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BENJAMIN TRUMBULL.
[The long chapter requisite to deal adequately with our Indian wars must, when finally written, deal candidly with the treacheries which, unhappilly, were not confined to the aboriginal race. Tribe after tribe would combine open hostility with secret negotiations, eager to strengthen their position by patched -up peace agreements in case the fighting went against them. French and English in turn availed themselves of Indian allies. In turn the civilized soldiery used and then scorned the always problematical friendship of the redskins. The story of these alliances is a sad one, and the failures were recorded in blood. The Indian, rightly or wrongly, conceived he was being ground between the upper and the nether millstones. He was a difficulty in the early days, and, despite recent admirable and generally disinterested efforts to allure him within the pale of civilization, he continues to be a national thorn in the flesh. The several narratives of early wars with the red man here presented throw a distressing light on the hard conditions in which the early settlers had to live. Security for person or home ever in doubt, how bravely our fathers endured their lot, an order of heroism hard to be realized by us of to-day.
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 described, but of no less fury and determination in the combatants. This 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 kindled the flames of war along the whole southern boundary of the colonies. 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 numerous and powerful nation [the Cherokee] had appeared cordially 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 assisted in the late expedition against Fort Duquesne. But it seems that while they were on that enterprise they were treated with such general coolness and neglect, and received 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 received from some of the Virginians on their return from that expedition. 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 belonged to any individual in the province. The Virginians, instead of legally asserting their rights, fell on the unsuspicious warriors, killed twelve or fourteen of them, and took several prisoners. The Cherokees were highly exasperated at such ungrateful treatment from allies whose frontiers, by their assistance, had so lately been turned from a field of blood into peaceful habitations. No sooner had they returned, than they reported to the nation the bloody treatment which they had received. The flame spread instantly through their towns. The relatives of the slain were implacable, and breathed nothing but vengeance against such ungrateful and perfidious allies. 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 perpetrated 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 governor determined, with such independent companies and militia as could be raised, immediately to march into the enemy's country, 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 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 indignity 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 discontented and mutinous, that he judged it unsafe to proceed farther against the enemy. Here, therefore, he opened a congress with the Indians. For this purpose he had previously 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 brining 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 they delivered up two Indians. 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 concluded a treaty with him, holding twenty-two of the chieftains as hostages 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 suffered exceedingly with hunger and fatigue. The governor soon followed 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 entertained 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 follow the example of the governor, and to repay meanness 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 garrison 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 covered with woods and dark thickets, it was favorable to his purposes. Having concerted his measures, two Indian women, who were known to be always 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, Ouconnostota joined them, and desired Dogharty to call the commanding officer, saying that he had matters of importance to communicate to him. Accordingly, Captain Cotymore, 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 different ambuscades. The captain was killed, and Bell and Foster were wounded. In consequence 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 circumstances so exasperated the garrison that, without hesitation, they fell on the unfortunate hostages, and butchered them in a manner too shocking to relate.
In the evening the Indians approached the fort, and, 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 received 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 vengeance 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 down 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 River, 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 satisfied 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 prisoners were carried into the wilderness, where they suffered 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 murders 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 province 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 destroyed, and a considerable number of the savages killed and captured. The others 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 Royal Scots upon their right, the enemy gave way and fled. The captain of the rangers, and about twenty 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 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. Here they attacked his picketguard 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 from 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 but 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 May, the army, consisting of two thousand and six hundred men, advanced to Fort Prince George. Here Attakullakulla, having got intelligence of the force advancing against his nation, met Colonel Grant, and repeatedly entreated him, by his friendship and many good services to the English, to proceed no farther till he had once more used his influence with his nation to bring them to an accommodation. 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 annoyance 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 possession 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 advance slowly, doubling their circumspection. 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. Rushing down from the high grounds, they furiously attacked the advanced guard. These were supported, and the action became 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 been greatly fatigued by forced marched in 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 resolution 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 furious 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 that 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 destroyed. The miserable inhabitants stood the silent spectators of the general destruction, and were obliged to retire, to starve in the thickets and mountains. Nearly the same barbarities were practised towards them, by a civilized and Christian people, of which we so loudly complain when, in their manner of warfare, they are practised against us. .
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 establishea, 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 continent 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.]
POLITICAL DEVELOPMENT IN AMERICA.
CHARLES MORRIS.
[The French 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 educated 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 Revolutionary 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 Revolution, 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 leading to the war of independence, therefore, properly requires a preceding review of the political history of the colonies from their first 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 preliminary 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 Virginia was the work of a company of London merchants, 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 appropriated 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 somewhat 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 Virginia. 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 prepared by their previous history for the duties of self-government. The Massachusetts colony was a chartered one, but from the first it took its government into its own hands, and began to exist under that same simple form of democracy which had been established by its Plymouth predecessor. In fact, a colony composed of equals, unprovided with a royal governor, 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 incapable of exercising full rights of citizenship, but they were soon driven from the community, as an element of discordance hostile to the well-being of this bigoted body politic. 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 elsewhere 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 consideration 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 prerogatives of government, even the power of capital punishment. 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 management 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 circumference of Massachusetts Bay, and it had become inconvenient for the citizens to exercise the duties of freemen in person. They therefore 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 constitution of the Connecticut settlements, formed in 1639, paid no heed to the existence of a mother-country. The governor and legislature were to be chosen annually by the freemen, whose oath of allegiance was to the common-wealth, not to the English monarch, and the "general court" 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 made for themselves. Rhode Island was chartered by the English Parliament in 1644, and formally 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 name of his God." The colonies of Maine and New Hampshire became proprietary governments, under royal grants to Sir Ferdinando 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 proprietors. Its adopted form of government differed from that of Massachusetts only in the fact that neither the freemen nor the deputies of the colony were required to be church members.
In 1643 a further step of progress in the evolution of a representative republic was made. As a measure of protection against the Indians and the other dangers which threatened them, the colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New Haven, and Plymouth united themselves into a confederacy, under the title of The United Colonies of New England. Rhode Island was not admitted into this confederacy, 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 governing body of the confederacy consisted of an annual Assembly, 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 that now existing in the United States of America, and constituting a noble school for the teaching of those principles of self-government which have become so deeply instilled 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 England 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 royalists became engaged in a death-struggle with democracy 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 democracy 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 New England system of government. The doctrine of rotation in office was early established, "lest there should be a governor 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 persons for election, the people took good care to elect none of the persons so proposed. Another important democratic principle was early adopted, that of making provision for the pay of public officers annually, and avoiding the fixation of salaries. This system proved very useful subsequently, in the conflict with the representatives of royalty. Originally 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 constituted the American legislature of two houses, the councillors being annually chosen by the whole body of freemen, the representatives by the separate settlements. The local government of each township remained in its own hands, and the whole organization was a miniature predecessor 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 was aimed at, and even such titles as those of Esquire and Mr. were applied to but few persons, Goodman and Goodwife being the ordinary appellations. Aristocratic 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 colonies were of a commercial character. These had been removed during the era of the Commonwealth, but were renewed after the Restoration. Only English vessels were permitted to trade with the colonies. All articles of American 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 would compete with English manufactures. These restrictions 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 naturally alarmed at a measure which might result in a restriction of their liberties, and were disposed to oppose the king's agents at every step. The commissioners were resisted, secretly or openly, in all the colonies except Rhode Island, which alone received them with deference. Massachusetts boldly 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, the 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 Massachusetts, 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 Massachusetts 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.
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 disobedience 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 Dudley, 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 deeming 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 liberty, but the representatives of the people for many 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 vary the salary each year at their pleasure, and so manipulating this right that the amount of the governor'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 utility. 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 as the birthplace of American democracy. The other colonies, though founded on more aristocratic principles, were strongly affected by its example, and strove vigorously to gain similarly liberal institutions. The earliest of these, that of Virginia, was, by its first charter, under the supreme government of a council residing in England and appointed by the king, who likewise appointed a council of members of the colony, for its local administration. Thus all executive 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 privilege of filling vacancies by their own votes, and were empowered to appoint a governor for Virginia, whose powers were very despotic. The lives, liberty, and property of the colonists were placed almost at his sole disposal. 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 governor in 1619, the first step towards popular rights was taken. Martial law, which had before prevailed, was abolished, and a colonial Assembly was convened, consisting 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 1621 a written constitution was granted to the colony by the company, which ratified the arrangement made by 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 Assembly. 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 liberalists 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 inefficacious, 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 from 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 that of Virginia, though they could not be expected to concede the full measure of freedom enjoyed in New England. The government was now administered by a governor and ten councillors, acting under the instructions of the king, but the colonial Assembly continued its annual sessions. 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 Puritanism and republicanism were rapidly gaining the control in England. The intolerance in religious matters which New England displayed in favor of Puritanism was here manifested in favor of the Church of England, and the legislature 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. Remonstrances against these oppressive laws proved of no avail, while discontent was also caused by large grants of Virginia territory to royal favorites. Meanwhile, the aristocratic party in the legislature had seriously abridged the liberties of the people. Religious intolerance increased, 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 abolishing the representative system of government. These were some of the evils which gave rise to the so-called "rebellion" 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 Maryland, 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, while 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 Assembly being held in 1635. But in 1639 a representative government was adopted, the people sending delegates to the Assembly. The governor of the province was appointed 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 Calverts again gained control, and that Maryland continued under their rule until the Revolution.
The Carolinas were granted to a body of eight proprietors in 1653, under a charter which gave the people religious freedom and a voice in legislation, but reserved nearly the whole power to the proprietary corporation. Somewhat later Locke's despotic scheme of government (explained in a preceding article) was adopted. Yet the effort to establish it proved abortive. The people saw the 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 displayed an aptness for and a tendency 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. Complaint was made to the English Parliament, and soon after the disfranchising laws were repealed by the colonial Assembly; but the Church of England remained the established form of religion till the Revolution.
