upon the Indians when they should endeavor to escape through the swamp.] Captain Church, knowing that it was Philip's custom to be foremost in the flight, went down to the swamp, and gave Captain Williams of Scituate the command of the right wing of the ambush, and placed an Englishman and an Indian together behind such shelters of trees, etc., that he could find, and took care to place them at such distance that none might pass undiscovered between them ; charged them to be careful of themselves, and of hurting their friends, and to fire at any that should come silently through the swamp. But, [it] being somewhat farther through the swamp than he was aware of, he wanted men to make up his ambuscade. Having placed what men he had, he took Major Sanford by the hand, [and] said, " Sir, I have so placed them that it is scarce possible Philip should escape them." The same moment a shot whistled over their heads, and then the noise of a gun towards Philip's camp. Captain Church, at first, thought it might be some gun discharged by ac- cident ; but before he could speak, a whole vollej' followed, which was earlier than he expected. [Captain Gelding had fired at a single Indian whom he perceived.] And upon his firing, the whole company that were with him fired upon the enemy's shelter, before the Indians had time to rise from their sleep, and so overshot them. But 4 -4'^''^' '\# '=1^*^^-: THE DEATH OK KIXG PHILIP. Church] THE DEATH OF KING PHILIP. 231 their shelter was open on that side next the swamp, built so on purpose for the convenience of flight on occasion. They were soon in the swamp, but Philip the foremost, who started at the first gun, threw his petunk and powder- horn over his head, catched up his gun, and ran as fast as he could scamper, without any more clothes than his small breeches and stockings ; and ran directly on two of Cap- tain Church's ambush. They let him come fair within shot, and the Englishman's gun missing fire, he bid the Indian fire away, and he did so to purpose ; sent one musket-ball through his heart, and another not above two inches from it. He fell upon his face in the mud and water, with his gun under him. [This event occurred on the 12th of August, 1676.] By this time the enemy perceived they were waylaid on the east side of the swamp, [and] tacked short about. One of the enemy, who seemed to be a great, surly old fellow, hallooed with a loud voice, and often called out, " Jootash, Jootash." Captain Church called to his Indian, Peter, and asked him, who that was that called so ? He answered that it was old Annawon, Philip's great captain, caUing on his soldiers to stand to it, and fight stoutly. Now the enemy finding that place of the swamp which was not ambushed, many of them made their escape in the English tracks. The man that had shot down Philip ran with all speed to Captain Church, and informed him of his exploit, who commanded him to be silent about it and let no man more know it, until they had driven the swamp clean. But when they had driven the swamp through, and found the enemy had escaped, or at least the most of them, and the sun now up, and so the dew gone, that they could not easily track them, the whole company- met together at the 232 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Church place where the enemy's night shelter was, and then Cap- tain Church gave them the news of Philip's death. Upon which the whole army gave three loud huzzas. Captain Church ordered his body to be pulled out of the mire to the upland. So some of Captain Church's Indians took hold of him by his stockings, and some by his small breeches (being otherwise naked), and drew him through the mud to the upland ; and a doleful, great, naked, dirty beast he looked like. Captain Church then said that forasmuch as he had caused many an English- man's body to be unburied, and to rot above ground, that not one of his bones should be buried. And calling his old Indian executioner, bid him behead and quarter him. Accordingly he came with his hatchet and stood over him, but before he struck he made a small speech, directing it to Philip, and said " he had been a very great man, and had made many a man afraid of him, but so big as he was, he would now chop him in pieces." And so he went to work and did as he was ordered. Philip having one very remarkable hand, being much scarred, occasioned by the splitting of a pistol in it for- merly, Captain Church gave the head and that hand to Alderman, the Indian who shot him, to show to such gentlemen as would bestow gratuities upon him ; and ac- cordingly he got many a penny by it. [All this is brutal enough to have been the action of Indians in- stead of whites, and shows that disposition to insult a fallen foe which is a characteristic of the warfare of barbarous peoples, but has happily died out in civilized nations. There was a strong spice of savagery in the Indian-fighters of the pioneer days of America, who looked upon the Indians as little better than wild beasts. The fall of Philip ended the war in southern New England, the tribes suing for peace. But hostilities were continued in Maine and New Hampshire till 1678, when a treaty of peace was concluded with the tribes of this locality. The forces of the Indians, and the results of the war, are Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 233 summarized by Trumbull in the following statement : " When Philip began the war, he and his kinswoman, "Wetamoe, had about five hun- dred warriors, and the Narragansetts nearly two thousand. The Nip- muck, Nashawa, Pocomtock, Hadley, and Springfield Indians were con- siderably numerous. It is probable, therefore, that there were about three thousand warriors combined for the destruction of the New England colonies, exclusive of the eastern Indians. The war termi- nated in their entire conquest and almost total extinction. At the same time, it opened a wide door for extensive settlement and population. This, however, in its connection with the war with the eastern Indians, was the most impoverishing and distressing of any that New England has ever experienced from its first settlement to the present time. . . . About six hundred of the inhabitants of New England, the greatest part of whom were the flower and strength of the country, either fell in battle or were murdered by the enemy. A great part of the in- habitants of the country were in deep mourning. There were few families or individuals who had not lost some near relative or friend. Twelve or thirteen towns, in Massachusetts, Plymouth, and Rhode Island, were utterly destroyed, and others greatly damaged. About six hundred buildings, chiefly dwelling-houses, were consumed with fire. An almost insuperable debt was contracted by the colonies, when their numbers, dwellings, goods, cattle, and all their resources were greatly diminished."] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. GEORGE BANCROFT. [King Philip's War was followed in New England by a series ot interesting events, embracing the actions of Andros, the tyrannical gov- ernor, and the eff'ort to abrogate the colonial charters, the wars with the French and Indians known as King "William's and Queen Anne's "Wars, and the remarkable witchcraft delusion, the only striking in- stance in this country of a peculiar form of persecution of which the preceding history of Europe is full. "We cannot better present the last-named subject than by an extract from Bancroft's " History of the I. 20* 234 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft United States,'' in which it is handled with his usual picturesque ability.] In the last year of the administration of Andros, who, as the servant of arbitrary power, had no motive to dispel superstition, the daughter of John Goodwin, a child of thirteen years, charged a laundress with having stolen linen from the family. Glover, the mother of the laun- dress, a friendless emigrant, almost ignorant of English, like a true woman with a mother's heart, rebuked the false accusation. Immediately the girl, to secure revenge, became bewitched. The infection spread. Three others of the family, the youngest a boy of less than five years old, soon succeeded in equally arresting public attention. They would affect to be deaf, then dumb, then blind, or all three at once ; they would bark like dogs, or purr like so many cats; but they ale well and slept well. Cotton Mather went to prayer by the side of one of them, and, lo ! the child lost her hearing till prayer was over. What was to be done ? The four ministers of Boston and the one of Charlestown assembled in Goodwin's house, and spent a whole day of fasting in prayer. In consequence, the youngest child, the little one of four years old, was "delivered." But if the ministers could thus by prayer deliver a possessed child, then there must have been a witch ; the honor of the magistrates required a prosecu- tion of the affiiir ; and the magistrates, William Stoughton being one of the judges, and all holding commissions ex- clusively from the English king, and being irresponsible to the people of Massachusetts, with a " vigor" which the united ministers commended as "just," made "a discovery of the wicked instrument of the devil." The culprit was evidently a wild Irish woman, of a strange tongue. Good- win, who made the complaint, " had no proof that could have done her any hurt;" but "the scandalous old hag," Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 235 whom some thought " crazed in her intellectuals," was bewildered, and made strange answers, which were taken as confessions ; sometimes, in excitement, using her native dialect. One Hughes testified that, six years before, she had heard one Howen say she had seen Glover come down her chimney. It was plain the prisoner was a Eoman Catholic ; she had never learned the Lord's prayer in English; she could repeat the paternoster fluently enough, but not quite correctly ; so the ministers and Goodwin's family had the satisfaction of getting her condemned as a witch, and executed. [Boston had its sceptics as to the reality of this tale of witchcraft, but the ministers, and Cotton Mather in particuhir, did their utmost to inflame the minds of the public on this subject. The Goodwin girl continued bewitched, and Cotton Mather invited her to his house, and made an investigation of the arts of the devil, who proved well skilled in languages, though there was one Indian language which he did not understand, and who could read men's thoughts, though it appeared that "all devils are not alike sagacious." Cotton Mather published a "Discourse" on this subject, and resolved to regard "the denial of devils, or of witches," as an evidence "of ignorance, incivility, and dishonest impudence." The next prosecution for witchcraft took place in 1692, three years later. Samuel Parris, a minister of Salem village, who had had bitter controversies with a part of his congregation, produced a bewitched daughter and niece. He flogged Tituba, a half Indian, half negro, servant, into confessing herself a witch. Then he accused Sarah Good, a poor, melancholy woman, who was put on trial for witchcraft ] Yet the delusion, but for Parris, would have languished. Of his own niece, the girl of eleven years of age, he de- manded the names of the devil's instruments who bewitched the band of " the afflicted," and then became at once in- former and witness. In those days there was no prosecut- ing officer ; and Parris was at hand to question his Indian servants and others, himself prompting their answers and 236 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft acting as recorder to the magistrates. The recollection of the old controversy in the parish could not be forgotten ; and Parris, moved by personal malice as well as by blind zeal, " stifled the accusations of some," — such is the testi- mony of the people of his own village, — and, at the same time " vigilantly promoting the accusations of others," was " the beginner and procurer of the sore aflflictions to Salem village and the country." Martha Cory, who in her ex- amination in the meeting-house before a throng, with a firm spirit, alone, against them all, denied the presence of witchcraft, was committed to prison. Eebecca Nurse, like- wise, a woman of purest life, an object of the special hatred of Parris, resisted the company of accusers, and was com- mitted. And Parris, filling his praj^ers with the theme, made the pulpit ring with it. " Have not I chosen 3'ou twelve," such was his text, — " and one of you is a devil ?" At this, Sarah Cloyce, sister to Rebecca Nurse, rose up and left the meeting-house ; and she, too, was cried out upon, and sent to prison. The subject grew interesting; and, to examine Sarah Cloyce and Elizabeth Procter, the deputy governor and five other magistrates went to Salem. It Avas a great day ; several ministers were present, Parris ofliciated ; and, by his own record, it is plain that he himself elicited eveiy accusation. His first witness, John, the Indian servant, husband to Tituba, was rebuked by Sarah Cloyce, as a grievous liai*. Abigail Williams, the niece to Parris, was also at hand with her tales ; the prisoner had been at the witches' sacrament. Struck with horror, Sarah Cloyce a^ed for water, and sank down " in a dying fainting fit." " Her spirit," shouted the band of the afllicted, " is gone to prison to her sister Nurse." Against Elizabeth Procter the niece of Parris told stories yet more foolish than false : the prisoner had invited her to sign the devil's book. " Dear Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 237 child," exclaimed the accused in her agony, "it is not so. There is another judgment, dear child ;" and her accusers, turning towards her husband, declared that he, too, was a wizard. All three were committed. Examinations and commitments multiplied. Giles Cory, a stubborn old man of more than fourscore years, could not escape the malice of his minister and his angry neighbors, with whom he had quarrelled. Edward Bishop, a farmer, cured the In- dian servant of a fit by flogging him ; he declared, more- over, his belief that he could, in like manner, cure the whole company of the afflicted, and, for his scepticism, found himself and his wife in prison. Mary East}", of Topsfield, another sister to Eebecca Nurse, — a woman of singular gentleness and force of character, deeply religious, yet uninfected by superstition, — was torn from her children and sent to jail. Parris had had a rival in George Bur- roughs, a graduate of Harvard College, who, having for- merly preached in Salem village, had had friends there desirous of his settlement. He, too, a sceptic in witch- craft, was accused and committed. Thus far, there had been no success in obtaining confessions, though earnest!}" solicited. It had been hinted, also, that confessing was the avenue to safety. At last. Deliverance Hobbs owned everything that was asked of her, and was left unharmed. The gallows were to be set up not for those who professed themselves witches, but for those who rebuked the delusion. [A court of magistrates, appointed under the royal charter, with Stoughton, a positive, overbearing man, for its chief judge, was now instituted for the trial of these cases. Bridget Bishop, a poor and friendless old woman, was the first to be tried. She had remarkable powers. " She gave a look towards the great and spacious meeting- house of Salem," says Cotton Mather, "and immediately a daemon, invisibly entering the house, tore down a part of it." She was a witch by all the rules and precedents, and was duly hanged. At the next session of the court five women were condemned. Rebecca Nurse 238 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft was at first acquitted, then condemned, and afterwards reprieved. But the influence of Parris secured her condemnation, and she was hanged with the rest.] Confessions rose in importance. " Some, not aflflicted before confession, were so presentl}'- after it." The jails were filled ; for fresh accusations were needed to confirm the confessions. " Some, by these their accusations of others," — I quote the cautious apologist Hall, — " hoped to gain time, and get favor from the rulers.". . . If the con- fessions were contradictory, if witnesses uttered apparent falsehoods, " the devil," the judges would say, " takes away their memory, and imposes on their brain." And who would now dare to be sceptical ? Who would disbelieve confessors? Besides, there were other evidences. A cal- lous spot was the mark of the devil : did age or amaze- ment refuse to shed tears; were threats after a quarrel followed by the death of cattle or other harm ; did an error occur in repeating the Lord's prayer ; were deeds of great physical strength performed, — these were all signs of witchcraft. In some instances, phenomena of somnambulism would appear to have been exhibited ; and " the afflicted, out of their fits, knew nothing of what they did or said in them." Again, on a new session, six were arraigned, and all were convicted. John Willard had, as an officer, been employed to arrest the suspected witches. Perceiving the hypoc- risy, he declined the service. The afflicted immediately denounced him, and he was seized, convicted, and hanged. At the trial of George Burroughs, the bewitched per- sons pretended to be dumb. " Who hinders these wit- nesses," said Stoughton, " from giving their testimonies ?" " I suppose the devil," answered Burroughs. " How comes the devil," retorted the chief judge, " so loath to have anj'- testimony borne against you ?" and the question was effec- Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 239 tive. Besides, he had given proofs of great, if not preter- natural, muscular strength. Cotton Mather calls the evi- dence " enough :" the jury gave a verdict of guilty. John Procter, who foresaw his doom, and knew from whom the danger came, sent an earnest petition, not to the governor and council, but to Cotton Mather and the ministers. Among the witnesses against him were some who had made no confessions till after torture. "They have already undone us in our estates, and that will not serve their turns without our innocent blood ;" and he begged for a trial in Boston, or, at least, for a change of magistrates. His entreaties were vain, as also his prayers, after condemnation, for a respite. Among the witnesses against Martha Carrier the mother saw her own children. Her two sons refused to perjure themselves till they had been tied neck and heels so long that the blood was ready to gush from them. The con- fession of her daughter, a child of seven years old, is still preserved. The aged Jacobs was condemned, in part, by the evi- dence of Margaret Jacobs, his grand-daughter. [She re- tracted her confession, but] the magistrates refused their belief, and, confining her for trial, proceeded to hang her grandfather. These five were condemned on the third and hanged on the nineteenth of August ; pregnancy reprieved Elizabeth Procter. To hang a minister as a witch was a novelty ; but Burroughs denied absolutely that there was, or could be, such a thing as Avitchcraft, in the current sense. This opinion wounded the self-love of the judges, for it made them the accusers and judicial murderers of the innocent. On the ladder Burroughs cleared his innocence by an ear- nest speech, repeating the Lord's prayer composedly and exactly, and with a fervency that astonished. Tears flowed 240 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft to the ej-es of many ; it seemed as if the spectators would rise up to hinder the execution. Cotton Mather, on horse- back among the crowd, addressed the people, cavilling at the ordination of Burroughs, as though he had been no true minister; insisting on his guilt, and hinting that the devil could sometimes assume the appearance of an angel of light ; and the hanging proceeded. Meantime, the confessions of the witches began to be di- rected against the Anabaptists. Mary Osgood was dipped by the devil. The court still had work to do. On the ninth, six women were condemned ; and more convictions followed. Giles Cory, the octogenarian, seeing that all who denied guilt were convicted, refused to plead, and was condemned to be pressed to death. The horrid sentence, a barbarous usage of English law, never again followed in the colonies, was executed forthwith. On the twenty-second of September eight persons were led to the gallows. Of these Samuel Wardwell had con- fessed, and was safe ; but, from shame and penitence, he retracted his confession, and, speaking the truth boldly, he was hanged, not for witchcraft, but for denying witch- craft. . , . The chief judge was positive that all had been done rightly, and "was very impatient in hearing anything that looked another way." " There hang eight firebrands of hell," said Noyes, the minister of Salem, pointing to the bodies swinging on the gallows. Already twenty persons had been put to death for witchcraft; fifty-five had been tortured or terrified into penitent confessions. With accusations, confessions in- creased ; with confessions, new accusations. Even " the generation of the children of God" were in danger of " falling under that condemnation." The jails were full. One hundred and fifty prisoners awaited trial ; two hundred more were accused or suspected. It was also Bancroft] THE SALEM WITCHCRAFT. 2-11 observed that no one of the condemned confessing \Yitcli- craft had been hanged. No one that confessed, and re- tracted a confession, had escaped either hanging or im- prisonment for trial. No one of the condemned who asserted innocence, even if one of the witnesses confessed perjury, or the foreman of the jury acknowledged the error of the verdict, escaped the gallows. Favoritism was shown in listening to accusations, which were turned aside from friends and partisans. If a man began a career as a witch- hunter, and, becoming convinced of the imposture, declined the service, he was accused and hanged. Persons accused, who had escaped from the jurisdiction in Massachusetts, were not demanded, as would have been done in case of acknowledged crime; so that the magistrates acted as if witch-law did not extend beyond their jurisdiction. Witnesses convicted of perjury were cautioned, and per- mitted still to swear away the lives of others. It was certain that people had been tempted to become accusers by promise of favor. Yet the zeal of Stoughton was un- abated, and the arbitrary court adjourned to the first Tuesday in November. [In the interval the colonial Assembly met. Kemonstrances were presented against the doings of the witch tribunal. There is no record of the discussions, but a convocation of ministers was ordered, the special court was abrogated, and a legal tribunal established. The meeting of this court was delayed till January of the following year. This interval of three months gave the people time to think.] When the court met at Salem, six women of Andover, at once renouncing their confessions, treated the witch- craft but as something so called, the bewildered but as " seemingly afflicted." A memorial of like tenor came from the inhabitants of Andover. Of the presentments, the grand jury dismissed more than half; and, if it found bills against twenty-six, the i.-i^ q 21 242 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Bancroft trials did but show the feebleness of the testimony on which others had been condemned. The minds of the juries became enlightened before those of the judges. The same testimony was produced, and there, at Salem, with Stoughton on the bench, verdicts of acquittal fol- lowed : " Error died among its worshippers." Three had, for special reasons, been convicted : one was a wife, whose testimony had sent her husband to the gallows, and whose confession was now used against herself All were re- prieved, and soon set free. Eeluctant to yield, the party of superstition were resolved on one conviction. The victim selected was Sarah Daston, a woman of eighty years old, who for twenty years had enjoyed the undis- puted reputation of a witch ; if ever there were a witch in the world, she, it was said, was one. In the presence of a throng the trial went forward at Charlestown : there was more evidence against her than against any at Salem ; but the common mind was disenthralled, and asserted itself, thi-ough the jury, by a verdict of acquittal. [Cotton Mather endeavored to cover his confusion by getting up a case of witchcraft in his own parish, the imposture of which was ex- posed to ridicule by Robert Calef, an unlettered but intelligent man. Parris was indignantly driven from Salem. Others begged forgiveness.] Stoughton and Cotton Mather never repented. The former lived proud, unsatisfied, and unbeloved ; the latter attempted to persuade others and himself that he had not been specially active in the tragedy. His diary proves that he did not Avholly escape the rising impeachment from the monitor within ; and Cotton Mather, who had sought the foundation of faith in tales of wonders, him self " had temptations to atheism, and to the abandon- ment of all religion as a mere delusion." The common mind of New England was more wise. It never wavered in its faith ; more ready to receive every • Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 243 tale from the invisible world than to gaze on the universe without acknowledging an Infinite Intelligence. But, employing a cautious spirit of search, eliminating error, rejecting superstition as tending to cowardice and sub- mission, cherishing religion as the source of courage and the fountain of freedom, it refused henceforward to sepa- rate belief and reason. THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. BENJAMIN TRUMBULL. [The English colonies in America, with the exception of those of Virginia and the Carolinas, were instituted under conditions of marked liberality, and enjoyed a degree of religious and political freedom vin- known in Europe at that day. Small groups of colonists, far removed from European institutions, and struggling with the difficulties of an untamed nature, could not be expected to conform to the intricate regulations of the old nationalities which they had left, and they at once began to govern themselves on the republican principle, in ac- cordance with the simplicity of their conditions. Monarchy made itself felt most fully in Virginia and the Carolinas, yet even here provincial Assemblies were quickly established, and the rigidity of the earlier systems abated. Maryland and Pennsylvania were organ- ized under highly-liberal constitutions, while the New England colo- nies began their existence as provincial republics. This state of affairs long continued with but spasmodic interferences from England, and the spirit of republicanism had greatly developed in the American colonies ere any serious effort was made to deprive them of their liberties. The growth of free institutions had been much favored by the strong republican sentiment then prevailing in England, which resulted in the overthrow of monarchy and the for- mation of the Commonwealth. After the death of Cromwell, and the re-establishment of the monarchy, indications of a desire to restrict the liberties of the colonies, now flourishing and important, became 244 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull manifest. Charles II. granted to his brother James, the Duke of York, the whole territory from the Connecticut River to the shores of the Delaware, which grant was quickly followed by the illegal seizure of New Amsterdam, which received the name of New York. The Dutch rule over this province had been to a considerable extent autocratic, and this was continued by the English governors, despite the protests of the people. In 1672, during a war between England and Holland, the city was recaptured by the Dutch, but was returned to the English on the conclusion of peace. The Dulce of York now obtained a new patent to confirm his title, and made Edmund Andros governor of the province. The rule of this governor was tyrannical. He levied taxes without asking the consent of the people, and refused them a representative Assembly. He attempted to extend his jurisdic- tion over New Jersey, and as far east as the Connecticut River, but failed in this. Under Thomas Dongan, the succeeding governor, a representative government was established in New York, through the advice of William Penn. With the accession of the Duke of York to the throne, under the title of James II., a vigorous effort to overthrow the liberties of the colonists was made. A direct tax was decreed, printing-presses were forbidden, and many arbitrary edicts passed. In 1686 the late tyran- nical governor of New York, now Sir Edmund Andros, was sent to Massachusetts, with a commission as governor of all the New England provinces. In 1688 his rule was extended over New York. He at once displayed the intention to act the tyrant, and immediately on his arrival in Boston, in December, 1686, demanded a surrender of all the charters of the colonies, while publishing edicts which annulled the existing liberties of the people. Of the several colonies, Connecticut alone refused to surrender its charter. To enforce his demand Andros marched to Hartford with a body of soldiers in October, 1687. The story of these events we quote from the antique " History of Con- necticut," by Benjamin Trumbull.] Mr. Dudley, while president of the commissioners, had written to the governor and company, advising them to resign the charter into the hands of his majesty, and promising to use his influence in favor of the colony. Mr. Dudley's commission was superseded by a commission to Sir Edmund Andros to be governor of New England. He Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 245 arrived at Boston on the 19th of December, 1636. The next day his commission was jiublished, and he took on him the administration of government. Soon after his arrival he wrote to the governor and company that he had a commission from his majesty to receive their charter, if they would resign it; and he pressed them, in obedience to the king, and as they would give him an opportunity to serve them, to resign it to his pleasure. . . . But the colony [of Connecticut] insisted on their charter rights, and on the promise of King James, as well as of his royal brother, to defend and secure them in the enjoj^ment of their privileges and estates, and would not surrender their charter to either. . . . The Assembly met, as usual, in October, and the govern- ment continued according to charter until the last of the month. About this time, Sir Edmund, with his suite, and more than sixty regular troops, came to Hartford, when the Assembly were sitting, demanded the charter, and de- clared the government under it to be dissolved. The As- sembly were extremely reluctant and slow with respect to any resolve to surrender the charter, or with respect to any motion to bring it forth. The tradition is that Gov- ernor Treat strongly represented the great expense and hardships of the colonists in planting the country, the blood and treasure which they had expended in defending it, both against the savages and foreigners; to what hard- ships and dangers he himself had been exposed for that purpose ; and that it was like giving up his life, now to surrender the patent and privileges so dearly bought and so long enjoyed. The important affair was debated and kept in suspense until the evening, when the charter was brought and laid upon the table, where the Assembly were sitting. By this time, gi'eat numbers of people were as- sembled, and men sufficiently bold to enterprise whatever 1. 2\* 246 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull might be necessary or exjDcdient. The lights were in stantly extinguished, and one Captain Wadsworth, of Hart- ford, in the most silent and secret manner, carried oif the charter, and secreted it in a large hollow tree, fronting the house of the Honorable Samuel Wj'Uys, then one of the magistrates of the colony. The people appeared all peace- able and orderly. The candies were officiously relighted, but the jjatent was gone, and no discovery could be made of it, or of the person who had conveyed it away. [This stirring scene, wliicli is told with more dramatic additions by later authors, unfortunately rests upon traditional evidence only, and is entirely unsupported by documentary testimony. "While it may have actually occurred, there is no positive proof that it did. The documents simply tell us that Sir Edmund assumed the government, and closed the colonial records with a statement of this fact, and the ominous word "Finis." It was, for the time being, "the end" of American liberty.] Sir Edmund began his government with the most flat- tering protestations of his regard to the public safety and happiness. He instructed the judges to administer justice, as far as might be consistent with the new regulations, according to the former laws and customs. It is, how- ever, well observed by Grovernor Hutchinson, that " Nero concealed his tyrannical disposition more years than Sir Edmund and his creatures did months." He soon laid a restraint upon the liberty of the press ; aud then one far more grievous upon marriage. . . . Magistrates on\j were allowed to join people in the bands of wedlock. The governor not only deprived the clergy of the perquisite from marriages, but soon suspended the laws for their support, and would not suifer any person to be obliged to pay anything to his minister. Nay, he menaced the people that, if they resisted his will, their meeting-houses should be taken from them, and that any person who I Trumbull] THE TYRANT OF NEW ENGLAND. 247 should give twopence to a non-coDformist minister should be punished. The fees of all officers, under this new administra- tion, wei'e exorbitant. . . . Sir Edmund, without an As- sembly, nay, without a majority of his council, taxed the people at pleasure. He and Randolph, with four or five others of his creatures, who were sufficiently wicked to join with him in all his oppressive designs, managed the affairs of government as they pleased. But these were but the beginnings of oppression and sorrow. They were Roon greatly increased and moi'e extensively spread. . . . As the chai'ters were now either vacated, surrendered, or the government under them suspended, it was declared that the titles of the colonists to their lands were of no value. Sir Edmund declared that Indian deeds were no belter than "the scratch of a bear's paw." Not the fairest purchases and most ample conveyances from the natives, no dangers, disbursements, nor labors in cultivat- ing a wilderness and turning it into orchards, gardens, and pleasant fields, no grants by charter, nor by legislatures constituted by them, no declarations of preceding kings, nor of his then present majesty, promising them the quiet enjoyment of their houses and lands, nor fifty or sixty years' undisturbed possession, were pleas of any validity or consideration with Sir Edmund and his minions. The purchasers and cultivators, after fifty and sixty years' improvement, were obliged to take out patents for their estates. For these, in some instances, a fee of fifty pounds was demanded. . . . The governor, and a small number of his council, in the most arbitrary manner, fined and imprisoned numbers of the inhabitants of Massachusetts, and denied them the benefit of the act of habeas corpus. All town meetings were prohibited, except one in the month of May, for the 248 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull election of town officers. . . . No person was suffered to go out of the country without leave from the governor, lest complaints should be carried to England against his administration. At the same time, he so well knew the temper and views of his royal master that he feared little from him, even though complaints should be carried over against him. Hence he and his dependants oppressed the people, and enriched themselves without restraint. [Despite his eftbrts, comphiints and petitions made their way to England; yet they proved of little effect upon the king.] In the reign of James II., petitions so reasonable and just could not be heard. The prince at home, and his officers abroad, like greedy harpies, prej'ed upon the people without control. Eandolph was not ashamed to make his boast, in his letters, with respect to Governor Andros and his council, "that they were as arbitrary as the Great Turk." All New England groaned under their oppression. The heaviest share of it, however, fell upon the inhabi- tants of Massachusetts and New Plymouth. Connecticut had been less obnoxious to government than Massachu setts, and, as it was further removed from the seat of government, was less under the notice and influence of those oppressors. . . . All the motives to great actions, to industry, economy, enterprise, wealth, and population, were in a manner anni- hilated. A general inactivity and languishment pervaded the whole public body. Liberty, property, and everj'thing which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more and more insecure. The colonies were in a state of gen- eral desjDondency with respect to the restoration of their privileges, and the truth of that divine maxim, " When the wicked beareth rule the people mourn," was, in a striking manner, everywhere exemplified. Tkumbull] the tyrant OF NEW ENGLAND. 249 [Fortunately, this grinding tyranny was not of long continuance. Early in 1689 tidings reached Boston that James II. was no longer king: in November, 1688, William of Orange had landed in Eng- land and driven the tyrant from his throne. The Bostonians at once rebelled against Andros. His tyranny was denounced by the magis- trates, and he, with several of his creatures, was seized and imprisoned. Andros twice attempted to escape from confinement, and once got as far as Ehode Island, but was captured and brought back. In July he was sent to England, where he was acquitted without trial. And so ended the most prominent early effort to take away the liberties of the American people. Andros was subsequently (in 1G92) made governor of Virginia. Here, however, his rule was less arbitrary, and he be- came popular with the planters. The traditions of early Connecticut present one more scene of great dramatic interest, in which the spirit of liberty of the people, and the energy of Captain Wadsworth, were manifested in the same deter- mined manner as in the incident described. This occurred in 1693, during King William's War. An account of it may be quoted from Trumbull.] Colonel Benjamin Fletcher, governor of New York, who had arrived at the seat of his government August 29, 1692, had received a commission entirely inconsistent with the charter rights and safety of the colonies. He was vested with plenary powers of commanding the whole militia of Connecticut and the neighboi'ing provinces. He insisted on the command of the militia of Connecticut. As this was expressl}^ given to the colony, by charter, the legislature would not submit to his requisition. [A special Assembly met, and drew up a petition to the king, rep- resenting the true state of affairs in the colony, and the disadvan- tage and danger which might result from giving the command of the militia to the governor of another province.] The colony wished to serve his majesty's interest, and as far as possible, consistently with their chartered rights, to maintain a ccood understandinfr with Governor Fletcher. 250 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull William Pitkin, Esquire, was therefore sent to New York, to treat and make terms with him respecting the militia, until his majesty's pleasure should be further known. But no terms could be made with him short of an explicit submission of the militia to his command. On the 26th of October he came to Hartford, while the Assembly were sitting, and, in his majesty's name, de- manded their submission of the militia to his command, as they would answer it to his majest}^, and that they would give him a speedy answer in two words, Yes, or No. . . . He ordered the militia of Hartford under arms, that he might beat up for volunteers. It was judged expedient to call the train-bands of Hartford together ; but the Assem- bly insisted that the command of the militia was expressly vested, b}" charter, in the governor and company, and that they could by no means, consistently with their just rights and the common safety, resign it into any other hands. [In response Governor Fletcher made the dechiration that he had no design upon the civil rights of the colonists, and offered the command of the militia to Governor Treat, under his commission.] The Assembly, nevertheless, would not give up the com- mand of the militia ; nor would Governor Treat receive a commission from Colonel Fletcher. The train-bands of Hartford assembled, and, as the tra- dition is, while Captain Wadsworth, the senior ofHeer, was walking in front of the companies and exercising the sol- diers. Colonel Fletcher ordered his commission and instruc- tions to be read. Captain Wadsworth instantly commanded, '• Beat the drums ;" and there was such a roaring of them that nothing else could be heard. Colonel Fletcher com- manded silence. But no sooner had Bayai'd made an at- tempt to read again, than Wadsworth commands, ''Drum, drum, I say." The drummers understood their business, * Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 251 and instantly beat up with all the art and life of which they were masters. " Silence, silence," says the colonel. No sooner was there a pause, than Wadsworth speaks with great earnestness, " Drum, drum, I say ;" and, turning to his excellency, said, "If I am interrupted again I will make the sun shine through you in a moment." He spoke with such energy in his voice and meaning in his counte- nance that no further attempts were made to read or enlist men. Such numbers of people collected together, and their spirits appeared so high, that the governor and his suite judged it expedient soon to leave the town and return to New York. THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. WILLIAM SMITH. [The news of the accession of William of Orange to the English throne produced in New York an effect very similar to that which it produced in New England, — an uprising of the people against their tyrannical governor. But the revolt here against the lieutenant of Andros grew into a rebellion against the constituted authorities, of sufficient interest to demand special consideration. Another impor- tant event of the same period was the massacre of the inhabitants of Schenectady by a party of French and Indians, — a far-off result of the war then raging in Europe between the French and English. We extract a description of these events from William Smith's " History of New Tori?," one of the oldest of American historical wori-cs, as it was originally published in 1756.] "While these things were transacting in Canada [the massacre of the Fx*ench on the island of Montreal by the Iroquois], a scene of the greatest importance was opening at New York. A general dissatisfaction to the govern- ment prevailed among the people. Papists began to settle 252 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith in the colony undei' the smiles of the governor. The col- lector of the revenues, and several principal officers, threw off the mask, and openly avowed their attachment to the doctrines of Eome. A Latin school was set up, and the teacher strongly suspected for a Jesuit. The people of Long Island, who were disappointed in their expectation of mighty boons, promised by the governor on bis arrival, were become his personal enemies; and, in a word, the whole body of the people trembled for the Protestant cause. Here the leaven of opposition first began to work. Their intelligence from England, of the designs there in favor of the Prince of Oi-ange, blew up the coals of dis- content, and elevated the hopes of the disaffected. But no man dared to spring in action till after the ruj^ture in Boston. Sir Edmund Andros, who was perfectly devoted to the arbitrary measures of King James, by his tyranny in New England had drawn upon himself the universal odium of the people, animated Avith the love of liberty and in the defence of it resolute and courageous ; and, there- fore, when they could no longer endure his despotic rule, they seized and imprisoned him, and afterwards sent him to England. The government, in the mean time, was vested in the hands of a committee for the safety of the people, of which Mr. Bradstreet was chosen president. Upon the news of this event, several captains of our militia convened themselves to concert measures in favor of the Prince of Orange. Among these, Jacob Leisler was the most active. He was a man in tolerable esteem among the people, and of a moderate fortune, but destitute of every qualification necessary for the enterprise. Milborne, his son-in-law, an Englishman, directed all his councils, while Leisler as absolutely influenced the other officers. The first thing they contrived was to sei::e the garrison in New York ; and the custom, at that time, of guarding Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 253 it every night b}' the militia, gave Leisler a fine opportu- nity of executing the design. He entered it with forty- nine men, and determined to hold it till the whole militia should join him. Colonel Dongan, who was about to leave the province, then lay embarked in the bay, having a little before resigned the government to Francis Nichol- son, the lieutenant-governor. The council, civil officers, and magistrates of the city were against Leisler, and therefore many of his friends were at first fearful of openly espousing a cause disapproved by the gentlemen of figure. For this reason, Leisler's first declaration in favor of the Prince of Orange was subscribed only by a few, among several companies of the trained bands. While the people for four days successively were in the utmost perplexity to determine what part to choose, being solicited by Leisler on the one hand and threatened b}^ the lieutenant-governor on the other, the town was alarmed with a report that three ships were coming up with orders from the Prince of Orange. This falsehood was veiy seasonably propagated to serve the intei'est of Leisler; for on that day, the 3d of June, 1689, his party was augmented by the addition of six captains and four hundred men in New York, and a company of seventy men from East Chester, who all subscribed a second dec- laration, mutually covenanting to hold the fort for the prince. Colonel Dongan continued till this time in the harbor, waiting the issue of these commotions ; and Nich- olson's party, being now unable to contend with their opponents, were totally dispersed, the lieutenant-governor himself absconding, the very night after the last declara- tion was signed. [Leisler at once sent to King William an account of liis proceed- ings, but Lieutenant-Governor Nicholson had previously reached England, and had falsely represented the late actions to Leisler's I. 22 I 254 AM Eli WAX HISTORY. [Smith pi-ejudice. The authorities of the city, being opposed to the new party in power, retired to Albany.] Except the eastern inhabitants of Long Island, all the southern part of the colony cheerfully submitted to Leis- ler's command. The principal freeholders, however, by their respectful letters, gave him hopes of their submis- sion, and thereby prevented his betaking himself to arms, while they were privately soliciting the colony of Con- necticut to take them under its jurisdiction. They had indeed no aversion to Leisler's authority in favor of any other party in the province, but were willing to be incor- porated with a people from whence they had originally colonized ; and, therefore, as soon as Connecticut declined their request, they openly appeared to be advocates for Leisler. . . . The people of Albany, in the mean time, were determined to hold the garrison and city for King William, independent of Leisler, and on the 26th of Oc- tober, which was before the packet arrived from Lord Nottingham, formed themselves into a convention for that purpose. . . . Taking it for granted that Leisler at New York, and the convention at Albany, were equally affected to the revolution, nothing could be more egregiously foolish than the conduct of both parties, who, by their intestine divisions, threw the province into convulsions and sowed the seeds of mutual hatred and animosity, which, for a long time after, greatly embarrassed the public affairs of the colony. When Albany declared for the Prince of Orange, there was nothing else that Leisler could properly require ; and, rather than sacrifice the public peace of the province to the trifling honor of resisting a man who had no evil designs, Albany ought in prudence to have deliv- ered the garrison into his hands, till the king's definitive orders should arrive. But while Leisler, on the one hand. Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 255 was inebriated Avith his new-gotten power, so, on the other, Baj^ard, Courtland, Schuyler, and others, could not brook a submission to the authority of a man mean in his abilities and inferior in his degree. Animated by these principles, both parties prepared, the one to reduce, if I may use the expression, the other to retain, the garrison of Albany. . . . Jacob Milborne was commissioned for the reduction of Albany. Upon his ari'ival there, a great number of the in- habitants armed themselves and repaired to the fort, then commanded by Mr. Schuyler, while many others followed the other members of the convention to a conference with him at the city hall. Milborne, to proselyte the crowd, declaimed much against King James, Popery, and arbi- trary power; but his oratory was lost upon the hearers, who, after several meetings, still adhered to the consren- tion. Milborne then advanced with a few men up to the fort, and Mr. Schuyler had the utmost difficulty to pre\ent both his own men and the Mohawks, who were then in Albany, and perfectly devoted to his service, from firing upon Milborne's party, which consisted of an inconsid- erable number. In these circumstances, he [Milborne] thought proper to retreat, and soon after departed from Albany. In the spring he commanded another party upon the same errand, and the distress of the country upon an Indian irruption gave him all the desii-ed success. No sooner was he possessed of the garrison than most of the j)rincipal members of the convention absconded. Upon which their effects were arbitrarily seized and confiscated, which so highly exasperated the sufferers that their pos- terity, to this day, cannot speak of these ti-oubles with- out the bitterest invectives against Leisler and all his adherents. [During these proceedings war broke out between the French and 256 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith the English. A French fleet was sent over, with the design of taking New York ; but the distressed condition of the colony in Canada de- feated this project. Efforts were then made to bring over the Iroquois Indians to the French side.] Among other measures to detach the Five Nations from the British interest and raise the depressed spirit of the Canadians, the Count de Frontenac thought proper to send out several parties against the English colonies. D'Aillebout, De Mantel, and Le Moyne commanded that against New York, consisting of about two hundred French and some Caghnuaga Indians, who, being proselytes from the Mohawks, were perfectly acquainted with that country. Their orders were, in general, to attack New York ; but, pursuing the advice of the Indians, they resolved, instead of Albany, to surprise Schenectady, a village seventeen miles northwest from it, and about the same distance from the Mohawks. The people of Schenectady, though they had been informed of the designs of the enemy, were in the greatest security, judging it impracticable for any men to march several hundred miles, in the depth of winter, through the snow, bearing their provisions on their backs. Besides, the village was in as much confusion as the rest of the province, the oflScers who were posted there being unable to preserve a regular watch, or any kind of military order. . . . After two-and-twenty days' march, the enemy fell in with Schenectady on the 8th of February [1690], and were reduced to such straits that they had thoughts of surrendering themselves prisoners of war. But their scouts, who were a day or two in the village entirely un- suspected, returned with such encouraging accounts of the absolute security of the people that the enemy determined on the attack. They entered on Saturday night about eleven o'clock, at the gates, which were found unshut, and, Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW YORK. 257 that every house might be invested at the same time, divided into small parties of six or seven men. The in- habitants were in a profound sleep, and unalarmed, till their doors were broken open. Never were people in a more wretched consternation. Before they were risen from their beds, the enemy entered their houses and began the perpetration of the most inhuman barbarities. No tongue, says Colonel Schuyler, can express the cruelties that were committed. The whole village was instantly in a blaze. Women with child were ripped open, and their infants cast into the flames, or dashed against the posts of the doors. Sixty persons perished in the massaci'e, and twenty-seven were carried into captivity. The rest fled naked towards Albany, through a deep snow that fell that very night in a terrible storm ; and twenty-five of these fugitives lost their limbs in the flight, through the severity of the frost. The news of this dreadful tragedy reached Albany about break of day, and universal dread seized the inhabitants of that city, the enemy being reported to be one thousand four hundred strong. A party of horse was immediately despatched to Schenectady, and a few Mo- hawks, then in the town, fearful of being intercepted, were with difficulty sent to apprise their own castles. The Mohawks were unacquainted with this bloody scene till two days after it happened, our messengers being scarce able to travel through the great depth of snow. The enemy, in the mean time, pillaged the town of Sche- nectady till noon the next day, and then went ofl" with their plunder and about forty of their best horses. The rest, with all the cattle they could find, lay slaughtered in the streets. [This outrage was to some extent revenged by the Mohawks, who pursued and killed a number of the enemy, while during the year the Canadians met with other losses at the hands of the Iroquois. During i.—r 22* 258 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Smith this j-ear, also, Sir William Phipps made an expedition against Que- bec, with a fleet of thirty-two sail. His demand for a surrender was contemned by De Frontenac, and he was quickly repulsed, with loss. Shortly afterwards. Colonel Henry Sloughter, the newly-appointed governor of the province, arrived at New York.] If Leislei' had delivered the garrison to Colonel Slough- ter, as he ought to have done, upon his first landing, besides extinguishing, in a degree, the animosities then subsisting, he would, doubtless, have attracted the favor- able notice both of the governor and the crown. But, being a weak man, he was so intoxicated with the love of power that, though he had been well informed of Slough- ter's appointment to the government, he not only shut himself up in the fort with Bayard and Nichols, whom he had, before that time, imprisoned, but refused to deliver them up or to surrender the garrison. From this moment he lost all credit with the governor, who joined the other party against him. On the second demand of the fort, Milborne and De Lanoj^ came out, under pretence of con- ferring with his excellency, but in reality to discover his designs. Sloughter, who considered them as rebels, threw them both into jail. Leislcr, upon this event, thought proper to abandon the fort, which Colonel Sloughter im- mediately entered. Bayard and Nichols were now re- leased from their confinement, and sworn of the privy council. Leisler, having thus ruined his cause, was appre- hended, with many of his adherents, and a commission of oyer and terminer issued to Sir Thomas Robinson, Colonel Smith, and others, for their trials. In vain did they plead the merit of their zeal for King William, since they had so lately opposed his governor. Leisler, in particular, endeavored to justify his conduct, insisting that Lord Nottingham's letter entitled him to act in the quality of lieutenant-governor. Whether it Smith] THE LEISLER REVOLT IN NEW FORK. 259 was through ignorance or sj^cophanej, I know not, but the judges, instead of pronouncing their own sentiments upon this part of the prisoner's defence, referred it to the governor and council, prajdng their opinion whether that lettex', " or any other letters, or papers, in the packet from Whitehall, can be understood or interpreted to be and contain any power or direction to Captain Leisler to take the government of this province upon himself, or that the administration thereof be holden good in law." The an- swer was, as might have been expected, in the negative ; and Leisler and his son [-in-law] were condemned to death for high treason. [Many of Leisler's adherents immediately fled to the other prov- inces, in fear of being apprehended. It may be remarked here that later historians relate that the first demand on Leisler to surrender was made by Richard Ingoldsby, who arrived before Colonel Slough- ter, and announced his appointment. His demand was peremptorily made, and was refused. On Sloughter's arrival Ingoldsby was again sent to demand a surrender, Leisler's messengers to the governor being detained. Leisler hesitated for a while, but the next day personally surrendered the fort.] Colonel Sloughter proposed, immediately after the ses- sion [of the Assembly], to set out to Albany ; but, as Leisler's party were enraged at his imprisonment and the late sentence against him, his enemies were afraid new troubles would spring up in the absence of the gov- ernor: for this reason, both the Assembly and council advised that the prisoners should be immediately exe- cuted. Sloughter, who had no inclination to favor them in this request, chose rather to delay such a violent step, being fearful of cutting off two men who had vigorously appeared for the king, and so signally contributed to the revolution. Nothing could be more disagreeable to their enemies, whose interest was deeply concerned in their 260 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell destruction. And, therefore, -when no other measures could prevail with the governor, tradition informs us that a sumptuous feast was prepared, to which Colonel Sloughter was invited. When his excellency's reason was drowned in his cups, the entreaties of the company prevailed with him to sign the death-warrant, and befoi'e he recovered his senses the prisoners were executed. [Sloughter died suddenly shortly afterwards. Leisler's son made complaint to the king, but the execution was sustained by the author- ities in England. Afterwards the attainder of treason was removed, and the estates of Leisler and Milborne were restored to their families. The bodies of the victims were taken up, and interred with great pomp in the old Dutch church of New York city.] THE BACON REBELLION. CHARLES CAMPBELL. [The tyranny that was instituted by Andros in New England was paralleled by despotic proceedings in some of the other colonies. In Virginia these led to a rebellion which was for a time successful. Un- like the inhabitants of the more northerly colonies, the Virginians were stanch advocates of the Church of England and partisans of the king, and were intolerant alike of religious and democratic here- sies. When Charles I. was executed the planters of Virginia declared for his son, and only submitted under show of force to the Common- wealth. They gladly welcomed Charles II. to the throne, and accepted with acclamation a royal governor, Sir William Berkley. It was not long, however, ere they found reason for a change of opinion. Des- potic measures were put in force, the Assembly, instead of being re- elected every two years, was kept permanently in session, and the inhabitants became the prey of venal office-holders. Commercial laws were instituted which bore severely upon the planters. Tobacco could be sent to none but English ports, and every tobacco-laden ship had to pay a heavy duty before leaving Virginia, and another on reaching Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 261 England. Berkley had the true composition of a tyrant, as is shown in his memorable utterance, " I thank God there are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope we shall not have these hundred years ; for learning has brought disobedience into the world, and printing has divulged them and libels against the best governments. God keep us from both !" To the evils above mentioned were added a series of Indian depreda- tions, which grew in extent till more than three hundred of the set- tlers had been killed. The government showed little disposition to repress these savage outrages, and the people grew exasperated. At this juncture a young man named Nathaniel Bacon came forward as a leader, and the people readily supported him in what soon assumed the proportions of a rebellion against the constituted authorities. The story of this outbreak is well told in Campbell's " History of Virginia," from which we select its leading particulars.] " About the year 1675," says an old writer, " appeared three prodigies in that country, which, from the attending disasters, were looked upon as ominous presages. The one was a large comet, every evening for a week or more at southwest, thirty-five degrees high, streaming like a horse- tail westward, until it reached (almost) the horizon, and setting toward the northwest. Another was flights of wild pigeons, in breadth nigh a quarter of the mid-hemi- sphere, and of their length was no visible end; whose weights broke down the limbs of large trees whereon these rested at nights, of which the fowlers shot abun- dance, and ate them ; this sight put the old planters under the more portentous apprehensions because the like was seen (as they said) in the year 1644, when the Indians committed the last massacre ; but not after, until that present year, 1675. The third strange phenomenon was swarms of flies about an inch long, and big as the top of a man's little finger, rising out of spigot-holes in the earth, which ate the new-sprouted leaves from the tops of the trees, without other harm, and in a month left us." 262 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell [These prodigies undoubtedly appeared to the superstitious inhab- itants as omens of the disastei-s which at this time fell upon them in murdering incursions of the Indians. A large body of men proceeded against the Susquehannocks, whom they charged with these outrages. But the violent measures which they adopted only inflamed the pas- sions of the savages, who at once broke into open hostilities.] At the falls of the James the savages had slain a ser- vant of Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., and his overseer, to whom he was much attached. This was not the place of Bacon's residence : Bacon Quarter Branch, in the suburbs of Rich- mond, probably indicates the scene of the murder. Bacon himself resided at Curies, in Henrico County, on the lower James River. It is said that when he heard of the catas- trophe he vowed vengeance. In that time of panic, the more exposed and defenceless families, abandoning their homes, took shelter together in houses, where they forti- fied themselves with palisades and redoubts. Neighbors, banding together, passed in co-operating parties from plan- tation to plantation, taking arms with them into the fields where they laboi-ed, and posting sentinels to give warning of the approach of the insidious foe. No man ventured out of doors unarmed. Even Jamestown was in danger. The red men, stealing with furtive glance through the shade of the forest, the noiseless tread of the moccasin scarce stirring a leaf, prowled around like panthers in quest of prey. At length the people at the head of the James and the York, having in vain petitioned the governor for protection, alarmed at the slaughter of their neighbors, often murdered with every circumstance of barbarity, rose tumultuously in self-defence, to the number of three hun- dred men, including most, if not all the officers, civil and military, and chose Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., for their leader. According to another authorit}', Bacon, before the murder of his overseer and servant, had been refused the commis- Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 263 ision, and bad sworn that upon the next murder he should hear of he would march against the Indians, " commission or no commission." . . . Bacon had been living in the colony somewhat less than three years, having settled at Curies, on the lower James, in the midst of those people who were the greatest suffer- ers from the depredations of the Indians, and he himself had frequently felt the effects of their inroads. ... At the breaking out of these disturbances he was a member of the council. He was gifted with a graceful person, great abilities, and a powerful elocution, and was the most ac- complished man in Virginia ; his courage and resolution were not to be daunted, and his affability, hospitality, and benevolence commanded a wide popularity throughout the colony. The men who had jDut themselves under Bacon's com- mand made preparations for marching against the Indians, but in the mean time sent again to obtain from the gov- ernor a commission of general for Bacon, with authority to lead out his followers, at their own expense, against the enemy. He then stood so high in the council, and the ex- igency of the case was so pressing, that Sir William Berk- ley, thinking it imprudent to return an absolute refusal, concluded to temporize. Some of the leading men about him, it was believed, took occasion to foment the differ- ence between him and Bacon, envying a rising luminar}' that threatened to eclipse them. This conduct is like that of some of the leading men in Virginia who, one hundred years later, compelled Patrick Henry to resign his post in the army. Sir William Berkley sent his evasive reply to the ap- plication for a commission, by some of his friends, and instructed them to persuade Bacon to disband his forces. He refused to comply with this request, and, having in 264 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell twenty days mustered five hundred men, marched to the falls of the James. Thereupon the governor, on the 29th day of May, 1676, issued a proclamation declaring all such as should fail to return within a certain time rebels. Bacon likewise issued a declaration, setting forth the public dangers and grievances, but taking no notice of the governor's proclamation. Upon this the men of property, fearful of a confiscation, deserted Bacon and returned home ; but he proceeded with fifty-seven men. . . . The movement was revolutionary, — a miniature proto- type of the revolution of 1688 in England, and of 1776 in America. But Bacon, as before mentioned, with a small body of men proceeded into the wilderness, up the river, his jDrovisions being nearly exhausted before he discovered the Indians. At length a tribe of friendly Mannakius were found intrenched within a palisaded fort on the further side of a branch of the James. Bacon endeavoring to procure provisions from them and offering compensation, they put him off with delusive promises till the third day, when the whites had eaten their last morsel. They now waded up to the shoulder across the branch to the fort, again soliciting provisions and tendering payment. In the evening one of Bacon's men was killed by a shot from that side of the branch which they had left, and, this giving rise to a suspicion of collusion with Sir William Berkley and treachery, Bacon stormed the fort, burnt it and the cabins, blew up their magazine of arms and gun- powder, and, with a loss of only three of his own part}", put to death one hundred and fifty Indians. It is difficult to credit, impossible to justify, this massacre. . . . Bacon with his followers returned to their homes, and he was shortly after elected one of the burgesses for the County of Henrico. . . . Bacon, upon being elected, going down the James Eiver with a party of his friends, was met by Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 265 an armed vessel, ordered on board of her, and arrested by Major Howe, High Sheriff of James City, who conveyed him to the governor at that place, by whom he was ac- costed thus : " Mr. Bacon, you have forgot to be a gentle- man." He replied, " No, may it please your honor." The governor said, " Then I'll take your parole;" which he ac- cordingly did, and gave him his liberty ; but a number of his companions, who had been arrested with him, were still kept in irons. On the 5th day of June, 1676, the members of the new Assembly, whose names are not recorded, met in the chamber over the general court, and, having chosen a speaker, the governor sent for them down, and addressed them in a brief abrupt speech on the Indian disturbances, and, in allusion to the chiefs who had been slain, exclaimed, " If they had killed my grandfather and my grandmother, my father and mother, and all my friends, yet if they had come to treat of peace they ought to have gone in peace." After a short interval, he again rose, and said, " If there be joy in the presence of the angels over one sinner that re- penteth, there is joy now, for we have a penitent sinner come before us. Call Mr. Bacon." Bacon, appearing, was compelled upon one knee, at the bar of the house, to con- fess his offence, and beg pardon of God, the king, and governor. . . . When Bacon had made his acknowledgment, the governor exclaimed, " God forgive you, I forgive you ;" repeating the words thrice. Colonel Cole, of the council, added, " and all that were with him." " Yea," echoed the governor, "and all that were with him." Sir William Berkley, starting up from his chair for the third time, ex- claimed, " Mr. Bacon, if you will live civilly but till next quarter court, I'll promise to restore you again to your place there" (pointing with his hand to Mr. Bacon's seat), 1.— M 23 266 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell he having, as has been already mentioned, been of the council before those troubles, and having been deposed by the governor's proclamation. But, instead of being obliged to wait till the quarter court. Bacon was restored to his seat on that very day ; and intelligence of it was hailed with joyful acclamations by the people in Jamestown. This took place on Saturday. Bacon was also promised a commission to go out against the Indians, to be delivered to him on the Monday following. But, being delayed or disappointed, a few days after (the Assembly being en- gaged in devising measures against the Indians) he escaped fi'om Jamestown. He conceived the governor's pretended generosity to be only a lure to keep him out of his seat in the house of burgesses, and to quiet the people of the upper country, who were hastening down to Jamestown to avenge all wrongs done him or his friends. . . . In a short time the governor, seeing all quiet, issued secret warrants to seize him again, intending probably to raise the militia, and thus prevent a rescue. Within three or four days after Bacon's escape, news reached James City that he was some thirty miles above, on the James Eiver, at the head of four hundi'ed men. Sir William Berkley summoned the York train-bands to defend Jamestown, but only one hundred obeyed the sum- mons, and they arrived too late, and one-half of them were favorable to Bacon. Expresses almost hourly brought tidings of his approach, and in less than four days he marched into Jamestown unresisted, at two o'clock p.m., and drew up his force (now amounting to six hundred men), horse and foot, in battle-array on the green in front of the State-house, and within gunshot. In half an hour the drum beat, as was the custom, for the Assembly to meet, and in less than thirty minutes Bacon advanced, with a file of fusileers on either hand, near to the corner Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 267 of the State-house, where he was met by the governor and council. Sir William Berkle}', dramatically baring his breast, cried out, " Here ! shoot me — 'fore God, fair mark ; shoot!" frequently repeating the words. Bacon replied, " No, may it please your honor, we will not hurt a hair of your head, nor of any other man's ; we are come for a commission to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so often promised, and now we will have it before we go." Bacon was walking to and fro between the tiles of his men, holding his left arm akimbo, and gesticulating violently with his right, he and the governor both like men distracted. In a few moments Sir William withdrew to his private apartment at the other end of the state- house, the council accompanying him. Bacon followed, frequently hurrying his hand from his sword-hilt to his hat ; and after him came a detachment of fusileers, who, with their guns cocked and presented at a window of the Assembly chamber, filled with faces, repeated in menacing tone, '■ We will have it, we will have it," for half a minute, when a well-known burgess, waving his handkerchief out at the window, exclaimed, three or four times, " You shall have it, you shall have it;" when, uncocking their guns, they rested them on the ground, and stood still, till Bacon returning, they rejoined the main body. It was said that Bacon had beforehand directed his men to fii'e in case he should draw his sword. In about an hour after Bacon re- entered the Assembly chamber and demanded a commis sion authorizing him to march out against the Indians. The Assembly went on to provide for the Indian war, and made Nathaniel Bacon, Jr., general and commander- in-chief, which was ratified by the governor and council. An act was also passed indemnifying Bacon and his party for their violent acts ; and a highly-applausive letter was 268 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell prepared, justifying Bacon's designs and proceedings, ad- dressed to the king and subscribed by the governor, council, and Assembly. Sir William Berkley at the same time com- municated to the house a letter addressed to his majesty, saying, " I have above thirty years governed the most flourishing country the sun ever shone over, but am now encompassed with rebellion like waters, in every respect like that of Masaniello, except their leader." [The new general, who found himself strongly supported by the Assembly and the colonists, at once proceeded with energy to fulfil the duties of his position.] His vigorous measures at once restored confidence to the planters, and they resumed their occupations. Bacon, at the head of a thousand men, marched against the Pamun- kics, killing many and destroying their towns. Mean- while the people of Gloucester, the most populous and loyal county, having been disarmed by Bacon, petitioned the governor for protection against the savages. Reani- mated by this petition, he again p)i'Oclaimed Bacon a rebel and a traitor, and hastened over to Gloucester. Summon- ing the train-bands of that county and Middlesex, to the number of twelve hundred men, he proposed to them to pursue and put down the rebel Bacon, — when the whole assembly unanimously shouted, " Bacon ! Bacon ! Bacon !" and withdrew from the field, still repeating the name of that popular leader, the Patrick Henry of his day, and leaving the aged cavalier governor and his attendants to themselves. The issue was now fairly joined between the people and the governor. . . . Bacon, before he reached the head of York River, hear- ing from Lawrence and Drumraond of the governor's movements, exclaimed, that " it vexed him to the heart that, while he was hunting wolves which were destrojnng innocent lambs, the governor and those with him should Campbell] THE BACON REBELLION. 269 pursue him in the rear with full cry ; and that he was like corn between two millstones, which would grind him to powder if he didn't look to it." He marched imme- diately back against the governor, who, finding himself abandoned, again, on the twenty-ninth of July, jjroclaimed Bacon a rebel, and made his escape, with a few friends, down* York River and across the Chesapeake Bay to Accomac, on the Eastern Shore. [A series of events of secondary importance succeeded, which we cannot particularize. It will suffice to say that the movement was diverted more and more from an expedition against the Indians to a civil war, in which the adherents of Bacon took strong ground against Berkley and advised his forcible deposal. A successful operation against the Baconites induced the governor to return to Jamestown, ^rom which the friends of Bacon retired.] During these events Bacon was executing his designs against the Indians. As soon as he had despatched Bland to Accomac, he crossed the James Eiver at his own house, at Curies, and surprising the Appomattox Indians, who lived on both sides of the river of that name, a little below the falls (now Petersburg), he burnt their town, killed a large number of the tribe, and dispersed the rest. . . . From the falls of the Appomattox, Bacon traversed the country to the southward, destroying many towns on the banks of the Nottoway, the Meherrin, and the Roanoke. His name had become so formidable that the natives fled everywhere before him, and, having nothing to subsist upon, save the spontaneous productions of the country, several tribes pei'ished, and they who survived were so reduced as to be never afterwards able to make any firm stand against the Long-knives, and gradually became tribu- tary to them. Bacon, having exhausted his provisions, had dismissed I. 23* 270 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell the greater part of his foi'ces before Lawrence, Drum- mond, Hansford, and the othef fugitives from Jamestown joined him. Upon receiving intelligence of the govern or's return, Bacon, collecting a force variously estimated at one hundred and fifty, three hundred, and eight hundred, harangued them on the situation of affairs, and marched back upon Jamestown, leading his Indian captives in tri- umph before him. The contending parties came now to be distinguished by the names of Rebels and Royalists. Finding the town defended by a palisade ten paces in width, running across the neck of the peninsula, he rode along the work and reconnoitred the governor's position. Then, dismounting from his horse, he animated his fatigued men to advance at once, and, leading them close to the palisade, sounded a defiance with the trumpet, and fired upon the garrison. The governor remained quiet, hoping that want of provisions would soon force Bacon to retire ; but he supplied his troops from Sir William Berkley's seat, at Greenspring, three miles distant. He afterwards complained that " his dwelling-house at Greenspring was almost ruined ; his household goods, and others of great value, totally plundered ; that he had not a bed to lie on ; two great beasts, three hundred sheep, seventy horses and mares, all his corn and provisions, taken away." Bacon adopted a singular stratagem, and one hardly compatible with the rules of chivalry. Sending out small parties of horse, he captured the wives of several of the principal loyalists then with the governor, and among them the lady of Colonel Bacon, Sr., Madame Bray, Ma- dame Page, and Madame Ballard, Upon their being brought into the camp. Bacon sends one of them into Jamestown to carry word to their husbands that his pur- pose was to place their wives in front of his men in case of a sally. Colonel Ludwell reproaches the rebels with t i 1 mV'^ -r ^«^-i^ RUINS OF THE OLD CHURCH-TOWER AT JAMESTOWN. Campbell] THE BACOS REBELLION. 271 "ravishing of women from their homes, and hurrying them about the country in their rude camps, often threat- ening them with death." But, according to another and more impartial authority, Bacon made use of the ladies only to complete his battery, and removed them out of harm's way at the time of the sortie. He raised by moon- light a circumvallation of trees, earth, and brushwood around the governoi-'s outworks. At daybreak next morn- ing the governor's troops, being fired upon, made a sortie ; but they were driven back, leaving their drum and their dead behind them. Upon the top of the work which he had thrown up, and where alone a sally could be made, Bacon exhibited the captive ladies to the views of their husbands and friends in the town, and kept them there until he completed his works. [As a result of these active proceedings, the followers of Berkley, though superior in numbers to those of Baicon, and well intrenched, hastily retired, leaving their antagonist master of the situation. Bacon at once determined to burn the town, so that the "rogues should harbor there no more." It was accordingly set on fire and laid in ashes. Jamestown, at this period, consisted of a church and some six- teen or eighteen well-built brick houses. Its population was about a dozen families, since all the houses were not inhabited.] Bacon now marched to York Eiver, and crossed at Tin- dall's (Gloucester) Point, in order to encounter Colonel Brent, who was marching against him from the Potomac with twelve hundred men. But the greater part of his men, hearing of Bacon's success, deserting their colors declared for him, " resolving, with the Persians, to go and worship the rising sun." Bacon, making his head-quarters at Colonel Warmer's, called a convention in Gloucester, and administered the oath to the people of that county, and began to plan another expedition against the Indians, or, as some report, against Accomac, when he fell sick of a 272 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Campbell dysentery brought on by exposure. Retiring to the house of a Dr. Pate, and lingering for some weeks, he died. Some of the loyalists afterwards reported that he died of a loathsome disease, and by a visitation of God ; which is disp)roven by T. M.'s Account, by that pubhshed in the Yirginia Gazette, and by the Report of the King's Com- missioners. Some of Bacon's friends suspected that he was taken off by poison ; but of this there is no proof . . . The place of Bacon's interment has never been dis- covered, it having been concealed by his friends, lest his remains should be ' insulted by the vindictive Berkley, in whom old age appears not to have mitigated the fury of the passions. According to one tradition, in order to screen Bacon's body from indignity, stones were laid on his coffin by his friend Lawrence, as was supposed ; according to others, it was conjectured that his bod}- had been buried in the bosom of the majestic York, where the winds and the waves might still repeat his requiem. [The death of Bacon ended the rebellion, though disastrous conse- quences to his adherents followed. Berkley sated his revengeful spirit upon those who fell into his hands, many of whom were executed. The governor had sent to England for troops, and employed them in executing his scheines of revenge. The Assembly at last insisted that these executions should cease. Nothing decisive was gained by the rehellion, yet it clearly showed the spirit of resistance to tyranny in the Virginians. The determination not to submit to tyranny, of which we have par- ticularized several instances in the colonies, declared itself in the Caro- linas at the same period. Several open revolts there took place, which may be briefly described. Many of the adherents of Bacon had taken refuge in North Carolina, where they were welcomed, and it is proba- ble that their influence intensified the democratic sentiment of the people, who soon after broke out into rebellion against the arbitrary revenue laws. A vessel from New England was seized as a smuggler, upon which the people flew to arms, and imprisoned the president of the colony and six of his council. ^ The people chose their own gov- Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 273 ernors for several years thereafter. In 1688 another revolt occurred against Seth Sothel, one of the proprietors, and governor of the prov- ince. He was tried for oppressing the people, and banished from the colony. Eevolts of a like character took place in South Carolina. Governor Colleton, who sought to carry out Locke's system of govern- ment, and to collect the rents claimed by the proprietors, drove the people into a rebellion. They took possession of the public records, and held an Assembly despite the governor, who thereupon called out the militia and proclaimed martial law. This increased the exaspera- tion of the colonists, and the governor was impeached and banished. He was succeeded by Seth Sothel, who had been banished from North Carolina. In 1692, after two years of tyranny, this governor was also deposed and banished. The " Grand Model" of government of Locke had by this time very effectually lost its potency.] COLONIAL HOSTILITIES. r. X. GARNEAU. [In previous articles we have briefly reviewed the history of the French in Canada, down to the futile expedition of Denonville against the Iroquois in 1687, and the severe reprisal of the Indians, in which they massacred the inhabitants of the island of Montreal and endan- gered the very existence of the colony. At this juncture Denonville was recalled, and Count de Trontenac sent ovit. The succeeding his- tory of the colony is largely one of war with the English colonists, in which the Indian allies of the hostile whites took active part. On the English side were the Iroquois, the most warlike and powerful of all the aborigines, of whom the French had made enemies upon their first entrance into the country. The French were supported by the Hurons and other Indians of Canada, and by the tribes of northern New England, while the southern New England tribes were allies of the English. 1ft The several wars which raged in Europe between France and Eng- land roused the colonies to invasions of one another's territory, in which the Indians gave full vent to their savage instincts in murder- ing the helpless settlers. King William's War, which continued from i.—s 274 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau 1689 to 1697, was marked by several such atrocities. At the very opening of the war, Dover, in New Hampshire, was attacked, and revenge taken upon Major Waldron, who had acted treacherously towards the Indians during King Philip's War. During the succeed- ing year occurred the massacre at Schenectady, which we have already described. Other settlements were assailed, and several of the English forts taken. In reprisal, an expedition under Sir William Phipps captured Port Eoyal, and essayed to conquer Quebec, but was driven oflf. At the same time a fruitless land-expedition was sent from New York against Montreal. The Indian depredations upon the English frontiers continued, the latest being an attack on Haverhill, Massachu- setts, in 1697, in which forty persons were killed or taken captive. Among these latter were a Mrs. Duston, her nurse, and a boy, who on their way to Canada attacked their captors while sleeping, killed ten out of twelve of them, and returned in safety to their friends. During this war the French attempted to punish the hostile Iroquois, and Frontenac marched into their territory, where he committed much damage. On his return, however, he was severely harassed by the Indians. In 1702 another war broke out between France and England, which continued till 1713. In America it was marked by the same atrocities as the previous war. The Iroquois were neutrals during most of this war, and New York was preserved from danger, the weight of the war falling on the New England colonies. In 1704 the town of Deerfield was captured by a French and Indian force, forty of the inhabitants killed, and one hundred and twelve captured, who were marched through the winter snows to Canada. Throughout the war the frontier settlements were continually harassed by the savage foe. In 1707 the English attacked Port Eoyal, but were repulsed. In 1710 it was again assailed, and captured, its name being changed to An- napolis, in honor of Queen Anne, and the province of Acadia, or Nova Scotia, was permanently added to the English possessions. In the succeeding year an extensive invasion of Canada was projected, which met with an unfortunate termination. The story of this expedition we select from Andrew Bell's translation of Garneau's " L'Histoire du Canada."] In spring, 1711, an expedition was got up to act in con- junction with such forces as the plantations could supply Gakneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 275 for the invasion of Canada. The fleet, under the orders of Admiral Sir Hovenden Walker, had companies of seven regiments of regulars on board, drafted from the army Marlborough was leading from victory to victory. The force was put under the charge of Brigadier-General Hill. Walker arrived in Boston harbor, June 25, where his presence was impatiently expected. The land-force was now augmented by the junction of the militias of New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, etc., which raised it to a total of six thousand five hundred infantry. The fleet now consisted of eighty-eight ships and transports. The army which was intended to act simultaneously with the ascent to Quebec by an advance on Montreal, and was now re- constituted, got ready to act, under the orders of General Nicholson. It was composed of four thousand Massachu- setts and other militia-men, and six hundred Iroquois. Having moved his corps to the banks of Lake George. Nicholson there awaited the event of the attack On Que- bec. Meantime, the invading fleet sailed from Boston. July 30. The opposing force of the Canadians was proportionally small, in number at least. It did not exceed five thousand men of all ages between fifteen and seventy, and included at the most five hundred savages. But Quebec was now in a better state for defence than ever it had been before, there being more than one hundred cannons mounted upon the works. The banks of the St. Lawrence immediately below the city were so well guarded that it would have been perilous to an enemy to land anywhere ; above it the invaders would hardly adventure. The garrison was carefully marshalled, and every man assigned to an ap- pointed place, with orders to repair to it as soon as the enemy's fleet appeared. But the elements were now the best defenders of Can- 276 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garxeaxj ada, which Providence seemed to have taken under his special protection. During the night of August 22, a storm from the southwest arose, accompanied bj^ a dense fog, in the Grulf of St. Lawrence ; and the hostile fleet was put in imminent jeopardy for a time. The admiral's ship barely escaped wreck upon breakers. Eight of the transports were driven ashore on the Ile-aux-CEufs, one of the Seven Islands, and nine hundred out of seventeen hundi-ed persons on board perished in the waves. Among the corpses strewed on the beach afterwards were found the bodies of a number of emigrants from Scotland, in- tended colonists for Anglicized Canada ; and among other waifs found at the same time were copies of a proclama- tion to the Canadians, in Queen Anne's name, asserting the suzerainty of Britain, in right of the discovery of their country by Cabot. Admiral Walker now altered his course, and rendez- voused with his scattered fleet, as soon as it could be col- lected, at Cape Breton, where he called a council of war, in which it was decided to renounce the enterprise. The British division of the fleet left for England, and the colo- nial vessels returned to Boston. But disasters ceased not to attend this ill-starred expedition ; for the Feversham, an English frigate of thirty-six guns, and three trans- ports, were lost when still in the Laurentian gulf; while the Edgar, of seventy guns, Walker's flag-ship, was blown up at Portsmouth, October 15, with four hundred men on board. [A strong Canadian force was now collected at Montreal, in prepa- ration for Nicholson's advance. No advance was made, however, though the militia were kept under arms, on guard against a Canadian invasion. But the Canadians, just now, had work enough at home. The Outagamis, a warlike tribe from beyond Lake Michigan, had moved eastward to the locality of Detroit, under British instigation. GARNEAtJ] COLONIAL HOSTILITIES. 277 It was their purpose to burn the settlement and kill all the French. In this they were joined by the Mascoutins. On the other hand, some six hundred warriors of friendly tribes were banded in defence of the French, and forced the hostiles to take a defensive attitude.] The Outagamis and Mascoutins took refuge in an in- trenched camp they had formed near the French fort. M. Dubuisson, the governor, finding that they presented so imposing a front, was willing that they should retire peacefully to their villages on seeing that their hostile intents were anticipated and provided against ; but his native allies would not allow of this, and proceeded to invest their fastness. This was so well defended, how- ever, that the assailants became dispirited, and wished to retire from the contest ; but Dubuisson, now encouraging them to remain, turned the siege into a blockade. In a short time provisions, even water, failed the besieged ; and when any of them issued from the enclosm-e to procure the latter, they were set on by their foes, killed on the spot, or burnt alive to make a savage holiday. The beleaguered tried, by every means, to detach the native auxiliaries present from the French interest ; but all in vain. They then sent envoys to the governor to crave a truce of two days, to enable their foragers to pro- cure food. This singular request was refused, but had better been accorded ; for in revenge the Outagamis shot fire-arrows against the straw-roofed houses of the village, which were thereby entirely consumed. The cannon of the fort avenged this act of desperation. Already from three to four score of the besieged were dead of hunger and thirst, and the air w^as tainted with putrefaction. A third deputation came to implore quarter. Pemousa, a chief, who brought with him his wife and children as hos- tages, adjui-ed the governor to " take pity on his flesh" and on the other women and children about to be put at I. 24 278 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau French discretion. Some of the allied chiefs present at this piteous scene, instead of being moved b}' it, coolly jjroposed to Dubuisson to cut down four of the envoys, who, they alleged, were the chief defenders of the place. This much, at least, was refused. The besieged, despairing of success, and hopeless of quarter if they surrendered, prepared to take advantage of any moment of relaxed vigilance in their besiegers, and try to escape. One stormy night they succeeded in this attempt, but, exhausted by the privations they had under- gone, halted on peninsular ground near St. Clair, whither they were soon followed. They intrenched themselves again, stood a siege of four days more, and then gave in. Not one of the men escaped, and it is ver}^ doubtful whether any of the women were sj^ared ; but the con- temporary reports of what passed at the time are in dis- accord on this point. [The remnant of the Outagami or Fox nation, however, long car- ried on a harassing warfare with the French, and rendered the routes between the posts in Canada and those on the Mississippi so dangerous as to be almost impassable. The peace of Utrecht, in 1713, put an end to this desolating war. During the succeeding thirty years but few events of importance occurred in the English colonies or in Canada. It was a much-needed era of tranquillity, during which the colonies grew rapidly in population and importance. The Canadian settlements were principally confined to the St. Lawrence region, from Quebec to Montreal. Farther west there were detached forts and stations, with a weak settlement at Detroit, but nothing which could properly be called a colony. Yet the spirit of exploration of the French continued. In 1731 an effort was made to reach the Pacific overland. M. Veren- drye, a trader with the Indians, who had learned much from the West- ern tribes of the country that lay beyond, imdertook an exploring ex- pedition westward. He proceeded to Lake Superior, where his trading interests kept him till 1733. Meanwhile, some of his people made their way to the Lake of the Woods, and thence to Lake Winnipeg, extending their journey to the point of branching of the river Sas- Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 279 kutchewan. In 1738 the explorers reached the country of the Man- dans, and in 1742 followed the upper Missouri as far as the Yellow- stone. Finally, on January 1, 1743, two of the sons of M. Verendrye found themselves in front of the great range of the Kocky Mountains, sixty years in advance of the discovery of this mighty mountain- system by the American explorers Lewis and Clarke. In 1744 another war, known in America as " King George's War," broke out between France and England, and at once brought the colonists into hostile relations. The most important event of this war was the capture of Louisburg, a powerful stronghold founded by the French in 1720 on the island of Cape Breton and intended to be made impregnable. The town grew until it contained several thousand in- habitants and was a mile in length. "We extract from Garneau an account of its siege and capture.] Fruuce and Britain were now on the eve of war, chiefly for the good pleasure of the German king of the latter, as the chief of a petty Continental principality, who set about trimming what was called the "balance of power in Europe." This had been deranged, it appeared, by the pai't which the French king had taken against the empress Theresa when a coalition was formed against her by Prus- sia, Bavaria, Saxony, etc., in Germany, with Spain and Sar- dinia. In January, 1745, a treaty of alliance was signed between the empress (already at war with the French), the King of Great Britain, the King of Poland, the Elec- tor of Saxony, and the United States of Holland, against France. As on former occasions, the colonial dependencies of the two great nations had perforce to go to war also, whether they understood the points in dispute which led to hos- tilities between their mother-countries or not. There was also a " balance of power" between New France and New England, getting more and more difficult every year satis- factorily to adjust. Canada, however, like the snorting war-horse, seemed to scent the coming hostilities while 280 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau yet distant; for her administrators had already repaired and munitioned all the frontier posts, especially Fort St. Frederic and Fort Niagara. The defensive works of Quebec, also, were augmented. Other demonstrations were made, about the same time, by the Canadian gov- ernment and its colonists, which showed that a continued state of peace with the British plantations was neither expected nor desired. After the belligerents wei^e in full tilt in Europe, for the king of Britain and his favorite son were battling, not with much honor to either, on that eternal fighting-ground, Flanders, there was no appearance, for a time, of either government sending any expedition against the Noi"th American dependencies of the other. . . . During its early stages the war in America between the two rival races w'as carried on almost entirely without European aid. In a few months after the declaration of war, the Amer- ican waters swarmed with French privateers. Sevei'al were equipped at Louisburg, Cape Breton, with amazing despatch, and made a great number of prizes before ves- sels of w^ar could arrive to protect the British colonial shipping. Louisburg became, in all respects, a kind of hornets' nest in regard to New England, its trade and fisheries, which it was now determined to dig out if pos- sible. Meanwhile, M. Duquesnel, governor of Cape Breton, embarked part of the garrison of Louisburg with some militia and made a descent upon the settlement of Canso, in Acadia, which he burnt, and made the garrison and settlers prisoners of war. He then summoned Annapolis, but was deterred from investing it by the arrival of a reinforcement from Massachusetts. Duquesnel returned to Louisburg, where he died shortly thereafter. Gov- ernor Shirley had for some time conceived the project of Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 281 taking possession of Cape Breton, now rightly regarded as the seaward bulwark of Canada, and a highly-impor- tant post as a safeguard to the French fisheries and to American trade. The fortifications of Louisburg, the capi- tal, even in their uncompleted state, had taken twent3"-five years to construct, at a cost, it was reported, of thirt}- million livres (nearly one million five hundred thousand pounds sterling). They comprised a stone rampart nearly forty feet high, with embrasures for one hundred and forty-eight cannon, had several bastions, and strong out- works; and on the land-side was a fosse fully fourscore feet broad. The garrison, as reported afterwards by the French, was composed of six hundred regulars and eight hundred armed inhabitants, commanded by M. Ducham- bois. Upon the same authority we may mention here that at this time there were not more than one thousand soldiers in garrison, altogether, from the lower St. Law- rence to the eastern shore of Lake Erie. [At a council held by Governor Shirley, it was decided that an effort to take Louisburg would be too costly and hazardous. But the colonists, learning of the scheme, were so enthusiastic that the council was forced into it. In a few weeks more than four thousand militia were raised in the several colonies, and placed under the command of a New England merchant, named Pepperel. The expedition sailed about the last of March, and reached Canso on April 5, 1745.] Colonel Pepperel having sent some shallops to ascertain whether the coast was clear of ice, and the report being favorable, the expedition resumed its voyage, and a disem- barkation on Cape Breton Island was begun at Chapeau Eouge on the 27th of April. The garrison was, through the promptitude of the invaders, taken completely by sur- prise. The descent could not have been effected much earlier with safety ; for till the end of March or beginning of April the ocean in that region is covered with thick I. 24* 282 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Garneau fogs, while both the seaboard and the harbors of Cape Breton are choked with thick-ribbed ice. By this time Admiral Warren arrived with a few ships, and more were expected. His seamen assisted during fourteen days in dragging a siege-train of ordnance, through marshy ground, to the neighborhood of Louis- burg, which was thought at first to be too strongly de- fended on the seaAvard side to be confronted by the fleet. Meanwhile, the garrison was in a state of revolt, having demurred to being employed to put the works into a proper state, a duty which had been too long postponed. The men had other grievances besides, being ill paid, and otherwise badly treated ; but, their feelings of military honor being appealed to, they resumed their arms and prepared to defend the place. During the night of May 13, Mr. Vaughan, son of the lieutenant-governor of New Hampshire, who knew the localities well, having visited the place the j^ear before, landed with four hundred men, marched to the northeast part of the bay, and fired some buildings filled with brandy, etc., and naval stores. A party in a neighboring fort, thinking probably that the incendiaries were the van of a large attacking force, quitted their post and took refuge in the town. Next morning Yaughan was able to sui'prise a battery and hold possession of it until the arrival of a reinforcement. A great mischance for the French now hastened the fall of the place. La Vigilante, a ship of sixty-four guns, with five hundred and sixty soldiers and supplies for the gar- I'ison on board, was captured by Admiral Warren. Had this succor reached its destination, it is very doubtful whether Pepperel could have captured the strongest for- tress in America, and which was reported to be impreg- nable. The next operation was not so favorable to the Garneau] colonial HOSTILITIES. 283 besiegers, who, having tried, with four hundred men, to carry a battery on the island of St. John, which protected the entry of the harbor, were driven off, leaving sixty dead, and one hundred and sixteen of their men, wounded or whole, in the hands of the French. But this gleam of success only delayed the certain capture of the place, now that all further hope of succor from without was gone, and its defenders were as discouraged as they were malcon- tent before. In a word, Duchambois capitulated, and was allowed to march out with the honors of war. In terms of the capitulation, the garrison, and about tAvo thousand people, the entire population of Louisburg, were embarked m British transports and landed at Brest. Great was the exultation, naturally enough, at the suc- cess of this expedition thus admirably planned and spir- itedly executed. Messrs. Shirley and Pepperel wei'e re- warded with baronetcies ; and the British Parliament voted a sum of money to repay the cost incurred by the colo- nists in getting up the enterprise. The discouragement in New France for the loss of Cape Breton was commen- sm'ate with the elation at its capture in ISTew England and the other Anglo-American provinces. [An effort was made by the French to recapture the place, but their fleet was scattered by a storm, while a deadly epidemic broke out among the soldiers and marines. Acadia was at the same time assailed by the Canadians, with considerable success. A force of five hundred New England militia, sent to oppose them, was attacked by the French and Indians, and nearly half the men killed or wounded, and the rest forced to surrender.] Beginning with the autumn of 1745, the frontiers of the British plantations themselves were cruelly ravaged in twentj'-seven successive raids of the Canadians during three years. Fort Massachusetts, fifteen miles above Fort St. Frederic, surrendered to M. Eigaud, who, with seven 284 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens hundred colonists and savages, devastated the country for fifty miles beyond. M. Corne de St. Luc attacked Fort Clinton, and signally defeated an American corps. Sara- toga was taken, and its people massacred. Fort Bridgman was taken by De Lery. In a word, the frontier-line, from Boston to Albany, being no longer tenable, the inhabitants fled into the interior, and left their lands at the discretion of the enemy. [A treaty of peace was concluded October 7, 1748. By its stipula- tions the British and French mutually gave up whatever territory each had taken, and, greatly to the dissatisfaction of the English colonists. Cape Breton, with its fortress, was surrendered to its old masters, and the vigorous effort of the New-Englanders thus rendered useless. From that time peace prevailed in Europe, but hardly in America, hostilities scarcely ceasing during the interval from the treaty to the outbreak of the Fi-ench and Indian War.] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. WILLIAM BACON STEVENS. [While the Northern colonies were at war with the French and their Indian allies, the Southern were similarly at war with the Span- iards of Florida, and the Indian wars of the North had their coun- terparts in the South. The troubles with the Indians of Virginia we have already described.. Of the Indians of North Carolina, those in contact with the settlers rapidly disappeared, destroyed by strong drink and other accompaniments of civilization. The settlers came next into collision with more remote tribes, the Tuscaroras and the Corees, who showed decided symptoms of hostility and organized a secret attack. On the night of October 2, 1711, they suddenly fell upon the settle- ments and massacred one hundred and thirty persons. A war ensi;ed, the whites being aided by a large body of friendly Indians from the more southern tribes. In 1713 the Tuscaroras were besieged in their fort, and eight hundred taken prisoners. The remainder migrated IMSilMII— IK^*- iii n i«.. i . -t»H Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 285 north, and joined their kindred, the Iroquois of New York. Peace was concluded with the Corees in 1715. South Carolina, when settled, contained comparatively few of the aborigines. A long and destructive war between two tribes, and a fatal epidemic which afterwards prevailed, had decimated the Indians, and left their lands open to the settlers. In 1702, during the war of England against France and Spain which broke out that year. Gov- ernor Moore of Carolina organized an expedition against the Spanish settlement of St. Augustine in Florida. He proceeded by sea, while Colonel Daniel led a land-expedition of twelve hundred men, half of whom were Indians. The Spanish fortification proving too strong for their means of assault, Daniel was sent to Jamaica for siege-guns. During his absence two Spanish ships appeared off the harbor, and Moore, in a panic, abandoned his fleet and hastily retreated. Daniel, on his return, stood in towards the harbor, and narrowly escaped cap- ture. This useless and expensive expedition gave great dissatisfaction to the people of Carolina. It was followed by a successful expedition against the Appalachian Indians, allies of Spain. They were com- pletely defeated, their towns burned, and their whole province made English territory. In 1706 a French and Spanish fleet appeared before Charleston. But the city was valiantly defended, and the invaders driven off with loss. A general Indian war broke out in 1715, comprising numerous tribes, the Yamassees at their head. For a while the colony was threat- ened with destruction. The frontier settlements were ruined. Fori Royal abandoned, and Charleston in serious peril. At length the set- tlers made head, drove back the enemy, and on the banks of the Sal- kehatchie gained a complete victory. The Yamassees were driven from their territory, and retired to Florida. In 1719 a revolution against the Proprietors broke out in South Carolina : the settlei-s refused to pay their exorbitant claims, and in the name of the king proclaimed James Moore governor. The difiiculty was settled in 1729, when seven of the eight Proprietors sold out to the king, and the two Caro- linas were separated and became royal governments. The colony of Georgia was first devised in 1732, by James Ogle- thorpe, an English philanthropist, as an asylum for the poor of Eng- land and for the oppressed Protestants of all countries. He reached America in February, 1733, with one hundred and twenty emigrants, and planted a settlement on the site of Savannah. A treaty of peace and friendship was at once concluded with the Creek Indians, a power- 286 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens ful neighboring confederacy. The colony rapidly increased in num- bers. But trouble soon arose with the Spaniards of Florida, who claimed that the English were intruding on their territory. Hostilities being threatened, Oglethorpe returned to England, and brought out a regiment of six hundred men for the defence of his frontier. Soon afterwards, in 1739, war broke out between England and Spain, and Oglethorpe invaded Florida. He had with him five hundred men of his regiment, with other troops, and Indian allies. Several Span- ish forts were taken, but St. Augustine was boldly defended, and, after being nearly reduced by famine, obtained supplies from vessels that ran the blockade of the English fleet. This destroyed all hopes of success, and Oglethorpe returned to Georgia. Two years later, the Spaniards, in reprisal, invaded Georgia with a large fleet and a numer- ous army. Oglethorpe, with a much smaller force, withdrew to his fort at Frederica, on St. Simon's Island, near the mouth of the Alta- maha River. The interesting story of this invasion we extract from the " History of Georgia," by Eev. "William Bacon Stevens.] In May [1742] the armament destined for the conquest of Georgia, consisting of fifty-six vessels and about seven thousand men, left Havana for St. Augustine. One of their large vessels, with one hundred and fifty men, was lost in passing the Moro castle ; and soon after the fleet was dispersed by a storm. ... Of the arrival of this force in St. Augustine, Oglethorpe was informed by his Indian spies, deserters, and the letters of Captain Hamar; and he addressed himself at once to the task of preparing for their attack. [The Spanish fleet was unsuccessful in its first eff"orts against the English forts.] On the 28th [of June] the Spanish fleet, largely rein- forced, again appeared oflf St. Simon's bar, and, having taken the bearings and soundings, lay ofi" and on, waiting for a fair wind, to run up to Frederica. All was now activity on St. Simon's. The general raised another troop of rangers, armed the planters, extended his fortifications, dismantled many of the small vessels, and from them Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 287 rigged out a merchant-ship, called the Success, with an armament of twenty-two guns, which he placed under the command of Captain Thompson. . . . The following day [July 5], favored by a strong easterly wind and a flood tide, the squadron of thirty- [fifty-] six vessels, comprising one of twenty-four guns, two ships of twenty guns, two large scows of fourteen guns, four schooners, four sloops, and the rest half-galleys, entered St. Simon's harbor. . . . For four hours the vessels and two small batteries of the English maintained the unequal contest; but the fleet was too numerous, and they passed up the river with a leading breeze, sinking one guard schooner and disabling several of the trading-craft. [The English now spiked the guns and destroyed the munitions at Fort St. Simon's, and withdrew to Frederica. The Spanish vessels passed up the river, and landed about five thousand men four miles below Frederica. These marched down and took possession of the dismantled fort.] They made their camp at the fort which he [Oglethorpe] bad abandoned, and, hoisting the bloody flag on the com- modore's ship, erected a battery and planted in it twenty eighteen-pounders. Among the troops landed were a regiment of artillery, a regiment of dismounted dragoons, a regiment of negroes, officered by negroes, in the style and pay of grenadiers, and a regiment of mulattoes, besides the Havana battalion, the Havana militia, and the St. Augustine forces. On the seventh a part of this force was put in motion, and reached within a mile of Frederica, when they were discovered by the rangers, and the alarm given. Oglethorpe immediately advanced with a party of Indians, rangers, and the Highland company, that were then on parade, ordering the regiment to follow, being resolved to engage them in the defiles of the wood before they could get out and deploy in the open savannah. He 288 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens charged at the head of his force with such effect that nearly all of the party, consisting of one hundred and twenty-five of their best woodsmen, and fortj^-five Indians, were either killed, wounded, or taken prisoners. . . . The pursuit was continued several miles, to an open meadow or savannah, upon the edge of which he posted three platoons of the regiment and a company of Highland foot, so as to be covered by the woods from the enemy, who were obliged to pass through the meadow under the English fire. Hastening back to Frederica, he got in readiness the rangers and marines ; but scarcely were they in marching order when he heard firing in the direction of his ambushed troops, and, speeding thither, met two of the platoons, who, in the smoke and drifting rain, had retreated before the advance of Don Antonio Barba, who, with one hundred grenadiers and two hundred infantry, consisting of Indians and negroes, had pushed into the meadow and drove out the ambuscade witb loud huzzas and rolling drums. The soldiers informed Oglethorpe that all his force was routed ; but, finding one platoon and a company of rangers missing, and still hearing firing in the direction of the woods, he ordered the ofiicers to rally their men and follow him. In the mean time this platoon and company of rangers, under the command of Lieutenants Sutherland and Mac- kay, instead of retreating with their comrades, no sooner reached the wood than by a skilfully-executed detour they gained the rear of the pursuing enemj^, and, at a j^oint where the road passed from the forest to the open marsh across a small semicircular cove, planted themselves in ambuscade in the thick j^almettoes by which this narrow pass was nearly surrounded. Scarcely had they secreted themselves near this defile, when the Spaniards, on their return, marched out of the Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 289 wood, and, supposing themselves secure from attack, pro- tected as they were on the one side by an open morass and on the other by the crescent-shaped hedge of pahnet- toes and underwood, they stacked their arms and yielded themselves to repose. Sutherland and Mackay, who from their hiding-places had anxiously watched all their move- ments, now raised the signal of attack, — a Highland cap upon a sword, — and the soldiers poured in upon the un- suspecting enemy a well-delivered and most deadly tire. Volley succeeded volley, and the sand was strewed with the dead and dying. A few of the Spanish officers at- tempted, though in vain, to re-form their broken ranks ; discipline was gone, orders were unheeded, safety alone was sought ; and when, with a Highland shout of triumph, the platoon burst among them with levelled bayonet and flashing claymore, the panic-stricken foe fled in every di- rection, — some to the marsh, where they mired, and were taken, — some along the defile, where they were met by the tomahawk and the broadsword, — and some into the thicket, where they became entangled and lost ; and a few only escaped to their camp. Their defeat was complete. Barba was taken, after being mortally wounded ; another captain, a lieutenant, two sergeants, two drummers, and one hundred and sixty privates, were killed, and a captain and nineteen men were taken prisoners. This was a feat of arms as brilliant as it was successful, and won for the gallant troops the highest praise. Oglethorpe, with the two platoons, did not reach the scene of this action, which has ever since borne the appropriate name of " Bloody Marsh," until the victory was achieved ; and, to show his sense of their services, he promoted the brave young offi- cers who had gained it, on the very field of their valor. [The retreating enemy were pursued into their camp. On the next day Oglethorpe withdrew his forces to Frederica. The misfortunes of I.— N t 25 290 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Stevens the Spaniards caused dissensions among their leaders, learning of which, Oglethorpe resolved to surprise them by a night attack.] For this purpose he marched down, on the twelfth July, five hundred men, and, leaving them within a mile of the Spanish quarters, went forward at night with a small party to reconnoitre, intending to surprise them, but was pre- vented b}" the treachery of a Frenchman among Captain Carr's marines, who, firing his musket, sounded the alarm, and, favored by the darkness, deserted to the enemy. Find- ing himself thus discovered, the general distributed the drums about the wood, to represent a large foi"ce, and ordered them to beat the grenadiers' march, which they did for half an hour, and then, all being still, noiselessly returned to Frederica. Aware of his weakness, and fearing that the disclosures which the Frenchman might make would embolden them to surround and destroy him, which their superior force by land and sea easily enabled them to do, he devised an ingenious stratagem to defeat his information and retrieve the effects of his desertion. The next day he prevailed with a prisoner, and gave him a sum of money, to carry a letter privately and deliver it to that Frenchman who had deserted. This letter was wintten in French, as if from a friend of his, telling him he had received the money ; that he should strive to make the Spaniards believe the English were weak ; that he should undertake to pilot up their boats and galleys, and then bring them under the woods where he knew the hidden batteries were ; and that if he could bring that about, he should have double the reward he had already received ; but if he failed in thus decoying them under the guns of the water-battery, to use all his influence to keep them at least three days more at Fort St. Simon's, as within that time, according to advices just received, he should be reinforced by two thousand in- Stevens] THE SPANISH INVASION OF GEORGIA. 291 fantry and six men-of-war, which had already sailed from Charleston ; and, by way of postscript, he was cautioned against mentioning that Ad7niral Yernon was about to make a descent upon St. Augustine. The Spanish prisoner got into the camp, and was immediately carried before the genera], Don Manuel de Montiano. He w^as asked how he escaped, and whether he had any letters, but, denjdng his having any, was strictly searched, and the letter found in his possession. Under a promise of pardon, he confessed that he had received money to deliver it to the Frenchman, for the letter was not directed. The Frenchman denied his knowing anything of its contents, or having received any money, or having had any correspondence with Ogle- thorpe, and vehemently protested that he was not a spy. [The contents of the captured letter seriously perplexed the Spanish commander, for whom the Frenchman had acted as a spy among the English. Most of the council looked on him as a double spy, believed the information of the letter, and advised an immediate retreat. "While the council grew warm in their debate, word was brought to the com- mander that three vessels had been seen oft' the bar. Supposing this to be part of the threatened fleet, the council no longer doubted the truth of the letter, and resolved to fly before they should be hemmed in by sea and land. They set fire to the fort, and hastily embarked, aban- doning a quantity of their military stores in their hurry to escape. Oglethorpe followed them with the vessels at his command, and has- tened the rapidity of their flight.] Thus the vigilance of Oglethorpe, the skilfulness of his plans, the determined spirit of resistance, the carnage of Bloody Marsh, the havoc done to the enemy's ships, and his ingenious stratagem to defeat the designs of the French deserter, saved Georgia and Carolina from falling into the hands of the Spaniards. The force employed by the Span- iards in this invasion comprised . . . over five thousand men, commanded by Montiana, governor of St. Augustine, and brought to Georgia in fifty-six vessels. The command 292 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth of Oglethorpe consisted of only six hundred and fifty-t-vvo men, including Indians and militia. The triumph of Ogle- thorpe was complete. For fifteen days, with only two ships and six hundred men, he had baffled the Spanish gen- eral with fifty-six vessels and five thousand men, and at last comi^elled him to retreat, with the loss of several sail, scores of his best troops, and much of his provisions, mu- nitions, and artillery. The repulse of such a formidable invasion by such a handful of troops is unparalleled in colonial history. [The news of this victory was received with universal joy in the North, and Oglethorpe was warmly congratulated on his victory by the governors of the other English provinces. In the succeeding year an attack was made on St. Augustine by an army under Oglethorpe. This expedition proved unsuccessful. There were no further move- ments of invasion, though Georgia experienced annoyance from the Florida Indians, who were stirred up by Spanish hostility.] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. MARY L. BOOTH. [The witchcraft delusion of Salem had its counterpart in an equally baseless epidemic of suspicion and cruelty in New York, of suffi- cient importance to call for special consideration. The only other event of marked importance in that city, between the Leisler rebellion and the French and Indian War, was a conflict between the demo cratic and aristocratic parties in 1732. These parties divided the prov- ince, and were in violent opposition. The editor of a popular journal was imprisoned and sued for libel for an attack upon the measures of the governor and council. He was acquitted upon trial, and Andrew Hamilton, one of his defendei-s, was presented with an elegant gold box by the magistrates, for his defence of popular rights and the lib- erty of the press. The other occurrence referred to, the negro plot Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 293 of 1741, which for a while threw the city into an unreasoning panic, is fully described in Mary L. Booth's " History of the City of New York," from which we extract its leading particulars.] The negro plot of the city of New York will long con- tinue to be classed in the foremost rank of popular delu- sions, even exceeding in its progress and its fearful denoue- ment the celebrated Popish Plot concocted by Titus Gates. At this distance, it is difficult to ascertain how many grains of truth were mingled in the mass of prejudice, or to discover the wild schemes which may have sprung up in the brains of the oppressed and excitable negroes, but certain it is that nothing can justify the wholesale panic of a civilized community, or the indiscriminate imprison- ment and execution of scores of ignorant beings without friends or counsel, on no other evidence than the incohe- rencies of a few wretches more degraded than they, sup- ported by the horror of a terror-struck imagination. We shall endeavor to follow the development of this singular plot clearly and simplj', leaving the reader to draw his own inference from the facts and to determine how much credence should be given the testimony. At this time New York contained about ten thousand inhabitants, nearly one-fifth of whom were negro slaves. Since the first introduction of slavery into the province in the days of Wilhelm Kieft, it had increased and flourished to an alarming extent. Every householder who could afford it was surrounded by negroes, who were contemptu- ously designated as " the black seed of Cain," and deprived not only of their liberty, but also of the commonest rights of humanity. . . . The ordinances [against them] were of the most stringent character. " All blacks were slaves," says a late historian, " and slaves could not be witnesses against a freeman. They were incapable of buying any- thing, even the minutest necessary of life; they were pun- I. 25* 294 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth ishable by master or mistress to any extent short of life or limb; as often as three of them were found together, they were punished with forty lashes on the bare back ; and the 8ame legal liability attended the walking with a club out- riide the master's grounds without a permit. Two justices might inflict any punishment short of death or amputation for a blow or the smallest assault upon a Christian or a Jew." Such was the spirit of the laws of the times. It had been the constant policy, both of the Dutch and English governments, to encourage the importation of slaves as much as possible ; the leading merchants of the city were engaged in the traffic, which was regarded by the public as strictly honorable, and at the time of which we speak New York was literally swarming with negroes, and presented all the features of a present* Southern city, with its calaboose on the Commons and its market-place at the foot of "Wall Street. The people were not blind to the possible danger from this oppressed yet powerful host that was silently gathering in their midst, and the slight- est suspicious movement on the part of the negroes was sufficient to excite their distrust and alarm. Since the supposed plot of 1712, of which we have already spoken, a growing fear of the slaves had pervaded the city, and the most stringent measures had been adopted to prevent their assemblages and to keep them under strict surveil- lance. But it was difficult to restrain the thieving pro- pensities of the negroes; petty thefts were constantly committed, and it was one of these that first paved the way to the real or supposed discovery of a plot to murder the inhabitants and take possession of the city. On the 14th of March, 1741, some goods and silver were stolen from the house of a merchant named Eobert Hogg, * 1859. Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 295 on the corner of Broad and Mill or South William Streets. The police immediately set to work to discover the thieves, and, suspicion having fallen upon John Hughson, the keeper of a low negro tavern on the shores of the North Eiver, his house was searched, but to no effect. Soon after, an indentured servant-girl of Hughson's, bj' the name of Mar}' Burton, told a neighbor that the goods were really hidden in the house, but that Hughson would kill her if he knew she had said so. This rumor soon came to the ears of the authorities, who at once arrested Mary Burton and lodged her in the city jail, promising her her freedom if she would confess all that she knew about the matter. [On a hearing, Mary Burton charged a negro named Cfesar with complicity in the robbery, and he and another shive, named Prince, were arrested and imprisoned. Shortly afterwards the governor's house at the fort took fire and burned to the ground. Other fires took place in rapid succession, and there spread among the alarmed inhab- itants a rumor that the negroes had plotted to burn the city. This suspicion soon took the form of certainty. Some free negroes had recently been brought into the port, as the crew of a Spanish prize vessel, and had been sold as slaves. They were exasperated by this harsh usage, and indulged in murmurs and threats. ' One of them being questioned about a tire, his answers seemed evasive, and " Take up the Spanish negroes !" became the instant cry. They were at once arrested and thrown into prison.] The magistrates met the same afternoon to consult about the matter, and while they were still in session another fire broke out in the roof of Colonel Philipse's storehouse. The alarm became universal ; the negroes were seized indiscriminately and thrown into prison, — among them many who had just helped to extinguish the fire. People and magistrates were alike panic-struck, and the rumor gained general credence that the negroes had plotted to burn the city, massacre the inhabitants, and effect a o-eneral revolution. 296 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth On the 11th of April, 1741, the Common Council as- sembled, and oifered a reward of one hundred pounds and a full pardon to any conspirator who would reveal his knowledge of the plot, with the names of the incendiaries. Many of the terrified inhabitants removed with their household goods and valuables from what they began to deem a doomed city, paying exorbitant prices for vehicles and assistance. The city was searched for strangers and suspicious persons, but none were found, and the negroes were examined without effect. Cuff Philipse,* who had been among those arrested, was proved to have been among the most active in extinguishing the fire at his master's house, 3'et he was held in prison to await further develop- ments. [Before the grand jury, which soon after met, Mary Burton deposed that she had overheard a plot to burn the city and kill the whites. Hughson was then to be governor, and Cuff king. Peggy Carey, an Irishwoman who lived in Hughson's house, was charged with com- plicity in the plot. She was convicted of having received and secreted the stolen goods, and was sentenced to death along with Prince and Caesar.] Terrified at the prospect of a speedy death, the wi-etched Peggy endeavored to avert her fate by grasping the means of rescue which had before been offered her, and begged for a second examination, and, this being granted her, confessed that meetings of negi'oes had been held in the last December at the house of John Romme, a tavern- keeper near the new Battery, of the same stamp with Hughson, at which she had been present, and that Eomme had told them that if they would set fire to the city, mas- sacre the inhabitants, and bring the plunder to him, he would carry them to a strange country and give them all * The negroes were familiarly called by the surnames of their masters. Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 297 their liberty. This confession was so evidently vamped up to save herself from the gallows that even the magis- trates hesitated to believe it. Yet Cuff Philipse, Brash Jay, Curagoa Dick, Csesar Pintard, Pati-ick English, Jack Beasted, and Cato Moore, all of whom she had named in her confession, were brought before her and identified as conspirators. Eomme absconded, but his wife was arrested and committed to prison, and the accused were locked up for further examination. Upon this, the terrified negroes began to criminate each other, hoping thereby to save themselves from the fate that awaited them. But these efforts availed them nothing, any more than did the con- fession of the miserable Peggy, who was executed at last, vainly denj^iug with her dying breath her former accu- sations. In the mean time several fires had occurred at Hackensack, and two negroes, suspected of being the in- cendiaries, were condemned and burnt at the stake, though not a particle of evidence was found against them. On Monday, the 11th of May, Caesar and Prince, the first victims of the negro plot, were hung on a gallows erected on the little island in the Fresh Water Pond, de- nying to the last all knowledge of the conspiracy, though they admitted that they had really stolen the goods. Hughson and his wife were tried and found guilty, and, with Peggy Carey, were hanged on a gibbet erected on the East Eiver shore, near the corner of Cherry and Catharine streets. . . . Cuff Philipse and Quack were next brought to trial, a negro boy named Sawney appear- ing as witness against them. This boy was at first ar- rested and brought before the magistrates, when he denied all knowledge of the conspiracy. He was told, in reply, that if he would tell the truth he would not be hanged. To tell the truth had now come to be generally understood to mean the confession of a plot for burning the town. 298 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth [The frightened boy told a tissue of doubtful tales, on the strength of which the accused negroes were tried for their lives. All the law- yers of the city were on the side of the prosecution, leaving the prisoners without counsel.] Ignorant of the forms of law, and terrified at the pros- pect of their impending danger, it is not strange that their bewildered and contradictory statements were construed by their learned adversaries into evidences of their guilt. Quack and Cuffee were found guilty, and sentenced to be burned at the stake on the 3d of June. On the day appointed, the fagots were piled in a grassy valley in the neighborhood of the present Five Points, and the wretched victims led out to execution. The spot was thronged with impatient spectators, eager to witness the terrible tragedy. Terrified and trembling, the poor wi'etches gladly availed themselves of their last chance for life, and, on being questioned by their masters, con- fessed that the plot had originated with Hughson, that Quack's wife was the pei-son who had set fire to the fort, he having been chosen for the task by the confederated negroes, and that Mary Burton had spoken the truth and could name many more conspirators if she pleased. As a reward, they were reprieved until the further pleasure of the governor should be known. But the impatient popu- lace, which had come out for a spectacle, would not so easily be balked of its prey. Ominous mutteriiigs re- sounded round the pile, with threats of evil import, and the sheriff" was ordered to proceed with his duty. Terri- fied by these menaces, he dared not attempt to take the prisoners back to the jail ; and the execution went on. "Despite their forced confessions, the terrible pile was lighted, and the wretched negroes pei"ished in the flames, knowing that, with their last breath, they had doomed ♦^■heir fellows to share their fate in vain. I •Booth] THE NEGRO PLOT IN NEW YORK. 299 On the 6th of June, seven other negroes, named Jack, Cook, Eobin, Csegar, Cuffee, Cuffee, and Jamaica, were tried and found guilty on the dying evidence of Quack and Cuf- fee, with the stories of Mary Burton and the negro boy Sawney. All were executed the next day, with the ex- ception of Jack, who saved his life by promising further disclosures. These disclosures implicated fourteen others, one of whom, to save his life, confessed and accused still more. On the 11th of June, Francis, one of the Spanish negroes, Albany, and Curagoa Dick were sentenced to be burned at the stake. Ben and Quack were condemned to the same fate five days after. Three others were at the same time sentenced to be hanged, and five of the Spanish negroes were also convicted. [On June 19 the governor proclaimed pardon to all who should con- fess and reveal the names of their accomplices before July 1. The accusations at once multiplied. Mary Burton, who had declared that Hughson was the only white man in the plot, now accused John Ury, a schoolmaster and reputed Catholic priest. To the negro plot were now added rumors of a Popish plot. The evidence against Ury was of the most improbable character, yet he was condemned, and sentenced to be hanged.] The arrest of Ury was the signal for the implication of others of the whites. It was a true foreshadowing of the Eeign of Terror. Every one feared his neighbor, and has- tened to be the first to accuse, lest he himself should be accused and thrown into prison. Fresh victims were daily seized, and those with whom the jails were already full to overflowing were transported or hanged with scarcely the foi'm of a trial in order to make room for the new-comers. So rapid was the increase that the judges feared that the numbers might breed an infection, and devised short meth- ods of ridding themselves of the prisoners, sometimes by 300 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Booth pardoning, but as often by hanging them. From the 11th of May to the 29th of August, one hundred and fifty -four negroes were committed to prison, fourteen of whom were burned at the stake, eighteen hanged, seventy-one trans- ported, and the rest pardoned or discharged for the want of sufficient evidence. In the same time, twenty-four whites were committed to prison, four of whom were executed. The tragedy would probably have continued much longer, had not Mary Burton, grown bolder by success, begun to implicate persons of consequence. This at once aroused the fears of the influential citizens, who had been the fore- most when only the negroes were in question, and put a stop to all further proceedings. The fearful catalogue of victims closed on the 29th of August with the execution of John Ury. The 24th of September was set apart as a day of general thanksgiving for the escape of the citizens from destruction ; Mary Burton received the hundred pounds that had been j)romised her as the price of blood, and the city fell back into a feeling of security. Whether this plot ever had the shadow of an existence except in the disordered imaginations of the citizens can never with certainty be known. . . . The witnesses were persons of the vilest character, the evidence was contra- dictory, inconsistent, and extorted under the fear of death, and no real testimony w^as adduced that could satisfy any man in the possession of a clear head and a soundjudg- ment. Terror was really the strongest evidence, and the fear of the Jesuits the conclusive proof. The law passed in 1700 for hanging every Catholic priest who voluntarily came within the province still disgraced the statute-book, while the feeling of intolerance which had prompted it remained as bitter and unyielding as ever. FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 301 SECTION V. THE FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. The three colonial wars between the French and Eng- lish, which we have described, arose from events taking I)laee on the other side of the Atlantic, and were nearly fruitless in results, so far as America was concerned. The bloodshed, torture, and other horrors which accompanied them might all have been spared, since neither of the contestants gained any important advantages from them. The war which we have yet to describe differed from the others in both the particulars mentioned. It had its ori- gin in America, and it ended in a very decided change in the relative positions of the contestants. The progress of the colonies had by the middle of the eighteenth century aroused conflicting claims to territory which could scarcely fail to result in a struggle. The treaty of Aix-la-Chapelle had endeavored to adjust the relative claims to North American territory by the three powers of England, France, and Spain. But as yet these powers occupied only a narrow strip along the Atlantic coast, and though they claimed, by their charters, the whole country from ocean to ocean, yet their ignorance of the vast region thus appropriated on paper was very sure to bring them into disputes concerning boundaries. The English claimed the whole sea-coast from ISTewfound- I. 26 302 AMERICAN HISTORY. land to Florida, in virtue of the discovery by the Cabots, and their grants of territory were assumed as extending westward to the Pacific. This claim to the interior was partly based on treaties Avith the Iroquois Indians, who, on the pretence that they had at some former time con- quered all the territory from the Alleghanies to the Mis- sissippi, ceded this territory to the English, without heed to the rights of the tribes actually occupying it. The French, on the other hand, based their claims to the Mississippi region on actual discovery and exploration. In their view, the half of New York, and the greater portion of New England, fell within the limits of New France and Acadia; while their western provinces of Upper and Lower Louisiana were held to include the entire valle}' of the Mississippi and its tributaries. The original basis of the war which now arose between the Fi'ench and the English was a dispute as to the owner- ship of the tei'ritory bordering on the Ohio. The first step towards it was a grant from the English government to a company of merchants, called the Ohio Company. The movements of this company towards a settlement of the territory assigned them at once roused the apprehen- sions of the French that the English were seeking to de- pi'ive them of their trade with the western Indians and to sever their line of communication between Canada and Louisiana. They immediately took active measures to secure their claim to this ten'itory. As for the aboriginal owners of the land, not the slight- est attention was paid to their rights of possession. Two sachems sent a messenger to Mr. Gist, an agent sent out by the Ohio Company, to inquii'e of him " where the In- dians' land laj', for the French claimed all the land on one side of the Ohio River, and the English on the other." This pertinent question forcibly shows the real merits of FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR. 303 the case, and that neither of the colonial contestants had the slightest claim in equity to the territory. Yet, disregarding all Indian rights, the pioneer settlers of the two nations proceeded to make good their claims. The first act of hostility was committed by the French, in 1753. Three British traders, who had advanced into the disputed territory, were seized bj^ a party of French and Indians and carried prisoners to Presque Isle, on Lake Erie, where the French were then erecting a fort. In reprisal, the Twightwees, a tribe in alliance with the English, seized several French traders, whom they sent to Pennsylvania. These evident hostilities between the whites aroused the Indians, ever ready for war and bloodshed. Insti- gated, as is supposed, by French emissaries, they began inroads upon the borders. The settlers of the Shenan- doah Valley, who were suffering from these savage raids, called upon Governor Dinwiddle, of Virginia, for aid. A messenger was sent out to ascertain the temper of the Indians and the intentions of the French. He returned in alarm at the hostility discovered. Orders now arrived from the British ministry to the governor of Virginia, directing him to build two forts near the Ohio, intended to hold in check the Indians and to prevent French en- croachments. The orders ari'ived too late. The French had already taken possession of the territory, and were securing it by the erection of forts. Such were the instigating causes of the Seven Years' War in America, a conflict which continued for several years before any declaration of hostilities was made by the mother-countries, and which resulted in a radical chano:e in the relations of the colonists of America. 304 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks THE OPENING OF THE WAR. JARED SPARKS. [It was deemed desirable, before taking any more active measures, to send a messenger to the couimander of the French forces on the Ohio and demand his authority for invading the territory of Virginia, and with what designs he was there. Governor Dinwiddie selected for this important mission George Washington, then but twenty-one years of age, yet already holding a commission of major in the Virginia militia, and a man of note in the colony. In addition to his ostensi- ble mission, he was instructed to learn all he covild in regard to the disposition of the Indians, the number of French troops in the country, and what reinforcements were expected, with all possible information as to the location, strength, and garrisons of the French forts. Pro- vided with credentials from the governor, he set out from "Williams- burg on October 31, 1753. His journey, which was in great part through a wilderness, mainly mountainous, covered a distance of five hundred and sixty miles. Eeaching Will's Creek, beyond Winchester, he induced Mr. Gist, an experienced woodsman, to accompany him as guide. The party that there left the extreme limit of civilization and plunged into the primeval forest consisted of eight persons. The season proved severe, and the mountains difficult to cross, but they at length reached the Ohio at the point of junction of its two affluents. The military advantages of this place were perceived by Major Wash- ington, and he advised the erection of the fortification which was soon begun there, and which was destined to prove famous in the coming war. Twenty miles farther, at Logstown, he called together some of the Indian chiefs, with whom he sought to make an alliance, and whom he asked for an escort. In neither was he fully successful, only four Indians accompanying him. A journey of one hundred and twenty miles ftirther took him to the station of the French com- mandant, at a fort situated on French Creek, about fifteen miles south of Lake Erie. The journey had occupied forty-one days. He was received with great politeness by M. de St. -Pierre, the commandant, and delivered his letters, which expressed surprise at the French en- croachments, demanded their authority, and urged a speedy and peaceful departure. While the French officers were in consultation, Washington took the opportunity to inspect the fort thoroughly. Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 305 Finally he received the answer that the French were there by au- thority and could not retire, and that the message should have been sent to the governor of Canada. The return of the party proved a difficult one. They proceeded by canoe to the French post of Venango, at the mouth of French Creek, on the Ohio. Here their horses proved so emaciated as to be fit only to carry the provisions and baggage, and the party determined to proceed on foot. After three days more the horses grew so feeble that Major "Washington and Mr. Gist left the rest of the party, and started alone through the woods by a more direct route. They had some exciting adventures, and in crossing the Alleghany, which was full of drifting ice, they narrowly escaped drowning. They managed to escape from their raft to an island, and reached the opposite shore the next morning ; but Mr. Gist's hands and feet were frozen by the intense cold, and the night was one of extreme suffering. Washing- ton finally reached Williamsburg on January 16, after an absence of eleven weeks. As the intentions of the French were now evident, no time was lost in preparing for energetic action. Efibrts to raise a colonial army were at once made, but Virginia had mainly to depend upon herself, the other colonies taking little interest in the matter. At length, in April, 1754, Washington, now colonel, set out with two companies of recruits, and reached Will's Creek on the 20th. The account of the subsequent events we extract from "The Life of George Washington," by Jared Sparks.] A PARTY of Captain Trent's men had already gone to the Ohio, and begun to build a fort. Just before Colonel "Washington reached Will's Creek, a rumor came from the interior that these men were taken by the French ; and two days afterwards the alarming intelligence was con- firmed hj the ensign of Captain Trent's company. He reported that, while they were at work, forty-one in num- ber, a body of French troops descended the river from Venango, consisting of one thousand men, with eighteen pieces of cannon, sixty bateaux, and three hundred canoes, under the command of Captain Contrecoeur, and summoned them to surrender, threatening to take forcible possession x.—u 26* 306 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks of the fort if this summons were not immediately obeyed. No alternative remained, and, the captain and lieutenant being absent, Ensign Ward acceded to articles of capitu- lation, and gave up the fort, but was permitted to retire with his men. He came to Will's Creek, and brought the news of the disaster. His statement, however, as to the numbers of the French, their cannon and boats, turned out to be very much exaggerated. This was the first open act of hostility in the memorable war of seven years that followed. The French enlarged and completed the fort, which they called Fort Duquesne, in compliment to the governor of Canada. [The position of Colonel "Washington was now a somewhat critical one. His small force of ill-disciplined recruits might easily be sur- rounded and cut oif. But he determined to advance, to construct a road as he did so, and, if he could reach the Monongahela, to build a fort at the mouth of Bedstone Creek. The progress was a slow one. Great difficulties had to be overcome, and provisions grew scarce. "Washington attempted to find a passage by water down the Youghio- gheny, but failed, from obstructions in the river. On his return he re- ceived word from the Half-King, a friendly sachem, that a party of French were marching towards him, determined to attack the first English they should meet.] Not knowing their number, or at what moment they might approach, he hastened to a place called the Great Meadows, cleared away the bushes, threw up an intrench- ment, and prepared, as he expressed it, " a charming field for an encounter." He then mounted some of the soldiers on wagon-horses, and sent them out to reconnoitre. They came back without having seen any traces of the enemy ; but the camp was alarmed in the night, the sentries fired, and all hands were kept under arms till morning. Mr. Gist came to the camj), also, and reported that a French detachment, consisting of fifty men, had been at his settle- Spakks] the opening OF THE WAR. 307 ment the day before, and that he had observed their tracks within five miles of the Great Meadows. The approach of the French with hostile designs was now deemed certain ; and the best preparation was made to receive them which circumstances would permit. In the mean time, about nine o'clock at night, another express came from the Half-King, who was then with a party of his warriors about six miles from the camp, stating that he had seen the tracks of two Frenchmen, and that the whole detachment was near that place. Colonel Wash- ington immediately put himself at the head of forty men, leaving the rest to guard the camp, and set off to join the Half-King. The night was dark, the rain fell in torrents, the paths through the woods were narrow and inti"icate, and the soldiers often lost their way, groping in the bushes, and clambering over rocks and fallen trees. The whole night was spent in the march, and they got to the Indian encampment just before sunrise. A council was held with Tanacharison [the Half-King] and his chief warriors, and it was agreed that they should march in concert against the French. Two Indians went out to ascertain the position of the enemy, which was discovered to be in an obscure retreat, surrounded by rocks, half a mile from the road. The plan of attack was then formed. Colonel Washington and his men were to advance on the right, and 'the Indians on the left. The march was pur- sued in single file, according to the Indian manner, till they came so near as to be discovered by the French, who instantly seized their arms and put themselves in an atti- tude of defence. At this moment the firing commenced on both sides. A smart skirmish ensued, which was kept up for a quai'ter of an hour, when the French ceased to resist. M. de Ju- monville, the commander of the French party, and ten of 308 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks his men, were killed. Twenty-two were taken prisoners, one of whom was wounded. A Canadian made his escape durino; the action. One of Colonel Washino-ton's men was killed, and two or three wounded. No harm happened to the Indians, as the enemy's fire was directed chiefly against the English. This event occurred on the 28th of May. The prisoners were conducted to the Great Meadows, and thence, under a guard, to Governor Dinwiddle. [This action, the opening conflict of arms in the war, acquired a notoriety far beyond its importance. When the news of the event reached Paris it was greatly misrepresented. Jvimonville was consid- ered a messenger bearing a civil summons, who had been waylaid and assassinated ; and an able French poet, named Thomas, made it the foundation of an epic poem entitled " Jumonville," and his fiction has become to some extent the fact of modern French historians. Jumon- ville did bear a summons, but it was an order for the English to re- tire, with a threat of compulsion if they failed to obey. This sum- mons he did not show, but approached the English camp stealthily, and brought on himself, by his imprudence, the fate which he expe- rienced. Some reinforcements soon after reached Virginia, consisting of three hundred and fifty men from North Carolina, one hundred from South Carolina, and two companies from New York. Of these only those from South Carolina arrived at Great Meadows.] It was foreseen by Colonel Washington that when the French at Fort Duquesne should get the news of Ju- monville's defeat a strong detachment woul'd be sent out against him. As a preparation for this event, he set all his men at work to enlarge the intrenchment at the Great Meadows, and to erect palisades. To the structure thus hastily thrown up he gave the name of Fort Necessity. The Indians, who leaned to the English interest, fled before the French and flocked to the camp, bringing along their wives and children and putting them under his pro- Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 309 tection. Among them came Tanacharison and his people, Queen Aliquippa and her son, and other persons of dis- tinction, till between forty and fifty families gathered around him and laid his magazine of supplies under a heavy contribution. It may be said, once for all, that the burden of supporting these sons of the forest during this campaign, and the perplexities of managing them, were by no means counterbalanced by any advantage derived from their aid. As spies and scouts they were of some service; in the field they did nothing. The forces at the Great Meadows, including Captain Mackay's [South Carolina] company, had now increased to about four hundred men. But a new diflSculty arose, which threatened disagreeable consequences. Captain Mackay had a royal commission, which in his opinion put him above the authority of Colonel Washington, who was a colonial officer, commissioned by the governor of Virginia. He was a man of mild and gentlemanly man- ners, and no personal difference interrupted the harmony between them ; but still he declined receiving the orders of the colonel, and his company occupied a separate en- campment. . . . To avoid altercation, and prevent the contagious ex- arflple of disobedience from infecting the troops. Colonel Washington resolved to advance with a large part of his army, and, if not obstructed by the enemy, to go on by the shortest route to the Monongahela Eiver. Captain Mackay's company was left at Fort Necessity, as a guard to that post. The road was to be cleared and levelled for artillery-carriages; and the process was so laborious that it took two weeks to effect a passage through the gorge of the mountains to Gist's settlement, a distance of only thirteen miles. . . . Due vigilance was practised, and scouts were kept abroad, even as far as the neighborhood 310 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks of Fort Duquesne, so that the first motions of the enemy might be detected. [It was soon discovered that Fort Duquesne had been reinforced from Canada, and that a force was preparing to march against the English. It was at first decided to make a stand at Gist's settlement, and Mackay's company was ordered up. But another council decided that the enemy's force was too large, and that a retreat was necessary. It was achieved with great difficulty and exertion, the horses being few and weak, and the burden of labor falling on the men.] In two days they all got back to the Great Meadows. It was not the intention at first to halt at this place, but the men had become so much fatigued from great labor and a deficiency of provisions that they could draw the swivels no further, nor carry the baggage on their backs. They had been eight days without bread, and at the Great Meadows they found only a few bags of flour. . . . Colonel Washington set his men to felling trees, and carrying logs to the fort, with a view to raise a breast- work and enlarge and strengthen the fortification in the best manner that circumstances would permit. The space of ground called the Great Meadows is a level bottom, through which passes a small creek, and is surrounded by hills of a moderate and gradual ascent. This bottom, or glade, is entirely level, covered with long grass and bushes, and varies in width. At the point where the fort stood, it is about two hundred and fifty yards wide, from the base of one hill to that of the opposite. The position of the fort was well chosen, being about one hundred yards from the upland, or wooded ground, on the one side, and one hundred and fifty on the othei', and so situated on the margin of the creek as to afford an easy access to water. . . . On the 3d of July, early in the morning, an alarm was received from a sentinel, who had been wounded by the Sparks] THE OPENING OF THE WAR. 311 enemy ; and at nine o'clock intelligence came that the whole body of the enemy, amounting, as was repoi-ted, to nine hundred men, was only four miles off. At eleven o'clock they approached the fort, and began to fire, at the distance of six hundred yards, but without effect. Colonel Washington had drawn up his men on the open and level ground outside of the trenches, waiting for the attack, which he presumed would be made as soon as the en- emy's forces emerged from the woods; and he ordered his men to reserve their fire till they should be near enough to do execution. . . . He maintained his post till he found the French did not incline to leave the woods and attack the fort by an assault, as he supposed they would, considering their superiority of numbers. He then drew his men back within the trenches, and gave them orders to fire according to their discretion, as suita- ble opportunities might present themselves. The French and Indians remained on the side of the rising ground which was nearest to the fort, and, sheltered by the trees, kept up a brisk fire of musketry, but never appeared in the open plain below. The rain fell heavily through the day, the trenches were filled with water, and many of the arms of Colonel "Washington's men were out of order and used with difficulty. In this way the battle continued from eleven in the morning till eight at night, when the French called and requested a parley. Suspecting this to be a feint to pro- cure the admission of an officer into the fort, that he might discover their condition, Colonel Washington at first de- clined to listen to the proposal. [He afterwards agreed to it, and, articles of capitulation being pro- posed by the French commander, they were accepted and signed by both pai'ties.] 312 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks By the terms of the capitulation, the whole garrison was to retire, and return without molestation to the in- habited parts of the country; and the French commander promised that no embarrassment should be interposed, either by his own men or the savages. The English were to take away everything in their possession, except their artillery, and to march out of the fort the next morning with the honors of war, their drums beating and colors flying. As the French had killed all the horses and cattle, Colonel Washington had no means of transporting his heavy baggage and stores ; and it was conceded to him that his men might conceal their efl'ects, and that a guard might be left to protect them, till horses could be sent up to take them away. Colonel "Washington agreed to restore the prisoners who had been taken at the skirmish with Jumonville ; and, as a surety for this article, two hostages. Captain Vanbraam and Captain Stobo, were delivered up to the French, and were to be retained till the prisoners should return. It was, moreover, agreed that the party capitulating should not attempt to build any more estab- lishments at that place, or beyond the mountains, for the space of a year. Early the next morning Colonel Washington began to march from the fort in good order, but he had proceeded only a short distance when a body of one hundred Indians, being a reinforcement to the French, came upon him, and could hardly be restrained from attacking his men. They pilfered the baggage, and did other mischief He marched forward, howevei', with as much speed as possible in the weakened and encumbered condition of his army, there being no other mode of conveying the wounded men and the baggage than on the soldiers' backs. As the provis- ions were nearly exhausted, no time was to be lost ; and, leaving much of the baggage behind, he hastened to Will's Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 313 Creek, where all the necessary supplies were in store. Thence Colonel Washington and Captain JVIackay pro- ceeded to Williamsburg, and communicated in person to Governor Dinwiddle the events of the campaign. [The narration here given is of especial importance, as recording the first military event in the life of George Washington, who was afterwards to become so famous in the annals of war. Although but a youth, unskilled in war, he had shown remarkable prudence, cour- age, and ability. His conduct, as well as that of his troops, was highly approved by the authorities, and the House of Burgesses passed a vote of thanks to Colonel Washington and his officers " for their bravery and gallant defence of their country."] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. JOHN FROST. [As it was now becoming apparent that war with France was inevi- table, and as the continued advances of the French upon what was claimed by the English colonists as their territory demonstrated the necessity of co-operation in the colonies, the English government rec- ommended that a convention should be held at Albany, for the double purpose of forming a league with the Iroquois and of devising a plan of general defence against the common enemy. The delegates from the colonies met in June, 1754, made a treaty of peace with the Six Nations, and considered the subject of colonial union. Among the delegates was Benjamin Franklin, of Philadelphia, who, starting in lif} as a printer's boy, was now postmaster-general of America, and was looked upon by many as the ablest of American thinkers. He proposed a plan of union, which the convention adopted on July 4. There was to be a general government of the colonies, presided over by a governor-general appointed by the crown, and conducted by a council chosen by the colonial legislatures. The council was to have the power to raise troops, declare war, make peace, collect money, and pass all measures necessary for the public safety. The governor-gen- I.— o ~ 27 314 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost eral was to have the power to veto its ordinances, while all laws were required to be ratified by the king. This plan was favored by all the delegates except those of Connecticut, who objected to the veto power of the governor-general and to the authority to lay general taxes. But when submitted to the colonial Assemblies and to the British gov- ernment it was rejected by both, the colonies considering that it gave too much power to the king, and the king that it gave too much power to the people. As this plan had failed, the British ministrj- determined to take the control of the war into their own hands, and to send out an army strong enough to force the French to keep within their own territory. The story of the ensuing events we select from Frost's " Life of General Washington."] In January, 1755, General Braddock was despatclied from Ireland, with two regiments of infantry, to co-oper- ate with the Yirginian forces in recovering the command of the Ohio. The arrival of Braddock excited enthusias- tic hopes among the colonists. The different provinces seemed to forget their disputes with each other and with Great Britain, and to enter into a resolution to chastise the French, at whatever cost. At the request of the British commander, a meeting of the governors of five of the colonies was held at Alexandria, at which they determined to undertake three simultaneous expeditions. The first of these was to be conducted by Braddock, with the British troops, against Fort Duquesne; the second, under the command of Governor Shirley, now honored with the commission of a general from the king, was intended for the reduction of the French fort of Niagara, and was composed of American regulars and Indians ; the third was an expedition against Crown Point, to be undertaken by a regiment of militia. [The orders brought by Braddock divested the colonial generals and field-officers of all rank while serving with British officei-s of the same grade, and made company officers subordinate to those of the regular army. This left Washington without rank in the new army ; yet he Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 315 was eager to take part in the expedition, and at Braddock's request he joined him with the rank of aide-de-camp. The army proceeded by- way of Frederic Town and "Winchester to Will's Creek, which was reached about the middle of May. Here a long halt was made, to obtain wagons and horses, though Washington strongly opposed the delay, and recommended an immediate advance, before the French could reinforce their posts on the Ohio. Finally the wagons were obtained, through the strenuous exertions of Benjamin Franklin and his personal influence with the farmers of Pennsylvania. On the 10th of June the army recommenced its march. As it proceeded very slowly, Washington advised a rapid advance of a portion of the troops, leaving the rear division, with the baggage, heavy artil- lery, etc., to follow more slowly.] This advice prevailed in tlie council, and, being ap- proved by the general, he advanced on the 19th of June, with twelve hundred chosen men, and officers from all the different corps, leaving the remainder, with most of the wagons, under the command of Colonel Dunbar, with in- structions to follow as fast as he could. Notwithstanding this arrangement, Braddock advanced very slowly, " halt- ing to level every mole-hill and to erect bridges over every brook, by which means he was four days in advancing twelve miles." [Washington was now prostrated with a severe fever, and was obliged to remain with the rear division. He rejoined the general on the day before the battle, and was then able to sit on horseback, though still very weak.] On joining Braddock's division on the 8th, at the mouth of the Youghiogheny, Washington was surpi-ised to find them, though within fifteen miles of the fort, marching in regular European order, in as perfect security as if they were on the wide plains of the Eastern Hemisphere, or in a peaceful review, on a field-day, in England. They marched without advanced guards or scouts ; and the offer of Washinfftou to scour the woods, in front and on 316 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost the flanks, with his Virginian provincials, was haughtily rejected. A considerable bend in the Monongahela Eiver, and the nature of the banks, made it necessary for the army to cross it twice before they reached the fort. On the morn- ing of the 9th of July, everything being in readiness, the whole train ci'ossed the river in perfect order, a short dis- tance below the mouth of the Youghiogheny, and took up their line of march along its southern bank, in high spirits. The garrison of the fort was understood to be small, and quite inadequate to resist the force now brought to bear upon it ; exulting hope filled every heart ; and no one doubted that he should see the British flag waving, next day, over the battlements, and the enemy obliged to retire to Canada or surrender themselves prisoners of war. The march on that morning is described as a splendid spectacle, being made in full military array, in exact order, the sun glancing from the burnished bayo- nets to the scarlet uniform of the regulars, with a majestic river on the right, and dark, deep woods on the left. Not an enemy appeared, and the most profound silence reigned over this wild territory. The only countenance among them which was clouded with care or concern was that of Washington, who, as he rode beside the general, vainly represented that the profound silence and apparent soli- tude of the gloomy scenes around them afforded no se- curity in American warfare against deadly and imminent danger. Again, and still vainly, did he offer to scour the woods in front and on the left with the provincial troops. The ffeneral treated his fears as the effects of fever on his brain, and the provincials were ordered to form the rear- guard of the detachment. About noon they reached the second crossing-place, within ten miles of Fort Duquesne, and at one o'clock Frost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 317 had all crossed the river in safety, Three hundred men under Colonel Gage formed the advanced party, which was closel}^ followed by a party of two hundred ; and last of all followed the general with the main body, consisting of about seven hundred men, the artillery and baggage. After crossing the river, the road along which they marched led for about half a mile through a low plain, and then commenced a gradual ascent of about three degrees, the prospect being shut in by hills in the distance. About a hundred and fifty yards from the bottom of this inclined plain, and about equidistant from the road leading to the fort, commenced two ravines, from eight to ten feet deep, which led off in different directions until they ter- minated in the plain below. Covered as these ravines were with trees and long grass, and the British having no scouts, it was impossible for them to discover their exist- ence without approaching within a few feet of them. Up this inclined plain, between these ravines. General Brad- dock led his army on the afternoon of the 9th of July. "While the English were thus leisurely advancing, the scouts of the French kept the commandant at Fort Du- quesne accurately informed of their motions and their numbers. Believing the small force under his command wholly inadequate to the defence of the fort against three thousand men, with a formidable park of artillery, as his scouts had represented them, he was hesitating what course to pursue, when Captain de Beaujeu offered to lead a small party of French and Indians to meet the enemy and harass his march. It required a great deal of persuasion to in- duce the Indians to engage in what they considered an impossible undertaking; but, possessing their confidence, he finally subdued their unwillingness, and induced about six hundred of them to accompany him. With these and about two hundred and fifty French and Canadians, he I. 27* 318 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost intended to occupy the banks of the Monongahela and harass the English as they crossed the rivei'. It was only on the morning of the 9th that he was ready to start on this expedition, and when he arrived near the river his spies reported that Braddock had already crossed. Find- ing that he was too late to pursue his original plan, De Beaujeu placed his followers in the ravines before men- tioned, between which the English were seen advancing along the road. When the three hundred under Gage came near the head of the ravines, a heavy discharge of musketry was poured in upon their front, and immediately after another upon their left flank. This was the first notice which they had of the presence of an enemy. Braddock was com- pletely surprised. Gage ordered his men to fire, and though no enemy was visible, yet they poured such a discharge upon the spot where the smoke of the first fire was still to be seen, that the Indians, believing that it pro- ceeded from artillery, were upon the point of retreating. Their indecision was but for an instant, for the advance, falling back upon the main body, threw them into con- fusion ; and instead of following the example of the In- dians and taking to the trees, or opening upon their invisible foe a discharge of grape, they were ordered by Braddock to maintain their ranks and advance. Captain de Beaujeu was killed by the first discharge of Gage's men, and Captain Dumas, who succeeded him in the com- mand, immediately rallied the Indians, and, sending them down the ravines, ordered them to attack the enemy on each flank, while he, with the French and Canadians, maintained his position in front. Then commenced a ter- rible carnage. The British, panic-struck and bewildered, huddled together in squads, heeded not the commands of their ofiicers. who were riding about madly urging them Frost] BRADDOCKS DEFEAT. 319 to advance, but they only fled from one side of the field to be met by the fii-e of an invisible foe on the other side ; and then they would gather in small parties as if they hoped to shield themselves behind the bodies of their friends, firing without aim, oftener shooting down their own offi- cers and men than Indians. Their only hope would now have been to separate, rush behind the trees, and fight man to man with their assailants ; but Braddock insisted on forming them into platoons and columns, in order to make regular discharges, which struck only the trees or tore up the ground in front. The Virginians alone seemed to retain their senses. Notwithstanding the prohibition of the general, they no sooner knew the enemy with whom they had to deal, than they adopted the Indian mode of fighting, and each for himself, behind a tree, manifested bravery worthy of a better fate. Meanwhile the French and Indians, secure behind their natural breastAvorks, aimed deliberately first at the officers on horseback, and then at others, each shot bringing down a man. The leaders, selected by unerring aim, fell first. Captains Orme and Morris, two of the three aides-de-camp, were wounded early in the action, and Washington was the only person left to distribute the general's orders, which he was scarcely able to do, as he was not more than half recovered from his illness. Notwithstanding the neglect with which his warnings had been treated, he still aided the general with his mental as well as his physical powers ; though the troops lay thick around him in slaughtered heaps, he still gave the aid of salutary counsel to his ill- fated chief, and urged it with all the grace of eloquence and all the force of conviction. Eiding in ever}- direction, his manly form drew the attention of the savages, and they doomed him to destruction. The murdering rifles were levelled, the quick bullets flew winged with death, 320 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frost and pierced his garments ; but, obedient to the Sovereign will, they dared not shed his blood. One chieftain es- pecially singled Washington out as a conspicuous mark, fired his rifle at him many times, and ordered his young warriors to do the same, until they became convinced that he was under the special pi'otection of the Great Spirit, and would never die in battle, when they desisted. Although four balls passed through Washington's coat, and two horses were shot under him, he escaped unhurt. Washington's conduct in the action is described by an eye-witness whose verbal account is thus given by Mr. Paulding : " I saw him take hold of a brass field-piece as if it had been a stick. He looked like a fury ; he tore the sheet-lead from the touch-hole; he placed one hand on the muzzle, the other on the breech ; he pulled with this, and he pushed with that, and wheeled it round as if it had been nothing. It tore the ground like a barshare. The powder-monkey rushed up with the fire, and then the cannon began to bark, I tell you. They fought and they fought, and the Indians began to holla, when the rest of the brass cannon made the bark of the trees fly, and the Indians come down. That place they call Eock Hill, and there they left five hundred men dead on the ground." After the slaughter had thus continued for three hours, General Braddock, after having three horses killed under him, received a shot through the right arm and the lungs, and was borne from the field by Colonel Gage. More than one-half of the soldiers who had so proudly crossed the river three hours before were now killed or wounded, and the rest, on the fall of the general, fled precipitately. The provincials, who were among the last to leave the ground, were kept in order by Washington, and served to cover the retreat of the regulars. The officers in general remained on the field while there seemed any hoj^e of Fkost] BRADDOCK'S DEFEAT. 321 rallying their troops, and consequently, out of eighty-six engaged, sixty-three were killed or wounded. Of the pri- vates, seven hundred and fourteen fell. The rout was complete, and the more disgraceful in that it was before an inferior enemy, who attacked without the least hope of such success, and during the whole battle lost but forty men. Most of these were Indians killed in venturing out of the ravine to take scalps. Captain Dumas thought his force too weak to pursue the fugitives, who fled precipitately until they had recrossed the Monongahela, when, being no longer in imminent danger, they again formed. Colonel Washington hastened forward to bring up wagons and other conveyances for the wounded. General Braddock, under the particular charge of Cap- tain Stewart of the Virginia foi'ces, was at first conveyed in a tumbril ; afterwards he was placed on horseback, but, being unable to ride, he was obliged to be carried by soldiers. In this way he was transported until the night of the 13th, wlien they arrived within a mile of Fort Necessity, where he died, and was buried in his cloak, in the road, to elude the search of the Indians. Wash- ington, by the light of a torch, read the funeral service over his remains. The news of the defeat soon reached the rear division under Colonel Dunbar. The greatest confusion for a time reigned in his camp. The artillery stores were destroyed, the heavy baggage burned, and as soon as the fugitives arrived he took up the line of mai'ch with all speed for Philadelphia. Colonel Washington j^roceeded to Mount Yernon, justly indignant at the conduct of the regulars in the late engagement, though his own bravery and good conduct in the action gained him the apj)lause of all his countrymen. 322 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman THE BATTLE AT LAKE GEORGE. FRANCIS PARKMAN. [Of the three principal operations laid out for the year 1755, that againt Fort Duquesne ended, as we have seen, in a disastrous defeat for the English. The news of this defeat put an end to the expedition against Fort Niagara, through the discouragement which it produced. The third expedition, that against Crown Point, was more successful, and led to an engagement of such importance as to merit a special de- scription. The forces selected for this purpose were militia-men from New England and New York, under the command of a prominent New-Yorker named William Johnson, a man of great iniluence with the Five Nations. All his influence and endeavors, however, only in- duced about three hundred of them to enlist for the expected battle. From Parkman's spirited history, entitled " Montcalm and Wolfe," we select an account of the events of this campaign.] While the British colonists were preparing to attack Crown Point, the French of Canada were preparing to defend it. Duquesne, recalled from his post, had resigned the government to the Marquis de Vaudreuil, who had at his disposal the battalions of regulars that had sailed in the spring from Brest under Baron Dieskau. His first thought was to use them for the capture of Oswego; but the letters of Braddock, found on the battle-field, warned him of the design against Crown Point, while a reconnoi- tring party which had gone as far as the Hudson brought back news that Johnson's forces were already in the field. Therefore the plan was changed, and Dieskau was ordered to lead the main body of his troops, not to Lake Ontario, but to Lake Champlain. He passed up the Eicheheu, and embarked in boats and canoes for Crown Point. The veteran knew that the foes with whom he had to deal were but a mob of countrymen. He doubted not of put- ting them to rout, and meant never to hold his hand till Pakkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 323 he had chased them back to Albany. " Make all haste," Vaudreuil wrote to him ; " for when you return we shall send you to Oswego to execute our fii'st design." Johnson, on his part, was preparing to advance. In July about three thousand provincials were encamped near Albany, some on the " Flats" above the town, and some on the meadows below. Hither, too, came a swarm of Johnson's Mohawks, — warriors, squaws, and children. They adorned the general's face with war-paint, and he danced the war-dance ; then with his sword he cut the first slice from the ox that had been roasted whole for their entertainment. " I shall be glad," wrote the surgeon of a New England regiment, " if they fight as eagerly as they ate their ox and drank their wine." [Though promptness was of great importance, there was much delay in bringing the troops together. The army, though crude in its make- up, had in it much good material. Among the men were two who were destined to make their names well known in American history, — Israel Putnam, a private in a Connecticut regiment, and John Stark, a New Hampshire lieutenant, the future hero of Bennington.] The soldiers were no soldiers, but farmers and farmers' sons who had volunteered for the summer campaign. One of the corps had a blue uniform faced with red. The rest wore their daily clothing. Blankets had been served out to them by the several provinces, but the greater part brought their own guns ; some under the penalty of a fine if they came without them, and some under the in- ducement of a reward. They had no bayonets, but car- ried hatchets in their belts as a sort of substitute. At their sides were slung powder-horns, on which, in the lei- sure of the camp, they carved quaint devices with the points of their jack-knives. They came chiefly from plain New England homesteads, — rustic abodes, unpainted and dingy, with long well-sweeps, capacious barns, rough fields 324 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman of pumpkins and corn, and vast kitchen-chimneys, above which in winter hung squashes to keep them from frost, and guns to keep them from rust. [Mohawk scouts who had been sent to Canada returned with the report that eight thousand men were marching to defend Crown Point. Indecision followed, but it was finally resolved to march to Lake George.] The train of Dutch wagons, guarded by the homely soldiery, jolted slowly over the stumps and roots of the newly-made road, and the regiments followed at their leisure. The hardships of the way were not without their consolations. The jovial Irishman who held the chief command made himself very agreeable to the New England officers. " We went on about four or five miles," says Pomeroy in his Journal, " then stopped, ate pieces of bi'oken bread and cheese, and drank some fresh lemon- punch and the best of wine with General Johnson and some of the field officers." It was the same on the next day. " Stopped about noon and dined with General John- son by a small brook under a tree ; ate a good dinner of cold boiled and roast venison ; drank good fresh lemon- punch and wine." That afternoon they reached their destination, fourteen miles from Fort Lyman. The most beautiful lake in America lay before them ; then more beautiful than now, in the wild charm of untrodden mountains and virgin forests. " I have given it the name of Lake George," wrote Johnson to the Lords of Trade, '' not only in honor of His Majesty, but to ascertain his undoubted dominion here." His men made their camp on a piece of rough ground by the edge of the water, pitching their tents among the stumps of the newly-felled trees. In their front was a forest of pitch-pine ; on their right, a marsh, Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 325 choked with alders and swamp-maples ; on their left, the low hill where Fort George was afterwards built; and at their rear, the lake. Little was done to clear the forest in front, though it would give excellent cover to an enemy. Nor did Johnson take much pains to learn the movements of the French in the direction of Crown Point, though he sent scouts towards South Bay and Wood Creek. Every day stores and bateaux, or flat-boats, came on wagons from Fort Lyman ; and preparation moved on with the leisure that had marked it from the first. About three hundred Mohawks came to the camp, and were regarded by the New England men as nuisances. . . . While Johnson lay at Lake George, Dieskau prepared a surpi'ise for him. The German baron had reached Crown Point at the head of three thousand five hundred and seventy-three men, regulars, Canadians, and Indians. He had no thought of waiting there to be attacked. The troops were told to hold themselves ready to move at a moment's notice. Officers — so ran the order — will take nothing with them but one spare shirt, one spare pair of shoes, a blanket, a bearskin, and provisions for twelve days; Indians are not to amuse themselves by taking scalps till the enemy is entirely defeated, since they can kill ten men in the time required to scalp one. Then Dieskau moved on, with nearly all his force, to Carillon, or Ticonderoga, a promontory commanding both the routes by which alone Johnson could advance, that of Wood Creek and that of Lake George. The Indian allies were commanded by Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, the officer who had received Washington on his embassy to Fort Le BcBuf. These unmanageable warriors were a constant annoyance to Dieskau, being a species of humanity quite new to him. " They drive us crazy," he says, " from morning till night. There is no I. 28 326 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman end to their demands. They have abeady eaten five oxen and as many hogs, without counting the kegs of brandy they have drunk. In short, one needs the patience of an angel to get on with these devils ; and yet one must al- ways foi'ce himself to seem pleased with them." [Dieskau, being falsely informed by a prisoner that Fort Lyman was indefensible, resolved on a rapid movement to seize it. He passed down Lake Champlain to the site of Whitehall, by canoe, and then took up the line of march through the forest. Word came in now that there was a large force encamped on Lake George, and the Indians decided that they would not attack the fort, but were ready to proceed against the camp. This movement was determined on.] They moved rapidly on through the waste of pines, and soon entered the rugged valley that led to Johnson's camp. On their right was a gorge where, shadowed in bushes, gurgled a gloomy brook ; and beyond rose the cliffs that buttressed the rocky heights of French Mountain, seen by glimpses between the boughs. On their left rose gi-adually the lower slopes of West Mountain. All was rock, thicket, and forest ; there was no open space but the road along which the regulars marched, while the Canadians and In- dians pushed their way thi-ough the woods in such order as the broken ground would permit. They were three miles from the lake, when their scouts brought in a prisoner who told them that a column of English troops was approaching. Dieskau's pre2:)arationa were quickly made. While the regulars halted on the road, the Canadians and Indians moved to the front, where most of them hid in the forest along the slopes of West Mountain, and the rest lay close among the thickets on the other side. Thus, when the English advanced to attack the regulars in front, they would find themselves caught in a double ambush. No sight or sound betraj^ed the snare ; but behind every bush crouched a Canadian or a ParkmanJ the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. :]27 savage, with gun cocked and ears intent, listening for the tramp of the approaching column. The wagoners who escaped the evening before had reached the camp about midnight, and reported that there was a war-party on the road near Fort Lyman. Johnson had at this time twenty-two hundred effective men, besides his three hundred Indians. He called a council of war in the morning, and a resolution was taken which can only be explained by a complete misconception as to the forces of the French. It was determined to send out two detach- ments of five hundred men each, one towards Fort Lyman, and the other towards South Bay, the object being, accord- ing to Johnson, " to catch the enemy in their retreat." Hendrick, chief of the Mohawks, a brave and sagacious warrior, expressed his dissent after a fashion of his own. He picked up a stick and broke it ; then he picked up several sticks, and showed that together they could not be broken. The hint was taken, and the two detachments were joined in one. Still the old savage shook his head. " If they are to be killed," he said, " they are too many ; if they are to fight, they are too few." Nevertheless, he re- solved to share their fortunes ; and, mounting on a gun- carriage, he harangued his warriors with a voice so ani- mated and gestures so expressive that the New England officers listened in admiration, though they undei'stood not a word. One difficulty remained. He was too old and fat to go afoot ; but Johnson lent him a horse, which he be- strode, and trotted to the head of the column, followed by two hundred of his warriors as fast as they could grease, paint, and befeather themselves. . . . It was soon after eight o'clock when Ephraim Williams left the camp with his regiment, marched a little distance, and then waited for the rest of the detachment under Lieutenant-Colonel Whitiuir. Thus Dieskau had full time 328 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman to lay his ambush. When Whiting came up, the whole moved on together, so little conscious of danger that no Bcouts were thrown out in front or flank; and, in full security, they entered the fatal snare. Before they were completely involved in it, the sharp eye of old Hendrick detected some sign of an enemy. At that instant, whether by accident or design, a gun was fired from the bushes. It is said that Dieskau's Iroquois, seeing Mohawks, their relatives, in the van, wished to warn them of danger. If so, the warning came too late. The thickets on the left blazed out a deadly fire, and the men fell by scores. In the words of Dieskau, the head of the column " was doubled up like a pack of cards." Hendrick's horse was shot down, and the chief was killed with a bayonet as he tried to rise. Williams, seeing a rising ground on his right, made for it, calling on his men to follow; but as he climbed the slope, guns flashed from the bushes, and a shot through the brain laid him dead. The men in the rear pressed forward to support their comi-ades, when a hot fire was suddenly opened on them from the forest along their right flank. Then there was a panic ; some fled outright, and the whole column recoiled. The van now became the rear, and all the force of the enemy rushed upon it, shout- ing and screeching. There was a moment of total confu- sion ; but a part of Williams's regiment rallied under com- mand of Whiting, and covered the retreat, fighting behind trees like Indians, and firing and falling back by turns, bravely aided by some of the Mohawks and by a detach- ment which Johnson sent to their aid. "And a very handsome retreat they made," writes Pomeroy ; " and so continued till they came within about three-quarters of a mile of our camp. This was the last fire our men gave our enemies, which killed great numbers of them ; they were seen to drop as pigeons." So ended the fray long Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 329 known in New England fireside story as the " bloody morning scout." Dieskau now ordered a halt, and sounded his trumpets to collect his scattered men. His Indians, however, were sullen and unmanageable, and the Canadians also showed signs of wavering. The veteran who commanded them all, Legardeur de Saint-Pierre, had been killed. At length they were persuaded to move again, the regulars leading the way. About an hour after Williams and his men had begun their march, a distant rattle of musketiy was heard at the camp ; and as it grew neai"er and louder, the listeners knew that their comrades were on the retreat. Then, at the eleventh hour, preparations were begun for defence. A sort of barricade was made along the front of the camp, partly of wagons, and partly of inverted bateaux, but chiefly of the trunks of trees hastily hewn down in the neighboring forest and laid end to end in a single row. The line extended from the southern slopes of the hill on the left across a tract of rough ground to the marshes on the right. The forest, choked with bushes and clumps of rank ferns, was within a few yards of the barricade, and there was scarcely time to hack away the inter- vening thickets. Three cannon were planted to sweep the road that descended through the pines, and another was dragged up to the ridge of the hill. The defeated party began to come in : first, scared fugitives, both white and red ; then, gangs of men bringing the wounded ; and at last, an hour and a half after the first fire was heard, the main detachment was seen marching in compact bodies down the road. Five hundred men were detailed to guard the flanks of the camp. The rest stood behind the wagons or lay flat behind the logs and inverted bateaux, the Massachusetts men on the right, and the Connecticut men on the left. I. 28* 330 AMERICAN HISTORT. [Parkman Besides Indians, tliis actual fighting force was between sixteen and seventeen hundred rustics, very few of whom had been under fire before that morning. They were hardly at their jjosts when they saw ranks of white-coated soldiers moving down the road, and bayonets that to them seemed innumerable glittering between the boughs. At the same time a terrific burst of war-whoops rose along the front; and, in the words of Pomeroy, "the Canadians and Indians, helter-skelter, the woods full of them, came running with undaunted courage right down the hill upon us, expecting to make us flee." Some of the men grew uneasy ; while the chief officers, sword in hand, threatened instant death to any who should stir from their posts. If Dieskau had made an assault at that instant, there could be little doubt of the result. This he well knew ; but he was powerless. He had his small foi'ce of regulars well in hand ; but the rest, red and white, were beyond control, scattering through the woods and swamps, shouting, yelhng, and firing from behind trees. The regulars advanced with intrepidity towards the camp where the trees were thin, deployed, and fired by platoons, till Captain Eyre, who commanded the artillery, opened on them with grape, broke their ranks, and compelled them to take to cover. The fusillade was now general on both sides, and soon grew furious. " Perhaps," Seth Pomeroy wrote to his wife, two days after, "the hailstones from heaven were never much thicker than their bullets came ; but, blessed be God ! that did not in the least daunt or disturb us." Johnson received a flesh-wound in the thigh, and spent the rest of the day in his tent. Lyman took command ; and it is a marvel that he escaped alive, for he was four hours in the heat of the fire, directing and ani- mating the men. " It was the most awful day my eyes ever beheld," wrote Surgeon Williams to his wife; "there Parkman] the battle AT LAKE GEORGE. 331 seemed to be nothing but thunder and lightning and per- petual pillars of smoke." . . . Dieskau had directed his first attack against the left and centre of Johnson's position. Making no impression here, he tried to force the right, where lay the regiments of Titcomb, Euggles, and Williams. The fire was hot for about an hour. Titcomb was shot dead, a rod in front of the barricade, firing from behind a tree like a common soldier. At length Dieskau, exposing himself within short range of the English line, was hit in the leg. His adju- tant, Montreuil, himself wounded, came to his aid, and was washing the injured limb with brandy, when the unfortu- nate commander was hit again in the knee and thigh. He seated himself behind a tree, while the adjutant called two Canadians to carry him to the rear. One of them was in- stantly shot down. Montreuil took his place ; but Dieskau refused to be moved, bitterly denounced the Canadians and Indians, and ordered the adjutant to leave him and lead the regulars in a last effort against the camp. It was too late. Johnson's men. singly or in small squads, were already ci'ossing their row of logs ; and in a few mo- ments the whole dashed forward with a shout, falling upon the enemy with hatchets and the butts of their guns. The French and their ahies fled. The wounded general still sat helpless by the tree, when he saw a soldier aiming at him. He signed to the man not to fire ; but he pulled trigger, shot him across the hips, leaped upon him, and ordered him in French to surrender. " I said," writes Dieskau. " ' You rascal, why did you fire ? You see a man lying in his blood on the ground, and you shoot him !' He answered, ' How did I know that 3'ou had not got a pistol ? I had rather kill the devil than have the devil kill me.' ' You are a Frenchman ?' I asked. ' Yes,' he replied ; ' it is more than ten years since I left Canada j' whereupon 332 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Parkman sevei'al others fell on me and stripped me. I told them to carry me to their general, which they did. On learning who I was, he sent for surgeons, and, though wounded himself, refused all assistance till my wounds were dressed." It was near five o'clock when the final rout took place. Some time before, several hundred of the Canadians and Indians had left the field and returned to the scene of the morning fight, to plunder and scalp the dead. They were resting themselves near a pool in the forest, close beside the road, when their repose was interrupted by a volley of bullets. It was fired by a scouting party from Fort Lyman, chiefly backwoodsmen, under Captains Folsom and McGinnis. The assailants were greatly out- numbered ; but after a hard fight the Canadians and In- dians broke and fled. McGinnis was mortally wounded. He continued to give orders till the firing was over, then fainted, and was carried, dying, to the camp. The bodies of the slain, according to tradition, were thrown into the pool, which bears to this day the name of Bloody Pond. [Johnson had great difficulty in preserving the life of Dieskau, the Mohawks, who were furious at the death of Hendrick, making sev- eral efforts to kill him. The wounded baron, however, survived to reach England, where he recovered sufficiently to live for several years, though wretchedly shattered by his wounds. The success attained by Johnson was not improved. He failed to follow the flying foe, on the excuse that his men were tired. Yet five hundred of them had stood still all day, and there were boats enough to transport them to where Dieskau had left his canoes and provisions, ten miles down the lake. Nor did he send out scouts to Ticonderoga till a week afterwards. On the contrary, he intrenched himself against a possible assault, and let two weeks pass away, by the end of which time the enemy was intrenched at Ticonderoga in force enough to defy him. Thus the expedition against Crown Point, though attended with such an incidental success, proved a failure. Johnson remained a month longer at the lake, when he sent his army home. With the art of the courtier, he changed the name of Fort Lyman to Fort Edward, Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 333 after one of the king's grandsons, and called his new fort at Lake George William Henry, after another. As a result of his victory and his policy he received five thousand pounds from Parliament and was made a baronet by the king.] THE EXPULSION OF THE ACADIANS. JAMES HANNAY. [The year of the conflicts last described was marked by another event of great importance, and one which has aroused more feeling than any other circumstance of the war. This was the removal of the French settlers from Acadia, and their dispei-sion through the English settlements. This event has been treated mainly from the stand-point of sentiment, the cruelty of the deportation strongly dwelt on, and the action of the English regarded as indefensible. A calmer and fuller review of the circumstances gives a new face to the situation, and shows that the English action, though it proved of little utility, had much warrant in the circumstances of the case. We extract an ac- count of this deportation from Hannay's valuable " History of Acadia." It was preceded by certain military events which need to be out- lined. About the last of May, 1755, Colonel Monckton sailed from Boston, with three thousand troops, with the design of reducing the French settlements on the Bay of Fundy, which were considered as encroachments on the English province of Nova Scotia. This prov- ince, the Acadia of a former period, had been talcen by the English in 1710, and was ceded to the English government by the treaty of Utrecht in 1713. The French, however, had steadily encroached upon the peninsula, and had strengthened themselves by forts on its New Brunswick border, from which a hostile influence disseminated itself through the French population of the peninsula. Monckton 's expe- dition was successful in reducing these forts. A block-house on Chig- necto Bay was first carried by assault, and then Fort Beausejour, a strong post on the neck of the peninsula, was invested, and taken after a four days' siege. Fort Gaspereau, on Green Bay, was next captured, after which the French abandoned their post on the St. John's River. 334 AMERICAN HISTORY [Hannay As the hostility of the Acadians to British rule continued unabated, and as their presence endangered the security of the province, it was resolved to remove them and endeavor to replace them by settlers loyal to the British government. The circumstances of this removal we append in the words of Mr. Hannay.] The English, after a possession of Acadia which lasted nearly forty yeai'S, had not svicceeded in founding a single English settlement or adding to the English-speaking popu- lation of the province. The French Acadians, on the other hand, had gone on increasing and spreading themselves over the land. They were strong and formidable, not only by reason of their number, but because of their knowledge of wood-craft, of the management of canoes, and of many other accomplishments which are essential to those who would live in a forest countr}^, and which were almost indispensable qualifications for soldiers in such a land as Acadia. All that the English had to show for their thirty- nine years' occupation of the country were the fortifica- tions of Annapolis and a ruined fishing-station at Canso. All the substantial gains of that time belonged to France, for the Acadians w^ere neai'ly three times as numerous as when Port Eoyal fell, and they were quite as devoted to the interests of France as their fathers had been. Acadia in 1749 was as much a French colony as it had been forty years before. The only diff'erence was that the English were at the expense of maintaining a garrison instead of the French, and that they sometimes issued orders to the inhabitants, which the latter very seldom chose to obej-. [Of the various schemes to give Acadia an English population all proved failures, except that of 1749, in which a large colony was es- tablished at a point hitherto unoccupied, where a town rapidly arose from which has sprung the present city of Halifax. The Acadians, however, steadily refused to take the oath of allegiance to Great Britain, and, while professing to be neutral between the English and Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 335 the French, secretly abetted the latter. Three hundred of them were found in Fort Beausejour when captured, and their hostility to the. English was pronounced.] The event for which the year 1755 will be ever memo- rable in the history of this continent was not the capture of Beausejour, nor the defeat of Brftddock. These were results which occurred in the ordinary course of warfare, and which grew naturally out of the struggle which Eng- land and France were waging in America. Our interest in them is merel}^ the interest of patriotism; we feel no sympathy for the individual soldier who lays down his life for his country, for it is the business of the soldier to fight and to die, and to some a death on the field of battle which is lighted by the sun of victory seems the happiest death of all. The event which gives the year 1755 a sad pre-eminence over its fellows — the expulsion of the Aca- dians — was an occurrence of a very different character. The sufferers were men who were, or ought to have been, non-combatants, and in the common ruin which overtook them their wives and children were involved. The break- ing up of their domestic hearths, their severance from their property, the privations they endured when driven among strangers, and the numberless ills which overtook them as the result of their first misfortune, have an inter- est for the people of every nation, for they appeal to our common humanity. It seems at the first view of the case an outrage on that humanity and a grievous wrong that such an occurrence as the expulsion of the Acadians should have taken place merely from political motives. The misfortunes and sufferings of the Acadians stand out prominently, and appeal to ever}^ eye; a great poet has sung of their sorrows ;* innumerable writers of books have * Lontrfellow, in " Evans-eline." 336 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat referred to their expulsion in terms of condemnation ; and 80 the matter has grown until it came to be almost a set- tled ojDinion that the expulsion of the Acadians was some- thing which could not be justified, and of which its au- thors should have been ashamed. That is the view whicii one historian of Nova Scotia gives of the affair. Perhaps those who examine the whole matter impartially, in the light of all the facts, will come to the conclusion that it would have been a real cause for shame had the Acadians been permitted longer to misuse the clemency of the gov- ernment, to plot against British power, and to obstruct the settlement of the province by loyal subjects. One statement has been very industriously circulated by French writers with a view to throw odium on the transaction. They say that the Acadians were expelled " because the greedy English colonists looked upon their fair farms with covetous eyes," and that the government was influenced by these pei'sons. A more flagrant untruth never was told. . . . None of the lands of the Acadians were settled by the English until several years after the French were expelled, and not until most of the lands had gone back to a state of nature in consequence of the breaking of the dikes. . . , Five years elapsed after the expulsion befoi-e the noble diked lands of Grand Pre were occupied by English settlers, and the lands of Annapolis were not occupied by the English until nine or ten years after the French had left them. . . . From motives of economy, if for no other reason, it was considei'ed highl}- desirable that the Acadians should remain on their lands, in order that they might supply the garrisons with pro- visions at a fair price, and so reduce the cost of maintain- ing them. It was also felt that the French, if they could be induced to become loyal subjects, would be a great source of strength to the colony, from their knowledge Hannay] the EXPULSIOy OF THE ACADIANS. 337 of wood-craft and from their friendly relations with the Indians. It was, therefore, on no pretext that this desire to keep the French in the province — which is attested by more than forty yeai's of forbearance — was succeeded by a determination to remove them from it. . . . It must be remembered that in 1755 England was entering on a great war with France, which, although it ended disastrously for the latter power, certainly commenced with the bal- ance of advantage in her favor. In such a death-struggle, it was evident that there was no room for half-way meas- ures, and that a weak polic}' would almost certainly be fatal to British power. Ever since the treaty- of Utrecht, a period of more than forty years, the Acadians had lived on their lands without complying with the terms on which they were to be permitted to retain them, which was to become British subjects. Although the soil upon which they lived was British territory, they claimed to be re- garded as " Neutrals," not liable to be called upon to bear arms either for or against the English. Their neutrality, however, did not prevent them from aiding the French to the utmost of their power and throwing every possible embarrassment in the way of the English. It did not prevent many of them from joining with the Indians in attacks on the garrison at Annapolis and on other Eng- lish fortified posts in Acadia. It did not prevent them from carrying their cattle and grain to Louisburg, Beau- sejour, and the river St. John, instead of to Halifax and Annapolis, when England and France were at war. It did not j^revent them from maintaining a constant corre- spondence with the enemies of England, or from acting the part of spies on the English and keeping Vergor at Beausejour informed of the exact state of their garrisons from time to time. It did not prevent them from being on friendl}^ terms with the savages, who beset the English 1. — p w 29 338 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat SO closely that an English settler could scarcely venture beyond his barn, or an English soldier beyond musket- shot of his fort, for fear of being killed and scalped. [The Acadians seem to have been badly advised. No interference was attempted with their religion, yet some of their priests acted as political agents of France, used all their influence to keep alive hos tility to the English, and induced many of the inhabitants to emigrate from the province. Several thousand Acadians in all thus emigrated, fourteen hundred of whom, led by a French officer, remained on the borders of the province, armed, and reinforced by a large body of In- dians. This fiict made the authorities more persistent in their efforts to force the inhabitants to take the oath of allegiance, and induced them to adopt measures to disarm them. Acadian deputies soon after came to Halifax, demanding that their guns should be restored, but persistently refusing to take the oath " to be faithful and loyal to his majesty George Second." Other negotiations ensued, but the deputies were determined to take no oath except one with a reservation that they should not be obliged to take up arms. Governor Lawrence in- sisted that they should become full British subjects, or they could not be permitted to remain in the country, declaring that they had always secretly aided the Indians, and many of them openly taken up arms against the British. To this they replied that they were determined, one and all, to quit their lands rather than take any other oath than that they had already taken. On Monday, the 28th of July, the final memorial of the inhabitants was received. They all firmly refused to take the unconditional oath of allegiance to the British government. In consequence, it was de- cided to expel them from the province.] The determination to remove the Acadians having been taken, it only remained to make such arrangements as seemed necessary to cany out the object effectually. The council decided that, in order to prevent them from re- turning and again molesting the English settlers, they should be distributed amongst the colonies from Massachu- setts to Virginia. On the 31st July, Governor Lawrence wrote to Colonel Monckton, stating the determination of Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 339 the government with reference to the Acadians, and in- forming him that as those about the isthmus had been found in arms, and were therefore entitled to no favor from the government, it was determined to begin with them first. He was informed that orders had been given to send a sufficient number of transports up the bay to take the Acadians of that district on board. Monckton was ordered to keep the measure secret until he could get the men into his power, so that he could detain them until the transports arrived. He was directed to secure their shallops, boats, and canoes, and to see that none of their cattle was driven away, they being forfeited to the crown. He was told that the inhabitants were not to be allowed to carry away anything but their ready money and house- hold furniture. He likewise received explicit directions as to the supply of provisions for the inhabitants while on the voyage. Lieutenant-Colonel Winslow, who was commanding the troops at Mines, received instructions relative to the re- moval of the Acadians in that district, dated the 11th August. He was told to collect the inhabitants together, and place them on boai'd the transports, of which there would be a number sufficient to transport two thousand persons, five hundred of whom were to be sent to North Carolina, one thousand to Virginia, and five hundred to Maryland. After the people were shipped he was ordered to march overland to Annapolis with a strong detachment to assist Major Handfield in removing the inhabitants of that river. Handfield's instructions were similar to those of Winslow, and he was informed that vessels sufficient to transport one thousand persons would be sent to Annapolis. Of these, three hundred were to be sent to Philadelphia, two hundred to New York, three hundred to Connecticut, and two hundred to Boston. 340 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannay [Each master of a transport bore a circular letter from Governor Lawrence to the governor of the province to which he was destined, giving his reasons for this extreme measure. These reasons were those alread}'' given, that the Acadians had persistently refused to take the oath prescribed by treaty forty years before, that their claim of neu- trality was a false one, that they had continually furnished the French and Indians with intelligence, provisions, and aid in annoying the English, that part of them had acted treacherously and part had broken into armed rebellion, that to drive them into Canada would but strengthen the enemy, and that the step taken was indispensably necessary to the security of the colony.] The work of removing the Acadians met with no success at Chignecto, where the population was large and compara- tively warlike. Boishebert, after being driven from the St. John, had betaken himself to Shediac, and from there he directed the movements of the Acadians of the isthmus. "When the English tried to collect the inhabitants for the pui-pose of removing them, they found that they had fled to the shelter of the woods, and when they attempted to follow them they were met by the most determined resist- ance. On the 2d September, Major Frye was sent with two hundred men from the garrison at Fort Cumberland [formerly Fort Beausejour] to burn the villages of Shepody, Petitcodiac, and Memramcook. At Shepody they burnt one hundred and eighty-one buildings, but found no inhabi- tants, except twenty-three women and children, whom they sent on board the vessel they had with them. They sailed up the Petitcodiac Eiver on the following day and burnt the buildings on both sides of it for miles. At length the vessel was brought to anchor, and fifty men were sent on shore to burn the chapel and some other buildings near it, when suddenly they were attacked by three hundred French and Indians under Boishebert and compelled to retreat with a loss of twenty-three men killed and* wounded, including Dr. March, who was killed, Haxnay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 341 and Lieutenant Billings, dangerously wounded. Boishe- bert was found to be too strong to be attacked even with the aid of the main body of troops under Major Frye, so the party had to return to Fort Cumberland, after having destroyed in all two hundred and fifty-three buildings and a large quantity of wheat and flax. At Mines Lieutenant-Colonel Winslow succeeded in ac- complishing his unpleasant duty without resistance. On the 2d September he issued an order to the inhabitants of the districts of Gi'and Pre, Mines, River Canard, and vi- cinity, commanding all the males from ten years upward to attend at the church in Grand Pre on the following Friday, the 5th September, to hear what his majesty had authorized him to communicate to them. The inhabitants attended in obedience to this summons to the number of upwards of four hundred, and were informed by Winslow that, in consequence of their disobedience, their lands and tenements, cattle, live-stock, and all their effects, excejDt their money and household goods, were forfeited to the crown, and they themselves were to be removed from the province. He told them, however, that he would take in the vessels with them as large a portion of their household effects as could be carried, and that families would not be separated, but conveyed in the same vessel. Finally, he told them that they should remain prisoners at the church until the time came for them to embark. At Piziquid, Captain Murray collected the male inhabitants in the same way to the number of nearly two hundred, and kept them in confinement. Considering the situation in which they were placed, they manifested but little emotion, and offered no resistance worthy of the name. The task of getting so many families together, and embarking them with their household effects, proved tedious, but finally it was accom- plished, and the inhabitants of Mines and Piziquid, to the I 29* 342 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hannat number of more than nineteen hundred persons, were got on board the transports, and carried away from their homes in Acadia to lands of which they knew nothing, and where their presence was not desired. At AnnapoHs many families took the alarm when the transj)ort8 arrived, and fled to the woods for safety, and much difficulty was experienced in collecting them. Hun- ger finally compelled most of them to surrender themselves, and upwards of eleven hundred were placed on board the vessels and sent away. One vessel with two hundred and twenty-six Acadians on board was seized by them in the Ba}' of Fundy, and taken into St. John, and the passen- gers she carried were not afterwards recaptured. The total number removed from Acadia in 1755 was somewhat in excess of three thousand souls. Some of them were taken to Massachusetts, some to Pennsylvania, some to Virginia, some to Maryland, some to North and South Carolina, and some even to the British "West Indies. Wherever they were taken they became for the time a public charge upon the colony, and were the occasion of much correspondence between the governments which were obliged to maintain them and that of Nova Scotia. Many of those who went to Georgia and South Carolina hired small vessels and set out to return to Acadia, and the gov- ernors of those colonies were very glad to facilitate their movements northward by giving them passes to voyage along their coasts. Several hundred of those who landed in Yirginia were sent by the government of that colony to England, where they remained for seven years, finally taking the oath of allegiance, and manj' of them returning to Acadia. A number of these people went from Virginia to the French West Indies, where they died in large num- bers. The great bulk of the Acadians, however, finally succeeded in returnino- to the land of their birth. Some Hannay] the expulsion OF THE ACADIANS. 