In New York, under the Dutch, the example of self-government displayed in New England caused much dissatisfaction 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 ready, 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 before, and made the same protest that had been heard in the other colonies, that taxation without representation was unjust and oppressive. They 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 of representatives. This Assembly passed an important "charter of liberties," which was approved by the governor. This charter placed the supreme legislative power in the governor, council, and people met in general assembly, gave to every freeman full right to vote for representatives, established trial by jury, required that no tax whatever should be assessed without the consent of the Assembly, and that no professing Christian should be questioned concerning his religion. The privileges here claimed were not fully conceded. Several of the governors proved oppressive 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 previously spoken, in 1732, between the liberal and the aristocratic 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 his 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 government of Pennsylvania was very liberal in its provisions, but not sufficiently so to meet the enlarged views of the proprietor, 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 surrendered by William Penn to the people, and the government consisted of the proprietor and the Assembly, with no intermediate council, as in Maryland and elsewhere. Yet, liberal as this constitution was, the people soon demanded 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 brief review we have here given of the development 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 concerning 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 naturally, 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 afforded them by the dissensions existing in the mother-country. As a consequence of this persistent struggle for the privilege of self-government, New England became almost a full republic, Pennsylvania was little behind it in the legislative freedom 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 freedom were concerned, the colonists had little to complain of, and had there been no deeper cause of discontent the American Revolution would never have taken place. And through this long experience of self-government by the people of the colonies was acquired an extended knowledge of the principles of government, and a vigorous democratic 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 manufacturing regulations, and the claim of the crown to unrestricted powers of taxation, which had for a long period been resisted by the colonies. In their earlier and weaker days 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 whom they pleased and to manufacture what they pleased became 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 Massachusetts 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 implanted in the minds of all Americans by the era immediately preceding the Revolution. That principle which had been long fought for and eventually gained in the home country, that the people, through their representatives, alone had the power to lay taxes, was naturally claimed in America as an essential requisite of a representative government; and it was mainly to the effort of the English authorities to deprive the colonists of this right that the American Revolution was due.
ENGLAND AND HER COLONIES.
MARY HOWITT.
[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 phenomenal 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 conspiracy, 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 Delawares.
At the appointed time the warriors fell furiously upon the frontiers 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 fortsLe Boeuf, Venango, Presque Isle, Michilimackinac, and otherswere taken by the savages, and the garrisons generally massacred. The large and important forts of Detroit, 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 with heavy loss. The remainder 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 was 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 persistent 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 away the troops. Advance and retreat became alike impossible, and complete destruction seemed inevitable. At this crisis Colonel Bouquet essayed a manoeuvre which fortunately proved successful. Part of the troops retired as if in flight, while the others seemed endeavoring to cover the flight. On perceiving this, the savages 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 routed 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 success 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, residing in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, were attacked and indiscriminately butchered by a party of settlers from the neighboring township of Paxton. These "Paxton Boys" even broke open the jail at Lancaster, and murdered the Indians who had been placed there as a measure of safety. The proclamations of the governor against these outrages were disdained, and the sanguinary mob marched upon Philadelphia, 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 Germantown, the governor fled in dismay, and the province 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 Mary 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. Vincent's,every island, in fact, which France possessed among the Caribbees,passed into the hands of the English. Besides which, being at the same time at war with Spain, England took 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 further 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 Mississippi, 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 sovereignty of the whole eastern half of North 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 same 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 Eastern 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 occupy 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 Champlain, a beautiful and fertile country which had first become known to the colonists in the late war. Homes were growing up in Vermont. 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 greatly, 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 possessions. 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 Rouge.
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, Maryland, and South Carolina, which were increasing in population and productions at a rate unknown before or since. In the North, leisure was found for the cultivation of literature, art, and social refinement. The six colonial colleges were crowded with students; a medical college was established in Pennsylvania, the first in the colonies; and West and Copley, both born in the same year,the one in New York, the other in Boston,proved that genius was native to the New World, though the Old afforded richer patronage. Besides all this, the late wars and the growing difficulties 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 war, 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 reimbursed by Parliament. The popular power had, however, grown in various ways; the colonial Assemblies had resisted the claims of the royal 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 military college to her citizens, 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 colonies, 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 themselves of the productions and resources of an affluent land. The true causes which slowly alienated the colonies from the parent state may be traced back to the early encroachments 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 in feeling and principle. "They were men who scoffed at the rights of kings, and looked upon rulers as public servants bound to exercise their authority for the benefit of the government, and ever maintained that it is the inalienable 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 British shipping, no merchandise from the English colonies should be imported into England excepting by English vessels; and, for the benefit of English manufacturers, prohibited 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 hatter 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 pitch and whitepine trees unless in enclosed lands. To some of these laws, though felt to be an encroachment on their rights, 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 measures; 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 destroyed.
In 1764 the sugar-duties were somewhat reduced, as a boon to the colonies, but new duties were imposed on articles 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 king'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 expressing their feelings on the subject. Though deference was thus apparently paid to their wishes, the intention of the British government was no longer concealed. The preamble of the bill openly avowed the intention of raising 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 payment of duties and punishing their evasion.
The colonies received the news of these proposed measures 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 represented in the House of Commons. "If we are not represented," 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 Rights, 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 was Thacher's pamphlet against all Parliamentary taxation. Rhode 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 expressing boldly and decidedly the true nature of her feelings, the same tone being maintained by Rhode 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. Grenville, the minister, according to prearrangement, brought in his bill for collecting a stamp-tax in America, and it passed the House of Commons five to one, and in the House of Lords there was neither division on the subject nor the slightest opposition. This act was to come into operation on the 1st day of November of the same year. It was on the occasion 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 eloquence in reply to one of the ministers who spoke of the colonists as "children planted by our care, nourished by our indulgence, and protected by our arms." "They planted by your care!" retorted Barre. "No; your oppression planted them in 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 you, 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 Philadelphia, 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.
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 to this was in the rates for postage; but in these the pay was voluntary and for services rendered, and it provoked no opposition. The proposition, therefore, to lay a direct tax on the colonies was received 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 uncertain tone. The House of Representatives resolved, "That the imposition of duties and taxes by the Parliament of Great Britain, upon a people not represented in the House of Commons, is absolutely irreconcilable 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 maintained, 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 deputation." 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 Virginia while the Assembly was sitting. The aristocratic leaders in that body hesitated. The 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 Robinson's proposed paper money loan. Finding the older and more weighty members unlikely to move, he assumed the responsibility of introducing a series of resolutions which claimed for the inhabitants of Virginia all the rights of born British subjects; denied any authority anywhere, 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 opposition of all the old leaders, the resolutions passed, the fifth and most emphatic by a majority of only one vote. The next day, in Henry's absence, the resolutions were reconsidered, softened, and the fifth struck out. But a manuscript 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 popular 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 supposed to be intended for a stamp office, and frightened 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 renewed. The mob attacked the house of Story, registrar of the Admiralty, and destroyed not only the public files and records, but his private papers also. Next they entered and plundered the house of the controller of the customs; and, maddened with liquor and excitement, proceeded to the mansion of Hutchinson, in North Square. The lieutenant-governor and his family fled for their lives. The house was completely gutted, and the contents burned in bonfires kindled in the square. Along with Hutchinson's furniture and private papers perished many invaluable manuscripts relating to the history of the province, which Hutchinson had been thirty years in collecting, and which it was impossible 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, from 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, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey, and to have taken up as their special business the intimidation of the stamp officers. In all the colonies these 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 unanimously adopted a series of resolutions denouncing the Stamp Act as "unconstitutional, and subversive of their dearest rights." Public meetings to protest against it were held throughout the colonies. The holding of such meetings 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 New York. Various reasons prevented the others from joining.]
In the course of a three weeks' session, a Declaration of the Rights 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 representation in the British Parliament impossible, these representatives, it was maintained, could be no other than the several colonial Legislatures. Thus was given a flat negative 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 of 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 proceedings 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 paraded that evening the streets of New York, demanding the delivery of the stamps, which Colden, on the resignation of the stamp-distributor and his refusal to receive them, had taken into the fort. Colden was hung in effigy. 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 Royal 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 responsibility, as Sir Henry Moore, the recently-appointed governor, was every day expected, Colden 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 City 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 struggle. 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 American cloths, and the increase of sheep by ceasing to eat lamb or mutton.
Business, suspended for a while, was presently resumed. Stamped papers were required in judicial proceedings, but by continuing the cases before them, or going on without notice of the deficiency, even the judges, after some hesitation, 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. Grenville, the promoter of the Stamp Act, had been succeeded by the Marquis of Rockingham.]
In the address from the throne at the opening of the session, the new ministry brought the state of colonial affairs before Parliament. They produced the correspondence 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 appeared in his place in the House of Commons, and delivered 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 possessed 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 impression on the House. After a long pause, Grenville rose to vindicate the Stamp Act. The tumults in America bordered, he averred, on open rebellion; but if the doctrines now promulgated were upheld, they would soon lose that name, and become a revolution. Taxation was a branch of the sovereign power, constantly exercised by Parliament over the unrepresented. Resorting, 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 unhappy act is imputed to them as a crime. But the imputation shall not discourage me." "We are told America is obstinateAmerica is almost in open rebellion. Sir, I rejoice that America has resisted. Three millions of people so dead to all the feelings of liberty as voluntarily to submit to be slaves, would have been fit instruments to make slaves of all the rest." "The Americans have been wronged! They have been driven to madness by injustice! Will you punish them for the madness you have 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 by Rockingham, to whom he had been 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 Commons 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 vigorous opposition to this bill in the House of Lords. "My position in thisI repeat it; I will maintain it to the last hourtaxation 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 passage and repeal of the Stamp Act, we select from the works of Franklin some of the more striking features of his examination before the House of Commons, referred to in the preceding article. This selection 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 of the condition and sentiments of the Americans, as reflected in the mind of their ablest advocate.]
1. Q. What is your name, and place of abode? A. Franklin, of Philadelphia. 2. Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes among themselves? A. Certainly 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 businesses, 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 establishments 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 therefore, 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 years 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 the imports from Britain to be above five hundred thousand 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 thousand pounds. 29. Q. You have said that you pay heavy taxes in Pennsylvania; what do they amount to in the pound? A. The tax on all estates, real and personal, is eighteen pence in the pound, fully 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 1763? 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 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 character 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 bulwark and security of their liberties and privileges, and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and veneration. Arbitrary ministers, they thought, might possibly, at times, attempt to oppress them; but they relied on it that the Parliament, on application, would always give redress. They remembered, with gratitude, a strong instance of this, when a bill was brought into Parliament, with a clause to make royal instructions laws in the colonies, 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 demanding 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. 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 first cost and other charges on the commodity, 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 money from us, or ruin us by the consequences of refusing to pay it. 60. Q. But supposing the external tax or duty 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 industry 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 surprising 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 very 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 necessaries, 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 provide them among themselves; and the last, which are much the greatest part, they 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 legislature 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 ascertain 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 connection with each other. The Assemblies have only peaceably resolved what they take to be their rights; they have taken no measures for opposition by force, they have not built a fort, raised a man, or provided a grain of ammunition, in order to such opposition. The ringleaders of riots, they think, ought to be punished; they would punish 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 representatives in this legislature, I think it will never be submitted to; they will oppose it to the last; they 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 by 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 for the good of the colonies.]
127. Q. Is it not necessary to send troops to America to defend the Americans against the Indians? A. No, by no means; it never was necessary. They defended themselves when they were but a handful, and the Indians much more numerous. They continually gained ground, and have driven the Indians over the mountains, without any troops sent to their assistance from this country. 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; they 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 indemnify the sufferers by the riots, 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 they can grant a revenue to the king, without the consent of the Parliament of Great Britain? A. That is a deep question. As to my own opinion, I should think myself at liberty to do it, and should do it, if I liked the occasion.. 135. Q. If the act should pass requiring the American Assemblies to make compensation to the sufferers, and they should disobey it, and then the Parliament should, by another act, lay an internal tax, would they then obey it? A. The people will pay no internal tax; and I think an act to oblige the Assemblies to make compensation is unnecessary; for I am of opinion that as soon as the present heats are abated they will take the matter into consideration, and, if it is right to be done, they will do it of themselves.. 152. Q. Don't you know that there is in the Pennsylvania charter an express reservation of the right of Parliament 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. How, 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 liberties of Englishmen; they find in the Great Charters, and the Petition and Declaration of Rights, 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, by admitting 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? A. "The common rights of Englishmen," as declared by Magna Charta, and the Petition of Right, 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 their 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 otherwise 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.
HENRY C. LODGE.
[One important result of the dissensions between America and England, 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 Carolina. In Virginia the brilliant declamations of Patrick Henry were firebrands of revolution. Other skilled and accomplished orators were Edmund Pendleton, Richard Bland, George Wythe, Peyton Randolph, and Richard Henry Lee. Two other Virginians of extraordinary abilities we may here name, George Washington, already the greatest soldier 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-Revolutionary Americans. Other prominent leaders in Massachusetts were John Hancock, Thomas Cushing, and James Bowdoin, merchants; Samuel Cooper, a clergyman; Josiah Quincy and Robert Treat Paine, lawyers; and John Winthrop, a Harvard professor. The notable orators of South Carolina were John Rutledge, whose powers rivalled those of Patrick Henry; Christopher Gadsden, a fearless republican; Henry Laurens, David Ramsay, and Edward Rutledge, 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 publishing his sentiments. Of the stirring events which followed the repeal 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 forth 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 Rockingham 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 quarter 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 Assembly, 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 New York, as a punishment for their disobedience. This was a warning which could not be mistaken. In the other colonies, even when requisitions were complied 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 indignation. Not content with beginning to enforce the Mutiny Act, Townshend carried measures to impose port duties on wine, oil, and fruit from Spain and Portugal, and 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, unchecked 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 opposition to the Stamp Act. Again non-importation agreements were discussed, but without combination or effect; and Massachusetts, thoroughly alarmed at the prospect of independent crown officers, determined on stronger measures. 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 rendering 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, inveighing 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 riots, for the people had begun to be restless, although there was really no danger of any serious outbreak.
Hillsborough, the new Secretary of State, and the king's friends were indignant at the action of Massachusetts, and letters were sent to the other colonies denouncing the Massachusetts circular, and to Bernard instructing him to order the House to rescind their resolve, and, if they refused, to dissolve them. Meantime, the excitement increased. John Hancock's sloop Liberty was seized, on the ground of evasion of the customs. There was a slight 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 without 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, demanded 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 expected 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 increased to four, and artillery, landed and marched into the town. The Council refused quarters until the barracks were occupied; 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 had simply remonstrated and petitioned legally and properly in defence of their rights, were suddenly thrust royal regiments. The strong feeling of independence in a country where garrisons were absolutely unknown was outraged, while the bad character and licentious habits of the soldiery incensed a rigid, austere, and sober people. Attempts at military coercion and the presence of troops were sure to breed trouble; and, worse than this, they not only awakened the sympathy of the other colonies, but alarmed them for their own safety. It was outside pressure and peril in its strongest form, and nothing tended so strongly to produce the union which alone could be fatal to English rule.
In Virginia, when the Burgesses met, resolutions were passed declaring against 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 stringent 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 adjourned 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 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 everywhere, and were strongly enforced, and all society was drawn into a refusal to use tea. Conflicts with the revenue officers in Rhode Island and elsewhere grew more and more frequent, and the relations of the people with the soldiery in New York and Boston more and more strained. In New York there were violent affrays between the soldiers and the people over the erection of the liberty-pole, and there was fighting in the streets. These outbreaks 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 fray, 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 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 Revolution was not then to open. But Hutchinson appeared in the balcony of the State-House, promised an investigation, and besought peace. The people dispersed, and war was for the moment averted; but nothing could efface the memory of this affray. Regular troops had fired upon the citizens, human life had been sacrificed, and the exaggerated title of the "Boston Massacre" showed the importance 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 committee, 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-Ninth Regiment, 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 pronounced unsatisfactory, and a new committee, again headed by 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 Revolution. 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 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 people in yonder town meeting; the country is rising; night is falling; 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 companions arrested for murder, 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 garrison. 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.
JAMES GRAHAME.
[The state of irritation into which America had been thrown by the injudicious measures of the British Parliament was not allayed by its 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 colonists, 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 they broke out into wild outrages, assembling in 1771 to the number of two thousand, and declaring their purpose to abolish courts 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 Regulators 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 supporting the trade laws and punishing the increasing contraband traffic 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 chased 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 aground. 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 hastily formed to improve the blow and destroy the obnoxious vessel. Brown, an eminent merchant, and Whipple, 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 numbers 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 destroyed 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 offenders.] But no trial took place. Nobody came forward to claim the proffered reward;. . and in the commencement of the following year the commissioners reported to the British ministry their inability, notwithstanding the most diligent inquisition, to procure evidence or information against a single individual.
[In Massachusetts a violent enmity had arisen between Hutchinson, 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 administrations of Governors Bernard and Hutchinson, passed by the Assembly, but they were all negatived by the governors.]
The British government, meanwhile, having rashly determined to enforce the Tea- duty Act, of which the most considerable effect hitherto was a vast importation of smuggled tea into America by the French, the Dutch, the Danes, and the Swedes, attempted to compass by policy what constraint and authority 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 contained above seventeen millions of pounds of tea, for which it was difficult to procure a market. The unwillingness of the Company 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 exportation of tea from England; but the East India Company were now authorized by act of Parliament to export 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 principles and brave the most perilous consequences of their inflexibility. One common sentiment was awakened throughout 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 arose; the corresponding committees and political clubs exerted their utmost activity to rouse and unite the people; and it was generally declared that, as every citizen owed 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 appointed 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 Boston. 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 deposited 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 military force of government, including the garrison of Castle William and several ships of war in the harbor, remained completely inactive. The governor, indeed, issued a proclamation forbidding the people to assemble in factious meetings. But the council, when their protection was implored by the consignees, refused to interfere 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 military 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 proceedings, 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 derision and disdain in America. For the king, shortly after, transported by the blindest abhorrence of the American philosopher, for whom he had once professed esteem, actually 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.
[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 confidently predicted that they would either not fight at all, or at most offer no further opposition than what a few troops could easily quell. Carleton protested that America might certainly be conquered, but that a considerable army would be necessary for this purpose, and that, for himself, he would not venture to march against New York or Boston with a smaller force than ten thousand men. Tryon declared that Britain would require large 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, unfortunately for England, they were corroborated by the kindred folly and ignorance of many British statesmen and officers. "The Americans are a degenerate race of Europeans; they have nothing of the soldier in them," was the customary language of men who were destined by their own defeats to illustrate the valor which they depreciated, 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. . declared 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 in the House of Commons that "The Yankees (a foolish nickname which now began to be applied to the Americans) never felt bold."
The speeches of other military officers in Parliament, and of the prime minister, Lord North, conveyed ideas equally 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 will send the Americans a-running 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 suggestive. Seventeen thousand three hundred and fifty emigrants reached America from the north of Ireland alone in 1771 and 1772. In the first fortnight of August, 1773, three thousand five hundred emigrants from Ireland landed at Philadelphia. Many others came from Scotland, Holland, Germany, and elsewhere. The country was fast filling up with people who had been oppressed at home and who were in the proper temper to strike for liberty abroad.