343 got back in the course of a few months, others did not succeed in returning until many years had elapsed, yet they succeeded, nevertheless, and the ultimate loss of pop- ulation by their enforced emigration in 1755 was much less than would be supposed. [It must be admitted that the preceding narrative is, to a consider- able extent, a case of special pleading, by a writer determined to put the best face on a bad matter. The deportation of a whole people, against their consent, of which there are many cases in history, is necessarily attended with hardship and suffering which only the most extreme need can justify. It cannot fairly be said that this need ex- isted in the case of the Acadians. Though some of them were actively hostile to the English, the bulk of the people were quiet, industrious, and inoffensive, and the extent of their crime was that they refused to take an oath that would oblige them to bear arms against their coun- tr_yinen. The expulsion was one of those instances in which, it being difficult to distinguish between the sheep and the wolves, they are made to suffer together. The position of the English was an awkward one, and their action, though it occasioned much suffering and proved of no special utility, had much good argument in its favor. The resistance of the Acadians continued for twelve years longer, and not till 1767 did any considerable number of them consent to take the oath of allegiance required, though the whole country had long been English. Many of them had emigrated to the French West Indies. Of these a considerable number returned, disgusted with the government of those islands, and fully ready to take the oath. Others, who were surrounded by English colonies, did likewise. Each family, on doing so, received a grant of land from the government, and soon there arose an eagerness to take the oath of allegiance to England equal to the former determination to resist it.] 344 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmbs THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. ABIEL HOLMES. [The succeeding events of the war between the colonies we shall de- scribe with more brevity, lest the reader grow wearied with the details of battle and bloodshed which constitute all there is to offer. The year 1755 had ended with a balance of advantages between the two contestants. In the two years succeeding all the advantage lay with the French, and it was not until 1758 that the English began to make head against their opponents, in preparation for the decisive operations of the following year. The events of the years 1756, 1757, and 1758 are briefly but clearly described in Holmes's " Annals of America," a useful old work from which we make our present selection. Although the war had continued for two years in America, and been actively aided by the home powers, no declaration of war was made until 1756, the English king declaring war against France on ilay 17, , and the French king replying with a like declaration in the following month. Both powers now took more active measures to support the Avar. The Earl of Loudoun was appointed commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, while the Marquis de Montcalm took com- mand of the French forces in Canada. General Abercrombie was sent over in advance of Lord Loudoun, to take immediate command. Three expeditions were planned for the year's campaign, one of ten thousand men against Crown Point, one of six thousand against Ni- agara, and one of three thousand against Fort Duquesne. In addi- tion, two thousand men were to advance up the Kennebec Eiver and keep Canada in alarm. These forces were considerably greater than had hitherto been employed in America.] The command of the expedition against Crown Point was given to Major-General Winslow, who, on reviewing the provincial troops destined for that service, found them not much to exceed seven thousand men, — a number which, after deducting from it the necessary garrisons, was de- clared inadequate to the enterprise. The arrival of Brit- ish troops with General Abercrombie, while it relieved this Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 345 aifficulty, created a new one, which occasioned a tempo- ral'}' suspension of the projected expedition. The regula- tions of the crown respecting miUtaiy rank had excited great disgust in America ; and Winslow, when consulted on this delicate subject by Abercrombie, expressed his apprehensions that, if the result of a junction of British and provincial troops should be the placing of provincials under British oiEcers, it would produce very general dis- content, and perhaps desertion. To avoid so serious an evil, it was finally agreed that British troops should succeed the provincials in the posts then occupied by them, so as to enable the whole colonial force to proceed under Winslow against Crown Point. . . . Scarcely was this point of honor satisfactorily adjusted, when the attention of both British and provincial soldiers was arrested to a more serious subject. M. Montcalm, who succeeded the baron Dieskau in the • chief command of the French forces in Canada, approached Fort Ontario at Oswego on the 10th of August with more than five thousand regulars, Canadians, and Indians. Having made the necessary dispositions, he opened the trenches on the 12th at midnight, with thirty-two pieces of cannon, besides several brass mortars and howitzers. The garrison having fired away all their shells and am- munition. Colonel Mercer, the commanding officer, oi'dered the cannon to be spiked up, and crossed the river to Little Oswego Fort, without the loss of a single man. The enemy, taking immediate possession of the deserted fort, began a fire from it which was kept up without intermis- sion. About four miles and a half up the river was Fort George, the defence of which was committed to Colonel Schuyler. On the abandonment of the first fort by Colonel Mercer, about three hundred and seventy of his men had joined Colonel Schuyler, in the intention of having an 346 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes intercourse between his fort and that to which their own commander retreated ; but a body of twenty -five hundred Canadians and Indians boldly swam across the river in the night between the 13th and 14th and cut off that commu- nication. On the 13th, Colonel Mercer was killed by a cannon-ball. The garrison, deprived of their commander, who was an officer of courage and experience, frustrated in their hope of aid, and destitute of a cover to their fort, demanded a capitulation on the following day, and surren- dered as prisoners of war. They were the regiments of Shirley and Pepperell, and amounted to fourteen hundred men. The conditions required, and acceded to, were that they should be exempted from plunder, conducted to Montreal, and ti*eated with humanity. No sooner was Montcalm in possession of the two forts at Oswego than, with admirable policy, he demolished them in presence of • the Indians of the Six Nations, in whose country they had been erected, and whose jealousy they had excited. On this disastrous event, every plan of offensive operation was immediately relinquished. [All the forces which had been raised remained on the defensive, in anticipation of possible advances by the French. The only active operation was against the Indians of western Pennsylvania, who, since the event of Braddock's defeat, had severely raided the outlying settlements.] Fort Granby, on the confines of Pennsylvania, was sur- prised by a party of French and Indians, who made the garrison prisoners. Instead of scalping the captives, they loaded them with flour, and drove them into captivity. The Indians on the Ohio, having killed above a thousand of the inhabitants of the western frontiers, were soon chastised with military vengeance. Colonel Armstrong, with a party of two hundi'ed and eighty provincials, Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 347 marched from Fort Shirley, which had been built on the Juniata Eiver, about one hundred and fifty miles west of Philadelphia, to Kittanning, an Indian town, the rendez- vous of those murdering Indians, and destroyed it. Captain Jacobs, the Indian chief, defended himself through loop- holes of his log-house. The Indians refusing the quarter which was offered them. Colonel Armstrong ordered their houses to be set on fire ; and many of the Indians were suffocated and burnt ; others were shot in attempting to reach the river. The Indian captain, his squaw, and a boy called the King's Son were shot as they were getting out of the window, and were all scalped. It was computed that between thirty and forty Indians were destroyed. Eleven English prisoners were released. [The plan of proceedings for the year 1757 was less complex than that for the preceding year, but was no more successful. Leaving the frontier posts strongly garrisoned, Lord Loudoun determined on the siege of the highly-important fortress of Louisburg, on Cape Breton, with all his disposable force. But after reaching Halifax with his fleet and army he learned that Louisburg was garrisoned with six thousand French regulars, in addition to the provincials, and that seventeen line-of-battle ships were in the harbor. This destroyed all hope of success, and the expedition was abandoned. In September, the British fleet, cruising ofl" Louisburg, narrowly escaped destruction from a violent gale, which drove one frigate ashore and seriously injured most of the others. The only military advantage of the year was gained by the French under Montcalm, in an expedition against Fort William Henry, which had been erected by Johnson at the scene of his victory two years before.] The Marquis de Montcalm, availing himself of the ab- sence of the principal part of the British force, advanced with an army of nine thousand men and laid siege to Fort William Henry. The garrison at this fort consisted of be- tween two thousand and three thousand regulars, and its fortifications were strong and in very good order. For the 348 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes farther security of this important post, General Webb was stationed at Fort Edward with an army of four thousand men. The French commander, however, urged his ap- proaches with such vigor that, within six days after the investment of the fort, Colonel Monroe, the commandant, after a spirited resistance, surrendered b}^ capitulation. The garrison was to be allowed the honors of war, and to be protected against the Indians until within the reach of Fort Edward; but no sooner had the soldiers left the place than the Indians in the French army, disregarding the stipulation, fell upon them and committed the most cruel outrages. The British officers complained that the troops wei*e pil- laged, and that the men were dragged out of the ranks and tomahawked, before the exertions of the Marquis de Montcalm to restrain the savages were effectual. Carver says the captured troops were, by the capitulation, to be allowed covered wagons to transj^ort their baggage to Fort f]dward, and a guard to protect them; that the promised guard was not furnished ; and that fifteen hundred persons were either killed or made prisoners by the Indians. . . . Miuot says, " The breach of this capitulation, whether vol- untary or unavoidable on the part of the French, was a most interesting subject of reproach at the time, and long continued to fill the British colonists with indignation and horror." A great part of the prisoners, he observes, were pillaged and stripped, and many of them murdered, by the savages; some reached Fort Edward in a scattering man- ner, and others returned again to the French. [This disastrous event has seriously tarnished the fair fame of the Marquis de Montcahn. To what extent he and his officers intervened to stop the butchery is uncertain, but there is good reason to believe that the French in general permitted the massacre to go on with scarce an effort to stop it. General Webb is also severely blamed by his- Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 349 torians for not reinforcing Monroe, and is accused of cowardice, for which accusation his behavior gave abundant warrant. The mas- sacre was the more terrible in that there were many women and chil- dren in the retreating column, who were killed indiscriminately with the men. The Indians present with the English were taken pris- oners by their foes and reserved for the more horrible fate of death by torture. The year 1158 opened gloomily for the British colonies. The suc- cesses of the year before had all been in favor of the French, and they now occupied positions which gave them special advantages in the continuance of the war. The taking of Oswego had destroyed all English control of the Northern lakes ; the capture of Fort "William Henry gave the French possession of Lakes Champlain and George, and a position in the heart of the British territory ; and the retention of Fort Duquesne gave them possession of the country west of the Alleghanies, and enabled them to exert a powerful influence over the Indians. Yet, despite this gloomy aspect of affairs, the British pre- pared for the next year's campaign with unabated energy and courage. William Pitt, now prime minister of England, put all his vigor and ability into the prosecution of the war. Twelve thousand troops were sent over under General Amherst, and General Abercrombie, who was now made commander-in-chief of the British forces, was at the head of much the greatest army as yet ever seen in America, consisting of fifty thousand men, of whom twenty-two thousand were regular troops.] Three expeditions were proposed for this year : the first, against Louisburg ; the second, against Ticonderoga and Crown Point ; and the third, against Fort Duquesne. On the first expedition, Admiral Boscawen sailed from Hali- fax on the 28th of May, with a fleet of twenty ships of the line and eighteen frigates, and an army of fourteen thousand men under the command of General Amherst, and arrived before Louisburg on the 2d of June. The gar- rison of that place, commanded by the Chevalier de Dra- court, an officer of courage and experience, Avas composed of two thousand five hundred regulai-s, aided by six hun- dred militia. The harbor being secured by five ships of I. 30 350 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes the line, one fifty-gun ship, and five frigates, three of which were sunk across the mouth of the basin, it was found necessary to land at some distance from the town. When, with some difiiculty but little loss, the landing was effected at the creek of Cormoran, and the artillery and stores were brought on shore, General "Wolfe was detached with two thousand men to seize a post occupied by the enemy at the Lighthouse point, from which the ships in the harbor and the fortifications in the town might be greatly annoyed. On the approach of that gallant officer, the post was abandoned ; and several very strong batteries were erected there. Approaches were also made on the opposite side of the town, and the siege was pressed with resolute but slow and cautious vigor. A very heavy can- nonade being kept up against the town and the vessels in the harbor, a bomb at length set on fire and blew up one of the great ships, and the flames were communicated to two others, which shared the same fate. The English admiral now sent six hundred men in boats into the har- bor, to make an attempt on the two ships of the line which still remained in the basin ; and one of them, that was aground, was destroyed, and the other was towed off in triumph. This gallant exploit putting the English in complete possession of the harbor, and several breaches being made practicable in the works, the place was deemed no longer defensible, and the governor offered to capitu- late. His terms, however, were refused ; and it was re- quired that the garrison should surrender as prisoners of war, or sustain an assault by sea and land. These hu- miliating terms, though at first rejected, were afterwards acceded to ; and Louisburg, with all its artillery, provis- ions, and military stores, as also Island Eoyal, St. John's, and their dependencies, were placed in the hands of the English, who, without further difficulty, took entire pos- Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 351 session of the island of Caj^e Breton. In effecting this conquest about four hundred of the assailants were killed or wounded. The conquerors found two hundred and twentj^-one pieces of cannon and eighteen mortars, with a very large quantity of stores and ammunition. The in- habitants of Cape Breton were sent to France in English ships; but the garrison, sea-officers, sailors, and marines, amounting collectively to five thousand six hundred and thirty-seven, were carried prisoners to England. The gar- rison lost upwards of fifteen hundred men, and the town was left '■' almost a heap of ruins." The armies intended for the execution of the plans against Ticonderoga and Fort Duquesne were to rendez- vous at Albany and Philadelphia. The first was com- manded by General Abercrombie, and consisted of upwards of fifteen thousand men, attended by a formidable train of artillery. On the 5th of July the general embarked his troops on Lake Geoi'ge, on board of one hundred and twenty-five whale-boats and nine hundred bateaux. His first operations were against Ticonderoga. After debarka- tion at the landing-place in a cove on the west side of the lake, the troops were formed into four columns, the British in the centre and the provincials on the flanks. In this order they marched towards the advanced guard of the French, which, consisting of one battalion only, posted in a logged camp, destroyed what was in their power and made a precipitate retreat. While Abercrombie was continuing his march in the woods, towards Ticonderoga, the columns were thrown into confusion, and in some degree entangled with each other. At this juncture. Lord Howe, at the head of the right centre column, fell in with a part of the ad- vanced guard of the enemy which was lost in the wood in retreating from Lake George, and immediately attacked and dispersed it, killing a considerable number, and taking 352 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes one hundred and forty-eight prisoners. In this skirmish, Lord Howe fell on the first fire. The English army, without farther opposition, took pos- session of a post within two miles of Ticonderoga. Aber- crombie, having learned from the prisoners the strength of the enemy at that fortress, and from an engineer the condition of their works, resolved on an immediate storm, and made instant disposition for an assault. The troops, having received orders to march up briskly, rush upon the enemy's fire, and reserve their own till they had passed a breastwork, marched to the assault with great intrepidity. Unlooked-for impediments, however, occurred. In front of the breastwork, to a considerable distance, trees had been felled with their branches outward, many of which were sharpened to a point, by means of which the as- sailants were not only retarded in their advance, but, be- coming entangled among the boughs, were exposed to a very galling fire. Finding it imj^racticable to pass the breastwork, which was eight or nine feet high, and much stronger than had been represented, General Abercrombie, after a contest of nearly four hours, ordered a retreat, and the next day resumed his former camp on the south side of Lake George. In this ill-judged assault nearly two thousand of the assailants were killed and wounded, of which number towards four hundred were provincials. Almost half of the Highland regiment, commanded by Lord John Murray, with twenty-five of its officers, were either killed or desperately wounded. The loss of the enemy, who were covered during the whole action, was inconsiderable. [This severe defeat put an end to the expedition against Crown Point. One success, however, was gained. Abercrombie detached three thousand men under Colonel Bradstreet on an expedition which the colonel had proposed against Fort Frontenac, an important post on Holmes] THREE YEARS OF WARFARE. 353 the western shore of the outlet of Lake Ontario, at the site of the present city of Kingston. Bradstreet marched to Oswego, embarked on the hike, and landed near the fort on August 25. Two days' siege compelled a surrender, and the post with all its contents fell into his hands. Having destroyed it, and the vessels in the harbor, he with- drew his forces.] The demolition of Fort Frontenac facilitated the reduc- tion of Fort Duquesne. General Forbes, to whom this enterprise was intrusted, had marched early in July from Philadelphia at the head of the army destined for the expedition ; but such delays were experienced, it was not until September that the Virginia regulars, commanded by Colonel Washington, were ordered to join the British troops at Raj'stown. Before the army was put in motion, Major Grant was detached with eight hundred men, partly British and partly provincials, to reconnoitre the fort and the adjacent country. Having invited an attack from the French garrison, this detachment was surrounded by the enemy ; and after a brave defence, in which three hundred men were killed and wounded. Major Grant and nineteen other officers were taken prisoners. General Forbes, with the main army, amounting to at least eight thousand men, at length moved forward from Raystown, but did not reach Fort Duquesne until late in November. On the evening preceding his arrival, the French garrison, de- serted by their Indians, and unequal to the maintenance of the place against so formidable an army, had abandoned the fort, and escaped in boats down the Ohio. The Eng- lish now took possession of that important fortress, and, in compliment to the popular minister, called it Pittsburg. No sooner was the British flag erected on it than the nu- merous tribes of the Ohio Indians came in and made their submission to the English. General Forbes, having con- cluded treaties with these natives, left a garrison of pro- x.—x 30* 354 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes vincials in the fort, and built a block-house near Loyal Hannan ; but, worn out with fatigue, he died before he could reach Philadelphia. [Other advantages were gained by the English, and, despite the repulse at Ticonderoga, the balance of success in the year's operations was decidedly on the side of the British forces. One remarlcable per- sonal adventure of the war we may select, in conclusion, its hero being the afterwards celebrated general Israel Putnam.] "While the intrenchraents of Abercrombie enclosed him in security, M. de Montcalm was active in harassing the frontiers, and in detaching parties to attack the convoys of the English. Two or three convoj^s having been cut off by these parties, Major Eogers and Major Putnam made excursions from Lake George to intercept them. The enemy, apprised of their movements, had sent out the French partisan Molang, who had laid an ambuscade for them in the woods. "While proceeding in single file in three divisions, as Major Putnam, who was at the head of the first, was coming out of a thicket, the enemy rose, and with discordant yells and whoops attacked the right of his division. Surprised, but not dismayed, he halted, returned the fire, and passed the word for the other divis- ions to advance for his support. Perceiving it would be impracticable to cross the creek, he determined to main- tain his ground. The officers and men, animated by his example, behaved with gi-eat bravery. Putnam's fusee at length missing fire, while the muzzle was jjresented against the breast of a large and well-proportioned In- dian, this warrior, with a tremendous war-whoop, instantly sprang forward with his lifted hatchet and compelled him to surrender, and, having disarmed him and bound him fast to a tree, returned to the battle. The enemy were at last driven from the field, leaving their dead behind Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT qUEBEC. 355 them ; Putnam was untied by the Indian who had made him prisoner, and carried to the place where they were to encamp that night. Besides many outrages, they inflicted a deep wound with a tomahawk upon his left cheek. It being determined to roast him alive, they led him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tree, piled combustibles at a small distance in a circle round him, and, with horrid screams, set the pile on fire. In the instant of an expected immolation, Molang rushed through the crowd, scattered the burning brands, and unbound the victim. The next day Major Putnam was allowed his moccasons, and permitted to march without carrying any pack ; at night the party arrived at Ticon- deroga, and the prisoner was placed under the care of a Frencli guard. After having been examined by the Mar- quis de Montcalm, he was conducted to Montreal by a French officer, who treated him with the greatest indul- gence and humanity. The capture of Fort Frontenac affording occasion for an exchange of prisoners, Major Putnam was set at liberty. WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. WASHINGTON IRVING. [According to the plan of operations for 1759, General "Wolfe, whose bravery at Louisburg had gained him great favor, was to ascend the St. Lawrence with a fleet of war-vessels and an army of eight thou- sand men, as soon as the river should be clear of ice, and lay siege to Quebec. General Amherst was to advance by the often-attempted road of Lake George, with the purpose of reducing Ticonderoga and Crown Point, then to cross Lake Champlain and push on to co-operate with "Wolfe. A third expedition, under General Prideaux, assisted by Sir 356 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving William Johnson and his Indians, was to attack Fort Niagara. Am« herst's expedition consisted of nearly twelve thousand men. The forts threatened had no hope of a successful resistance against such a force, and they were deserted as the English army advanced, their garrisons retiring towards Montreal. Instead of pursuing, Amhei-st stopped to repair the works at Ticonderoga and build a new fort at Crown Point, useless measures just then, and causing a delay which deprived Wolfe of very desirable assistance. The expeditions of Prideaux and Wolfe proved more valuable in their results. We select a description of them from Irving's " Life of Washington," in which the exploits of Wolfe are described with all the clearness and rhetorical beauty of this excellent historian.] General Prideaux embarked at Oswego on the 1st of July, with a large body of troops, regulars and provincials, — the latter partly from UTew Yoi*k. He was accompanied by Sir William Johnson and his Indian braves of t^e Mo- hawk. Landing at an inlet of Lake Ontario, within a few miles of Fort Niagara, he advanced, without being opposed, and proceeded to invest it. The garrison, six hundred strong, made a resolute defence. The siege was carried on by regular approaches, but pressed with vigor. On the 20th of July, Prideaux, in visiting his trenches, was killed by the bursting of a cohorn. Informed by express of this misfortune. General Amherst detached from the main army Brigadier-General Gage, the officer who had led Braddock's advance, to take the command. In the mean time the siege had been conducted by Sir William Johnson with courage and sagacity. He was des- titute of military science, but had a natural aptness for Avarfare, especially for the rough kind carried on in the wilderness. Being informed b}'' his scouts that twelve hundred regular troops, drawn from Detroit, Yenango, and Presque Isle, and led by D'Aubry, with a number of Indian auxiliaries, were hastening to the rescue, he de- tached a force of grenadiers and light infantry, with some Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 357 of his Mohawk warriors, to intercept them. They came in sight of each other on the road between Niagara Falls and the fort, within the thundering sound of the one and the distant view of the other. Johnson's "braves" ad- vanced to have a parley with the hostile red-skins. The latter received them with a war-whoop, and Frenchman and savage made an impetuous onset. Johnson's regulars and pi'ovincials stood their ground firmly, while his red warriors fell on the flanks of the enemy. After a sharp conflict, the French were broken, routed, and pursued through the woods, with great carnage. Among the pris- oners taken were seventeen officers. The next day Sir William Johnson sent a trumpet, summoning the garrison to surrender, to spare the eff'usion of blood and prevent outrtiges by the Indians. They had no alternative ; were permitted to march, out with the honors of war, and were protected by Sir William from his Indian allies. [This victory secured the key of communication between Lakes On- tario and Erie, and to the vast interior region surrounding. But more important events were to follow.] Wolfe, with his eight thousand men, ascended the St. Lawrence in the fleet, in the month of June. With him came Brigadiers Monckton, Townshend, and Murraj-, youthful and brave like himself, and, like himself, already schooled in arms. Monckton, it will be recollected, had signalized himself, when a colonel, in the expedition in 1755 in which the French were driven from Nova Scotia. The grenadiei's of the army were commanded by Colonel Guy Carleton, and part of the light infantry by Lieutenant- Colonel William Howe, both destined to celebrity in after- years, in the annals of the American Eevolution. Colonel Howe was a brother of the gallant Lord Howe, whose fall in the preceding year was so generally lamented. Among 358 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irvinq the officers of the fleet was Jervis, the future admiral, and ultimately Earl St. Vincent, and the master of one of the ships was James Cook, aftei'wards renowned as a dis- coverer. About the end of June, the troops debarked on the large, populous, and well-cultivated Isle of Orleans, a little below Quebec, and encamped in its fertile fields. Quebec, the citadel of Canada, was strong by nature. It was built round the point of a rocky pi-omontory, and flanked by precipices. The crystal current of the St. Lawrence swept by it on the right, and the river St. Charles flowed along on the left before mingling with that mighty stream. The place was tolerably fortified, but ai't had not yet rendered it, as at the present day, impregnable. Montcalm commanded the post. His troops were more numerous than the assailants ; but the greater part were Canadians, many of them inhabitants of Quebec ; and he had a host of savages. His forces were drawn out along the northern shore below the city, from the river St. Charles to the Falls of Montmorency, and their position was secured by deep intrenchments. The night after the debarkation of Wolfe's troops a furious storm caused great damage to the transports, and sank some of the small craft. While it was still raging, a number of fire-ships, sent to destroy the fleet, came driving down. They were boarded intrepidly by the British sea- men, and towed out of the way of doing harm. After much resistance, Wolfe established batteries at the west point of the Isle of Orleans, and at Point Levi, on the right (or south) bank of the St. Lawrence, within cannon- range of the city, — Colonel Guy Carleton commander at the former battery, Brigadier Monckton at the latter. From Point Levi bomb-shells and red-hot shells were dis- charged ; many houses were set on fire in the upper town, iRViNbr] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 359 the lower town was reduced to rubbish ; the main fort, however, remained unharmed. Anxious for a decisive action, Wolfe, on the 9th of Jul}-, ci-ossed over in boats from the Isle of Orleans to the north bank of the St. Lawrence, and encamped below the Mont- morency. It was an ill-judged position, for there was still that tumultuous stream, with its rocky banks, between him and the camp of Montcalm ; but the ground he had chosen was higher than that occupied by the latter, and the Montmorenc}^ had a ford below the falls, passable at low tide. Another ford was discovered, three miles within land, but the banks were steep, and shagged with forest. At both fords the vigilant Montcalm had thrown up breast- works and posted troops. On the 18th of July, Wolfe made a reconnoitring expe- dition up the river with two armed sloops and two trans- ports with troops. He passed Quebec unharmed, and care- fully noted the shores above it. Euggcd cliffs rose almost from the water's edge. Above them, he was told, was an extent of level ground, called the Plains of Abraham, by which the upper town might be approached on its weakest side; but how was that plain to be attained, when the cliffs, for the most part, were inaccessible, and every prac- ticable place fortified ? He returned to Montmorency disappointed, and resolved to attack Montcalm in his camp, however difficult to be approached, and however strongly posted. Townshend and Murra}^, with their brigades, were to cross the Mont- morency at low tide, below the falls, and storm the redoubt thrown up in front of the ford. Monckton, at the same time, was to cross with part of his brigade, in boats from Point Levi. The ship Centurion, stationed in the channel, was to check the fire of a battery which commanded the ford ; a train of artillery, planted on an eminence, was to 360 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving enfilade the enemy's intrenchments; and two armed flat- bottomed boats were to be run on shore, near the redoubt, and favor the crossing of the troops. As usual in complicated orders, part were misunder stood or neglected, and confusion was the consequence. Many of the boats from Point Levi ran aground on a shalloAv in the river, where they were exposed to a severe fire of shot and shells. Wolfe, who was on the shore, directing everj'thing, endeavored to stop his impatient troops until the boats could be got afloat and the men landed. Thirteen companies of grenadiers and two hun- dred 2}rovincials were the first to land. Without waiting for Brigadier Monckton and his regiments, without wait- ing for the co-operation of the troops under Townshend, without waiting even to be drawn up in form, the grena- diers rushed impetuously towards the enemy's intrench- ments. A sheeted fire mowed them down, and drove them to take shelter behind the redoubt, near the ford, which the enemy had abandoned. Here they remained, unable to form under the galling fire to which they were exposed whenever they ventured from their covert. Monckton's brigade at length was landed, drawn up in order, and advanced to their relief, driving back the enemy. Thus protected, the grenadiers retreated as pre- cipitately as they had advanced, leaving many of their comrades wounded on the field, who were massacred and scalped in their sight by the savages. The delay thus caused was fatal to the enterprise. The day was advanced ; the weather became stormy ; the tide began to make; at a later hour retreat, in case of a second repulse, would be impossible. Wolfe, therefore, gave up the attack, and withdrew across the river, having lost upwards of four hundred men through this headlong impetuosity of the grenadiers. The two vessels which had been run aground Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 361 were set on fire, lest they should fall into the hands of the enemy. Brigadier Murray was now detached with twelve hun- dred men, in transports, to ascend above the town and co-operate with Rear-Admirai Holmes in destroying the enemy's shipping and making descents upon the north shore. The shipping was safe from attack ; some stores and ammunition were destroyed, some prisoners taken, and Murray returned with the news of the capture of Fort Niagara, Ticonderoga, and Crown Point, and that Amherst was preparing to attack the Isle aux jSToix. Wolfe, of a delicate constitution and sensitive nature, had been deeply mortified by the severe check sustained at the Falls of Montmorency, fancying himself disgraced ; and these successes of his fellow-commanders in other parts increased his self-upbraiding. The difiiculties multi- plying around him, and the delay of General Amherst in hastening to his aid, preyed incessantly on his spirits ; he was dejected even to despondency, and declared he would never return without success, to be exposed, like other unfortunate commanders, to the sneers and reproaches of the populace. The agitation of his mind, and his acute sensibility, brought on a fever, which for some time in- capacitated him from taking the field. In the midst of his illness he called a council of war, in which the whole plan of operations was altered. It was determined to convey troops above the town, and endeavor to make a diversion in that direction, or draw Montcalm into the open field. Befoi'e carrying this plan into effect, Wolfe again reconnoitred the town in company with Admiral Saunders, but nothing better suggested itself The brief Canadian summer was over; they were in the month of September. The camp at Montmorency was broken up. The troops were transported to Point Levi, I.— Q 31 362 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irvisq leaving a sufficient number to man the batteries on the Isle of Orleans. On the 5th and 6th of September the embarkation took place above Point Levi, in transports which had been sent up for the purpose. Montcalm de- tached De Bougainville with fifteen hundred men to keep along the north shore above the town, watch the move- ments of the squadron, and prevent a landing. To deceive him, Admiral Holmes moved with the ships of war three leagues beyond the place where the landing was to be attempted. He was to drop down, however, in the night, and protect the landing. Cook, the future discoverer, also, was emploj'ed with others to sound the river and place buoys opposite the camp of Montcalm, as if an attack were meditated in that quarter. Wolfe was still suffering under the effects of his late fever. " My constitution."' wi'ites he to a friend, " is en- tirely ruined, without the consolation of having done any considerable service to the state, and without any prospect of it." Still he was unremitting in his exertions, seeking to wipe out the fancied disgrace incurred at the Falls of Montmorency. It was in this mood he is said to have composed and sung at his evening mess that little cam- paigning song still linked with his name: " Why, soldiers, why Should we be melancholy, boys ? Why, soldiers, why, — Whose business 'tis to die ?" Even when embarked in his midnight enterprise, the presentiment of death seems to have cast its shadow over him. A midshipman Avho was present used to relate that, as Wolfe sat among his officers, and the boats floated down silently with the current, he recited, in low and touching tones, Gray's Elegy in a Country Churchyard, then just Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT qUEBEC. 363 published. One stanza may especially have accorded with his melancholy mood : " The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, Await alike the inevitable hour : The paths of glory lead but to the grave." "Now, gentlemen," said he, when he had finished, "I would rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec." The descent was made in flat-bottomed boats, past mid- night, on the 13th of September. They dropped down silently with the swift current. '^Qui va Id?" (Who goes there?) cried a sentinel from the shore. " La France," re- plied a captain in the first boat, who understood the French language. "J. quel regiment f^ was the demand. "i)e la Heine" (The queen's), replied the captain, knowing that regiment was in De Bougainville's detachment. Fortu- nately, a convoy of provisions was expected down from De Bougainville, which the sentinel supposed this to be. " Fasse," cried he, and the boats glided on without further challenge. The landing took place in a cove near Cape Diamond, which still bears Wolfe's name. He had marked it in reconnoitring, and saw that a cragged path straggled up from it to the Heights of Abraham, which might be climbed, though with difficulty* and that it appeared to be slightl}'' guarded at top. Wolfe was among the first that landed and ascended up the steep and narrow path, where not more than two could go abreast, and which had been broken up by cross-ditches. Colonel Howe, at the same time, with the light infantry and Highlanders, scrambled up the woody precipices, helping themselves by the I'oots and branches, and putting to flight a sergeant's guard posted at the summit. Wolfe drew up the men in order 364 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving as they mounted, and by the break of day found himself in possession of the fateful Plains of Abi'aham. Montcalm was thunderstruck when word was brought to him in his camp that the English were on the heights, threatening the weakest part of the town. Abandoning his intrenchments, he hastened across the river St. Charles and ascended the heights which slope up gradually from its banks. His force was equal in number to that of the English, but a great part was made up of colony troops and savages. When he saw the formidable host of regulars he had to contend with, he sent off swift messengers to summon De Bougainville with his detachment to his aid, and De Vaudreuil to reinforce him with fifteen hundred men from the camp. In the mean time he prepared to flank the left of the English line and force them to the opposite precipices. Wolfe saw his aim, and sent Briga- dier Townshend to counteract him with a regiment which was formed en potence, and supported b}^ two battalions, presenting on the left a double front. The French, in their haste, thinking they were to repel a mere scouting-party, had brought but three light field- pieces with them ; the English had but a single gun, which the sailors had dragged up the heights. With these they cannonaded each other for a time, Montcalm still waiting for the aid he had summoned. At length, about nine o'clock, losing all patience. -he led on his disciplined troops to a close conflict with small-arms, the Indians to support them with a galling fire from thickets and corn-fields. The French advanced gallantly, but irregularly, firing rapidly, but with little efi'ect. The English reserved their fire until their assailants were within forty yards, and then delivered it in deadly volleys. They suffered, how- ever, from the lurking savages, who singled out the oflS- cers. Wolfe, who was in front of the line, a conspicuous Irving] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 365 mark, was wounded by a ball in the wrist. He bound his handkerchief round the wound and led on the grenadiers, with fixed bayonets, to charge the foe, who began to waver. Another ball struck him in the breast. He felt the wound to be mortal, and feared his fall might dis- hearten his troops. Leaning on a lieutenant for support, " Let not my brave fellows see me drop," said he, faintly. He was borne off to the rear; water was brought to quench his thirst, and he was asked if he would have a surgeon. " It is needless," he replied ; " it is all over with me." He desired those about him to lay him down. The lieutenant seated himself^uj)on the ground, and supported him in his arms. " They run ! they run ! see how they run !" cried one of the attendants. " Who run ?" de- manded "Wolfe, earnestly, like one aroused from sleep. "The enemy, sir; they give w^ay everywhere." The spirit of the expiring hero flashed up. " Go, one of you, my lads, to Colonel Burton ; tell him to march Webb's regi- ment with all speed down to Charles Eiver, to cut off the retreat by the bridge." Then, tm-ning on his side, " N"ow, God be praised, I will die in peace!" said be, and expired, — soothed in his last moments by the idea that victory would obliterate the imagined disgrace at Montmorency. Brigadier Murray had indeed broken the centre of the enemy, and the Highlanders were making deadly havoc with their claymores, driving the French into the town or down to their works on the river St. Charles. Monekton, the first brigadier, was disabled by a wound in the lungs, and the command devolved on Townshend, who hastened to re-form the troops of the centre, disordered in pursuing the enemy. By this time De Bougainville appeared at a distance in the rear, advancing with two thousand fresh troops, but he arrived too late to retrieve the day. The gallant Montcalm had received his death-wound near St. I. 31* 366 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving John's Gate, while endeavoring to rally his flying troops, and had been borne into the town. Townshend advanced with a force to receive De Bougain- ville ; but the latter avoided a combat, and retired into woods and swamps, where it was not thought prudent to follow him. The English had obtained a complete victory, slain about five hundred of the enemy, taken above a thousand prisoners, and among them several officers, and had a strong position on the Plains of Abraham, which they hastened to fortify with redoubts and artillery, drawn up the heights. The brave Montcalm wrote a. letter to General Town- shend, recommending the prisoners to British hvimanity. When told by his surgeon that he could not survive above a few hours, " So much the better," replied he ; "I shall not live to see the surrender of Quebec." To De Eamsey, the French king's lieutenant, who commanded the garri- son, he consigned the defence of the city. " To your keeping," said he, " I commend the honor of France. I'll neither give orders, nor interfere any further. I have business to attend to of greater moment than your ruined garrison and this wretched country. My time is short : I shall pass this night with God, and prepare myself for death. I wish you all comfort, and to be happily ex- tricated from your present perplexities." He then called for his chaplain, who, with the bishop of the colony, re- mained with him through the night. He expired early in the morning, dying like a brave soldier and a devout Catholic. Never did two worthier foes mingle their life- blood on the battle-field than Wolfe and Montcalm. [This victory was quickly followed by a surrender of the city, whose garrison made no effort to defend it. It capitulated on the 17th of September, and was at once strongly occupied by the British, who hastened to put it in a strong defensive condition. Had Amherst Irvijjg] WOLFE AND MONTCALM AT QUEBEC. 367 followed up Wolfe's success by a prompt advance, the subjugation of Canada would have been completed that year. His delay gave the French time to rally, and enabled De Levi, the successor of Montcalm, to make a vigorous effort to recover the lost city.] In the following spring, as soon as the river St. Law- rence opened, he approached Quebec, and landed at Point au Tremble, about tAvelve miles off. The garrison had suffered dreadfully during the winter from excessive cold, want of vegetables and of fresh provisions. Many had died of scurvy, and many more were ill. Murray, san- guine and injudicious, and hearing that De Levi was advancing with ten thousand men and five hundred Indians, sallied out with his diminished forces of not more than thi-ee thousand. English soldiers, he boasted, were habituated to victory; he had a fine train of artillery, and stood a better chance in the field than cooped up in a wretched fortification. If defeated, he would defend the place to the last extremit}^, and then retreat to the Isle of Oi'leans and wait for reinforcements. More brave than discreet, he attacked the vanguard of the enemy. The battle which took place was fierce and sanguinarj^. Mur- ray's troops had caught his own "headlong valor, and fought until near a third of their number were slain. They were at length driven back into the town, leaving their boasted train of artillery on the field. De Levi opened trenches before the town the very evening of the battle. Three French ships, which had descended the river, furnished him with cannon, mortars, and ammunition. By the 11th of Ma}" he had one bomb batter}' and three batteries of cannon. Murray, equall}^ alert within the walls, strengthened his defences and kept up a vigorous fire. His garrison was now reduced to two hundred and twenty effective men, and he himself, with all his vaunting spirit, was driven almost to despair, when 368 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull a British fleet arrived in the river. The whole scene was now reversed. One of the French frigates was driven on the rocks above Cape Diamond ; another ran on shore and was burnt ; the rest of their vessels were either taken or destroyed. The besieging army retreated in the night, leaving provisions, implements, and artillery behind them ; and so rapid "w^as their flight that Murray, who sallied forth on the following day, could not overtake them. [A last stand was made at Montreal. But a force of nearly ten thousand men, with a host of Indians, gathered around the town, which was forced to capitulate on the 8th of September, including in the surrender not only Montreal, but all Canada.] Thus ended the contest between France and England for dominion in America, in which, as has been said, the first sun was fired in Washington's encounter with De Jumon- ville. A French statesman and diplomatist consoled him- self by the persuasion that it would be a fatal triumph to England. It would remove the only check by which her colonies were kept in awe. " They will no longer need her protection," said he ; " she will call on them to con- tribute towards supporting the burdens they have helped to bring on her, and they will answer by striking off all de- pendence."^ WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. BENJAMIN TRUMBULL. [The year of the taking of Quebec by General Wolfe was signalized by a war in the South, of much less importance than that just de- scribed, but of no less fury and determination in the combatants. This * Count de Yergennes, French ambassador at Constantinople. Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 369 was the war with the Cherokee Indians, one of the most vigorously contested of the Indian wars of the United States, but which ended, like all the others, in rapid subjection of the savages. As has been so frequently the case with Indian wars, this conflict originated in an act of cruel injustice on the part of the whites, a murderous outrage which drove the indignant aborigines into deeds of terrible reprisal and kin- dled the flames of war along the whole southern boundary of the colo- nies. The story of this conflict we select from Trumbull's " General History of the United States of America," in which valuable old work it is given in full detail.] During several of the first years of the war this numer- ous and powerful nation [the Cherokee] had appeared cor- dially to espouse the interests of the English. At their desire a fortress had been built in their country, called Fort Loudon, in honor to the Earl of Loudon, at that time commander-in-chief in America. Parties of them had as- sisted in the late expedition against Fort Duquesne. But it seems that while the}' were on that enterprise they were treated with such general coolness and neglect, and re- ceived such insults, as made deep impressions on the minds of that vindictive people. These were kindled into flame and outrage by the treatment which they receivetl from some of the Virginians on their return from that expe- dition. Many of the warriors had lost their horses in that service ; and, as they were returning home, through the back parts of "Virginia, they caught such as they found running loose in the woods, not knowing that they be- longed to any individual in the province. The Yirginians, instead of legally asserting their rights, fell on the unsus- picious warriors, killed twelve or fourteen of them, and took several prisoners. The Cherokees were highl}' ex- asperated at such ungrateful treatment from allies whose frontiers, by their assistance, had so lately been turned from a field of blood into peaceful habitations. ]S'o sooner had they returned, than they reported to the nation the 370 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull bloody treatment which they had received. The flame spread instantly through their towns. The relatives of the slain were implacable, and breathed nothing but ven- geance against such iingrateful and perfidious alHes. The French emissaries added fuel to the flames. In vain did the chieftains interpose their authority. Nothing could restrain the fury of the young warriors. They rushed down on the frontier settlements, and pei-petrated many cruel ravages and murders on the defenceless inhabitants. About two hundred soldiers, under the command of Captains Dewere and Stewart, were stationed at Fort Loudon. These, on every excursion from the fort, were attacked by them : some were killed, and the rest soon confined within the limits of the fort. All communication between them and the distant settlements was cut off, and, as their supplies were scanty, the only prospects before them were famine and death. It was feared, at the same time, that the arts of the enemy would influence the powerful neighboring nation of the Creeks to the same hostile measures. In this alarming situation. Governor Littleton gave orders to the commanders of the militia immediately to assemble their men and act on the defensive. The gov- ernor determined, with such independent companies and militia as could be raised, immediately to march into the enemy's countrj^, and to prosecute such measures as should bring them to reasonable terms of accommodation. [Despite what had been done by their young warriors, the leaders of the Cherokees had no desire for war. They sent thirty-two of their chief men to Charleston, with the hope of making a peace. These were haughtily received by the governor, who spoke to them with great severity and would not listen to a word of reply. He also held them virtually prisoners, requiring them to accompany his expedition.] Soon after the conference, the governor marched for the Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 371 Congarees. This was about a hundred and forty miles from Charleston, and the place of general rendezvous for the militia. Hither the sachems marched with the army, putting on the appearance of content, while inwardly they were burning with fury and resentment. The governor, having mustered about fourteen hundred men, of whom about three hundred were regulars, marched for Fort Prince George. When the army marched, the chieftains were all made prisoners ; and, to prevent their escape, a captain's guard was mounted over them. To complete their indignitj" and ill treatment, when the army arrived at Fort Prince George the thirty-two chieftains were shut up in a hut scarcely fit for the accommodation of half a dozen soldiers. They were not allowed to speak with their friends, nor even to see the light of day. When the governor had advanced as far as this post, he found his army so ill armed and disciplined, and so discon- tented and mutinous, that he judged it unsafe to proceed further against the enemy. Here, tnerefore, he opened a congress with the Indians. For this purpose he had pre- viously sent for Attakullakulla, otherwise Little Carpenter, who was not only esteemed the wisest man in the nation, but the most firmly attached to the English. This old warrior, though just returned from an excursion against the French, in which he had taken a number of prisoners, hastened to the governor's camp, and presented him with one of the captives. [The sachem, after a conference with the governor, requested that some of the head-men might be released, in order to assist him in bringing his people to terms of peace.] In compliance with his request, the governor released the great warrior Ouconnostota, and two more of the head-men. The next day the}' delivered up two Indians. 372 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Tkumbuli, The governor putting them immediately in irons, so alarmed the Cherokees that they fled out of the way and no more could be obtained. [As Attakullakulla now left the camp, despairing of making any accommodation, he was sent for to return by the governor, who con- cluded a treaty with him, holding twenty-two of the chieftains as hos- tages until as many of the warriors who had committed murder should be delivered up.] Scarcely had the governor finished the treaty, when the small-pox broke out in his camp. Few of the army had been infected with the disease, and the physicians were wholly unprovided for such an event. The men were struck with a general terror, and with the utmost haste returned to their respective settlements. Such was the fear which each had of his fellow, that all intercourse, on the return, was cautiously avoided. By this means the men suff'ered exceedingly with hunger and fatigue. The governor soon follo;ved them, and arrived safely at Charleston. Here, though a drop of blood had not been spilt, nor scarcely anything achieved but what was highly perfidious and inglorious, he was received as a conqueror. From different societies and professions he received the most flattering addresses. By illuminations and bonfires the citizens expressed the high sense which they enter- tained of his services and of the happy consequences of his expedition. [Their congratulations proved somewhat too hasty. The Indians were so incensed by the perfidy with which their messengers had been treated that they ignored the treaty of peace.] Attakullakulla, by reason of his known attachment to the English, had little influence with his countrymen. Ouconnostota, whose influence was great, was now become an implacable and vindictive enemy. He determined to Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 373 follow the example of the governor, and to repay mean- ness and perfidy in their own kind. No attention was paid to the treaty, but Ouconnostota, collecting a strong party, killed fourteen men in the neighborhood of Fort Prince George, surrounded the fort, and confined the gar- rison to their works. Finding that he could make no impression upon the fort, he contrived a stratagem for its surprisal, and the relief of his countrymen who were there in confinement. As the country was covei-ed with woods and dark thickets, it was favorable to his purposes. Having con- certed his measures, two Indian women, who were known to be alwaj^s welcome at the fort, made their appearance on the other side of the river, to decoy the garrison. Lieutenant Dogharty went out to them, to inquire what news. While he was conversing with the women, Oucon- nostota joined them, and desired Dogharty to call the commanding officer, saying that he had matters of impor tance to communicate to him. Accordingly, Captain Coty- more. Ensign Bell, Dogharty, and Foster, their interpreter, went out to him. He said that he was going to Charleston to procure the release of the prisoners, and wished for a white man for a safeguard. The captain told him he should have a safeguard. No sooner had he received the answer than, turning and giving a signal, nearly thirty guns were fired from diiferent ambuscades. The captain was killed, and Bell and Foster were wounded. In con- sequence of this, orders were given that the hostages should be put in irons. In attempting this, one of the soldiers was killed, and another wounded. These circum- stances so exasperated the garrison that, without hesita- tion, the}" fell on the unfortunate hostages, and butchered them in a manner too shocking to relate. In the evening the Indians approached the fort, and, I. 32 374 AMERICA X HISTORY. [Trumbull after firing signal-guns and crying aloud, in the Cherokee language, " Fight manfully and you shall be assisted," they commenced a furious attack on the garrison, and kept up their fire the whole night. But they were so warmly re- ceived that they were obliged to give over the attack. Disappointed in their design on the fort, and finding that their chieftains were slain, they wreaked their ven- geance on the English traders in their country. These they butchered, to a man, without mercy or distinction. In the massacre of the hostages the Cherokees had not only lost a great number of their head-men, but most of them had lost a friend or relation. Nothing, therefore, could exceed the resentment and rage of the nation. The leaders of every town seized the hatchet, proclaiming to their fellows that the spirits of murdered brothers were flying around them and calling for vengeance on their enemies. "With one voice the nation declared for war. Large parties of warriors, from different towns, rushed doAvn on defenceless families on the frontiers of Carolina, where men, women, and children, without distinction, fell a sacrifice to their merciless rage. At Long Canes, and about the forks of Broad Eiver, they made terrible carnage among the inhabitants, who, trusting to the late peace, were reposed in perfect security. About two hundred of the enemy made a furious attack on the fort at Ninety-Six ; but they were obliged to retire with considerable loss. This they revenged on the open country, ravaging the English houses in that quarter and all along the frontiers of Virginia. They were not satis- fied barely with pillaging and destroying the inhabitants, but they wantoned in the most horrible acts of barbarity. Many who fled into the woods and escaped the scalping- knife perished with hunger. Those who were made pris- oners were carried into the wilderness, where they suffered Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 375 inexpressible hardships. So secret and sudden were the motions of the enemy that it was impossible to tell where the storm would fall, or to take the precautions necessary to prevent the mischief Every day brought to the capital fresh accounts of their mui-ders and desolations. [It had become necessary to take energetic measures for defence and reprisal, and Colonel Montgomery was sent from General Amherst's army to Charleston, with a force of twelve hundred men. The prov- ince was now under a new governor, who took judicious measures for defence, while the army advanced rapidly into the enemy's country. Several Indian towns were burned, the magazines of provisions de- stroyed, and a considerable number of the savages killed and captured. The othei-s escaped to the mountains. Fort Prince George was relieved, and overtures of peace were made to the enemy.] Messages of peace producing no good effect, the colonel determined to make an attack on their middle settlements. He immediately began his march ; but his success in this enterprise was noways equal to that in his former. The enemy watched all his motions, and took every advantage and opportunity to distress him on his march. On the third day, as the army was advancing through a dangerous ground, the enemy attacked him in the most furious and obstinate manner. They commenced the action with their usual horrible screams and outcries, maintaining a severe fire from under cover. The troops were ranged in the most judicious manner, and firmly stood the enemy's charge. The fight was long, obstinate, and well maintained on both sides. At length, the colonel making a movement which brought the Eoyal Scots upon their right, the enemy gave wa.j and fled. The captain of the rangers, and about twent}' men, were killed, and nearly eighty wounded. It was supposed that the enemy lost about forty men. The army pushed forward about five miles, the succeeding evening, to Etchowee, one of the most considerable towns 376 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Trumbull in the middle settlements. But the Indians had removed their most valuable effects, and forsaken the town. The colonel was able to do them no other injury than to destroy a defenceless town. Hei-e they attacked his picket-guard with such fury that they were repulsed with difficulty. They also gave him repeated annoyance by their volleys from the surrounding hills. Though he had gained the field, and been able to advance after the action, yet it had the effect of a defeat. So many of his men had been wounded, and so many of his horses killed, that he found a retreat absolutely necessary to save the wounded men fi'om the massacre of the enemy. In the beginning of July he returned to Fort Prince George. The expedition had cost him five officers and about a hundred men, killed and wounded. [This expedition proved eventually more disadvantageous to the English than to their enemies. Colonel Montgomery now felt it necessary, under the orders he had received, to return north with his troops, and left hut about four hundred men to assist in defending the frontiers. As a result, the Southern colonies were again raided by the foe, whom Montgomery had but exasperated. Fort Loudon fell into their hands, and the garrison, in their march northward, were partly killed and the remainder made captive. Under these circumstances application was again made to General Amherst for assistance. It was now the year 1761, Canada was captured, and a force could easily be diverted south. It was determined to give the Indians a lesson that would force them to make peace.] In Maj^, the army, consisting of two thousand and six hundred men, advanced to Fort Prince George. Here At- takullakulla, having got intelligence of the force advancing against his nation, met Colonel Grant, and repeatedly en- treated him, by his friendship and many good services to the English, to proceed no further till he had once more used his influence with his nation to brins* them to an ac- Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 377 commodation. But Colonel Grant would, not listen to his solicitations. He immediately began his march for the middle settlements. A party of ninety Indians and thirty woodmen painted like Indians marched in front of the army and scoured the wood. After them followed the light infantry and about fifty rangers, consisting of about two hundred men. By the vigilance and activity of these the colonel designed to secure the main body from annoy- ance and surprise. During three days he made forced marches that he might pass several dangerous defiles which might cost him dear should the enemy first get the pos- session and warmly dispute the passage. These he passed without annoyance. But the next day, finding suspicious grounds on all sides, orders were given that the army should prepare for action, and that the guards should ad- vance slowly, doubling their cii'cumspection. As the army advanced in this cautious manner, about eight o'clock in the morning the enemy were discovered, by the advanced guard, nearly in the same ground where they attacked Colonel Montgomery the preceding year. Eushing down from the high grounds, they furiously attacked the ad- vanced guard. These were supported, and the action be- came general. A party of the enemy driven from the low grounds immediately ascended the hills under which the whole line was obliged to pass. On the left was a river, from the opposite banks of which they received a heavy fire as they advanced. While the line faced and gave their whole charge to the Indians on the bank of the river, a party was ordered to ascend the hills and drive the enemy from the heights. No sooner were they dislodged from the heights than they returned with redoubled ardor to the charge in the low grounds. These it appeared their determination obstinately to dispute. The situation of the troops soon became critical and distressing. They had I. 32* 378 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Tkumbuli. been greatly fatigued by forced marches iu rainy weather. They were galled by the fire of the enemy, so compassed with woods that they could neither discern nor approach them but with the greatest difficulty and danger. When they were pressed they always kept at a distance, but, rallying, returned again with the same fierceness and res- olution to the charge. No sooner were they driven from one place than they sprang up like furies in another. While the attention of the colonel was drawn to the enemy on the banks of the river, and employed in driving them from their lurking-places on that side, so fui'ious an attack was made on his rear-guard that he was obliged to order a detachment back to its relief, to save his cattle, provision, and baggage. From nine to eleven o'clock did the enemy maintain the action. Everywhere the woods resounded with the roar of arms and the hideous shouts and yells of savages. At length the Cherokees gave way, but as they were pursued they kept up a scattering shot till two o'clock. They then wholly disappeared. What loss the enemy sustained is not known, but tnat of Colonel Grant was about sixty men in killed and wounded. The army advanced as soon as possible, and about midnight arrived at Etchoe, a large Indian town. The next day it was reduced to ashes. There were fourteen other towns in the middle settlements, all which shared the same fate. The enemy's magazines, and their cornfields, amounting to not less than fourteen hundred acres, were utterly de- stroyed. The miserable inhabitants stood the silent spec- tators of the general destruction, and were obliged to re tire, to starve in the thickets and mountains. Nearly the same barbarities were practised toAvards them, by a civil- ized and Christian people, of which we so loudly complain when, in their manner of warfare, they are practised acrainst us. . . . Trumbull] WAR WITH THE CHEROKEES. 379 After nearly thirty days had been spent in works of destruction, the army returned to Fort Prince George. The various hardships it had endured in the wilderness, from watching, heat, thirst, danger, and fatigue, hardly admit of description. The feet and legs of many of the soldiers were so mangled, and their spirits so exhausted, that they were utterly incapacitated to proceed on their march. Colonel Grant determined, therefore, to encamp awhile at this post, both for the refreshment of his men and to get intelligence with respect to resolutions of the enemy. Soon after his arrival, Attakullakulla and several other chieftains of his nation came to the camp and expressed their wishes for peace. [Articles were drawn and signed by both parties.] Peace was established, and both parties expressed their wishes that it might continue as long as the rivers should run, or the sun shine. The whole North American conti- nent appeared now to be quieted. [But the quiet was only that of desistance from open warfare. A mental disquiet quickly followed which was, ere long, to lead to a war more terrible than any the continent had heretofore known.] 380 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris SECTION VI. THE THRESHOLD OF THE REVOLUTION. POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. CHARLES MORRIS. [The Fi-ench and Indian War had other important results than that of removing the great rival to English power in America. In this it cleared the field for another and greater war yet to come, while it edu- cated the colonists in the military art, and prepared them for the task of encountering the ablest soldiers of Europe in deadly conflict on their own soil. It served, also, as a school of training for many of the officers who were afterwards to grow prominent in the Kevolutionary War, and in particular gave to George Washington his first lessons in that art in which he was soon to acquire a world-wide fame. Names crop up throughout the course of this conflict which we shall meet in marked prominence in the events next to be described, — names not only of soldiers, but also of statesmen, for it is a political as well as a military revolution with which we have to deal, and its grand results are due to the legislator quite as much as to the soldier. The military struggle, indeed, was preceded by a long and fierce political contest, of which it formed the inevitable conclusion. For this contest the people of America had been prepared, not by their years of war, but by their years of peace, for the whole political history of the American colonies is a history of instruction in the principles of democracy, and the republic of the United States was only in an immediate sense the work of the men of the Kevolution, but in its fullest sense was the work of the colonists of America from their first entrance upon the trans- Atlantic shores. A consideration of the political struggle lead- ing to the war of independence, therefore, properl}^ requires a pre- ceding review of the political history of the colonies from their first Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 381 settlement, since only in this way can we comprehend the preparation of the whole people for the radical change of government they were so soon to undergo, and the strong spirit of democracy which stood behind the labors of congresses and conventions and gave the cue to the work which they were to perform. In default of finding any sufficiently brief statement of this political evolution in the works of historians, the editor offers the following outline sketch, as an essential prelimi- nary to the chapter of American history which now demands our attention.] The several British colonies of America were formed under a variety of differing conditions. The settlement of Yirginia was the work of a company of London mer- chants, that of New England of a body of Puritan refugees from persecution. Most of the other colonies were formed through the efforts of proprietors, to whom the king had made large grants of territory. None of them were of royal or parliamentary establishment, the nearest to this being the colony of New York, which was appi'opriated from its Dutch founders by the king's brother, — soon to become king himself. The government of the mother- country, therefore, took no part in the original formation of the government of the colonies, except in the some- what flexible requirements of the charters granted to the proprietors. Lord Baltimore was left at full liberty to establish a form of government for Maryland, William Penn for Pennsylvania, and the body of proprietors for the Carolinas, while the London Company of merchants largely used their own discretion in modelling that of Yirginia. As for the government of Plymouth, it was formed without any restriction or suggestion from abroad, by a body of men who had crossed the ocean to enjoy religious liberty and who were jDrepared by their previous history for the duties of self-goveimment. The Massachu- setts colony was a chartered one, but from the first it took its o-overnment into its own hands, and began to exist 382 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris under that same simple form of democracy which had been established by its Plj-mouth predecessor. In fact, a colony composed of equals, unprovided with a royal gov- ernor, and to a large extent unrestricted in its action, could scarcely assume any other than the one form of government, that of a democracy in which every man was a citizen and had a full voice in the management of affairs. There was only one restriction to this universal suffrage and self-government, — that of religious orthodoxy. The colonists were Puritan sectaries, and were determined that their form of religion alone should prevail in the colony. Not only were those of heterodox views incapa- ble of exercising full rights of citizenship, but they were soon driven from the community, as an element of dis- cordance hostile to the well-being of this bigoted body poli- tic. To the extent here indicated, therefore, democracy in America was first established in 1620, not in 1776. And it made considerable progress in New England and else- where ere it encountered any decided interference from the crown. The growth of this democratic spirit is of high interest, and is worthy of a much fuller considera- tion than we have space to devote to it. The first government of New England was formed on board the Mayflower, before the landing of the Pilgrims. It was the democratic government of the Puritan church congregation transferred to the body politic, the Pilgrims choosing their governor as they chose their pastor, by the voice of the congregation. " For eighteen years all laws were enacted in a general assembly of all the colonists. The governor, chosen annually, was but president of a council, in which he had a double vote. It consisted first of one, then of five, and finally of seven members, called assistants." The colonists gradually assumed all the pre- rogatives of government, even the power of capital punish- Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 383 ment. Yet so little' were political honors desired that it became necessary to fine those who, being chosen, declined to act as governor or assistant. The colony of Massachusetts Bay was organized under a charter granted by the king, but its primary manage- ment was of the same nature as that of Plymouth. In 1630 the charter and the government were transferred from England to Massachusetts, John Winthrop was chosen governor by the people, and the first General Court, or legislative assembly, was held at Boston on the 19th of October of that year. From that time until 1686 the people of New England governed themselves, under a system based on general election, all power being in the hands of the people, and the government essentially a republic. The only restriction to the right of franchise was the requirement that all citizens must be members of some church within the limits of the colony. In 1634 another important step of progress in self-government was made. Settlements were now dotted around the circum- ference of Massachusetts Bay, and it had become incon- venient for the citizens to exercise the duties of freemen in person. They thei'efore chose deputies to represent them, and the primitive form of democracy was changed to a representative one. In the formation of the other New England colonies the same principle of government was adopted. The con- stitution of the Connecticut settlements, formed in 1639, paid no heed to the existence of a mother-countrj^. The governor and legislature were to be chosen annually b}' the freemen, whose oath of allegiance was to the common- wealth, not to the English monarch, and the "general cotirt" possessed the sole power of making and repealing laws. The royal charter granted by Charles II. in 1662 fully confirmed the constitution which the people had thus 38-4 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris made for themselves. Ehode Island was chartered by the En<,4ish ParHament in 1644, and formal]}^ organized its government in 1647, adopting a democracy similar to that of the other colonies, except that there was no religious restriction to the rights of citizenship, it being declared that " all men might walk as their consciences persuaded them, without molestation, every one in the nam.e of his God." The colonies of Maine and Xew Hampshire became proprietary governments, under royal grants to Sir Ferdi- nando Gorges and Captain John Mason. But they quickly came under the influence of the Massachusetts colony, and in 1641 New Hampshire placed itself under the protection of Massachusetts and ignored the claims of the proprie- tors. Its adojDted form of government differed from that of Massachusetts onl}^ in the fact that neither the freemen nor the deputies of the colony were I'equired to be church members. In 1643 a further step of progress in the evolution of a representative republic was made. As a measure of pro- tection against the Indians and the other dangers which threatened them, the colonies of Massachusetts, Connec- ticut, New Haven, and Plymouth united themselves into a confederacy, under the title of The United Colonies of New England. Ehode Island was not admitted into this con- federacy, because she would not consent to be incorporated with Plymouth. New Hampshire, as we have seen, formed then a portion of the Massachusetts colony. The govern- ing body of the confederacy consisted of an annual As- sembly, composed of two deputies from each colony, which dealt with all matters relating to the common interests, while the separate interests of each colony were managed by its local government, as before. We perceive in the events above described a remarkable progress towards a federal republic, of the same type as Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 385 that now existing in the United States of xlmei-ica, and constituting a noble scliool for the teaching of those prin- ciples of self-government which have become so deeply in- stilled into the minds of the American people. It may seem strange that England so quietly permitted this colonial republic to be formed. But the governing powers of Eng- land had work enough for themselves at home. Originally the colonies were too insignificant for their acts to call for much attention, and when the home government did show some disposition to interfere with them, the colonists, with much shrewdness and show of respect, yet with great tenacity, held on to the rights they had acquired, and baffled by a policy of delay and negation every effort to interfere with their privileges. Ere long the English roj'alists became engaged in a death-struggle with de- mocracy at home, during which they had little leisure to attend to affairs abroad; and the subsequent overthrow of the government, and the establishment of a military de- mocracy in England, were circumstances highly favorable to the growth of republicanism in America. During this period the self-governing principle made progress in all the colonies, though largely through the example and in- fluence of New England. The people knew thoroughly what they were about, in the formation of the Xew England system of government. The doctrine of rotation in office was early established, " lest there should be a g-overnor for life." When it was proposed that the office should be a life one, the deputies immediately resolved that no magisterial office of any kind should be held for more than a year. In one case where a caucus of justices nominated certain pei-sons for election, the people took good care to elect none of the persons so proposed. Another important democratic prin- ciple was early adopted, that of making provision for the 386 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Mokris pay of public officers annually, and avoiding the fixation of salaries. This system proved very useful subsequently, in the conflict with the representatives of roj-alty. Origi- nally the councillors, with the governor, constituted the whole governing body. When representatives were first chosen they sat in the same room with the governor and council. In 1644 it was ordained that the two bodies should meet in separate chambers. Thus was first con- stituted the American legislature of two houses, the coun- cillors being annually chosen by the whole body of free- men, the representatives by the separate settlements. The local government of each townshij? remained in its own hands, and the whole organization was a miniatui-e prede- cessor of that now existing within the United States of America. It was distinctively democratic. The early prejudices in favor of rank and title quickly disappeared, perfect equality Avas aimed at, and even such titles as those of Esquire and Mi*, were applied to but few persons, Good- man and Goodwife being the ordinary appellations. Aris- tocratic connections in time became a bar to public favor. It was not until after the restoration of Charles II. to the throne of England that any disposition to interfere with the republican government that had quietly grown up in New England was manifested. The only restrictions which England had placed upon the freedom of these col- onies were of a commercial character. These had been 7'emoved dui-ing the era of the Commonwealth, but were renewed after the Eestoration. Only English vessels were permitted to trade with the colonies. All articles of Amer- ican produce for which there was a demand in England were forbidden to be shipped to foreign markets. The colonies were even restricted from the privilege of free trade with one another; and finally they were forbidden to manufacture, for use at home or abroad, any article that Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 387 would compete with English manufactures. These re- strictions gave rise to much complaint on the part of the colonists, and were evaded at every opportunity. Other sources of difficulty arose from the severe treatment of Quakers and others by the New England churchmen. To settle all such complaints, royal commissioners were sent to Boston in 1664, empowered to act upon all causes of colonial disturbance. The coming of these commissioners was not viewed with favor by the colonists. They were natui-ally alarmed at a measure Avhich might result in a restriction of their liber- ties, and were disposed to oppose the king's agents at every step. The commissioners were resisted, secretly or openly, in all the colonies except Ehode Island, which alone re- ceived them with deference. Massachusetts boldl}^ asserted her rights under the charter, and denied the authority of the commissioners, while professing the sincerest loyalty to the king. Eventually their mission proved a failure, ihe colonists in great part ignoring their measures. They were recalled, and the colonial governments went on as before. Many years passed away before any other active measure was. taken by the king against the colonists. In 1677 Maine became part of the province of Massachusetts, through a decision against the claim of the proprietors. In 1680 New Hampshire was separated from Massachu- setts, and was made a royal province, — the first instance of this kind in New England. In 1681 new sources of trouble arose. The vigorous resistance which Massachu- setts had long made to the restrictions imposed on the freedom of commerce culminated in the defeat of a custom- house officer who was sent over for the collection of dues. By a policy of passive resistance, delay, and obstruction, all his efforts were negatived, and he was finally obliged to return empty-handed to England. 388 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris The time had now arrived for the first open conflict between the throne and the colonies. The king had long entertained the project of taking the government of the colonies into his own hands, and seized this opportunity for effecting his purpose. English judges declared that Massachusetts had forfeited her charter, through disobe dience to the laws of England. Before any further steps could be taken, the king died ; but his successor, James II., proceeded vigorously to carry out his plans. In 1686 the charter government of Massachusetts was succeeded by a royal government, under Joseph Dudle}', appointed by the king. In December of the same year Sir Edmund Andros arrived at Boston with a royal commission as governor of all the New England colonies. The acts of Andros we have already considered, in a former article, with his prompt expulsion from the country on the tidings of the revolution in England. The people at once renewed their former mode of government, with no immediate objection from the new monarch. Earnest efforts were made by Massachusetts to obtain a restoration of her charter, but without success, the king and his councillors secretly deem- ing this too liberal. In 1692 a new charter .was granted, which vested the appointment of governor in the king. Beyond this there was little interference with colonial lib- erty, but the representatives of the people for man}- years kept up a violent controversy with the royal governors. The latter demanded a fixed and permanent salary. With this demand the Assembly refused to comply, claiming the right to var}^ the salary each year at their pleasure, and so manipulating this right that the amount of the govern- ox-'s salary was made to depend upon the character of his administration. The people had learned their lesson well, and held firmly in hand this useful method of enforcing a government in accordance with their ideas of justice and Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 389 utilitjT'. The controversy finally ended in a compromise, in which the claim of the Assembly was admitted, while it was agreed that a fixed sum should be voted annually. We have given special attention to the political history of New England, from its great importance Jis the birth- place of American democracy. The other colonies, though founded on more aristocratic principles, were strongly affected by its example, and strove vigorously to gain similarh' liberal institutions. The earliest of these, that of Virginia, was, by its fii'st charter, under the supreme government of a council residing in England and appointed b}^ the king, who likewise appointed a council of members of the colony, for its local administration. Thus all ex- ecutive and legislative powers were directly controlled by the king, and no rights of self-government were granted the people. Virginia formed the only British colony in America of which the monarch thus retained the control. The colonial councils consisted of seven persons, who were to elect a president from their own number. John Smith was made president in 1608, the year after their arrival. In 1609 a new charter was given to the London Company, by which the English councillors were to have the privi lege of filling vacancies by their own votes, and were empowered to appoint a governor for Virginia, whose powers were very despotic. The lives, libert}?-, and prop- erty of the colonists were placed almost at his sole dis- posal. The governor appointed, Lord Delaware, and his successor. Sir Thomas Dale, fortunately proved men of moderate and wise views. In 1612 still another charter was granted. This abolished the superior council, and transferred its powers to the company as a whole. But it failed to give any political rights to the colonists. Under the administration of George Yeardley, appointed gov- ernor in 1619, the first step towards popular rights was I. 33* 390 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris taken. Martial law, which had before prevailed, was abolished, and a colonial Assembly was convened, con sisting of two burgesses or representatives from each of the eleven boroughs into which the colony was divided. But the measures passed by the Assembly were to be of no force until ratified by the company in England. In 1G21 a written constitution was granted to the colony by the company, which ratified the ai'rangement made b}^ Yeardley and added to it the highly-important provision that no orders of the company in England should have binding force upon the colony until ratified by the As- sembly. Trial by jury was also established, and courts on the English model were organized. The privileges granted by this constitution were ever afterwards claimed as rights, and constituted a valuable preliminary towards complete civil liberty in Virginia. Soon afterwards the king, not relishing the freedom of debate manifested in the colonial Assembly, and the contests between the liber- alists and the loyalists, with the growing prevalence of liberal sentiments, sought to overawe the Assemblies and thus control the elections of officers. As this proved in- efficacious, a judicial decision against the corporation was obtained, and the company dissolved, the king taking direct control of the colony and erecting it into a royal government. Yet no effort was made to wrest fi*om the colonists the right to a representative government, which the company had granted them. This privilege they ever afterwards retained, and the fact of its possession under royal auspices formed a valuable lesson for the future proprietaries, who could not hope to obtain colonists for their lands under a constitution more stringent than that of Yirginia, though the}" could not be expected to con- cede the full measure of freedom enjoyed in New England. The government was now administered by a governor Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 391 and ten councillors, acting under the instructions of the king, but the colonial Assembly continued its annual ses sions. In fact, Virginia, through its whole history, was the most loyal of the colonies. It was the one colony which had been settled largely by royalists and members of the Established Church, and the Virginians continued warmly loyal to the throne and the Church while Puritan- ism and republicanism were rapidly gaining the control in England. The intolerance in religious matters which New England displayed in favor of Puritanism was here mani- fested in favor of the Church of England, and the legis- lature ordered that no minister should preach except in conformity to the doctrines of that Church. After the formation of the Commonwealth in England the Virginian royalists recognized Charles II. as their sovereign, and it required the presence of a Parliamentary naval force in their harbors to bring them into a recognition of the Commonwealth. The news of the restoration of Charles II. was gladly received in the colony, and the friends of royalty quickly gained controlling power in the Assembly. Yet the people soon had reason to regret the change of government. The policy of commercial restriction was made more stringent than ever, and Virginia suffered from it more severely than any of the other colonies. It was decided that all the export and import trade of the colonies should employ none but English vessels, and that tobacco, the principal product of Virginia, should be sent only to England. The trade between the colonies was likewise taxed for the benefit of England. Remon- strances against these oppressive laws proved of no avail, while discontent was also caused by large grants of Vir- ginia territory to royal favorites. Meanwhile, the aristo- cratic party in the legislature had seriously abridged the liberties of the people. Religious intolerance increased, 392 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris Quakers and Baptists were heavily fined, the taxes became oppressive, and the Assembly, instead of dissolving at the end of its term, continued in session, thus virtually abolish- ing the representative system of government. These were some of the evils which gave rise to the so-called " rebel- lion" of Nathaniel Bacon, and which caused so many of the planters to sustain him. His effort, however, proved of no efficacy in restoring the liberties of the people, and the oppressive system of government long continued. Of the proprietary colonies of America the oldest was that of Mar^'land, which was founded under a grant of land made to Lord Baltimore in 1632. Its charter was of marked liberality, the emigrants having the right to worship God as they wished, w^hile politically they were equals. The laws of the province were to be subject to the approbation of a majority of the freemen or their deputies. At first the members of the colony convened in General Assembly for legislative purposes, the first As- sembly being held in 1635. But in 1639 a representative government was adopted, the people sending delegates to the Assembl}'. The governor of the province was ap- pointed by the proprietor. In a preceding article we have considered the succession of political events in Maryland, and it will suffice to say here that, after a long subversion of the proprietary government, the Calyerts again gained control, and that Maryland continued under their rule until the Eevolution. The Carolinas were gi'anted to a body of eight propri- etors in 1653, under a charter which gave the people re- ligious freedom and a voice in legislation, but reserved nearl}' the whole power to the proprietary corporation. Somewhat later Locke's despotic scheme of government (explained in a preceding article) was adopted. Yet the eff'ort to establish it proved abortive. The people saw the Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 393 colonies to the north of them governing themselves, and refused to submit to a government in which they had no voice. They established a republican government of their own, elected delegates to a popular Assembly, drove out tyrannical governors and replaced them by men of their own choice, and in all displa^'ed an aptness for and a ten dency to self-government equal to those of any other of the colonies. For a short period the Church of England was made supreme in South Carolina by the proprietors, and all dissenters were excluded from the legislature. Com- plaint was made to the English Parliament, and soon after the disfranchising laws were repealed by the colonial As- sembly ; but the Church of England remained the estab- lished form of religion till the Revolution. In New York, under the Dutch, the example of self- government displaj'ed in New England caused much dis- satisfaction with the arbitrary rule which prevailed, and gave rise to popular demands for greater privileges and a share in the government. The people were very read}', on the occasion of the English invasion, to submit to their new rulers, in the hope of gaining increased liberty. Yet they found themselves under as severe a despotism as be- fore, and made the same protest that had been heard in the other colonies, that taxation without representation was unjust and oppressive. Thej^ obtained answer from their governor that the taxes should be made so heavy that they would have time to think of nothing else but how to pay them. This oppression continued till 1683, when, under the advice of William Penn, the Duke of York ordered the governor to call an Assembly 'X)f repre- sentatives. This Assembly passed an important " charter of liberties," which was approved by the governor. This charter placed the supreme legislative power in the gov- ernor, council, and j)eople met in general assembly, gave 394 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris to every freeman full right to vote for representatives, established trial by jurj-, required that no tax whatever should be assessed without the consent of the Assembly, and that no professing Christian should be questioned con- cerning his religion. The privileges here claimed were not fully conceded. Several of the governors proved op- pressive and ruled the colony despotically. But the right of self-government, so far as it had been attained, was never again yielded. The dispute, of which we have pi'e- viously spoken, in 1732, between the liberal and the aristo- cratic parties, which was decided in favor of the former, showed clearly the prevailing liberal sentiments of the people. The editor who had been thrown into prison for a libel against the government was acquitted, and Andrew Hamilton, one of his counsel, was highly applauded for bis eloquent defence of the rights of mankind and of free speech by the press. The charter granted by Charles II. to William Penn for the govei'nment of Penns34vania was very liberal in its provisions, but not sufficiently so to meet the enlarged views of the proprietoi', who at the outstart promised his colonists that they should be a free people and be governed by laws of their own making. In 1682 he published his " frame of government," which was to be submitted to the people of the province for approval. In 1683 this was amended, in the second Assembly of the province, and a charter of liberties granted which made Pennsylvania almost fully a representative democracy. The right of appointment of judicial and executive officers, which was reserved "by the proprietors of the other colonies, was sur- I'endered by William Penn to the people, and the govern- ment consisted of the proprietor and the Assembly, with no intermediate council, as in Marj-land and elsewhere. Yet, liberal as this constitution was, the people soon de- Morris] POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA. 395 manded further concessions and privileges, and Penn, in his last visit to his province, granted a new charter, still more liberal, and conferring greater powers upon the people, who from this time forward possessed a very full measure of political liberty. The bi'ief review we have here given of the develop- ment of political institutions in the English colonies in America will serve to show that they had attained a fair measure of political liberty at the period which we have now reached (the close of the French and Indian War), and had little or no occasion for discontent concern- ing their governmental rights and privileges. Unlike the French and Spanish colonists, who had no experience of parliamentary government and readily submitted to the rule of despotic governors, the British colonists were thoroughly indoctrinated in legislative principles, and came from a country in which at the period of some of the emigrations the people were rising in defence of their natural rights, and at the period of others had subverted the monarchy and founded a democracy on its ruins. Very naturall}^, therefore, the American colonists insisted upon a considerable degree of self-government in their new home, and extended this civil liberty even beyond the measure of that of the English Commonwealth, taking advantage of the many opportunities affoi'ded them by the dissensions existing in the mother-country. As a con- sequence of this persistent struggle for the privilege of self-government, New England became almost a full repub- lic, Pennsylvania was little behind it in the legislative free- dom of its people, and the other colonies gained the right of making their own laws, with more or less interference from the royal governors. So far, therefore, as legislative power and religious free- dom were concerned, the colonists had little to complain 396 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Morris of. and had there been no deeper cause of discontent the American Eevolution would never have taken place. And through this long experience of self-government by the people of the colonies was acquired an extended knowl- edge of the principles of government, and a vigorous dem- ocratic sentiment, which rendered the form of government adopted by independent America an inevitable necessity of the situation, while the political ability displayed by its founders was the resultant of a long experience in self-rule, and no original outburst of legislative genius, as is so generally supposed. The causes of the discontent which we have now to consider were industrial and executive, not legislative, and consisted of those stringent commercial and maiiufac- turino- reirulatioris, and the ckxim of the crown to unre- stricted powers of taxation, which had for a long period been resisted by the colonies. In their earlier and weaker daj^s these evils were of secondary importance, but with every step of growth in population, and of development of the resources of America, the right to trade with \vhom they pleased and to manufacture what they pleased be- came of greater importance to the colonists, until finally the restrictions in these respects grew insupportable. In regard to the question of taxation, the people of Massa chusetts at an early date strongly disputed the right of taxation without representation. As time went on, this sentiment spread to the other colonies, and had become vigorously im))lanted in the minds of all Americans by the era immediately preceding the Eevolution. That principle which had been long fought for and eventually gained in the home country, that the people, through their represent- atives, alone had the power to lay taxes, was naturally claimed in America as an essential requisite of a repre- sentative government ; and it was mainly to the effort of 1 HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 397 the English authorities to deprive the colonists of this right that the American Eevolution was due. ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. MARY IIOWITT. [From the gracefully-written work of an English author we select a description of the condition of the colonies, and their relations to the mother-country, in the period immediately succeeding the French and Indian War, extending the review to the date of the passage of the Stamp Act. The most important event of the period, outside of the political difficulties, was that known as Pontiac's Conspiracy, an Indian war of extended proportions and, for a time, of phenome- nal success. Pontiac, a Shawnee chief, in the year 1763, organized a scheme of attack upon the frontier forts and settlements, the details of which were arranged with the utmost craft and secrecy. The Cherokees, and the Six Nations with the exception of the Senecas, kept out of the conspiracj^, but the tribes of the Ohio, and most of those on the eastern side of the Mississippi, and in the vicinity of Detroit, were included, the leading tribes being the Shawnees and Dela wares. At the appointed time the warriors fell furiously upon the fron- tiers of Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania. Great numbers of the settlers were massacred, though many took the alarm in time to escape. For twenty miles inland the settlements were ruined. The traders among the Indians were murdered and their effects seized by the savages. But the most important result of the outbreak, from a military point of view, was the capture of several of the frontier forts. A number of the smaller forts — Le Bceuf, Venango, Presque Isle, Michilimackinac, and others — were taken by the savages, and the garrisons generally massacred. The large and important forts of De- troit, Niagara, and Pittsburg were fiercely assailed. Amherst quickly sent detachments to relieve these forts. That sent to Detroit, after reinforcing the garrison, fell into an ambuscade of the enemy, and met I. 34 398 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt with heavy loss. The renminder took refuge in the fort, from which the besiegers soon after retired. The fort of Pittsburg was assailed with unusual skill and obstinacy for Indian combatants. The post was ill prepared for a siege, and wa.s maintained with difficulty against the furious assault. An expedition under Colonel Bouquet, sent to its relief, was ambuscaded on the march, and furiously assailed. The assault was one of the most per- sistent and skilfully conducted ever made by Indians, and only the steady discipline of the English and the skill of their leader saved them from destruction. For seven hours the battle continued, and it was renewed the next day with undiminished fury. The English were worn out by the repeated assaults of the ferocious enemy, who displayed a combined caution and intrepidity which were gradually wasting awaj- the troops. Advance and retreat became alike impos- sible, and complete destruction seemed inevitable. At this crisis Colonel Bouquet essayed a manoeuvre which fortunately proved suc- cessful. Part of the troops retired as if in flight, while the others seemed endeavoring to cover the flight. On perceiving this, the sav- ages abandoned their cautious tactics, and, emerging from their covers, rushed in rage and triumph on the seemingly flying army. This was what Bouquet had desired, and, the English turning on them with the skill and vigor of disciplined troops, they were muted with immense slaughter. Several of their ablest chiefs fell, and, despairing of success, they fled in terror. Four days afterwards. Bouquet reached the fort, from which the besiegers at once withdrew. An assault was now made on the fort at Niagara. The same tactics were applied here. A convoy of provisions was assailed and captured ; and a lake-fight took place between canoes and a provision-schooner, in which the savages were repulsed. Finally the fort was relieved ; but the Indians continued a predatory warfare until the following spring and summer, when they were assailed with such spirit and suc- cess that they were forced to sue for peace. The articles of the treaty were very stringent, and greatly increased the strength of the English hold on the Western country. One unfortunate result of this war was the inflaming of the passions of the settlers to deeds of unprovoked murder. A society of peaceful Indians, converted to Christianity by the Moravian missionaries, re- siding in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, were attacked and indis- criminately butchered by a party of settlers from the neighboring township of Paxton. These " Paxton Boj-s" even broke open the jail Howitt] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 399 at Lancaster, and murdered the Indians who had been phiced there as a measure of safety. The proclamations of the governor against these outrages were disdained, and the sanguinary mob marched upon Phila- delphia, with the purpose of slaughtering the Indians who had been taken thither. There was much sympathy with the murderers in the city; but a body of the more respectable inhabitants, including many young Quakers, armed in defence of the refugees. The Paxton Boys advanced to Gerniantown, the governor fled in dismay, and the prov- ince seemed on the brink of civil war. Franklin and some others, however, expostulated with the insurgents, and finally prevailed on them to give up their purpose and return home. The accompanying account of political events we extract from Marj Howitt's " History of the United States."] The war between England and France, though at an end on the continent of America, was still continued among the West India islands, France in this case also being the loser. Martinique, Grenada, St. Lucia, St. Yin- cent's, — every island, in fact, which France possessed among the Caribbees. — passed into the hands of the Eng- lish. Besides Avhich. being at the same time at war with Spain, England toolv possession of Havana, the key to the whole trade of the Gulf of Mexico. In November, 1763, a treaty of peace was signed at Paris, which led to farther changes, all being favorable to Britain; whilst Martinique, Guadeloupe, and St. Lucia were restored to France, England took possession of St. Vincent's, Dominica, and Tobago islands, which had hitherto been considered neutral. By the same treaty all the vast territory east of the Mississij^pi, from its source to the Gulf of Mexico, with the exception of the island of New Orleans, was yielded up to the British ; and Spain, in return for Havana, ceded her possession of Florida. Thus, says Hildreth, was vested in the British crown, as far as the consent of rival European claimants could give it. the sovereis-ntv of the whole eastern half of North •400 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt America, from the Gulf of Mexico to Hudson's Bay and the Polar Ocean. By the same treaty the navigation of the Mississippi was free to both nations. France at the dame time gave to Spain, as a compensation for her losses in the war, all Louisiana west of the Mississippi, which contained at that time about ten thousand inhabitants, to whom this transfer was very unsatisfactory. . . . The conquest of Canada and the subjection of the East- ern Indians giving security to the colonists of Maine, that province began to expand and flourish. The counties of Cumberland and Lincoln were added to the former single county of York, and settlers began to occujiy the lower Kennebec and to extend themselves along the coast towards the Penobscot. Nor was this northern expansion confined alone to Maine; settlers began to occupy both sides of the upper Connecticut, and to -advance into new regions beyond the Green Mountains towards Lake Cham- plain, a beautiful and fertile country which had first be- come known to the colonists in the late war. Homes were growing up in Yerraont. In the same manner population extended westward beyond the Alleghanies as soon as the Indian disturbances were allayed in that direction. The go-ahead principle was ever active in British America. The population of Georgia was beginning to increase greatl}^, and in 1763 the first newspaper of that colony was published, called the "Georgia Gazette." A vital principle was operating also in the new province of East Florida, now that she ranked among the British posses- sions. In ten years more was done for the colony than had been done through the whole period of the Spanish occupation. A colony of Greeks settled about this time on the inlet still known as New Smyrna ; and a body of settlers from the banks of the Roanoke planted themselves in West Florida, near Baton Roug-e. HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 401 Nor was this increase confined to the newer provinces : the older ones progressed in the same degree. Hildreth calls this the golden age of Virginia, Marj'land, and South Carolina, which were increasing in population and produc- tions at a rate unknown before or since. In the North, leisure was found for the cultivation of literature, ai't, and social refinement. The six colonial colleges were crowded with students ; a medical college was established in Penn- sylvania, the first in the colonies ; and "West and Cople}', both born in the same year, — the one in New York, the other in Boston. — proved that genius Avas native to the New World, though the Old afforded richer patronage. Besides all this, the late wars and the growing diflSculties with the mother-country had called forth and trained able commanders for the field, and sagacious intellects for the control of the great events which were at hand. A vast amount of debt, as is always the case with wai", was the result of the late contests in America. With peace, the costs of the struggle began to be reckoned. The colonies had lost, by disease or the sword, above thirty thousand men ; and their debt amounted to about four million pounds, Massachusetts alone having been reim- bursed by Parliament. The popular power had, however, grown in various ways ; the colonial Assemblies had re- sisted the claims of the ro\*al and proprietary governors to the management and irresponsible expenditure of the large sums which were raised for the war, and thus the executive influence became transferred in considerable degree from the governors to the colonial Assemblies. Another and still more dangerous result was the martial spirit which had sprung up, and the discovery of the powerful means which the colonists held in their hands for settling any disputed points of authority and right with the mother-country. The colonies had of late been a 402 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt military college to her cilizens, in which, though they had performed the hardest service and had been extremely offended and annoyed by the superiority assumed by the British officers and their own subordination, yet they had been well trained, and had learned their own power and resources. The conquest of New France, in great measure, cost England her colonies. England at the close of the war— at the close, in fact, of four wars within seventy years — found herself burdened with a debt of one hundred and forty million pounds; and as it was necessary now to keep a standing army in her colonies, to defend and maintain her late conquests, the scheme of colonial taxation to provide a regular and certain revenue began again to be agitated. Already England feared the growing power and independence of her colo- nies, and even at one moment hesitated as to whether it were not wiser to restore Canada to France, in order that the proximity of a powerful rival might keep them in check and secure their dependence on the mother-country. As far as the colonists themselves were concerned, we are assured by their earlier historians that the majority had no idea of or wish to separate themselves from England, and that the utmost which they contemplated by the conquest of Canada was the freedom from French and Indian wars, and that state of tranquil prosperity which would leave them at liberty to cultivate and avail them- selves of the productions and resources of an affluent land. The true causes which slowly alienated the colonies from the pai-ent state may be traced back to the early encroach- ments on their civil rights and the restrictive enactments against their commerce. The Americans were a bold and independent people from the beginning. They came to the shores of the New World, the greater and better part of them, republicans HowiTT] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 403 in feeling and pi'inciple. " They were men who scoffed at the rights of kings, and looked upon rulers as public ser- vants bound to exercise their authority for the benefit of the government, and ever maintained that it is the inalien- able right of the subject freely to give his money to the crown or to withhold it at his discretion." Such were the Americans in principle, yet were they bound to the mother- country by old ties of affection, and by no means wished to rush into rebellion. It was precisely the case of the son grown to years of discretion, whom an unreasonable parent seeks still to coerce, until the hitherto dutiful though clear-headed and resolute son violently breaks the bonds of parental authority and asserts the independence of his manhood. The human being would have been less worthy in submission ; the colonies would have belied the strong race which planted them, had they done otherwise. England believed that she had a right to dictate and change the government of the colonies at her pleasure, and to regulate and restrict their commerce ; and for some time this was, if not patiently submitted to, at least allowed. The navigation acts declared that, for the benefit of Brit- ish shipping, no mei'chandise from the English colonies should be imported into England excepting by English vessels ; and, for the benefit of English manufacturers, pro- hibited exportation from the colonies, nor allowed articles of domestic manufacture to be carried from one colony to another; she forbade hats, at one time, to be made in the colony where beaver abounded ; at another, that any hat- ter should have above two apprentices at one time ; she subjected rum, sugar, and molasses to exorbitant duties on importation ; she forbade the erection of iron-works and the preparation of steel, or the felling of jDitch and white- pine trees unless in enclosed lands. To some of these laws, though felt to be an encroachment on their rights, 404 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Howitt the colonies submitted patiently ; others, as, for instance, the duties on sugar and molasses, they evaded and opposed in every possible way, and the British authorities, from the year 1733, when these duties were first imposed, to 1761, made but little resistance to this opposition. At this latter date, however, George III. having then ascended the throne, and being, as Charles Townshend described him, " a very obstinate young man," it was determined to enforce this law, and " writs of assistance," in other words, search-warrants, were issued, by means of which the royal custom-house officers were authorized to search for goods which had been imported without the payment of duty. The people of Boston opposed and resented these meas- ures ; and their two most eminent lawyers, Oxenbridge Thacher and James Otis, expressed the public sentiment in the strongest language. Spite of search-warrants and official vigilance, the payment of these duties was still evaded, and smuggling increased to a great extent, while the colonial trade with the West Indies was nearly de- stroyed. In 1764 the sugar-duties were somewhat reduced, as a boon to the colonies, but new duties were imposed on arti- cles which had hitherto been imported free ; at the same time. Lord Grenville proposed a new impost in the form of a stamp-tax. All pamphlets, almanacs, newspapers, all bonds, notes, leases, policies of insurance, together with all papers used for legal purposes, in order to be valid were to be drawn on stamped paper, to be purchased only from the kiui^'s officers appointed for that purpose. This plan met with the entire approbation of the British Parliament, but its enactment was deferred until the following year, in order that the colonies might have an opportunity of ex- pressing their feelings on the subject. Though deference was thus apparently paid to their wishes, the intention Howitt] ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES. 405 of the British government was no longer concealed. The preamble of the bill openly avowed the intention of rais- ing revenue from "his majesty's dominions in America;" the same act gave increased power to the admiralty courts, and provided more stringent means for enforcing the pay- ment of duties and punishing their evasion. The colonies received the news of these proposed meas- ures with strong indignation. Massachusetts instructed her agent in London to deny the right of Parliament to impose duties and taxes on a people who were not repre- •^ented in the House of Commons. " If we are not repre- sented," said they, " we are slaves." A combination of all the colonies for the defence of their common interests was suggested. Otis, who had published a pamphlet on Colonial Eights, seeing the tide of public indignation rising very high, inculcated " obedience" and '• the duty of submission;" but this was not a doctrine which the Americans were then in a state of mind to listen to. Better suited to their feeling wus Thacher's pamphlet against all Parliamentary taxa- tion. Ebode Island expressed the same; so did Maryland, by the secretary of the province ; so did Virginia, by a leading member of her House of Burgesses. Strong as the expression of resentment was in the colonies, addresses in a much milder strain were prepared to the king and Parliament from most of them, New York alone express- ing boldly and decidedly the true nature of her feelings, the same tone being maintained b}' Ehode Island. But the minds of the British monarch and his ministers were not to be influenced either by the remonstrances and pleadings of the colonies or their agents in London, or of their few friends in Parliament. Grrenville, the minister, according to prearrangement, brought in his bill for col- lecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House 406 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth of Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there was neither division on the subject nor the slightest oppo- sition. This act was to come into operation on the 1st day of November of the same year. It was on the occa- sion of its discussion in the House of Commons that Colonel Barre, who had fought with Wolfe at Louisburg and Quebec, electrified the House with his burst of elo- quence in reply to one of the ministers who spoke of the colonists as " childi-en planted by our care, nourished bj our indulgence, and protected by our arms." " They planted by your care !" retorted Barre. " No ; your op- pression planted them iu America. They nourished by your indulgence ! They grew up by your neglect of them. They protected by your arms ! Those sons of liberty have nobly taken up arms in your defence. I claim to know more of America than most of j'ou, having been conversant in that country. The people, I believe, are as truly loyal subjects as the king has, but a people jealous of their liberties, and who will vindicate them should they ever be violated." The day after the Stamp Act had passed the House, Benjamin Franklin, then in London as agent for Phila- delphia, wrote the news to his friend Charles Thomson. " The sun of liberty," said he, " is set ; you must light up the candles of industry and economy." " We shall light up torches of quite another kind," was the reply. HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED IN AMERICA. RICHARD HILDRETH. [Although the British Parliament had passed, and refused to repeal, highly oppressive acts regarding commerce and manufactures, it had never hitherto attempted to levy direct taxes. The nearest approach HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 407 to this was in the rates for postage ; but in these the pay was volun- tary and for services rendered, and it provoked no opposition. The proposition, therefore, to hiy a direct tax on the colonies was re- ceived by them all with disapproval, though the degrees of outspoken dissent widely differed. In Boston, which had always been the centre of democratic sentiment in America, the protest was made in no un- certain tone. The House of Representatives resolved, " That the im- position of duties and taxes by the Parliament of Great Britain, upon a people not represented in the House of Commons, is absolutely ir- reconcilable with their rights." The pamphlet issued by James Otis, mentioned in the preceding article, vigorously asserted this principle, and declared, " If we are not represented, we are slaves." He main- tained, as one of the " natural rights of man," that taxes could not be levied upon the people " but by their consent in person or by deputa- tion." The energetic protests published greatly intensified the feeling of resistance to the Parliamentary scheme. The passage of the Stamp Act, therefore, was regarded throughout America as a high-handed violation of the liberties of the people. At the same time a clause had been inserted into the Mutiny Act, authorizing as many troops to be sent to America as the ministers saw fit. The colonies in which these might be stationed were required to furnish them with quarters, fire-wood, bedding, drink, soap, and candles. The story of the events which followed the passage of these dictatorial acts we select from Richard Hildreth's " History of the United States of America," a work which, while lacking vivacity of manner, is justly valued for its merit as a trustworthy history.] News of the passage of these acts reached Yirginia while the Assembly was sitting. The ai'istocratic leaders in that body hesitated. Tlie session approached its close, and not one word seemed likely to be said. But the rights of the colonies did not fail of an advocate. Patrick Henry had already attracted the attention of the House by his successful opposition to Eobinson's proposed paper money loan. Finding the older and more weighty members un- likely to move, he assumed the responsibility of intro- ducing a series of resolutions which claimed for the inhab- itants of Yirginia all the rights of born British subjects; 408 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth denied any authority an}- where, except in the provincial Assembly, to impose taxes upon them; and denounced the attempt to vest that authority elsewhere, as inconsistent with the ancient Constitution, and subversive of British as well as of American liberty. Upon the introduction of these resolutions a hot debate ensued. " Caesar had his Brutus," said Henry, " Charles I. his Cromwell, and George III. " " Treason ! treason !" shouted the Speaker, and the cry was re-echoed from the House. " George III.," said Henry, firmly, " may profit by their example. If that be treason, make the most of it !" In spite of the ojDposi- tion of all the old leaders, the resolutions passed, the fifth and most emphatic by a majority of only one vote. The next da}', in Henry's absence, the resolutions were recon- sidered, softened, and the fifth struck out. But a manu- script copy had already been sent to Philadelphia ; and, circulating through the colonies in their original form, these resolutions gave everywhere a strong impulse to the jjopular feeling. [In Massachusetts a committee recommended that a convention or congress, composed of deputies from the several colonies, should meet at New York in the following October, to consider what action the colonies should take in regard to the recent acts.] Before the stamps reached America, symptoms of a violent ferment appeared. A great elm in Boston, at the corner of the present Washington and Essex Streets, under which the opponents of the Stamp Act were accustomed to assemble, soon became famous as " liberty tree." Those persons supposed to favor the ministry were hung in effigy on the branches of this elm. A mob attacked the house of Oliver, secretary of the colony, who had been appointed stamp-distributor for Massachusetts, broke his windows, destroyed his furniture, pulled down a small building sup- posed to be intended for a stamp office, and frightened HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 409 Oliver into a resignation. Jonathan Mayhew, the able minister of the West Church in Boston, . . . preached a warm sermon against the Stamp Act, taking for his text, "I would they were even cut off which trouble you!" The Monday evening after this sermon the riots were re- newed. The mob attacked the house of Story, registrar of the Admiralt}", and destroyed not only the public files and records, but his private papers also. Next they en- tered and plundered the house of the controller of the customs ; and, maddened with liquor and excitement, pro- ceeded to the mansion of Hutchinson, in North Square. The lieutenant-governor and his family fled for their lives. The house was completelj' gutted, and the contents burned in bonfires kindled in the square. Along with Hutchin- son's furniture and private papers perished many invalu- able manuscripts relating to the history of the province, which Hutchinson had been thirty years in collecting, and which it was impossiljle to replace. [These acts were disclaimed by the more respectable citizens. Yet the rioters, though well known, went unpunished, and had undoubtedly the secret sympathy of the community.] Throughout the Northern colonies, associations on the basis of forcible resistance to the Stamp Act, under the name of " Sons of Liberty," sprang suddenly into existence. Persons of influence and consideration, though they might favor the object, kept aloof, however, fi"om so dangerous a combination, which consisted of the young, the ardent, those who loved excitement and had nothing to lose. The history of these "Sons of Liberty" is very obscure; but they seem to have spread rapidly from Connecticut and New York into Massachusetts, Pennsjdvania, and New Jersey, and to have taken up as their special business the intimidation of the stamp officers. In all the colonies these I.— s 35 410 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth officers were persuaded or compelled to resign ; and such stamps as arrived either remained unpacked, or else were seized and burned. The Assembly of Pennsylvania unan- imously adopted a series of resolutions denouncing the Stamp Act as - unconstitutional, and subversive of theii dearest rights." Public meetings to protest against it were held throughout the colonies. The holding of such meet- ings was quite a new incident, and formed a new era in colonial history. [On the day appointed by Massachusetts for the meeting of the First Colonial Congress, committees from nine colonies met in ^e\v York. Various reasons prevented the others from joining.] In the course of a three weeks' session, a Declaration of the Eights and Grievances of the Colonies was agreed to. All the privileges of Englishmen were claimed by this declaration as the birthright of the colonists, — among the rest, the right of being taxed only by their own consent. Since distance and local circumstances made a represen tation in the British Parliament impossible, these repre sentatives, it was maintained, could be no other than the several colonial Legislatures. Thus was given a flat neg- ative to a scheme lately broached in England by Pownall and others for allowing to the colonies a representation in Parliament, a project to which both Otis and Franklin seem at first to have leaned. A petition to the king and memorials to each House ot Parliament were also prepared, in which the cause of the colonies was eloquently pleaded. . . . The several colonial Assemblies, at their earliest sessions, gave to the proceed- ings a cordial approval. . . . The first day of November, appointed for the Stamp Act to go into operation, came and went, but not a stamp was anywhere to be seen. Two companies of rioters HiLDRETH] HOW THE STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 411 paraded that evening the streets of New York, demanding the delivery of the stamps, which Golden, on the resigna- tion of the stamp-distributor and his refusal to receive them, had taken into the fort. Golden was hung in e&gy. His carriage was seized, and made a bonfire of under the muzzles of the guns; after which the mob proceeded to a house in the outskirts, then occupied by Major James, of the Eoyal Artillery, who had made himself obnoxious by his free comments on the conduct of the colonists. James's furniture and property were destroyed, as Hutchinson's had been. General Gage, the commander-in-chief of the British forces in America, was at New York, but the regular garrison in the fort was very small. Alarmed for the safety of the city, and not willing to take any respon- sibility, as Sir Henry Moore, the recently-appointed gov- ernor, was every day expected, Golden agreed, by Gage's advice, the captain of a British ship of war in the harbor having refused to receive them, to give up the stamps to the mayor and corporation. They were accordingly deposited in the Gity Hall, under a receipt given by the mayor. [A committee was next day appointed which] soon brought forward an agreement to import no more goods from Great Britain till the Stamp Act was repealed, — the commencement of a system of retaliation on the mother- country repeatedly resorted to in the course of the strug- gle. This non-importation agreement, to which a non- consumption agreement was presently added, besides being extensively signed in New York, was adopted also in Philadelphia and Boston. At the same time, and as part of the same plan, a combination was entered into for the support of American manufactures, the wearing of Amer- ican cloths, and the increase of sheep by ceasing to eat lamb or mutton. 412 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hildreth Business, suspended for a while, was presently resumed. Stamped papers were required in judicial proceedings, but by continuing the eases before them, or going on without notice of the deficiency", even the judges, after some hesita- tion, concurred in nullifying the act. [A change in the English ministry, news of which now reached America, encouraged the colonists in their policy of resistance. Gren- ville, the promoter of the Stamp Act, had been succeeded by the Marquis of Kockingham.] In the address from the throne at the opening of the session, the new ministry brought the state of colonial atfairs before Parliament. They produced the correspond- ence of the colonial governors and other papers relating to the late disturbance. Numerous petitions from British merchants for the repeal of the Stamp Act were also presented to the two Houses. Pitt, for some time past withdrawn by sickness from public affairs, was unconnected, at this moment, with either Grenville's or Rockingham's party. He now ap- peared in his place in the House of Commons, and de- livered his opinion "that the kingdom had no right to levy a tax on the colonies." "The Commons in America, represented in their several Assemblies, have invariably exercised the constitutional right of giving and granting their own money ; they would have been slaves if they had not ; at the same time, this kingdom has ever pos- sessed the power of legislative and commercial control. The colonies acknowledge your authority in all things, with the sole exception that you shall not take their money out of their pockets without their consent." This decisive avowal by Pitt made a profound impres- sion on the House. After a long pause, Grenville rose to vindicate the Stamp Act. The tumults in America bor- Hildreth] how the STAMP ACT WAS RECEIVED. 413 dered, he averred, on open rebellion ; but if the doctrinea now pi-oraulgated were upheld, they would soon lose that name, and become a revolution. Taxation was a branch of the sovei-eign power, constantly exercised by Parlia- ment over the unrepresented. Eesorting, then, to a method of intimidation common with politicians, "the seditious spirit of the colonies," he said, "owes its birth to the faction in this House." This invidious assault was met by Pitt with characteristic intrepidity. " A charge is brought against gentlemen sitting in this House of giving birth to sedition in America. The freedom with which they have spoken their sentiments against this unhapp}'' act is imputed to them as a crime. But the imputation shall not discourage me." " We are told America is obsti- nate — America is almost in open rebellion. Sir, I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of Hberty as voluntai-ily to siibmit to be slaves, would liave been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest." " The Americans have been wronged ! They have been driven to madness by in- justice! Will you punish them for the madness you havi. occasioned ? No ! Let this country be the first to resume its prudence and temper; I will pledge myself for the colonies, that on their part animosity and resentment will cease." The new ministry were under no obligation to support the policy of their predecessors. Anxious to escape the difficulty by the readiest means, they brought in a bill for repealing the Stamp Act. Franklin, summoned to the bar of the House as a witness, testified that the act could never be enforced. His prompt and pointed answers gained him great credit for information, acuteness, and presence of mind. In favor of repeal, Burke, introduced into Parliament b}' Rockingham, to whom he had been I. 35* 414 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin private secretary, and for one of whose rotten boroughs he sat, gave his eloquent support. In spite of a very strenuous opposition on the part of the supporters of the late ministry, the bill of repeal was carried in the Com- mons by a vote of two hundred and seventy-five to one hundred and sixty-seven. But the ministers by no means went the length of Pitt. They placed the repeal on the ground of expediency merely, and they softened the opposition by another bill previously passed, which asserted the power and right of Parliament •' to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever." Lord Camden, formerly Chief-Justice Pratt, made a vig- orous opposition to this bill in the House of Lords'. " My position is this — I repeat it ; I will maintain it to the last hour — taxation and representation are inseparable. The position is founded in the law of nature. It is more ; it is itself an eternal law of nature." Lord Mansfield, on the other hand, maintained the sovereign power of Parliament as including the right to tax, — an idea quite too flattering to the pride of authority to be easily relinquished. A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. [As a very interesting feature of the literature relating to the pas- sage and repeal of the Stamp Act, we select from the works of Frank- lin some of the more striking features of his examination before the House of Commons, referred to in the preceding article. This selec- tion we credit to Franklin (though its actual source is the Journal of the House of Commons), since all in it beyond the brief questions is due to Franklin himself. As a whole it presents an important picture Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 415 of the condition and sentiments of the Americans, as reflected in the mind of their ablest advocate.] 1. Q. AVhat is your name, and place of abode? A. Franklin, of Ptiiladelphia. 2. Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes among themselves ? A. Certainl}^ many, and very heavy taxes. 3. Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, laid by the laws of the colony ? A. There are taxes on all estates real and personal ; a poll-tax ; a tax on all offices, professions, trades, and busi- nesses, "according to their profits; an excise on all wine, rum, and other spirits ; and a duty of ten pounds per head on all negroes imported, with some other duties. 4. Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid ? A. For the support of the civil and military establish- ments of the country, and to discharge the heavy debt contracted in the last war. . . . 7. Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those taxes ? A. No. The frontier counties, all along the continent, having been frequently ravaged by the enemy and greatly impoverished, are able to pay very little tax. And there- fore, in consideration of their distresses, our late tax laws do expressly favor those counties, excusing the sufferers; and I suppose the same is done in other governments. . . . 22. Q. How many white men do you suppose there are in North America ? A. About three hundred thousand, from sixteen to sixty yeai'S of age. 23. Q. What may be the amount of one year's imports into Pennsylvania from Britain? A. I have been informed that our merchants compute 416 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin the imi^orts from Britain to be above five hundred thou- sand pounds. 24. Q. What may be the amount of the produce of your province exported to Britain ? A. It must be small, as we produce little that is wanted in Britain. I suppose it cannot exceed forty thousand pounds. . . . 27. Q. Do you think it right that America should be protected by this country and pay no part of the expense ? A. That is not the case. The colonies raised, clothed, and paid, during the last war, near twenty-five thousand men, and spent many millions. 28. Q. Were you not reimbursed by Parliament? A. We were only reimbursed what, in your opinion, we had advanced beyond our proportion, or beyond what might reasonably be expected from us ; and it was a very small part of what we spent. Pennsylvania, in particular, disbursed about five hundred thousand pounds, and the reimbursements, in the whole, did not exceed sixty thou- sand pounds. 29. Q. You have said that you pay heavy taxes in Penn- sylvania ; what do they amount to in the pound ? A. The tax on all estates, real and personal, is eighteen pence in the pound, full}' rated ; and the tax on the profits of trades and professions, with other taxes, do, I suppose, make full half a crown in the pound. . . . 36. Q. What was the temper of America towards Great Britain before the year 17^3 ? A. The best in the world. They submitted willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, in their courts, obedience to the acts of Parliament. Numerous as the people are in the several old provinces, they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons, or armies, to keep them in subjection. They were governed by this country at the Franklin I A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 417 expense only of a little pen, ink, and paper ; they were led by a thread. They had not only a respect, but an affection for Great Britain; for its laws, its customs and manners, and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased the commerce. Natives of Britain were always treated with particular regard ; to be an Old-England man was of itself a chai'acter of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us. 37. Q. And what is their temper now? A. Oh, very much altered, . . . 40. Q. In what light did the people of America use to consider the Parliament of Great Britain ? A. They considered the Parliament as the great bul- wark and security of their liberties and privileges, and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and venera- tion. Arbitrary ministers, they thought, might possibly, at times, attempt to opj^ress them ; but they relied on it that the Parliament, on application, would always give redress. They remembered, with gratitude, a strong in stance of this, when a bill was brought into Parliament, with a clause to make royal instructions laws in the colo- nies, which the House of Commons would not pass, and it was thrown out. 41. Q. And have they not still the same respect for Parliament ? A. No ; it is greatly lessened. 42. Q. To what cause is that owing ? A. To a concurrence of causes : the restraints lately laid on their trade, by which the bringing of foreign gold and silver into the colonies was prevented ; the prohibition of making paper money among themselves, and then de- manding a new and heavy tax by stamps, taking away, at the same time, trials by juries, and refusing to receive and hear their humble petitions. i.—bb 418 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 43. Q. Don't you think they would submit to the Stamp Act, if it was modified, the obnoxious parts taken out, and the duty reduced to some particulars of small moment? A. No, they will never submit to it. . . . 59. Q. You say the colonies have always submitted to external taxes, and object to the right of Parliament only in laying internal taxes: now can you show that there is any kind of difference between the two taxes to the colony on which they may be laid ? A. I think the difference is very great. An external tax is a duty laid on commodities imported ; that duty is added to the fii-st cost and other charges on the com- modity, and, when it is offered to sale, makes a part of the price. If the people do not like it at that price, they refuse it ; they are not obliged to pay it. But an internal tax is forced from the people without their consent, if not laid by their own representatives. The Stamp Act says, we shall have no commerce, make no exchange of property with each other, neither purchase, nor grant, nor recover debts, we shall neither marry nor make our wills, unless we pay such and such sums; and thus it is intended to extort our mone}^ from us, or ruin us by the consequences of refusing to pay it. 60. Q. But supposing the extei'nal tax or dutj^ to be laid on the necessaries of life, imported into your colony, will not that be the same thing in its effects as an internal tax? A. I do not know a single article imported into the northern colonies, but what they can either do without, or make themselves. 61. Q. Don't you think cloth from England absolutely necessary to them ? A. No, by no means absolutely necessary ; with in- Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 419 dustry and good management, they may very well supply themselves with all they want. 62. Q. Will it not take a long time to establish that manufacture among them? and must they not in the mean while suffer greatly? A. I think not. They have made a surj^rising progress already. And I am of opinion, that before their old clothes are worn out, they will have new ones of their own making. . . . 82. Q. Can anything less than a military force carry the Stamp Act into execution ? A. I do not see how a military force can be applied to that purpose. 83. Q. Why may it not ? A. Suppose a military force sent into America, they will find nobody in arms ; what are they then to do ? They cannot force a man to take stamps who chooses to do without them. They will not find a rebellion ; they may indeed make one. 84. Q. If the act is not repealed, what do you think will be the consequences? A. A total loss of the respect and affection the people of America bear to this country, and of all the commerce that depends on that respect and affection. 85. Q. How can the commerce be affected ? A. You will find, that if the act is not repealed, they will take a veiy little of your manufactures in a short time. 86. Q. Is it in their power to do without them ? A. I think they may very well do without them. 87. Q. Is it their interest not to take them? A. The goods they take from Britain are either neces- saries, mere conveniences, or superfluities. The first, as cloth, etc., with a little industry they can make at home; the second they can do without, till they are able to pro- 420 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin vide them among themselves ; and the last, which are much the greatest part, thoy will strike off immediately. They are mere articles of fashion, purchased and consumed because the fashion in a respected country ; but will now be detested and rejected. [Here follow a series of questions relating to the operation of the post-office, the duties on tobacco and sugar, the condition of the American people, etc.] 121. Q. If the act should be repealed, and the legisla- ture should show its resentment to the opposers of the Stamp Act, would the colonies acquiesce in the authority of the legislature? What is your opinion they would do? A. I don't doubt at all, that if the legislature repeal the Stamp Act, the colonies will acquiesce in the authority. 122. Q. But if the legislature should think fit to ascer- tain its right to lay taxes, by any act laying a small tax, contrary to their opinion, would they submit to pay the tax ? A. The proceedings of the people in America have been considered too much together. The proceedings of the Assemblies have been very different from those of the mobs, and should be distinguished, as having no connec- tion with each other. The Assemblies have only peace- ably resolved what they take to be their rights; they have taken no measures for opposition by foi'ce, they have not built a fort, raised a man, or provided a grain of ammu- nition, in order to such opposition. The ringleaders of riots, they think, ought to be punished ; they would pun- ish them themselves, if they could. Every sober, sensible man would wish to see rioters punished, as, otherwise, peaceable people have no security of person or estate ; but as to an internal tax, how small soever, laid by the legislature here on the people there, while they have no Franklin] A PARLIAMENTARY EXAMINATION. 421 representatives in this legislature, I think it will never be submitted to ; they will oppose it to the last ; the}' do not consider it as at all necessary for you to raise money on them by your taxes; because they are, and always have been, ready to raise money b}' taxes among themselves, and to grant large sums, equal to their abilities, upon requisition from the crown. [Franklin proceeded to express the opinion that the late war had been conducted by England for her own interests, and that it was not, in a proper sense, a war fur the good of the colonies.] 127. Q. Is it not necessar}^ to send troops to America to defend the Americans against the Indians? A. '^o. by no means; it never was necessary. They defended themselves when they were but a handful, and the Indians inueh more numerous. They continually gained ground, and have driven the Indians over the mountains, without any troops sent to their assistance from this countr3^ And can it be thought necessary now to send troops for their defence. from those diminished Indian tribes, when the colonies have become so populous and so strong? There is not the least occasion for it; the\' are very able to defend themselves. . . . 132. Q. If the Stamp Act should be repealed, and an act should pass, ordering the Assemblies of the colonies to indeninif}' the sufferers by the I'iots, would they obey it? A. That is a question I cannot answer. 133. Q. Suppose the King should require the colonies to grant a revenue, and the Parliament should be against their doing it, do they think the}' can grant a revenue to the King, without the consent of the Parliament of Great Britain ? A. That is a deep qiiestion. As to my own opinion, I should think myself at libert}' to do it, and should do it, if I liked the occasion. . . . T. 36 422 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Franklin 135. Q. If the act should pass requiring the American Assemblies to make compensation to the suiferers, and they should disobey it, and then the Parliament should, by another act, la}' an internal tax, would they then obey it? A. The people will pay no internal tax ; and I think an act to oblige the Assembhes to make compensation is un- necessary; for I am of opinion that as soon as the present neats are abated they will take the matter into considera- tion, and, if it is right to be done, they will do it of them- selves. . . . 152. Q. Don't you know that there is in the Pennsyl- vania charter an express reservation of the right of Parlia- ment to lay taxes there ? A. I know there is a clause in the charter by which the King grants that he will levy no taxes on the inhabitants, unless it be with the consent of the Assembly, or by act of Parliament. 153. Q. IIow, then, could the Assembly of Pennsylvania assert that laying a tax. on them by the Stamp Act was an infringement of their rights ? A. They understand it thus; by the same charter, and otherwise, they are entitled to all the privileges and liber- ties of Englishmen ; they find in the Great Charter.'', and the Petition and Declaration of Eights, that one of the privileges of English subjects is that they are not to be taxed but by their common consent ; they have therefore relied upon it, from the first settlement of the province, that the Parliament never would, nor could, by color of that clause in the charter, assume a right of taxing them, till it had qualified itself to exercise such right, b}?^ admit- ting representatives from the people to be taxed, who ought to make a part of that common consent. 154. Q. Are there any words in the charter that justify that construction ? FkanklIxv] a parliamentary EXAMINATION. 423 A. "The common rights of Englishmen," as declared by Magna Charta, and the Petition of Eight, all justify it. . . . 166. Q. If the Stamp Act should be repealed, would it induce the Assemblies of America to acknowledge the rights of Parliament to tax them, and would they erase iheir resolutions? A. No, never. 167. Q. Are there no means of obliging them to erase those resolutions? A. None that I know of; they will never do it, unless compelled by force of arms. 168. Q. Is there a power on earth that can force them to erase them ? A. No power, how great soever, can force men to change their opinions. 169. Q. Do they consider the post-office as a tax, or as a regulation? A. Not as a tax, but as a regulation and conveniency ; every Assembly encouraged it, and supported it in its infancy, by grants of money, which they would not other- wise have done; and the people have always paid the postage. . . . 173. Q. What used to be the pride of the Americans? A. To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of Great Britain. 174. Q. What is now their pride? A. To wear their old clothes over again till they can make new ones. 424 AMERICAN HISTORY. [LoBOE THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. HENRY C. LODGE. [One important result of the dissensions between America and Eng- land, and of the revolutionary sentiment which was rapidly extending, was the growth of a powerful school of oratory, the necessary outcome of political agitation. Numbers of glowing orators appeared, whose eloquent appeals did much towards spreading the flame of discontent and sustaining the people in their ardent resistance to the tyranny of the British Parliament. The most important of these political leaders and orators were natives of Virginia, Massachusetts, and South Caro- lina. In Virginia the brilliant declamations of Patrick Henry were firebrands of revolution. Other sliilled and accomplished orators were Edmund Pendleton, Eichard Bland, George Wythe, Peyton Kandolph, and Eichard Henry Lee. Two other Virginians of extraordinary abili- ties we may here name, George Washington, already the greatest sol- dier in America, and Thomas Jefferson, a man of remarkable powers, all of which were steadily exerted in the cause of American liberty. To the skill and ardor of Otis and Thacher, as defenders of the rights of their countrymen, we have already adverted. Not less ardent and fearless was Samuel Adams, one of the greatest of ante-Eevolu- tionary Americans. Other prominent leaders in Massachusetts wece John Hancock, Thomas Gushing, and James Bowdoin, merchants ; Samuel Cooper, a clergyman ; Josiah Quincy and Eobert Treat Paine, lawyers ; and John Winthrop, a Harvard professor. The notable ora- tors of South Carolina were John Eutledge, whose powers rivalled those of Patrick Henry ; Christopher Gadsden, a fearless republican; Henry Laurens, David Eamsay, and Edward Eutledge, brother of John, and whose eloquence was as graceful as his brother's was impetuous. We might add to these names those of men of equal ability, daring, and patriotism in the other provinces, but it will suffice here to name Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania, to whose services in the cause of liberty we have already given some attention, and who, mentally, was one of the greatest men that the world has ever produced. To his name may be added that of Thomas Paine, an advocate of liberty of remarkable brilliance of style and uncompromising courage in pub- lishins: his sentiments. Of the stirrins; events which followed the re- Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 425 peal of the Stamp Act we give a brief but lucid review from Lodge's " Short History of the English Colonies in America."] The sound of the rejoicings called foi'th by the repeal of the Stamp Act had hardly died away before it was seen how little had really been gained beyond immediate and temporary relief. The Stamp Act was gone, but the Declaratory Act, and the Sugar Act, and the Mutiny Act, requiring quarters to be provided for English troops, and recently extended to the colonies, remained unmodified and unchanged. The Eockiugham ministry was dissolved ; Pitt came again to the helm, and was made the Earl of Chatham. The clouds of his strange illness gathered about the prime minister, and the conduct of affairs fell into the hands of Charles Townshend, a believer in the Stamp Act, and with no faith in Pitt's distinction between internal and external taxation. He was determined to pursue the policy of Grenville, and laid his plans to quar- ter garrisons in the large towns of America and have them supported by the colonial Assemblies, and to exact a revenue from the colonies. The trouble had, indeed already begun in New York, where the Assembl}^, which had passed a limited act for the supply of two regiments in December, 1766, refused to provide for quartering troops, and stood firm through a long controversy with Sir Henry Moore. In the following spring, Parliament, under the lead of Townshend, suspended the legislative powers of I^ew York, as a punishment for their disobedi- ence. This was a warning which could not be mistaken. In the other colonies, even when requisitions were com- plied with, there was careful evasion of obedience to the terms of the act, and sympathy with New York spread far and wide, carrying with it deep disquiet and indigna- tion. Not content with beginning to enforce the Mutiny Act, Townshend carried measures to impose port duties 3a* 426 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lodge on wine, oil, and fruit from Spain and Portugal, ai;d on glass, paper, lead, colors, and tea. The revenue thus raised was to be used for the payment of the crown officers, and for the establishment of a civil list. This was a blow at the most vital rights of the colonies, for it took from them the control of their governments. The new policy, un- checked by the death of Townshend in the autumn of 1767, excited the utmost apprehension in America, and fanned into flame the smouldering embers of the oppo- sition to the Stamp Act. Again non-importation agree- ments wei'e discussed, but without combination or effect ; and Massachusetts, thoroughly alarmed at the prospect of independent crown officers, determined on stronger meas- ures. The Assembly resolved to send a petition to the king, and letters to the statesmen of England. In the petition, drawn, probably, by Samuel Adams, the Assembly set forth the conditions of their settlement, argued against taxation without representation, and protested against the presence of a standing army, and the project of render- ing the judicial and executive officers independent of the people. They followed this action by a resolve inviting the other colonies to unite with them in petitions to the king against the new taxation. At every step Bernard and Hutchinson resisted the Assembly, which moved forward steadily, cautiously, and firmly, making no mistakes, and giving no openings. Bernard and the crown officers met the action of the Assembly by a counter-memorial, inveigh- ing against the freedom and independent temper of the colonists, and advising the immediate presence of fleets and armies, — supporting their requests with tales of projected riois, for the people had begun to be restless, although there was really no danger of any serious outbreak. Hillsborough, the new Secretarj^ of State, and the king's friends were indiirnant at the action of Massachusetts, and Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 427 letters were sent to the other colonies denouncing the Massachusetts cii'cular, and to Bernard instructing him to order the House to rescind their resolve, and, if they re- fused, to dissolve them. Meantime, the excitement in- creased. John Hancock's sloop Liberty was seized, on the ground of evasion of the customs. There was a shght disturbance, and revenue officers, in pretended fear of their lives, took refuge on the Romney man-of-war, while the town and the governor quarrelled about the affair. When the general court met, strengthened by the sympathy of Connecticut and New Jersey, and by the letter of Virginia, where their principles had been sustained by resolutions of the Burgesses, Hillsborough's letter was presented. The House, by an overwhelming vote, refused to rescind ; the court was dissolved, and Massachusetts was left with- out a legislature. Boston town meeting took into its hands the power which Hillsborough and Bernard sought to crush. They called a convention of delegates from the towns of the province while troops were on their way to Massachusetts ; and this convention came together, de- manded in vain a general court, passed strong resolutions against taxation and a standing army, and adjourned, while the Council refused to make provision for the ex- pected soldiers until the barracks were filled, and the old beacon was prepared as in the days of Andros. Soon after the convention dissolved, two regiments, presently in- creased to four, and artillery, landed and marched into the town. The Council refused quarters until the barracks were occujDied ; and, after camping for some time in the open air, the troops were finally quartered and supplied at the expense of the crown. No measure could possibly have been taken better calculated to produce civil war. The troops were sent to overawe, and they merely irritated the people. Into a peaceful town, into a province which 428 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lodge had simply remonstrated and petitioned legally and prop- erly in defence of their rights, were suddenly thrust royal regiments. The strong feeling of independence in a coun- try where garrisons were absolutely unknown was out- raged, while the bad character and licentious habits of the soldiery incensed a rigid, austere, and sober people. At- tempts at military coercion and the presence of troops were sure to breed trouble; and, woi-se than this, they not only awakened the sympathy of the other colonies, but alarmed them for their own safety. It was outside press- ure and peril in its strongest form, and nothing tended so strongly to produce the union which alone could be fatal to English rule. In Yirginia, when the Burgesses met, resolutions were passed declaring again-st taxation, and asserting the right to trial by a jury of the vicinage, and to combination among the colonies. Botetourt dissolved the Assembly, and the Burgesses met in convention and formed a strin- gent non-importation agreement. Virginia carried with her the Southern colonies, and her example was followed in Delaware and Pennsylvania, and when the general court came together again in Massachusetts they promptly adopted the resolutions. Some of the troops had been withdrawn; but two regiments were kept on Bernard's request, and he and the legislature were in no good humor when they met at Cambridge, whither the governor ad- journed them. The House refused flatly to provide for troops, or to give a salary for the year to Bernard, who was recalled, and who soon after, having prorogued the refractory Assembly, departed from Boston, amid the noisy rejoicings of the populace, leaving Hutchinson to rule in his stead. While Massachusetts and Virginia were thus coming together and preparing the American Union, the ministry in England, halting and undecided, rather Lodge] THE GROWTH OF DISCONTENT. 429 frightened at the results of their energetic policy, and desperately embroiled with Wilkes, decided to recede. They sent a circular to the colonies, promising to lay no more taxes, and to repeal the duties on glass, paper, and colors, retaining only that on tea. Their action was that of well-meaning, narrow, and weak men. They should either then and there have enforced their policy at the point of the bayonet, or they should have fully and frankly given way on every point. To save their pride, maintain their doctrines, and please the king, they retained one paltry tax, yielding perhaps three hundred pounds a year, but which carried the vital principle with it as surely and clearly as revenue involving millions. The course of the ministry had slowly brought the conflict to the point at which complete victory on one side or the other was alone possible. The colonies were fully alive to the situation, and saw that while one tax remained nothing had been gained. The non-importation agreements spread every- where, and w^ere strongly enforced, and all society was drawn into a refusal to use tea. Conflicts with the rev- enue oflicers in Rhode Island and elsewhere grew tnore and more frequent, and the relations of the people with the soldiery in New York and Boston more and more strained. In ISTew York there were violent aff'rays between the soldiers and the people over the erection of the libert}-- pole, and there was fighting in the streets. These out- breaks heightened the feeling in Boston, where the soldiers were taunted and insulted, and where recurring fights between populace and red-coats showed that a crisis was at hand. On the 3d of March there was an ugly brawl, and on the evening of the 5th there was another fi'ay, and trouble with the sentry. Before quiet was restored there was renewed fighting, and a crowd gathered round the sentry in King Street. Alarmed and angry, the man 430 AMERICA y HISTORY. [Lodge called out the guard ; the mob rapidly increased ; insults "were followed by missiles ; one soldier discharged his gun ; there was a scattering fire from the troops, and three of the citizens were killed and two mortally wounded. Blood had been shed, and it looked as if civil war had begun. The regiments were turned out. the people poured into the streets ; it was a mere chance that the American Eev- olution was not then to open. But Hutchinson appeared in the balcony of the State-House, promised an investiga- tion, and besought peace. The people dispersed, and war was for the moment averted ; but nothing could efface the memory of this affray. Eegular troops had fired upon the citizens, human life had been sacrificed, and the ex- aggerated title of the '• Boston Massacre" showed the im- portance attached to this event, which served for years to keep alive and develop resistance to England. The morning after the massacre the select-men waited on Hutchinson and urged the removal of the troops. At eleven the town meeting came together, and chose a com- mittee, with Samuel Adams at its head, to wait upon the governor and demand the withdrawal of the troops. Hutchinson wished to delay and postpone. He offered to have the Twenty-Xinth Eegiment. which had fired on the people, removed to the Castle, and the other put under proper restraint. The committee went back through thronged streets, and made its report, which was pro- nounced unsatisfactory, and a new committee, again headed bv Adams, went back to the governor. The interview which followed in the council-chamber, as the daylight slowly faded, was one of the great dramatic scenes of the American Eevolution. In that moment Samuel Adams was pre-eminent, and all the greatness and force of his mind and character concentrated to raise him up as the great tribune of the people. The incarnation of right and Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 43 1 justice, the true champion of the people, he stood before the fit representative of a weak, vacillating, proud, and stupid ministry, and made the representative quail before him. " If you can remove one, you can remove both," he said to Hutchinson; "there are three thousand peopie in yonder town meeting ; the country is rising ; night is fall- ing ; and we must have an answer." Hutchinson hesitated a moment, trembled, and gave way. Before a week elapsed, all the troops were withdrawn ; and meantime they had watched the funerals of their victims, seen their compan- ions arrested for murdei*, beheld a town meeting called to hurry their departure, and had been kept under strict guard by the militia of the town they went forth to gar- rison. Staying and going were alike full of humiliation and defeat, it was a great triumph ; and as the news of the events at Boston spread, a strong sense of relief filled the colonies. THE TEA TAX AND THE BOSTON PORT BILL. JAMES GRAHAME. [The state of irritation into which America had heen thrown by the injudicious measures of the British Parliament was not allayed by it3 subsequent action. Before proceeding with the record of these events, reference may be made to an outbreak which at this time occurred in North Carolina, not directly due to English action, yet arising from the corruption and inefficiency of functionaries of the British government. Abuses in the collection of exorbitant fees by public officers, and in permitting the sheriffs and tax-collectors to delay the payment of public moneys, produced an association of the poorer colo- nists, who claimed that they were being overtaxed for the support of dishonest officers, and who assumed the title of Regulators. Other events added to their discontent, and thev broke out into wild out- 432 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gkahame rages, assembling in 1771 to the number of two thousand, and de- claring their purpose to abolish coui-ts of justice, exterminate lawyers and public officers, and overturn the provincial government in favor of some mad scheme of democracy devised by their foolish or knavish leaders. The respectable part of the community rose in opposition to these insurgents, and in a battle at Almansee, on May 16, the Regu- lators were routed, three hundred of them being left dead on the field. Others were condemned and executed for high treason, and peace was restored to the province. Events more directly connected with the struggle between the colonies and Great Britain rapidly succeeded in the other provinces, a statement of the more important of which we select from Grahame's " Colonial History of the United States."] An act of violence committed by the colonists of Rhode Island, though less memorable in respect of its intrinsic importance than the insurrection of the Regulators in North Carolina, excited more general attention from its significance as an indication of the height to which the general current of American sentiment was rising. The commander of the Gaspee, an armed British schooner stationed at Providence, had exerted much activity in 8Uf)porting the trade laws and punishing the increasing contraband traflSc of the Americans, and had provoked additional resentment by firing at the Providence packets in order to compel them to salute his flag by lowering theirs as they passed his vessel, and by chasing them even into the docks in. case of refusal. The master of a packet conveying passengers to Providence (June 9, 1772), which was fired At and chas-ed by the Gaspee for neglecting to pay the requisite tribute of respect, took advantage of the state of the tide (it being almost high water) to stand in so closely to the shore that the Gaspee in the pursuit might be exposed to run agi'ound. The artifice succeeded ; the Gaspee presently stuck fast, and the packet proceeded in triumph to Providence, where a strong sensation was excited by the tidings of the occurrence, and a project was Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 433 hastily formed to improve the blow and destroy the ob- noxious vessel. Brown, an eminent merchant, and Whip- ple, a ship-master, took the lead in this bold adventure, and easily collected a sufficient band of armed and resolute men, with whom they embarked in whale-boats to attack the British ship of war. At two o'clock the next morning they boarded the Gaspee so suddenly and in such num- bers that her crew were instantly overpowered, without hurt to any one except her commanding officer, who was wounded. The captors, having despatched a part of their number to convey him, together with his private effects and his crew, ashore, set fire to the Gaspee and destroj^ed her, with all her stores. The issue of this daring act of war against the naval force of the king was as remarkable as the enterprise itself [A large reward was offered for information, and commissioners appointed to try the of- fenders.] But no trial took place. Nobody came forward to claim the proffered reward ; . . . and in the commence- ment of the following year the commissioners reported to the British ministry their inability, notwithstanding the most diligent inquisition, to procure evidence or informa- tion against a single individual. [In Massachusetts a violent enmity had arisen between Hutchin son, the governor, and the majority of the Assembly, which produced several controversies. Among the most notable of these was the effort of the Assembly to abolish the slave-trade. In 1712 the importation of slaves into Massachusetts had been forbidden, but her merchants were not restrained from conveying slaves to other provinces. No fewer than four bills prohibiting traffic in negroes were, during the ad- ministrations of Governors Bernard and Hutchinson, passed by the Assembly, but they were all negatived by the governors.] The British government, meanwhile, having rashly de- termined to enforce the Tea-duty Act, of which the most considerable effect hitherto was a vast importation of 434 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame smuggled tea into America by the French, the Dutch, the Danes, and the Swedes, attempted to compass by pohcy what constraint and authoi-ity had proved insufficient to accomplish. The measures of the Americans had already occasioned such diminution of exports from Britain that the warehouses of the English East India Company con- tained above seventeen millions of pounds of tea, for which it was difficult to procure a mai'ket. The unwillingness of the Compan}^ to lose their commercial profits, and of the ministry to forego the expected revenue from the sale of tea in America, induced a compromise for their mutual advantage. A high duty was imposed hitherto on the ex- portation of tea from England ; but the East India Com- pany were now authorized by act of Parliament to expoi't their tea free of duty to all places whatever (May, 1773). By this contrivance it was expected that tea, though loaded with an exceptionable tax on its importation into America, would yet readily obtain purchasers among the Americans ; as the vendors, relieved of the British export duty, could afford to sell it to them even cheaper than before it was made a source of American revenue. The crisis now drew near when the Americans were to decide whether they would submit to be taxed by the British Parliament, or practically support their own princi- ples and brave the most perilous consequences of their in- flexibility. One common sentiment was awakened through- out the whole continent by the tidings of the ministerial device, which was universally reprobated as an attempt, at once injurious and insulting, to bribe the Americans to surrender their rights and bend their own necks to the yoke of arbitrary power. A violent ferment ai"ose; the corresponding committees and political clubs ex- erted their utmost activity to rouse and unite the people ; and it was generally declared that, as every citizen owed Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 435 to his country the duty at least of refraining from being accessory to her subjugation, every man who countenanced the present measure of the British government should be deemed an enemy of America. . , . The East India Company, confident of finding a market for their tea, reduced as it was now in price, freighted several ships to America with this commodity, and ap- pointed consignees to receive and dispose of it. Some cargoes were sent to New York, some to Philadelphia, some to Charleston, the metropolis of South Carolina, and some to Eoston. The inhabitants of New York and Philadelphia prevailed with the consignees to disclaim their functions, and forced the ships to return with their cargoes to London. The inhabitants of Charleston unladed the tea, and de- posited it in public cellars, where it was locked up from use and finally perished. At Boston, the consignees, who were the near kinsmen of Governor Hutchinson, at first refused to renounce their appointments (November 5) ; and the vessels containing the tea lay for some time in the harbor, watched by a strong guard of the citizens, who, from a numerous town meeting, despatched peremptory commands to the ship-masters not to land their obnoxious cargoes. . . . [The consignees] proposed then to the people that the tea should be landed, and preserved in some public store or magazine ; but this compromise was indignantly rejected. At length the popular rage broke through every restraint of order and decency. From the symptoms of its dangerous fervor the consignees fled in dismay to the Castle ; while an assemblage of men, dressed and painted like Mohawk Indians, boarded the vessels and threw the tea into the ocean (December 16). It was remarked with some surprise that during the whole of this transaction the civil and mihtary force of government, including the garrison of Castle William and 436 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame several ships of war in the harbor, remained completely inactive. The governor, indeed, issued a proclamation for- bidding the people to assemble in factious meetings. But the council, when their protection was implored by the consignees, refused to intei-fere at all in the matter; and though, after the outrage was committed, they condemned its perpetration and invoked legal vengeance upon all who had been engaged in it, the futility of this demonstration was obvious to every eye. To procure legal proof that would implicate even a single individual was notoriously impossible. [Another source of popular irritation was the proceeding of the ministry against Franklin. He had obtained and made public some letters of Hutchinson and others, misrepresenting the occurrences in America and pressing the ministry to support their schemes by mili- tary power. The Massachusetts Assembly now petitioned the king to remove these obnoxious persons from office. This was refused, and severe measures were taken against Franklin.] On the following day [after the rejection of the petition] Franklin was dismissed by the British government from the office of postmaster-general of America. These pro- ceedings, and especially the elaborate malignity of insult heaped [during the discussion] upon a man whom they so highly admired and respected, sank deeply into the minds of the Americans. Another act of British power, that was directed with the most childish absurdity against the scientific repute of Franklin, awakened the liveliest de- rision and disdain in America. For the king, shortly after, transported by the blindest abhorrence of the American philosopher, for whom he bad once professed esteem, actu- ally caused the electrical conductors invented by Franklin to be removed from the palace of Buckingham House and replaced by instruments of far less skilful construction and efficient capacity. Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 437 [Hutchinson was soon after recalled to England, ostensibly to inform the ministers regarding the state of the colonies.] Along with Tryon, who was afterwards recalled from New York, and Carleton, the governor of Canada, he was desired by the cabinet to declare his opinion whether the Americans, in the last extremity, would venture to resist the arms of Britain, Hutchinson confidentlj' predicted that they would either not fight at all. or at most offer no farther opposition than what a few troops could easilj- quell. Carleton protested that America might certainly be conquered, but that a considerable army would be neces- earj' for this purpose, and that, for himself, he would not venture to niarch against New York or Boston with a smaller force than ten thousand men. Tryon declared that Britain would require lai'ge armies and long efforts to bring America to her feet ; that her power was equal to anything, but that all her power must be exerted in order to put the monster in chains. The representations of Hutchinson were the most congenial to the sentiments and the temper of the British government; and, unfortu- nately for England, they were corroborated by the kin- dred folly and ignorance of many British statesmen and officers. " The Americans are a degenei*ate race of Euro- peans; they have nothing of the soldier in them," was the customarj^ language of men who were destined by their own defeats to illustrate the valor which they depre- ciated, and who learned too late to consider the Americans as a regenerated race of Europeans, in whom the energy of freemen more than supplied the mechanical expertness of severely-disciplined slaves. General Clarke . . . de- clared in a company of learned men at London, and in the hearing of Dr. Franklin, that with a thousand British grenadiers he would undertake to march from one end of America to another. . . . Another general officer asserted 37* 438 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Graham e in the House of Commons that "T/ie Yankees (a foolish nickname which now began to be applied to the Ameri- cans) never felt bold.'" The speeches of other military officers in Parliament, and of the prime minister, Lord North, conveyed ideas equall}^ calculated to delude their countrymen and to inflame by contumely all the rage and courage which injustice and injury had already kindled in the Americans. ^^ Believe me, my lords," said the Earl of Sandwich, First Lord of the Admiralty, in the House of Peers, " the first sound of a cannon wull send the Americans a-runniug as fast as their feet can carry them." Unfortunately for his country, he was believed. [During the period here indicated the population of America was rapidly increasing. We have few statistics, but these are very sugges- tive. Seventeen thousand three hundred and fifty emigrants reached America from the north of Ireland alone in 1771 and 1772. In the fii-st fortnight of August, 1773, three thousand five hundred emigrants ti-om Ireland landed at Philadelphia. Many others came from Scot- land, Holland, Germany, and elsewhere. The countr}- was fast filling up with people who had been oppressed at home and who wei-e in the proper temper to strike for liberty abroad. With the infatuation which had all along marked the acts of Par- liament and the ministry, new measures of coercion were now adopted, calculated to increase the irritation of the colonists. Exasperated by the opposition to the sale of tea in America, and in particular by its destruction at Boston, the ministry determined on more stringent measures, and selected this town as the culprit to be disciplined. A bill was hastily passed, suspending the trade and closing the harbor of Boston. It was followed by another bill destroying the representative government of Massachusetts, by declaring that the provincial council should be appointed by the crown, that the royal governor should ap- point and remove all important executive officers, and that no town meeting should be held without written permission from the governor. Other stringent measures were passed, despite the warning protest of an old member of the House of Commons : "If there ever was a nation running headlong to its ruin, it is this." The tidings of the Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 439 passage of these bills produced universal indignation in America. Philadelphia made a liberal contribution in aid of the poorer inhabi- tants of Boston who might be injured by the operation of the Port Bill. In Virginia a day of fasting and prayer was ordered, and Jef- ferson published an indignant protest. Strong feeling was exhibited in all the other provinces.] On the day when the operation of the Boston Port Bill was appointed to commence (June 1, 1774) all the com- mercial business of the capital of Massachusetts was con- cluded at noon, and the harbor of this flourishing town was closed, till the gathering storm of the Eevolution was to reopen it. At WilHamsburg, in Virginia, the day was devoutly consecrated to the religious exercises recom- mended by the Assembly. At Philadelphia it was solem- nized by a great majority of the population with every testimonial of public gi'ief ; all the inhabitants, except the Quakers, shut uj) their houses ; and after divine service a deep and ominous stillness reigned in the city. In other parts of America it was also observed as a day of mourn- ing; and the sentiments thus widely awakened were kept alive and exasperated by the distress to which the inhabi- tants of Boston were reduced by the continued operation of the Port Bill, and by the fortitude with which they endured it. The rents of the landholders in and around Boston now ceased or were greatly diminished ; all the wealth vested in warehouses and wharves was rendered unproductive ; from the merchants was wrested the com- merce they had reared, and the means alike of providing for their families and paying their debts; the artificers employed in the numerous crafts nourished by an exten- sive commerce shared the general hardship ; and a great majority of that class of the community who earned daily bread by their dail}^ labor were deprived of the means of support. But, animated still by that enduring and daunt- 440 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Grahame less sj)irit of freedom which had been the parent principle of the New England communities, the inhabitants of Bos- ton sustained the presence of this calamity with inflexible fortitude. Their virtue was cheered by the sympathy, and their sufferings were mitigated by the generosity, of the sister colonies. In all the American States contribu- tions were made for their relief. Corporate bodies, town meetings, and provincial conventions, from all quarters, transmitted to them letters and addresses, apj)lauding their conduct, and exhorting them to perseverance. [The royal garrison of Boston was now augmented, and its fortifica- tions strengthened and increased, thus adding to the irritation of the people. At the suggestion of the Massachusetts Assembly, a Congress of the provinces was called. This Congress, embracing members from all the colonies except Georgia, met at Philadelphia on September 5, 1774. Of the debates of this body, which continued in session eight weeks, no authentic report exists, but it published a Declaration of the Eights of America, with many other acts in which a determined spirit of resistance to tyranny was indicated. Before dissolving, it was de- creed to meet again on May 10, 1775, if no redress of American griev- ances was granted. A cargo of tea about this time entered the harbor of Annapolis, Maryland, but the ship-master became so alarmed by the popular excitement that he asked the advice of an able lawyer, Charles Carroll of Carrollton, as to what he should do. Carroll ad- vised him to burn the vessel and cargo. This advice was taken. " The sails were set, the colors displayed, and the vessel burned amidst the acclamations of the multitude." In Massachusetts, General Gage had called a meeting of the Assem- \Aj. But, alarmed by the temper of the people, he issued a proclama- tion suspending its meeting. In defiance of his power the Assembly met, elected John Hancock its president, and proceeded to the bold and extreme measure of calling out the militia for the defence of the province. A portion of them were to be ready to meet at a minute's warning, and generals were appointed to command these minute-men, and the militia at large.] And now all America was aroused by expectation of Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 441 awful conflict and mighty change. Now England, upon which the first violence of the storm seemed likely to descend, was agitated by rumors and alarms, of which the imjDort and the influence strikingly portrayed the senti- ments and temper of the people. Reports that Gage had commanded his troops to attack the Massachusetts militia, or to fire upon the town of Boston, were swallowed with the avidity of rage and hatred, and instantly covered the highways with thousands of armed men, mustering in hot haste, and eager to rush forward to death or revenge. Everything betokened the explosion of a tempest ; and some partial gusts announced its near approach, and proved the harbingers of its ^nvj. In the close of the year there reached America a proclamation issued by the king, pro- hibiting the exportation of military stores from Great Britain. The inhabitants of Ehode Island no sooner i-e- ceived intelligence of this mandate than they removed from the public batter}- about forty pieces of cannon ; and the Assembly of the province gave orders for procuring arms and martial stores, and for the immediate equipment of a martial force. In IS'ew Hampshire, a band of four hundred men, suddenly assembling in arms, and conducted by John Sullivan, an eminent lawyer and a man of great ambition and intrepidity, gained possession by surprise of the castle of Portsmouth, and confined the royal garrison till the powder-magazine was ransacked and its contents carried away. [These violent demonstrations provoked new measures of oppression in Parliament. Lord Chatham, indeed, after seeking the counsel of Benjamin Franklin, introduced a bill calculated to remove the causes of disaffection in America. But this bill was rejected, and one in- troduced by Lord North was passed, ■jvhich virtually extended the measures of the Boston Port Bill to all New England. As it soon appeared that the other provinces supported New England, the provis- ions of the bill to restrain commerce were extended to them all, with 442 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Graham k the exception of New York, Delaware, and North Carolina. But this exemption failed to produce its designed effect, since the exempted colonies at once declared their intention to accept the restraints imposed on their neighbors.] The example of Massachusetts in preparing for defence was followed by the other provinces ; and warlike counsels were boldly broached in the provincial Assemblies and Congresses. When some members of the Virginia Assem- bly urged the postponement of those preparations, remind- ing their colleagues of the power of Britain and the com- parative weakness of America, and insisting that it Avould be time enough to fly to arms when every well-founded hope of peace had entirely vanished, Patrick Henry, with vehement and victorious eloquence, contended that that time had already come. "It is natural," said he, "to man to in- dulge in the illusions of hope. We are prone to shut our e3'es against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that enchantress till she transforms us into beasts. There is no longer any room for hope. We must fight. I repeat it, sir, we must fight. An appeal to arms and to the God of hosts is all that is left us. They tell us that we are weak^ and unable to cope with so formidable an adversary. But when shall we be stronger ? Will it be when our supineness shall have enabled our enemies to bind us hand and foot? Sir, we are not weak, if we make use of those means which the God of nature has placed in our power. Three millions of people armed in the holy cause of liberty, and in such a country as ours, are invincible by any force which our enemy can send against us. 'Sov shall we fight our battles alone. That God who presides over the destinies of nations will raise up friends to aid us. The battle is not to the strong alone, but to the vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, we have no longer a choice. If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire from Grahame] the tea tax AND BOSTON PORT BILL. 443 the contest. There is no retreat but in submission and slavery. Our chains are forged ; their clanking may be heard upon the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable — and let it come ! Gentlemen may cry, ' Peace ! Peace !' — but there is no peace. The war is actually begun. The next gale which sweejDS from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms." [These words proved prophetic. Arms and provisions were' being diligently collected in Massachusetts, in preparation for an expected conflict. General Gage was not unaware of nor inditferent to these proceedings.] Having leai'ned that some military stores belonging to the colonists were deposited in Salem, he despatched Colonel Leslie from Castle William, on the 26th of Feb- ruary, with one hundred and forty soldiers, in a transport, to seize them. The troops, landing at Marblehead, pro- ceeded to Salem ; but, not finding there the object of their expedition, they advanced along the road leading to Dan- vers, whither the stores had been removed, and reached the drawbridge laid across the river. Here a number of the country-people were assembled, and on the opposite side the American colonel Pickering had mustered thirty or forty armed men, and, having drawn up the bridge, stood prepared to dispute the passage of the river. Leslie com- manded them to lower the bridge ; but, as they peremp- torily refused, he was preparing to cross the river in some boats that were moored to the shore, when the people, who had gathered round him, perceiving his intention, sprang into the boats and scuttled them with axes. [As the stores were now removed, and the purpose of the British negatived, it was decided that Leslie might cross the river and march thirty paces beyond it, as a point of honor, and then return without attempting farther progress.] 444 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Higginson At length the bridge was lowered ; and Pickering with his men, still facing the British troops, retired to the line they had measured and marked. Leslie and his soldiers, after advancing to the stipulated point, returned and em- bai'ked for Boston. Thus ended the first military enter prise of the Eevolutionary "War, — without effect and with- out bloodshed. [Its main effect was to add to the bitterness and to redouble the vigilance of the Americans in guarding their stores. The second en- terprise of this kind was not destined to end so harmlessly.] THE FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. THOMAS WENTWORTH HIGGINSON. [A magazine of military stores had been collected at the inland town of Concord, about sixteen miles from Boston. This Gage learned of, and determined to destroy. For this purpose he sent a force by night, on a secret and rapid march. Several British officers posted themselves on the road leading to Concord to intercept any messengers who might be sent out to give warning of this design. But the patriots of Boston were too alert to be thus checked. No sooner had indica- tions of the enterprise appeared than messengers were abroad, and the alarm was rapidly communicated by the ringing of bells and dis- charge of signal-guns. One citizen of Concord, Eeuben Brown by name, " rode a hundred miles in the space of twenty-four hours in order to disseminate the intelligence." The story of this expedition we select from Higginson's " History of the United States."] When France, in 1763, surrendered Canada to England, it suddenly opened men's eyes to a very astonishing fact. They discovered that British America had at once become a country so large as to make England seem ridiculously small. Even the cool-headed Dr. Franklin, writing that Higginson] first shots of the revolution. 445 same 3'ear to Mary Stevenson in London, sj)oke of Eng- land as " that petty island, which, eompai'ed to America, is but a stepping-stone in a brook, scarce enough of it above water to keep one's shoes dry." The far-seeing French statesmen of the period looked at the matter in the same way. Choiseul, the prime minister who ceded Canada, claimed afterward that he had done it in order to destroy the British nation by creating for it a rival. This assertion was not made till ten years later, and may very likely have been an after-thought, but it was destined to be confirmed by the facts. . . . Boston in the winter of 1774-75 was a town of some seventeen thousand inhabitants, garrisoned by some three thousand British troops. It was the only place in the Massachusetts colony where the royal governor exercised any real authority, and where the laws of Parhament had any force. The result was that its life was paralyzed, itp people gloomy, and its commerce dead. The other colo- nies were still hoping to obtain their rights by policy or by legislation, by refusing to import or to consume, and they watched with constant solicitude for some riotous demonstration in Boston. On the other hand, the popular leaders in that town were taking the greatest pains that there should be no outbreak. There was risk of one when- ever soldiers were sent on any expedition into the country. One might have taken place at Marshfield in January, one almost happened at Salem in February, yet still it was postponed. No publicity was given to the patriotic mili- tary organizations in Boston ; as little as j^ossible was said about the arms and stores that were gathered in the coun- try-, Not a life had been lost in any popular excitement since the Boston Massacre in 1770. The responsibility of the first shot, the people were determined, must rest upon the royal troops. So far was this carried that it was hon- I. 35 446 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hiqginson estly attributed by the British soldiers to cowardice alone. An officer, quoted by Frothingham, wrote home in No- vember, 1774, "As to what you hear of their taking ai^ms to resist the force of England, it is mere bullying, and will go no further than words ; whenever it comes to blows he that can run the fastest will think himself best off. Be- lieve me, any two regiments here ought to be decimated if they did not beat in the field the whole force of the Massachusetts province ; for, though the}' are numerous, they are but a mere mob, without order or discipline, and very awkward at handling their arms." But, whatever may have been the hope of carrying their point without fighting, the provincial authorities were steadily collecting provisions, arms, and ammunition. Unhappily, these essentials were hard to obtain. On April 19, 1775, the committee of safety could only count up twelve field-pieces in Massachusetts; and there had been collected in that colony 21,549 fire-arms, 17,441 pounds of powder, 22,191 pounds of ball, 144,699 flints, 10,108 bayonets, 11,979 pouches, 15,000 canteens. There were also 17,000 pounds of salt fish, 35,000 pounds of rice, with large quan- tities of beef and ^^ork. Viewed as an evidence of the forethought of the colonists, these statistics are remark- able ; but there was something heroic and indeed almost pathetic in the project of going to war with the British government on the strength of twelve field-pieces and seventeen thousand pounds of salt fish. Yet when, on the night of the 18th of April, 1775, Paul Hevere rode beneath the bright moonlight through Lex- ington to Concord, with Dawes and Prescott for comrades, he was carrying the signal for the independence of a nation. He had seen across the Charles Eiver the two lights from the church-steeple in Boston which were to show that a British force was going out to seize the patri- HiGGiNSOx] FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 447 otic suj^i^lies at Concord ; he had warned Hancock and Adams at Eev. Jonas Clark's parsonage in Lexington, and had rejected Sergeant Monroe's caution against unneces- sary noise, with the rejoinder, " You'll have noise enough here before long: the regulars are coming out." As he galloj^ed on his yvi\.y the regulars were advancing with steady step behind him. soon warned of their own danger by alarm-bells and signal-guns. When Revere was cap- tured by some British officers who happened to be near Concord, Colonel Smith, the commander of the expedition, had already halted, ordered Pitcairn forward, and sent back prudently for reinforcements. It was a night of ter- ror to all the neighboring Middlesex towns, for no one knew what excesses the angry British troops might com- mit on their return march. . . . Before 5 a.m. on April 19, 1775, the British troops had reached Lexington Green, where thii"ty-eight men, under Captain Parker, stood up before six hundred or eight hun- dred to be shot at, their captain saying, "Don't fire unless you are fired on ; but if they want a war, let it begin here." It began there ; they were fired upon ; they fired rather ineffectually in return, while seven were killed and nine wounded. The rest, after retreating, reformed and pur- sued the British towards Concord, capturing seven strag- glers, — the first prisoners taken in the war. Then followed the fight at Concord, where four hundred and fifty Ameri- cans, instead of thirty eight, were rallied to meet the Brit- ish. The fighting took place between two detachments at the North Bridge, where " once the embattled farmerfs stood, And fired the shot heard round the world." There the American captain, Isaac Davis, was killed at the first shot, — he who had said, when his company was 448 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Higginson placed at the head of the httle column, " I haven't a man that is afraid to go." He fell, and Major Buttrick gave the order, " Fire ! for God's sake, fire !" in return. The British detachment retreated in disorder, but their main body was too strong to be attacked, so they disabled a few cannon, destroyed some barrels of flour, cut down the liberty-pole, set fire to the court-house, and then began their return march. It ended in a flight; they were ex- posed to a constant guerilla fire; minute-men flocked behind every tree and house ; and only the foresight of Colonel Smith in sending for reinforcements had averted a sur- render. At 2 P.M., near Lexington, Percy with his troops met the returning fugitives, and formed a hollow square, into which they ran and thi-ew themselves on the ground exhausted. Then Percy in turn fell back. Militia still came pouring in from Dorchester, Milton, Dedham, as well as the nearer towns. A company from Danvers marched sixteen miles in four hours. The Americans lost ninety- three in killed, wounded, and missing that day; the British, two hundred and seventy-three. But the important result was that every American colony now recognized that war had begun. . . . The committee [of safety] had authority from the Pro- vincial Congress to order out the militia, and General Heath, who was a member of the committee, rode to take command of the provincials, with Warren by his side, who was sufficiently exposed that day to have a musket-ball strike the pin out of the hair of his ear-lock. The two continued together till the British army had crossed Charlestown Neck on its retreat, and made a stand on Bunker Hill. There they were covered by the ships. The militia were ordered to pursue no further, and General Heath held the first council of war of the Eevolution at the foot of Prospect Hill. . . . HiGGiNSON] FIRST SHOTS OF THE REVOLUTION. 449 It is always hard to interpret the precise condition of public feeling just before a war. It is plain that the Massachusetts committee expected something more than a contest of words when they made so many preparations. On the other hand, it is evident that hardly any one looked forward to any serious and prolonged strife. Dr. Warren wrote, soon after the 19th of April, " The people never seemed in earnest about the matter until after the engage- ment of the 19th ult., and I verily believe that the night preceding the barbarous outrages committed by the sol- diery at Lexington, Concord, etc., there were not fifty people in the whole colony that ever expected any blood would be shed in the contest between us and Great Britain." Yet two days after the fight at Lexington the Massachusetts committee of safety resolved to enlist eight thousand men. Two days after that the news reached New York at noon. There was a popular outbreak ; the royal troops were disarmed, the forts and magazines seized, and two transports for Boston unloaded. At five o'clock on Monday afternoon the tidings reached Philadelphia, when the bell in Independence Hall was rung, and the people gathered in numbers. When it got so far as Charles- ton, South Carolina, the people seized the arsenal, and the Provincial Congress proclaimed them "ready to sacrifice their lives and fortunes." In Savannah, Georgia, a mob took possession of the powder-magazine, and raised a liberty-pole. In Kentucky a party of hunters, hearing of the battle, gave their encampment the name of Lexington, which it still bears; and thus the news went on. Meanwhile, on May 10, the Continental Congress con- vened, and on the same day Ethan Allen took possession of the strong fortress of Ticonderoga. It was the first act of positive aggression by the patriotic party, for at both Lexington and Concord they were acting on the de- i.—dd 38* 450 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter fensive. The expedition was planned in Connecticut and reinforced in western Massachusetts, but the main reliance was to be placed on Ethan Allen and his " Green Mountain Boys," whose daring and energy wei*e already well known. Benedict Arnold, who had been commissioned in Massachu- setts for the same purpose, arrived only in time to join the expedition as a volunteer. On May 10, 1775, eighty- three men crossed the lake with Allen. When they had landed, he warned them that it was a dangerous enterprise, and called for volunteers. Every man volunteered. The rest took but a few moments. They entered with a war- whoop the open wicket-gate, pressing by the sentinel, and when the half-clad commander appeared and asked their authority, Allen answered with the words that have be- come historic, " In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress." The Congress was only to meet that day, but it appeared already to be exercising a sort of antenatal authority, and a fortress which had cost eight million pounds sterling and many lives was placed in its hands by a mere stroke of boldness. Crown Point gave itself up with equal ease to Seth Warner, and another dramatic surprise was given to the new-born nation. THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. WILLIAM CUTTER. [The obstinate effort of the British ministry to oblige the Americans to pay taxes in the lajnng of which they had had no voice, and to force them to submit to their will by military force and severe com- mercial restrictions, had laid a train of irritation through the colonies Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 451 ■wliich needed but a spark to kindle it into a blaze. That spark the fire of musketry at Lexington gave. A people who ten years before were fully loyal to England had been filled with rebellious sentiment by the effort to reduce them below the standard of liberty that was enjoyed by the English people. It was not, however, too late yet to bring them back to a state of loyalty. Had the troops been removed, the commercial restrictions abated, and the laying of taxes left to them- selves, it is not impossible that the region of the United States might yet have remained a portion of the British empire. It became impos- sible from the moment of the firing upon the militia at Lexington and Concord. The train which the ministry had laid was ignited by that act, and the whole people flamed up into war with a suddenness that must have greatly amazed those good easy legislators who were so firmly convinced that the Americans would not fight. In New Eng- land, in particular, the tide was definitely turned from peace to war. As the tidings were spread by rapidly-riding messengers, the farmers and artisans on all sides dropped the implements of industry, seized those of war, and marched in all haste upon Boston. One incident of this kind has become famous. Israel Putnam, who had won honors in the French and Indian War, and Captain Hubbard, were at work 6n their farms in adjoining fields, when a man on horseback, with a drum, stopped to tell them of the fight. Hubbard, a man of method, at once walked home, put things in order, filled his knapsack, and started for the camp ; but fiery old Putnam simply unyoked his team from the plough, sent his son home to tell his mother what had happened, mounted his horse, and dashed away for Boston, which he reached in twenty-four hours, though it was nearly one hundred miles distant. The militia were gathering with surprising rapidity. Within a few days an army of twenty thousand men was encamped around Boston, extending from Dorchester to the Mystic River, and completely enclos- ing the British troops within the city. Generals Ward and Putnam were made commanders of the army. Ward having the chief com- mand. In all haste they constructed lines of intrenchment sufficiently strong to encourage their undisciplined forces. During this interval, Gage, who had made no effort to face the provincials, was reinforced by troops under Generals Howe, Clinton, and Burgoyne, and had now an army of from ten to twelve thousand trained soldiers. Thus strengthened, he prepared to act with more energy, and issued a proclamation declaring those in arms rebels and traitors, and offering pardon to all who would go quietly home, with the exception of the 452 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Gutter arch-rebels Samuel Adams and John Hancock. The story of the stirring events which immediately followed we extract from Cutter's "Life of Israel Putnam."] The American commanders, having ascertained that the British intended to take i^ossessiou of the heights of Charlestown, as a vantage-ground from which to dislodge them from some of their intrenchments, and thus make a way into the country, resolved, by a sudden and secret movement, to defeat the project, by advancing to that position a portion of the left wing of their own camp. Putnam, who had ah'eady carefully examined the ground, was strenuously in favor of this movement, and had urged it again and again in council, with all the arguments at his command. In common with Preseott, and other vet- erans, who understood the character of the American sol- diery and knew the immense advantage to the order and discipline of the army which would be derived from active and hazardous service, he had repeatedly proposed to lead a party which should invite an engagement with the enemy. . . . The measure was ably opposed b}* some of the best and bravest men in the council, and there were obstacles in the way of its accomplishment which would have appalled any other men than those who planned and achieved it. One of these was the want of powder. There were, at that time, only eleven barrels in the public depots, and sixty-seven barrels in all Massachusetts, — scarcely enough, under the most prudent management, for one day's fight- ing. To this objection General Pomeroy answered that he was ready to lead his men to battle with but five car- tridges apiece. They were all experienced marksmen, and would fire no random shots ; and if every American killed his five, they would have but little occasion for more powder. . . . Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 453 The bolder counsels prevailed, and orders were issued to Colonels Prescott and Bridge, and the regiment of Colonel Frye, to be prepared for an expedition with all their men who were fit for service, and with one day's provision. The same order was issued to one hundred and twenty men of General Putnam's regiment, under the command of the brave Captain Knowlton, and one com- pany of artillery, with two field-pieces. Putnam, having the general superintendence of the expedition, and Colonel Gridley, the chief engineer, accompanied the troops. . . . The detachment drafted for this expedition, consisting of about one thousand men, under the immediate com- mand of Colonel Prescott, were assembled on the common at Cambridge at an early hour on the evening of the 16th of June, where prayers were offered by Eev. President Langdon, of Harvard College. Immediately after dark they commenced their silent march through Cambridge and across the Neck, Colonel Prescott leading the way. He was attended only by two sergeants, carrying dark lanterns, open only in the rear. Arrived at the base of Bunker Hill, they found the wagon laden with intrenching-tools, and then only were the men made acquainted with the nature and purpose of the expedition. A serious question now arose among the leaders. [It was perceived that intrenchments on Bunker Hill would be of minor importance unless the elevation known as Breed's Hill, nearer Boston, was seized and fortified. After a long consultation, Putnam's counsel was taken, to erect the main work on Breed's Hill, with a subsidiary one on Bunker Hill, as a protection to the rear, and as a rallying-point in case of defeat.] It was midnight before the first spade entered the ground. It was then within four days of the summer solstice. They had, consequently, but about four hours to 454 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter work, before the dawning light would disclose their opera- tions to the enemy and expose them to an immediate can- nonading from the batteries in Boston and the ships in the harbor. But such was the spirit and resolution of the whole party, officers and men, that the work was effected in that brief space. Instructed and stimulated by Putnam and Prescott, who did not fear a spade or a pickaxe any more than a sword or a musket, and feeling that life and liberty alike depended on their success, they performed prodigies of labor during that notable night, — surpassed only by the prodigies of valor by which they signalized the following day. The works being in a state of prom- ising forwardness, and every man cheerfully doing his whole duty, Putnam repaired to his camp at an early hour, to make all necessary preparations for the coming crisis. The crisis came with the dawning light. When the British officers, aroused at peep of day by their startled sentinels, beheld their daring foes above them, overlooking their whole position with formidable intrenchments, which had sprung up as by enchantment in the night, they could scarcely credit the evidence of their own senses. It was instantly perceived that, if the Americans were not driven from their bold position at once, Boston would be no longer tenable b}^ the British. A council of war was called, which directed an immediate assault. Meanwhile, as preparations for the assault were going on, a brisk but unavailing fire was opened upon the Amer- icans from the armed vessels and floating batteries, and from the battery on Copp's Hill. . . . General Putnam, on discovering the design of the enemj', returned imraediatel}' to Cambridge, and urgently advised that a reinforcement should be sent to Colonel Prescott's aid, and that his men should be supplied with suitable refreshment before the action should commence. His application for reinforce- Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 455 ments was unsuccessful. General Ward was strongly im- pressed with the idea that the British would land on Leche- mere's Point, or Inman's farm, in Cambridge, and make an assault upon the camp, and so cut off the rear of the party in Charlestown. He was the more convinced of this, as the scanty depots of ammunition and military stores on which the salvation of the American armj- depended were at Cambridge and Watertown, and in no way could the British gain so decided an advantage over them as by se- curing or destroying them. And this had been the direct object of all their active operations hitherto. It appears, also, that a formidable party in Greneral Gage's council of war, among whom were Generals Clinton and Grant, were urgently in favor of making an attack at this place. Ward, therefore, thought it unsafe to weaken his own force, as that would not only invite an attack, but render it difficult to repel it. On the same grounds he resisted the earnest solicitation of Putnam's troops to follow their commander to the battle, assuring them that theirs was the post of danger, and, consequently, of honor. . . . The cannonading from the British ships and floating batteries, though kept up incessantly during all the morn- ing, effected nothing. The Americans kept on steadily at their works, suffering more from hunger and fatigue than from the fire or the fear of the enemy. Putnam was very anxious to avail himself of the time required for the Brit- ish troops to pi'epare for engagement, to throw up another redoubt, according to the original plan, and in obedience to orders, on Bunker Hill. He accordingly, with a hand- ful of men, commenced an intrenchment on that summit, which, if it could have been completed so far as to afford a tolerable protection to his troops, would have enabled him to cheek the advance of the British and prevent them from occupying the redoubt on Breed's Hill. The two 456 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter summits were within gunshot of each other, the former, which was nearly thirty feet higher, having complete com- mand of the latter. [Little was done on this breastwork, the attack of the British making more urgent work for the men.] The veteran General Pomeroy, on hearing the distant roar of the artillery, borrowed a horse to carry him to the field. On approaching the neck, which was swept by a tre mendous firing from the British ships, he became alarmed, not for his own safety, but for that of the horse he had borrowed. He accordingly left his charger in charge of a sentinel, and coolly walked over, mounted the hill, and advanced to the rail fence. He was received with the highest exultation, and the name of Pomeroy rang through the line. [General Warren had previously made his way to the same point. Later, when it became evident that an assault would be made upon the works, General Ward sent reinforcements to Prescott.] The British van soon appeared in view. The Americans, eager to salute them, were with difficulty restrained from firing too soon. General Putnam rode along the line, giving strict orders that no one should fire till the enemy had arrived within eight rods, nor then, till the word of command should be given. " Powder is scarce," said he, " and must not be wasted. Do not fire at the enemj^ till you see the whites of their eyes; then fire low, — take aim at their waistbands, — aim at the handsome coats, — pick off the commanders." The same orders were given by Prescott, Pomeroy, Stark, and all the veteran officers. The effect of these orders was tremendous. "With a bold and confident front, assured of an easy victoi-y over the raw, undisciplined troops of the Provinces, the British Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 457 troops advanced to the fatal line, eight rods in advance of the defences, when a well-aimed volley from the deadly muskets within swept away the whole front rank, and laid many a gallant officer in the dust. Bank succeeded rank, and volley following volley mowed them down, till at length they were compelled to retreat. . . . Three times did the brave veterans of the British re- treat before the deadly fire of the American militia, with the loss of whole ranks of men and the very elite of their officers; and three times, in the face of this almost certain death, they returned to the charge. They had expected an easy victory, and promised themselves that at the first approach of a regular army the raw, undisciplined Ameri- cans would fly like frightened sheep. They now found, not less to their cost than to their surprise, that they had men to deal with, and that courage, daring, and the high- est heroism were less a matter of training than of prin- ciple. As Colonel Abercrombie led up his men to the charge, he was saluted by a familiar stentorian voice from the redoubt, reminding him, probably, of a reproachful epithet he had applied to his enemies: "Colonel Aber- crombie, are the Yankees cowards?" Hitherto the British had neglected the only manoeuvre by which they could possibly defeat their enemy, so long as their ammunition should last. This was to charge with the bayonet. The Americans were wholly unprovided with bayonets, and therefore could not resist nor with- stand a charge. But this the assailants did not know. They relied upon their fire, which was for the most part aimless and ineifectual, while every shot from the re- doubt, the breastwork, and the rail fence, being reserved and deliberate, found its victim. While these terrible scenes were enacting, several rein- forcements aiTived from Boston to the aid of the British, i.