With the infatuation which had all along marked the acts of Parliament 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 appoint 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 passage of these bills produced universal indignation in America. Philadelphia made a liberal contribution in aid of the poorer inhabitants of Boston who might be injured by the operation of the Port Bill. In Virginia a day of fasting and prayer was ordered, and Jefferson 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 commercial business of the capital of Massachusetts was concluded at noon, and the harbor of this flourishing town was closed, till the gathering storm of the Revolution was to reopen it. At Williamsburg, in Virginia, the day was devoutly consecrated to the religious exercises recommended by the Assembly. At Philadelphia it was solemnized by a great majority of the population with every testimonial of public grief; all the inhabitants, except the Quakers, shut up 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 mourning; and the sentiments thus widely awakened were kept alive and exasperated by the distress to which the inhabitants 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 commerce 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 extensive commerce shared the general hardship; and a great majority of that class of the community who earned daily bread by their daily labor were deprived of the means of support. But, animated still by that enduring and dauntless spirit of freedom which had been the parent principle of the New England communities, the inhabitants of Boston 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 contributions were made for their relief. Corporate bodies, town meetings, and provincial conventions, from all quarters, transmitted to them letters and addresses, applauding their conduct, and exhorting them to perseverance.
[The royal garrison of Boston was now augumented, and its fortifications 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 Rights of America, with many other acts in which a determined spirit of resistance to tyranny was indicated. Before dissolving, it was decreed to meet again on May 10, 1775, if no redress of American grievances 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 advised 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 Assembly. But, alarmed by the temper of the people, he issued a proclamation 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 awful conflict and mighty change. New England, upon which the first violence of the storm seemed likely to descend, was agitated by rumors and alarms, of which the import and the influence strikingly portrayed the sentiments 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 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 fury. In the close of the year there reached America a proclamation issued by the king, prohibiting the exportation of military stores from Great Britain. The inhabitants of Rhode Island no sooner received intelligence of this mandate than they removed from the public battery 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 New 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 introduced by Lord North was passed, which 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 provisions of the bill to restrain commerce were extended to them all, with 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 Assembly urged the postponement of those preparations, reminding their colleagues of the power of Britain and the comparative weakness of America, and insisting that it would 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 indulge in the illusions of hope. We are prone to shut our eyes 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. Nor 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 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 sweeps 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 indifferent to these proceedings.]
Having learned that some military stores belonging to the colonists were deposited in Salem, he despatched Colonel Leslie from Castle William, on the 26th of February, with one hundred and forty soldiers, in a transport, to seize them. The troops, landing at Marblehead, proceeded to Salem; but, not finding there the object of their expedition, they advanced along the road leading to Danvers, 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 commanded them to lower the bridge; but, as they peremptorily 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 further progress.]
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 embarked for Boston. Thus ended the first military enterprise of the Revolutionary War, without effect and without bloodshed.
[Its main effect was to add to the bitterness and to redouble the vigilance of the Americans in guarding their stores. The second enterprise of this kind was not destined to end so harmlessly.]
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 indications of the enterprise appeared than messengers were abroad, and the alarm was rapidly communicated by the ringing of bells and discharge of signal- guns. One citizen of Concord, Reuben 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 same year to Mary Stevenson in London, spoke of England as "that petty island, which, compared 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 afterwards 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 Parliament had any force. The result was that its life was paralyzed, its people gloomy, and its commerce dead. The other colonies 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 whenever 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 military organizations in Boston; as little as possible was said about the arms and stores that were gathered in the country. 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 honestly attributed by the British soldiers to cowardice alone. An officer, quoted by Frothingham, wrote home in November, 1774, "As to what you hear of their taking arms 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. Believe 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 they 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 quantities of beef and pork. Viewed as an evidence of the forethought of the colonists, these statistics are remarkable; 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 Revere rode beneath the bright moonlight through Lexington 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 River the two lights from the church-steeple in Boston which were to show that a British force was going out to seize the patricotic supplies at Concord; he had warned Hancock and Adams at Rev. Jonas Clark's parsonage in Lexington, and had rejected Sergeant Monroe's caution against unnecessary noise, with the rejoinder, "You'll have noise enough here before long: the regulars are coming out." As he galloped on his way the regulars were advancing with steady step behind him, soon warned of their own danger by alarm- bells and signal-guns. When Revere was captured 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 terror to all the neighboring Middlesex towns, for no one knew what excesses the angry British troops might commit on their return march..
Before 5 A.M. on April 19, 1775, the British troops had reached Lexington Green, where thirty-eight men, under Captain Parker, stood up before six hundred or eight hundred 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 pursued the British towards Concord, capturing seven stragglers,the first prisoners taken in the war. Then followed the fight at Concord, where four hundred and fifty Americans, instead of thirty-eight, were rallied to meet the British. The fighting took place between two detachments at the North Bridge, where
"once the embattled farmers 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 placed at the head of the little 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 exposed 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 surrender. At 2 P. M., near Lexington, Percy with his troops met the returning fugitives, and formed a hollow square, into which they ran and threw 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 Provincial 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 farther, and General Heath held the first council of war of the Revolution at the foot of Prospect Hill..
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 engagement of the 19th ult., and I verily believe that the night preceding the barbarous outrages committed by the soldiery 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 Charleston, South Carolina, the people sized 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 convened, 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 defensive. 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 were already well known. Benedict Arnold, who had been commissioned in Massachusetts 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 become 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.
WILLIAM CUTTER.
[The obstinate effort of the British ministry to oblige the Americans to pay taxes in the laying of which they had had no voice, and to force them to submit to their will by military force and severe commercial restrictions, had laid a train of irritation through the colonies which 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 themselves, it is not impossible that the region of the United States might yet have remained a portion of the British empire. It became impossible 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 England, 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 on 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 enclosing the British troops within the city. Generals Ward and Putnam were made commanders of the army, Ward having the chief command. 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 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 possession 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 already 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 Prescott, and other veterans, who understood the character of the American soldiery 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 by 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 fighting. To this objection General Pomeroy answered that he was ready to lead his men to battle with but five cartridges 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..
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 company 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 command 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 Rev. 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 for hours to work, before the dawning light would disclose their operations to the enemy and expose them to an immediate cannonading 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 promising 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 by 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 Americans from the armed vessels and floating batteries, and from the battery on Copp's Hill.. General Putnam, on discovering the design of the enemy, returned immediately 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 reinforcements was unsuccessful. General Ward was strongly impressed with the idea that the British would land on Lechemere'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 army depended were at Cambridge and Watertown, and in no way could the British gain so decided an advantage over them as by securing or destroying them. And this had been the direct object of all their active operations hitherto. It appears, also, that a formidable party of General 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 morning, 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 British troops to prepare for engagement to throw up another redoubt, according to the original plan, and in obedience to orders, on Bunker Hill. He accordingly, with a handful 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 check the advance of the British and prevent them from occupying the redoubt on Breed's Hill. The two summits were within gunshot of each other, the former, which was nearly thirty feet higher, having complete command 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 tremendous firing form 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 enemy 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 victory over the raw, undisciplined troops of the Provinces, the British 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. Rank succeeded ran, and volley following volley mowed them down, till at length they were compelled to retreat..
Three times did the brave veterans of the British retreat 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 Americans 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 highest heroism were less a matter of training than of principle. 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 Abercrombie, 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 withstand a charge. But this the assailants did not know. They relied upon their fire, which was for the most part aimless and ineffectual, while every shot from the redoubt, the breastwork, and the rail fence, being reserved and deliberate, found its victim.
While these terrible scenes were enacting, several reinforcements arrived from Boston to the aid of the British, till their whole number amounted to not less than eight thousand. To add new horrors 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 seeking to gain the rear of the Americans under cover of the smoke, Putnam saw them, and opened on them with some cannon which had been deserted.]
The pieces were well aimed, General Putnam dismounting 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, however, they closed their ranks, and advanced again to the charge. The Americans, their cartridges being spent, resorted to their muskets, and, suffering their assailants to approach 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 heavy volumes, and the balls whistling by on every side, Captain 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 before the murderous 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 Americans, protected by their intrenchments, had suffered but little loss. But now the crisis was to come. Their ammunition was exhausted, and there was no alternative but to retreat. General Howe had learned, by a terrible experience, that it was vain to think of frightening the "undisciplined 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 before. General Clinton joined General Pigot, with a view to turn the right flank of the enemy. The artillery were ordered to advance to 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 fire 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 the redoubt, and began the work of retribution. The artillery, 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 compelled 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 victory. 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 madness. 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 countrymen to the port, which he had scarcely passed when a ball from the enemy arrested him. Major Small [of the British army], as a personal friend,.. endeavored to save him. But Warren 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 watchwords of liberty throughout the world..
The retreating Americans were now between the two wings of the British army, 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 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 destructive 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 officers, whose behavior that day had given promise of the highest military distinction. The retreat was maintained in good order, over the Neck, 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, equally formidable with that they had just purchased 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 warrant 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?"]
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 nothing so dreadful as voluntary 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 difficult one. The militia were undisciplined, 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 governors 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 revenge 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 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 November 3, and proceeded to Montreal, which surrendered on the 13th.
Meanwhile, a force of one thousand men under General Benedict Arnold was marching north through Maine. This march through the unbroken wilderness was one of extraordinary difficulty and hardship. A part of the force turned back, and it was with but six hundred exhausted and half-starved men that Arnold reached Point Levi, opposite Quebec, on November 13. Without delay he crossed 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 remainder retired.
Reinforcements being received, the siege of the city was kept up until the following May, when a British fleet ascended the St. Lawrence, 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 contest 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 description of it must prove of interest to readers. We 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 obtaining naval supremacy on these waters, that he might bring the English troops to Ticonderoga, within convenient distance of Albany, looking to a junction ultimately with the king's forces from the city of New York, and thereby separating and isolating New England from the other States. These lakes and their connections formed the most practicable 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 contractors 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 officers, 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 superintend the construction of the fleet, and to command it when ready for service. .
He was constantly going to and fro, urging on the 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 degree of energy and activity could enable him to equal the armament which Sir Guy Carleton could bring from the St. Lawrence to the theatre of conflict. . On the Ist 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."
The time at which the desperate struggle for supremacy between the fleet of Arnold and that of Sir Guy Carleton approached, Schuyler, Gates, Washington, all were conscious 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 Valcour Island and the western shore. In this position, the rear being unapproachable, and his line extending across the channel, he could be attacked 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] weight 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. Captain Pringle, of the British navy, commanded, but Carleton was himself on board, and among the many young officers was Edward Pellew, afterwards distinguished as Admiral Viscount Exmouth. This fleet carried ninetythree 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 guardboats, stationed as sentinels, gave notice that the British fleet was approaching, and it soon appeared off Cumberland Head, moving before a fair wind up the lake. Carleton 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 behind Valcour Island, Captain Pringle expressed his belief that they would not encounter much resistance, and he anticipated an easy victory; 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 channel in which the Americans had formed their line 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 assistance. 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 American 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 determination, 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 grapeshot 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-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 officers except 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 illustration 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 through which Arnold must pass to effect his escape, with the expectation that in the morning, with his greatly superior force, he would capture the whole American flotilla. Arnold, however, determined to make an effort to escape, and, if he failed, to destroy his ships, 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 except a single signal-lantern in the stern, to guide the ship that followed, attempted to pass through the British lines.
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, bringing 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 up 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 afternoon 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 urged 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 remainder of his vessels might make good their escape, to sacrifice himself, if necessary, to their safety. He received the whole fire of the hostile fleet. A ship mounting 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 already 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 delayed, and the remainder of his own were making good their escape. The Congress was so disabled she could not fly, and Arnold 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 gondolas 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 ordering 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 Ticonderoga. Where has there been a braver fight? Well may 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 control of Lake Champlain, gained by it to the British, opened the way to events which were among the most important of the whole war.]
DAVID RAMSAY.
[That the British army and its officers permitted themselves to be cooped up for nearly a year in Boston, without an effort to break 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 indulged, 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 country would induce most of the same individuals to engage for another twelvemonth; but on experiment it was found that much of their military ardor had already evaporated. The first impulse of passion and the novelty of the scene had brought many 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 assumed 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 officers 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 apply together for leave of absence. Indulgence threatened less ruinous consequences than a refusal would probably have produced. On the whole, enlistments 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 remarkable 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 suffering 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 of their coal-ships. The want of fuel was particularly felt in a climate where the winter is both severe 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 were despatched to the West Indies to procure provisions; but the islands were so straitened that they could afford but little assistance. Armed ships and transports were ordered to Georgia 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 distresses 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 inactivity and confinement of a camp life. Fiery spirits declaimed in favor of an assault. They preferred a bold spirit of enterprise, to that passive fortitude which bears up under present evils while it waits for favorable junctures. 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 army 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. Very early in the contest, the King of Great Britain, by proclamation, forbade the exportation of warlike stores to the colonies. Great exertions had been made to manufacture saltpetre and gunpowder, but the supply was slow and inadequate. A secret committee of Congress had 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 distant 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 stores; but the whole, procured 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 February there were two thousand of the American infantry who were destitute of arms. Powder was equally scarce; and yet daily applications were made for dividends of the small quantity which was on hand for the defence of the various parts threatened with invasion.
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 situation of public affairs led him to conceal the real scarcity of arms and ammunition, and, with that magnanimity which is characteristic of great minds, to suffer his character to be assailed rather than vindicate himself by exposing his many wants. There were not wanting persons who, judging from the superior number of men in the American army, 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 country.
Agreeably to the request of the council of war, about seven thousand of the militia had rendezvoused in February. General Washington stated to his officers that the troops in camp, together 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 garrison, a bombardment of the town from other directions commenced, and was carried on for three days with as much briskness as a deficient stock of powder would admit. In this first essay, three of the mortars were broken, either from a defect in their construction, or, more probably, from ignorance 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 hundred 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 romance. The admiral informed General Howe that if the Americans 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 dislodge 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 bringing 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 countrymen killed on that day. The many eminences in and near Boston which overlooked the ground 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 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 dangerous 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 Robertson, 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 embarkation, 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 intimated 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 seamortars, and stores to the value of thirty thousand pounds. They demolished the castle, and knocked off the trunnions of the cannon. Various incidents caused a delay of nine days after the evacuation, before they left Nantasket road.
This embarkation was attended with many circumstances of distress and embarrassment. On the departure of the royal army from Boston, a great number of the inhabitants attached to their sovereign, and afraid of public 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 transportation. Mutual jealousy subsisted between the army and navy, each charging the other as the cause of some part of their common distress. The army was full of discontent. Reinforcements, though long promised, had not arrived. Both officers and soldiers thought themselves neglected. Five months had elapsed since they had received any advice of their destination. Wants and inconveniences 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. They 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 lay 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 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. Reciprocal 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 Washington 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 great event. The Massachusetts council and house of representatives complimented him in a joint address, in which they expressed 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 fellowmen as their property."
EDMUND OLLIER.
[While the people of the American colonies were so bitterly resisting 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 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 "History 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 deputed 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 discuss 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 efficient consideration of every subject bearing on the political well-being of their widely-separated, but still in some respects 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 members was at least fifty-five, including such men as George Washington, Samuel and John Adams, Patrick Henry, Richard 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 meeting, 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 Henry 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 considered himself a Virginian, but an American. Many contradictory 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 population]..
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 experiment in American legislation. That experiment must be regarded 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 the 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 settlements.. 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. The debates in Congress had proved, on a grander scale than had yet been seen, that the Americans possessed a large amount of debating power, and the genius of statesmanship 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 character 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 firm 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, reinforcements 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. Reverting in some measure to his Albany scheme of 1754, he submitted to Congress 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. Congress 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, 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 Congress 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 perplexed 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 malcontents as rebels, and requiring all loyal subjects to transmit information of traitorous designs to one of the secretaries of state, reached the New World a few weeks after its publication in England, which was on the 23d of August. It was received in New England with anger 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 Philadelphia. 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 administration of their affairs, which had fallen into extreme disorder; and the prayer was granted. South Carolina was permitted to act in the same way. In both cases, the new governments were to exist only during the continuance of the dispute between Great Britain and her American 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 example of Pennsylvania. In New York much loyalty was professed. The strong seats of rebellious sentiment were New England and Virginia, 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 Continental 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 scarcely an existence 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 cargoes. It was proposed by a Maryland delegatewho certainly went far beyond the feeling generally prevalent in his provincethat 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 parts of the world, who might be favorable to the American 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 origin of power; and this doctrine 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 department. . This was another and very important step towards the creation of a national government totally distinct 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 Vergennes [of France], arrived in Philadelphia, and had several conferences with Franklin and the other members of the secret committee. The result 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 designs, though they still kept up the farce of pretending that they were even yet indisposed to sever their connection with England and with the English crown. .
By the 1st of January, 1776, Washington had, by extraordinary exertions, got together a new Continental army in front of Boston,an army of less than ten thousand 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 and St. Andrew on a blue ground. The desire for complete 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 Pennsylvania, moved in Congress for the appointment of a committee to explain to their constituents and to the world the present intentions of the colonial representatives respecting independence. In opposition to this suggestion, Samuel Adams insisted that Congress had already been explicit enough; but Wilson carried his motion. . Congress was timid about taking so extreme a step as a declaration 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 England, 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 minister 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-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 province into union of sentiment with the other colonies,an effort 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 declaration of war against Great Britain as a foreign power. But to the majority this seemed to be moving too fast, though only a small number of enthusiasts continued to believe in the possibility of the old political conditions being restored. . Samuel Adams, in particular, denounced the policy of delay. "Is not America," he asked in Congress, "already independent? Why not, then, declare 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 views 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 essentials of government. John Rutledge delivered vigorously-radical addresses. North Carolina went still further, and on the 12th of April empowered her representatives to vote for independence. South Carolina followed this lead on the 23d of April, Chief-Justice Drayton declaring that the government of the province was independent of that of Great Britain. Rhode Island, on the 4th of May, passed an act freeing its people from allegiance to the king. John Adams's resolution, 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 ancient constitution had been subverted, and dissolved the Assembly. It was immediately succeeded by a convention which declared that Virginia 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 declaration 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 posterity: namely, the enjoyment of life and liberty, with the means of acquiring and possessing property, and pursuing 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 security of the people, nation, or community; and whenever any government shall be found inadequate or contrary to these purposes, a majority of the community hath an indubitable, inalienable, and indefeasible right to reform, alter, or abolish it, in such a manner as shall be judged most conducive to the common weal. Public services not being descendible, neither ought the offices of magistrate, legislator, or judge to be hereditary. . All men having sufficient evidence of permanent common interest with, or attachment to, the community, 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 representatives 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 liberty, 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 arms, is the proper, natural, and safe defence of a free state; standing armies in times of peace should be avoided as dangerous to liberty; and in all cases the military should be under strict subordination to the civil power. . No free government can be preserved but by a firm adherence to justice, moderation, temperance, frugality, and virtue, and by frequent recurrence to fundamental principles. Religion 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 dictates 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 resolution 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 instructions to its delegates in Congress.]