-u 39 458 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cutter till their whole number amounted to not less than eight thousand. To add new horroi's to the scene, vast columns of smoke were observed over Charlestown, and the village was seen to be on fire in several places. [The British had been annoyed by a fire from this place, and sent a detachment of men to burn it. While they were doing so, and seek- ing to gain the rear of the Americans under cover of the smoke, Putnam saw them, and opened on them with some cannon which liad been deserted.] The pieces were well aimed, General Putnam dismount- ing and pointing them himself, and every ball took effect. One canister was so well directed that it made a complete lane through the columns of the enemy, and threw them into momentary confusion. With wonderful courage, how- ever, they closed their ranks, and advanced again to the charge. The Americans, their cartridges being spent, re- sorted to their muskets, and, suffering their assailants to appi'oach still nearer than before, poured in a volley with such deliberate aim that the front rank was swept wholly away, and officers and men fell in promiscuous heaps. . . . In the midst of this thunder of artillery and rattling of musketry, the sulphurous smoke rolling up in heavj- volumes, and the balls whistling by on every side. Cap- tain Foster, of Colonel Mansfield's regiment, arrived with a supply of powder from the American camp. It was brought in casks in wagons, and distributed loose to the soldiers, as they were able to take it; some receiving it in their horns, some in their pockets, and some in their hats, or whatever else they had that would hold it. More than a thousand of the best of the British troops had now fallen befoi'e the murdei-ous fire of an enemy whom they affected to despise as peasants and rebels. Among these was a large number of their bravest and most accomplished officers. . . . Meanwhile, the Ameri- Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 459 cans, protected by their intrencbments, had suffered but little loss. But now the crisis was to come. Their am- munition was exhausted, and there was no alternative but to retreat. General Howe had learned, by a tex-rible ex- perience, that it was vain to think of frightening the "un- disciplined rebels" from their defences by the mere smell of gunpowder. With the advice of the accomplished and chivalrous General Clinton, who had just come to his aid, he commanded the works to be scaled and the enemy driven out at the point of the bayonet. He led the charge in person, as he had done befoi'e. General Clinton joined General Pigot, with a view to turn the right flank of the enemy. The artillery were ordered to advance at the same time, turn the left of the breastwork, and rake the line. This was the most vulnerable point in the American defences, and had hitherto been wholly overlooked. [Every possible preparation was made to meet this charge, but the powder of the Americans was exhausted.] They had sent in vain to the camp for a further supply. The magazine there was reduced to less than two barrels. The few who had a charge remaining reserved their last tire till the artillery, now advancing to turn the flank of their breastwork, had approached within the prescribed distance. Then every shot took effect. The gallant Howe, who had escaped unhurt hitherto, received one of the last of the American balls in his foot. The fire of the Americans gradually diminished, and then ceased. Instantly their muskets were clubbed, and the stones of their defences were seized and hurled at the advancing foe. This only served to betray their weakness, and infused a new energy into their assailants. No longer exposed to that destructive fire which had so fearfully thinned their ranks, they now marched forward, scaled 460 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cuttek the redoubt, and began the work of retribution. The ar- tillery, advancing at the same instant to the open space on the north, between the breastwork and the rail fence, enfiladed the line, and sent their balls through the open gate-way, or sally-port, directly into the redoubt, under cover of which the troops at the breastwork were com- pelled to retire. The heroic but diminutive Pigot was the first to scale the works. He was instantly followed by his men, now confident of an easy victor3^ Troops succeeded troops over the parapet, till that little arena, where the first great effort of American prowess was put forth, was filled with combatants, prepared to contest its possession. To contend, without a bayonet in his company, against such a superior force, would have been worse than mad- ness. Prescott saw this, and reluctantly ordered a retreat. He and Warren were the last to leave the redoubt. The latter seemed to disdain to fly, even when nothing else remained to him. With sullen reluctance he followed his countr3-men to the port, which he had scarcely passed when a ball from the enemy arrested him. Major Small [of the British arni}'], as a personal friend, . . . endeavored to save him. But AYarren would neither yield nor fly. He fell between the retreat and the pursuit, having won the respect of his enemies and the everlasting gratitude of his countrymen, and leaving his name as one of the watch- words of liberty throughout the world. . . . The retreating Americans were now between the two wings of the British armj^, so that they could not fire without endangering the lives of each other. A brave and orderly retreat was effected. . . . Putnam, though the balls fell around him like hail, was wholly insensible of danger. Coming to one of the deserted field-pieces, he dismounted, took his stand by its side, and seemed resolved Cutter] THE BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL. 461 to brave the foe alone. One sergeant alone dared to stand by him in this perilous position. He was soon shot down, and the general himself retired only when the British bayonets were close upon him and he was in imminent danger of being made a prisoner. . . . The Americans had retreated about twenty rods, before the enemy had time to rally. They were then suddenly exposed to a desti-uctive fire, which proved more fatal to them than all the previous contest. Some of the best and bravest men were left on this part of the field, and several oflScers, whose behavior that da}^ had given promise of the highest military distinction. The retreat was maintained in good order, over the JSTeck, to Prospect and Winter Hills, where they took up their position for the night, throwing up hasty intrenchments, which were soon strengthened and fortified, so as to present to the enemy another line of defence, equallj' formidable with that they had just pur chased at the expense of so much blood. [The story of the battle of Bunker Hill is so familiar to readers as ordinarily presented that we offer the above account as a picture of the same scene from a somewhat different point of view. Though Putnam was the superior in rank, Prescott was the actual commander. Yet Putnam's deeds upon the field were of sufficient interest to warraat our bringing him into the foreground of the picture. The result of this battle, though technically unfavorable to the Americans, was of the utmost importance as inspiring them to the determined prosecution of the war. The number of British regulars engaged, though not so great as above stated, was double that of the Americans, and the bravery of the latter in holding their imperfect works until their powder gave out, and until they had killed and wounded a number of the enemy nearly equal to their whole force engaged, gave a sufficient and satisfactory answer to the question which had been broached in England, "Will the Americans fight?"] 39* 462 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. ISAAC N. ARNOLD. [The battle of Bunker Hill was quickly followed by decided action on the part of Congress, then in session at Philadelphia. An address was made to the king and people of Great Britain, and the world was advised of the reason of the appeal to arms. " We are reduced," said they, " to the alternative of choosing an unconditional submission to the tyranny of irritated ministers, or resistance by force. The latter is our choice. We have counted the cost of this contest, and find noth- ing so dreadful as voluntarj'^ slavery." An army of twenty thousand men was ordered to be enlisted, and George Washington was elected commander-in-chief of all the colonial forces. Washington, who refused any compensation for his services, soon proceeded to Cambridge, where he undertook to organize the army there present. The task was a diificult one. The militia were undis- ciplined, insubordinate, and destitute of most of the requirements of an army. But by his energy and skill, and the assistance of General Gates, the men were reduced to discipline, stores collected, and a regular siege instituted. While this was being performed, the authority of the royal govern- ors everywhere ended in the colonies. The only one who made any effort to retain his power was Lord Dunmore, of Virginia. He seized a quantity of the public powder and placed it on board a vessel, but was forced to pay for it by an armed body of people, led by Patrick Henry. He then retired to a man-of-war, armed some vessels, and manned them with slaves to whom he promised freedom. He attacked the provincials near Norfolk, but sustained a severe defeat. In re- venge for this he soon after burned Norfolk to the ground. He then retired, and royal government ceased to exist in America. As the capture of Ticonderoga and Crown Point opened an easy gateway to Canada, it was determined to invade that province. This was done partly to anticipate the British, who appeared to design an invasion from that quarter, and partly with the belief that success would induce the Canadians to join the revolted colonies. A force under Generals Schuyler and Montgomery passed up Lake Champlain and besieged St. John's, the frontier post of Canada. During the Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAM PLAIN. 463 siege, Ethan Allen, with eighty men, rashly assailed Montreal. He was defeated, captured, and sent in irons to England. Schuyler having retired through illness, Montgomery captured St. John's on Novem- ber 3, and proceeded to Montreal, which surrendered on the 13th. Meanwhile, a force of one thousand men under General Benedict Arnold was marching north througli Maine. This march through the unbroken wilderness was one of estiaordinary difficulty and hardship. A part of the force turned back, and it was with but six hundred ex- hausted and half-starved men that Arnold reached Point Levi, op- posite Quebec, on November 13. Without delay he cro.ssed the St. Lawrence, ascended the heights which Wolfe had scaled before him, and marshalled his small force on the Plains of Abraham. As the garrison could not be induced to assail him, and as his force was too small to attempt to storm the walls, he retired, and awaited the arrival of Montgomery from Montreal. Their united forces numbered but nine hundred men, but with these, on the last day of* the year, they made an early morning attack on Quebec, in the midst of a driving snow-storm. At the very beginning of the assault Montgomery, with several of his officers, fell dead before the discharge of a cannon loaded with grape. Their men retreated in disorder, and the garrison turned against Arnold, who had entered the town. He received a ball in the leg, and was, almost by compulsion, removed from the field. The contest continued for several hours, but ended in the surrender of a portion of Arnold's force, while the re- mainder retired. Keinforcements being received, the siege of the city was kept up until the following May, when a British fleet ascended the St. Law- rence, and the Americans were forced to retreat. Step by step they were driven back, until obliged to evacuate Canada entirely. Carleton, the Canadian governor, soon followed, and both sides prepared to con- test the possession of Lake Champlain, building ships, and sailing to meet each other on that inland sea. As this was the first naval battle ever fought between England and America, and as it was contested by the Americans with consummate skill and courage, a detailed descrip- tion of it must prove of interest to readers. AVe select a fully-detailed narrative of the engagement from Isaac N. Arnold's " Life of Benedict Arnold."] Sir Guy Carleton early saw the importance of obtain- ing naval supremacy on these waters, that he might bring 464 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold the English troops to Ticonderoga, within convenient dis- tance of Albany, looking to a junction ultimately with the king's forces from the city of New York, and thereby sepa- rating and isolating New England from the other States. These lakes and their connections formed the most prac- ticable route by which the United States could be invaded from Canada; and both parties, in the summer of 1776. prepared vigorously to contest their control. Carleton, the British leader, had many advantages over Gates and Arnold in the race of preparation. He had con- tractors and ship-builders from England, and naval stores in abundance from the fleet in the St. Lawrence and from Quebec. The English admiralty contributed liberally in material for ship-building and in naval equipments. It sent out three vessels of war fully prepared for service ; more than two hundred flat-bottomed boats were built at Montreal and taken to St. John's ; and the larger vessels, unable to ascend the rapids, were taken to pieces and reconstructed at the last-mentioned place. One of these, the Inflexible, was a three-masted ship, carrying twenty twelve-pound guns and ten smaller guns. About seven hundred experienced sailors, and the very best of young naval ofiicers, were selected from the vessels of war and transports to man and command the lake fleet. The Americans had to cut from the forest every stick of timber for the additions to their small fleet. All their naval stores and material had to be brought from tide- water and the Atlantic, over roads nearly impassable. They lacked money, skilled ship-builders, naval stores, — everything; still, they were zealous, active, hopeful, and energetic. General Arnold, having some knowledge of ships, ship-building, and navigation, was selected to super- intend the construction of the fleet, and to command it when ready for service. . . . Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 465 He was constantly going to and fro, urging on tlie work, making requisition for mechanics, for seamen, for naval stores, for ordnance, for everything necessary to build, equip, arm, and man his little fleet. But no degi-ee of energy and activity could enable him to equal the arma- ment which Sir Guy Carleton could bring from the St. Lawrence to the theatre of conflict. . . . On the 1st of October, Arnold, writing to Gates, complains that the sea- men have not been sent, and hopes he shall be excused "if with five hundred men, half naked," he should not be able to beat the enemy in their overwhelming numbers and complete preparation. He sends for shot, musket- balls, buckshot, grenades, clothing, and " one hundred sea- men, — no landlubbers." Gates replies on the 3d, and sends what he can, but says, "What is not to be had, you and the princes of the earth must go unprovided with." . . . Gates gave to Arnold careful instructions, and, among other directions, said, " Should the enemy come up the lake and attempt to force their way through the pass you are stationed to defend, in that case you will act with such cool, determined valor as will give them reason to repent of their temerity." ifc ^ ^ ^l* *if 'i' "J-* •7" •T* 'T* •T' ^ 'f* ^ The time at which the desperate struggle for supremacy between the fleet of Arnold and that of Sir Guy Carleton approached, Schuj^ler, Gates, Washington, — all were con- scious of the great superiority of the British. All were anxious, but each indulged hope, arising mainly from the desperate valor of Arnold. Knowing his inferiority in ships, in weight of metal, and in men, Arnold avoided the possibility of an encounter on the open lake, where he might have been flanked or surrounded, by anchoring his fleet in a line between Yalcour Island and the western 466 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold shore. In this position, the rear being unapproachable, and his line extending across the channel, he could be at- tacked in front only. This was the first time an American fought a British fleet. . . . The British fleet consisted of the Inflexible, a large, three-masted ship, two schooners, the Lady Mary and the Carleton, a floating battery called the Thunderer, twenty gun-boats, besides long-boats and transports. " They had," says Bancroft, " more than twice his [Arnold's] w^eight of metal, and twice as many fighting-vessels,, and skilled sea- men and officers against landsmen." As has been stated, the British armed vessels were manned by about seven hundred selected seamen and well-trained gunners. Cap- tain Pringle, of the British navy, commanded, but Carle- ton was himself on board, and among the many young ofllcers was Edward Pellew, afterwards distinguished as Admiral Yiscount Exmouth. This fleet carried ninety- three guns, some of them of heavy calibre. The fleet of Arnold consisted of three schooners, two sloops, three galleys, and eight gondolas, carrying in all seventy guns. Early on the morning of the 11th of October, the guard- \)oats, stationed as sentinels, gave notice that the British fleet was approaching, and it soon appeared off Cumber- land Head, moving before a fair wind up the lake. Carle- ton came on, conscious of his greatly superior strength, with his battle-flags proudly flying, and when the fleet of Arnold was discovered, moored in the passage behina Valcour Island, Captain Pringle expressed his belief that they would not encounter much resistance, and he antici- pated an easy victor}^ ; but Carleton, remembering Quebec, knew that Arnold would fight to desperation. As the enemy approached, the Americans made ready to receive them. As they advanced around the southern point of Valcour Island and attempted to beat up towards the Arjtold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 467 channel in which the Americans had formed their hne of battle, the large ships fell behind. Arnold, who rarely waited to be attacked, determined to take advantage of the wind and attack the smaller vessels, which were in advance, before the large ones could beat up to their as- sistance. With the schooner Royal Savage, and three galleys, he went to meet the British, and opened a rapid fire, but was gradually pushed back by superior force, and attempting to return to the line, in beating back, the Royal Savage, with its inexperienced crew, went aground and was abandoned, — Arnold losing his baggage and all his papers, but the men were saved. At half-past twelve, the British having brought all their gun-boats and schooners within musket-shot of the Ameri- can line, the action became general, and from the shore of the mainland to the island the hostile fleets fired at close range. Arnold, in the Congress galley, to which he had gone after abandoning the Royal Savage, anchored in the hottest part of the fire, and here, with obstinate determina- tion, he held his position against all odds till five o'clock in the afternoon, when the enemy retired. During this long afternoon, a terrific cannonade of round- and grape- shot was continually kept up, and a constant blaze of rifles by a large body of Indians in the covers of the forest on the shores of the island and the mainland. But, as Arnold had taken the precaution to protect his men and his ships by fascines attached to the sides of the vessels, the rifles did little execution. So terrific was the cannonade that the roar of the heavy guns is said to have been heard at Crown Point. The Congress and the Washington galleys received the most injury. Arnold, in the former, which was armed with two eighteen-pounders, two twelves, and two sixes, fought with desperate heroism. In the absence of experienced gunners, he pointed most of the pieces him- 468 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold self, passing rapidly from gun to gun, and firing as fast as they could be loaded. The vessel received seven shots between wind and water, was hulled twelve times, the mainmast was wounded in two places, the rigging cut to pieces; yet, in this condition, and with dead and wounded all around him, he refused to yield or retreat, but hour after hour, for five hours, cheered on his men by word and example, until, as night approached, the British withdrew, retiring from an enemy commanded by a man who would never know that he was beat, and who would rather go down with flags flying than surrender. The Washington galley was nearly as badly shattered as the Congress, the first lieutenant killed, and the captain and master wounded. The New York lost all her oflScers ex- cept her captain. The Philadelphia was hulled in so many places that she sunk one hour after the engagement. The whole number of killed and wounded was about eighty. Never has there been exhibited a more striking illus- tration of Arnold's wonderful power of leadership and ability to inspire his men with heroic bravery, and power to make militia fight with unflinching courage, than on this occasion. As darkness fell over the scene of this terrible conflict, the British commander posted his fleet across the channel thi-ough which Arnold must pass to eff'ect his escape, with the expectation that in the morning, with his greatly su- perior force, he would capture the whole American flotilla. Arnold, however, determined to make an efli'ort to escape, and, if he failed, to destroy his shij)s, land his men, and fight his way through the Indians to Crown Point. . . . It was a hazy night, and a fair wind had sprung up from the north, and so, each vessel, putting out every light ex- cept a single signal-lantern in the stern, to guide the ship that followed, attempted to pass through the British lines. Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 469 As the darkness of the misty night gathered over the waters, the first vessel started, and in breathless silence one by one the whole flotilla glided through, between the hostile vessels, — Arnold in the Congress bi'inging up the rear, and, as usual, the last to leave, as he was ever the first to reach, the post of danger. They were undiscovered. It was skilfully, gallantly, admirably done; and now, with a fresh breeze, the crippled vessels bore away as rapidly as possible vip the lake. Using all possible expedition, the fleet reached Schuyler's Island, some twelve miles from the scene of the battle ; and here they were compelled to lay to, and stop the leaks in their vessels and repair damages. . . . Two of the gondolas were so badly injured that they had to be abandoned and sunk. In the afteimoon the remainder of the crippled flotilla again got under way ; but the wind gradually ceased, and soon a breeze sprung up from the south, retarding their advance, so that very little progress could be made by beating and rowing. The next morning, as the fog rose and the sun came out, the whole British fleet, with every sail set, was seen crowding down upon them. The crippled Congress, with Arnold on board, the Washington, and some gondolas, were in the rear. All the others, with every inch of canvas spread, and ui-ged to the utmost, were flying towards Crown Point. It was but a short time, however, before the enemy came up and opened fire on the Congress, the Washington, and the gondolas. After receiving a few broadsides, the Washington struck her colors ; but Arnold had no thought of surrender. He determined with the Congress and the crippled gondolas to fight the whole fleet of the enemy, and so retard their advance that the re- mainder of his vessels might make good their escape, — to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to their safety. He re- I. 40 470 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Arnold ceived the whole fire of the hostile fleet. A ship mount- ing twelve eighteen-pound guns, a schooner of fourteen six-pounders, and another of twelve sixes, two under her stern and one on her broadside, poured their concentrated fire of round- and grape-shot into the ah-eady disabled Congress. These vessels kept up an incessant fire for four hours upon this one ship, which Arnold returned as best he could. Thus the English fleet was delaj-ed, and the remainder of his own were making good their escape. The Congress was so disabled she could not fly, and Ar- nold would not surrender. Her sails, rigging, and hull were shattered and torn to fragments ; the lieutenant killed ; the crew, many of them, killed and wounded. Still her stern commander had no thought of striking his flag, and continued the contest, until still other vessels of the enemy arrived, and he found himself surrounded with seven sail, each pouring in upon the hapless Congress broadside after broadside; and still, in the openings of the enemy's sails, and of the smoke of their guns, which thickly enveloped him, his flag could be seen still flying. His ship was now a complete wreck, and, as he could fight no more, he managed to break through the vessels which surrounded him, and ran the Congress and the gon- dolas into a small creek ; and, ordering the marines to leap overboard and wade ashore with their small-arms, he then set fire to the ship and the gondolas, and, protected from the approach of small boats by the muskets of the marines, he lingered until the fire had extended too far to be extinguished, and then, his flag still flying, and order- ing all his men ashore, he himself the last to leave, leaped from the bowsprit to the beach, and both he and his men, escaping an Indian ambuscade by taking an unusual route, arrived in safety at Crown Point, and passed on to Ticon- deroga. Where has there been a braver fight ? Well may Arnold] ARNOLD ON LAKE CHAMPLAIN. 471 the sober Mr. Sparks, roused by the magnetism of such conduct, exclaim, '• There are few instances on record of more deliberate courage and gallantry than were displayed by him from beginning to end of this action." . . . " Such were the skill, bravery, and obstinate resistance of Arnold and his men against a vastly superior force : the event was hailed as ominous of great achievements when such fearful odds did not exist." [Lossing.] " General Arnold covered himself with glory, and his example appears to have been nobly followed by most of his officers and men. Even the enemy did justice to the resolution and skill with which the American flotilla was managed, the disparity of force rendering victory out of the question from the first. The manner in which the Congress was fought until she had covered the retreat of the galleys, and the stubborn resolution with which she was defended until destroyed, converted the disasters of this part of the day into a species of triumph." [Cooper's Naval History.] [The above article displays to a certain extent the special pleading of an ardent advocate of General Arnold ; yet that the battle was fought with striking bravery, and that Arnold was a man of unusual boldness and intrepidity, is undeniable. Had he been of smaller calibre his subsequent treason would have been of less importance. This action took place after the period fixed for the conclusion of the present volume, but, as it is a direct outcome of the preceding invasion of Canada, we give it here, as a fitting close to that episode. The con- trol of Lake Champlain, gained by it to the British, opened the way to events which were among the most important of the whole war.] 472 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsay THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. DAVID KAMSAY. [That the British army and its oflBcers permitted themselves to be cooped up for nearly a year in Boston, without an effort to hreak through the weak bonds that held them prisoners, was undoubtedly an important advantage to the American cause. For the patriot army of that day, though it had given a noble account of itself at Bunker Hill, was ill fitted in discipline, in arms, in condition, and in all military essentials, to cope with the thoroughly-trained and well- appointed British regulars had they made a determined aggressive movement. Washington, on reaching Boston, found himself provided with very poor material to face a disciplined force. The freedom and equality to which New-Englanders had long been accustomed made them highly intractable to military discipline, and democratically resistant to the aristocratic ideas and manner in which Washington had been trained. It was, therefore, with great difficulty, and with much bitterness of spirit on both sides, that the militia were brought into anything resembling discipline. An account of the operations of this army we select from Ramsay's " History of the American Revolution, " a valuable old work, written but a few years after the Revolution had ended.] As the year 1775 drew to a close, the friends of Congress were embarrassed with a new difficulty. Their army was temporary, and only engaged to serve out the year. The object for which they had taken up arms was not yet obtained. Every reason which had previously induced the provinces to embody a military force still existed, and with increasing weight. It was therefore resolved to form a new army. The same flattering hopes were in- dulged, that an army for the ensuing year would answer every purpose. ... It was presumed that the spirit which had hitherto operated on the yeomanry of the countr}' would induce most of the same individuals to engage for EAMSA-k] THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 4^,-^ another twelvemonth ; but on experiment it was found that much of their militarj' ardor had already evaporated. The first impulse of passion and the novelty of the scene bad brought man}' to the field who had great objections against continuing in the military line. They found that to be soldiers required sacrifices of which when they as- sumed that character they had no idea. So unacquainted were the bulk of the people with the mode of carrying on modern war that many of them flew to arms with the delusive expectation of settling the whole dispute by a few decisive and immediate engagements. Experience soon taught them that to risk life in open fighting was but a part of the soldier's duty. Several of the inferior oflicers retired ; the men frequently refused to enlist unless they were allowed to choose their officers. Others would not engage unless they were indulged with furloughs. Fifty would aj)ply together for leave of absence. Indul- gence threatened less ruinous consequences than a refusal would probably have produced. On the whole, enlist- ments went on slowly. ... So many difficulties retarded the recruiting service that on the last day of the year 1775 the whole American army amounted to no more than nine thousand six hundred and fifty men. Of the re- markable events with which this important year was replete, it was not the least that within musket-shot of twenty British regiments one army was disbanded and another enlisted. All this time the British troops at Boston were suff'ering the inconvenience of a blockade. From the 19th of April they were cut off" from those refreshments which their situation required. Their supplies from Britain did not reach the coast for a long time after they were expected. Several were taken by the American cruisers, and others were lost at sea. This was in particular the fate of many I. 40* 474 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ramsay of their coal-ships. The want of fuel was particularly felt in a climate where the winter is both sevei'e and tedious. They relieved themselves in part from their sufferings on this account by the timber of houses which they pulled down and burnt. Vessels w^ere despatched to the West Indies to jDrocure provisions ; but the islands were so straitened that they could afford but little assistance. Armed ships and transports were ordered to Geo'gia with an intent to procure rice; but the people of that province, with the aid of a party from South Carolina, so effectually disposed of them that of eleven vessels only two got off safe with their cargoes. It was not till the stock of the garrison was nearly exhausted, that the transports from England entered the port of Boston and relieved the dis- tresses of the garrison. While the troops within the lines were apprehensive of suffering from want of provisions, the troops without were equally uneasy for want of employment. Used to labor and motion on their farms, they but illy relished the in- activity and confinement of a camp life. Fiery spirits declaimed in favor of an assault. They jDreferred a bold spirit of enterprise, to that passive fortitude which bears u^ under present evils while it waits for favorable junc- tures. To be in readiness for an attempt of this kind, a council of war recommended to call in seven thousand two hundred and eighty militia-men from New Hampshire or Connecticut. This number, added to the regular arm}' before Boston, would have made an operating force of about seventeen thousand men. The provincials labored under great inconveniences from the want of arms and ammunition. Yery early in the contest, the King of Great Britain, bj^ proclamation, for- bade the exportation of warlike stores to the colonies. Great exertions had been made to manufacture saltpetre Kamsay] the siege OF BOSTON. 475 and gunpowder, but the supply was slow" and inadequate. A secret committee of Congress bad been appointed, with ample powers to lay in a stock of this necessary article. Some swift-sailing vessels had been despatched to the coast of Africa to purchase what could be procured in that dis- tant region ; a party from Charleston forcibly took about seventeen thousand pounds of powder from a vessel near the bar of St. Augustine ; some time after, Commodore Hopkins stripped Providence, one of the Bahama Islands, of a quantity of artillery and stoi'es ; but the whole, pro- cured from all these quarters, was far short of a sufficiency. In order to supply the new army before Boston with the necessary means of defence, an application was made to Massachusetts for arms, but on examination it was found that their public stores afforded only two hundred. Orders were issued to purchase firelocks from private persons, but few had any to sell, and fewer would part with them. In the month of Febi-uary there were two thousand of the American infantry who were destitute of arms. Powder was equally scai'ce ; and yet daily appHcations were made for dividends of the small quantity which was on hand for the defence of the various parts threatened with in- vasion. The eastern colonies presented an unusual sight. A powerful enemy safely intrenched in their first city, while a fleet was ready to transport them to any part of the coast. A numerous body of husbandmen was resolutely bent on opposition, but without the necessary arms and ammunition for self-defence. The eyes of all were fixed on General Washington, and from him it was unreasonably expected that he would by a bold exertion free the town of Boston from the British troops. The dangerous situa- tion of public affairs led him to conceal the real scai-city of arms and ammunition, and, with that magnanimity 476 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsat which is characteristic of great minds, to suffer his char- acter to be assailed rather than vindicate himself b}' ex- posing his many wants. There were not wanting persons who, judging from the superior number of men in the American arm}-, boldly asserted that if the commander-in- chief was not desirous of prolonging his importance at the head of an army, he might by a vigorous exertion gain possession of Boston. Such suggestions were reported and believed by several, while they were uncontradicted by the general, who chose to risk his fame rather than expose his army and his countr}-. Agreeably to the request of the council of wai", about seven thousand of the militia had rendezvoused in Febru- ary. General Washington stated to his officers that the troops in camp, togetlier with the reinforcements which had been called for and were daily coming in, would amount to nearly seventeen thousand men, — that he had not powder sufficient for a bombardment, and asked their advice whether, as reinforcements might be daily expected to the enemy, it would not be prudent, before that event took place, to make an assault on the British lines. The proposition was negatived; but it was recommended to take possession of Dorchester Heights. To conceal this design, and to divert the attention of the gai*rison, a bom- bardment of the town from other directions commenced, and was carried on for three days with as mvich briskness as a deficient stock of powder would admit. In this first essay, three of the mortars were broken, either from a de- fect in their construction, or, more probably, from igno- rance of the proper mode of using them. The night of the 4th of March was fixed upon for taking possession of Dorchester Heights. A covering party of about eight hundred led the way. These were followed by the carts with the intrenching tools, and twelve hun- RamsayJ the siege OF BOSTON. -477 dred of a working-party, commanded by General Thomas. In the rear there were more than two hundred carts loaded with fascines and hay in bundles. While the cannon were playing in other parts, the greatest silence was kept by this working-party. The active zeal of the industrious provincials completed lines of defence by the morning which astonished the garrison. The difference between Dorchester Heights on the evening of the 4th and the morning; of the 5th seemed to realize the tales of i^omance. The admiral informed General Howe that if the Amei-i- cans kept possession of these heights he would not be able to keep one of his majesty's ships in the harbor. It was therefore determined in a council of war to attempt to dis- lodge them. An engagement was hourly expected. It was intended by General Washington, in that case, to force his way into Boston with four thousand men, who were to have embarked at the mouth of Cambridge River. The militia had come forward with great alertness, each bring- ing three days' provision, in expectation of an immediate assault. The men were in high spirits and impatiently waiting for the appeal. They were reminded that it was the 5th of March, and were called upon to avenge the death of their countiy- men killed on that day. The many eminences in and near Boston which overlooked the gi-ound on which it was expected that the contending parties would engage were crowded with numerous spectators. But General Howe did not intend to attack till the next day. In order to be ready for it, the transports went down in the evening towards the castle. In the night a most violent storm, and towards morning a heavy flood of rain, came on. A carnage was thus providentially prevented that would probably have equalled, if not exceeded, the fatal 17th of June at Bunker's Hill. In this situation it was agreed by 478 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Kamsay the British, in a council of war, to evacuate the town as soon as possible. [Their enforced delay had permitted "Washington so to strengthen his works as to render an assault on them too dangerovis to be attempted.] In a few days after a flag came out of Boston, with a paper signed by four selectmen, informing, "that they had applied to General Eobertson, who, on an application to General Howe, was authorized to assure them that he had no intention of burning the town, unless the troops under his command were •molested during their embarka- tion, or at their departure, by the armed force without." When this paper was presented to General Washington, he replied, " that as it was an unauthenticated paper, and without an address, and not obligatory on General Howe, he could take no notice of it;" but at the same time inti- mated his good wishes for the security of the town. A proclamation was issued by General Howe, ordering all woollen and linen goods to be delivered to Crean Brush, Esq. Shops were opened and stripped of their goods. A licentious plundering took place. Much was carried off, and more was wantonly destroyed. These irregularities were forbidden in orders, and the guilty threatened with death ; but nevertheless every mischief which disappointed malice could suggest was committed. The British, amounting to more than seven thousand men, evacuated Boston, leaving their barracks standing, and also a number of cannon spiked, four large iron sea- mortars, and stores to the value of thirty thousand pounds. They demolished the castle, and knocked off the trunnions of the cannon. Various incidents cau.sed a delay of nine days after the evacuation, before they left Nantasket road. This embarkation was attended with many circura Kamsat] the siege OF BOSTON. 479 stances of distress and embarrassment. On the departure of the royal army from Boston, a great number of the in- habitants attached to their sovereign, and afraid of pubHc resentment, chose to abandon their country. From the great multitude about to depart, there was no possibility of procuring purchasers for their furniture, neither was there a sufficiency of vessels for its convenient transpor- tation. Mutual jealousy subsisted between the army and navy, each charging the other as the cause of some part of their common distress. The ai*my was full of discon- tent. Eeinforcements, though long promised, had not ar- rived. Both officers and soldiers thought themselves neglected. Five months had elapsed since they had re- ceived any advice of their destination. Wants and incon- veniences increased their ill humor. Their intended voyage to Halifax subjected them to great dangers. The coast, at all times hazardous, was eminently so at that tempestuous equinoctial season. The}- had reason to fear they would be blown off to the West Indies, and without a sufficient stock of provisions. They were also going to a barren country. To add to their difficulties, this dangerous voyage, when completed, was directly so much out of their way. Their business la}^ to the southward, and they were going northward. Under all these difficulties, and with all these gloomy prospects, the fleet steered for Halifax. Contrary to appearances, the voyage thither was both short and prosperous. They remained there for some time, waiting for reinforcements and instructions from England. When the royal fleet and army departed from Boston, several ships were left behind for the protection of vessels coming from England, but the American privateers were so alert that they nevertheless made many prizes. Some of the vessels which they captured were laden with arms and warlike stores. Some transports, with troops on 480 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier board, were also taken. These had run into the harbor, not knowing that the place was evacuated. The boats employed in the embarkation of the British troops had scarcely completed their business when General Washington, with his army, marched into Boston. He was received with marks of approbation more flattering than the pomps of a triumph. The inhabitants, released from the severities of a garrison life, and from the various indignities to which they were subjected, hailed him as their deliverer. Eeciprocal congratulations between those who had been confined within the British lines, and those who were excluded from entering them, were exchanged with an ardor which cannot be described. General "Wash- ington was honored by Congress with a vote of thanks. They also ordered a medal to be struck, with suitable devices, to perpetuate the remembrance of the gi'eat event. The Massachusetts council and house of representatives complimented him in a joint address, in which they ex- pressed their good wishes in the following words: "May you still go on approved by Heaven, revered by all good men, and dreaded by those tyrants who claim their fellow- men as their property." THE CONTINENTAL CONGRESS AND ITS DOINGS. EDMUND OLLIER. [While the people of the American colonies were so bitterly resist- ing Parliamentary oppression, their representatives in the Continental Congress were feeling their way, by slow and cautious steps, towards that decisive measure, the declaration of American independence. Their action was as important as that of the soldiery who were fighting Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 481 for liberty in the field, and a condensed statement of it is here requisite. We extract some illustrative notes of the doings of the successive American Congresses, from 1774 to 1776, from Edmund Ollier's "His- tory of the United States," an impartially-written work by an English author.] Monday, the 5th of September, 1774, was a great and important day in the annals of English America. It was the day on which the Congress of the United Provinces met in solemn session at Philadelphia. The members de- puted by the several colonies had been arriving for some days, and they greeted one another with enthusiasm as the vanguard of liberty in the young Western world. . . . The representatives of the provinces were resolved to dis- cuss their wrongs in a freely-elected Parliament of their own. They were in no mood to pay homage either to the English throne or to the English legislature, and they set to work without delay to organize a chamber for the effi- cient consideration of every subject bearing on the political well-being of their widely-separated, but still in some re- spects homogeneous, communities. The first meeting took place in a tavern, and it was determined to accept the offer of the carpenters of Philadelphia, who placed their spacious hall at the disposal of the delegates. The number of mem- bers was at least fifty-five, including such men as George Washington, Samuel and John Adams, Patrick Henry, Eichard" Henry Lee, and others of high repute, if not of equal renown ; and the colonies represented were eleven. . . . The resolution with respect to the voting power of each colony was arrived at on the second day of the meet- ing, when Patrick Henry, speaking on behalf of Virginia, drew forth in long array the many injuries inflicted on America by the action of the English Parliament. His speech was the first utterance of the Congress after its organization. . . . The magnificent oratory of Patrick I— V J 41 482 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier Henrj" breathed, or rather flashed, a spirit of life into the dead assemblage [which had before sat in embarrassed silence]. . . . British oppression, he said, had made one nation of the several colonies, so that he no longer con- sidered himself a Virginian, but an American. Many con- tradictory opinions were expressed ; but in the end the matter was settled in the way indicated by Henry [namely, to consider the colonies as a federation of independent States, with democratical representation, each State to have a voice in accordance with the numbers of its popu- lation]. , . . The Continental Congress sat eight weeks. On the 26th of October it was dissolved, after having recommended the appointment of a similar assembly, to meet on the 10th of May following unless a redress of grievances had been obtained ere then; and, to further the creation of this second Congress, it was recommended that all the colonies should elect deputies as soon as possible. Thus ended a most important exj^eriment in American legislation. That experiment must be i-egai'ded as one of the great turning- points in the history of the United States. The assembling of a Congress representing most of the colonies was a plain assertion of national existence, and foreshadowed the nature of that independent government which was clearly coming on. The scattered forces of Anglo-American life were concentrated in a great assembly which embodied the will of many distinct communities. The old divisions and jealousies were to some extent healed ; a country was slowly forming itself out of the chaos of discordant settle- ments. . . . As Patrick Henry observed, the oppression of the English government had effaced the boundaries of the several States, and a common pressure on the freedom and well-being of all had compacted the diffused and straggling life of the colonies into an intense and indivisible force. Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 483 The debates in Congress had proved, on a grander scale than had j-et been seen, that the Americans possessed a large amount of debating power, and the genius of states- manship in no stinted measure. Chatham himself — an authority not easily to be surpassed — declared that the delegates assembled at Philadelphia were, in solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of conduct, second to no human assembly of which history has preserved the memorial. Sweeping and facile statements of this char- acter were very much in the taste of the eighteenth century, but in this particular instance the compliment involved no great exaggeration. [Yet the petition of the Congress to the king, presented by Franklin and the agents of Massachusetts, proved futile. " The king remained lirm in his policy of simple and unrelieved coercion." Efforts were made in favor of conciliatory measures, but George III. was not to be moved from his resolve to force the colonists into submission to his will. The proposition to remove the troops was negatived, reinforce- ments were ordered, and General Gage was subsequently invested with almost dictatorial powers. In the Congress of 1775, which met after the war had actually broken out, much timidity was displayed, though many of the bold spirits of the preceding Congress were present.] Franklin, who was by this time back at Philadelphia, was again directing his attention to the more effective confederation of the colonies. Eeverting in some meas- ure to his Albany scheme of 1754, he submitted to Con- gress a plan for uniting the colonies in one nation. Each colony was to have its own Parliament, and the right to amend its own laws and constitution whenever it pleased ; and the Federal government was to attend to affairs of national importance, and to govern the waste lands. Con- gress was to consist of but one legislative body, to be chosen annually, and one of its committees was to wield the executive power. . . - Some members of Congress, 484 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier however, were far in advance of the collective sentiment. John Adams, in particular, was for at once establishing a constitution and a general government. . . . When Con- gress adjourned on the 1st of August, nothing had been settled in principle ; yet a great many steps had been taken which made it all the less likely that the quarrel would be compromised, — all the more probable that a violent separation would take place. . . . The Continental Congress reassembled on the 13th of September ; but the spirit of hesitation which had per- plexed its counsels before still continued in an unabated degree. Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, exercised a great influence over the deliberations of the Federal body, and his love of moderation was carried, in the opinion of the more extreme, to the point of timidity. . . . The king's proclamation, denouncing the American mal- contents as rebels, and requiring all loyal subjects to trans- mit information of traitorous designs to one of the secre- taries of state, reached the New World a few weeks after its jjublication in England, which was on the 23d of Au- gust. It was received in New Eno-land with ano-er and derision, and deepened the resolve of all the popular leaders to declare the independence of the country. . . . It was the 1st of November when the proclamation became known to the Continental Congress at Philadel- phia. Abandoning their mood of hesitation, the delegates now resolved to act on the petitions of those provinces which desired to institute governments of their own. Wentworth, the governor of New Hampshire, having left his post, the people of that colony requested of Congress that they might be allowed to provide for the administra- tion of their afi'airs, which had fallen into extreme dis- order ; and the prayer was granted. South Carolina was permitted to act in the same way. In both cases, the Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 4S5 new governments were to exist only during the continu- ance of the dispute between Great Britain and her Ameri- can possessions ; but it must by this time have been almost universally perceived that the approaching struggle could eventuate in nothing but the entire independence of America or its complete subjugation. [The Pennsylvania Assembly still preserved an attitude of loyalty to the king. Delaware, New Jersey, and Maryland followed the ex- ample of Pennsylvania. In New York much loyalty was professed. The strong seats of rebellious sentiment were New England and Vir- ginia, and some of the more southern provinces. Franklin, who had broken with the Pennsylvania Assembly and declined to take the seat to which he had been elected, now stimulated Thomas Paine, who had come to America at his suggestion, to the writing of those vigorous democratic pamphlets which did so much towards inspiring the people with patriotic sentiments.] . As the Pennsylvania legislature hesitated, the Conti- nental Congress grew more determined and resolute. It empowered a secret committee to import gunpowder, field-pieces, and small-arms, and to export provisions and produce to the foreign West Indies in exchange for these materials of war. It adopted rules for the government of the American navy, which as yet had scarcel}' an ex- istence except in design ; directed the enlistment of two battalions of marines; authorized the colonists to seize all ships employed as carriers for the British fleet or army; and sanctioned tribunals for the confiscation of their car- goes. It was proposed by a Maryland delegate — who cer- tainly went far beyond the feeling generally prevalent in his province — that envoys should be sent to France, with conditional instructions ; but the motion was rejected. Nevertheless Harrison, Franklin, Johnson, Dickinson, and Jay were appointed a secret committee for corresponding with any persons in Great Britain, Ireland, and other I. 41* ^86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier parts of the world, who might be favorable to the Ameri- can cause ; and funds were appropriated for the payment of agents. These were all acts practically establishing an independent government, though the absolute declaration of independence was still delayed. The leaders of the popular party had already declared that the people are the source and oi-igin of power; and this docti'ine grew in favor with all who supported colonial rights. . . . In December the Continental Congress determined to build thirteen ships of war and to establish a naval depart- ment. . . . This was another and very important step towards the creation of a national government totally dis- tinct from that of the parent state. Still another was the opening of negotiations with foreign powers. . . . Towards the end of the year, De Bonvouloir, the emissary of Ver- gennes [of France], arrived in Philadelphia, and had sev- eral conferences with Franklin and the other members of the secret committee. The I'csult of these interviews was that the Frenchman gave the committee to understand, without making an exact promise to that effect, that his king would aid them on certain conditions ; and that the committee made it very clear to the Frenchman that they would be glad of such aid in the furtherance of their de- signs, though they still kept up the farce of pretending that they were even yet indisposed to sever their connec- tion with England and with the English crown. . . . By the 1st of January, 1776, Washington had, by ex- traordinary exertions, got together a new Continental army in front of Boston, — an army of less than ten thou- sand men, ill appointed, and not well disciplined. . . . With the new year an emblematical banner was unfurled over the troops. It displayed thirteen alternate red and white stripes (indicative of the thirteen united colonies), and in the corner the red and white crosses of St. George Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 487 and St. Andrew on a blue ground. The desire for com- plete independence was expressed with a more undisguised frankness, and Washington openly declared his opinion that it was a necessity of the time. [This feeling was strongly aided by Thomas Paine's treatise, named " Common Sense" by Dr. Rush of Philadelphia, and expressing in clear and forcible statement the most radical democratic opinions.] However disputable some of Paine's arguments may have been, they were admirably calculated to produce a powerful effect in America, and to influence in the desired direction many who might still be inclined, from whatever cause, to hang back. Some, however, were a little alarmed at the boldness of the proposals, and Wilson, of Pennsyl- vania, moved in Congress for the appointment of a com- mittee to explain to their constituents and to the world the present intentions of the colonial representatives re- specting independence. In opposition to this suggestion, Samuel Adams insisted that Congress had already been explicit enough ; but Wilson carried his motion. . . . Con- gi'ess was timid about taking so extreme a step as a decla- ration of independence, but was none the less advancing cautiously towards that end. . . . The state of war was perfect; independence was all but complete. The United Colonies wanted but little to convert them into the United States. [Meanwhile, France and Spain, while avowedly friendly to Eng- land, covertly wished to injure her, and appropriated a sum of money amounting to nearly a million dollars for the purchase of military stores to be secretly transmitted to America. Turgot, the French min- ister of finance, advocated entire freedom of trade, and this suggestion was taken up by Congress and debated on the 16th of February. On the 6th of April it was resolved " that the commerce of the thirteen United Colonies should be thrown open to all nations, excepting the subjects of Great Britain. Henceforth there were to be no custom- 488 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier houses ; exports and imports were to be alike free from all restrictions and from all taxation." Commissioners were sent to Canada, to endeavor to bring that prov- ince into union of sentiment with the other colonies, — an eifort which failed through the failure of the invading army. Privateering was authorized, and quickly became active. The king was described in a Congressional resolution as having " rejected their petitions with scorn and contempt." Among other acts, it was resolved that thereafter no slaves should be imported into the United Colonies.] Independence was close at hand ; but a further period of doubt, of hesitation, and of distracted counsels had yet to be passed through. During the debate on the proposal to authorize privateering, Franklin had openly avowed his opinion that the measure ought to be preceded by a decla- ration of war against Great Britain as a foreign power. But to the majority this seemed to be moving too fast, thougl\ only a small number of enthusiasts continued to believe in the possibility of the old political conditions being restored. . . . Samuel Adams, in particular, de- nounced the policy of delay. "Is not America," he asked in Congress, "already independent? Why not, then, de- clare it ?" No foreign power, he argued, could consistently yield comfort to rebels, or enter into any kind of treaty with the insurgent colonies, until they had separated themselves from Great Britain. ... It was with perfect truth that Samuel Adams spoke of America as practically independent. To throw off its allegiance in terms was the most honest, and probably by this time the most politic, course which the colonists could pursue. [The Southern colonies had now become as extreme in their viewss as the Northern. South Carolina adopted its famous rattlesnake flag, ordered Sullivan's Island to be fortified, and on March 21 adopted a constitution which created two legislative bodies and the other essen- tials of government. John Rutledge delivered vigorously-radical ad- dresses. North Carolina went still further, and on the 12ih of April Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 489 empowered her representatives to vote for imlopendence. South Caro- lina followed this lead on the 23d of April, Chief-Justice Drayton de- claring that the government of the province was independent of that of Great Britain. Ehode Island, on the 4th of May, passed an act freeing its people from allegiance to the king. John Adams's resolu- tion, offered a year before, to empower any of the colonies to create a constitution for itself, was passed on the 10th of May. On the 6th of this month the House of Burgesses of Virginia declared that their an- cient constitution had been subverted, and dissolved the Assembly. It was immediately succeeded by a convention which declared that Vir- ginia had no alternative left but an abject submission or a complete separation. The country was therefore, from that time forward, to govern itself, form foreign alliances, and promote a confederation of the colonies. Patrick Henry, James Madison, and George Mason were the leading members of a committee appointed to prepare a decla- ration of rights and a plan of government. Of the act introduced by this committee, and passed, we give the leading sentiments.] "All men are by nature equally free, and have inherent rights, of which, when they enter into a state of society, they cannot, by any compact, deprive or divest their pos- terity : namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pur- suing and obtaining happiness and safety. All power is vested in, and consequently derived from, the people; magistrates are their trustees and servants, and at all times amenable to them. Government is, or ought to be, instituted for the common benefit and securit}^ of the people, nation, or community ; and whenever anj' govern- ment shall be found inadequate or contrary to these pur- poses, a majority of the community hath an indul)itable, inalienable, and indefeasible right to reform, alter, or abohsh it, in such a manner as shall be judged most con- ducive to the common weal. Public services not being de- scendible, neither ought the offices of magistrate, legislator, or judge to be hereditary. . . . All men having sufficient evidence of permanent common interest with, or attach- 490 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Olliep. ment to, the commuiiit}', have the right of suffrage, and cannot be taxed or deprived of their property for public uses without their own consent or that of their representa- tives so elected, nor bound by any law to which they have not in like manner assented for the public good. . . . No man ought to be deprived of liber t}-, except by the law of the land or the judgment of his peers ; and the ancient trial by jury ought to be held sacred. ... A well-regulated militia, composed of the body of the people, trained to anus, is the proper, natural, and safe defence of a free state; standing armies in times of peace should be avoided as dangerous to libei-ty ; and in all cases the military should be under strict subordination to the civil power. . . . No free government can be preserved but hy a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, frugalit}', and virtue, and by frequent recurrence to fundamental principles. Ee- ligion can be directed only by reason and conviction, not by force or violence ; and, therefore, all men are equally entitled to the free exercise of it, according to the dic- tates of conscience ; and it is the natural duty of all to practise Christian forbearance, love, and charity towards each other." [This important declaration of principles, with John Adams's resolu- tion tending to a separation from Great Britain, had a powerful effect on the Pennsylvania Assembly, which receded from its position of loyalty to the crown and on the 6th of June sent more liberal instruc- tions to its delegates in Congress.] On the very next day, Eichard Henry Lee, of Yirginia, in the name and with the special authority of that prov- ince, submitted to Congress a set of resolutions afiirming that the United Colonies were, and of right ought to be, free and independent states ; that they were absolved from all allegiance to the British crown; that all political con- nection between them and Great Britain was, and ought Olliek] the continental CONGRESS. 491 to be, totally dissolved ; that it was expedient forthwith to take the most effectual measures for forming foreign alliances ; and that a plan of confederation should be pre- pared, and transmitted to the respective colonies for their consideration and approbation. The questions then raised were first considered on the 8th. Tlie speeches were re- sumed on the 10th, and it was then resolved, after further discussion, to postpone the debate for three weeks, and in the mean time to appoint a committee which should draw up a declaration in harmony with what had been proposed. [Virginia followed her declaration of principles by the formation of a constitution, which was a virtual declaration of independence. Con- necticut and Delaware quickly followed, and New Hampshire, on June 15, resolved that the Thirteen United Colonies should be declared a free and independent state. Massachusetts declared in favor of com- plete separation from Great Britain. New York required more caution, on account of the approach of the British fleet, yet it, too, declared for separation. Somewhat similar action was taken in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland.] All these local movements prepared the way for the great act of the Continental Congress which was to make the 4th of July, 1776, one of the most memorable dates in the history of the world. . . . The question of declaring the complete independence of the colonies [moved by Richard Henry Lee] was resumed on the 1st of July, when about fifty-one delegates appeared in their places. By this time the opinion in favor of separation was nearly unan- imous. . . . Before the great business of the day came on, a letter was read from Washington, giving a very bad account of his forces at New York. The accumulated dis- asters of the invading army in Canada were also known ; and news had been received of the threatening movement of Parker and Clinton against Charleston, but not of its defeat. The prospects of the infant republic, whose birth 492 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier was about to be formally announced to the world, were, therefore, far from encouraging ; yet the ftiith of those daring statesmen in the force and vitality of their idea was sufficient to triumph over all discouragements and all advei'se fortunes. [The first speaker was John Adams, who had seconded Lee's resolu- tion, and who recapitulated the arguments in favor of a declaration of independence. He was replied to by Dickinson, of Pennsylvania, who, though patriotic, thought the movement injudicious. A long and im- passioned debate followed, after which action was postponed till the following day. On putting the resolution to vote, it was passed by a majority of the delegates of all the colonies, with the exception of New York, which had lacked time to express its wishes. The sanc- tion of New York was given a week afterwards.] John Adams, writing to his wife at Boston, on the 3d of July, to communicate to her the grand event in which he had acted so important a part, hailed that second day of July, 1776, as the most memorable epoch in the history of America. " I am apt to believe," he said, " that it will be celebrated by succeeding generations as the great an- niversary festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade, with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward, for evermore. You will think me transported by enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure that it will cost us to maintain this declaration and support and defend these states. Yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end is more than worth all the means, and that posterity will triumph in that day's transaction, even though we should rue it, which I trust in God we shall not." . . . READING THE DECLARATION TO THE PEOPLE. Ollier] the continental CONGRESS. 493 The committee for drawing up the Declaration of Inde- pendence had intrusted that task to Thomas Jefferson, who, though at that time only thirty-three years of age, — between seven and eight years younger than John Adams, and a mere juvenile as compared with Franklin, both of whom were on the committee, — was chosen for a work of great difficulty and importance, because he was held to possess a singular felicity in the expression of popular ideas (as evinced in j^revious state papers), and because he represented the province of Virginia, the oldest of the Anglo-American colonies. Jefferson, having pro- duced the required document, reported it to the House on the 28th of June, when it was read, and ordered to lie on the table. After the conclusion of the debate on the reso- lution of independence on the 2d of July, the Declaration was passed under review. During the remainder of that day and the two next, this remarkable production was very closely considered and sifted, and several alterations were made in it. [Several changes had been made in the original draft by the com- mittee, though just what they were is not known. The principal changes made by Congress were the omission of those sentences which reflected upon the English people, and the striking out of a clause which severely reprobated the slave-trade.] The debate on the proposed Declaration came to a tei'- mination on the evening of the 4th of July. The docu- ment was then reported by the committee, agreed to by the House, and signed by every member present, except Dickinson. [The signature of New York was not given till several days later, and a New Hampshire member, Matthew Thornton, was permitted to append his signature on November 4, four months after the signing.] It will not at this day be denied by many, even on the I 42 494 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Ollier English side of the Atlantic, that the Declaration was a work of great power, that it had a large basis of truth, that it appealed; in noble and strenuous language, to the very highest principles of political right and virtue. Its crowning glory is that it did this in no Utopian spirit, in no mood of wild and vindictive change, but with decorum, with dignity, with tenderness, and with sense. English- men, who regret the quarrel out of which this supreme act of renunciation arose, may yet reflect, with a just sat- isfaction and no ungenerous pride, that the root of all these principles is to be found in the traditions of a thousand years of English political life. Jefferson did but apply to novel circumstances the general ideas of popular freedom which had long been illustrated in the old country. George III. had endeavored to introduce into the administration of affairs a species of G-erman absolutism, distasteful alike to Englishmen at home and to their descendants in Amer- ica. The Declaration of Independence was the final reply of Americans to the ill-judged and ignorant attempt. Its effect on Europe was immense. It helped, in a very con- siderable degree, to make the French Eevolution ; it even influenced England. Doubtless it is an exaggeration to say that, but for the success of the Americans, England would have been enslaved. . . . But the example of America strengthened the liberal party in the mother- country, and guaranteed the certainty of reform. This is why the great production of Jefferson should have as much interest for English as for American minds. . . . Undoubtedly, no more important act has ever been per- formed. From that day forward — from that memorable 4th of July, 1776 — the Eepublic of English America as- sumed a distinct and tangible existence. The United Col- onies became the United States. George III. was formally deposed in thirteen provinces of his empire, and some Lawrence] AMERICA IIV 1776. 495 millions of his subjects became foreigners. A new chapter in the annals of the human race had been opened, and it was as yet too early .to forecast with any certainty whether that chapter was to be mainly characterized bj- weal or woe. AMERICA IN 1776. EUGENE LAWRENCE. [Before completing our historical review of the colonial period of America, a description of the general condition of the colonies at the close of this era will be of interest, as indicative of the work in nation- making which had been achieved within the less than two centuries since the settlement of the British colonies. We select from Harper & Brothers' "First Century of the Republic" some passages from Eugene Lawrence's ably-written paper on " Colonial Progress."] Fifty-one doubtful and divided men, of infinite variety in opinions, education, and character, met in the hot days of July. 1776, in that plain room at Philadelphia whei-e was decided the chief event of modern history, to found a republic. They were about to reverse all the inculcations of recent experience, and to enter at once upon a new era of uncertainty. From all the models of the past they could borrow little, and they ovei'leaped barriers that had affrighted all former legislators. ISTot Cromwell and Hamp- den, not the plebeians of Eonie and the Demos of Athens, not the Eepublicans of Yenice nor the Calvinists of Hol- land and Geneva, had ventured upon that tremendous stride in human progress that would alone satisfy the re- formers of America. Educated in the strict conceptions of rank and caste which even Massachusetts had culti- vated, and Virginia carried to a ludicrous extreme, they 496 AMERICAN HISTORY. [La\vre>'ce threw aside the artificial distinction forever, and declared all men equal. ... At the founding of the republic the colonists were ac- customed to boast that their territory extended fifteen hundred miles in length, and was alread}^ the seat of a powerful nation. But of this vast expanse the larger part even along the sea-coast was still an uninhabited wilder- ness. Although more than a century and a half had passed since the first settlements in Massachusetts and Virginia, onh^ a thin line of insignificant towns and vil- lages reached from Maine to Georgia. In the century since the Declaration of Independence a whole continent has been seamed with railroads and filled with people; but the slow growth of the preceding century had scarcel}' disturbed the reign of the savage on his native plains. On the coast the province of Maine possessed only a few towns, and an almost unbroken solitude spread from Port- land to the St. Lawrence. A few hardy settlers were just founding a State among the Green Mountains destined to be the home of a spotless freedom. In New York, still inferior to several of its fellow-colonies in population, the cultivated portions were confined to the bay and shores of the Hudson. The rich fields of the Genesee Yalley and the Mohawk were famous already, but the savages had checked the course of settlement. . . . Pennsylvania, a frontier State, comparatively populous and wealthy, pro- tected Xew Jersey and Delaware from their assaults ; but Pittsburg was still only a military post, and the larger part of the population of the colony was gathered in the neighborhood of the capital. Woods, mountains, and morasses filled up that fair region where now the immense wealth of coal and iron has produced the Birmingham of America. The Southern colonies had grown with more rapidity Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 497 in population and wealth than New York and Pennsyl- vania. Virginia and the Carolinas had extended their settlements westward far into the interior. Some emi- gi-ants had even wandered to western Tennessee. Daniel Boone had led the way to Kentucky. A few English or Americans had colonized Natchez, on the Mississippi. But the settlers in Kentucky and Tennessee lived with rifle in hand, seldom safe from the attacks of the natives, and were to form in the war of independence that admirable corps of riflemen and sharp-shooters who were noted for their courage and skill from the siege of Boston to the fall of Cornwallis. The Virginians were settled in the Tennessee mountains long before the people of New York had ventured to build a village on the shores of Lake Erie or the Pennsylvanians ci'ossed the Alleghanies. But still even Virginia is represented to us about this period as in great part a wilderness. ... In the North the line of cultivated country must be drawn along the shores of the Hudson Eiver, omitting the dispersed settlements in two or three inland districts. The Delaware and a distance of perhaps fifty miles to the westward included all the wealth and population of Pennsylvania. The Alleghanies infolded the civilized portions of Virginia, and North and South Carolina cannot be said to have reached beyond their mountains. So slowly had the people of North America made their way from the sea-coast. . . . [Of the inland country very little was known, while the region beyond the Mississippi was "a land of fable, where countless hosts of savages were believed to rule over endless plains and to engage in ceaseless battles." Long afterwards it Was supposed that the vvatei-s of the Missouri might extend to the Pacific] Within the cultivated district a population usually, but probably en-oneously, estimated at three millions were thinly scattered over a narrow strip of land. The number l.—gg 42* 498 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence can scarcely be maintained. The New England colonies could have had not more than eight hundred thousand in- habitants ; the middle colonies as many more ; the South- ern a little over a million. New York had a population of two hundred and forty-eight thousand, and was surpassed by Yirginia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Marjiand, and was at least equalled, if not exceeded, by North Carolina. Its gi'owth had been singularly slow. The small popu- lation of the Union was composed of different races and of almost hostile communities. There was a lasting feud between the Dutch at Albany and the people of New England. . . . The Germans settled in Pennsylvania re- tained their national customs and language, and were almost an alien race. Huguenot colonies existed in sev- eral portions of the country. The north of Ireland had poured forth a stream of emigrants. Swedish settlements attracted the notice of Kalm along the Delaware. In North Carolina a clan of Highlanders had brought to the New World an intense loyalty and an extreme ignorance. The divisions of race and language offered a strong obsta- cle to any j)erfect union of the different colonies. But a still more sti-iking opposition existed in the political insti- tutions of the various sections. In the South, royalty, aristocracy, and the worst form of human slavery had grown up together. In no part of the world were the dis- tinctions of rank more closely observed, or mechanical and agricultural industry more perfectly contemned. In New England the institutions were democratic, and honest labor was thought no shame. In the South episcopacy was rigidly established by law ; in New England a tolerant Puritanism had succeeded the persecuting spirit'of Cotton Mather and Winthrop. . . . In the course of a century, within their narrow fringe of country the colonists had transformed the wilderness Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 499 into a fertile and productive territory. Agriculture was their favorite pursuit. Travellers from Europe were struck with the skill with which they cultivated the rich and abundant soil, the fine farm-houses that filled the landscape, fhe barns overflowing with harvests, the cattle, the sheep. The Northern and middle colonies were famous for sheep and corn. Pennsj'lvania was the granarj- of the nation. In New Jersey the fine farms that spread from Trenton to Elizabethtown excited the admiration of the scientific Kalm. Long Island was the garden of America, and all along the valleys opening upon the Hud- son the Dutch and Huguenot colonists had acquired ease and opulence by a careful agriculture. The farm-houses, usually built of stone, with tall roofs and narrow windows, were scenes of intelligent industry. While the young men labored in the fields, the mothers and daughters spun wool and flax and prepared a large part of the clothing of the family. The farm-house was a manufactory for all the articles of daily use. Even nails were hammered out in the winter, and the farmer was his own mechanic. A school and a church were provided for almost every vil- lage. Few children were left untaught by the Dutch dominie, who was sometimes paid in wampum, or the New England student, who lived among his patrons, and was not always fed upon the daintiest fare. . . . The progress of agriculture at the South was even more rapid and remarkable than at the North. The wilderness was swiftly converted into a productive region. The coast from St. Mary's to the Delaware, with its inland country, became within a century the most valuable portion of the earth. Its products were eagerly sought for in all the capitals of Europe, and one noxious plant of Virginia had supplied mankind with a new vice and a new pleasure. . . . Tobacco was in Virijinia the life of trade and inter- 500 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Lawrence course ; prices were estimated in it ; the salaries of the clergy were fixed at so many pounds of tobacco. All other products of the soil were neglected in order to raise the savage plant. Ships from England came over annu- ally to gather in the great crops of the lai'ge planters, . . . [and] Yirginia grew enormously rich from the sudden rise of an artificial taste. [Other crops replaced tobacco farther south. In South Carolina the cultivation of rice, brought thither in 1694 from Madagascar, had become greatly developed. Indigo, sugar, molasses, tar, pitch, were other valuable Southern products, but cotton, which was destined to assume the place farther south which tobacco then held in Virginia, was as yet cultivated only in small quantities for the use of the farmers. The commercial restrictions imposed by England acted detrimentally upon American agriculture, yet it flourished in spite of them.] The commerce of the colonies flourished equally with their agriculture. It was chiefly in the Northern colonies that ships were built, and that hardy race of sailors formed whose courage became renowned in every sea. But the English navigation laws weighed heavily upon American trade. Its ships were, with a few exceptions, only allowed to sail to the ports of G-reat Britain. No foreign ship was suffered to enter the American harbors. . . . [Yet] the colo- nists contrived to build large numbers of ships, and even to sell yearly more than a hundred of them in England. The ship-yards of New England were already renowned. Boston, New York, and Philadelphia were seats of an im- portant trade. On the island of Nantucket the whale- fishery had been established that was to prove for a brief period a source of great profit and a school of accomplished seamen. The spermaceti-whale was still seen along the American coast, but the New England whaler had already penetrated Hudson Bay, and even pierced the Antarctic. ... In consequence of the rigid navigation laws, smug- Lawrence] AMERICA IN 1776. 50I gling prevailed nil along the American coast, and swift vessels and daring sailors made their way to the ports of France and Spain to bring back valuable cargoes of wine and silks. Boston was the chief seat of ship-building, and its fast-sailing vessels were sent to the West Indies to be exchanged for rum and sugar. In 1743 it was estimated that New England employed one thousand ships in its trade, besides its fishing-barks. . . . The rise of American commerce had seemed wonderful to Burke, Barre, and all those EngHshmen who were capa- ble of looking beyond the politics of their own narrow island ; but no sooner had America become free than its trade doubled, and soon rose to what in 1775 would have seemed incredible prof)ortions. New York, Boston, and Philadelphia became at once large cities, and England was enriched by American freedom. . . . In manufactures the colonists can be said to have made but little progress. The English government had vigor- ously forbidden them to attempt to make their own wares. A keen watch had been kept over them, and it was resolved that they should never be suffered to compete with the artisans of England. The governors of the different colo- nies w^ere directed to make a careful report to the home government of the condition of the colonial manufac- tures, in order that they might be effectually destroyed. From their authentic but perhaps not always accurate survey it is jjossible to form a general conception of the slow advance of this branch of labor. South of Connecti- cut, we are told, there were scarcely any manufactures : the people imported everything that they required from Great Britain. Kalm, indeed, found leather made at Beth- lehem, in Pennsylvania, as good as the English, and much cheaper. He praises the American mechanics ; but, in general, we may accept the reports of the governors that 502 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence all manufactured articles emplo3'ed in the family or in trade were made abroad. Linens and fine cloths, silks, implements of iron and steel, furniture, arms, powder, were purchased of the London merchants. But this was not always the case in busy New England. Here the jealous London traders discovered that iron-foundries and even slitting-mills were alreadj^ in operation ; that fur hats were manufaetui'ed for exportation in Connecticut and Boston ; that the people were beginning to supply their own wants, and even to threaten the factories of England with a dan- gerous rivalry. The English traders petitioned the gov- ernment for relief from this colonial insubordination, and Parliament hastened to suppress the poor slitting-mills and hat-manufactories of our ancestors by an express law. The hatters, who seem to have especially excited the jeal- ousy of their London brethren, were forbidden to export hats even to the next colony, and were allowed to take only two apprentices at a time. Iron and steel works were also prohibited. Wool and flax manufactui-es were sup- pressed by stringent provisions. American factories were declared "nuisances." No wool or manufacture of wool could be carried from one colon}" to another; and, what was a more extraordinary instance of oppression, no Bible was suffered to be printed in America. [Pig-iron was produced to some extent in Pennsylvania and some other colonies, but for export only, not for manufacture. Coal was mined in Virginia. No conception, however, was yet attained of the vast stores of mineral wealth whicli slept beneath the ground, and which were destined to make the new nation immensely rich within a few generations.] The chief cities of our ancestors were all scattered along the sea-coast. There were no large towns in the interior. Albany was still a small village, Schenectady a cluster of houses. To those vast inland capitals which have sprung Lawrence] AMERICA IN 177G. 503 up on the lakes and great rivers of the West our country offered no parallel. Chicago and St. Louis, the centi-es of enormous wealth and unlimited commerce, had yet no predecessors. Pleasant villages had sprung up in Xew England, JS'ew Jersey, and on the banks of the Hudson, but they could pretend to no rivalry with those flourishing cities which lined the sea-coast or its estuaries and seemed to our ancestors the abodes of luxmy and splendor. Yet even jSTew York, Philadelphia, and Boston, extensive as thej^ appeared to the colonists, were insignificant towns compared to the English capitals, and gave no pi'omise of ever approaching that grandeur which seemed to be re- served especially for London and Paris. In 1774 the popu- lation of New York was perhaps twenty thousand ; that of London six hundred thousand. The latter was thirty times larger than the other, and in wealth and political importance was so infinitely its superior that a comparison between them would have been absurd. Boston, which has crowned Beacon Hill, pressed over the ]S"eck, and even covered with a magnificent quarter a large surface that was once the bed of the Charles River, was in 1774 a town of fifteen thousand or eighteen thou- sand inhabitants, closely confined to the neighborhood of the bay. . . . The Boston of 1774, which proclaimed free- dom and defied the power of England, would scarcely rank to-day among the more important country towns. New York was more populous, but it was still confined to the narrow point of land below the Park. The thickh- -built part of the town lay in the neighborhood of Whitehall. Some fine houses lined Broadway and Broad Street, but to the west of Bi-oadway green lawns stretched down from Trinity and St. Paul's to the water. Trees were planted thickly before the houses ; on the roofs railings or balconies were placed, and in the summer evenings the people gath- 504 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence ered on the house-tops to catch the cool air. Lamps had ah'eady been placed on the streets. Fair villas covered the environs, and even the Baroness Eiedesel, who had visited in the royal palaces of Europe, was charmed with the scenery and homes of the citizens. Extravagance had already corrupted the plainer habits of the earlier period. The examples of London and Paris had already affected the American cities. The people of New York drank fiery Madeira, and were noted for their luxury. Broadway was thought the most splendid of avenues, although it ended at Chambers Street. And twenty years later, when the City Hall was built, it was called by Dwight (a good scholar) the finest building in America. The streets of New York and Boston wei^e usually crooked and narrow, but the foresight of Penn had made Philadelphia a model of regularity. Market and Broad Streets were ample and stately. The city was as populous as New York, and perhaps the possessor of more wealth. It was the first city on the continent, and the fame of Franklin had already given it a European renown. Yet Philadelphia when it rebelled against George IIL was only an insignificant town, clinging to the banks of the river; and New York invited the attack of the chief naval power of the world with its hai'bor undefended and its whole population exposed to the guns of the enemy's ships. The Southern cities were yet of little importance. Baltimore was a small town. Yirginia had no large city. Charleston had a few thousand inhabitants. Along that immense line of sea-coast now covered with populous cities the smallest of which would have made the New Yoi'k and Boston of our ancestors seem insignificant, only these few and isolated centres of commerce had sprung up. The wilderness still covered the shores of Long Island, New Jersey, Delaware, and the Cai"olinas almost as in the days of Ealeigh. Lawrence] AMERICA IX 1776. 505 To pass from one city to another along this desolate shore was, in 1775, a long and difficult journey. Eoads had been early built in most of the colonies. In Massa- chusetts they were good, except where they passed over the hills. In New York a good road ran through Orange and Ulster counties to Albany. That between New York and Philadelphia was probably tolerable. In the Southern colonies but little attention was paid to road-building, and even those in the neighborhood of Philadelphia were often almost impassable. A stage-coach ran in two days from New York to Philadelphia, but the passengers were re- quested to cross over the evening before to Powle's Hook, that they might set out early in the morning. Sloops sailed to Albany in seven or eight days. From Boston to New York Avas a tedious journey. In fair weathei- the roads of the time were tolerable ; but in winter and spring they became little better than quagmires. There was therefore but little intercourse between the people of the distant colonies, and in winter all communication by land and water must have been nearly cut off. . . . The Northern cities were usually built of brick or of stone, and many of the farm-houses were of the latter material. The former had been imported from Holland for the first New York buildings ; and even Schenectady. a frontier town, was so purely Dutch as to have been early decorated with Holland brick. In the country stone was easily gathered from the abundant quarries on the Hudson or along the New England hills. Many large, low stone houses, with lofty roofs and massive windows, may still be seen in the rich valleys opening upon the Hudson, almost in the same condition in which they wei^e left by their Huguenot or Dutch builders, and apparently capable of enduring the storms of another century. Brick-making was soon introduced into the colonies, and the abundant i.-w 43 506 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lawrence forests supplied all the materials for the mechanic. ... A general equality in condition was nearly reached. Not five men, we are told, in New York and Philadelphia ex- pended ten thousand dollars a year upon their families. The manners of the people were simple ; their expenses moderate. Yet nowhere was labor so well rewarded or poverty so rare. . . . Wines and liquors were freely con- sumed by our ancestors, and even New England had as yet no high repute for temperance. Euni Avas taken as a common restorative. The liquor shops of New York had long been a public annoyance. In the far-southern colo- nies, we are told, the planter began his day with a strong glass of spirits, and closed it by carousing, gambling, or talking politics in the village tavern. Our ancestors were extraordinarily fond of money, if we ma^' trust the judg- ment of Washington, who seems to have found too many of them willing to improve their fortunes from the re- sources of the impoverished community. But in general it must be inferred that the standard of public morals was not low [as compared with the Europe of that day]. [Intellectually the colonists made much progress, and statesmen, writers, and scientists appeared who vied with those of Europe. Schools for the general population were considerably more numerous than in England and France, while several colleges, of a somewhat high standard, were established, though they were as yet but poorly attended. Several newspapers had been started, the earliest. The News Letter of Boston, being founded in 1704. In 1775 four papers were printed in each of the cities of Philadelphia, New York, and Boston. Books were not wanting. One Boston house had ten thousand volumes on its shelves. A public library had been founded by Franklin in Philadelphia in 1742. Medical schools and other institutions were in operation, and the first steps in most of the great enterprises of later days had been taken at the opening of the Eevolution.] Jefferson] DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 507 THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. THOMAS JEFFERSON. [As a fitting epilogue to the history of Colonial America, and pro- logue to that of Independent America, we append the highly-impor- tant document whose consideration and passage by the Continental Congress are described in a preceding article. The committee ap- pointed to draw up this paper consisted of Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Eoger Sherman, and Philip Livingston, but its preparation, as there stated, was left by the committee to Jefferson, from his supposed peculiar fitness fur the work. Several unimportant, and one or two important, changes were made in the original draft as presented by him, but as it stands it is very nearly word for word his own, and must be ranked for ages to come among the great political documents of the world, the Magna Charta of American liberty, or perhaps we should saj' of human liberty, — since in the republic of the United States the freedom of mankind was first solidly based and per- manently assured.] When, in the course of human events, it becomes neces- sary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident : — that all men are created equal ; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, de- riving their just powers from the consent of the governed ; that whenever any form of government becomes destruc- tive of these ends, it is the right of the peojile to alter or 508 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its power in such form, as to them shall seem most likel}^ to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes ; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing in- variabl}' the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their dut}', to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient suf- ferance of these colonies, and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. The history of the present king of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states. To prove this, let facts be sub- mitted to a candid world. He has refused his assent to laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good. He has forbidden his governors to pass laws of imme- diate and pressing importance, unless suspended in their operation till his assent should be obtained ; and when so suspended, he has utterly neglected to attend to them. He has refused to pass other laws for the accommo- dation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legis- lature, a right inestimable, and formidable to tyrants only. He has called together legislative bodies at places un- usual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of Jeffkrson] declaration OF INDEPENDENCE. 509 their public records, for tlie sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures. He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for ©Imposing, with manly firmness, his invasions on the rights of the people. He has refused, for a long time after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the legislative powers, incapable of annihilation, have returned to the people at large for their exercise ; the state remaining in the mean time exposed to all the danger of invasion from without, and convulsions within. He has endeavored to prevent the population of these states ; for that purpose obstructing the laws for naturali- zation of foreigners ; refusing to pass others to encourage their migration hither, and raising the conditions of new appropriations of lands. He has obstructed the administration of justice, by re- fusing his assent to laws for establishing judiciary powers. He has made judges dependent on his will alone, for the tenure of their offices, and the amount and payment of their salaries. He has erected a multitude of new offices, and sent hither swarms of officers to hai^ass our people, and eat out their substance. He has kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies, without the consent of our legislatures. He has affected to render the military independent of, and superior to, the civil power. He has combined with othei's to subject us to a juris- diction foi'eign to our constitution, and unacknowledged by our laws ; giving his assent to their acts of pretended legislation : For quartering large bodies of armed troops among us : For protecting them, by a mock trial, from punishment 510 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson for any murders which they should commit on the inhab- itants of these states : For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world : For imposing taxes on us without our consent: For depriving us, in many cases, of the benefits of trial by jury : For transporting us beyond seas to be tried for pre- tended offences : For abolishing the free system of English laws in a neighboring province, establishing therein an arbitrary government, and enlarging its boundaries, so as to render it at once an example and fit instrument for introducing the same absolute rule into these colonies : For taking away our charters, abolishing our most val- uable laws, and altering fundamentall}" the forms of our governments : For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested wnth power to legislate for us in all cases whatsoever. He has abdicated government here, by declaring us out of his protection, and waging war against us. He has phindered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our jjeople. He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyrannj', already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, scarcely paralleled in the most barbarous ages' and totally unworthy the head of a civilized nation. He has constrained our fellow-citizens, taken captive on the high seas, to bear arms against their country, to be- come the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to fall themselves by their hands. He has excited domestic insurrections amongst us, and has endeavored to brins; on the inhabitants of our frontiers Jefferson] DECLARATION OF IXDEPEXDENCE. 511 the merciless Indian savages, "whose known rule of war- fare is an undistinguished destruction of all ages, sexes, and conditions. In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated peti- tions have been answered onl}^ by repeated injur}'. A prince whose character is thus marked by ever}- act which ma}' define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people. Nor have we been wanting in attention to our British brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts made by their legislature to extend an unwar- rantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and mag- nanimity, and we have conjured them, by the ties of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspon- dence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace, friends. We, therefore, the representatives of the United States of America, in General Congress assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name and by authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare that these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, FREE and IXDEPENDENT STATES ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crown; and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved ; and that as free and independent states they have full power to levy 512 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Jefferson war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do. And for the support of this dec- laration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. John Hancock, President. New Hampshire, Josiah Bartlett, "William "Whipple, Mat- thew Thornton. Massachusetts., Samuel Adams, John Adams, Eobert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. Rhode Island, Ste- phen Hopkins, "William Ellery. Connecticut, Eoger Sher- man, Samuel Huntington, "William Williams, Oliver "Wol- cott. New York, "William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris. New Jersey, Eichard Stockton, John "Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark. Pennsylvania, Eobert Morris, Benjamin Eush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James "Wilson, George Eoss. Dela- ware, Caesar Eodney, George Eead. Maryland, Samuel Chase, "William Paca, Thomas Stone, Chai'les Carroll, of Carrollton. Virginia, George "Wythe, Eichard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, junior, Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton. North Car- olina, "William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn. South Carolina, Edward Eutledge, Thomas Heyward, junior, Thomas Lynch, junior, Arthur Middleton. Georgia, Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George "Walton. GEORGE WASHINGTON. PART II. INDEPENDENT AMERICA, DECISIVE EVENTS IN THE STORY OF THE GREAT REPUBLIC, SECTION VII. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. PRELIMINARY REMARKS. The important action taken by the Continental Con- gress in the passage of the Declaration of Independence was received with enthusiasm by the people of the newly- created United States of America. On the 8th of July the independence of the country was proclaimed with great solemnity at Philadelphia, and welcomed by the people with the greatest exultation, artillery being fired, bonfires kindled, and other manifestations of joy displayed. It was read to the army in New York on the 11th, and was received by them with wild acclamations. That evening the statue of King George, which had been erected in 1770, was dragged through the streets by a party of sol- diers, and a resolution taken to convert into bullets the lead of which it was made. This riotous proceeding was severely rebuked by "Washington, 7 8 AMERICAN HISTORY. In Baltimore independence was proclaimed amid the roar of artillery, while the eflSgy of the king became the sport of the populace, and was afterwards burned in the public square. In Boston the rejoicings of the peoj)le surpassed those in any other section of the country. Independence was there proclaimed from the balcony of the State-House, in the presence of all the authorities and of a great concourse of people. Salutes were fired, the troops paraded, the bells were rung, and the people went wild with joy, in their excitement tearing to pieces and burning all the ensigns of royalty. A banquet was pre- pared for the authorities and the principal inhabitants, at which toasts were drunk to the destruction of tyrants, the propagation of liberty, and a series of similar sentiments. In Virginia great enthusiasm also prevailed, and the con- vention passed a number of acts designed to remove every vestige of royalty from the public proceedings of the commonwealth. The passage of this declaration entailed new duties upon the people, which would exhaust their powers, legislative and military, for years to come. A new government had to be formed, on a plan which had never before been ap- plied to a country of such extent, and which involved in- numerable difficulties. And the independence declared by the legislature had to be sustained by the army against all the power of the richest and most energetic nation of the Europe of that day. Some consideration of the steps taken towards the accomplishment of these purposes is important as preliminary to the story of the subsequent events of the war. The resolution of independence had abolished one phase of political existence; it had not created a new phase. A nation was yet to be made out of the discordant elements of the separate colonies. And to this essential purpose THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 9 Congress at once addressed itself. The tie which had hitherto held together the colonies was slight and tem- porary. It needed to be made strong and permanent. Articles of confederation satisfactory to all the States of the newly-formed republic needed to be adopted ere the American Union could claim the title of a nation. A committee was at once appointed by Congress to frame such articles. A report was made by this com- mittee on the 12th of July. On the 22d the House began the consideration of the proj^osed articles, the principal subjects of debate being the proportion of money which each State should pay into the common treasuxy, and the manner of voting in Congress. The financial article, as proposed, required each State to pay into the treasury a sum in proportion to its total population, exclusive of un- taxed Indians. This was objected to on the plea that it included slaves, who, properly considered, were property and not persons, and that Southern slaves had no more right to bo considered in fixing the tax-rate than Northern cattle. John Adams took the opposite view, with the argument that slaves by their labor added to the wealth of the States, and that they had alwaj'S been taken into the estimates of taxes by the Southern provinces. The question was carried, on this basis, by the votes of the Northern delegates, who were in a majority. The other article which led to prolonged debate was that concerning the voting power of the States in Congress. The original report provided that each colony should have but one vote. Mr. Chase proposed as a compromise that on financial questions each State should have a voice in proportion to the number of its inhabitants. Franklin supported this proposition, saying that if the States voted equally they ought to pay equally. Dr. Witherspoon contended that each State should be considered as an individual, with a 10 AMERICAN HISTORY. single vote on all matters. John Adams, on the contrary, advocated voting in proportion to numbers. He held that the individuality of the States was a mere word ; it was the purpose of the Confederacy to weld them, like separate pieces of metal, into one common mass. Mr. Wilson, of Pennsylvania, ably followed from the same point of view, bringing European illustrations to show the danger of giving too much separate independence to the members of a confederated union. Thus early was brought up that burning question of State Eights, as opposed to the su- premacy of the Union, which has not yet been definitely settled. The debate on the Articles of Confederation was con- tinued for several months, and the whole subject thor- oughly canvassed, standing committees of Congress mean- while carrying on the active affairs of the government. During this period the several States, in conformity with the act previously passed by Congress, busied themselves in organizing State governments suitable to the new con- dition of affairs. Not for a moment was any thought of reproducing a monarchical government entertained. The people of America had been republican in sentiment from the first, and their political history had been in gr^eat part a struggle to reduce the prerogatives of the monarch who claimed them as subjects. So much power had been exer- cised by the people and their representatives, and so well were they schooled in the art of self-government, that the change of sovereignty was scarcely perceptible, and very little needed to be added to existing conditions to form a complete apparatus of government. The people were not willing that any one man should have the authority to negative the decision of a majority of their representatives. Yet long experience had taught them that it would be dangerous to lodge all power in the THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. \\ hands of a single body of men. Some intermediate course ■was desirable, and after much discussion the difficulty was overcome by the formation, in eleven out of the thirteen colonies, of a legislature of two branches, whose concur- rence should be necessary to the passage of any law. The second branch was to consist of a few select persons, under the name of senate, or council, adapted to consider wisely and calmly the acts passed by the more numerous branch of representatives. Georgia and Pennsylvania alone adopted legislatures consisting of a single House. iNew York and Massachusetts went a step further. The former gave to a council composed of the governor and the heads of judicial departments, and the latter to the governor alone, the power of objecting to any proposed law and requiring its reconsideration and passage by a two-thirds majority of both Houses to make it operative. The objection in Georgia and Pennsylvania to a double Assembly arose from the difficulty of creating a higher and a lower branch by election from a homogeneous people held to lie absolutely equal politically. No distinction of rank existed, and distinction of wealth was not admitted as a source of political inequality. Ten of the eleven States, with legislatures of two branches, ordained the election of both hj the people. Maryland had her senate chosen by electors, two from each county, elected by the people, the senators to hold their seats for five years, while the representatives were re-elected annually. By this means a senate composed of men of influence and ability was obtained. Pennsylvania adopted the expedient of publishing bills after the second reading, so that they might be considered by ^he people and the sense of the inhabitants taken. It was not long, however, before it was discovered that this expedient was injudicious, and that the single chamber did not work well. A second 12 AMERICAN HISTORY. chamber was therefore added. A similar action was after- wards taken by G-eorgia. Every State appointed a supreme extcutive, under the title either of governor or president. In New York and the Eastern States the governors were elected directly by the people ; in the other States, by the legislatures. New York alone gave the governor the right to act without the advice of a council. The jealousy of supreme power was so great among the Americans that they surrounded their executive officers with checks that proved, in the end, more cumbrous than useful. The principle of rota- tion in office was strongly insisted upon, frequent elections being required, and in some cases it being ordained that no office should be held by the same person longer than a specified period of time. As a further securit}' for the per- manence of republican institutions, all the States agreed in prohibiting hereditary honors or distinctions of rank. They all, moreover, abolished state rehgions. Some re- tained a constitutional distinction between Christians and others, so far as the power of holding office was concerned, but no sect was permitted legislative precedence, and the alliance between church and state was completely broken. While the States were thus adopting new constitutions and organizing new governments, whose imperfections were negatived by the important feature that the people retained the power of altering and amending them when- ever they chose, the General Congress continued the con- sideration of the Articles of Confederation which were to combine these separate States into a single nation. The debate upon this was very deliberately conducted, and sixteen months elapsed before it was ready to be com- municated to the States. Three years more elapsed ere it was ratified by all the States. The principal objections were those which had already been abundantly debated ii. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 13 Congress, and that of the disposal of the vacant "Western lands. This latter question was finally settled by the cession of these lands, by the States which claimed them, to the Union, for the common good of the people. The suffrage-difficulty was overcome by viewing the States as individuals and giving them equality of votes. The last State to ratify the Articles of Confederation was Maryland, on March 1, 1781. The principal powers of Congress, as defined by this agreement, were — the sole right of de- ciding on peace and war, of sending and receiving am- bassadors, of forming treaties and alliances, of regulating coinage, of fixing the standard of weights and measures, of managing Indian affairs, of estabhshing post-offices, of borrowing money or issuing bills on the credit of the United States, of raising an army through requisitions upon the States, and of forming a navy. It constituted also the final court of appeal in disputes between the States. This system, though suitable to the conditions then ex- isting, was destined to prove inadequate to the political requirements of the country after peace had succeeded to war. The confederation was little more than a league of friendship between the States. While investing Congress with many of the powers of sovereignty, it left it destitute of all means to enforce its decrees, the States retaining important powers which properly belonged to the central government. Not many years had passed after the ter- mination of the war before it appeared that a radical change in the whole system was necessary for the proper government of the nation. Yet the Articles of Confeder- ation sufficed to hold the States together till the conflict had ended, and the wisdom of American legislators could be applied to the important duty of organizing a stable union, in which the relations of the State and the national governments would be properly adjusted, and the American 14 AMERICAN HISTORY. theory of local control of local affairs, and of national con- trol of general affairs, could be carried out in all the com- plex details of the existence of a great confederated nation. As for the means through which the declared indepen- dence was to be consummated, and the opposing means through which England hoped to reduce her revolted col- onies to obedience, there were discouraging circumstances on both sides. We have already adverted to the difficulties experienced by Washington in making an army out of the intractable materials placed in his hands, and of the incon- venience arising from the short terms of enlistment of the men. There were other disheartening conditions. An officer who at that time wrote to. a member of Congress presented a deplorable picture of the state of the army : " Almost every villany that can disgrace the man, the sol- dier, or the citizen is daily practised, without meeting the punishment they merit. So many of our officers want honor, and so many of our soldiers want virtue, civil, social, and military, that nothing but the severest punish- ments will keep both from practices that must ruin us. . . . Our men are at present only robbers ; that they will soon be murderers, unless some are hanged, I have no doubt." This is the testimony of a patriotic American, and it is confirmed by other statements. It was evident that a total change in the military system of the country was requisite. Many of the soldiers were enlisted for a few months, and none for more than a year, and they had no time to learn the business of war. The enthusiasm of the militia quickly died out, as it necessa- rily always does, and it was remarked by a member of Congress that the Americans had lost most of that virtue which first drew them to the field, and were sinking into an army of mercenaries. They received so little pay, and were so ill provided with the necessaries of life, that there THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 15 was some excuse for their acts of plundering. Yet these acts were of serious dimensions. Washington spoke of them as infamous, and said that no man was secure in his effects, and scarcely in his person. Yet he found it impos- sible to reduce the soldiers to subordination, under existing circumstances. He did his utmost to rouse Congress to the importance of long enlistments, but such was the dread of a standing army that these demands were as yet un- heeded. Congress, indeed, discouraged the formation of martial habits, and required that frequent furloughs should be granted, " rather than that the endearments of wives and children should cease to allure the individuals of our army from camps to farms." This was no way to make an army, as the law-makers were destined to discover. Shortly before the evacuation of New York by General "Washington, it was resolved, against considerable opposi- tion, to reorganize the army in eighty-eight battalions, to be made up of men enlisted for the war. A quota was assigned to each State, and, to encourage enlistments, a bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of land was given to every recruit, with higher bounties to officers. A new set of rules for the discipline of the army was at the same time adopted. It had become evident that a regular army must be formed if success were desired. Yet the raising of these new levies proceeded with dis- couraging slowness, and meanwhile affairs were going from bad to worse. One expedient adopted by Congress was an attempt to seduce the Hessian troops from the Brit- ish service by the offer of large bounties in land. Yet the condition of American affairs after the loss of New York was calculated to render all these efforts nugatory. When Washington reached the western shore of the Delaware, after his retreat through New Jersey, the fortunes of the United States were at a very low ebb. The army was 16 AMERICAN HISTORY. greatly reduced in numbers, and the term of all its mem- bers would end within a month. Indications looked towards its complete disbandment, and a hopeless yield- ing of the colonies to the power against which they had rebelled. "Washington's success at Trenton radically changed this depressing state of affairs. The cruelty of the British and the Hessians had aroused the people of the occupied regions to bitter hatred, and as the Continental army gradually regained possession of the State of New Jersey, confidence returned, and the depleted ranks were filled up with new levies. From that time forward the American forces became an army more than in name, and the for- tunes of the United States never again sank to so low an ebb. "While these difficulties existed in America, England had not been without her troubles. The doings of the ministry had from the first roused a powerful opposition in Parlia- ment, and the Earl of Chatham, in particular, arraigned the government for injustice to the colonies, deprecated the attempt to reduce them by force, and demanded a complete removal of the oppressive acts which had driven the loyal colonists to rebellion. He was of opinion that this course would bring them back to their allegiance; but in this he misjudged the sentiments of the Americans, as was proved when the ministry afterwards sent out commissioners to treat with Congress and the colonies on the basis of a redress of grievances. Neither Congress nor the people of the States would listen to their pro- posals, and they were forced to return without achieving their purpose. America could be reduced only by force, and this force proved difficult to obtain. The service was not popular, and recruiting for the American war went on very slowly. THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. 17 The British government, hampered by this circumstance, looked abroad for aid, offering its money for the men of other states. Its great hope "was in Russia, whose empress had made some friendly remarks about England which were construed into a readiness to furnish troops. An ap- plication for twenty thousand infantiy was made, and so sure was the British ministry of obtaining them that there was sent to Carleton, in Canada, an assurance of speedy reinforcements. But the empress Catherine had meant nothing of the kind, and she bluntly declined to hire out her soldiers as mercenaries. Her i-efusal was so expressed as to give great oifence to George III., who found himself now obliged to depend on the German principalities for aid. He also considered the project of rousing the High- landers of North Carolina and the loj'alists of the Middle and Southern provinces. In the latter part of 1775 the situation of England was a grave one. The opponents in Parliament to the action of the ministry were numerous, and comprised some of the foremost men in that body. The military position of the country was still worse. Twenty-eight thousand sailors and fifty thousand soldiers had been asked for; but these were insufficient for the purposes required, and a bill enabling the king to call out the militia, to use in America, was passed. Yet the need of soldiers was immediate, and application was made to various Continental powers, among them Holland, where a so-called Scottish brigade had existed since early in the seventeenth century. But Holland re- fused the use of this body, except for employment in Europe. This George III. declined. He had, indeed, ob- tained assistance from another quarter. Contracts had been made for the enlistment of soldiers in some of the petty German states. These were in part secret, but open II.— 3 2* 18 AMERICAN HISTORY. negotiations were carried on with the Duke of Brunswick and the Landgrave of Ilesse-CasseL The subjects of these magnates were bought like so many cattle, it being ar- ranged with the duke that every soldier killed should be paid for at the rate of the levy-money, and that three wounded should be reckoned as one killed. An annual subsidy was to be paid. The German troops obtained in this discreditable man- ner numbered seventeen thousand men. Of these Hesse- Cassel supplied twelve thousand, and Brunswick and other petty states the remainder. The affair was a disgraceful one on both sides, and aroused indignation throughout Europe. Frederick the Great, a man not over-scrupulous in his own measures, viewed it as an abominable traffic in human lives, and it is said that whenever any of these hirelings passed through his territory he levied on them the usual toll for cattle, saying that they had been sold as such. Man}^ in England entertained a similar feeling ; yet the treaties were ratified by large majorities in Parliament, and these disgracefully-obtained troops were shipped to America. There the proceeding was viewed with the utmost indignation, and served to increase the bitterness and determination of the colonists, whose rebellious energy was greatly added to by the means thus taken to overcome it, and particularly by the measures employed to bring the Indians into the conflict in support of the British cause. Such was the state of affairs in America and England at the period at which we have now arrived. In the Decla- ration of Independence America had flung the gauntlet of defiance at the feet of the British government, and both sides prepared for a stern continuance of the war. SEROEAXT JASTKH HKCOVEHS THE FEAG. Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 19 THE CAPTURE OF LONG ISLAND AND NEW YORK. J. D. STEELE. [Shortly after the evacuation of Boston, Washington led his army to New York, which he feared might be assailed. Sir Henry Clinton soon after appeared off Sandy Hook with his fleet, but, finding the place guarded, he sailed south, where he met Sir Peter Parker with a large fleet. The conjoined fleets now sailed to Charleston, the entrance to whose harbor was defended by Fort Sullivan, a rudely-built log for- tification, which General Lee declared to be a mere "slaughter-pen," and which he was anxious to have abandoned. But the Carolinians boldly determined to hold it. On the 28th of June the British ships opened a terrible fire upon it. But the porous, spongy palmetto logs received the balls without injury, while the fire of the fort riddled the ships and swept their decks. Early in the battle the flag was struck down by a ball which severed the shaft. In a moment Sergeant Jasper leaped over the breastworks, seized the flag, which had fallen on the ground outside, tied it to a sponge-shaft, and hoisted it again to its place. The battle ended in the fleet's being so shattered that it was forced to withdraw. The colonists were overjoyed at the result of this their first encounter with the "mistress of the seas." The gallantly- defended fort was re-named Fort Moultrie, in honor of its brave com- mander. The defeated fleet sailed north, and met at Staten Island the fleet of General Howe from Halifax and that of Admiral Howe from England. They had on board a large army, partly made up of Hessian merce- naries, who had been bargained for by the British ministry and handed over as slaves by their impecunious rulers to aid in subduing the re- volted colonies. It was designed, with this fleet and army, to assail and capture New York. We select a description of the succeeding events from Dr. J. D. Steele's condensed but attractively-written work entitled " Barnes's Popular History of the United States."] After the evacuation of Boston, Washington thought that probably the British would next try to seize New York, both on account of its commercial importance and 20 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele the strong tory element in that vicinity. He therefore, soon after, came to that city. The most vigorous prepa- rations were made to complete the fortifications, already begun by General Charles Lee. Troops were enlisted for three years, and a bounty of ten dollars offered to en- courage recruiting. About twenty-seven thousand men Avere finally collected. Little over half of these were fit for duty. One regiment, we read, had only ninety-seven fire- locks and seven bayonets. The officers, many of whom were grossly incompetent, wrangled about precedence. The soldiers mistook insubordination for independence. Sectional jealousies prevailed to such a degree that a let- ter of that time reports that the Pennsylvania and New England troops were quite as ready to fight each other as the enemy. The 1st of July, General Howe arrived at Staten Island from Halifax. Soon after, he was joined by his brother. Admiral Howe, from England, and Clinton, from the de- feat of Fort Moultrie. They had thirty thousand men, admirably disciplined and equipped ; among them about eight thousand of the dreaded Hessians. The fleet, con- sisting of ten ships-of-the-line, twenty frigates, and four hundred ships and transports, was moored in the bay, ready to co-operate. Parliament had authorized the Howes to treat with the insurgents. By pi-oclamation they ac- cordingly offered pardon for all who would return to their allegiance. This document was published by direction of Congress, that the people might see what England de- manded. An officer was then sent to the American camp with a letter addressed to '• George Washington, Esq." Washington refused to receive it. The address was after- ward changed to " George Washington, &c. &c." The mes- senger endeavored to show that this bore any meaning which might be desired. But Washington utterly refused Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 21 any communication which did not distinctly recognize his position as commander-in-chief of the American army. Lord Howe was evidently desirous of a restoration of peace. He solicited an interview with Franklin, an old- time friend ; but events had gone too far. England would not grant independence, and the colonies would accept nothing less. War must settle the question. It was not till the last of August that Clinton crossed over the Narrows to Long Island. Brooklyn was fortified by a series of intrenchments and forts extending from Gowanus Bay to Wallabout. Here were stationed about nine thousand men, under Generals Sullivan and Stirling. About two and a half miles south was a range of wooded heights traversed by three roads along which the British could advance ; one leading up directly from the Narrows and Gravesend to Gowanus Bay, a second from Flatbush, and a third, the Jamaica road, cutting through the hills by the Bedford and the Jamaica passes. General Greene, who was intimately acquainted with the ground, being im- fortunately sick, General Putnam was hastily sent over to take charge of the defence. General Stirling and General Sullivan occupied the' heights, but, by a fatal oversight, the Jamaica road was unguarded. The English were not slow to take advantage of the opportunity. On the eve of the 26th, General Clinton, with Percy and Cornwallis, crossed the narrow causeway called Shoe- maker's Bridge, over a marsh near New Lots, — where, it is said, a single regiment could have barred the way, — and before daylight had seized the Bedford and Jamaica passes, while the Americans were yet unconscious of his having left Flatlands. Meanwhile General Grant moved forward along the coast, on the direct road, from the Narrows up to the hills at present embraced in Greenwood Cemetery. Here there was considerable skirmishing, but Stirling held 22 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele him in check. Clinton, pushing down from the hills, now fell upon the American left, at Bedford. The sound of cannon in their rear filled the Americans with dismay. At that moment De Heister, with the Hessians, who had already begun to skirmish on the Flatbush road, stormed Sullivan's position. Eetreat was the patriots' only hope. It was, however, too late. Caught between the Hessians and the British, they were driven to and fro, cut down by the dragoons, or bayoneted without mercy by the Hessians and the Highlanders, who listened to no plea for quarter. Some took to the rocks and trees and sold their lives as dearly as they could; some broke through and escaped, pursued by the grenadiers to the American lines at Fort Putnam ; the rest were captured. Cornwallis hurried on with his coi'ps to close in upon G-eneral Stirling, who was yet unaware of the disaster upon his left, at the same time firing two guns as a signal for Grant to attack the front. Stirling, with a part of Small wood's regiment, composed of the sons of the best families of Maryland, turned upon this unexpected foe in his rear, determined by a heroic sacrifice to give the rest a chance for escape. He accomplished his design ; all his companions crossed Gowanus Creek in safety; but he himself was captured, and two hundred and fifty-nine of the Marylanders lay dead on the field. Washington be- held the fight from a neighboring hill, and, wringing his hands in agony, exclaimed, " What brave fellows I must lose this day!" It was a sad augury for the Eepublic which had just issued its Declaration of Independence. The British loss was but four hundred, and the American nearly two thou- sand. Of the latter, one thousand, who were with Gen- erals Sullivan and Stirling, were prisoners. The higher officers were soon exchanged, but the hard lot of the pri- Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW YORK. 23 vates and lower oflScers made the fate of those who per- ished in battle to be envied. Numbers were confined in the sugar-house and the old hulks at Wallabout, where afterward so many other American prisoners suffered untold agonies. Here, festering with disease, perishing with famine, and loathsome with filth, deprived of fresh air, water, and every necessary of life, eleven thousand Americans, it is said, found an untimely grave ere the war was over. Had Howe attacked the works at Brooklyn immedi- ately, the Americans would probably have been utterly destroyed. Fortunately, he delayed for the fleet to co- operate ; but an adverse wind prevented. For two days the patriots lay helpless, awaiting the assault. On the second night after the battle there was a dense fog on the Brooklyn side, while in New York the weather was clear. A little before midnight, the Americans moved silently down to the shore and commenced to cross the river, near what is now the Fulton Ferry. Everything was planned with Washington's peculiar precision. The guards, sen- tinels, and outer lines were ordered to remain quietly at their posts till the very last, that the enemy might suspect no movement. The stifled murmur of the camp, as each man took his place in silence for the march to the river- side, gradually died away in the distance. Suddenly the roar of a cannon burst upon the night-air. " The eff'ect," says an Amei-ican who was present, " was at once alarming and sublime. If the explosion was within our own lines, the gun was probably discharged in the act of spiking it, and could have been no less a matter of speculation to the enemy than to ourselves." The mystery of that midnight gun remains still unexplained. Fortunately, it failed to rouse the Bi-itish camp. Startled by this unexpected con- tre-temps, the men reached the shore. Washington, feeling 24 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele the urgent necessity for despatch^ sent one of his aides-de- camp to hurry up the troops in march. By mistake he gave the order to all who had been left behind. In the midst of embarrassment and confusion at the ferry, caused by the change of tide and of wind, which beat back the sail-boats, the whole rear-guard arrived. " Good God, General Mitflin!" cried Washington, "I fear you have ruined us by so unseasonably withdrawing the troops from the advance lines." Mifflin somewhat warmly explained that he had only followed orders. " It is a dreadful mis- take," exclaimed Washington ; " and unless you can regain the picket-lines before your absence is discovered, the most disastrous consequences may follow." Mifflin has- tened back, but again the dense fog and Providence had favored them, so that, though neai'ly an hour had inter- vened, the desertion of their posts had not been noticed by the enemy. At length their own time came, and the last boat pulled from the shore. The strain of the night w^as over, and the army was saved. " What with the greatness of the stake, the darkness of the night, the uncertainty of the design, and the extreme hazard of the issue," says one, " it would be difficult to conceive a more deeply solemn scene than had transpired." This timely deliverance moved every pious American heart to profoundest gratitude, for if once the English fleet had moved up the East Eiver and cut off commu- nication between Xew York and Brooklyn, nothing could have saved the army from capture. Howe, not supposing an escape possible, had taken no precautions against such an event. It is said that a tory woman sent her negro servant to inform the British of the movements of the patriot army, but he fell into the hands of the Hessians, who, not understanding a word of English, kept him until morning. After daybreak, and the fog had lifted, a Brit- Steele] THE CAPTURE OF NEW FORK. 25 ish captain, with a handful of men, stealthily crept down through the fallen trees, and, crawling over the intrench- ments, found them deserted. A troop of horse hurried to the river and captured the last boat, manned by three vasjabonds who had stayed behind for plunder. [Washington, conscious of his weakness, wished to evacuate the city, but Congress would not consent. During the interval Captain Nathan Hale, of Connecticut, visited the English camp as a spy, and was arrested on his way back by a tory relative, and handed over to Howe, who executed him the next morning.] Having occupied Buchanan's and Montressor's Islands, now Ward's and Eandall's, Clinton, with a heavy bod}- of troops, crossed the East Eiver under the fire of the fleet early Sunday morning, September 15, and landed at Kip's Bay, at the foot of the present Thirty-Fourth Sti"eet. The American troops at this point fled from the intrench- ments. It was all-important that the position should be held, as Putnam was in the city below with four thousand men, and time must be gained for them to escape. Wash- ington came galloping among the fugitives and rallied them. But when two- or threescore red-coats came in sight, they broke again without firing a shot, and scat- tered in the wildest terror. Losing all self-command at the sight of such cowardice, Washington dashed forward toward the enemy, exclaiming, " Are these the men with whom I am to defend America ?" General Greene writes of this scene, that the poltroons " left his Excellency on the ground, within eighty yards of the enemy, so vexed at the infamous conduct of his troops that he sought death rather than life." He might, indeed, have fallen into the hands of the British, so overcome was he by the dastardly conduct of his soldiers, had not an aide-de-camp seized his horse by the bridle and hurried him away. Eallying his II.— B 3 26 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Steele self-possession, WashiDgtou hastened to look after the safety of the rest of his army. It was a moment of ex- treme peril. Fortunately, on landing, Howe, Clinton, and some others called at the house of Eobert Murray for ro freshments. The owner, who was a Quaker, was absent, but his wife, a stanch whig, regaled them with such an abundance of cake and wine, and listened with such ad- mirable attention to their humorous descriptions of her countrymen's panic, that their appetite and vanity got the better of their judgment and kept them long at her delightful entertainment. Meanwhile, Putnam was hurry- ing his men along the Bloomingdale road, not a mile dis- tant, under a burning sun, through clouds of dust, and liable at any moment to be raked by the fire of the Eng- hsh ships anchored in the Hudson. Thanks to the wit of the good Mrs. Murray, the British troops came up only in time to send a few parting shots at their rear-guard. Washington collected his army on Harlem Heights. That night the wearied troops lay on the open ground, in the midst of a cold, driving rain, without tent or shelter. Anxious to encourage his disheartened men, Washington, the same evening, ordered Silas Talbot, in charge of a fire- ship in the Hudson, to make a descent upon the English fleet. Accordingly, this brave captain, dropping down with the tide, steered his vessel alongside the Renomme. Stopping to grapple his antagonist surely, and to make certain of firing the trains of powder, he was himself fearfully burned before he could drop into the water. It was an awful scene. The British ships poured their broad- sides upon his little boat as he was rapidl}^ rowed away, while huge billows of flame bursting out from the fire- ship lighted up the fleet and the harbor with terrible dis- tinctness. From every side boats put off" to the rescue of the endangered vessel, which was finally bx'ought safely Carkington] the victory AT TRENTON. 27 away. But the entire British fleet slipped their moorings and quitted the stream. [Shortly after the entrance of the British into New York a fire broke out which destroyed five hundred houses and reduced their hopes of warm winter-quarters. "Washington fortified himself on Harlem Heights. But his army was in a deplorable state, and on the verge of dissolution, the term of service of the men being nearly expired, while f.hey were so disheartened as to desert by hundreds, whole regiments returning home. Howe made an effort to get into the rear of the Americans, which his watchful foe negatived by a hasty retreat to White Plains. Here the British made an attack, resulting in a minor advantage. Soon afterwards Washington retreated to the heights of North Castle, and after a short interval crossed with his main body to the Highlands, being apprehensive that the British might invade New Jersey and perhaps seek to capture Philadelphia.] THE VICTORY AT TRENTON. HENRY B. CARRIXGTON. [The withdrawal of Washington to the Highlands left the garri- sons at Forts Washington and Lee in a position of great insecurity. General Greene had persisted in retaining the garrison in Fort Wash- ington, and had induced Congress to order its continued occupation, despite the remonstrances of Washington. The result justified the fears of the commander-in-chief. Howe invested the fort, and be- sieged it with such vigor that its brave commander was obliged to surrender. The besiegers lost nearly a thousand men in killed and wounded, the Americans one hundred and forty-nine : much valu- able artillery and a large number of small-arms were captured, and more than twenty-six hundred prisoners taken. An advance was next made on Fort Lee, which lay on the New Jersey side of the Hudson, about ten miles above the city. The garrison of this stronghold escaped certain capture by a hasty withdrawal, but much valuable material was abandoned to the enemy. These were serious disasters 28 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrington to the American army, and Washington found himself obliged to retreat step by step through New Jersey, followed by the victorious foe. Fortunately for him, the Howes divided their forces, a strong expedition being sent to Newport, for the capture of the island of Rhode Island, the unimportant occupation of which employed a large body of troops for three years. Washington, after facing his foe at every step, was finally forced by superior numbers to cross the Delaware, on which he destroyed or secured every boat for a distance of seventy miles, to prevent the enemy from following. Howe reached Trenton on the 8th of Decem- ber, just in time to see the last of the Americans safely pass the river. Meanwhile, General Lee, who had been left in command on the Hudson, delayed his march to Washington's aid, despite the urgency of the latter, and, while carelessly passing the night at a distance from his force, was taken prisoner by some British dragoons. " No hope remained to the United States but in Washington. His retreat ot ninety miles through the Jerseys, protracted for eighteen or nineteen days, in winter, often in sight and within cannon-shot of his enemies, his rear pulling down bridges and their van building them up, had for its purpose to effect delay till midwinter and impassable roads should offer their protection. The actors, looking back upon the crowded disasters which fell on them, hardly knew by what springs of animation they had been sustained." This retreat and pursuit threw the inhabitants of the then seat of government into the greatest dismay. There were British posts in New Jersey but little above Philadelphia, and ships of war were rumored to be in the bay. The inhabitants sent their wives and children, and portable valuables, from the city. The panic affected Congress, which body hastily voted to adjourn to Baltimore, their flight seriously in- juring the public credit and causing a fall in the value of the currency. Putnam held the city, which he was charged to hold to the last ex- tremity. General Howe, satisfied that the fight was thoroughly taken out of the American army, returned to his winter-quarters in New York, leaving Donop with two Hessian brigades and the Forty-Second Highlanders to hold the line from Trenton to Burlington. European confidence in the success of the British was at its height. "Franklin's troops have been beaten by those of the King of Eng- land," wrote Voltaire : "alas! reason and liberty are ill received in this world." Rockingham, Lord North, Burke, and other statesmen of England considered the resistance of the colonists nearly at an end. Carrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 29 In New York the young officers were preparing to amuse th'emselves with dramatic performances, while gambling served to fill the intervals between the frequent balls and parties. Cornwallis left Grant in com- mand in New Jersey, and was about to embark for England, as he considered the fighting at an end. All was confidence on the part of the invaders, gloom and depression on that of the Americans. Donop declared that Trenton should be protected by redoubts, but Eahl, who commanded that post, disdained the idea. There were rumors, indeed, that Washington was threatening Trenton, but no one believed them. " Let them come," said Eahl, valiantly : " what need of intrenchments ? We will at them with the bayonet." He neglected all proper measures of security, and spent his time in carousing, while the men under his command made the most of their opportunities for plundering. Tet he was not so secure as he imagined. Washington was less discouraged and less powerless than his enemies supposed. Perceiving that the forces of the enemy were scattered and careless, he resolved, on the 16th of December, to take advantage of the opportunity oflTered for a surprise. All the boats available were secured, and his forces, increased by fifteen hundred volunteers from Philadelphia, guarded all the crossing-places on the Delaware. While waiting for the proper time to put his scheme in execution, some reinforcements under Greene and Sullivan joined him. At length the chosen period arrived. We select from Carrington's " Battles of the American Revolution" a de- scription of the important events that succeeded.] On the twenty-fifth day of December, 1776, the regi- ments of Anspach, Knyphausen, and Eahl, with fifty chasseurs and twenty light dragoons, making a total ef- fective force of not quite fifteen hundred and fifty men, constituted the garrison at Trenton. The command had six pieces of artillery, including two in front of Colonel Eahl's quarters; but, contrary to the previous advice of Colonel Donop, there were neither field-works nor defence of any kind before the ferry or at any of the approaches to the town. One such work on the summit, at the fork of King and Queen's Streets, and one on Front Street, would have seriously endangered the American move- ir. 3* 30 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrington ment, especially under the circumstances of severe weather, which almost disarmed the assailants. It is well known that rumors of an impending offensive return by Washing- ton had reached Colonel Eahl, and that a small picket- guard had been stationed on the old Pennington road, half a mile beyond the head of King Street, and another was in position, equally advanced, upon the river road leading to the next upper, or McConkey's Ferry, past the houses of Eutherford and General Dickinson. It was Christmas day, a holiday in great favor with the troops which composed the garrison. It is profitless for the author's purpose to enter into details of the manner in which that garrison observed that holiday and spent the night which closed its enjoyment. It is enough to state that military negligence was absolute, and that it cost the commander his life. That negligence lasted through the night, and prevailed up to eight o'clock in the morning. It appears that the usual morning parade routine had been observed, and the men had returned to their barracks. These barracks, now cleft by a street, were still standing in 1875, and showed that they afforded a good defensive position, if promptly occupied and firmly held. The disposition of the American army for the attack was eminently bold and judicious. Grifiin was expected still to occupy the attention of Donop, as if the demon- strations across the river were but the feverish action of local militia. A small centre column, under General James Ewing, of Pennsylvania, whose brigade reported but five hundred and forty-seven rank and file for duty, was to cross just below Trenton, to occupy the bridge across the Assanpink, and thus sever communication with Donop's corps at Bordentown. Still further down the river, as a constraint upon the possible movement of that corps to the support of Colonel Eahl, the right wing under Colonel Carrikgton] the victory AT TRENTON. 31 John Cadwallader, not 3'et promoted, was ordered to cross at Bristol, below Bordentown, with view to a direct attack upon Donop from the south, and thus co-operate with the militia in that quarter. General Washington reserved for himself the conduct of the left wing, consisting of twenty- four hundred men, which was to cross nine miles above Trenton, at McConkey's Ferry. Learning that Maiden- head was almost without garrison, except a troop of dra- goons, it was the purpose of the American commander also to include that sub-post within his raid. It was also expected that Genei'al Putnam would cross from Philadelphia early on the twenty-sixth, with at least a thousand men. The plan embraced the entire deliver- ance of the left bank of the Delaware. The right wing landed a portion of its troops, but, on account of the ice, could not land the artillery, and re- turned to Bristol. Cadwallader expressed his great regret in his report to Washington, remarking, "I imagine the badness of the night must have prevented you from pass- ing over as you intended." It was not until four o'clock that Cadwallader succeeded in regaining Bristol ; and Moylan, who then started to join Washington, found the storm so violent that he abandoned his purpose, believing that that officer could not possibly effect a crossing. The centre column failed to effect a landing for the same reason. The left wing of the army under Washington, accom panied by Greene and Sullivan as division commanders, formed evening parade under cover of the high ground just back of McConkey's Ferry, now known as Taylorville. It was designed to move as soon as darkness set in, so as to complete the crossing at midnight, and enter Trenton as earl}' as five o'clock on the morning of the twenty- sixth. 32 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cakrixgton It was such a night as cost Montgomery and Arnold their fearful experience under the rock of Quebec. It was cold, snowy, and tempestuous. A few days of milder weather had opened the ice; now it was again rapidly freezing, checking the current and skirting the shore. The scanty protection of blankets was as nothing to protect men in such- a conflict. There were young volun- teers from Philadelphia in that command, going forth for the fii-st time to study war. There were nearly ragged and shoeless veterans there, who had faced such storms, and the fiercer storms of war, before. Stark, of Breed's Hill, was there. G-lover, the man of Marblehead, a hero of the Long Island retreat, and Webb and Scott, and Wil- liam Washington and James Monroe, were there. Brain and courage, nerve and faith, were there. Washington's countersign of the twenty-third, " Victory or death,'' was In the inner chambers of manj^ souls, guarding manhood, quickening conscience, and defying nature. This was all because the path of duty was so well defined. The order to embark and cross over had been given. It was short, and made no allusion to the swift current, the cold or snow. These were almost negative facts, circumstances of delay and discomfoi't, but could not set aside duty. Those men had been retreating, and had rested on the bank of the Delaware, almost hopeless of better times. They were now faced upon their late pursuers. The " man of re- treats" and temporary positions was in his fighting mood, and men went with him, counting no impediments and sternly in earnest. " As severe a night as I ever saw," wrote Thomas Eod- ney; "the frost was sharp, the current difficult to stem, the ice increasing, the wind high, and at eleven it began to snow." The landing of the artillery was not efi'ected until three Oarrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 33 o'clock, but the army did not march until four. Eetreat could not be made without discovery, annoyance, and con sequent disheartening of his troops, and, late as it was, the advance was ordered. The snow ceased, but sleet and hail came fiercely from the northeast, as the march began. A mile and a quarter from the landing brought them to Bear Tavern, where they reached the direct river road to Trenton. Three miles and a half moi'e brought them to Birmingham. Sullivan here notified Washington by a messenger that the men reported their " arms to be wet." "Tell your general," said Washington, "to use the bayo- net and penetrate into the town. The town must be taken. I am resolved to take it." Here the army divided. Sullivan's division moved at once, by the river road, toward Trenton, then only four and a half miles distant. Washington, with Greene, took direction to the left, crossed over to the old Scotch road, and entered the Pennington road one mile from town. This route was about equally distant with the other from the points aimed at by the respective divisions. Washing- ton's division, as he says, " arrived at the enemy's advanced post exactly at eight o'clock ; and three minutes after, I found from the fii"e on the lower road that that division had also got up." The pickets on both roads behaved well, but were quickly swept away by the force which already hastened to its achievement. Washington moved directly to the junction of King and Queen Streets. The flying pickets had already given the alarm, and the Hessians were beginning to rally within sight, as he rode in advance. Under his direction Colonel Knox placed Forrest's bat- tery of six guns in position so as to command both streets, which there diverged at a very acute angle, — Queen Street running southward to the Assanpink. and King Street in- ir. — c 34 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrixgton dining east of south, to the crossing of Second and Front Streets, by which Sullivan must approach. Colonel Eahl occupied the largo frame house of Stacy Potts, near where' Perry Street joins King Street. He promptly put himself at the head of a hastily-gathered detachment for the pur- pose of advancing up King Street to its summit, but Cap- tain Forrest's battery of six guns had already opened fire. The regiment of Knyphausen attempted to form in open ground between Queen Street and the Assanpink, while a third detachment, completely demoralized, moved rapidly toward the Princeton road to escape in that direction. This last detachment was met by Colonel Hand's rifle bat- talion, which had been deployed to Washington's left, as a guard upon that possible line of retreat, as well as to watch the approaches from Princeton. Scott's and Lawson's Yir- ginia battalions had been thrown still further to the left, thus completely closing the gap between Hand and the Assanpink Eiver. While Rahl was gathering his own companies as rapidly as possible, the two guns at his head-quarters had been partially manned and wei-e read}^ to deliver fire ; when Captain Washington, with Lieutenant James Monroe and an active party, rushed upon the gunners and brought away the pieces before a sufficiently strong infantry sup- port could be brought up for their protection. Eahl moved his companies as soon as formed, and joined Knyp- hausen's regiment, but almost immediately moved back for the cover which the buildings afforded. Galloway, Stedman, and some other early writers have alleged that the Hessians returned to load wagons and carry off their accumulated plunder. It is difficult to regard such statements as other than traditional fables. Individuals may have tried to save their effects, but there was very little time to spare for that business, and Colonel Carringtox] the victory AT TRENTON. 35 Eahl was too strict a soldiei' to have permitted it at such a moment. Captain Forrest's guns swept the open ground as well as the streets, and the adjoining orchard was equally un- tenable, hopelessly exposing the men to a fire which could not be returned. Two of the guns which wore afterwards taken seem to have been cut off from the reach of the Hessians when they were themselves drifted eastward from' their magazine and barracks by the American con- trol of both King and Queen Streets ; and two guns with the Knyphausen regiment were of little service. General Sullivan's division entered the town through Front and Second Streets. Colonel Stark, who led the column, moved directly to the Assanpink bridge, to cut off retreat toward Bordentovvn, but the chasseurs, the light horse, and a considerable infantry force, at least two hundred men, had already crossed the bridge in retreat upon that post. St. Clair took possession of the foot of Queen Street, and as Stark swung round and moved up the Assanpink the Hessians were literally between two fires, while the addi- tional enfilading fire upon the streets closed their left, and the Assanpink closed their right. For a short time small parties of Hessians who had been unable to join their companies kept up a fruitless scattering fire from houses where they had taken refuge ; but the fall of Colonel Eahl while urging his men to as- sault the summit where Washington controlled the action, and the advance of Sullivan's division, which shut up all avenues of escape to Bordentown, forced the Hessians out of the town to the open field and orchard, where the whole command surrendered. The American casualties were two killed and three wounded. Captain Washington and Monroe being among the latter. Several were badly frozen, — in two instances 36 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Carrinoton resulting fatally. The Hessian casualties were given by- General Howe as forty men killed and wounded, besides officers ; and nine hundred and eighteen prisoners were taken, of whom thirty were officers. Subsequently, a lieu- tenant-colonel, a deputy adjutant-general, and scattering members of the Hessian corps were taken, making the total number of prisoners, as reported by "Washington on the twenty-eighth of December, about one thousand. The trophies of war were six bronze guns, four sets of colors, over a thousand stand of arms, twelve drums, many blankets, and other garrison supplies. General Howe says, " This misfortune seems to have proceeded from Colo- nel Eahl's quitting the post and advancing to the attack, instead of defending the village." The fact is overlooked that Washington's position at the head of King and Queen Streets with artillery, which commanded both streets, afforded a very poor opportunity for the surprised Hes- sians. The more men they gathered in those narrow streets, the better it was for American artillery practice. Eahl followed the instincts of a soldier, and, as he had not the force to assault the enemy and dispossess them of their commanding positions, he sought ground where he could form his command and fight as he could get oppor- tunity. The movement of Washington which threw Hand, Scott, and Lawson to the left, together with his superiority in artillery, and the pressure of Sullivan's division from the rear through Second Street, forced Colonel Eahl to his fate. His mistakes had been made before the alarm of battle recalled him to duty ; and then he did all that time and Washington permitted. The disparity in casualties is accounted for by the facts stated. The American artil- lery had its play at will beyond musket-range and upon higher ground, with little chance for the Hessians to ren- der fire in return. A few skilfully-handed guns determined Carrington] the victory AT TRENTON. 37 the action. Washington on this occasion evinced the force of individual will applied, under extreme necessity, to a determining issue. The battle occupied less than one hour. Its fruit was like the grain of mustard-seed which devel- oped a tree under whose branches a thousand might take shelter. He marched back to Newtown with prisoners of war, reaching head-quarters the same night; a new ex- perience for the American army. This countermarch was attended with great hardships and suffering. The entire distance marched by the troops which left Newtown with Washington was nearly thirty miles, before they again reached their camp, and more than a thousand men were practically disabled for duty through frozen limbs and broken-down energies. [The events that succeeded this important victory may be briefly stated. Washington's good fortune having brought him in reinforce- ments of militia, and induced some of his men whose term was about expiring to remain six weeks longer, he recrossed to Trenton on De- cember 28. The British were now in force at Princeton. On January 2, Cornwallis reached Trenton with a strong army. Washington lay intrenched on the east side of the creek, with about five thousand men. The British threatened an attack the next day, in which defeat would have been ruinous to the Americans, since the ice in the Delaware rendered it nearly impassable in the face of an active foe. Washing- ton accordingly devised a stratagem which proved highly successful. Kindling his camp-fires, and leaving guards and sentinels, he de- camped that night with his whole army, and reached Princeton the next morning, about the time that Cornwallis discovered his disap- peai-ance. Here he met and defeated a body of soldiers, but, finding that Cornwallis was marching hastily back, and fearing to be caught between two fires with a worn-out army, he abruptly left that locality, and marched towards Morristown, while the British hastened to New Brunswick, to save their stores. Washington soon took the field again, and overran all northern New Jersey, while Howe's army became con- fined to the two posts of Amboy and New Brunswick. The people of New Jersey, who had been cruelly abused by the invaders, now retali- II. 4 38 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta ated by a guerilla warfare, cutting off outposts, attacking stragglers, and so annoying the British that they hardly dared venture beyond their lines.] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. CHARLES BOTTA. [The active military operations of the year 1777 in the North were matched by as active ones in the Middle States, though the latter did not end so successfully for the American cause. In the early part of the year, as we have seen, "Washington had regained possession of New Jersey, and closed the avenue to Philadelphia by that route. Half the year was occupied by Howe in vain endeavors to bring Washing- ton to a general engagement. Failing in this, he withdrew all his forces from New Jersey, and began extensive preparations for a sea- expedition, whose object it was not easy to ascertain. Washington, however, believed it to be the capture of Philadelphia, and made en- ergetic preparations for the defence of that city. Howe set sail from Sandy Hook on the 23d of July with a large and well-appointed army, leaving a strong garrison to hold New York. Ehode Island was also strongly garrisoned. Yet about this time an adventure of striking boldness occurred on that island. General Prescott, who com- manded the Ehode Island forces, had become very negligent of his guard, under assurance of perfect safety. In consequence, on the 10th of July, a party of militia secretly landed on the island and carried him off prisoner from the midst of his army. This exploit gave the greatest satisfoction to the Americans, who hoped to exchange this prisoner for General Lee, who had been captured in much the same manner. About this time several French officers of distinction entered the service of the United States, principal among them being the Marquis de Lafayette, a young nobleman of the highest rank, and for whom Washington ever afterwards felt the warmest friendship. The inten- tions of Howe for some time remained doubtful. His fleet kept at sea, off the coast, and Washington was in doubt whether its destination was Delaware or Chesapeake Bay, or whether it might return to the BRIDGE CROSSED BY WASHINGTON'S ARMY. BoTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 39 Hudson or assail Charleston. The Delaware had been rendered im- passable by obstructions, and all doubt was finally ended by the ap- pearance of the fleet in the Chesapeake. It was now the last of August, the fleet having been baffled and delayed by persistent con- trary winds. On the 25th of August the British army, eighteen thousand strong, landed near the head of Elk River, in Maryland. Washington, who had advanced beyond Wilmington, retreated before this superior force, and took up a position behind the Brandywine, where he designed to make a stand for tbe defence of Philadelphia. The story of the subsequent events we select from a well-known and valuable work on American history by an Italian author, Botta's " History of the War for Independence of the United States of America," as translated by George A. Otis.] Early in the morning of the eleventh of September the British army marched to the enemy. Howe had formed his army in two columns, the right commanded by General Knj^phausen, the left by Lord Cornwallis. 'His plan was, that while the first should make repexited feints to attempt the passage of Chadsford, in order to occupy the attention of the republicans, the second should take a long circuit to the upper part of the river, and cross at a place where it was divided into two shallow streams. . . . Knyphausen advanced with his column, and commenced a furious can- nonade upon the passage of Chadsford, making all his dis- positions as if he intended to force it. The Americans de- fended themselves with gallantry, and even passed several detachments of light troops to the other side, in order to harass the enemy's flanks. But after a course of skir- mishes, sometimes advancing, and at others obliged to retire, they were finally, with an eager pursuit, driven over the river. Knyphausen then appeared more than ever determined to pass the ford ; he stormed, and kept up an incredible noise. In this manner the attention of the Americans was fully occupied in the neighborhood of Chadsford. Meanwhile, Lord Cornwallis, at the head of 40 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta the second column, took a circuitous march to the left, and gained unperceived the forks of the Brandy wine. By this rapid movement he passed both branches of the river at Trimble's and at Jeffery's Fords, Avithout opposition, about two o'clock in the afternoon, and then, turning short down the river, took the i-oad to Dilworth, in order to fall upon the right flank of the American army. The repub- lican general, however, received intelligence of this move- ment about noon, and, as it usually happens in similar cases, the reports exaggerated its importance exceedingly, it being represented that General Howe commanded this division in person. Washington therefore decided imme- diately for the most judicious, though boldest, measure: this was, to pass the river with the centre and left wing of his army, and overwhelm Knyphausen by the most furious attack. He justly reflected that the advantage he should obtain upon the enemy's right would amply com- pensate the loss that his own might sustain at the same time. Accordingly, he ordered General Sullivan to pass the Brandywine with his division at an upper ford and attack the left of Knyphausen, while he, in person, should cross lower down and* fall upon the right of that general. [This operation was checked by the arrival of a new report, to the efl'ect that the previous information was false. "Washington was thus kept in uncertainty till it was too late to make any decisive movement. On learning that the enemy was really approaching in force, he hastily made preparations to meet this imminent danger.] But the column of Cornwallis was already in sight of the Americans. Sullivan drew up his troops on the com- manding ground above Birmingham meeting-house, with his left extending towards the Brandywine, and both his flanks covered with very thick woods. His artillery was advantageously planted upon the neighboring hills. But Botta] the capture OF PHILADELPHIA. 41 it apj)ears that Sullivan's own brigade, having taken a long circuit, arrived too late upon the field of battle, and had not yet occupied the position assigned it, when the action commenced. The English, having reconnoitred the dispositions of the Americans, immediately formed, and fell upon them with the utmost impetuosity. The engage- ment became equally fierce on both sides about four o'clock in the afternoon. For some length of time the Americans defended themselves with great valor, and the .carnage was terrible. But such was the emulation which invigo- rated the eff'orts of the English and Hessians [between whom a feeling of rivalry existed] that neither the advan- tages of situation, nor a heavj^ and well-supported fire of small-arms and artillery, nor the unshaken Coui*age of the Americans, were able to resist their impetuosity. The light infantry, chasseurs, grenadiers, and guards threw themselves with such fury into the midst of the republican battalions that the}^ were forced to give way. Their left flank was first thrown into confusion ; but the rout soon became general. The vanquished fled into the woods in their rear : the victors pursued, and advanced by the great road towards Dilworth. On the first fire of the artiller}", Washington, having no doubt of what was passing, had pushed forward the reserve to the succor of Sullivan. But this corps, on approaching the field of battle, fell in with the flying soldiers of Sullivan, and perceived that no hope remained of retrieving the fortunes of the day. General Greene, by a judicious manoeuvre, opened his ranks to re- ceive the fugitives, and after their passage, having closed them anew, he retired in good order, checking the pursuit of the enemy by a continual fire of the artillery which covered his rear. Having come to a defile, covered on both sides with woods, he drew up his men there, and again faced the enemy. II. 4* 42 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta [Knyphausen now prepared to convert his feint into a real crossing of the river.] The passable of Chadsford was defended by an intrench- ment and battery. The republicans stood firm at first ; but upon intelligence of the defeat of their right, and seeing some of the British troops who had penetrated through the woods come out upon their flank, they re- tired in disorder, abandoning their artillery and munitions to the German general. In their retreat, or rather flight, they jmssed behind the position of Groneral Greene, who still defended himself, and was the last to quit the field of battle. Finally, it being already dark, after a long and obstinate conflict, he also retired. The whole army retreated that night to Chester, and the day following to Philadelphia. There the fugitives arrived incessantly, having eff'ected their escape through by-ways and circuitous routes. The victors passed the night on the field of battle. If dark- ness had not arrived seasonably, it is very probable that the whole American army would have been destroyed. The loss of the republicans was computed at about three hundred killed, six hundred wounded, and near four hun- dred taken prisoners. They also lost ten field-pieces and a howitzer. The loss in the royal army was not in pro- portion, being something under five hundred, of which the slain did not amount to one-fifth. [The foreign officers, Count Pulaski, a noble Pole, Lafayette, Cap- tain De Fleury, and the Baron St. Ovary, were of great use to the Americans in this conflict. St. Ovary was taiten prisoner, and Lafa}'- ette wounded. The defeat did not discourage Congress, which had resumed its sessions in Philadelphia, nor Washington, who took active measures to retrieve his losses. Within a few daj's after the defeat he advanced again, and offered battle to the approaching enemy. But there came so violent a rainfall as seriously to injure the arms and BoTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 43 ammunition of the Americans, and Washington was forced to with- draw his army. Meanwhile, General Wayne was surprised by a night attack at Paoli, assailed with the bayonet, and had three hundred men killed out of a total of fifteen hundred. This assault, which was little else than a massacre, was long remembered with indignation by the Americans. Washington now, finding the extensive magazines of provisions and military stores which he had formed at Eeading threatened by the British, moved to cover them, and abandoned Philadelphia, which was occupied by the enemy on the 2Gth of Sep- tember. Congress adjourned to Lancaster. Yet Washington's activity continued unremitting. Batteries were erected on the Delaware, and obstructions sunlc, to prevent the British fleet from ascending the river. Learning that Howe had sent some regiments to reduce these batteries, Washington took the opportunity, on October 4, to fall upon the weakened British army, then encamped at Germantown.] Germantown is a considerable village, about half a dozen miles from Philadelphia, and which, stretching on both sides of the great road to the northward, forms a con- tinued street of two miles in length. The British line of encampment crossed Germantown at right angles about the centi-e, the left wing extending on the west from the town to the Sehuj-lkill. . . . The centre, being posted within the town, was guarded by the Fortieth Regiment, and another battalion of hght infantry, stationed about three-quarters of a mile above the head of the village. Washington resolved to attack the British by surprise, not doubting that if he succeeded in breaking them, as they were not only distant but totally separated from the fleet, his victory must be decisive. [He divided his troops, so as to make a double attack, with the pur- pose of separating the right and left wings of the British army. Par- ties of cavalry were sent out to scour the roads, to prevent any one from notifying Howe of the movement intended. A silent and rapid night march was made.] At three o'clock in the morning the British patrols di.s- 44 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta covered the approach of the Americans : the troops were soon called to arms ; each took his post with the precipi- tation of surprise. About sunrise the Americans came up. General Conway, having driven in the pickets, fell upon the Fortieth Eegiment and the battalion of light infantry. These corps, after a short resistance, being overpowered by numbers, were pressed and pursued into the village. Fortune appeared already to have declared herself in favor of the Americans ; and certainly, if they had gained complete possession of Germantown, nothing could have frustrated them of the most signal victory. But in this conjuncture Lieutenant-Colonel Musgrave threw himself, with six companies of the Fortieth Eegiment, into a large and strong stone house, situated near the head of the vil- lage, from which he poured upon the assailants so terrible a fire of musketry that they could advance no further. The Americans attempted to storm this unexpected covert of the enemy, but those within continued to defend them- selves with resolution. They finally brought up cannon to the assault; but such was the intrepidity of the English and the violence of their fire that it was found impossible to dislodge them. [Meanwhile, General Greene had assailed the left flank of the enemy's right wing ; but the columns which were to aid his movement by turn- ing the right and left flanks of the British army failed to perform the work expected of them.] The consequence was that General Grej', finding his left flank secure, marched, with nearly the whole of the left wing, to the assistance of the centre, which, notwithstand- ing the unexpected resistance of Colonel Musgrave, was excessively hard pressed in Germantown, where the Ameri cans gained ground incessantly. The battle was now very warm at that villao;e. the attack and the defence beinc: BOTTA] THE CAPTURE OF PHILADELPHIA. 45 alike vigorous. The issue appeared for some time dubious. General Agnew was mortally wounded, while charging, with great bravery, at the head of the Fourth Brigade. The American colonel Matthews, of the column of Greene, assailed the English with so much fury that he drove them before him into the town. He had taken a large number of prisoners, and was about entering the village, when he perceived that a thick fog and the unevenness of the ground bad caused him to lose sight of the rest of his division. Being soon enveloped by the extremity of the right wing, which fell back upon him when it had discovered that nothing was to be apprehended from the tardy approach of the militia of Maryland and Jersey, he was compelled to surrender with all his pai'ty : the English had alread}' rescued their prisoners. This check was the cause that two regiments of the English right wing were enabled to throw themselves into Germantown, and to attack the Americans who had entered it in flank. Unable to sustain the shock, they retired precipitately, leaving a great num- ber of killed and wounded. Lieutenant-Colonel Musgrave, to whom belongs the principal honor of this affair, was then relieved from all peril. General Grey, being absolute master of all Germantown, flew to the succor of the right wing, which was engaged with the left of the column of Greene. The Americans then took to flight, abandoning to the English throughout the line a victory of which in the commencement of the action they had felt assured. The princij^al causes of the failure of this well-concerted enterj^rise were the extreme haziness of the weather, which was so thick that the Americans could neither discover the situation nor movements of the British army, nor yet those of their own ; the inequality of the ground, which inces- santly broke the ranks of their battalions; . . . and, finally, the unexpected resistance of Musgrave, who found means, 46 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Botta in a critical moment, to transform a mere house into an impregnable fortress. [The American loss was about twelve hundred in killed, wounded, and prisoners; that of the English, about five hundred in killed and wounded. "Washington retreated immediately to Perkiomen Creek, while in a few days after the battle the British army was removed from Germantown to Philadelphia. Congress expressed warm appro- bation of the plan of action and the courage shown in its execution, and passed a vote of thanks to the general and the army. Washing- ton quickly advanced again to a threatening position at Skippack Creek.] Thus the British general might have seen that he had to grapple with an adversary who, far from allowing him- self to be discouraged by adverse fortune, seemed, on the contrary, to gain by it more formidable energies ; who, the moment after defeat, was prepared to resume the offensive ; and whose firmness and activity were such that even the victories obtained by his adversaries only j-ielded them the effects of defeat. Nor was the taking of Philadel- phia attended with those advantages which were expected from it- The inhabitants of the country were not in the least intimidated by that event ; and the victorious armj-, sur- rounded on. all sides by enemies, found itself, as it were, immured within the precincts of the city, Washington, posted on the heights of the Schuylkill, maintained a menacing attitude : he employed his cavalry and light troops in scouring the countrj- between the banks of that river and those of the Delaware. He thus repressed the excursions of the English, prevented them from foraging with safet}^, and deterred the disaffected or the avaricious among the people of the country from conveying provisions to their camp. [Howe, thus rendered unable to supply himself from the surround- Botta] the capture OF PHILADELPHIA. 47 ing country, diligently endeavored to remove the obstructions from the Delaware, that his fleet might come up. Arrangements were made for attacl^s in force on the batteries of Port Mifilin, on the Pennsyl- vania side, and of Fort Mercer, at Red Bank, on the Jersey shore.] According to these dispositions, the English put them- selves in motion on the evening of the twenty-fii'st of Oc- tober. Colonel Donop, a German officer, who had distin- guished himself in the course of the campaign, passed the Delaware from Philadelphia, with a strong detachment of Hessians, at Cooper's Ferry. Then marching down the Jersey shore, along the bank of the river, he arrived at a late hour the following day in the rear of Red Bank. The fortifications consisted of extensive outer works, within which was a strong palisaded intrenehment, well furnished with artillery. Donop attacked the fort with the utmost gallantry. The Americans, after a slight re- sistance in the outer intrenehment, finding their number too small to man it sufficientl}', withdrew into the body of the redoubt, where they made a vigorous defence. Their intrepidity and the want of scaling-ladders baffled all the efforts of the Hessians. Colonel Donop was mor- tally wounded and taken prisoner. Several of his best officers were killed or disabled ; Colonel Mingerode him- self, the second in command, received a dangerous wound. The Hessians were then severely repulsed ; and Lieuten- ant-Colonel Linsing drew them off w^ith precipitation ; but even in their retreat they suffered extremely by the fire of the enemy's galleys and floating batteries. The loss of the Hessians was estimated at not less than four or five hundred men. Donop expired of his wounds the next day. The Americans owed much of their success to the Chevalier du Plessis, a French officer, who directed the artillery with great ability and valor. The vanquished returned to Philadelphia. 48 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq [The attack on Fort Mifflin was at first unsuccessful, but a new attack rendered the fort untenable. Fort Mercer was soon after so injured by a severe bombardment that it was necessarily abandoned. The navigation of the Delaware was thus opened to the British ships. Washington's army at this time numbered over twelve thou- sand regulars, and three thousand militia. Howe had about twelve thousand men. The former took up a strong position at White Marsh, while Howe faced him on Chestnut Hill. Various unsuc- cessful eiforts were made by Howe to draw Washington from his intrenchments. Finally, as it appeared that the American general could not be induced to give battle, Howe withdrew to place his troops in winter-quarters in Philadelphia. Washington marched his army for the same purpose to Valley Forge. W^ith these movements the campaign of 1777 ended.] THE EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. BENSON J. LOSSING. [While Washington, in the early part of 1777, was boldly facing the enemy in New Jersey, afiiiirs of great importance were taking place in the North, which were destined to prove of the utmost ad- vantage to the American cause. The momentous expedition of Bur- goyne, which was actively preparing in the spring of that year, was preceded by several conflicts in New England, which may be briefly mentioned. General Try on, the recent royal governor of New York, landed in Connecticut on April 25, with two thousand men, marched on Danbury, destroyed the stores there, burned the town, and com- mitted many atrocities upon the inhabitants. In retiring he was assailed by the militia, in detachments under Arnold, Sullivan, and Wooster. The British were severely harassed, and lost nearly three hundred men before regaining their ships. Soon afterwards a party of Connecticut militia, under Colonel Meigs, surprised a force of the enemy at Sag Harbor, destroyed the stores collected there, burned a dozen vessels, and captured ninety prisoners, without having a single man killed or wounded. But the two great events of the year were LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 49 the advance of Howe upon Philadelphia, and Burgoyne's expedition from Canada, the latter of which now demands our attention. This expedition had been planned during the winter by the king, Lord George Germain, the colonial secretary, and General Burgoyne, and great hopes of success were entertained from it. Burgoyne, though a soldier of reputation, was not the proper man to command this ex- pedition, which should have been intrusted to Sir Guy Carleton, who had opened the way for it by his victory on Lake Champlain, and whose perfect acquaintance with the countrj^, the Canadians, and the Indians would have given him exceptional advantages in its prosecution. Burgoyne reached Quebec in March, 1777. Carleton, though an- noyed at being superseded, actively aided in preparing the expedition. Vessels were constructed, stores collected, and a force of seven thousand men mustered at St. Johns, at the foot of Lake Champlain, by the 1st of June. Colonel St. Leger, with seven hundred Bangers, was sent to Oswego, to march from that point, rouse the Indians, capture Fort Schuyler, sweep the valley of the Mohawk, and rejoin Burgoyne at Albany. On June 16, Burgoyne sailed for Crown Point, with seven thousand regulars and several thousand Canadians and Indians. Thence he marched upon Ticonderoga, held by General St. Clair with about thi'ee thousand men. St. Clair, finding resistance hopeless, essayed a secret retreat, but his movement was discovered, and active pursuit made, and as a result of his withdrawal from Ticonderoga to Fort Edward, on the Hudson, he lost nearly two hundred pieces of artillery, and a large quantity of stores and provisions. Port Edward was the head-quarters of the American army, then under General Schuyler. Having but little over four thousand men, and these in a wretched state as to arms, ammunition, clothing, and provisions, Schuyler found it necessary to retire. In doing so he destroyed the bridges and obstructed the roads by felling large trees, so that Burgoyne was unable to reach Port Edward until the 30th of July. Schuyler, meanwhile, had stationed himself at the mouth of the Mohawk, where he received reinforcements of militia and some detachments from the regular army, increasing his force to thirteen thousand men. The Polish hero Kosciusko was chief engineer of his army. In the mean time, St. Leger was advancing on the route laid down for him, towards Port Schuyler, his first point of attack. As the siege of this post proved to be an event of great importance, we select a description of it from Lossing's " Pield-Book of the Kevolution," in which it is detailed with the picturesque clearness of that able writer.] II. — c d 5 50 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossing In the spring of 1777, Colonel Peter Gansevoort was appointed to the command of Fort Schuyler, and held that post in the summer of that year, when Burgoyne was making his victorious march towards Albany by way of Lake Charaplain. ... As early as June, a man from Canada, arrested as a spy, had disclosed the fact that a detachment of British troops, Canadians, and Indians was to penetrate the country by way of Oswego and the Mohawk, to join Burgoyne when he should reach Albany. . . . Fort Schuyler was still unfinished, and feebly garri- soned, and certain discomfiture seemed to await the patriots in that region. Colonel Gansevoort, however, was vigilant, active, and hopeful. He wrote spirited letters to Gen- eral Schuyler, imploring aid, and that officer as urgently laid the condition of Tryon County before the Provincial Congress of 'New York, and also the General Congress. But it was then too late to expect succor from a distance, and the people of the Mohawk Valley were thrown upon their own feeble resources for defence. St. Leger and his Eangers, with the forces of Johnson, Claus, Butler, and Brant, were already in motion, and on the 1st of August the enemy, one thousand seven hundred strong, came up Oneida Lake, and near the ruins of old Fort Newport pre- pared to invest Fort Schuyler. The Indians were led by Brant [the celebrated Indian chief], and the whole be- leaguering force, at the beginning of the march at Oswego Falls, was disposed in admirable order for the journey through the forest. The main body was led by the Indians, under Brant, in five columns, four hundred and sixty paces in front of the advanced guard. The Indians marched in single file, at large distances apart. Between the five columns and the rear-guard a file of Indians, ten paces apai't, formed a line of communication. The ad- vanced guard was one hundred paces in front of the main AN AMERICAN RIFLEMAN. LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 51 column, which was disposed in Indian file, the right and left flanks covered by a file of savages. The rear-guard was composed of regular troops. . . . Each corps was furnished with practised marksmen at short intervals, who were ordered to concentrate their strength upon any point that might be attacked. [On the 2d of August the fort was reached, and its investment begun. On the 3d, St. Leger arrived with his whole force. The garri- son consisted of seven hundred and fifty men, who were well provided with provisions, and ammunition for small-arms, though deficient in ammunition for cannon, their most important means of defence. They were also without a flag, and were forced to make one out of bits of scarlet and blue clothing and white shirts, on the pattern adopted by Congress.] The siege commenced on the 4th. A few bombs were thrown into the fort, and the Indians, concealed behind trees and bushes, wounded several men who were employed in raising the parapets. Similar annoyances occurred on the 5th, and towards evening the Indians spread out through the woods, eneii'cled the fort, and, by hideous yells throughout the night, attempted to intimidate the garrison. St. Leger, confident of success, sent a despatch to Burgoyne at this juncture, expressing his assurance that Fort Schuyler would be in his possession directly, and the hope that they would speedily meet as victors at Albany. [In the mean time. General Herkimer was advancing to the aid of the garrison, with a force of more than eight hundred militia. He sent a messenger in advance, requesting Ganscvoort to signify his arrival by the discharge of three guns. But the messenger was de- layed, and the militia officers, full of ungoverned valor, so pressed their experienced leader to advance that he finally yielded to their im- portunity and taunts of cowardice, against his better judgment. He gave the word to " March on," but told those who had boasted of their courage that they would be the first to run at sight of the enemy.] 52 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossixa St, Leger had intelligence of the advance of Herkimer, and detached a division of Johnson's Greens, under Major Watts, GK)lonel Butler with his Eangers, and Brant with a strong body of Indians, to intercept him and prevent an attack upon his intrenchments. Before the arrival of Herkimer's messenger, Gansevoort had observed the silence of the enemy's camp, and also the movement of a portion of his troojjs along the margin of a wood down the river. The arrival of the courier dispelled all doubts as to the destination of the detachment, and the signal- guns were immediately fired. Herkimer had informed Gansevoort, by the messenger, that he intended, on hear- ing the signals, to cut his way to the fort through the circumvallating camp of the enemy, and requested him to make a sortie at the same time. This was done as soon as the arrangement could be made, and a detachment of two hundred men . . . was detailed for the purpose, who took with them an iron three-pounder. Fifty men were also added, to pi'otect the cannon, and to act otherwise as circumstances might require Rain was falling copi- ously while preparations for the sortie were in progi-ess, but the moment it ceased Willett sallied out and fell furi- ously upon that portion of the camp occupied by Sir John Johnson and his Royal Greens, a detachment of whom, as we have seen, had been sent to oppose the ap- proach of Herkimer. The advanced guard, unable to withstand the impetuosity of the attack, was driven in ; and so suddenly was Sir John's camp assailed that he was not allowed time to put on his coat. He endeavored to bring his troops into order, but they fled in dismay. The Indian camp was then assaulted, and in a few mo- ments the savages, too, were scattered. Sir John and his troops fled across the river, to the temporary camp of St. Leger, and the Indians buried themselves in the deep Lossikg] expedition AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 53 forest near. No less than twenty-one wagon-loads of spoil, consisting of clothing, blankets, stores, camp-equipage, five British standards, the baggage of Sir John, with all his papers, and those of other officers, containing every kind of information necessary to the gari'ison, were cap- tured. Having secured their prize, Willett and his party returned to the fort without the loss of a man. The five British colors were raised in full view of the enemy, upon the flag-staif, beneath the uncouth American standard, and the whole garrison, mounting the parapets, made the forest ring with three loud cheers. This chivalrous exploit was duly noticed by Congress, and an elegant sword was pre- sented to Colonel Willett in the name of the United States. General Herkimer, in the mean while, had moved from the mills, at the mouth of Oriskany Creek, toward the fort, entirely unconscious of the ambuscade that, in a deep ravine two miles distant, awaited his approach. The morning was dark, sultry, and lowering. His troops, com- posed chiefly of the militia regiments of Colonels Cox, Paris, Visscher, and Klock, were quite undisciplined, and their order of march was irregular and without precaution. The contentions of the morning had delayed their advance until about nine o'clock, and the hai'd feelings that existed between the commander and some of his ofiicers caused a degree of insubordination which proved fatal in its conse- quences. Brant and his tory associates had learned from their scouts the exact route the patriots had taken, and arranged an ambuscade accordingly. A deep ravine crossed the path of Herkimer in a north-and-south direction, ex- tending from the high grounds on the south to the river, and curved toward the east in a semicircular form. The bottom of this ravine was marshy, and the road crossed it by means of a causeway of earth and logs. On each side of the ravine the ground was nearly level, and heavily II. 5* 54 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq timbered. A thick growth of underwood, particular!}' along the margin of the ravine, favored concealment. It was upon the high ground on the western side of this ravine that the ambush of tories and Indians was laid, in such a manner that the causewa}^ was surrounded by them, as by a circle, leaving only a small segment open where the road entered. Unsuspicious of the proximitj' of the enemy, the whole body of provincials, except the rear-guard, composed of Visscher's regiment, descended into the ravine, followed by the baggage-wagons. Brant gave a signal, and in an instant the circle closed, the war- whoop was sounded, and spear and hatchet and deadly rifle-ball fell upon the patriots like hail from the clouds that hovered over them. The rear-guard, in fulfilment of Herkimer's prediction, instantly fled, and left their com- jmnions in the ravine to their fate. They were pursued by the Indians, and probably suff'ered more in their cow- ardly flight than if they had boldl}^ aided their environed companions in arms. This sudden onslaught produced great confusion in the patriot ranks, but they soon recovered, and fought with the courage and skill of veteran troops. The slaughter, however, was dreadful. Herkimer was severely wounded at the commencement of the action, and Colonel Cox and Captain Yan Slyk were killed at the fii"st fire. A musket- ball i^assed through and killed the horse of the general, and shattered his own leg just below the knee. With per- fect composure and cool courage, he ordered the saddle to be taken from his slaughtered horse and placed against a large beech-tree near. Seated there, with his men falling like autumn foliage, and the bullets of the enemy, like driving sleet, whistling around him, the intrepid general calmly gave his orders, and thus nobly rebuked the slan- derers who called him a cowai'd. LossiNGj EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 55 For nearly an hour the fierce action continued, and by slow degrees the enemy was closing in upon the republi- cans. The latter then made an admirable change in their method of repulsion. They formed themselves into cir- cles, and thus met the enemy at all points. Their fire became so destructive in this way that the Johnson Greens and a portion of Butler's tories attempted a bayonet- charge. This was promptl}' met by the patriots, and the battle assumed the terrible form of a death-struggle in close personal contact. ... At this moment a heavy thunder- peal broke over the forest, and the rain came down in such torrents that the combatants ceased their strife, and sought shelter beneath the trees. It was during this heavy shower that Willett made his preparations at the fort for the successful sortie just noticed; and, as soon as the rain subsided, he fell upon Johnson's camp, and the battle was renewed at Oriskany. During the lull in the conflict both parties viewed the ground, and made new arrangements for attack and de- fence. It had been observed by the patriots that the In- dians, as soon as they saw a gun fired by a provincial from behind a tree, would rush forward and tomahawk him before he could i^eload. To meet such an exigency in the renewed conflict, two men stood together behind a tree, and, while one fired, the other awaited the approach of the savage with his tomahawk, and felled him with his bullet. The provincials had also made choice of more advantageous ground, and soon after the renewal of the fight so destructive was their fire that the Indians began to give way. Major Watts came up with a detachment of Johnson's Greens to support them, but the presence of these men, mostly refugees from the Mohawk, made the patriots more furious, and mutual resentments, as the par- ties faced and recognized each other, seemed to give new 56 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossinq strength to their arms. They leaped upon each other with the fierceness of tigers, and fought hand to hand and foot to foot with bayonets and knives. It was a terrible struggle, and exhibited the peculiar cruelty and brutality which distinguishes civil war. A firing was now heard in the direction of the fort. It was the attack of Willett upon the enemy's camp. Col- onel Butler instantly conceived a stratagem, and was nearly successful in its execution. He so changed the dress of a detachment of Johnson's Greens that they appeared like American troops. These were made to approach from the direction of the fort, and were at first (as intended by Butler) mistaken by the patriots for a reinforcement from the garrison. But the quick eye of Captain Gardinier, an officer who performed deeds of great valor on that memorable day, discovered their real chai'acter, and, order- ing his men to fall upon these pretended friends, they were soon scattered in confusion. The Indians, finding their ranks greatly thinned, and the provincials still undismayed, raised the loud retreating crj', ^'■Oonah! Oonah !" and fled in all directions. The panic was communicated to the tories and Canadians, and the whole force of the enemy retreated in confusion, pursued by the provincials with shouts of victory. Thus, after a conflict of six hours, ended the battle of Oriskany, the bloodiest encounter, in proportion to the numbers engaged, that occurred during the war. [Neither party could claim a decisive victory, since, though the Americans held the field, they were unahle to relieve the fort, which was the object of their march. Both had suffered severely. General Herkimer died ten days after the battle. The garrison continued so closely environed that they were unable to gain correct intelligence of the result of the battle. St. Leger endeavored to deceive them, by sending in false representations of victory and of Burgoyne's success. In this he failed, and Gansevoort repelled his demands for a surrender LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 57 Yet, fearing that this would be his final fate, he sent messengers to General Schuyler, imploring succor. It was a dangerous mission, yet men were found willing to undertake it.] Colonel "Willett volunteered to be the messenger, and on a very stormy night, when shower after shower came down furiously, he and Lieutenant Slockwell left the fort by the sally-port at ten o'clock, each armed with a spear, and crept upon their hands and knees along a morass to the river. They crossed it upon a log, and were soon beyond the line of drowsy sentinels. It was very dark, their pathway was in a thick and tangled wood, and they soon lost their way. The barking of a dog apprised them of their proximity to an Indian canijD, and for hours they stood still, fearing to advance or retreat. The clouds broke away towards dawn, and the morning star in the cast, like the light of hope, revealed to them their desired course. They then pushed on in a zigzag way, and, like the In- dians, sometimes traversed the bed of a stream, to foil pursuers that might be upon their trail. They reached the German Flats in safety, and, mounting fleet horses, hurried down the valley to the head-quarters of General Schuyler, who had already heard of the defeat of Herkimer, and was devising means for the succor of the garrison at Fort Schuyler. St. Leger continued the siege. He advanced, by paral- lels, within one hundred and Mty yards of the fort, and the garrison, ignorant of the fate of Willett and Stockwell, or the relief that was preparing for them below, began to feel uneasy. Their ammunition and provisions being much reduced in quantity, some hinted an opinion to the commander that a surrender would be humane policy. Gansevoort's stout and hopeful heart would not yield admission to such an idea, and he informed the garrison that he had resolved, in case succor should not appear 58 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Lossing before their supplies were exhausted, to sally out at iiight and cut bis way tbrougb the enemy's camp. Suddenly, and mysteriously to the garrison, the besiegers broke up their camp, and fled so precipitately from before the fort that they left their tents, artillery, and camp-equipage behind them. [The m^'stery was soon solved. General Arnold had volunteered to lead a force to the relief of the fort. Fearing that it would be cap- tured before his main body could arrive, he pushed forward with a detachment, conceiving a stratagem which proved remai-kably success- ful. A tory prisoner, ignorant and half idiotic, named Hon- Yost Schuyler, had been condemned to death. Arnold promised him his life if he would go to St. Leger's camp and represent that a large host of Americans were approaching. He held his brother as a hostage, while Hon- Yost, with a friendly Oneida Indian, set out for St. Leger's camp.] Before leaving Fort Dayton, Hon-Yost had several bul- lets shot through his coat, and with these evidences of a " terrible engagement with the enemy" he appeared among the Indians of St. Leger's camp, many of whom knew him personally. He ran into their midst almost out of breath, and apparently much frightened. He told them that the Americans were approaching in great numbers, and that he had barely escaped with his life. His bullet- riddled coat confirmed the story. When they inquired the number of the Americans, he pointed to the leaves on the trees, and shook his head mysteriously. The Indians were greatlj' agitated. They had been decoyed into their present situation, and had been moody and uneasy since the battle of Oriskany. At the moment of Hon- Yost's arrival they were engaged in a I'eligious observance, — a consultation, through their prophet, of Manitou, or the Great Spirit, to supplicate his guidance and protection. The council of chiefs at the pow-wow at once resolved LossiNG] EXPEDITION AGAINST FORT SCHUYLER. 59 upon flight, and told St. Leger so. He sent for and ques- tioned Hon- Yost, who told him that Arnold, with two thousand men, would be upon him in twenty-four hours. At that moment, according to arrangement, the friendly Oneida, who had taken a circuitous route, approached the camp from another direction, with a belt. On his way he met two or three straggling Indians of his tribe, who joined him, and they all confirmed the story of Hon- Yost. They pretended that a bird had brought them the news that the valley below was swarming with warriors. One said that the army of Burgoyne was cut to pieces, and another told St. Leger that Arnold had three thousand men near. They shook their heads mysteriously when questioned about numbers by the Indians, and pointed, like Hon-Yost, upward to the leaves. The savages, now thoroughly alarmed, prepared to flee. St. Leger tried every means, by offers of bribes and promises, to induce them to remain, but the panic, and suspicion of foul pla}', had determined them to go. He tried to make them drunk, but they refused to drink. He then besought them to take the rear of his army in retreating: this they refused, and indignantly said, " You mean to sacrifice us. When you marched down, you said there would be no fighting for us Indians ; we might go down and smoke our pipes ; whereas numbers of our warriors have been killed, and you mean to sacrifice us also." The council broke up, and the Indians fled. The panic was communi- cated to the rest of the camp, and in a few hours the beleaguering army was flying in terror towards their boats on Oneida Lake. Hon-Yost accompanied them in their flight as far as "Wood Creek, where he managed to desert. He found his way back to the fort that night, and was the first to communicate to Colonel Gansevoort the intelli- gence of Arnold's approach. The Indians, it is said, made 60 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy themselves merry at the precipitate flight of the whites, who threw away their arms and knapsacks, so that noth- ing should impede their progress. The savages also grati- fied their passion for murder and plunder by killing many of their retreating allies on the borders of the lake, and stripping them of every article of value. They also plun- dered them of their boats, and, according to St. Leger, " be- came more formidable than the enemy they had to expect." Half starved and naked, the whites of the scattered army made their way to Oswego, and, with St. Leger, went down Ontai'io to Canada. . . . Thus ended the siege of Fort Schuyler, in the progress of which the courage, en- durance, and skill of the Americans, everywhere so re- markable in the Eevolution, were fully displayed. THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. SIR EDWARD S. CREASY. [The story of Burgoyne's expedition we have already partly told, in the fate of its detachment against Fort Schuyler. The main army we have traced in its course as far as Fort Edward. So far it had met with uniform success. It was now destined to encounter irrepa- rable misfortunes. Its commander, General Burgojme, had gained a degree of celebrity by dashing exploits in Portugal during the late war in that region. Personally he was distinguished for courage, was an admirable tactician, and was intellectually a very able man. Among his officers were Generals Phillips and Fraser, both able and experi- enced soldiei-s. His army was a fine one, well appointed, and rein- forced by a large force of Canadians and Indians whom he had called to his aid. General Schuyler, who commanded against him, was re- moved before the two armies came to blows, and replaced by General Gates. Meanwhile, Sir Henry Clinton was ascending the Hudson, with the purpose of making connection with Burgoyne, and thus as- Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 61 suring the success of the important enterprise. The succeeding events we select from the admirable " Fifteen Decisive Battles of the World," by Sir Edward Creasy.] The war which rent away the North American colonies from England is, of all subjects in histoiy, the most pain- ful for an Englishman to dwell on. It was commenced and carried on by the British ministry in iniquity and folly, and it was concluded in disaster and shame. But the contemplation of it cannot be evaded by the historian, however much it may be abhorred. Nor can any military event be said to have exercised more important influence on the future fortunes of mankind than the complete de- feat of Burgoyne's expedition in 1777, — a defeat which rescued the revolted colonists from certain subjection, and which, by inducing the courts of France and Spain to attack England in their behalf, insured the independence of the United States, and the formation of that trans- Atlantic power which not only America but both Europe and Asia now see and feel [Seven thousand veterans were sent out from England for this ex- pedition, which was accompanied by two or three thousand Canadians and a large body of Indians, whom Burgoyne had induced to join his army.] It was intended that the force thus collected should march southward by the line of the lakes, and thence along the banks of the Hudson Eiver. The British army from New York (or a large detachment of it) was to make a simultaneous movement northward, up the line of the Hudson, and the two expeditions were to unite at Albany, a town on that river. By these operations, all communi- cation between the Northern colonies and those of the centre and South would be cut off". An irresistible force would be concentrated, so as to crush all further opposition in New England ; and when this was done, it was believed ir. 6 62 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy that the other colonies would speedily submit. The Americans had no troops in the field that seemed able to baffle these movements. Their principal army, under Washington, was occupied in watching over Pennsylvania and the South. At any rate, it was believed that, in order to oppose the plan intended for the new campaign, the insurgents must risk a pitched battle, in which the supe- riority of the royalists, in numbers, in discipline, and in equipment, seemed to promise to the latter a crowning victory. Without question, the plan was ably formed; and had the success of the execution been equal to the ingenuity of the design, the reconquest or submission of the thirteen United States must in all probability have followed, and the independence which they proclaimed in 1776 would have been extinguished before it existed a second year. No European power had as yet come for- ward to aid America. It is true that England was gen- erally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought to have acquired, at the treaty of Paris, a preponderance of dominion which was pei*ilous to the balance of power; but, though many were willing to wound, none had yet ventured to strike ; and America, if defeated in 1777, would have been suffered to fall unaided. ;!< >;< ;i< :^ :^ :4; >1< Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson Eiver on the 30th of July. Hitherto he had overcome every diffi- culty which the enemy and the nature of the country had placed in his way. His army was in excellent order and in the highest spirits, and the peril of the expedition seemed over when they were once on the bank of the river which was to be the channel of communication be- tween them and the British army in the South. [The success of this march had been viewed by the Americans with the greatest alarm, and every effort was made to raise an army to repel the triumphant foe.] Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 63 The local governments of the New England States, as well as the Congress, acted with vigor and firmness" in their efforts to repel the enemy. General Gates was sent to take the command of the army at Saratoga; and Ar- nold, a favorite leader of the Americans, was despatched by Washington to act under him, with reinforcements of troops and guns from the main American army. Bur- goyne's employment of the Indians now produced the worst possible effects. Though he had labored hard to check the atrocities which they were accustomed to com- mit, he could not prevent the occurrence of many barbar- ous outrages, repugnant both to the feelings of humanity and to the laws of civilized warfare. The American com- manders took care that the reports of these excesses should be circulated far and wide, well knowing that they would make the stern New Englanders not droop, but rage. . . . While resolute recruits, accustomed to the use of fire- arms, and all partially trained by service in the provincial militias, were flocking to the standard of Gates and Ar- nold at Saratoga, and while Burgoyne was engaged at Fort Edward in providing the means for the further ad- vance of his army through the intricate and hostile coun- try that still lay before him, two events occurred, in, each of which the British sustained loss and the Americans obtained advantage, the moral effects of which wei'e even more important than the immediate result of the en- counters. . . . [One of these events was that last described, the siege and relief of Fort Schuyler. The panic flight of St. Leger's force was the first check to the triumphant march of the enemy.] At the very time that General Burgoyne heard of this disaster he experienced one still more severe, in the defeat of Colonel Baura, with a Xqxsq detachment of German 64 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy troops, at Bennington, whither Burgoyne had sent them for the purpose of capturing some magazines of provis- ions, of which the British army stood greatly in need. The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of strength, succeeded, after man}^ attacks, in breaking this corps, which fled into the woods and left its commander mortally wounded on the field : they then marched against a force of five hundred grenadiers and light infantrj^ which was advancing to Colonel Baum's assistance under Lieu- tenant-Colonel Brej^man, who, after a gallant resistance, was obliged to retreat on the main army. The British loss in these two actions exceeded six hundred men ; and a party of American loyalists on their way to join the army, having attached themselves to Colonel Baum's corps, were destroyed with it. Notwithstanding these reverses, which added greatly to the spirit and numbers of the American forces, Burgoyne determined to advance. It was impossible any longer to keep up his communication with Canada by way of the lakes, so as to supply his army on his southward march ; but, having by unremitting exertions collected provisions for thirty days, he crossed the Hudson by means of a bridge of rafts, and marching a short distance along its western bank, he encamped on the 14th of September on the heights of Saratoga, about sixteen miles from Albany. The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were now strongly posted near Stillwater, about half-way be- tween Saratoga and Alban}-, and showed a determination to recede no farther. [Meanwhile, Clinton was ascending the Hudson, with about three thousand men, convoyed by some ships of war, with the design of forcing his way past the American defences of the river.] The country between Burgoyne's position at Saratoga and that of the Americans at Stillwater was rugged, and Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOVNE. 65 seamed with creeks and watercourses ; but, after great labor in making bridges and temporary causeways, the British army moved forward. About four miles from Saratoga, on the afternoon of the 19th of September, a sharp encounter took place between part of the English right wing, under Burgoyne himself, and a strong bod}' of the enemy, under Gates and Arnold. The conflict lasted till sunset. The British remained masters of the field ; but the loss on each side was nearly equal (from five hundred to six hundred men), and the spirits of the Americans were greatly raised by having withstood the best regular troops of the Enghsh array. Burgoyne now halted again, and strengthened his position by field-works and redoubts ; and the Americans also improved their defences. The two armies remained nearly within cannon-shot of each other for a considerable time, during which Burgoyne was anx- iously looking for intelligence of the promised expedition from New York, which, according to the original plan, ought bj' this time to have been approaching Albany from the south. At last a messenger from Clinton made his> way, with great difficulty, to Burgoyne's camp, and brought the information that Clinton was on his way up the Hud- son to attack the American forts which barred the pas- sage up that river to Albany. Burgoyne, in reply, stated his hopes that the promised co-operation would be- speedy and decisive, and added that unless he received assistance before the 10th of October he would be obliged to retreat to the lakes through want of provisions. The Indians and Canadians now began to desert Bur- goyne, while, on the other hand, Gates's army was con- tinually reinforced by fresh bodies of the militia. An ex- peditionary force was detached by the Americans which made a bold though unsuccessful attempt to retake Ticon- deroga. Finding the number and spirit of the enemy to II.— e G* 66 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy increase daily, and his own stores of provisions to dimin- ish, Burgoyne determined on attacking the Americans in front of him, and, by dislodging them from their position, to gain the means of moving upon Albany, or, at least, of relieving his troops from the straitened position in which they were cooped up. Burgoyne's force was now reduced to less than six thousand men. The right of his camp was on some high ground a little to the west of the river ; thence his in- trenchments extended along the lower ground to the bank of the Hudson, their line being nearly at a right angle with the course of the stream. The lines were fortified in the centre and on the left with redoubts and field-works. The numerical force of the Americans was now greater than the British, even in regular troops, and the numbers of the militia and volunteers which had joined Gates and Arnold were greater still. The right of the American position, that is to say, the part of it nearest to the river, was too strong to be assailed with any prospect of success, and Burgoyne therefore determined to endeavor to force their left. For this purpose he formed a column of fifteen hundred regular troops, with two twelve-pounders, two howitzers, and six six-pounders. He headed this in per- son, having Generals Phillips, Eiedesel, and Fraser under him. The enemy's force immediately in front of his lines was so strong that he dared not weaken the troops who guarded them by detaching any more to strengthen his column of attack. The right of the camp was commanded by Generals Hamilton and Spaight; the left part of it was committed to the charge of Brigadier GoU. It was on the 7th of October that Burgoyne led his column on to the attack ; and on the preceding day, the 6th, Clinton had successfull}^ executed a brilliant enter- prise against the two American forts which barred his Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 67 progress up the Hudson. He had captured them both, Avith severe loss to the American forces opposed to him ; he had destroyed the fleet which the Americans had been forming on the Hudson, under the protection of their forts ; and the upward river was laid open to his squad- ron. He was now only a hundred and fifty-six miles dis- tant from Burgoyne, and a detachment of seventeen hun- dred men actually advanced within forty miles of Albany. Unfortunately, Burgoyne and Clinton were each ignorant of the other's movements ; but if Burgoyne had won his battle on the 7th he must, on advancing, have soon learned the tidings of Clinton's success, and Clinton would have heard of his. A junction would soon have been made of the two victorious armies, and the great objects of the cam- paign might yet have been accomplished. All depended on the fortune of the column with which Burgoyne, on the eventful 7th of October, 1777, advanced against the Ameri- can position. There were brave men, both English and German, in its ranks ; and, in particular, it comprised one of the best bodies of grenadiers in the British service. Burgoyne pushed forward some bodies of irregular troops to distract the enemy's attention, and led his col- umn to within three-quarters of a mile from the left of Gates's camp, and then deployed his men into line. The grenadiers under Major Ackland were drawn up on the left, a corps of Germans in the centre, and the English light infantry and the 24th regiment on the right. But Gates did not wait to be attacked ; and directly the Brit- ish line was formed and began to advance, the American general, with admirable skill, caused a strong force to make a sudden and vehement rush against its left. The gren- adiers under Ackland sustained the charge of superior numbers nobly. But Gates sent more Americans forward, and in a few minutes the action became general along 68 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy the centre, so as to prevent the Germans from sending any help to the grenadiers. Burgojne's right was not yet engaged ; but a mass of the enemy were observed ad- vancing from their extreme left, with the evident intention of turning the British right and cutting off its retreat. The light infantry and the 24th now fell back, and formed an oblique second line, which enabled them to baffle this manoeuvi'e, and also to succor their comrades in the left wing, the gallant grenadiers, who were overpowered by sujDcrior numbers, and, but for this aid, must have been cut to pieces. Arnold now came up with three American regiments, and attacked the right flanks of the English double line. Burgoyne's whole force was soon compelled to retreat towards their camp ; the left and centre were in complete disorder ; but the light infantry and the 24th checked the fury of the assailants, and the remains of Burgoyne's column with great difficulty effected their re- turn to their camp, leaving six of their guns in the i^os- session of the enemy, and great numbers of killed and wounded on the field ; and especially a large proportion of the artillerymen, who had stood to their guns until shot down or bayoneted beside them by the advancing Americans. Burgoyne's column had been defeated, but the action was not yet over. The English had scarcely entered the camp, when the Americans, pursuing their success, as- saulted it in several places with uncommon fierceness, rushing to the lines through a severe fire of grape-shot and musketry with the utmost fury. Arnold, especially, who on this day appeared maddened with the thirst of combat and carnage, urged on the attack against a part of the intrenchments which Avas occupied by the light infantry under Lord Balcarras. But the English received him with vigor and spirit. The struggle here was obsti- Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 69 nate and sanguinary. At length, as it grew towards even- in o-, Arnold, having forced all obstacles, entered the works with some of the most fearless of his followers. But in this critical moment of glory and danger he received a painful wound in the same leg which had already been wounded in the assault on Quebec. To his bitter regret, he was obliged to be carried back. His party still con- tinued the attack ; but the English also continued their obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and the assail- ants withdrew from this quarter of the British intrench- ments. But in another part the attack had been more successful. A body of the Americans, under Colonel Brooke, forced their way in through a part of the in- trenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Ger- mans resisted well, and Breyman died in defence of his post; but the Americans made good the ground which they had won, and captured baggage, tents, artillery, and a store of ammunition, which they were greatly in need of. They had, by establishing themselves on this point, acquired the means of completely turning the right flank of the British and gaining their rear. To prevent this calamity, Burgoyne effected during the night a complete change of position. With great skill, he removed his whole army to some heights near the river, a little north- ward of the former camp, and he there drew up his men, expecting to be attacked on the following day. But Gates was resolved not to risk the certain triumph which his success had already secured for him. He harassed the English with skirmishes, but attempted no regular attack. Meanwhile, he detached bodies of troops on both sides of the Hudson to prevent the British from recrossing the river and to bar their retreat. When night fell, it became absolutely necessary for Burgoyne to retire again, and ac- 70 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy cordingly the troops were marched through a stormy and rainy night towards Saratoga, abandoning their sick and wounded and the greater part of their baggage to the enemy. Before tlie rear-guard quitted the camp, the last sad honors were paid to the brave General Fraser, who had been mortally wounded on the 7th, and expired on the following day. The funeral of this gallant soldier is thus described by the Italian historian Botta : " Towards midnight the body of General Eraser was buried in the British camp. His brother officers gathered sadly round while the funeral service was read over the remains of their brave comrade, and his body was com- mitted to the hostile earth. The ceremony, always mourn- ful and solemn of itself, was rendei-ed even terrible by the sense of recent losses, of present and future dangers, and of regret for the deceased. Meanwhile, the blaze and roar of the American artiller}' amid the natural dai'kness and stillness of the night came on the senses with startling awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemj-'s batteries ; and while the service was proceeding, a cannon- ball struck the ground close to the coffin, and spattered earth over the face of the officiating chaplain." Burgoyne now took up his last position on the heights near Saratoga; and hemmed in by the enemy, who refused an}' encounter, and baffled in all his attempts at finding a path of escape, he there lingered until famine compelled him to capitulate. The fortitude of the British army during this melancholy jieriod has been justly eulogized b}- many native historians, but I prefer quoting the tes- timony of a foreign writer, as free from all possibility of l)artialit3'. Botta says, — " It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition to which the British army was now reduced. Creasy] THE SURRENDER OF BURGOYNE. 71 The troops were worn down by a series of toil, privation, sickness, and desperate fighting. They were abandoned by the Indians and Canadians, and the effective force of the whole army was now diminished by repeated and heavy losses, which had principally fallen on the best sol- diers and the most distinguished ofiicers, from ten thou- sand combatants to less than one-half that number. Of this remnant little more than three thousand were English. " In these circumstances, and thus weakened, they were invested by an army of four times their number, whose position extended three parts of a circle round them ; who refused to fight them, as knowing their weakness, and who, from the nature of the ground, could not be attacked in any part. In this helpless condition, obliged to be con- stantlj' under arms, w^hile the enemy's cannon played on every part of their camp, and even the American rifle- balls whistled in many parts of the lines, the troops of Burgoyne retained their customary firmness, and, while sinking under a hard necessity', they showed themselves worthy of a better fate. They could not be reproached with an action or a word which betrayed a >\'ant of temper or fortitude." At length the 13th of October arrived, and, as no pros- pect of assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted, Burgoyne, by the unanimous advice of a coun- cil of war, sent a messenger to the American camp to treat of a convention. General Gates in the first instance demanded that the royal army should surrender prisoners of war. He also proposed that the British should ground their arms. Bur- goyne replied, " This article is inadmissible in every ex- tremity : sooner than this army will consent to ground their arms in their encampment, they will rush on the enemy, determined to take no quarter." After various \ 72 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Creasy messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was settled, which provided that " the troops under General Burgoj-ne were to march out of their camp with the honors of war, and the artillery of the intrenchments, to the verge of the river, where the arras and artillery were to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command from their own oflSeers. A free passage was to be granted to the army under Lieutenant-General Burgoyne to Great Britain, upon condition of not serving again in North America during the present contest." The articles of capitulation were settled on the 15th of October ; and on that very evening a messenger arrived from Clinton with an account of his successes, and with the tidings that part of his force had penetrated as far as Esopus, within fifty miles of Burgojme's camp. But it was too late. The public faith was pledged ; and the army was indeed too debilitated by fatigue and hunger to resist an attack, if made ; and Gates certainly would have made it if the convention had been broken off. Accordingl}", on the 17th, the convention of Saratoga was carried into effect. By this convention five thousand seven hundred and ninety men surrendered themselves as prisoners. The sick and wounded left in the camp when the British re- treated to Saratoga, together with the numbers of the British, German, and Canadian troops who were killed, wounded, or taken, and who had deserted in the preceding part of the expedition, were reckoned to be four thousand six hundred and eighty-nine. [The British sick and wounded were treated with great humanity, and Gates showed much delicacy of feeling in his intercourse with his captives, avoiding every indication of triumphant display. Congress long refused to carry out the provision for the transportation of Bur- goyne's men to Europe, though Gates was in no sense responsible for this. The news of the victory was received with the utmost joy and Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 73 enthusiasm throughout America, and produced a radical change in the attitude of the Europeans. France, in particuhir, at once consented to the treaty, which had been long delayed, and the negotiations towards which had been almost broken oif by the preceding tidings of the victorious march of Burgoyne towards Albany.] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE, WASHINGTON IRVING. [The winter passed by the American army at Valley Forge was a severe one. The troops were worn out with hard service, and greatly needed rest. They were poorly clad, and almost destitute of blankets, and needed more than tents to protect them from the inclemency of the weather, while it was of great importance to remain within reach- ing distance of Philadelphia and the enemy. The plan adopted by Washington was to build huts for the army at Valley Forge, near the Schuylkill, and about twenty miles from Philadelphia. Here he could keep a vigihint eye on the city, and protect a wide stretch of country. It was a sad and dreary march to Valley Forge. The men were cold and hungry, provisions were scanty, clothing was worn out, while the exposed feet of many tracked the ground with blood. Yet quantities of stores were lying at various points, perishing for want of teams and of monej^ to pay teamsters. Huts were rapidly constructed, and a mili- tary village was formed, in which the soldiers were to some degree pro- tected from the wintry weather. But they continued to suffer severely from want of all the other necessaries of life. Irving's " Life of Wash- ington" furnishes us a graphic story of life in this winter camp, and of the winter life of the British in Philadelphia.] During the winter's encampment in Valley Forge, Wash- ington sedulously applied himself to the formation of a new system for the army. At his earnest solicitation Congress appointed a committee of five, called the Committee of Arrangement, to repair to the camp and assist him in the task. Before their arrival he had collected the written II. — D 7 74 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and from these, and his own observations and exiJerience, had prepared a docunient exhibiting the actual slate of the army, the defects of previous systems, and the alterations and reforms that were necessary. The committee remained three months with him in camp, and then made a report to Congress founded on his statement. The reforms therein recommended were generally adopted. On one point, how- ever, there was much debate. Washington had urged that the pay of the officers was insufficient for their decent subsistence, especially during the actual depreciation of the currency, and that many resignations were the conse- quence. He recommended not only that their pay should be increased, but that there should be a provision made for their future support, by half-pay and a pensionary- establishment, so as to secure them from being absolutely impoverished in the service of their country. This last recommendation had to encounter a groat jeal- ousy of the army on the part of Congress, and all that Washington could effect by strenuous and unremitted ex- ertions was a kind of compromise, according to which officers were to receive half-j)ay for seven years after the war, and non-commissioned officers and privates eighty dollars each. The reforms adopted were slow in going into operation. In the mean time, the distresses of the army continued to increase. The surrounding country for a great distance was exhausted, and had the appearance of having been pillaged. In some places where the inhabitants had pro- visions and cattle they denied it, intending to take them to Philadelphia, where they could obtain greater prices. The undisturbed communication with the city had cor- rupted the minds of the people in its vicinage. " This State is sick even unto death," said Gouverneur Morris. Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 75 The parties sent out to forage too often returned empty- handed. " For some days past there has been little less than a famine in the camp," writes Washington, on one occasion. " A part of the army has been a week without any kind of flesh, and the rest three or four days. Naked and starving as they are, we cannot enough admire the incomparable patience and fidelity of the soldiery, that they have not been, ere this, excited by their suffering to a general mutiny and desertion." The committee, in their report, declared that the want of straw had cost the lives of many of the troops. " Un- provided with this, or materials to raise them from the cold and wet earth, sickness and mortality have spread through their quarters in an astonishing degree. Nothing can equal their sufferings, except the patience and forti- tude with which the faithful part of the army endure them." A British historian cites as a proof of the great ascendency of Washington over his " raw and undisciplined troops," that so many remained with him throughout the winter in this wretched situation and still more wretched plight, almost naked, often on short allowance, with great sickness and mortality, and a scarcity of medicines, their horses perishing by hundreds from hunger and the severity of the season. He gives a striking picture of the indolence and luxury which reigned at the same time in the British army in Philadelphia. It is true, the investment of the city by the Americans rendered provisions dear and fuel scanty; but the consequent privations were felt by the inhabitants, not by their invaders. The latter revelled as if in a con- quered place. Private houses were occupied without ren- dering compensation ; the officers were quartered on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society of " Friends ;" some even transgressed so far against pro- 76 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving priety as to introduce their mistresses into the quarters thus oiDi^ressively obtained. The quiet habits of the city were outraged by the dissolute habits of a camp. Gaming prevailed to a shameless degree. A foreign officer kept a faro-bank, at which he made a fortune and some of the young officers ruined themselves. " During the whole of this long winter of riot and dis- sipation," continues the same writer, " Washington was suffered to remain undisturbed at Valley Forge, with an army not exceeding five thousand effective men, and his cannon frozen up and immovable. A nocturnal attack might have forced him to a disadvantageous action or compelled him to a disastrous retreat, leaving behind him his sick, cannon, ammunition, and heavy baggage. It might have opened the way for supplies to the city, and shaken off the lethargy of the British army. In a word," adds he, " had General Howe led on his troops to action, victory was in his power and conquest in his train." "Without assenting to the probability of such a result, it is certain that the ai'my for a part of the winter while it held Philadelphia in siege was in as perilous a situation as that which kept a bold front before Boston without am- munition to serve its cannon. On one occasion there was a flurry at the most advanced post, where Captain Henry Lee (Light-Horse Harry) with a few of his troops was stationed. He made himself for- midable to the enemy by harassing their foraging-parties. An attempt was made to surprise him. A party of about two hundred dragoons, taking a circuitous route in the night, came upon him by daybreak. He had but a few men with him at the time, and took j^ost in a large store- house. His scanty force did not allow a soldier for each window. The dragoons attempted to force their way into the house. There was a warm contest. The dragoons Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 77 were bravely repvilsed, and sheered oflF, leaving two killed and four wounded. " So well directed was the opposition," writes Lee to "Washington, " that we drove them from the stables, and saved every horse. "VVe have got the arms, some cloaks, etc., of their wounded. The enterprise was certainly daring, though the issue of it very ignominious. I had not a soldier for each window." . . . In the month of February, Mrs. "Washington rejoined the general at Valley Forge, and took up her residence at head-quarters. The arrangements consequent to her ar- rival bespeak the simplicity of style in this rude encamp- ment. " The general's apartment is very small," writes she to a friend ; " he has a log cabin built to dine in, which has made our quarters much more tolerable than they were at first." Lady Stirling, Mrs. Knox, the wife of the general, and the wives of other of the officers were also in the camp. The reforms in the commissariat had begun to operate. Provisions arrived in considerable quantities ; supplies on their way to the Philadelphia market to load the British tables were intercepted and diverted into the hungry camp of the patriots ; magazines were formed in "Valley Forge ; the threatened famine was averted; " grim-visaged War" gradually relaxed his features, and affairs in the encamp- ment began to assume a more cheering aspect. . . . The most important arrival in the camp was that of the Bai-on Steuben, towards the latter part of February. He was a seasoned soldier from the old" battle-fields of Europe, having served in the Seven Years' "War, been aide-de-camp to the great Frederick, and connected with the quartermaster-general's department. Honors had been heaped upon him in Germany. After leaving the Prussian army he had been grand marshal of the court of the Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, colonel in the circle II. 7* 78 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince Margrave of Baden, and knight of the Order of JFidelity; and he had declined liberal offers from the King of Sardinia and the Emperor of Austria. With an income of about three thousand dollars, chiefly arising from various appoint- ments, he was living pleasantly in distinguished society at the German courts, and making occasional visits to Paris, when he was persuaded by the Count de St.-G-er- main, French Minister of War, and others of the French cabinet, to come out to America and engage in the cause they were pi^e^^aring to defend. Their object was to se- cure for the American armies the services of an officer of experience and a thorough disciplinarian. Through their persuasions he resigned his several offices, and came out at forty-eight j'^ears of age, a soldier of fortune, to the rude flghting-grounds of America, to aid a half-disciplined people in their struggle for liberty. No certainty of remunera- tion was held out to him, but there was an opportunity for acquiring militarj^ glory ; the probability of adequate reward should the 3'oung republic be successful ; and it was hinted that, at all events, the French court would not suffer him to be a loser. As his means, on resigning his offices, were small, Beaumarchais furnished funds for his immediate exjDenses. The baron had brought strong letters from Dr. Franklin and Mr. Deane, our envoys at Paris, and from the Count St.-Germain. Landing at Portsmouth in New Hampshire, December 1, he had forwarded copies of his letters to Washington. " The object of my greatest ambition," writes he, " is to render 3'our country all the service in my power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of Amei-ica by fighting for the cause of 3'our liberty. If the distin- guished ranks in which I have served in Europe should be an obstacle, I had rather serve under your Excellency as a Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLEY FORGE. 79 volunteer, than to be an object of discontent among such deserving officers as have ah'eadj distinguished themselves among you. " I would say, moreover," adds he, " were it not for the fear of offending your modesty, that your Excellency is the only person under whom, after having served under the King of Prussia, I could wish to pursue an art to which I have wholl}' given myself up." By Washington's direction, the baron had proceeded direct to Congress. His letters procured him a distin- guished reception from the President. A committee was appointed to confer with bim. He offered his services as a volunteer, making no condition for rank or pay, but trusting, should he prove himself worthy and the cause be crowned with success, he would be indemnified for the sacrifices he had made, and receive such further compen- sation as he might be thought to merit. The committee having made their report, the baron's proffered services wei*e accepted, with a vote of thanks for his disinterestedness, and he was ordered to join the army at Yalley Forge. That army, in its ragged condition and squalid quai'ters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict discijjlinarian from Germany, accustomed to the order and appointments of European camps ; and the baron often declared that under such circumstances no army in Europe could be kept together for a single month. The liberal mind of Steuben, howevei', made every allowance ; and Washington soon found in him a consummate soldier, free from pedantry or pretension. The evils arising from a want of uniformity in discipline and manoeuvres throughout the army had long caused Washington to desire a well-organized inspectorship. He knew that the same desire was felt by Congress. Conway had been appointed to that office, but had never entered 80 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Irving upon its duties. The baron appeared to be peculiarl}^ well qualified for such a department. "Washington determined, therefore, to set on foot a temporary institution of the kind. Accordingly he proposed to the baron to undertake the office of inspector-general. The latter cheerfully agreed. Two ranks of inspectors were appointed under him, — the lowest to inspect brigades, the highest to superintend sev- eral of these. Among the inspectors was a French gen- tleman of the name of Ternant, chosen not only for his intrinsic merit and abilities, but on account of his being well versed in the English as well as the French language, which made him a necessary assistant to the baron, who, at times, needed an interpreter. The gallant Fleury, to whom Congress had given the rank and pay of lieutenant- colonel, and who had exercised the office of aide-major in France, was soon after employed likewise as an inspector. In a little while the whole army was under drill ; for a great part, made up of raw militia, scarcely knew the manual exercise. Many of the officers, too, knew little of manoeuvring, and the best of them had much to learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written in- structions relative to their several functions. He took a company of soldiers under his immediate ti'aining, and, after he had sufficiently schooled it, made it a model for the others, exhibiting the manoeuvres they had to practise. It was a severe task at first for the aide-de-camp of the great Frederick to operate upon such raw materials. His ignorance of the language, too, increased the difficulty, where manoeuvres were to be explained or rectified. He was in despair, until an officer of a New York regiment, Captain "Walker, who spoke French, stepped forward and offered to act as interpreter. " Had I seen an angel from heaven," says the baron, " I could not have been more re- Irving] WASHINGTON AT VALLF.Y FORGE. 81 joiced." He made Walker his aide-de-camp, and from that time bad him always at hand. For a time there was nothing but drills throughout the camp ; then gradually came evolutions of every kind. The officers were schooled as well as the men. The troops, says a person who was present in the camp, were paraded in a single line with shouldered arms, every officer in his place. The baron passed in front, then took the musket of each soldier in hand, to see whether it was clean and well pol- ished, and examined whether the men's accoutrements were in good order. He was sadly worried for a time with the militia ; es- pecially when any manoeuvre was to be performed. The men blundered in their exercise ; the baron blundered in his English ; his French and German were of no avail ; he lost his temper, which was rather warm, swore in all three languages at once, which made the matter worse, and at length called his aide to his assistance to help him curse the blockheads, as it was pretended, but, no doubt, to explain the manoeuvre.* Still the grand marshal of the court of Hohenzollern mingled with the veteran soldier of Frederick and tem pered his occasional bursts of impatience ; and he Jiad a kind, generous heart, that soon made him a favorite with the men. His discipline extended to their comforts. He inquired into their treatment by the officers. He exam- ined the doctors' reports, visited the sick, and saw that they were well lodged and attended. * On one occasion, having exhausted all his German and French oaths, he vociferated to his aide-de-camp, Major Walker, " Viens,mon ami AValker, — viens, mon bon ami. Sacre — G — dam de gaucherie of dese badauts — ^je ne puis plus — I can curse dem no more." — Garden, " Anecdotes of the American War," p. 341. 82 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks He was an example, too, of the regularity and system he exacted. One of the most alert and indefatigable men in the camp, up at daybreak, if not before, whenever there were to be anj^ important manoeuvres, he took his cup of coffee and smoked his pipe while the servant dressed his hair, and by sunrise he was in the saddle, equipped at all points, with the star of his order of knighthood glittering on his breast, and was off to the parade alone, if his suite were not ready to attend him. The good strong sense of the baron was evinced in the manner in which he adapted his tactics to the nature of the army and the situation of the country, instead of adhering with bigotry to the systems of Europe. His in- structions were appreciated b}' all. The officers received them gladly and conformed to them. The men soon be- came active and adroit. The army gradually acquired a proper organization, and began to operate like a great machine ; and Washington found in the baron an intelli- gent, disinterested, truthful coadjutor, well worthy of the badge he wore as a knight of the Order of Fidelity. FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. JARED SPARKS. [At the era of "Washington's encampment at Valley Forge, three years of war had passed, with very little of advantage to Great Britain in return for the money spent and the efforts made. At the termi- nation of these three years the British army held only the island of Rhode Island, the city and surrounding country of New York, and the city of Philadelphia. The latter they were soon forced to relin- quish. Their position there was neatly expressed by Benjamin Franlc- lin, who, when told that General Howe had taken Philadelphia, Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 83 replied, " Tou are mistaken : Philadelphia has taken General Howe." So it proved ; for, after being shut up in that city for eight months, the British were obliged to retreat in all haste, without having de- rived any advantage from the conquest. On the other hand, the American cause had materially advanced during this period. The army had developed from a miserably-armed and untrained militia to a well-disciplined force, tolerably well pro- vided with munitions of war. The loss of Philadelphia had not impaired the spirit or strength of the army, while the capture of Bur- goyne and his whole force had remarkably inspirited the people of America, and given them a strong hope of ultimate success. In the opinion of able military critics, this event was the turning-point of the war. The loss of the British in this affair outweighed the entire losses of the Americans during the war, while the injury to the prestige of the British arms was equally important. Still more valuable was the way which it opened to efficient aid from Europe. The negotiations for an alliance with France were brought to a favorable termination by the news of the surrender of Burgoyne. Ere considering these negotiations, a brief review of the few im- portant military events of 1778 may be given. On the 18th of June General Clinton evacuated the city of Philadelphia, and made a hasty retreat across New Jersey to New Tork. This action was in conse- quence of the appearance of the French fleet under Count D'Estaing off the capes of the Delaware, with a threat to blockade the British fleet in that river. Washington was making equally threatening demonstrations on the land side. Clinton accordingly decamped, with his army of about eleven thousand men. Washington hotly followed, with a larger army, and brought his antagonist to an engagement near Monmouth. The result of this battle was jeopardized by the early retreat of the vanguard under General Lee, an event which roused Washington to an unusual display of anger. The troops were rallied, however, and a general battle ensued, which continued till nightfall. Clinton took advantage of the darkness to withdraw secretly, with all his force, and hasten towards New York. He reached there without being further molested. Lee, who had been much irritated by Wash- ington's sharp reproof, addressed him two offensive letters. He was arrested in consequence, tried for military misdemeanors, and suspended from command for one year. He never rejoined the army. An attack by land and sea against Newport was next designed, with the purpose of driving the British from Rhode Island. But before 8-4 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Sparks it could be carried into effect Lord Howe's fleet appeared, and offered battle to the French fleet. Before they could join in conflict they wero parted by a violent storm, which greatly damaged both fleets. Gen- eral Sullivan, who commanded the land force, retired on perceiving the withdrawal of the fleet, and the enterprise was given up. In November, General Clinton despatched an expedition of two thousand men against Georgia. The opposing anny here was small and in poor condition for battle, and was easily defeated. Savannah being taken by the British. This was the only important British success during the year. The two principal armies ended the year in much the same posi- tion as they had occupied two years before, "Washington having control of New Jersey, and the British being confined to New York City and its vicinity. Here thej' proceeded to defend themselves by intrench- ments. The most striking event of the year was the massacre of Wyoming, by a body of Indians and tories, and the subsequent slaughter in Cherry Valley, New York. Early in the summer Colonel John Butler and Brant, the Indian chief, led a party of about sixteen hundred savages and tories against the flourishing settlements of Wyoming Valley, Pennsylvania. One of the most terrible massacres in the whole history of America ensued. The garrison of the fort was lured out to hold a parley, and nearly all slain. When the remnant asked for terms of surrender, the terms oftered were " The hatchet!" On surrender, the women and children were shut up in the houses and barracks and consumed in a general conflagration. The settlements were then ravaged with fire and sword, with the most cold-blooded cruelty, in which the tories equalled or even surpassed the Indians. In October an expedition in retaliation was made against the Indians of the upper Susquehanna. This was followed by another savage incursion, in November, upon the settlers of Cherry Valley, New York. The inhabitants were treated with a barbarity only less than that shown at Wyoming, but the fort succeeded in holding out against its bloodthirsty assailants. With this rapid review of the military events of the year we will proceed to describe the mission to France, and particularly Franklin's share in it, making our selection from Sparks's " Life of Benjamin Franklin."] Congress [in 1776] appointed three commissioners, Dr. Franklin, Silas Deane, and Arthur Lee, "to transact the Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 85 business of the United States at the court of France. ' They were furnished with the draft of a treaty, creden- tials, and instructions. The members enjoined secrecy on themselves in regard to these proceedings. Silas Deane was already in France, having been sent thither as a commercial and political agent instructed to procure mu- nitions of war and forward them to the United States, and to ascertain, as far as he could, the views and dispo- sition of the French court. Arthur Lee was in England. Franklin made immediate preparations for his voyage. He left Philadelphia on the 26th of October, accompanied by two of his grandsons, William Temple Franklin and Benjamin Frankhn Bache. They passed the night at Chester, and the next day embarked on board the Conti- nental sloop-of-war Eeprisal, carrying sixteen guns, and commanded by Captain Wickes. As a proof of Franklin's zeal in the cause of his country, and of his confidence in the result, it may be stated that before he left Philadelphia he raised all the money he could command, being between three and four thousand pounds, and placed it as a loan at the disposal of Congress. After a boisterous passage of thirty days from the Capes of Delaware the Eeprisal came to anchor in Quiberon Bay, near the mouth of the Loire. . . . The sloop was some- times chased by British cruisers, and Captain Wickes pre- pared for action ; but he had been instructed to avoid an engagement if possible, and to proceed directly to the coast of France. By good management he escaped his pursuers, and no action occurred during the voyage. Two days before he came in sight of land he took two pinzes, brigantines, one belonging to Cork, the other to Hull, laden with cargoes obtained in French ports. [Franklin landed at the town of Auray, and reached Nantes on the Tth of December.] TI. 8 86 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks His arrival in France was entirely unexpected. The news of his appointment had not preceded him, this having been kept secret in Congress. It was easily conjectured, however, that he would not come so far without being invested with some important public mission ; and the friends of America greeted him with cordiality and lively expressions of joy. . . . He stayed eight days at Nantes, and then set off for Paris, and reached that city on the 21st of December. He found Mr. Deane there, and Mr. Lee joined them the next day, so that the commissioners were prepared to enter immediately upon their official duties. Shortly afterward Dr. Franklin removed to Passy, a pleasant vil- lage near Paris. . . . He remained at this place during the whole of his residence in Franco. The intelligence of Franklin's arrival was immediately published and circulated throughout Eui'ope. His brilliant discoveries in electricity, thirty years before, had made him known as a philosopher wherever science was studied or genius respected. His writings on this subject had already been translated into many languages ; and also his " Poor Eichard," and some other miscellaneous pieces, clothed in a style of surpassing simplicity and precision, and abounding in sagacious maxims relating to human affairs and the springs of human action, which are almost with- out a parallel in any other writer. The history of his recent transactions in England, his bold and uncompro- mising defence of his country's rights, his examination before Parliament, and the abuse he had received from the ministers, were known everywhere, and had added to the fame of a philosopher and philanthropist that of a statesman and patriot. A French historian of the first celebrity speaks of him as follows : '• By the effect which Franklin produced in France, one Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 87 might suy that he fulfilled his mission, not with a court, but with a free people. Diplomatic etiquette did not per- mit him often to hold interviews with the ministers, but he associated with all the distinguished personages who directed public opinion. Men imagined they saw in him a sage of antiquity, come back to give austere lessons and generous examples to the moderns. They personified in him the republic of which he was the representative and the legislator. They regarded his virtues as those of his countrymen, and even judged of their physiognomy by the imposing and serene traits of his own. Happy was he who could gain admittance to see him in the house which he occupied at Passy. This venerable old man, it was said, joined to the demeanor of Phocion the spirit of Socrates. . . . Courtiers were struck with his native dig- nity, and discovered in him the profound statesman. . . . After this picture, it would be useless to trace the history of Franklin's negotiations with the court of France. His virtues and his renown negotiated for him ; and, before the second year of his mission had expii'cd, no one con- ceived it possible to refuse fleets and an army to the compatriots of Franklin." The commissioners were furnished by Congress, in the first place, with the plan of a treaty of commerce which they were to propose to the French government. They were likewise instructed to procure from that court, at the expense of the United States, eight line-of-battle ships, well manned and fitted for service ; to borrow money ; to procure and forward military supplies ; and to fit out armed vessels under the flag of the United States, provided the Fi-ench court should not disapprove this measure. They were, moi-eover, authorized to ascertain the views of other European powers, through their ambassadors in France, and to endeavor to obtain from them a recoo-nition 1 88 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks of the indej^endence and sovereignty of the United States ; and to enter into treaties of amity and commerce with such powers, if opportunities should present themselves. It was expected that remittances would be made to them from time to time, in American produce, to meet their expenses and pecuniary engagements. [Their advances were received cautiously by the Count de Vergennes, minister for foreign affairs in the French cabinet, as the court desired to avoid giving open offence to England.] Notwithstanding this reserve, the court of France had resolved to assist the Americans. A million of livres had already been secretly advanced to Beaumarchais for this purpose. Munitions of war to a large amount were pur- chased by him, in part with this money, and in part with such other means as he could command. By an arrange- ment with Mr. Deane, he shipped these articles to the United States, and Congress was to pay for them by re- mitting tobacco and other American produce. Before the commissioners arrived, Mr. Deane had procured, on these conditions, thirty thousand fusils, two hundred pieces of brass cannon, thirty mortars, four thousand tents, clothing for thirty thousand men, and two hundred tons of gun- powder. They were shipped in different vessels, the most of which arrived safely in the United States. [In addition there were secretly granted two millions of livres, under the guise of a loan from friends of America, but really from the royal treasury. This money was to be repaid after the war. The commis- sioners also agreed to furnish five thousand hogsheads of tobacco, on which contract one million livres were advanced. "With the money thus received, arms, clothing, etc., were bought and sent to America, while two frigates were built. These secretly-conducted operations were greatly interfered with by the British ambassador, who had spies in every port. Yet the commissioners managed to get all their goods shipped. The sale of prizes by privateers also brought remonstrances Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 89 from the British ambassador. Eiforts were made to obtain aid in the other countries of Europe, but with little success. The commissioners had more success in obtaining an alleviation of the harsh treatment in England of American prisoners. The American cruisers had now taken enough prisoners to threaten reprisals and to enforce the policy of exchange.] The multitude of foreign officers applying for letters of recommendation to Congress, or to General AVashing- ton, was so great as to be a source of unceasing trouble and embarrassment. Scarcely had Dr. Franklin landed in France when applications began to throng upon him for employment in the American army. They continued to the end of the war, coming from every country, and written in almost every language, of Europe. Some of the writers told only the story of their own exploits ; others endorsed the certificates of friends, or of generals under whom they had served ; while others were backed by the interest of persons of high rank and influence, whom it was impos- sible to gratify and disagreeable to refuse. It was in vain that he assured them that he had no power to engage offi- cers, that the army was already full, that his recommenda- tion could not create vacancies, and that they would inevi- tably be disappointed when the}' arrived in America. [Many such officers came to America, some of them of the highest repute, among whom we have already mentioned Kosciusko, Pulaski, Steuben, and Lafayette. To the latter Franklin willingly gave his recommendation, and wrote somewhat enthusiastically to Congress concerning him. His judgment, as we know, was fully sustained by the good conduct of the young French nobleman.] Dr. Franklin had been ten months in France before the court of Versailles manifested any disposition to engage openly in the American contest. The opinion of the min- isters was divided on this subject. Count de Vergennes and Count Maurepas, the two principal ministers, were II. 8* 90 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Spakks decidedly in favor of a war with England, and of bring- ing it on by uniting with the Americans. Some of the others, among whom was Turgot while he was in the cab- inet, disapproved this policy, and the king himself came into it with reluctance. Moreover, the events of the cam- paign of 1776 afforded little encouragement to such a step. The evacuation of Canada by the American troops, the defeat on Long Island, the loss of Fort Washington, the retreat of Washington's army through New Jersey, and the flight of Congress from Philadelphia to Baltimore, were looked upon in Europe as a prelude to a speedy ter- mination of the struggle. This was not a time to expect alliances. . . . But the tide of affairs soon began to turn in another direction. In the campaign of 1777 the losses of the pi'e- ceding year wei-e more than retrieved. The capture of Burgoyne's army, and the good conduct of the foi'ces under General Washington in Pennsylvania, gave sufficient evidence that the Americans were in earnest, and that they wanted neither physical strength nor firmness of purpose. On the 4th of December an express arrived in Paris from the United States, bringing the news of the capture of Burgoyne and the battle of Germantown. The commis- sioners immediately communicated this intelligence to the French court. Two days afterwards, M. Gerard, the sec- retary of the King's Council, called on Dr. Franklin at Passy, and said he had come, by order of the Count de Yergennes and Count Maurepas, to congratulate the com- missioners on the success of their countrymen, and to assure them that it gave great pleasure at Versailles. After some conversation, he advised them to renew their proposition for a treaty. [They accordingly called on the Count de Vergennes and submitted to him the draft of the proposed treaty of commerce. He requested, Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 91 before deciding, a delay of three weeks, that the King of Spain might be consulted and invited to join in the treaty.] Before this time expired, M. Gerard again called on the commissioners, and told them that the king, by the advice of his Council, had determined to acknowledge the inde- pendence of the United States, and to enter into a treaty of amit}' and commerce with them ; that it was the desire and intention of his majesty to form such a treaty as would be durable, and this could be done only by estab- lishing it on principles of exact reciprocity, so that its continuance should be for the interest of both parties; that no advantage w^ould be taken of the present situation of the United States to obtain terms which they would not willingly agree to under any other circumstances ; and that it was his fixed determination to support their in- dependence by all the means in his power. This would probably lead to a war with England ; yet the king would not ask, or expect, any comj^ensation for the expense or damage he might sustain on that account. The only con- dition required by him would bo that the United States should not give up their independence in any treaty of peace they might make with England, nor return to their subjection to the British government. [The treaty was accordingly drawn up and signed, after which the French minister proposed a supplementary Treaty of Alliance, to come into effect in case of war between Trance and England. This stipu- lated that the allies should make their cause a common one, this being to maintain the independence of the United States. If the Americans gained any territory in Canada they were to retain it, while the French were to have the same privilege in regard to the British West Indies. Each guaranteed to the other all its possessions in America. Trade was to become exactly reciprocal. France disclaimed any idea of gaining territory on the American continent.] The two treaties were signed at Paris on the 6th of 92 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks February, 1778. They were sent to America by a special messenger, and were immediately ratified by Congress. The event diffused joy throughout the country. Wash- ington set apart a day for the rejoicings of the army on the occasion at Valley Forge. All saw, or believed they saw, that, whatever might be the hazards of the war, in- dependence in the end was certain. France was too powerful a nation to be conquered, and she had promised her support to the last. Her interest and safety were deeply involved in the contest, and her honor was pledged. In the enthusiasm of the moment, every heart was filled with gratitude to the French king, and every tongue spoke his praise. His generosity in agreeing to treaties so favor- able in their conditions and so equitable in their princijjles was lauded to the skies ; and we behold the spectacle of two millions of republicans becoming all at once the cor- dial friends and warm admirers of a monarch who sat on a throne erected by acts, sustained by a policy, and sur- rounded by institutions, which all true republicans re- garded as so many encroachments upon the natural and inalienable rights of mankind. In this instance, however, they had no just occasion afterwards to regret that their confidence had been misj)laced, or their gratitude improp- erly bestowed. Every promise was fulfilled, and every pledge was redeemed. On the 20th of March the American commissioners were introduced to the king at Yersailles, and they took their place at court as the representatives of an independent power. A French historian, describing this ceremony, says of Franklin, " He was accompanied and followed by a gi'eat number of Americans and individuals from various countries, whom curiosity had drawn together. His age, his venerable aspect, the simplicity of his dress, everything fortunate and remarkable in the life of this American, eon- Sparks] FRANKLIN IN FRANCE. 93 tributed to excite public attention. The clapping of hands and other expressions of joy indicated that warmth of enthusiasm which the, French are more susceptible of than any other people, and the charm of which is enhanced to the object of it by their jjoliteness and agreeable manners. After this audience he crossed the court on his way to the office of the minister of foreign affairs. The multitude waited for him in the passage, and greeted him with their acclamations. He met with a similar reception wherever he appeared in Paris." From that time both Franklin and the other Ameri- can commissioners attended the court at Versailles on the same footing as the ambassadors of the European powers. Madame Campan says that on these occasions Franklin appeared in the dress of an American farmer. " His straight, unpowdered hair, his round hat, his brown cloth coat, formed a singular contrast with the laced and em- broidered coats, and powdered and perfumed heads, of the courtiers of Yersailles." [The treaties thus entered into were considered equivalent to a decla- ration of war, and both parties prepared for hostilities, though the actual declaration was not made till later. Meanwhile, Franklin was approached by agents from England, with the ostensible object of arranging some terms of accommodation between America and Eng- land, but probably, to some extent, with the real object of entrapping the shrewd American and embroiling him with the French govern- ment. Whatever their object, he was too wise to be deceived, and too patriotic to listen to any terms short of a complete independence. Commissioners were also sent to America, to treat with Congress and with the leading Americans. The ill success of this effort has been already mentioned. Franklin continued in Paris, as the American representative, till 1785, taking an active part in diplomatic labors, and assisting in the final treaty of peace.] 94 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper THE BON HOMME RICHARD AND THE SERAPIS. J. FENIMORE COOPER. [The Revolutionary War, which in its earlier years had been in great part confined to the North, was in its later years transferred to the South, which became the scene of its most important events. During 1 779 active operations took place in both regions. In the South the British were endeavoring to reduce South Carolina and Georgia ; in the North, Clinton and Washington stood opposed ; and in the West Indies the fleets of England and France contended. The fall of Sa- vannah was soon followed by the capture of Sunbury, which gave the British military command of Georgia. They were defeated in an attack upon Port Royal, but soon afterwards General Ash was defeated at Brier Creek, with the loss of nearly his whole army of two thousand men. General Prevost, the British commander, now marched on Charleston, but was compelled to retreat by the advance of the Ameri- cans under General Lincoln. In September, the French fleet, under Count D'Estaing, in concert with General Lincoln's army, laid siege to Savannah. The siege continued for a month, when an assault Avas made, in which the Americans were repulsed with severe loss. This forced them to raise the siege. Meanwhile, in the North, desultory fighting continued, but no en- gagements of importance took place. Governor Tryon headed several expeditions, which resulted only in the barbarous plundering and burning of defenceless towns. During one of these occurred General Putnam's famous feat at Horse-Neck, Connecticut, in which he plunged at the full speed of his horse down a precipitous descent, without injury either from the desperate ride or from the bullets of the enemy. Another brilliant exploit was the capture by General Wayne of the fort at Stony Point, on the Hudson, which had some time before been taken by General Clinton. Wayne arrived near this fortress, unperceived by the garrison, on the evening of July 15. Dividing his force into two columns, and forbidding them to load their muskets, he marched them silently against the post. They were forced to wade through a deep morass, and while here were discovered by the English, who opened on them with a terrible fire of musketry and grape-shot. Yet without a moment's check they rushed impetuously forward Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 95 forced their way with the baj'onet, and the two columns met in the centre of the fort, which instantly yielded. More than six hundred of the British were killed and taken, with a large amount of stores. Another important event of the year was General Sullivan's expedi- tion against the Six Nations, of whom only the Oneidas favored the Americans. He penetrated their country, defeated them in a severe encounter, burned their villages and corn, and so intimidated them that they gave much less trouble during the remainder of the war. During the summer Spain declared war against Great Britain, and joined her fleet to that of France. In September of this year occurred the famous naval battle between the Bon Homme Eichard and the Serapis, which is of sufficient in- terest to describe in detail. With the exception of this one striking conflict, the naval history of the war is of secondary importance, as compared with the conflict on land. Early in the war the American Congress authorized privateering, and much damage was done to the British shipping by the active rovers of the seas. Efforts were also made to build fleets, and many actions took place at sea, but none of particular interest, during the first half of the war. John Paul Jones, the boldest of American naval commanders of that period, first entered the service on May 10, 1776, in command of the sloop-of-war Provi- dence, one of the American squadron of thirteen war-vessels built in 1776. But he first attained celebrity in 1778, as commander of the Ranger, of eighteen guns. With this vessel, which is described as being crank and slow, he descended on the coasts of England and Scotland and made an effort to bum the shipping in the harbor of Whitehaven. This attempt proved unsuccessful. He afterwards at- tempted to seize the Earl of Selkirk, landing and taking possession of his house, from which the earl chanced to be absent. These daring operations created the greatest alarm along the English coast. The Eanger afterwards captured the sloop-of-war Drake, after a severe combat, and carried her prize safely into the harbor of Brest, though chased repeatedly. The exploits of the captain of the Ranger yielded him so much celebrity that the French government soon after gave him command of the Duras, an old Indiaman of some size, which was placed under the American flag and fitted up as a ship of war, being armed with six eighteen-pounders, twenty-eight twelves, and eight nines. The vessel was old-fashioned and clumsy, and had a motley crew, from almost every nation of Europe, with one hundred and thirty-five 96 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper marines to keep them in order. This ship, in company with four smaller vessels, the Alliance, the Pallas, the Cerf, and the Vengeance, of which only the Alliance and the Cei*f were fitted for war, set sail from L'Orient on June 19, 1779. The name of the Duras had pre- viously been changed to the Bon Homme Kichard, in compliment to Franklin. After a short cruise the squadron returned, and sailed again on August 14. The Richard had now nearly one hundred Americans on board, gained from some exchanged American seamen. After having produced a general alarm along the coast of England by his daring movements, Captain Jones met, on the 13th of September, a British fleet of more than forty sail of merchantmen, convoyed by the Serapis, a forty-four-gun ship, and the Countess of Scarborough, of twenty-two guns. The Serapis was a new vessel, reputed a fast sailer, and armed with twenty eighteen-pounders, twenty nine-pounders, and ten six-pounders, making fifty guns in all. She had a trained man-of- war's crew of three hundred and twenty men. This encounter took place ofi" riamborough Head, within easy view of the English coast. On learning the character of the fleet, Captain Jones gave the signal for chase, and displayed signs of hostility which alarmed the English ships and caused a hurried flight for safety, while the Serapis hauled out to sea, until far enough to windward, when she stood in again to cover her convoy. The Alliance and Pallas, who were in company with the Richard, moved with indecision, as if in doubt whether to fly or fight. The story of the remarkable naval battle which succeeded we select from Cooper's " History of the Navy of the United States of America," where it is well told.] It was now quite dark, and Commodore Jones was com- pelled to follow the movements of the enemy by the aid of a night-glass. It is probable that the obscurity which prevailed added to the indecision of the commander of the Pallas, for, from this time until the moon rose, objects at a distance were distinguished with difficulty, and, even after the moon appeared, with uncertainty. The Eichard, how- ever, stood steadily on, and about half-past seven she came up with the Serapis, the Scarborough being a short dis- tance to leeward. The American ship was to Avindward, and, as she drew slowly near, Captain Pearson hailed. The Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 97 answer was equivocal, and both ships delivered their entire broadsides nearly simultaneously. The water being quite smooth, Commodore Jones had relied materially on the eighteens that were in the gun-room ; but at this discharge two of the six that were fired burst, blowing up the deck above, and killing or wounding a large proportion of the people that were stationed below. This disaster caused all the heavy guns to be instantly deserted, for the men had no longer confidence in their metal. It at once re- duced the broadside of the Eichard to about a third less than that of her opponent, not to include the disadvantage of the manner in which the force that remained was dis- tributed among light guns. In short, the combat was now between a twelve-pounder and an eighteen-pounder frigate, — a species of contest in which, it has been said, we know not with what truth, the former has never been known to prevail. Commodore Jones informs us himself that all his hoj)es, after this accident, rested on the twelve-pounders that were under the command of his first lieutenant. The Eichard, having backed her topsails, exchanged sev- eral broadsides, when she filled again and shot ahead of the Serapis, which ship luff'ed across her stern and came up on the weather quarter of her antagonist, taking the wind out of her sails, and, in her turn, passing ahead. All this time, which consumed half an hour, the cannonading was close and furious. The Scarborough now drew near, but it is uncertain whether she fired or not. On the side of the Americans it is affirmed that she raked the Eichard at least once ; but by the report of her own commander it would appear that, on account of the obscurity and the smoke, he was afraid to discharge his guns, not knowing which ship might be friend or which foe. Unwilling to lie by and be exposed to shot uselessly, Captain Piercy edged away from the combatants, exchanging a broadside II. — E g 9 1 98 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper or two, at a great distance, with the AlHance, and shortly afterwards was engaged at close quarters by the Pallas, which ship compelled him to strike, after a creditable re- sistance of about an hour. Having disposed of the inferior ships, we can confine ourselves to the principal combatants. As the Serapis kept her luff, sailing and working better than the Eichard, it was the intention of Captain Pearson to pay broad off across the latter's fore-foot, as soon as he had got far enough ahead; but, making the attempt, and finding he had not room, he put his helm hard down to keep clear of his adversar}^, when the double movement brought the two ships nearly in a line, the Serapis leading. By these uncertain evolutions the English ship lost some of her way, while the American, having kept her sails trimmed, not only closed, but actually ran aboard of her antagonist, bows on, a little on her weather quarter. The wind being light, much time was consumed in these different man- oeuvres, and near an hour elapsed between the firing of the first guns and the moment when the vessels got foul of each other in the manner just described. The English now thought that it was the intention of the Americans to board them, and a few minutes passed in the uncertainty which such an expectation would create ; but the positions of the vessels were not favorable for either party to pass into the opposing ship. There being at this moment a perfect cessation of the firing, Captain Pearson demanded, "Have you struck your colors?" "I have not yet begun to fight," was the answer. The yards of the Richard were braced aback, and, the sails of the Serapis being full, the ships separated. As soon as far enough asunder, the Serapis put her helm hard down, laid all aback forward, shivered her after-sails, and wore short round on her heel, or was box-hauled, with a Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 99 view, most probably, of luffing up athwart the bow of the enemy, in order to again rake her. In this position the Richard would have been fighting her starboard and the Serapis her larboard guns ; but Cominodore Jones by this time was conscious of the hopelessness of success against so much heavier metal, and, after having backed astern some distance, he filled on the other tack, luffing up with the intention of meeting the enemy as he came to the wind, and of laying him athwart hawse. In the smoke, one party or the other miscalculated the distance, for the two vessels came foul again, the bowsprit of the English ship passing over the poop of the American. As neither had much way, the collision did but little injury, and Commo- dore Jones, with his own hands, immediately lashed the enemy's head-gear to his raizzen-mast. The pressure on the after-sails of the Serapis, which vessel was nearly be- fore the wind at the time, brought her hull round, and the two ships gradually fell close alongside of each other, head and stern, the jib-boom of the Serapis giving way with the strain. A spare anchor of the English ship now hooked in the quarter of the American, and additional lashings were got out on board the latter to secure her in this position. Captain Pearson, who was as much aware of his advan- tage in a regular combat as his opponent could be of his own inferiority, no sooner perceived that the vessels were foul than he dropped an anchor, in the hope that the Eichard would drift clear of him. But such an expecta- tion was perfectly futile, as the yards were intei'locked, the hulls were pressed close against each other, there were lashings fore and aft, and even the ornamental work aided in holding the shijDs together. When the cable of the Serapis took the strain, the vessels sloAvly tended, with the bows of the Serapis and the stern of the Eichard to 100 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper the tide. At this instaut the English made an attempt to board, but were repulsed with trifling loss. All this time the battle raged. The lower ports of the Serapis having been closed, as the vessel swung, to prevent boarding, they were now blown off, in order to allow the guns to be run out ; and cases actually occurred in which the rammers had to be thrust into the ports of the oppo- site ship in order to be entered into the muzzles of their proper guns. It is evident that such a conflict must have been of short duration. In eff'ect, the heavy metal of the Serai)is, in one or two discharges, cleared all before it, and the main-deck guns of the Eichard were in a great measure abandoned. Most of the people went on the upper deck, and a great number collected on the forecastle, where they were safe from the fire of the enemy, continuing to fight by throwing grenades and using muskets. In this stage of the combat, the Serapis was tearing her antagonist to pieces below, almost without resistance from her enemy's batteries, only two guns on the quarter-deck, and three or four of the twelves, being worked at all. To the former, by shifting a gun from the larboard side, Com- modore Jones succeeded in adding a third, all of which were used with effect, under his immediate inspection, to the close of the action. He could not muster force enough to get over a second gun. But the combat would now have soon terminated, had it not been for the courage and activity of the people aloft. Strong parties had been placed in the tops, and at the end of the short contest the Americans had driven every man belonging to the enemy below ; after which they kept up so animated a fire on the quarter-deck of the Serapis in particular as to di-ive nearly every man off that was not shot down. Thus, while the English had the battle nearly to them- selves below, their enemies had the control above the upper Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 101 deck. Having cleared the tops of the Serapis, some Ameri- can seamen lay out on the Eichard's main-yai'd, and began to throw hand-grenades upon the two upper decks of the English ship ; the men of the forecastle of their own vessel seconding these efforts, by casting the same combustibles through the ports of the Serapis. At length one man, in particular, became so hardy as to take his post on the ex- treme end of the yard, whence, provided with a bucket filled with combustibles, and a match, he dropped the gre- nades with so much jirecision that one passed through the main hatchway. The powder-boys of the Serapis had got more cartridges up than were wanted, and, in their hurry, they had carelessly laid a row of them on the main deck, in a line with the guns. The grenade just mentioned set fire to some loose powder that was Ij^ing near, and the flash passed from cartridge to cartridge, beginning abreast of the main-mast, and running quite aft. The effect of this explosion was awful. More than twenty men were instantly killed, many of them being left with nothing on them but the collars and wi'istbands of their shirts and the waistbands of their duck trousers ; while the official returns of the ship, a week after the action, show that there were no less than thirty-eight wounded on board, still alive, who had been injured in this manner, and of whom thirty were then said to be in great danger. Captain Pearson described the explosion as having destroyed nearly all the men at the five or six aftermost guns. On the whole, nearly sixty of the Serapis's people must have been instantly disabled by this sudden blow. The advantage thus obtained, by the coolness and in- trepidit}'- of the topman, in a great measure restored the chances of the combat, and, by lessening the fire of the enemy, enabled Commodore Jones to increase his. In the II. 9* 102 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Coopkr same decree that it encourasjed the crew of the Eichard it diminished the hopes of the people of the Serapis. One of the guns under the immediate inspection of Commodore Jones had been pointed some time against the main-mast of the enemy, while the two others had seconded the fire of the tops with grape and canister. Kept below decks by this double attack, where a scene of frightful horror was present in the agonies of the wounded and the effects of the explosion, the spirits of the Englishmen began to droop, and there was a moment when a trifle would have induced them to submit. From this despondency they were temporarily raised by one of those unlooked-for events that characterize the vicissitudes of battle. [The event here alluded to was the following. While the fight was taking place between the Pallas and the Scarborough, the Alli- ance stood off and on, as if in doubt how or where to bo of service. She finally approached the Eichard and Serapis, and fired in such a way as to do as much damage to friend as to foe, if not even more. Fifty voices hailed her, calling out that she was firing into the wrong ship. Ten or twelve men seem to have been killed and wounded on the Eichard by this discharge. The Alliance, after some further in- effectual efforts to aid her consort, stood off, and took no part in the remainder of the fight.] The fire of the Alliance added greatl}- to the leaks of the Eichard, which ship by this time had received so much water through the shot-holes as to begin to settle. It is even affirmed by many witnesses that the most dangerous shot-holes on board the Eichard were under her larboard bow and larboard counter, in places where they could not have been received from the Serapis. This evidence, how- ever, is not unanswerable, as it has been seen that the Sera- pis luffed up on the larboard quarter of the Eichard in the commencement of the action, and, forging ahead, was sub- sequently on her larboard bow, endeavoring to cross her Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 103 foi'e-foot. It is certainly possible that shot may have struck the Richard in the places mentioned, on these oc- casions, and that, as the ship settled in the water from other leaks, the holes then made may have suddenly in- creased the danger. On the other hand, if the Alliance did actually fire while on the bow and quarter of the Richard, as appears by a mass of uncontradicted testimony, the dangerous shot-holes may veiy well have come from that ship. Let the injuries have been received from what quarter they might, soon after the Alliance had run to leeward an alarm was spread in the Richard that the ship was sinking. Both vessels had been on fire several times, and some difficulty had been experienced in extinguishing the flames ; but hei-e was a new enemy to contend with, and, as the information came from the carpenter, whose duty it was to sound the pump-wells, it produced a good deal of consternation. The Richard had more than a hundred English prisoners on board, and the master-at-arms, in the hurry of the moment, let them all up from below, in order to save their lives. In the confusion of such a scene at night, the master of the letter-of-marque that had been taken off the north of Scotland passed through a port of the Richard into one of the Serapis, when he reported to Captain Pearson that a few minutes would probably de- cide the battle in his favor, or carry his enemy down, he himself having been liberated in order to save his life. Just at this instant the gunner, who had little to occupy him in his quarters, came on deck, and, not perceiving Commodore Jones or Mr. Dale, both of whom were occu- pied with the liberated prisoners, and believing the mas- ter, the only other superior he had in the ship, to be dead, he ran up on the poop to haid down the colors. Fortu- nately, the flag-staff had been shot away, and, the ensign 1 104 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Cooper already hanging in the water, he had no other means of letting his intention to submit be known than by calling out for quarter. Captain Pearson now hailed to inquire if the Richard demanded quarter, and was answered by Commodore Jones himself in the negative. It is probable that the reply was not heard, or, if heard, was supjjosed to come from an unauthorized source ; for, encouraged by what he had learned from the escaped prisoner, by the cry, and by the confusion that prevailed in the Richard, the English captain directed his boarders to bo called away, and, as soon as mustered, they were ordered to take possession of the prize. Some of the men actually got on the gunwale of the latter ship, but, finding boarders ready to repel boarders, they made a precipitate retreat. All this time the topmen were not idle, and the enemy were soon driven below again with loss. In the mean while, Mr. Dale, who no longer had a gun that could be fought, mustered the prisoners at the pumps, turning their consternation to account, and probably keep- ing the Richard afloat by the very blunder that had come so near losing her. The ships were now on fire again, and both parties, with the exception of a few guns on each side, ceased fighting, in order to subdue this common enemy. In the course of the combat the Serapis is said to have been set on fire no less than twelve times, while towards its close, as will be seen in the sequel, the Richard was burning all the while. As soon as order was restored in the Richard, after a call for quarter, her chances of success began to increase, while the English, driven under cover, almost to a man, appear to have lost, in a great degree, the hope of vic- tory. Their fire materially slackened, while the Richard again brought a few more guns to bear ; the main-mast of the Serapis began to totter, and her resistance, in gen- Cooper] THE BON HOMME RICHARD. 105 eral, to lessen. About an hour after the exjjlosion, or be- tween three hours and three hours and a half after the first gun was fired, and between two hours and two hours and a half after the ships were lashed together, Captain Pearson hauled down the colors of the Serapis with his own hands, the men refusing to expose themselves to the fire of the Eiehard's tops. As soon as it was known that the colors of the English had been lowered, Mr. Dale got upon the gunwale of the Eichard, and, laying hold of her main brace pendant, he swung himself on board the Serapis. On the quarter-deck of the latter he found Captain Pearson, almost alone, that gallant officer having maintained his post throughout the whole of this close and murderous conflict. Just as Mr. Dale addressed the English captain, the first lieutenant of the Serapis came up from below to inquire if the Richard had struck, her tire having entirely ceased. Mr. Dale now gave the English ofiacer to understand that he was mis- taken in the position of things, the Serapis having struck to the Eichard, and not the Eichard to the Serapis. Cap- tain Pearson confirming this account, his subordinate ac- quiesced, offering to go below and silence the guns that were still playing upon the American ship. To this Mr. Dale would not consent, but both the English officers were immediately passed on board the Eichard. The firing was then stopped below. Mr. Dale had been closely followed to the quarter-deck of the Serapis by Mr. Mayrant, a mid- shipman, and a party of boarders, and as the former struck the quarter-deck of the prize he was run through the thigh by a boarding-pike in the hands of a man in the waist, who was ignorant of the surrender. Thus did the close of this remarkable combat resemble its other features in singularity, blood being shedandshots fired while the board- ing officer was in amicable discourse with his prisoners. 106 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks [After the surrender the Kichard was discovered to be both sinking and burning. The other vessels of the squadron sent men on board, of which one party worked the pumps, while another fought the fire. The flames were at length subdued, but an examination showed that it would be almost impossible to carry the vessel into port. She was accordingly abandoned, and about ten the next day " the Bon Homme Kichard wallowed heavily, gave a roll, and settled slowly into the sea, bows foremost." The Serapis, which was much less injured, was taken safely into port. Thus ended the most extraordinary sea-fight on record, and one which has given to the name of Paul Jones an imperishable fame.] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. JARED SPARKS. [During the year 1780 military operations were mainly confined to the South. The year opened with a very unfavorable show for the American cause. The alliance with France had not produced the re- sults anticipated, the two years' operations of the French fleet having proved nearly useless to the Americans. The army was low in num- bers, and miserably clothed ; the country was without money or credit, and its paper currency greatly reduced in value. On the other hand, England had money in abundance, while the military and naval force voted for the year consisted of eighty-five thousand seamen and thirty- five thousand soldiers, in addition to those already abroad. The earliest British operation in 1780 was the siege of Charleston, which was conducted by General Clinton, aided by a fleet which forced its way into the harbor. On the 12th of May the city was forced to surrender, and General Lincoln and the garrison became prisoners of war. From this point expeditions were sent into the country. One of these seized the important post of Ninety-Six, others scoured the State in various directions, and the cavalry under the remorseless Colo- nel Tarleton cut to pieces a body of four hundred Americans who were retreating towards North Carolina. The province seeming re- duced to tranquillity, Clinton left Lord Cornwallis in command, and returned to New York with a large body of his troops. Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 107 Yet the people were not so tranquil as they seemed. Bold guerilla bands soon collected, which gave the invaders unceasing annoyance. Chief among the daring leaders of these bands was Colonel Sumter, a dashing warrior, who not only gained minor successes, but surprised and completely defeated a large force of regulars and tories at Hanging Rock. Another of these active partisan leaders was Francis Marion, a man who has become a hero of modern romance, and who, with a force rarely exceeding from twenty to seventy men, gave the British endless trouble. Dashing from swamp or forest on the foe when in unconscious security, he hesitated not to attack bodies of British and tories two hundred strong, and usually with marked success. Self- possessed, prudent, yet daring, he took the greatest risks, yet never rashly or without judgment, and was alike successful in attack and in escape from pursuing forces. Meanwhile, General Gates had been sent with a strong army from the North, for the relief of the Southern provinces. He met Corn- wallis at Camden, South Carolina, each party seeking to surprise the other. In the battle that ensued the militia quickly gave way, and the regiments which held their ground were overwhelmed and broken by force of numbers. The rout became general, and the Americans suffered a loss of about one thousand men, with all their artillery and ammunition-wagons. Gates retreated to North Carolina, and Sum- ter's corps was soon after surpi'ised and routed with great slaughter by Tarleton. The province now seemed again reduced, and Cornwallis adopted very severe measures to hold it in subjection. Yet Sumter was soon in the field again, Marion displayed an annoying activity, and a party of tories who had been levied in North Carolina and who committed great atrocities were assailed at King's Mountain by a party of militia and defeated with a loss of three hundred killed and wounded and eight hundred prisoners, the American loss being not more than twenty. These active operations in the South had no counterpart in the North. In the previous year the British force had been withdrawn from Rhode Island, and only some slight excursions from New York took place. In July, Count de Rochambeau, with a powerful French fleet, arrived at Newport ; but no enterprise of importance was undertaken, and the high hopes of aid from the French alliance still proved futile. Yet one event of the highest interest and importance occurred in the North in the autumn of this year, — the treason of Benedict Arnold. This treasonable act had been long premeditated. Passionate, dis- 1 108 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks contented, constantlj^ persuaded that he was neglected and ill treated by Congress, demanding from that body more than it could or would grant, his disaffection grew extreme. While in command in Phila- delphia in 1778, his " illegal and oppressive acts" drew on him the censure of the Council of Pennsylvania, and finally subjected him to a trial by court-martial, which sentenced him to a reprimand from the commander-in-chief. By this time his treasonable sentiments were fully grown, and he began a secret correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, through the medium of Major Andre. Arnold assumed the name of Gustavus, and Andre of John Anderson. These letters were disguised under the form of mercantile communications. Arnold, who wished to injure the American cause and enhance the value of his services to the British as much as possible, now applied for the command of West Point, a post of the utmost value both from its location and from the extensive supply of military stores which it held and covered. His application for this post was heard with sur- prise by Washington, but was finally granted. He at once privately engaged to deliver West Point to the enemy for ten thousand pounds sterling and a brigadier's commission in the British army. In the negotiations for this purpose Major Andre acted as the agent of Sir Henry Clinton. He ascended the Hudson in the sloop-of-war Vulture, secretly landed, and held a conference with Arnold, in which the terms of the treasonable action were arranged. It proving difiicult and dan- gerous to regain the Vulture, Andre was obliged to attempt a return by land. The events which succeeded we select from Sparks's " Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold."] Having no means of getting to the vessel, Andre was compelled to seek his \vay back b}- land. The safest route was supposed to be across the river and in the direction of White Plains. Smith agreed to attend him on the wa}^ till he should be out of danger from the American posts. Thus far Arnold's passports would protect them. All his entreaties being without avail, and having no other resort, Andre submitted to the necessity of his situ- ation, and resolved to pursue the route by land. Arnold had prevailed upon him, in case he took this course, to exchange his military coat for a citizen's dress. It was Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 109 feared that if he was discovered in the uniform of a Brit- ish officer he might be stopped, and perhaps meet with trouble. And here again Smith was made the dupe of Arnold's artifices. When he exj)ressed surprise that a man in a civil capacity and on an errand of business should come from New York in such a dress, Arnold told him that it was owing to the pride and vanity of Anderson, who wished to make a figure as a man of consequence, and had borrowed a coat from a military acquaintance. Upon this representation Smith gave one of his coats in exchange, which Andre put on, leaving his own behind. Thus clad, and covered as before with his dark great-coat, which had a wide cape buttoned close in the neck, and the appearance of having been much worn, Andre was equipped for the joiirney. A little before sunset he and Smith set off, accompanied by a negro servant belonging to the latter. They pro- ceeded to King's Ferry, and crossed the river from Stony Point to Yerplanck's Point. On their way to the ferry they met several persons who were known to Smith, and with whom he conversed, accosting them in a gay and jocular humor, and assuming an air of ease and uncon- cern. He even stopped at a sutler's tent near the ferry, and contributed to the merriment of a pai'ty of loungers by assisting them in drinking a bowl of punch. Andre said nothing, but walked his horse slowly along, and was waiting at the ferry when his companion overtook him. Smith had tried, while on the road, to draw him into con- versation about the taking of Stony Point the year before, and such other topics as he thought would interest him ; but he was reserved and thoughtful, uttering brief replies, and showing no inclination to be interrogated or to talk upon any subject. [At a late hour in the evening they were stopped by a patrolling II. 10 110 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks party, led by Captain Boyd, who proved so inquisitive as to give them much annoyance. He was anxious to learn from Smith the " impor- tant business" that brought them out, warned them that the Cow-boys were out below, and strongly advised them not to proceed till morning. They took his advice, partly perhaps to avoid exciting suspicion, and sought the house of one Andreas Miller, where they were told they might find quarters for the night.] They met with a welcome reception, but, coming at a late hour to a humble dwelling, their accommodations were nai-row, and the two travellers were obliged to sleep in the same bed. According to Smith's account, it was a weary and restless night to his companion. The burden on his thoughts was not of a kind to lull him to repose ; and the place of his retreat, so near the watchful Captain Boyd and his guards, was hardly such as would impress upon him a conviction of perfect security. At the first dawn of light he roused himself from his troubled slumbers, waked the servant, and ordered the horses to be prepared for an early departure. Having solicited their host in vain to receive a compen- sation for the civilities he had rendered, they mounted and took the road leading to Pine's Bridge. The countenance of Andre brightened when he was fairly beyond the reach of the patrolling party, and, as he thought, had left behind him the principal difficulties in his route. His cheerful- ness revived, and he conversed in the most animated and agreeable strain upon a great variety of topics. Smith professes to have been astonished at the sudden and ex- traordinary change which appeared in him, from a gloomy taciturnity to an exuberant flow of spirits, pleasantry, and gay discourse. He talked upon poetry, the arts, and liter- ature, lamented the war, and hoped for a speedy peace. In this manner they passed along, without being accosted by any person, till they came within two miles and a half of Pine's Bi-idge. Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. \\\ [At this place Smith decided that he would go no further. The Cow-boys had recently been seen in that locality, and he did not care to fall into their hands. He therefore took leave of Andre, and re- turned with all speed to his home. On his way he saw Arnold, and gave him an account of the progress of his late companion, of whose true name and actual purpose he was in total ignorance. The Cow-boys were a set of plunderers, belonging to the British side, who infested the neutral ground between the outposts of the two armies. They were opposed by another set of bandits, called Skin- ners, professedly on the American side. The populous territory, some thirty miles in width, which formed the field of operations of these merciless scoundrels, was a dangerous locality for a man in Andre's situation to cross. After parting from Smith he left the road to White Plains, and took the Tarrytown road, having reason to believe that he would there meet with Cow-boys, with whom he hoped to be safe. It happened that same morning that seven patriotic j'oung men had stationed themselves in ambush on this road, with the object of inter- cepting suspicious persons, or droves of cattle, that might be seen pass- ing towards New York. Three of them were concealed in the bushes near the road.] About half a mile north of the village of Tarrytown, and a few hundred yards from the bank of Hudson's River, the road crosses a small brook, from each side of which the ground rises into a hill, and it was at that time cov- ered over with trees and underbrush. Eight or ten rods south of this brook, and on the west side of the road, these men were hidden ; and at that point Andre was stopped, after having travelled from Pine's Bridge with- out interruption. The particulars of this event I shall here introduce, as they are narrated in the testimony given by Paulding and Williams at Smith's trial, wi-itten down at the time by the judge-advocate, and preserved in manuscript among the other papers. This testimony having been taken only eleven days after the capture of Andre, when every cir- cumstance must have been fresh in the recollection of his 112 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks captors, it may be regarded as exhibiting a greater exact- ness in its details than any account hitherto published. In answer to the question of the court, Paulding said, — " Myself, It^aac Van Wart, and David Williams were \y'\ng by the side of the road about half a mile above Tanytown, and about fifteen miles above Kingsbridge, on Saturday morning, between nine and ten o'clock, the 23d of Sep- tember. We had lain there about an hour and a half, as near as I can recollect, and saw several persons we were acquainted with, whom we let pass. Presently one of the young men who were with me said, ' There comes a gentlemanlike-looking man, who appears to be well dressed, and has boots on, and whom you had better step out and stop, if you don't know him.' On that I got up, and pre- sented my firelock at the breast of the person, and told him to stand ; and then I asked him which way he was going. ' Gentlemen,' said he, ' I hope you belong to our party.' I asked him what party. He said, ' The Lower Party.' Upon that I told him I did. Then ho said, ' I am a British officer out of the country on particular busi- ness, and I hope jon will not detain me a minute;' and to show that he was a Bi'itish officer he pulled out his watch. Upon which I told him to dismount. He then said, ' My God, I must do anything to get along,' and seemed to make a kind of laugh of it, and pulled out General Ar- nold's pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all guards to White Plains and below. Upon that he dis- mounted. Said he, ' Gentlemen, you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves into trouble, for your stop- ping me will detain the general's business,' and said he was going to Dobb's Ferry to meet a person there and get intelligence for General Arnold. Upon that I told him I hoped he would not be offended, that we did not mean to take anj'thing from him ; and I told him there were many Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 113 bad people, who were going along the road, and I did not know but perhaps he might be one." When further questioned, Paulding replied that he asked the person his name, who told him it was John Anderson, and that when Anderson produced General Arnold's pass he should have let him go, if he had not before called him- self a British officer. Paulding also said that when the person pulled out his watch he understood it as a signal that he was a British officei*, and not that he meant to oifer it to him as a present. All these particulars were substantially confirmed by David "Williams, whose testimony in regard to the search- ing of Andre, being more minute than Paulding's, is here inserted. "We took him into the bushes," said Williams, "and oi-dered him to pull off his clothes, which he did; but on searching him narrowly we could not find any sort of writings. We told him to pull off his boots, which he seemed to be indifferent about ; but we got one boot off, and searched in that boot, and could find nothing. But we found there were some papers in the bottom of his stocking next to his foot; on which we made him pull his stocking off, and found three papers wrapped up. Mr. Paulding looked at the contents, and said he was a spy. We then made him pull off his other boot, and there we found three more papers at the bottom of his foot within his stocking. " Upon this we made him dress himself, and I asked him what he would give us to let him go. He said he would give us any sum of money. I asked him whether he would give us his horse, saddle, bridle, watch, and one hundred guineas. He said 'Yes,' and told us he would direct them to any place, even if it was that very spot, so that we jould get them. I asked him whether he would II.— A 10* 114 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks give us more. He said he would give us any quantity of dry goods, or any sum of money, and bring it to any place that we might pitch upon, so that we might get it. Mr. Paulding answered, 'No, if you would give us ten thou- sand guineas, you should not stir one step.' I then asked the person, who had called himself John Anderson, if he would not get away if it lay in his power. He answei'ed, 'Yes, I would.' I told him I did not intend he should. While taking him along we asked him a few questions, and we stopped under a shade. He begged us not to ask him questions, and said when he came to any commander he would reveal all. " He was dressed in a blue overcoat, and a tight body- coat, that was of a kind of claret color, though a rather deeper red than claret. The button-holes were laced with gold tinsel, and the buttons drawn over with the same kind of lace. He had on a round hat, and nankeen waist- coat and breeches, with a flannel waistcoat and drawers, boots, and thread stockings." The nearest military post was at North Castle, where Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson was stationed with a part of Sheldon's regiment of dragoons. To that place it was resolved to take the prisoner; and within a few hours he was delivered up to Jameson, with all the papers that had been taken from his boots. [Jameson, finding the suspicious papers to be in Arnold's hand- writing, and not comprehending all that the incident signified, sent Andre under guard to Arnold, together with a letter explaining the circumstance. He was induced to recall this order and detain Andre, but the letter went on. Meanwhile, Washington had arrived in the vicinity of West Point, and sent forward two of his aides to advise Arnold of his approach. They reached there just before the letter from Jameson arrived.] "When the aides arrived at Arnold's house, tbey found THE FLIGHT OF ARNOLD. Sparks] THE TREASON OF ARNOLD. 