On the very next day, Richard Henry Lee, of Virginia, in the name and with the special authority of that province, submitted to Congress a set of resolutions affirming 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 connection between them and Great Britain was, and ought 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 prepared, and transmitted to the respective colonies for their consideration and approbation. The questions then raised were first considered on the 8th. The speeches were resumed 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. Connecticut 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 complete 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 unanimous. . 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 disasters 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 was about to be formally announced to the world, were, therefore, far from encouraging; yet the faith of those daring statesmen in the force and vitality of their idea was sufficient to triumph over all discouragements and all adverse fortunes.
[The first speaker was John Adams, who had seconded Lee's resolution, 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 impassioned 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 sanction 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 anniversary 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.". .
The committee for drawing up the Declaration of Independence 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 previous state papers), and because he represented the province of Virginia, the oldest of the Anglo-American colonies. Jefferson, having produced 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 resolution 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 shifted, and several alterations were made in it.
[Several changes had been made in the original draft by the committee, 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 termination on the evening of the 4th of July. The document 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 English side of the Atlantic, that the Declaration was a work of greater 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. Englishmen, who regret the quarrel out of which this supreme act of renunciation arose, may yet reflect, with a just satisfaction 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 German absolutism, distasteful alike to Englishmen at home and to their descendants in America. 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 considerable degree, to make the French Revolution; 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 performed. From that day forwardfrom that memorable 4th of July, 1776the Republic of English America assumed a distinct and tangible existence. The United Colonies became the United States. George III. was formally deposed in thirteen provinces of his empire, and some 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 by 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 where 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 overleaped barriers that had affrighted all former legislators. Not Cromwell and Hampden, not the plebeians of Rome and the Demos of Athens, not the Republicans of Venice nor the Calvinists of Holland and Geneva, had ventured upon that tremendous stride in human progress that would alone satisfy the reformers of America. Educated in the strict conceptions of rank and caste which even Massachusetts had cultivated, and Virginia carried to a ludicrous extreme, they threw aside the artificial distinction forever, and declared all men equal. .
At the founding of the republic the colonists were accustomed to boast that their territory extended fifteen hundred miles in length, and was already the seat of a powerful nation. But of this vast expanse the larger part even along the sea-coast was still an uninhabited wilderness. Although more than a century and a half had passed since the first settlements in Massachusetts and Virginia, only a thin line of insignificant towns and villages 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 scarcely 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 Portland 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 Valley and the Mohawk were famous already, but the savages had checked the course of settlement. . Pennsylvania, a frontier State, comparatively populous and wealthy, protected New 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 in population and wealth than New York and Pennsylvania. Virginia and the Carolinas had extended their settlements westward far into the interior. Some emigrants 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 crossed 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 River, 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 waters of the Missouri might extend to the Pacific.]
Within the cultivated district a population usually, but probably erroneously, estimated at three millions were thinly scattered over a narrow strip of land. The number can scarcely be maintained. The New England colonies could have had not more than eight hundred thousand inhabitants; the middle colonies as many more; the Southern a little over a million. New York had a population of two hundred and forty-eight thousand, and was surpassed by Virginia, Pennsylvania, Massachusetts, Maryland, and was at least equalled, if not exceeded, by North Carolina. Its growth had been singularly slow. The small population 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 retained their national customs and language, and were almost an alien race. Huguenot colonies existed in several 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 obstacle to any perfect union of the different colonies. But a still more striking opposition existed in the political institutions 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 distinctions 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 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, the barns overflowing with harvests, the cattle, the sheep. The Northern and middle colonies were famous for sheep and corn. Pennsylvania was the granary 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 Hudson 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 village. 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 Virginia the life of trade and intercourse; 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 annually to gather in the great crops of the large planters, . . [and] Virginia 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 Great Britain. No foreign ship was suffered to enter the American harbors. . [Yet] the colonists 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 important trade. On the island of Nantucket the whalefishery 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, smuggling prevailed all 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 Englishmen who were capable 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 proportions. 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 vigorously 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 colonies were directed to make a careful report to the home government of the condition of the colonial manufactures, in order that they might be effectually destroyed. From their authentic but perhaps not always accurate survey it is possible to form a general conception of the slow advance of this branch of labor. South of Connecticut, we are told, there were scarcely any manufactures: the people imported everything that they required from Great Britain. Kalm, indeed, found leather made at Bethlehem, 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 all manufactured articles employed 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 already in operation; that fur hats were manufactured 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 dangerous rivalry. The English traders petitioned the government 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 jealousy 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 manufactures were suppressed by stringent provisions. American factories were declared "nuisances." No wool or manufacture of wool could be carried from one colony 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 which 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 up on the lakes and great rivers of the West our country offered no parallel. Chicago and St. Louis, the centres of enormous wealth and unlimited commerce, had yet no predecessors. Pleasant villages had sprung up in New England, New 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 luxury and splendor. Yet even New York, Philadelphia, and Boston, extensive as they appeared to the colonists, were insignificant towns compared to the English capitals, and gave no promise of ever approaching that grandeur which seemed to be reserved especially for London and Paris. In 1774 the population 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 Neck, 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 thousand inhabitants, closely confined to the neighborhood of the bay. . The Boston of 1774, which proclaimed freedom 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 thickly-built part of the town lay in the neighborhood of Whitehall. Some fine houses lined Broadway and Broad Street, but to the west of Broadway 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 gathered on the house tops to catch the cool air. Lamps had already been placed on the streets. Fair villas covered the environs, and even the Baroness Riedesel, 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 were 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 III. 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 harbor 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. Virginia 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 York 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 Carolinas almost as in the days of Raleigh.
To pass from one city to another along this desolate shore was, in 1775, a long and difficult journey. Roads had been early built in most of the colonies. In Massachusetts 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 requested 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 was a tedious journey. In fair weather 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 were 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 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 expended 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 consumed by our ancestors, and even. New England had as yet no high repute for temperance. Rum was taken as a common restorative. The liquor-shops of New York had long been a public annoyance. In the far-southern colonies, 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 may trust the judgment of Washington, who seems to have found too many of them willing to improve their fortunes from the resources 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 some-what 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 Revolution.]
THOMAS JEFFERSON.
[As a fitting epilogue to the history of Colonial America, and prologue to that of Independent America, we append the highly-important document whose consideration and passage by the Continental Congress are described in a preceding article. The committee appointed to draw up this paper consisted of Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, Roger Sherman, and Philip Livingston, but its preparation, as there stated, was left by the committee to Jefferson, from his supposed peculiar fitness for 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 say of human liberty, since in the republic of the United States the freedom of mankind was first solidly based and permanently assured.]
WHEN, in the course of human events, it becomes necessary 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, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or 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 likely to effect their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object, evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance 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 submitted 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 immediate 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 accommodation of large districts of people, unless those people would relinquish the right of representation in the legislature, a right inestimable, and formidable to tyrants only.
He has called together legislative bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of their public records, for the sole purpose of fatiguing them into compliance with his measures.
He has dissolved representative houses repeatedly, for opposing, 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 naturalization 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 refusing 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 harass 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 others to subject us to a jurisdiction foreign 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 for any murders which they should commit on the inhabitants of these states:
For cutting off our trade with all parts of the world:
For imposing taxes on us 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 pretended 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 valuable laws, and altering fundamentally the forms of our government:
For suspending our own legislatures, and declaring themselves invested with 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 plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns, and destroyed the lives of our people.
He is, at this time, transporting large armies of foreign mercenaries to complete the works of death, desolation, and tyranny, already begun with circumstances of cruelty and perfidy, 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 become 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 bring on the inhabitants of our frontiers the merciless Indian savages, whose known rule of warfare 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 petitions have been answered only by repeated injury.
A prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
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 unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them, by the ties of our common kindred, to disavow these usurpations, which would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. 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 INDEPENDENT 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 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 declaration, 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, Matthew Thornton. Massachusetts, Samuel Adams, John Adams, Robert Treat Paine, Elbridge Gerry. Rhode Island, Stephen Hopkins, William Ellery. Connecticut, Roger Sherman, Samuel Huntington, William Williams, Oliver Wolcott. New York, William Floyd, Philip Livingston, Francis Lewis, Lewis Morris. New Jersey, Richard Stockton, John Witherspoon, Francis Hopkinson, John Hart, Abraham Clark. Pennsylvania, Robert Morris, Benjamin Rush, Benjamin Franklin, John Morton, George Clymer, James Smith, George Taylor, James Wilson, George Ross. Delaware, Caesar Rodney, George Read. Maryland, Samuel Chase, William Paca, Thomas Stone, Charles Carroll, of Carrollton. Virginia, George Wythe, Richard Henry Lee, Thomas Jefferson, Benjamin Harrison, Thomas Nelson, junior, Francis Lightfoot Lee, Carter Braxton. North Carolina, William Hooper, Joseph Hewes, John Penn. South Carolina, Edward Rutledge, Thomas Heyward, junior, Thomas Lynch, junior, Arthur Middleton. Georgia, Button Gwinnett, Lyman Hall, George Walton.
PRELIMINARY REMARKS.
JEFFERSON'S immortal manifesto has been pecked at by certain latter-day dilettante critics for alleged indifference to the dictates of genteel literary style, as by them understood. As if thunderbolts are to be gauged by the snapping of popguns! The men who signed the Declaration were men in earnest; they spake as they were moved by patriotic fervor, and their sound still echoes from the ends of the grateful world.
The important action taken by the Continental Congress 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 soldiers, and a resolution taken to convert into bullets the lead of which it was made. This riotous proceeding was severely rebuked by Washington.
In Baltimore independence was proclaimed amid the roar of artillery, while the effigy of the king became the sport of the populace, and was afterwards burned in the public square. In Boston the rejoicings of the people 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 prepared 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 convention 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 applied to a country of such extent, and which involved innumerable 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 Congress at once addressed itself. The tie which had hitherto held together the colonies was slight and temporary. 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 committee on the 12th of July. On the 22d the House began the consideration of the proposed articles, the principal subjects of debate being the proportion of money which each State should pay into the common treasury, 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 untaxed 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 be 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 always 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 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 Rights, as opposed to the supremacy of the Union, which has not yet been definitely settled.
The debate on the Articles of Confederation was continued for several months, and the whole subject thoroughly canvassed, standing committees of Congress meanwhile 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 condition 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 great part a struggle to reduce the prerogatives of the monarch who claimed them as subjects. So much power had been exercised 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 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 concurrence 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.
New York and Massachusetts went a step farther. 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 be 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 by 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 the 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 chamber was therefore added. A similar action was afterwards taken by Georgia.
Every State appointed a supreme executive, 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 rotation 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 security for the permanence of republican institutions, all the States agreed in prohibiting hereditary honors or distinctions of rank. They all, moreover, abolished state religions. Some retained 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 whenever they chose, the General Congress continued the consideration 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 communicated 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 in 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 deciding on peace and war, of sending and receiving ambassadors, of forming treaties and alliances, of regulating coinage, of fixing the standard of weights and measures, of managing Indian affairs, of establishing 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 existing, 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 termination 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 Confederation 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 theory of local control of local affairs, and of national control of general affairs, could be carried out in all the complex details of the existence of a great confederated nation.
As for the means through which the declared independence was to be consummated, and the opposing means through which England hoped to reduce her revolted colonies 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 inconvenience 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 villainy that can disgrace the man, the soldier, 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 punishments 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 necessarily 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 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 impossible 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 unheeded. 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 opposition, 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 discouraging 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 British 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 greatly reduced in numbers, and the term of all its members would end within a month. Indications looked towards its complete disbandment, and a hopeless yielding 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 fortunes 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 Parliament, 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 proposals, 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 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 application for twenty thousand infantry 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 refusal was so expressed as to give great offence 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 loyalists 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 refused the use of this body, except for employment in Europe. This George III. declined. He had, indeed, obtained 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 negotiations were carried on with the Duke of Brunswick and the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel. The subjects of these magnates were bought like so many cattle, it being arranged 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 manner 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
Many 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 Declaration 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.
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 fortification, 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 breast-works, 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 commander.
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 mercenaries, who had been bargained for by the British ministry and handed over as slaves by their impecunious rulers to aid in subduing the revolted 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 the strong tory element in that vicinity. He therefore, soon after, came to that city. The most vigorous preparations 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 encourage recruiting. About twenty-seven thousand men were 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 letter 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 defeat of Fort Moultrie. They had thirty thousand men, admirably disciplined and equipped; among them about eight thousand of the dreaded Hessians. The fleet, consisting 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 proclamation they accordingly 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 demanded. 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 afterwards changed to "George Washington, The messenger endeavored to show that this bore any meaning which might be desired. But Washington utterly refused 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 was 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 unfortunately 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 Shoemaker'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 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. Retreat 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 corps to close in upon General 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 Smallwood'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 beheld 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 Republic which had just issued its Declaration of Independence. The British loss was but four hundred, and the American nearly two thousand. Of the latter, one thousand, who were with Generals Sullivan and Stirling, were prisoners. The higher officers were soon exchanged, but the hard lot of the privates and lower officers made the fate of those who perished in battle to be envied. Numbers were confined in the sugar-house and the old hulks at Wallabout, where afterwards 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 immediately, the Americans would probably have been utterly destroyed. Fortunately, he delayed for the fleet to cooperate; 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, sentinels, 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 riverside, gradually died away in the distance. Suddenly the roar of a cannon burst upon the night-air. "The effect," says an American 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 British camp. Started by this unexpected contre-temps, the men reached the shore. Washington, feeling 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 Mifflin!" 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 mistake," exclaimed Washington; "and unless you can regain the picket-lines before your absence is discovered, the most disastrous consequences may follow." Mifflin hastened back, but again the dense fog and Providence had favored them, so that, though nearly an hour had intervened, 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 was 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 River and cut off communication between New 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 British captain, with a handful of men, stealthily crept down through the fallen trees, and, crawling over the intrenchments, found them deserted. A troop of horse hurried to the river and captured the last boat, manned by three vagabonds 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 Randall's, Clinton, with a heavy body of troops, crossed the East River 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 Street. The American troops at this point fled from the intrenchments. 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. Washington came galloping among the fugitives and rallied them. But when two- or three-score red-coats came in sight, they broke again without firing a shot, and scattered in the wildest terror. Losing all self- command at the sight of such cowardice, Washington dashed forward towards 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. Rallying his self-possession, Washington hastened to look after the safety of the rest of his army. It was a moment of extreme peril. Fortunately, on landing, Howe, Clinton, and some others called at the house of Robert Murray for refreshments. 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 admirable 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 hurrying his men along the Bloomingdale road, not a mile distant, under a burning sun, through clouds of dust, and liable at any moment to be raked by the fire of the English 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 fireship 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 broadsides upon his little boat as he was rapidly rowed away, while huge billows of flame bursting out from the fireship lighted up the fleet and the harbor with terrible distinctness. From every side boats put off to the rescue of the endangered vessel, which was finally brought safely 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 they 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.]
HENRY B. CARRINGTON.
[The withdrawal of Washington to the Highlands left the garrisons at Forts Washington and Lee in a position of great insecurity. General Greene had persisted in retaining the garrison in Fort Washington, 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 besieged 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 valuable 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 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 December, 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 of 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 injuring 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 extremity. 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 England," 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. In New York the young officers were preparing to amuse themselves with dramatic performances, while gambling served to fill the intervals between the frequent balls and parties. Cornwallis left Grant in command 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 Rahl, 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 Rahl, 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.
Yet 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 offered 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 description of the important events that succeeded.]
ON the twenty-fifth day of December, 1776, the regiments of Anspach, Knyphausen, and Rahl, with fifty chasseurs and twenty light dragoons, making a total effective 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 Rahl'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 movement, especially under the circumstances of severe weather, which almost disarmed the assailants. It is well known that rumors of an impending offensive return by Washington had reached Colonel Rahl, 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 Rutherford 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. Griffin was expected still to occupy the attention of Donop, as if the demonstrations across the river were but the faverish 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 farther down the river, as a constraint upon the possible movement of that corps to the support of Colonel Rahl, the right wing under Colonel John Cadwallader, not yet 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 twentyfour hundred men, which was to cross nine miles above Trenton, at McConkey's Ferry. Learning that Maidenhead was almost without garrison, except a troop of dragoons, it was the purpose of the American commander also to include that sub-post within his raid.
It was also expected that General Putnam would cross from Philadelphia early on the twenty-sixth, with at least a thousand men. The plan embraced the entire deliverance 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 returned 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 passing 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, accompanied 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 early as five o'clock on the morning of the twenty-sixth.
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 volunteers from Philadelphia in that command, going forth for the first 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. Glover, the man of Marblehead, a hero of the Long Island retreat, and Webb and Scott, and William 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 many 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 discomfort, 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 retreats" 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 Rodney; "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 effected until three o'clock, but the army did not march until four. Retreat could not be made without discovery, annoyance, and consequent 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 more 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 bayonet 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, towards 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. Washington'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 fire on the lower road that that division had also got up." The pickets on both sides 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 battery 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 inclining east of south, to the crossing of Second and Front Streets, by which Sullivan must approach. Colonel Rahl occupied the large 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 purpose of advancing up King Street to its summit, but Captain 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 towards the Princeton road to escape in that direction. This last detachment was met by Colonel Hand's rifle battalion, 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 Virginia battalions had been thrown still farther to the left, thus completely closing the gap between Hand and the Assanpink River.
While Rahl was gathering his own companies as rapidly as possible, the two guns at his head-quarters had been partially manned and were ready 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 support could be brought up for their protection. Rahl moved his companies as soon as formed, and joined Knyphausen'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 Rahl was too strict a soldier 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 untenable, hopelessly exposing the men to a fire which could not be returned. Two of the guns which were 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 control 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 towards Bordentown, 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 additional 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 Rahl while urging his men to assault 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 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 lieutenant- 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 Colonel Rahl'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 Hessians. The more men they gathered in those narrow streets, the better it was for American artillery practice. Rahl 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 opportunity. 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 Rahl 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 artillery had its play at will beyond musket-range and upon higher ground, with little chance for the Hessians to render fire in return. A few skilfully-handled guns determined 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 developed 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 experience 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 reinforcements of militia, and induced some of his men whose term was about expiring to remain six weeks longer, he recrossed to Trenton on December 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. Washington accordingly devised a stratagem which proved highly successful. Kindling his camp-fires, and leaving guards and sentinels, he decamped that night with his whole army, and reached Princeton the next morning, about the time that Cornwallis discovered his disappearance. 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 confined to the two posts of Amboy and New Brunswick. The people of New Jersey, who had been cruelly abused by the invaders, now retaliated by a guerilla warfare, cutting off outposts, attacking stragglers, and so annoying the British that they hardly dared venture beyond their lines.]
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 Washington 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 energetic 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. Rhode Island was also strongly garrisoned. Yet about this time an adventure of striking boldness occurred on that island. General Prescott, who commanded the Rhode 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 satisfaction 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 intentions 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 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 developed 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 experience 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 reinforcements of militia, and induced some of his men whose term was about expiring to remain six weeks longer, he recrossed to Trenton on December 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. Washington accordingly devised a stratagem which proved highly successful. Kindling his camp-fires, and leaving guards and sentinels, he decamped that night with his whole army, and reached Princeton the next morning, about the time that Cornwallis discovered his disappearance. 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 confined to the two posts of Amboy and New Brunswick. The people of New Jersey, who had been cruelly abused by the invaders, now retaliated by a guerilla warfare, cutting off outposts, attacking stragglers, and so annoying the British that they hardly dared venture beyond their lines.]