115 breakfast waiting, as had been supposed. It being now ascertained that Washington and the other gentlemen would not be there, General Arnold, his family, and the aides-de-camp sat down to breakfast. Before they arose from the table, a messenger came with a letter for Arnold, which he broke open and read in presence of the company. It was the letter which Colonel Jameson had written two days before and despatched b}' Lieutenant Allen, and it contained the first intelligence received by Arnold of the capture of Andre. His emotion can be more easily im- agined than described. So great was his control over himself, however, that he concealed it from the persons present ; and, although he seemed a little agitated for the moment, j'et not to such a degi-ee as to excite a suspicion that anything extraordinary had happened. He told the aides-de-camp that his immediate attendance was required at West Point, and desired them to say to General Wash- ington, Avhen he arrived, that he was unexpectedly called over the river and should very soon I'eturn. He ordered a horse to be ready, and then, leaving the table hastily, he went up to Mrs. Arnold's chamber and sent for her. With a brevity demanded by the occasion, he told her that they must instantly joart, pei-haps to meet no more, and that his life depended on his reaching the enemy's lines with- out detection. Struck with horror at this intelligence, so abruptly divulged, she swooned and fell senseless. In that state he left her, hurried down-stairs, mounted a hoi'se belonging to one of his aides that stood saddled at the door, and rode alone with all speed to the bank of the river. He there entered a boat, and directed the oarsmen to push out to the middle of the stream. The boat was rowed by six men, who, having no knowl- edge of Arnold's intentions, promptly obeyed his orders. He quickened their activity by saying that he was going 116 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Sparks down the river and on board the Yulture with a flag, and that he was in great haste, as he expected G-eneral \Yash- ington at his house and wished to return as expeditiously as possible to meet him there. He also added another stimulating motive, by promising them two gallons of rum if they would exert themselves with all their strength. As they approached King's Ferry, Arnold exposed to view a white handkerchief, and ordered the men to row directly to the Yulture, which was now in sight, a little below the place it had occupied when Andre left it. The signal held out by Arnold, while the boat was passing Yerplanck's Point, caused Colonel Livingston to regard it as a flag- boat, and prevented him from ordering it to be stopped and examined. The boat reached the Yulture unobstructed in its pas- sage; and after Arnold had gone on board and introduced himself to Captain Sutherland, he called the leader of the boatmen into the cabin and informed him that he and his companions were prisoners. The boatmen, who had ca- pacity and spirit, said they were not prisoners, that they came on board wdth a flag of truce, and under the same sanction they would return. He then appealed to the captain, demanding justice and a proper respect for the rules of honor. Arnold replied that all this was nothing to the purpose, — that they were prisoners and must re- main on board. Captain Sutherland, disdaining so pitiful an action, though he did not interfere with the positive command of Arnold, told the man that he would take his l^arole, and he might go on shore and procure clothes and "whatever else was wanted for himself and his companions. This was accordingly done the same day. When these men arrived in New York, Sir Henry CHnton, holding in just contempt such a wanton act of meanness, set them all at liberty. Greene] THE COW PENS. 117 [We have not space to give in detail the interesting events that succeeded. Some time elapsed before Arnold's flight was discovered, but when it was known, and the contents of the papers found on Andre were revealed, the whole conspiracy stood bare. Much sym- pathy was felt for Andre, and earnest efforts were made by Clinton and others to obtain for him a respite from the fate which awaited him. Washington was full of feeling for him, considering him a young man of great promise and ability, but his feeling for his country was greater. It would be unsafe to permit such an act to escape its proper penalty, and in his answer to Clinton he signified that Andre could be released only on condition that Arnold should be delivered up to take his place. This could not be complied with, and Andre was hung as a spy, at noon of October 2, 1781.] THE COWPENS AND GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. GEORGE WASHINGTON GREENE. [Late in 1780 America gained another European ally. Holland, which had long been friendly, began the negotiation of a treaty, whereupon England at once declared war. Thus the English govern- ment had three European nations to contend with, in addition to America. Yet Parliament, with undiminished energy, voted a large sum of money for the public service, and ordered the raising of exten- sive sea- and land-forces. Washington's army entered the year in a miserable condition as to pay, clothing, and provisions. So great were its necessities that on the 1st of January the whole Pennsylvania division deserted the camp and declared that they would force Congress to redress their griev- ances. British agents sought to entice them into service under Clin- ton, but they indignantly refused, and were eventually brought back to duty by a committee from Congress. Yet this mutiny gave rise to earnest efforts to relieve the troops. Pvobert Morris, a wealthy Phila- delphia merchant, undertook to collect the taxes, to supply flour to the army, and freely used his own fortune and credit for the support of the suffering soldiers. The Bank of North America was established under 118 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene his care, and did excellent service, and it is said that his exertions alone prevented the army from disbanding, and enabled Congress to prosecute the war with energy. The military operations of the year were mainly confined to the South. In Virginia the traitor Arnold committed great ravages. "Washington formed a plan to capture him and his army, sending La- fayette with a force of twelve hundred men, with whom the French fleet was to co-operate. But the British fleet attacked the French, and forced it to return to Ehode Island, and Arnold, reinforced, con- tinued his destructive inroads. In South Carolina a new and able general had been placed in com- mand of the American troops. Gates had been removed after his defeat at Camden, and General Greene appointed to the command. Soon after he reached the army, though his force was little over two thousand men, he despatched the brave and daring General Morgan to western South Carolina, in order to check the devastations of the invaders in that quarter. Cornwallis, then about to enter North Caro- lina, sent Tarleton against Morgan, whom he did not wish to leave in his rear. Orders were given to "push him to the utmost." Of the events which immediately succeeded we select an account from the valuable "Life of Nathaniel Greene," by George W. Greene.] Tarleton, at this time, held the same place in the confidence of Cornwallis which Lee [Light-Horse Harry] held in that of Greene. He was bold, active, and enter- prising, and had distinguished himself by an adventurous spirit which was in perfect harmony with that of his com- mander. That he was cruel to a conquered enemy, and merciless in laying waste the districts occupied by the Whigs, does not seem to have been regarded as a taint upon his reputation. But, unlike Lee, he was deficient in judgment, often rash, cautious only when his adversary stood at bay, and boldest in the pursuit of a flying eneni}^. The order to push Morgan to the utmost was very wel- come to him, for he was stronger than the American gen- eral by discipline, equipments, and numbers, — his whole force somewhat exceedino; eleven hundred men, inclusive Greene] THE COW PENS. Hg of a detachment Irom the Eoyal Artillery, with two pieces. [Morgan, who had carefully watched the movements of his adver- sary, fell cautiously back, and on the evening of January 16, 1781, halted at a place named the Cowpens. Here he resolved to give battle. His choice of open ground for his battle-field seemed advantageous to Tarleton, as it gave the latter free room for the use of his dreaded cavalry.] When Morgan was blamed for fighting in an open coun- try, with a river in his rear, he calmly answei'ed, " I would not have had a swamp in view of my militia on any con- sideration ; they would have made for it, and nothing could have detained them from it. . . . As to retreat, it was the very thing I wished to cut off all hope of I would have thanked Tarleton had he surrounded me with his cavalry. . . . When men are forced to fight, they will sell their lives dearly. . . . Had I crossed the river, one-half of the militia would immediately have abandoned me."' [The men were scarcely ranged in order of battle when Tarleton came up, and at once prepared for assault. "Without heed to the fact that his men were weary from a long march, he thought to crush Morgan at a blow, and boldly charged upon him.] The American skirmishing line was the first to feel them as they came dashing on, even before their line was com- pletely formed. But all that Morgan asked of his skir- mishers was done, and, though compelled to give way before a charge of cavalry, they fell slowly back, firing as they retreated, and had emptied fifteen saddles before they took shelter with the first line. The English artillery now opened, and the whole line advanced upon the first line of the Americans, who, wait- ing calml}^ until the enemy was within one hundred yards, poured in a deadly fire. The English wavered and slack- 120 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene ened their pace. Officers were falling at every discharge of the fatal rifle, and a visible confusion began to creep into their ranks. It was but momentary. Trained by severe discipline, and familiar with the sights and sounds of battle, they nerved themselves for the deadly encounter, and still moved firmly forward. For a while the militia held their ground, pouring in volley after volley, and every volley told. But the weight of the whole British line was upon them, and, reluctantly yielding to the pressure, they broke and took refuge behind the Continentals. Thus far nothing had occurred which Morgan had not foreseen and provided for ; but the decisive moment was at hand. Would the Marylanders fight as they had fought at Cam- den? The English, elated by the retreat of the militia, came forward with shouts and huzzas, quickening their pace, and somewhat deranging their order. The Americans received them with a well-directed fire, and for fifteen minutes the tide of fight swayed to and fro, the British pressing upon the Americans with the whole weight of their comj)act line, and the Americans holding their ground with undaunted firmness. Then Tarleton, unable to break them, and seeing his own men waver, ordered up his re- serve. At this moment Washington [Colonel William] was seen driving before him that part of tfie enemy's cavalry which had pursued the broken militia, and the militia itself, reformed and still of good heart, came resolutely up to the support of the second line. The British reserve came promptly into action ; and Howard, as he watched it, saw that it outstretched his front and put his right flank in danger. To meet the danger he ordered his right company to change front; but, mistaking the order, it began to fall slowly back, communicating its movement to the rest of the line. Greene] THE COW PENS. 12I Howard suw at a glance that he could still count upon his men ; for, supj^osing that they had been directed to fall back to a new position, they moved as calmly as they would have moved on pai'ade. Instead, therefore, of cor- recting the mistake, he accepted it, and was leading them to the second hill on which the cavalry had been stationed, when Morgan came up. "What is this retreat?" cried the stern old wagoner, in his sternest tones. "A change of position to save my right flank," answered Howard. " Are you beaten ?" " Do men who march as those men march, look as though they were beaten ?" "Eight! I will ride forward and choose you a new position, and, when you reach it, face about and give the enemy another fire." But before they reached the spot, came a messenger from Washington, who had charged and broken the Eng- lish cavalry. " They are coming on like a mob," he said. " Give them another fire, and I will charge them." In a moment the whole line again stood with face to the enemy, who, confident of victory; were eagerly pressing forward, filling the air with their shouts, and too confident and too eager to keep their ranks. In another moment they were shrinking back, stunned and bewildered by the fire of the Americans. " Give them the baj'onet," shouted Howard, and, pressing home his success, led his men upon them in a final charge. The shock was irresistible. Some threw away their arms and sought safety in flight ; but far the greater part threw down their arms and begged for quarter. Then an omi- nous cry began to be heard, and " Tarleton's quarters!" passed with bitter emj^hasis from mouth to mouth. But II. — F 11 122 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene Morgan and his officers, throwing themselves among the men, and appealing to their better nature, succeeded in arresting the impulse of revenge before a life had been taken. When the moment for counting the immediate results of the battle came, it was found that the English had lost eighty killed, ten of whom were officers, one hundred and fifty wounded, and six hundred prisoners. . . . The American loss was twelve killed and sixty-one wounded. Morgan's entire command was about nine hun- dred and eighty strong. But, allowing for the numerous detachments which his position had compelled him to make, he cannot have had more than eight hundred with him in the battle. [This signal victory was followed by rapid and skilful movements. Cornwallis was but thirty miles distant, and was nearer than Morgan to the fords of the Catawba, over which lay the direct road to a junction with Greene. Destroying his heavy baggage, Cornwallis began a rapid march towards these fords. Morgan retreated towards them with still greater rapidity, and succeeded in crossing the river two hours before the vanguard of Cornwallis reached the other side. It was evening, and Cornwallis halted, feeling sure of overtaking Morgan in the morn- ing. But that night a heavy rain swelled the river, and rendered it impassable for two days. Greene, who had left his main body on the Pedee, now arrived and took command, with the idea of disputing the passage and awaiting reinforcements of militia. But the river fell so rapidly that a con- tinued retreat became necessary. Cornwallis destroyed the remainder of his baggage, reduced his men to the lightest marching order, forced the passage of the stream against a guard of militia, and continued the pursuit. Both parties now made all haste to the Yadkin, the Americans again being the first to reach the objective point. But they were so sharply followed that their rear-guard was attacked, and was obliged to abandon part of its baggage to effect a crossing. Here Cornwallis encamped, and again a sudden rise in the river took place, and checked his crossing. These two fortunate events were regarded by many as a direct interposition of Providence in favor of the Ameri- can cause. Greene] GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 123 The retreat and pursuit continued, and only ended after Greene had reached Virginia and placed the Dan between himself and his foe. Mortified and disappointed by the result of his enei-getic eifort, Corn- wallis abandoned the pursuit, and slowly withdrew to North Carolina. Greene, receiving reinforcements, soon followed, and, with an army increased to forty-four hundred men, advanced to Guilford Court- House, where he took an advantageous position and awaited the enemy. Here Cornwallis attacked him on the 15th of March.] Shortly after one, the British van carao in view, and Singleton opened upon them with his two field-pieces. The English artillery was immediately brought forward, and a sharp cannonade was kept up for about twenty minutes, while Cornwallis was drawing up his men. He formed them in one line, with no reserve ; for, knowing their superiority in equipments and discipline, he was resolved to come at once to the bayonet, and drive his adversary before him by one great effort of combined and compact strength. . . . Watching the intervals of the enemy's fire, Cornwallis pushed his columns across the brook, under cover of the smoke from his own artillery ; and the different corps, deploying to the right and left in quick stej), were soon ranged in line of battle. For a moment Greene hoped i\\Qj would not be per- mitted to cross the open field unbroken, and every ear was listening eagerly for the sound of the JN'orth Carolina guns. But it was a moment's hope; for as the ill-nerved militia saw the enemy advance with firm countenance, and regular tread, and arms that flashed and gleamed in the slanting sun, they began to hesitate, and then to shrink ; and when, coming still nearer, he paused, poured in one deadly volley, threw forward his dreaded bayonet, and charged with a shout of anticipated triumph, they broke and fled, throwing away, in the madness of fear, 124 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene their guns, most of them still loaded, their cartouch-boxes, and everything that could impede their movements. In vain their officers tried to stem the torrent of flight. Eaton and Butler and Davie threw themselves before them, seized them by the arms, exhorted, entreated, com- manded, in vain. Lee, spurring in among them, threat- ened to charge them with his cavalry unless they turned again upon the enemy. All was useless ; terror had over- mastered them ; and, dashing madly forward, they were quickly beyond the sound of remonstrance or threat. [The British eagerly pressed onward. And now came the turn of the Virginians.] Undismayed by the dastardly flight of the North Caro- linians, they saw the enemy advance, and, as he came within aiming-distance, opened upon him with the cool- ness of veterans and the precision of practised marksmen. Symptoms of disorder began to appear in the British ranks, and soon their line became sei'iously deranged. But still discipline held thein together ; and, pressing resolutely forward with the bayonet, they compelled the American right to give ground. The left still held firm. By this time all of the British army except the cavalry had been brought into action; all had suffered from the deadly fire of the Americans ; the line was broken and disunited; the corps scattered, from the necessity of facing the different corps of the Americans; and everjnhing seemed to promise Greene a sure victory. Cheei'ed with the prospect, he passed along the line of the Continentals, exhorting them to be firm and give the finishing blow. And soon, following the retreating right wing of the Virginians, "Webster came out on the open space around the court-house, and directly in front of Guuby's Mary- landers. Here for the first time discipline was opposed to Greene] GUILFORD COURT-HOUSE. 125 discipline. The Americans poured in a well directed fire, and before the British, stunned and confused, could recover from the shock, followed it up with the bayonet. The rout was complete ; and had the cavalry been at hand to follow up the blow, or had Greene dared to bring forward another regiment and occupy an eminence which com- manded the field, the fate of the day would have been decided. But these were his only veterans, and the occur- rences of the next quarter of an hour showed the wisdom of his determination not to risk any movement that might endanger his last line. [The left of the Virginians had now given way, and the Second Maryland Eegiment broke and fled. But Gunby and Washington fell upon the advancing guards, and drove them back in rout. Cornwallis pressed forward to observe the field, and came near riding into the ranks of the enemy.] A sergeant of the Eoyal Welsh Fusileers saw his danger, and, seizing the bridle, guided him to the skirt of the wood. Here the whole scene broke upon him. He saw the rout of his best troops ; saw them mixed with their pursuers in irretrievable disorder. The headlong flight must be stayed, or the day was lost, and, with the daj^ the British army. From a small eminence on the skirt of the wood his artil- lery commanded the ground of the deadly conflict. " Open upon them, at once !" he cried. " It is destroying our own men," exclaimed O'Hara, who was bleeding fast from a dangerous wound. "I see it," rephed Cornwallis; "but it is a necessary evil, which we must endure to avert impending destruc- tion." O'Hara turned away with a groan. The fire was opened, striking down equally friends and foes. It checked the pursuit; but half the gallant battalion was destroyed. Still discipline retained its controlling and organizing II. 11* 126 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Greene power. The shattered and disheartened troops were col- lected and formed anew ; formed amid the dead and dying, for a third of their number lay dead or wounded on the field. Meanwhile Greene also had pressed eagerly forward to get a nearer view of the field, without observing that there was nothing between him and the enemy but the saplings that grew by the roadside. But Major Burnet saw it, and warned him of his danger, as he was in the act of riding "full tilt" into them. Turning his horse's head, but with- out quickening his pace, he rode slowlj' back to his own line. It was a trying moment. He had heard nothing from Lee, and naturally feared the worst. The enemy were gaining ground on his right, and had already turned his left flank. The failure of the 2d Maryland regiment had confirmed his distrust of raw troops. It was evident also that the enemy had suff'ered severely. If he had not con- quered, he had crippled them. The chief object for which he had given battle was won ; and, faithful to the resolve not to expose his regulars needlessly, he ordered a retreat. The enemy attempted to pursue, but were soon driven back. At the Reedy Fork, three miles from the field of battle, he halted, drew up his men, and waited several hours for the stragglers to come in. Then, setting for- ward again, he returned to his old encampment at the iron-works of Troublesome Creek. [The American loss in killed and wounded was about four hundred, while the fugitives who returned to their homes increased the total loss to thirteen hundred. The British lost about five hundred. The result of the battle was little less than a defeat to Cornwallis, who gained no profit from Greene's retreat. In a very short time the latter was ready for battle again, which Cornwallis failed to offer. He soon after re- tired to Wilmington, while Greene advanced into South Carolina.] Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 127 THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. ABIEL HOLMES. [Cornwallis having led his army to Wilmington, with the purpose of invading Virginia, General Greene boldly returned to South Caro- lina, and encamped on Hobkirk's Hill, a mile only from Lord Eaw- don's post at Camden. Here he was attacked on April 25, and, after nearly winnii\g a victory, was defeated through the flight of a Marj^- land regiment, whose panic communicated itself to the army. Yet the losses on both sides differed but little, and Lord Kawdon soon found it advisable to retire from Camden, while several British posts were taken by the Americans. The American successes continued, till, by the 5th of June, the British were confined to the three posts of Charleston, Eutaw Springs, and Ninety-Six. Greene besieged Ninety- Six, but failed to take it, and was forced to raise the siege by the approach of reinforcements under Lord Rawdon. This closed the oper- ations for the summer. On the 8th of September, Colonel Stewart, who had succeeded Lord Eawdon in command of the British forces, was attacked by General Greene at Eutaw Springs. The British were at first driven in, but afterwards managed to hold their ground, and after four hours of sanguinary conflict Greene withdrew his troops. During the night Stewart decamped. Soon after this battle the British withdrew entirely from the open country, and confined themselves to Charleston and its vicinity. These events closed the war in the Caro- linas, the British having been driven, by Greene's skilful operations, from all their conquests, and confined to the two cities of Charleston and Savannah. Cornwallis had, meanwhile, left Wilmington and marched north, with the expressed purpose of conquering Virginia. The events which followed this movement were of momentous importance, as they led to a final termination of the war which had so long desolated the coun- try, and enforced the acluiowledgment of American independence. For the first time since the formation of the treaty with France the efforts of the latter country became of marked utility to America, and the French fleet and army had the honor of assisting in the closing scene of the war. A description of this important event we select from 128 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes Holmes's "Annals of America," in which it is given briefly but with clear delineation.] Virginia was destined to be a theatre of still more decisive operations. Lord Cornwallis reached Petersburg, without much opposition, on the 20th of May, and, form- ing a junction with Major-General Phillips, was now at the head of a very powerful army. The defensive oper- ations in opposition to this hostile force were principally intrusted to the Marquis de la Fayette. The marquis ad- vanced to Eichmond ; but such was the superiority of numbers on the side of the British that he retired with his little army, which consisted of about one thousand regulars, two thousand militia, and sixty dragoons. Lord Cornwallis advanced from Petersburg to James Eiver, which he crossed at Westown, and, marching through Hanover County, crossed Pamunkey Eiver. The young marquis followed his motions, but at a guarded distance ; and his judgment in the selection of posts, with the vigor of his movements, would have reflected honor on a vet- eran commander. In the course of these marches and countermarches, immense quantities of property were de- stroyed by the British troops, and several unimportant skirmishes took place. Earl Cornwallis, who had marched with his army to Portsmouth, was at length instructed by an express from Sir Henry Clinton to secure Old Point Comfort or Hampton Eoad as a station for line-of-battle 8hij)s, and was allowed to detain any part or the whole of the forces under his command for completing that service. A strong and permanent place of arms in the Chesapeake, for the security of both the army and navy, being a prin- cipal object of the campaign, and Portsmouth and Hamp- ton Eoad having been pronounced unfit for that purpose, Portsmouth was evacuated, and the British troops, amount- ing to seven thousand men, were transferred to Yorktown. Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 129 Lord Cornwallis assiduously applied himself to fortify his new posts. While the officers of the British navy were expecting to be joined by their fleet in the West Indies, preparatory to vigorous operations in Virginia, Count de Grasse with a French fleet of twenty-eight sail of the line entered the Chesapeake, and, having blocked up York Eiver with three large ships and some frigates, moored the principal part of his fleet in Lynnhaven Bay. From this fleet three thousand two hundred French troops, com- manded by the Marquis de St. Simon, were disembarked, and soon after formed a junction with the Continental troops under the Marquis de la Fayette, and the whole combined army took post at Williamsburg. Admiral Graves, with twenty sail of the line, attempted the relief of Loi-d Cornwallis ; but, when he appeared off the capes of Virginia, M. de Grasse went out to meet him, and an indecisive engagement took place. While the two admi- rals were manoeuvring near the mouth of the Chesapeake, Count de Barras, with a French fleet of eight line-of-battle ships from Ehode Island, passed the British fleet in the night, and got within the capes of Virginia ; and by this combination the French had a decided superiority. Ad- miral Graves soon took his departure ; and M. de Grasse re-entered the Chesapeake. In the mean time, the combined forces of France and America, by an effectual but unsuspected plan of opera- tions, were tending, as to a central point, to Virginia. As early as the month of May, a plan of the whole campaign had been fixed on by General Washington in consultation with Generals Knox and Du Portail on the part of the Americans, and Count de Eochambeau and the Chevalier Chastellux on the part of the French, in an interview at AVethersfield. The project was to lay siege to New York in concert with a French fleet, which, was to arrive on the II. — i 130 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes coast in the month of August. In prosecution of this plan, the Northei-n States were called on to fill up their battal- ions, and to have their quotas of militia in readiness on a week's notice. The French troops marched from Ehode Island and joined the American army early in July. About the same time, General Washington marched his army from its winter encampment, near Peek's Kill, to the vicinity of King's Bridge; General Lincoln fell down North Eiver, and took possession of the ground where Fort Independence formerly stood ; and the British with almost the whole of their force retired to York Island. General Washington was diligent in preparing to com- mence operations against New York. Flat-bottomed boats sufficient to transport five thousand men were built near Albany, and bi-ought down Hudson's River to the neighbor- hood of the American army ; ovens were built opposite to Staten Island for the use of the French troops ; and every movement was made for the commencement of a siege. About the middle of August, General Washington was in- duced to make a total change of the plan of the campaign. The tardiness of the States in filling up their battalions and embod^'ing their militia, the peculiar situation of Lord Cornwallis in Virginia, the arrival of a reinforcement of three thousand Germans from Europe to New York, the strength of the garrison of that city, and especially intel- ligence from Count de Grasse that his destination was fixed to the Chesapeake, determined the general to direct the operations of the combined arms against Lord Cornwallis. Having resolved to lead the expedition in person, he com- mitted the defence of the posts on Hudson's River to Major- General Heath, and proceeded on the grand enterjjrise. While, with consummate address, he kept up the appear- ance of an intention to attack New York, the allied army, amounting collectively to twelve thousand men, crossed Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 131 the North Eiver, and passed on by the way of Philadel- phia to Yorktown: General Washington and Count Eo- chambeau reached Williamsburg on the 14th of September, and, with Generals Chasteilux, Du Portail, and Knox, vis- ited Count de Grasse on board his ship and agreed on a plan of operations. Yorktown is a small village on the south side of York River, whose southern banks are high, and in whose waters a ship of the line may ride with safety. Gloucester Point is a piece of land on the opposite shore, projecting deeply into the river. Both these posts were occupied by Lord Cornwallis ; and a communication between them was com- manded by his batteries, and by some ships of war. The main body of his army was encamped on the open grounds about Yorktown, within a range of outer redoubts and field- works ; and Lieutenant-Colonel Tarleton with a detach- ment of six hundred or seven hundred men held the post at Gloucester Point. The legion of the Duke de Lauzun, and a brigade of militia under General Weedon, the whole commanded by the French general De Choise, were directed to watch and restrain the enemy on the side of Gloucester; and the grand combined army, on the 30th of September, moved down to the investiture of Yorktown. In the even- ing the troops halted about two miles from York, and lay all night on their arms. Causeways .having been con- structed in the night over a morass in front of the British works, the Continental infantry marched the next morn- ing in columns to the right of the combined forces. A few cannon-shot were fired from the British work on the Hamp- ton road ; and some riflemen skirmished with the pickets of the Anspach battalions on the left. The two armies cautiously observed each other; but nothing material occurred until evening, when an express-boat arrived at Yorktown with a letter from Sir Henry Clinton to Earl 132 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes Cornwallis, giving him assurance that joint exertions of the army and navy would be made for his rehef To this letter is attributed an order for the British troops to quit the outward and retire to the inner position ; in compli- ance with which, that movement was effected before day- break. The next morning, Colonel Scammell with a recon- noitring party, falling in with a detachment of picked dragoons, was driven back, and in attempting a retreat was mortally wounded, and taken prisoner. He was an officer of great merit, and his death was deeply lamented. In the course of the forenoon the allies took possession of the ground that had been abandoned by the British. On the 9th and 10th of October the French and Ameri- cans opened their batteries. On the night of the 11th the second parallel was opened within three hundred yards of the British lines. The besiegers being annoyed in their trenches by two redoubts that were advanced in front of the British works, it was proposed to carry them hj storm. The reduction of one redoubt was committed to the French ; of the other, to the Americans. The Marquis de la Faj'ette commanded the American detachment of light infantry, against the redoubt on the extreme left of the British works ; and the Baron de Yiomenil led the French grenadiers and chasseurs against the other, which was farther toward the British right, and nearer the French lines. On the evening of the 14th the two de- tachments moved firmly to the assault. Colonel Hamilton led the advanced corps of the Americans ; and Colonel Laurens, at the head of eighty men, turned the redoubt, in order to take the garrison in reverse and intereej)t their retreat. The troops rushed to the assault with un- loaded arms, and in a few minutes carried the redoubt, with inconsiderable loss. The French were also success- ful. The redoubt assigned to them was soon carried, but Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORN WAL LIS. 133 with less rapidity and greater loss. These two redoubts were included the same night in the second parallel, and facilitated the subsequent operations of the besiegers. On the 16th a sortie was made fi'om the garrison by a party of three hundred and fifty, commanded by Lieuten- ant-Colonel Abercrombie, who forced two batteries and spiked eleven pieces of cannon ; but, the guards from the trenches immediately advancing on them, they retreated, and the pieces which they had hastily spiked were soon rendered fit for service. In the afternoon of the same day the besiegers opened several batteries in their second parallel ; and in the whole line of batteries nearly one hundred pieces of heavy ordnance were now mounted. The works of the besieged were so universally in ruins as to be in no condition to sustain the fire which might be expected the next day. In this extremity, Lord Corn- wallis boldly resolved to attempt an escape by land with the greater part of his army. His plan was to cross over in the night to Gloucester Point, cut to pieces or disperse the troops under De Choise, and, mounting his infiintry on the horses belonging to that detachment, and on others to be seized on the road, to gain the fords of the great rivers, and, forcing his way through Maryland, Pennsyl- vania, and Jersey, to form a junction with the royal army at New York. In prosecution of this desperate design, one embarkation of his troops crossed over to the Point ; but a violent storm of wind and rain dispersed the boats and frustrated the scheme. In the morning of the 17th several new batteries were opened in the second parallel ; and, in the judgment of Lord Cornwallis, as well as of his engineers, the place was no longer tenable. About ten in the forenoon his lordship, in a letter to Genei-al Washington, requested that there might be a cessation of hostilities for twenty- II. 12 134 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Holmes four hours, and that commissioners might be appointed to digest terms of capitulation. The American general in his answer declared his '• ardent desire to spare the further effusion of blood, and his readiness to listen to such terms as were admissible," and gi-anted a suspension of hostili- ties for two hours. The general propositions stated by Lord Cornwallis for the basis of the proposed negotiation being such as to lead to the opinion that the terms of capitulation might without much difficulty be adjusted, the suspension of hostilities was prolonged through the night. Commissioners were appointed the next day to digest into form such articles as General Washington had drawn up and proposed to Lord Cornwallis ; and early the next morning the American general sent them to his lord- ship with a letter expressing his expectation that they would be signed by eleven, and that the garrison would march out by two in the afternoon. Lord Cornwallis, submitting to a necessity absolutely inevitable, surren- dered the posts of Yorktown and Gloucester Point with the garrison, and the shipping in the harbor with the seamen, to the land and naval officers of America and France. By the articles of capitulation, the officers were to retain their side-arms and private property. The sol- diers, accompanied by a due proportion of officers, were to remain in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania ; and the officers not required for this service were to be allowed to go on parole to Europe or to any maritime port occupied by the English in America. The garrison marched out of the town with colors cased; and General Lincoln, by appointment, received the submission of the royal army precisely in the same manner in. which the submission of his own army had been previously made at the sm-render of Charleston. [The army and officers, and particularly the artillerists and engi- Holmes] THE SURRENDER OF CORNWALLIS. 135 neers, received great approbation for their excellent conduct in this decisive operation. Several of the officers were promoted, others were honorably mentioned, while the Count de Kochambeau received the highest acknowledgments. Congress passed resolutions of thanks to the French officers and army, and resolved that a monument should be erected at Yorktown in commemoration of the triumphant event.] General Washington, on this very joj'ful occasion, ordered that those who were under arrest should be pardoned and set at liberty, and closed his orders in the following pious and impressive manner: "Divine service shall be per- formed to-morrow in the different brigades and divisions. The commander-in-chief recommends that all the troops that are not upon duty do assist at it wiih a serious de- portment, and that sensibility of heart which the recollec- tion of the surprising and particular interjiosition of Divine Providence in our favor claims." Congress resolved to go in solemn procession to the Dutch Lutheran church, to return thanks to Almighty God for crowning the allied arms with success, and issued a proclamation appointing the 13th day of December " as a day of general thanks- giving and prayer, on account of this signal interposition of Divine Providence." [Although some minor hostilities continued, the surrender of Coi'n- wallis virtually ended the war, which now grew strongly unpopular in England. Commissioners for negotiating peace were soon after ap- pointed. On the part of the United States these wei'e John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens; on the part of Great Britain, Mr. Fitzherbert and Mr. Oswald. Provisional articles were agreed to on November 30, and a cessation of hostilities was ordered on January 20 of the following year. During this year the independence of the United States was generally acknowledged throughout Europe, and the final treaty of peace was signed on Sep- tember 3. The British had been compelled to evacuate Savannah and Charleston during 1782, and on the 2.5th of November, 1783, New York was evacuated, and the country finally freed of the foe against whom its people had so long and so bitterly contended.] 136 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall SECTION VIII. THE UNION FOUNDED AND SUSTAINED THE ARMY AND COUNTRY AFTER THE WAR. JOHN MARSHALL. [The close of the Revohitionary War found America in anything but an enviable state. Financially there was a complete collapse. The army, unpaid, and with no prospect of being paid, was in a des- perate and dangerous mood. The only man who possessed any con- trolling influence over it was its illustrious commander ; and had he been ambitious of power the newly-formed government might have been overturned, and a monarchy erected upon its ruins. Happily, Washington was a patriot in the fullest sense. His one controlling thought was the good of his country, and all his great influence was used to abate the discontent of the soldiers, and to remove the perils which threatened the infant republic. The country had become virtually bankrupt. The year 1782 opened without a dollar in the public treasury. Congress had required the payment of two millions on the 1st of April, yet not a cent had been received by the 23d of that month. Rigid reforms in expenditure had been introduced, yet the absolutely necessary expenses could not be met, and on the 1st of June only twenty thousand dollars, little more than was required for the use of one day, had reached the treasury. Robert Morris, the minister of finance, made every possible exertion to sustain the public credit. The bank he had established at Philadel- phia, and the system of credit he had inaugurated, were of the utmost utility; but they could not accomplish miracles, and miracles were needed to pay money out of an empty purse. Fortunately for America, the British public was thoroughly tired of Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 137 the war, and the sentiment in Parhament soon became overpoweringly in favor of peace. Yet it was not certain that peace would be declared, while it was evident that Great Britain was seeking to make terms with the European allies of America. No important warlike opera- tions took place, however. The British army lay quietly in New York, and its commander took measures to restrain those incursions of hostile Indians upon the frontier settlements which had formed a terrible part of the British policy during the war. That the commis- sioners at Paris would succeed in making a treaty of peace became evident as time went on. Yet the army was still under arms, and still unpaid. The States grew more and more lax in forwarding their con- tributions to the minister of finance, and Congress was without power to lay a tax, or to enforce payment from the States. A state of affairs had been reached in which the fatal weakness of the established form of union became evident, and the necessity of a stronger central gov- ernment vitallj' apparent. By the month of August only eighty thou- sand dollars had been received from all the States, a sum barely sufB- oient for the subsistence of the army. To pay the troops was impossible, and nearly every other debt remained unpaid. The events which suc- ceeded this distressing state of affairs may be given in a selection from Chief-Justice Marshall's " Life of George Washington," in which they are detailed at length.] It was then in contemplation to reduce the army, by which many of the officers would be discharged. While the general declared, in a confidential letter to the Secre tary of War, his conviction of the alacrity with which they would retire into private life, could they be placed in a situation as eligible as that they had left to enter into the service, he added, " Yet I cannot help fearing the re- sult of the measure, when I see such a number of men goaded by a thousand stings of reflection on the past, and of anticipation on the future, about to be turned into the world, soured by penury, and what they call the ingrati- tude of the public ; involved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the flower of their days, and, many of them, their patrimo- II. 12* 138 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall nies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country, and having suffered everj'tbing which human nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. 1 repeat it, when I reflect on these irritable circumstances, unattended by one thing to soothe their feelings or brighten the gloomy prospect, I cannot avoid apprehending that a train of evils will follow of a very serious and distressing nature. . . . You may rely u^ion it, the patience and long- suffering of this army are almost exhausted, and there never was so great a spirit of discontent as at this instant. While in the field, I think it may be kept from breaking out into acts of outrage ; but when we retire into winter quarters (unless the storm be previously dissij)ated) I cannot be at ease respecting the consequences. It is high time for a peace." [A resolution had been passed in 1780, granting half-pay for life to the officers. Yet not only was there no prospect of money to meet this requirement, but a spirit unfriendly to the law had arisen in Con- gress. This legislative hostility increased the irritation of the officers. In October the army went into winter-quarters. Washington re- mained in camp, not through fear of military operations, but from dread of some outbreak of violence in the army.] In America the approach of peace, combined with other causes, pi'oduced a state of things highly interesting and critical. There was much reason to fear that Congress possessed neither the power nor the inclination to comply with its engagements to the army ; and the officers who had wasted their fortunes and their prime of life in unre- warded service could not look with unconcern at the pros- pect which was opening to them. In December, soon after going into winter-quarters, the}'' presented a petition to Congress, respecting the money actually due them, and the commutation of the half-pay stipulated by the reso- lution of October, 1780, for a sum in gross, which they Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 139 flattered themselves would be less objectionable than the half-pay establishment. [There was a strong party in Congress jealous of and hostile to the demands of the army. The question of funding the public debt, whether in State or Continental securities, was also a subject of slow debate.] In consequence of these divisions on the most interest- ing points, the business of the army advanced slowly; and the important question regarding the commutation of their half-pay remained undecided in March, when intelligence was received of the signature of the preliminary and eventual articles of peace between the United States and G-reat Britain. Soured by their past sufferings, their present wants, and their gloomy prospects, and exasperated by the neglect with which they believed themselves to be treated, and by the injustice supposed to be meditated against them, the ill-temper of the army was almost universal, and seemed to require only a slight impulse to give it activity. To render this temper the more dangerous, an opinion had been insinuated, that the commander-in-chief was restrained by extreme delicac}^ from advocating their in- terests with tbat zeal which his feelings and knowledge of their situation had inspired. Early in March a letter was received from their committee in Philadelphia, show- ing that the objects they soHcited had not been obtained. On the 10th of that month an anonymous paper was cir- culated, requiring a meeting of the general and field officers at the public building on the succeeding day at eleven in the morning. . . . On the same day was privately circulated an address to the army, admirably well prepared to work on the pas- sions of the moment and to conduct them to the most desperate resolutions. . . . 140 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall Persuaded as the officei's in general were of the indis- position of government to remunerate their services, this eloquent and passionate address, dictated by genius and by feeling, found in almost every bosom a kindred though latent sentiment, prepared to receive its impression. Like a train to which a torch is applied, the passions quickly caught its flame, and nothing seemed to be required but the assemblage invited on the succeeding day to commu- nicate the conflagration to the combustible mass, and to produce an explosion alike tremendous and ruinous. Fortunately, the commander-in-chief was in camp. His characteristic firmness and decision did not fail him in this crisis. The occasion required that his measures should be firm, yet prudent and conciliatory; evincive of his firm determination to oppose any rash proceedings, but calcu- lated to assuage the irritation which was excited and to restore a confidence in government. This course he at once adopted. Knowing well that it was much easier to avoid intemperate measures than to correct them, he thought it of essential importance to prevent the immediate meeting of the officers ; but, knowing also that a sense of injury and fear of injustice had made a deep impression on them, and that their sensibilities were all alive to the proceedings of Congress on their memorial, he thought it more ad- visable to guide than to discountenance their delibera- tions on that interesting subject. [Washington's efforts in this direction proved successful. Though the anonjniious writer circulated another insidious document on the succeeding day, the admirable address made them by the commander- in-chief powerfully impressed the officers, and drew from them a series of resolutions expressive of confidence in Congress and the country and strongly condemning the sentiments of the unknown writer. Washington then wrote to Congress, and induced that body to pass the commutation resolution.] Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 141 The treaty between the United States and Great Britain being eventual, it furnished no security against a continu- ance of the calamities of war ; and the most serious fears were entertained that the difficulties opposed to a general pacification would not be removed. These fears were entirely dispelled by a letter from the Marquis de La Fayette announcing a general peace. This intelligence, though not official, was certain ; and orders wei-e immedi- ately issued recalling all armed vessels cruising under the authority of the United States. Early in April the copy of a declaration published in Paris, and signed by the American commissioners, notifying the exchange of rati- fications of the preliminary articles between Great Britain and France, was received; and the cessation of hostilities was proclaimed. The attention of Congress might now safely be turned to the reduction of the Continental army. This was a critical operation, and, in the present state of the funds, by no means exempt from danger. Independent of the anxieties which the officers would naturally feel respecting their future provision, which of necessity remained un- secured, large arrears of pay were due to them, the im- mediate receipt of part of which was necessary to supply the most urgent wants. To disband an army to which the government was greatly indebted, without furnishing the means of conveying the individuals who composed it to their respective homes, could scarcely be undertaken ; and Congress was unable to advance the pay of a single month. Although for the year 1782 eight million had been re- quired, the payments made into the public treasury under that requisition had amounted to only four hundred and twenty thousand and thirtj^-one dollars and twenty-nine ninetieths, and the foreign loans had not been sufficient 142 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Marshall to defray expenses it was impossible to avoid. At the close of that year the expenditures of the superintendent of the finances had exceeded his receipts four hundred and four thousand seven hundred and thirteen dollai's and nine ninetieths, and the excess continued to increase. [Congress, in this dilemma, instructed the commander-in-chief to grant furloughs freely to the officers and men, hoping thus quietly to reduce the army. This order produced serious alarm. It was sup- posed that the authorities were seeking to get rid of them without paying them, and Washington's persuasions dnd influence were again necessary to quiet the murmurs. He succeeded in this troublesome task.] The utmost good temper was universally manifested, and the arrangements for retiring on furlough were made without a murmur. In the course of the summer a con- siderable proportion of the troops enlisted for three years were also permitted to return to their homes ; and in October a proclamation was issued by Congress declaring all those who had engaged for the war to be discharged on the third of December. While these excellent dispositions were manifested by the veterans serving under the immediate eye of their patriot chief, the government was exposed to insult and outrage from the mutinous spirit of a small party of new levies. About eighty of this description of troops belong- ing to the State of Pennsylvania were stationed at Lan- caster. Revolting against the authority of their oflScers. they marched in a body to Philadelphia, with the avowed purpose of obtaining a redress of their grievances from the Executive Council of the State. The march of these insolent mutineers was unobstructed, and after arriving in Philadelphia they were joined by some other troops quar- tered in the barracks, so as to amount to about three hundred men. They then marched in military parade, Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 143 with fixed bayonets, to the State-House, where Congress and the Executive Council of the State were sitting. After placing sentinels at all the, doors, they sent in a written message, threatening the President and Council of the State to let loose an enraged soldiery upon them if their demands were not gratified in twenty minutes. Although the resentments of this banditti were not directed par- ticularly against Congress, the government of the Union was grossly insulted, and those who administered it wei'e blockaded for several- hours by an insolent and licentious soldier3^ After remaining in this situation about three hours. Congress separated, having fixed on Princeton as the place at which they should reassemble. On receiving information of this outi'age, the com- mander-in-chief instantly detached fifteen hundred men under the command of Major-General Howe to suppress the mutiny. The indignation which this insult to the civil au- thority had occasioned, and the mortification with which he viewed the misconduct of any portion of the American troops, were strongly marked in his letter written on that occasion to the President of Congress. . . . Before the detachment from the army could reach Phil- adelphia, the disturbances were in a great degree quieted without bloodshed ; but Major-General Howe was oi-dered by Congress to continue his march into Pennsylvania, "in order that immediate measures might be taken to confine and bring to trial all such yjersons belonging to the army as have been principally active in the late mutiny; to disarm the remainder ; and to examine fully into all the circumstances relating thereto." . . . At length, on the 25th of November, the British troops evacuated New York, and a detachment from the Ameri- can army took possession of that town. The guards being posted for the security of the citizens, 144 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall General "Washington, accompanied by Grovernor Clinton, and attended by many civil and military officers and a large number of respectable inhabitants on horseback, made his public entry into the city, where he was re- ceived with every mark of respect and attention. His military course was now on the point of terminating; and previous to divesting himself of the supreme command he was about to bid adieu to his comrades in arms. This affecting interview took place on the fourth of December. At noon, the principal officers of the army assembled at Frances' tavern ; soon after which their be- loved commander entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to them and said, " "With a heart full of love and gratitude I now take leave of you ; I most devoutly wish that your later days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable." Having drunk, he added, " I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you if each of you will come and take me by the hand." General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable of utterance, "Washington grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affec- tionate manner he took leave of each succeeding officer. In every eye was the tear of dignified sensibility ; and not a word was articulated to interrupt the majestic silence and the tenderness of the scene. Leaving the room, he passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to "Whitehall, where a barge waited to carry him to Powles' Hook. The whole company followed in mute and solemn procession, with dejected countenance^, testi- fying feelings of delicious melancholy, which no language can describe. Having entered the barge, he turned to the company, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu. They paid him the same affectionate compliment, and, Marshall] AFTER THE WAR. 145 after the barge had left them, returned in the same solemn manner to the place where they had assembled. [Washington proceeded to Annapolis, where Congress was then in session, in order to resign his commission into their hands. He reached there on December 19. It was determined that the ceremony should take place on Tuesday, December 23.] When the hour arrived for performing a ceremony so well calculated to recall to the mind the various interest- ing scenes which had passed since the commission now to be returned was granted, the gallery was crowded with spectators ; and many respectable persons, among whom were the legislative and executive characters of the State, several general officers, and the consul-general of France, were admitted on the floor of Congress. The representatives of the sovereignty of the Union re- mained seated and covered. The spectators were standing and uncovered. The general was introduced by the secre- tary, and conducted to a chair. After a decent interval, silence was commanded, and a short pause ensued. The President then informed him that "The United States in Congress assembled were prepared to receive his commu- nications." With a native dignity improved by the solem- nity of the occasion, the general rose and delivered the following addi'ess : " Mr. President, — " The great events on which my resignation depended having at length taken place, I have now the honor of offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indul- gence of retiring from the service of my countr}-. "Happy in the confirmation of our independence and II. — G k 13 146 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Marshall sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with diffidence, — a diffidence in my abilities to accomphsh so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a con- fidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of heaven. " The successful termination of the war has verified the most sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for the interj)osition of Providence, and the assistance I have re- ceived from my countiymen, increases with every review of the momentous contest. " While I repeat my obligations to the army in general, I should do injustice to my own feehngs not to acknowl- edge in this place the peculiar services and distinguished merits of the gentlemen who have been attached to my person during the war. It was impossible the choice of confidential officers to compose my family should have been more fortunate. Permit me, sir, to recommend in particu- lar those who have continued in the service to the present moment, as worthy of the favorable notice and patronage of Congress. " I consider it as an indispensable duty to close this last act of my official life by commending the interests of our dearest country to the protection of Almighty God, and those who have the superintendence of them to his holy keeping. " Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action, and, bidding an affection- ate farewell to this a^igwst body, under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take my leave of all the employments of public life." • [This patriotic renunciation of power by Washington, so different from the example of Cassar, Cromwell, and other military heroes, who Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 147 have ended wars at the head of victorious armies and with a country at their mercy, has deservedly excited the admiration of the world, and stamps George "Washington as one of the greatest men that ever led an army to battle. His address to Congress was eloquently replied to by General Mifflin, the President of that body, after which he retired to Mount Vernon, exchanging the labors of the camp for the industries of a farm, and bearing with him the esteem not only of his own countrymen, but of all civilized mankind. The financial result of the war Avas a foreign debt of eight millions and a domestic debt of more than thirty millions of dollars. The paper money of the Confederacy had become worthless, while the States were very slow in supplying money to pay the arrears due the soldiers and the other pressing debts. They had their own local debts to provide for, and their governments to support. The country was impoverished, and taxes could not be collected. Some of the States endeavored, by heavy taxation, to raise money to satisfy their cred- itors. In consequence of the disorganized condition of affiiirs, and the general distress, a serious insurrection, known as "Shays' Eebel- lion," broke out in Massachusetts, which it took a military force of several thousand men to suppress. It was becoming increasingly evi- dent that the hands of the central government must be strengthened and new methods of administration adopted, or the confederacy of the States would ere long fall to pieces of its own weight.] THE MAKING OF THE CONSTITUTION. RICHARD FROTHINGHAM. [The Articles of Confederation of the United States of America were finally ratified on the 1st of March, 1781, and announced to the public amid discharges of cannon on land and from the vessels in the Dela- ware, conspicuous among which was the Ariel frigate, Paul Jones commanding. Yet the Articles were scarcely confirmed, amid pane- gyrics both at home and abroad upon the government thus instituted, when they proved lamentably insufficient. Powers which had been before exercised by Congress were taken from it by the Articles, — par- 148 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Fkothingham ticularly the control of commerce. Congress could obtain a revenue only by requisitions upon the States ; it had no common executive, no machinery by which to enforce its decrees, and formed rather a con- sulting body than a governmental power. Yet the Confederacy had its merits. It settled the long dispute between Connecticut and Pennsylvania, — one of the few instances of the adjustment of quarrels between independent States by an arbi- trating body. It met the pressing needs of the time, and served as an educational institution whose defects were lessons of the utmost value to the statesmen of America. It soon became generally felt that a change was necessary. Adams, Hamilton, Washington, and others deplored the weakness of Congress. A bill was passed recommending the States to lay an impost of five per cent, on imported goods. Some States acceded to this measure ; others failed to do so. Madison, con- sequently, urged " the necessity of arming Congress with coercive powers," in order to force the delinquent States to do their duty. The conclusion of the war, and the establishment of peaceful rela- tions between the United States and England, made the need of a revision of the governmental organization yet more clearly evident. Robert Morris wrote, " The necessity of strengthening our confederacy, providing for our debts, and forming some federal constitution, begins to be most seriously felt." Great Britain adopted measures calculated to create disunion between the States, endeavoring to treat with them as individuals. The war was succeeded by a commercial conflict, in which the recent enemy of the States sought in every way to restrict and hamper their commerce, adopting measures which the Confederacy proved inadequate to combat. It had become strikingly evident that a stronger government must be organized, and the legislators of the country applied themselves to the task. Most prominent among these advocates of a change of gov- ernment were Hamilton and Madison. These two men, both of them of unusual intellectual ability and thorough education in statesmanship, radically difl'ered in views. Hamilton supported the aristocratic sen- timent, distrusted the capacity of the people for self-government, and tended towards the formation of a vigorously centralized nation. Madison held opposite opinions, and advocated democratic doctrines. Minor differences of opinion existed. Franklin held to his long- entertained view of a single legislative body. Richard Henry Lee ob- jected to giving Congress the power to regulate commerce. Madison proposed to give Congress authority to veto State laws. He was also Frothixgham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. I49 the first to propose a government for the Union acting upon individ- uals instead of upon States. Washington took an active part in these expressions of opinion, and wisely remarked, " I do not conceive we can exist long as a nation without having lodged somewhere a power that will pervade the whole Union in as energetic a manner as the authority of the State governments extends over the several States." The succeeding events, which resulted in the formation and adoption of the Constitution of the United States, are admirably described in Frothingham's " Eise of the Kepublic of the United States," from which work we select a digest of this highly important legislative proceeding.] The method of obtaining an American Constitution through a representative convention was historical, and was suggested when the idea was to form a union that should be consistent with allegiance to the crow^n. It was renewed in the speculations on independence, and in " Common Sense," in 1776. When the aim was to reform the Confederation, a convention was suggested by Hamil- ton in 1780 ; by Pelatiah Webster in 1781 ; by the Xew York legislature in 1782 ; was named in Congress by Hamilton in 1783 ; was j^roposed by Eichard Henry Lee in a letter in 1784; and was recommended by Governor Bowdoin in a speech to the Massachusetts legislature in 1785. Ko action, however, grew out of these suggestions. In 1786, the Assembly of Virginia, under the lead of jVIad- ison, appointed commissioners to meet in convention and consider the question of commerce, with the view of alter- ing the Articles of Confederation ; and it was made the duty of this committee to invite all the States to concur in the measure. [The convention met at Annapolis, with delegates from five States, on September 11, 1786. The representation was so partial that no action was taken, other than to urge the appointment of commissioners from all the States, to meet in Philadelphia, on the second Monday of II. 13* 150 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham the next May, to consider such measures as were necessary to adapt the Federal Constitution to the exigencies of the Union.] In the mean time, national affairs grew worse. To the chronic neglect to comply with the requisitions of Con- gress, the New Jersey legislature added positive refusal by an act of legislation. The legislatures of States having ports for foreign commerce taxed the people of other States trading through them ; others taxed imports from sister States ; in other instances the navigation-laws treated the people of other States as aliens. The authority of Congress was disregarded by violating not only the treaty of Paris, but treaties with France and Holland. . . . This was the period of " Shays' Eebellion" in Massachu- setts, in which the spirit and example of disobedience to law, exhibited for years by the local legislatures, broke out among a people. It created a profound impression. At home it seemed a herald of approaching anarchy ; abroad it exalted the hopes of monarchists and was regarded as the knell of republicanism. The treason was easily sub- dued by a military force, under General Lincoln, called out by Governor Bowdoin. It was the first rising in arms against a. government established by the people in this State, and thus far has proved the last. It had the effect to ripen the public mind for a general government. [Immediately after this event (November 9, 1786), Virginia ap- pointed commissioners to the projected convention. Other States quickly followed, all the States electing delegates except Ehode Island.] The delegates elect were summoned to meet in Phila- delphia on the fourteenth day of Maj" [1787], in Indepen- dence Hall ; but, a majority of the States not being then represented, those present adjourned from day to day until the twenty-fifth. They then organized into a convention, INDEPENDENCE HALL, PIIILAl U.LI Jl I A. Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 15] and elected George Washington as President. Sixtj^-five delegates had been chosen ; ten, however, did not take their seats. The credentials, generally, are like those of Virginia, which name, as the object, to devise "such fur- ther provisions as may be necessary to render the Federal Constitution adequate to the exigencies of the Union." The members were identified with the heroic and wise counsels of the Revolution. The venerable Franklin was in the Albany Convention, and now, at eighty-one, was the President of Pennsylvania. Johnson of Connecticut, Rut- ledge of South Carolina, and Dickinson, were in the Stamp Act Congress. Seven of the delegates were in the Con- gress of 1774. Eight of them signed the Declaration of Independence, one of whom, James Wilson, was next to Madison in ability, culture, and preparation for the work before them. Eighteen were then members of Congress, and only twelve had not been members of this body. Among the great men who were elected, but declined, were Eichard Caswell and Patrick Henry. The delegates most distinguished by Revolutionary service were Lang- don, Gerry, Sherman, Livingston, Read, Mifflin, Morris, Clymer, Wilson, Mason, Wythe, Rutledge, Randoljjh, the two Pinckneys, Madison, Hamilton, Dickinson, Franklin, and Washington. Of those who were destined to be widely known were Rufus King, Caleb Strong, Nathaniel Gorham, Oliver Ellsworth, Jared Ingersoll, and James McHenry. This roll of names marks the rank of this assembly as to intellect, character, exj^erience, and patriotism. The Convention was occupied for nearly four months (May 25 to September 17) in its great labor. Its sessions were held with closed doors; secrecy was enjoined, — no member being even allowed to copy fi'om its journal ; and little transpired of its proceedings until its adjournment. Its journal was intrusted to the keeping of Washington, 152 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham who deposited it in the State Department. It was printed by direction of Congress in 1818. Eobert Yates, one of the members from New York, made short notes of the debates in the earlier sessions, which were printed in 1821 ; and Madison took short-hand notes of each day's doings, which he wrote out daily. They were printed in 1840. Luther Martin, in a remarkable letter addressed to the legislature of Maryland, gave important information con- cerning the Convention. These and other authentic ma- terials furnish nearly a complete view of the process by which the Constitution of the United States was matured. The Virginia delegation, through Edmund Eandolph, then the governor, submitted fifteen resolutions concern- ing the establishment of a national government, to con- sist of a legislature of two branches, an executive, and a judiciary. Charles Pinckney also presented a draft of a Federal government. These propositions were referred to the committee of the whole. They were debated from day to day until the 13th of June, when nineteen resolu- tions were reported to the House. Before they were acted on, Mr. Patterson, of New Jersey (June 15), submitted eleven resolutions, proposing to revise the Articles of Con- federation, " so as to render the Federal Constitution ade- quate to the exigencies of government and the preserva- tion of the Union." These resolutions, together with the nineteen resolutions previously reported, were referred to the committee of the whole. In the discussion, after John Dickinson had spoken on the Articles of Confederation, Hamilton, in the course of a speech, read a paper contain- ing his ideas of a Plan of Government, with a legislature of two bi-anches, — the assembly to consist of persons wh" should serve for three years, and the senate, as well as the governor, the executive head, to serve during good behavior. He proposed that the general government J^'rothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 153 should appoint the governor of each State, who should have a negative on the laws to be passed by the leo-is- lature. This plan was not acted on. On the 19th of June the committee of the whole reported to the House that they did not assent to the resolutions offered by the Hon. Mr. Patterson, but submitted again the nineteen reso- lutions before reported. The first was, " That it is the opinion of this committee that a National Government ought to be established, consisting of a supreme legisla- ture, judiciary, and executive." This determination to frame a new government brought face to face in the Convention the antagonisms of Ameri- can society : the errors of opinion and rooted prejudices ; the local interests, jealousies, and ambitions of the people of the several States. The slavery question rose to fearful eminence. It was connected with the question of represen- tation, or the mode in which the political power should be distributed. Madison, on the 30th of June, in an elaborate speech, delineated the great division of interests in the United States as not being between the large and the small States, but as arising from their having or not having slaves. "It lay," he said, "between the ISTorthern and Southern ;" and he went on to show how certain ar- rangements " would destroy the equilibrium of interests between the two sections." In this he probed the cause of the passion that mingled in the debates. The storm was fearful. "I believe," Luther Martin said, "near a fortnight, perhaps more, was spent in the discussion of this business, during which we were on the verge of dis- solution, scarce held together by the strength of a hair ;" and this is confirmed by a letter from Washington, who said that he almost despau-ed of seeing a favorable issue to the proceedings, and therefore repented of having had any agency in the business. 154 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham During this period Franklin made his well-known im- pressive speech on introducing a motion that prayers be said in the Convention. In another characteristic speech, on the wide diversity of opinion, he said that when a broad table is to be made, and the edges of planks do not fit, the ai'tist takes a little from both and makes a good joint. In like manner, here, both sides must part with some of their demands, in order that they may join in some accommodating proposition. The work of healing commenced when the compromise was agreed to, fixing the basis of representation by adding to the whole number of free persons, including those bound to serve for a term of 3^ears, and excluding Indians not taxed, three-fifths of all other persons, and giving to each State one represent- ative for every forty thousand inhabitants, and to each State an equal vote in the Senate. After the adjustment of representation, there remained the difficulty of discriminating between the two spheres of power, local and general. The proposal of Hamilton to endow a central government with power to appoint the local governors met with little, if any, favor. The advo- cates of the old Articles made it their chief point to pre- serve to the States their importance ; and Madison, the foremost advocate of the Virginia plan, said that "he would preserve the State rights as carefully as the trial by jury." The clear and jDrofound George Mason said that, " notwithstanding his solicitude to establish a national government, he never would agree to abolish the State governments, or render them absolutely insignificant. They were as necessary as the general government, and he would be equally careful to preserve them. He was aware of the difficulty of drawing the line between them, but hoped it was not insurmountable." He also said he was sure " that, though the mind of the jieople might be FROTHI^-GHAM] MAKING OF THE CONSTITUTION. 155 unsettled on some points, yet it was settled in attachment to republican government." Local self-government, union, and rej)ublicanism were as laws inscribed on the tablets of the American heart ; and it was the office of the able men of the Convention to devise for their wants the letter of a written constitution. In these discussions the Convention had passed on the nineteen resolutions. On the 23d of July it was deter- mined that its proceedings "for the establishment of a national government," excepting the executive, should be referred to a committee, for the purpose of reporting the draft of a constitution conformably to them ; and the next day, when five members were reported as this committee, the propositions submitted by Pinckney and Patterson were also referred to it. On the 6th of August the com- mittee reported; when another month of debate followed, during which the clauses relative to the slave-trade and the rendition of slaves were agreed to, — on which hung mighty issues. They are of the past now. They were the price that was paid for republican government, an instrument of vast good in the present and for the future. On the 8th of September a committee of five was appointed " to revise the style of and arrange the articles agreed to by the House." This work was intrusted to Gouverneur Morris, and to him belongs the ci'edit of the simple style and clear arrangement of the Constitution. The committee reported on the twelfth, when the printing of the Constitution was ordered. Three days were occu- pied in revising it, when it was ordered to be engrossed. It was then read, when Franklin rose with a speech in his hand, which was read by James Wilson. " I confess," it begins, " that there are several pai'ts of this Constitution which I do not at present approve ; but I am not sure I shall never approve them. For, having 156 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham lived long, I have experienced many instances of being obliged, by better information or fuller consideration, to change opinions, even on important subjects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore that, the older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my own judgment and to pay more respect to the judgment of others. ... " In these sentiments, sir, I agree to that Constitution, with all its faults, if they are such, because I think a gen- eral government necessary for us, and there is no form of government but what may be a blessing to the people if well administered ; and believe, further, that this is likely to be well administered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, as other forms have done before it, when the people shall be so corrupted as to need despotic government, being incapable of any other." Franklin concluded by moving a form in which the Con- stitution should be signed by the members. [At this point Mr. Gorham, of Massachusetts, proposed to reduce the basis of representation from forty thousand to thirty thousand per- sons. This was sustained by Washington, in the only speech made by him during the Convention.] When he rose to put the question on the motion of Mr. Gorham, he said, — " That although his situation had hitherto restrained him from offering his sentiments on questions depending in the House, and, it might be thought, ought now to impose silence upon him, yet he could not forbear ex- pressing his wish that the alteration proposed might take place. It was much to be desired that the objections to the i^lan recommended might be made as few as possible. The smallness of the proportion of representatives had been considered, by many members of the Convention, an Frothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 157 insufficient security for the rights and interests of the people. He acknowledged that it had always appeared to himself among the exceptionable parts of the plan ; and, late as the present moment was for admitting amendments, he thought this of so much consequence that it would give him much satisfaction to see it adopted." This impressive ajjpeal was followed by a unanimous vote in favor of the motion. There was then a vote on the question whether the Constitution should be agreed to as engrossed in order to be signed, and all the States answered ay. There was then a debate on signing. Ham- ilton now entered upon the course that reflects high honor on him as a patriot. He was anxious that every member should sign, saying, "No man's ideas were more remote from the plan than his own were known to be ; but is it possible to deliberate between anarchy and convulsion on one side, and the chance of good to be expected from the plan on the other ?" All the members signed the Constitution, excepting Edmund Eandolph and G-eorge Mason, of Virginia, and Elbridge Gerry, of Massachusetts. While the last mem- bers were signing, Franklin, the Nestor of the assembly, looking towards the President's chair, at the back of which a rising sun happened to be painted, observed to a few members near him that painters had found it difficult to distinguish in their art a rising from a setting sun. " I have," said he, " often and often, in the course of the ses- sion, and the vicissitudes of mj- hojDCs and fears as to its issue, looked at that behind the President, without being able to tell whether it was rising or setting ; but now, at length, I have the happiness to know that it is a rising and not a setting sun." The instrument was attested in the form submitted by him : " Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent of the States present, the 17th day of II. 14 158 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothijtgham September, in the year of our Lord 1787, and of the Inde- pendence of the United States of America the twelfth." [It was agreed that the Constitution should be transmitted to the governing body of each State, and when ratified by nine States, Con- gress should prepare for commencing proceedings under it. It was immediately circulated, and received with favor, and even enthusiasm. The secrecy of the Convention had given rise to unpleasant rumors, which the publication of the instrument set at rest.] The Constitution was instinctively and joyfully wel- comed by farmers, mechanics, and merchants. Soon, how- ever, the newspapers teemed with the views of men eminent for ability, honesty, and patriotism, against its adoption ; and they won adherents. Hence the country became divided into two great parties: one, called the Federalists, composed of those who were in favor of the ratification of the Constitution ; the other, termed anti- Federalists, or those opposed to the ratification, who could boast among their leaders the great names of George Clin- ton and Patrick Henry. The conflict of opinion was carried on in public meet- ings, through the press, and in the representative assem- blies, and all these in thought and action were unfettered. This constituted another great period in American history. It has been thoroughly explored and ably narrated. In advocating the adoption of the Constitution, James Wil- son madf a noble record in the Pennsylvania Convention and the popular forum, Hamilton and Madison shone in the State conventions and in the press. Their greatest legacy was their share in the "Eighty-five Essays," which appeared in a New York newspaper, under the signature of "Publius." In this they were associated with Jay, who, however, on account of illness, contributed only six of the number. These " Essays" were collected in the Trothingham] making OF THE CONSTITUTION. 159 well-known volume entitled " The Federalist," which is a classic in American political literature. [The Constitution was ratified by conventions in the several States. Its character may be briefly outlined.] Union was acknowledged as an already existing fact ; and the object of the Constitution was declared to be to make a more perfect Union. Government is provided for in a legislature consisting of two branches to make laws, a judiciary to interpret the law, and an executive power in a President, "to take care that the laws be faithfully executed." The Senate is based on State equality, the House* on numbers. The powers enumerated which a government, under this Constitution, might exercise, were, in general, those which throughout the colonial age were proposed to be vested in a Union,— even the important power of levying taxes and collecting them, while leaving the local governments to levy and collect taxes for local purposes, being in Franklin's Albany plan. They provided for a government to act directly on individuals, instead of a league acting on States, as in the Articles of Confedera- tion ; for influence thus substituting public authority. The Union was endowed with political power supreme in its sphere; and though it had no power to make or to abolish the State governments, "yet," is the great com- ment of Madison, "if they were abolished, the General Government would be compelled, by the principle of self- preservation, to reinstate them in their proper jurisdic- tion." The spheres of the two governments, State and National, were defined with much exactness ; but, to determine con- troversies that might arise between the boundaries of their powers, it was provided that the judicial authority should extend to all cases under the Constitution, the laws, and 160 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Frothingham treaties, naming in the list controversies between two or more States, and that this power should be vested in a Supreme Court, to be established by Congress. The laws made in pui'suance of these powers, and all the treaties, were " to be the supreme law of the land," and the judges in every State were "to be bound thereby, anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrar}^ notwithstanding ;" all officers, " both of the States and of the United States," were to bind themselves, " by oath or affirmation," to support this Constitution ; and it was to stand until amended in the form prescribed ; the final stage being that new articles should be ratified hj three-fourths of the several States, or by conventions of three-fourths of the States, as might be proposed by the Congress; with the proviso that no State, without its consent, should be deprived of its equal suffrage in the Senate. It was provided that the citizens of each State should be entitled to all the rights of citizens in the several States. The word "slave" is not in the Constitution; and so pe- cuhar and wise were the provisions, that, when State after State abolished slavery, no alteration was required to meet the great social change. Nor would any change have been required bad all the States abolished slavery. Recent amendments prohibit its establishment, as the original instrument prohibited the States from granting an order of nobility. Article seventh and last is, " The ratification of the conventions of nine States shall be sufficient for the estab- lishment of this Constitution between the States so rati- fying the same," On the 2d of July, 1788, the President of Congress in- formed that body that he had laid before them the rati- fication of the Constitution by the conventions of nine Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 161 States. On that day a committee was appointed to re- port an act " for putting the said Constitution into opera- tion." It was not, however, until the 13th of September that Congress agreed upon a plan. . . . The first Wednes- day in March [1789] was fixed on as the time, and New York as the place, for commencing proceedings under the Constitution. THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION IN PENNSYLVANIA. JOHN C. HAMILTON. [The first test of the strength of the government founded on the new Constitution was made in Pennsylvania, in 1794, by a rebellion against the payment of the excise tax. But for the energy of the central authorities, this revolt might have risen to dangerous propor- tions. Seven years before, a revolt in Massachusetts against the pay- ment of State taxes had been suppressed by the local militia. Now the strength of the government of the Union was put to a similar test. The first attempt to collect internal taxes by act of Congress was through a law, passed in 1791, which imposed a tax on distilled spirits. This law at once became unpopular, especially with the Democratic party. The collection of the tax was evaded, and the law was finally openly defied, in western Pennsylvania. A rebellion was inaugurated, which called for the first exercise of Federal au- thority. A large military force from the neighboring States was called out by the President for its suppression. The story of this earliest rebellion against the authority of the United States is well told in Hamilton's " History of the Eepublic of the United States of America, as traced in the writings of Alexander Hamilton," from which valua- ble work we extract a brief account of the event. Efi"orts had been made to enforce the law by peaceful means, but these were violently resisted. The houses of collectors of the revenue were broken open by disguised men, and the collectors forced to resign their office. Later the insurgents grew more violent, tarring II.— ^ 14* 162 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton and feathering an inspector of the revenue, and finally organized a military association, declaring that they were amenable to State laws only, not to acts of the United States.] New efforts being made to enforce the laws, the mar- shal of the district was fired upon by a body of armed men. On the following day, the sixteenth of July, an attack by a larger body was made on the house of the inspector-general, Neville, in the vicinity of Pittsburg, who, after having gallantly defended himself, was obliged to retreat. On applying to the magistrates and comman- dants of the militia, he was informed that, owing to the general combination of the people, the laws could not be executed. The next day the insurgents reassembled in increased numbers, and renewed their attack upon the house of the inspector, who had called in a detachment from the gar- rison of Fort Pitt. It consisted of an officer and eleven soldiers. An effectual defence being rendered improbable from the inequality of numbers, the inspector retired, A parley took place under cover of a flag. The insurgents then required the troops to march out and ground their arms, — which being refused, a brisk firing ensued, and was continued until, the building being in flames, the few troops were compelled to surrender. One of the insur- gents, formerly an officer of the Pennsylvania line, was killed ; several of each party were wounded. The whole property of the inspector was consumed to the ground. The marshal was seized while coming to his aid. They were both ultimately compelled, in order to avoid personal injury, to descend the Ohio and by a circuitous route to jDrocecd to the seat of government. After these excesses a convention of delegates from the insurgents of the four western counties of Pennsylvania and the neighboring counties of Vir«:inia was called for the fourteenth of Au- Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 163 gust at Parkinson's Ferry, to concert measures suited to the occasion. The period had at last certainly ai-rived when, in the language of the President, " the government could no longer remain a passive spectator of the contempt with which the laws were treated." [A proclamation was issued by the President, commanding the insurgents to disperse, while quotas of militia were called for from Pennsylvania, Virginia, Maryland, and New Jersey. These Governor MifSin, of Pennsylvania, who seemed to be in sympathy with the insurgents, hesitated to call out. He was, however, forced either to do so, or to break with the central government, and the militia volun- teered in greater numbers than were wanted, even members of the "Society of Friends" joining the force. Persons of wealth, and officers high in the old army, were found mustering with the common soldiers in the ranks. General Lee, then Governor of Virginia, was appointed to the chief command. Meanwhile, the insurgents had robbed the mails, and issued circulars citing passages from letters of the inspectors, and declaring that their interests were threatened, and that every citizen must prepare to defend himself.] They were invoked as "citizens" of the " Western Coun- try to render their personal services with as many volun- teei's as they could raise, to rendezvous at Braddock's Pield on the Monongahela, with arms and accoutrements in good order." An expedition was proposed, " in which you -will have an opportunity of displaying your military talents, and of rendering service to your country." The immediate object of this expedition was an attack on the garrison at Pittsburg and the seizure of its arms ; the u^ltimate design, the establishment of a tramontane State, separate from and independent of the Union. . . . In order to reach Braddock's Field, the militia of Wash- ington County, warm in the party of the insurgents, were obliged to cross to the east side of the Monongahela. They advanced, clad in their yellow hunting-shirts, their heads 164 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton bound with kerchiefs, the dress they wore in their conflicts with the Indians, which kept up, in this hardy frontier pojiulation, a temper Httle less than savage. Bradford stood on the bank, reviewing these battalions as they crossed. In one cii'cle the party who had burned the inspector's house were seen, each with his rifle, vent- ing their rage against its defenders, dej)]oring the death of their leader, threatening the commandant of Fort Fay- ette for the aid he had granted. Loud cries were heard of " Tom the Tinker with his bearskin budget." — His " iron was hot, his hammer was up ; he would not travel the country for nothing." Seven thousand men assembled in the course of the day, and encamped for the night. Here there was little sleep, for, though the firing of musketry had ceased, the night was spent by groups, gathered near the range of fires, in earnest discussion and mingled menaces. In the morning, deputies from each regiment were convened in a lone wood. Bradford read the intercepted letters, directing their fury against the authors. The question was put as to their treatment. Some denounced them with death. Others sought to soothe the irritation. OflScers were now ap- pointed, — Bradford and Cook, generals. The drums beat, and the line of march to the fort was taken. This small work was a quadrangle with bastions stockaded, and a block-house on two of the angles, each armed with a small piece of artillery. Weak as it was, the commander was Colonel Butler, a resolute soldier. To a demand for its surrender he replied with a determination to hold it at every peril. Meanwhile, to alarm the inhabitants of Pitts- burg, a noisy follower rode through the town, with upraised tomahawk, threatening the friends of order. The insur- gents paused at the moment of danger ; and, after a short parley, the larger number, dissuaded from their purpose, Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 165 recrossed the river, leaving a few of the more determined, who, in detached parties, fired, during the night, the habi- tations of those who had supported the laws. The flight of the authors of the obnoxious letters and the pretended concurrence of the townsfolk in the objects of the insurgents saved Pittsburg from destruction. [The excitement increased, and another meeting took place on August 14. A liberty-pole was erected, bearing a red flag, with six stripes, one for each insurgent county, and the inscription, " Liberty and no Excise! No Asylum for Traitors and Cowards." Albert Gallatin (the afterwards prominent statesman) was secretary of this convention. Violent discussions ensued, with a strong sentiment in favor of war. Word now came that the commissioners of the gov- ernment were at hand. This produced an instant change in the cour- age of the assembly. More moderate resolutions were moved, and there were evidences of a disposition to accept the proffered terms,— a submission to the laws, with the promise that measures would be taken to ascertain the sense of the people.] Bradford would have rejected instantly the proifered terms. The angered, earnest, misled population, still be- lieving, as they had been taught by their leaders, that the excise laws were unconstitutional and oppressive, were read}' to sustain him. The only resource was to postpone the question for the night, and to induce the armed party to withdraw. The next day, relieved from the immediate presence of his followers, and trembhng before the insulted majesty of the government, Gallatin urged submission. Bradford, of too proud and firm a temper to truckle at the first alarm of danger, opposed conciliation. He declared the people only wanted fire-arms. With these they could obtain a victory over the militia army. Then they could establish an independent State. The Committee of Sixty were divided in opinion. Shrinking from the responsibility of 166 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton an open vote, it was proposed by Gallatin, and sustained by those in favor of submission, that it should be by secret ballot. The ballot was taken, and, as was after ascertained, thirty-four were in favor of terms, twenty-three against them. [The sentiment shown by this vote was not generally shared by the people. In various sections violent measures were proposed, and the insurgent spirit seemed so strong as to render it evident that no alter- native remained but the advance of the armed force. This Washing- ton had decided to accompany.] The adjacent States now presented an animating scene. On every side volunteers were offering, and, led by officers of the army of the Revolution, pressed to the sexwice. The militia of Maryland and Virginia, in which States attemjits %vere made to prevent the drafts, repaired to Cumberland. . . . Those of New Jersey under Governor Howel, and of Pennsylvania under Mifflin, were to be concentrated at Carlisle. [Gallatin and others of the moderate leaders of the populace now de- clared their submission to the authorities, and passed pacific i-esolutions.] Washington, meanwhile, had reached Carlisle. Here a large encampment had been formed. Tents were pitched at the base of the hills ; and from the centre of a vast amphitheatre the President addressed the gathered multi- tude. Loud greetings followed, and at night an illumina- tion blazed through the town. At this place, so changed in the direction of its feelings, Findley and Eeddick [two of the submissive insurgent leaders] now arrived. Fear- ing for their personal safety from the resentment of the troops, they spent the night three miles beyond the town, "passing for travellers going to Philadelphia." At sunrise the}^ waited on the President. Overawed by his cold, calm, majestic bearing, they presented the submissive resolutions, Hamilton] THE WHISKEY INSURRECTION. 167 and withdrew. A hearing was given to them. Earnestly they sought to convince him of the restored quiet of the scene of disaffection, and to dissuade the onward movement of the troops. [In this object they failed. The army was ordered to continue its advance. " Leaders taken in arms were to be delivered up to the civil magistrates, the rest disarmed, admonished, and sent home." Washington now returned to Philadelphia, leaving the control of the expedition in the hands of Hamilton and the immediate command to Governor Lee.] The Alleghanies were now to be ascended. On the twenty-first of October the two light corps marched in advance. The body of the army moved the next day, the right wing under Mifflin, the left under Lee, the artil- lery, as a park, in the centre, where the cavahy, " who, though dangerous in the light, ai"e impotent in darkness," were stationed at night. On the march, chosen parties of horse were ordered to follow in the rear of each wing, to arrest stragglers and to protect the property of individuals. The orders for each day's march were prepared by Hamil- ton. Owing to recent heavy rains, the progress of the ami}' had become " extremel}^ arduous and distressing." Mountain after mountain of stupendous size rose before their anxious view, as beyond and all around them they beheld giddy precipices, overhanging cliffs, deep glades, far-extending valleys, and headlong torrents contending for an outlet among the craggy, age-mossed rocks, — the whole exhibiting the appearance of a vast magnificent ruin of years long gone by. For many a mile not a dwelling was to be seen, nor a sound to be heard, save the echo of the felling axe, or the cry of the startled wood-birds before the tramp of the ad- vancing troops, awed into silence by the drearj^ solitudes, — a silence only broken by the sudden cries of returning 168 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Hamilton scouts from amid the rude sequestered wilds, through whose forest depths the autumn sun scarce pierced its rare and broken rays. To guard against surprise among these passes, and to protect the country beyond them from devastation by these undisciplined levies, was a service of no less difficulty than to restrain mutiny prompted by unexpected hard- ships. Hamilton was ever on the alert. While the bright gleams of early soldiership lightened his countenance, nothing escaped the vigilance of his eye. Holding no militar}^ rank, he was seen day after day mingling with the men, studj'ing their tempers, rallying their spirits, relating stirring incidents of the Revolutionary War, while in the heavy hours of the night he traversed the camp, unattended, watching the sentries on their tedious rounds. On one occasion he found a wealthy youth of Philadelphia sitting on his outer post, his musket by his side. Ap- proaching, he reproved him. The youth complained of hardship. Hamilton shouldered the musket, and, pacing to and fro, remained on guard until relieved. The incident was rumored throughout the camp, nor did the lesson require repetition. The assemblage of any combined force of the insur- gents was deterred by various detachments, who seized the leaders and brought in numerous prisoners. [These decided measures put a stop to the insurrection. The insur- gents, left without leaders, and deterred by the presence of an army of fifteen thousand men, feared to gather in force; though there were sufficient evidences of a spirit of resistance to the laws to require the presence of a military force till the district should become pacified.] Hamilton arrived at Pittsburg with the judiciary corps on the seventeenth of November, having left the army the preceding day. Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 169 During the latter part of the march ho had heen cod- stantly engaged, obtaining intehigence of the insurgents, receiving the submissions of those who had not fled, re- straining the resentments of the militia which these treasons had excited, and establishing the laws in a region which now first practically acknowledged the supremacy of the general government. . . . Nothing could have been more gratifying than the re- sult of this expedition, — a great body of misguided rebels restored without bloodshed to the dominion of the laws, a contemplated severance of the Union defeated, and a strong impression made, that in the affections of the people the government possessed a safe reliance adequate to its sup- port. [Thus ended, without bloodshed, an insurrection which at one time threatened to disrupt the new-formed Union, or to require severe measures for its suppression. Brackenridge remarks, "It has been said that because there was no horrid battle there was no necessity for so strong an army. But it was the display of so strong an army that rendered unnecessary anything but the display of it." The event has an importance as the first organized resistance to the authority of the United States government, and the first occasion in which an American President exerted his authority by directly calling out the militia of the States to the support of the laws of the general government.] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. JOHN S. C. ABBOTT. [While the events of the Kevolutionary "War and of the succeeding period were taking place on the seaboard of America, the interior was the seat of interesting incidents of which some description is de- sirable. The colonists of America had dispossessed the original tenants of the soil from the Atlantic region, or reduced them to a state of hope- II.— H 15 170 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Abbott less submission, with the exception of the Iroquois tribes of New York, who were too warlike and well organized to be easily overcome. But in the interior, beyond the mountain-barrier of the Alleghanies, the savages were yet numerous and their spirit unbroken. The Cherokees had become peaceful, but the Northern tribes were vigorous and war- like, and viewed with jealous hostility the spread of pioneer invasion into their territory. This feeling was encouraged by the art of British emissaries, who, during the war, roused the savages to acts of horrible cruelty and devastation. The first movements of the whites westward had been made by way of the great lakes and the Mississippi, along which the French had early established trading-stations. The next movement of the French was southward from the lakes to the Ohio, while at the same time the English were pushing westward through Pennsj'lvania to the same region. The conflicts arising from this, with the final triumph of the English, we have considered. But the victors had another foe to deal with, in the savages of the Ohio teri'itory, and not till they had de- feated Pontiac and his warriors, and broken the spirit of the hostile tribes, were they secure in their possession of the vast and fertile region which they had thus appropriated. There is another movement of emigration now to consider, which opened a new and extensive territory to European settlei-s, and gave rise to historical events of interest and importance. In a preceding article it was remarked that the news of the battle of Lexington reached the ears of a party of hunters in the interior of Kentucky, and that they gave the name of Lexington to the locality of their camp. The movement in this direction was instigated and led by the celebrated pioneer and hunter Daniel Boone, whose adventurous life has so long been a source of interest and enjoyment to readers. The story of the discovery, conquest, and settlement of Kentucky belongs to the era of the Revolutionary War, and had reached its most interest- ing phase at the period when the seaboard colonists were first taking arms against British aggression. Its consequences, however, reached for into the succeeding period, and a description of it is properly in place here. Kentucky was first discovered in 1767, by a bold hunter named John Finley, who, with some companions, in that year crossed the Alle- ghanies and entered this unknown land. It was no easy enterprise. There was a mountain-region nearly fifty miles in width to cross, trav- ersed by parallel ridges, all rugged, and some almost impassable. Yet Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 171 the beautiful and fertile expanse which they beheld from the western slope repaid the hardy pioneers for their toil, and for months they wan- dered in this new Eden, which was full of game, and pleasantly salu- brious in its climate, while unclaimed by those savage tenants whose presence filled with peril all other regions of the country. No Indians possessed the country. It was the hunting and battle region of North- ern, "Western, and Southern tribes, who frequently crossed its soil, yet never made it their home. Yet here desperate battles frequently took place, and the name of " the dark and bloody ground," which it subsequently received, was always appropriate. The story told by Finley on his return was eagerly heard by Daniel Boone, a noted hunter of North Carolina, whither his parents had emigrated from Pennsylvania. In 1769 a party under the leadership of Boone crossed the mountains, and entered Kentucky by way of Cumberland Gap. His adventures in this region for several years suc- ceeding were numerous and exciting. He acquired the reputation of a mighty hunter, became dreaded by the Indians, and, though on sev- eral occasions taken prisoner, always managed to escape fi-om their hands. During this interval the Indian war known as Lord Dun- more's War bi'oke out, through the assassination, by white fiends, of the family of the renowned Indian chief Logan. The borders of the Virginia frontier were terribly raided, and it needed an army of three thousand men to subdue the savages. In the final battle, which was desperately contested, two hundred and fifteen Virginians and several hundred Indian warriors were killed and wounded. The repulsed tribes fled in terror, and their whole country was devastated by the victors. In this campaign Boone took part, and its conclusion was followeu by a more rapid inflow of settlers into the region which he had ex- plored, and which had become now more safe for white emigrants. Under his directions a strong fort was built at Boonsborough, on the left bank of the Kentucky River. To this frontier post came a party of adventurous settlers, under his leadership. It was a dangerous loca- tion. Lurking Indians waited to cut ofi" any settler who ventured too far beyond the walls of the fort. At one time a daughter of Boone and two other girls, while canoeing on the river, were captured bj'' savages. Boone rapidly pursued, and succeeded in surprising the cap- tors and rescuing their prisoners. The story of the adventures of these pioneers is full of thrilling incidents, and their life was one of hair- breadth escapes. Finally Boone was taken prisoner, while out with u 172 AMERICAN HISTORY. [Abbott party making salt at the Salt Lick springs. As the Indians were not resisted, the captives were well treated, taken to Detroit, and all ran- somed except Boone, whom they would not surrender. They took him back with them to Chillicothe, the home of the tribe, and adopted him into the family of Blackfish, a distinguished Shawnee chief. The ceremony of adoption was a severe and painful one, as part of it con- sisted in the plucking out of all the hairs of the head, with the excep- tion of the scalp-lock tuft, of three or four inches' diameter. Yet the shrewd and politic captive bore all these inflictions with equanim ity, and managed to appear perfectly content with his lot. The ex- citing events which succeeded we give from Abbott's " Daniel Boone, the Pioneer of Kentucky."] Colonel Boone, having passed through this transforma- tion, with his Indian dress and his painted cheeks, his tufted scalp-lock and his whole person embrowned by- constant exposure to the open air, could scarcely be dis- tinguished from any of his Indian associates. His wary captors, however, . . . habitually, but without a remark suggestive of any suspicions, adopted precautions to pre- vent his escape. So skilful a hunter as Boone could, with his rifle and a supply of ammunition, ti-averse the solitary expanse around for almost any length of time, living in abundance. But deprived of his rifle or of ammunition he would soon almost inevitably perish of starvation. The Indians were therefore very careful not to allow him to accumulate any ammunition, which was so essential to sustain him in a journey through the wilderness. Though Boone was often allowed to go out alone to hunt, they always counted his balls and the charges of powder. Thus they could judge whether he had concealed any ammunition to aid him, should he attempt to escape. He, however, with equal sagacity, cut the balls in halves, and used very small charges of powder. Thus he secretly laid aside quite a little store of ammunition. [During this period the Indians took Boone with them to some salt Abbott] THE PIONEER OF KENTUCKY. 173 springs to aid them in malcing salt. Here they kept him too busy at the kettles to give him an opportunity to escape.] After an absence of about a fortnight, they returned with a good suj^ply of salt to the Little Miami. Hei-e Boone was quite alarmed to find that during his absence the chiefs had been marshalling a band of four hundred and fifty of their bravest warriors to attack Boonsbor- ough. In that fort were his wife and children. Its cap- ture would probably insure their slaughter. He was aware that the fort M-as not sufficiently guarded by its present inmates, and that, unapprehensive of impending danger, they Avere liable to be taken entirely by surprise. Boone was sufficiently acquainted with the Shawanese dialect to understand every word they said, while he very sagaciously had assumed, from the moment of his captivity, that he was entirely ignorant of their language. Boone's anxiety was very great. He was compelled to assume a smiling face as he attended their war-dances. Apparently unmoved, he listened to the details of their plans for the surj^rise of the fort. Indeed, to disarm sus- picion and to convince them that he had truly become one of their number, he co-operated in giving efficiency to their hostile designs against all he held most dear in the world. It had now become a matter of infinite moment that he should immediately escape and carry to his friends in the fort the tidings of their peril. But the slightest unwary movement would have led the suspicious Indians so to re- double their vigilance as to render escape uttei'ly impossible. So skilfully did he conceal the emotions which agitated him, and so successfully did he feign entire contentment with his lot, that his captors, all absorbed in the enter- prise in which they were engaged, remitted their ordinary vigilance. II. 15* 174 AMERICAN HISTORV. [Abbott On the morning of the sixteenth of June [1777] Boone rose very early to take his usual hunt. With his secreted ammunition, and the amount allowed him by the Indians for the day, he hoped to be able to save himself from star- vation during his flight of five days through the pathless wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and sixty miles between Old Chillicothe and Boonshorough. The moment his flight should be suspected, four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance, and in per- fect preparation for the pursuit, would be on his track. His capture would almost certainly result in his death by the most cruel tortures ; for the infuriated Indians would wreak upon him all their vengeance. It is, however, not probable that this silent, pensive man allowed these thoughts seriously to disturb his equanimity. An instinctive trust in Grod seemed to inspire him. He