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 Washington 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 energetic preparations for the defence of that city. Howe set sail from Sandy Hook on the 23rd of July with a large and well-appointed army, leaving a strong garrison to hold New York. Rhode Island was also strongly garrisoned. Yet about this time an adventure of striking boldness occurred on that island. General Prescott, who commanded the Rhode 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 satisfaction 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 intentions 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 Hudson or assail Charleston. The Delaware had been rendered impassable by obstructions, and all doubt was finally ended by the appearance of the fleet in the Chesapeake. It was now the last of August, the fleet having been baffled and delayed by persistent contrary 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 the 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 Knyphausen, the left by Lord Cornwallis. His plan was, that while the first should make repeated 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 cannonade upon the passage of Chadsford, making all his dispositions as if he intended to force it. The Americans defended 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 skirmishes, 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 the second column, took a circuitous march to the left, and gained unperceived the forks of the Brandywine. By this rapid movement he passed both branches of the river at Trimble's and at Jeffery's Fords, without opposition, about two o'clock in the afternoon, and then, turning short down the river, took the road to Dilworth, in order to fall upon the right flank of the American army. The republican general, however, received intelligence of this movement 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 immediately 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 compensate 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 effect 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 commanding 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 it appears 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 engagement 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 invigorated the efforts of the English and Hessians [between whom a feeling of rivalry existed] that neither the advantages of situation, nor a heavy and well-supported fire of small-arms and artillery, nor the unshaken courage 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 they 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 artillery, 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 receive 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.
[Knyphausen now prepared to convert his feint into a real crossing of the river.]
The passage of Chadsford was defended by an intrenchment 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 retired in disorder, abandoning their artillery and munitions to the German general. In their retreat, or rather flight, they passed behind the position of General 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 effected their escape through by-ways and circuitous routes. The victors passed the night on the field of battle. If darkness 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 hundred taken prisoners. They also lost ten field-pieces and a howitzer. The loss in the royal army was not in proportion, being something under five hundred, of which the slain did not amount to one-fifth.
[The foreign officers, Count Pulaski, a noble Pole, Lafayette, Captain de Fleury, and the Baron St. Ovary, were of great use to the Americans in this conflict. St. Ovary was taken prisoner, and Lafayette 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 days 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 ammunition of the Americans, and Washington was forced to withdraw 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 Reading threatened by the British, moved to cover them, and abandoned Philadelphia, which was occupied by the enemy on the 26th of September. Congress adjourned to Lancaster. Yet Washington's activity continued unremitting. Batteries were erected on the Delaware, and obstructions sunk, 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 continued street of two miles in length. The British line of encampment crossed Germantown at right angles about the centre, the left wing extending on the west from the town to the Schuylkill. . The centre, being posted within the town, was guarded by the Fortieth Regiment, and another battalion of light 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 purpose of separating the right and left wings of the British army. Parties 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 discovered the approach of the Americans: the troops were soon called to arms; each took his post with the precipitation of surprise. About sunrise the Americans came up. General Conway, having driven in the pickets, fell upon the Fortieth Regiment 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 Regiment, into a large and strong stone house, situated near the head of the village, 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 convert of the enemy, but those within continued to defend themselves 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 turning the right and left flanks of the British army failed to perform the work expected of them.]
The consequence was that General Grey, finding his left flank secure, marched, with nearly the whole of the left wing, to the assistance of the centre, which, notwithstanding the unexpected resistance of Colonel Musgrave, was excessively hard pressed in Germantown, where the Americans gained ground incessantly. The battle was now very warm at that village, the attack and the defence being 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 had 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 party: the English had already 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 number 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 principal causes of the failure of this well-concerted enterprise 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 incessantly broke the ranks of their battalions; . . and, finally, the unexpected resistance of Musgrave, who found means, 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 approbation of the plan of action and the courage shown in its execution, and passed a vote of thanks to the general and the army. Washington 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 himself 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 yielded them the effects of defeat. Nor was the taking of Philadelphia 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 army, surrounded 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 country between the banks of that river and those of the Delaware. He thus repressed the excursions of the English, prevented them from foraging with safety, 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 surrounding country, diligently endeavored to remove the obstructions from the Delaware, that his fleet might come up. Arrangements were made for attacks in force on the batteries of Fort Mifflin, on the Pennsylvania side, and of Fort Mercer, at Red Bank, on the Jersey shore.]
According to these dispositions, the English put themselves in motion on the evening of the twenty-first of October. Colonel Donop, a German officer, who had distinguished 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 intrenchment, well furnished with artillery. Donop attacked the fort with the utmost gallantry. The Americans, after a slight resistance in the outer intrenchment, finding their number too small to man it sufficiently, 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 mortally wounded and taken prisoner. Several of his best officers were killed or disabled; Colonel Mingerode himself, the second in command, received a dangerous wound. The Hessians were then severely repulsed; and Lieutenant-Colonel Linsing drew them off with 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.
[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 thousand 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 unsuccessful efforts 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. With these movements the campaign of 1777 ended.]
BENSON J. LOSSING.
[While Washington, in the early part of 1777, was boldly facing the enemy in New Jersey, affairs of great importance were taking place in the North, which were destined to prove of the utmost advantage to the American cause. The momentous expedition of Burgoyne, which was actively preparing in the spring of that year, was preceded by several conflicts in New England, which may be briefly mentioned. General Tryon, 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 committed 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 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 expedition, 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 country, the Canadians, and the Indians would have given him exceptional advantages in its prosecution.
Burgoyne reached Quebec in March, 1777. Carleton, though annoyed 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 Rangers, was sent to Oswego, to march from the 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 three 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. Fort 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 Fort 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 Fort 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 "Field-Book of the Revolution," in which it is detailed with the picturesque clearness of that able writer.]
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 Champlain.. 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 garrisoned, and certain discomfiture seemed to await the patriots in that region. Colonel Gansevoort, however, was vigilant, active, and hopeful. He wrote spirited letters to General 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 Rangers, 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 prepared to invest Fort Schuyler. The Indians were led by Brant [the celebrated Indian chief], and the whole beleaguering 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 apart, formed a line of communication. The advanced guard was one hundred paces in front of the main 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 crops 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 garrison 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, encircled 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 Gansevoort to signify his arrival by the discharge of three guns. But the messenger was delayed, and the militia officers, full of ungoverned valor, so pressed their experienced leader to advance that he finally yielded to their importunity 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.]
St. Leger had intelligence of the advance of Herkimer and detached a division of Johnson's Greens, under Major Watts, Colonel Butler with his Rangers, 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 troops 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 hearing 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 protect the cannon, and to act otherwise as circumstances might require.. Rain was falling copiously while preparations for the sortie were in progress, but the moment it ceased Willett sallied out and fell furiously 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 approach 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 moments 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 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 garrison, were captured. 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-staff, 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 presented 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, towards 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, composed 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 hard feelings that existed between the commander and some of his officers caused a degree of insubordination which proved fatal in its consequences. 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, extending from the high grounds on the south to the river, and curved towards 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 timbered. A thick growth of underwood, particularly 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 causeway was surrounded by them, as by a circle, leaving only a small segment open where the road entered. Unsuspicious of the proximity 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 companions in the ravine to their fate. They were pursued by the Indians, and probably suffered more in their cowardly flight than if they had boldly 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 Van Slyk were killed at the first fire. A musketball passed through and killed the horse of the general, and shattered his own leg just below the knee. With perfect 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 slanderers who called him a coward.
For nearly an hour the fierce action continued, and by slow degrees the enemy was closing in upon the republicans. The latter then made an admirable change in their method of repulsion. They formed themselves into circles, 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 promptly 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 defence. It had been observed by the patriots that the Indians, as soon as they saw a gun fired by a provincial from behind a tree would rush forward and tomahawk him before he could reload. 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 parties faced and recognized each other, seemed to give new 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. Colonel 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 character, and, ordering 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 cry, "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, through the Americans held the field, they were unable 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. 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 Stockwell 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 camp, and for hours they stood still, fearing to advance or retreat. The clouds broke away towards dawn, and the morning star in the east, like the light of hope, revealed to them their desired course. They then pushed on in a zigzag way, and, like the Indians, 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 paralels, within one hundred and fifty 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 before their supplies were exhausted, to sally out at night and cut his way through 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 mystery was soon solved. General Arnold had volunteered to lead a force to the relief of the fort. Fearing that it would be captured before his main body could arrive, he pushed forward with a detachment, conceiving a stratagem which proved remarkably successful. 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 bullets 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 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 greatly 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 religious 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 upon flight, and told St. Leger so. He sent for and questioned 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 circuitious 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 play, 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 communicated 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 intelligence of Arnold's approach. The Indians, it is said, made themselves merry at the precipitate flight of the whites, who threw away their arms and knapsacks, so that nothing should impede their progress. The savages also gratified 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 plundered them of their boats, and, according to St. Leger, "became 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 Ontario to Canada.. Thus ended the siege of Fort Schuyler, in the progress of which the courage, endurance, and skill of the Americans, everywhere so remarkable in the Revolution, were fully displayed.
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 irreparable misfortunes. Its commander, General Burgoyne, 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 experienced soldiers. His army was a fine one, well-appointed, and reinforced by a large force of Canadians and Indians whom he had called to his aid. General Schuyler, who commanded against him, was removed 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 assuring 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 history, the most painful 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 defeat 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 expedition, 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 River. 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 communication 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 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 superiority 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 forward to aid America. It is true that England was generally regarded with jealousy and ill will, and was thought to have acquire, at the treaty of Paris, a preponderance of dominion which was perilous 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.
Burgoyne reached the left bank of the Hudson River on the 30th of July. Hitherto he had overcome every difficulty 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 between 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.]
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 Arnold, 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. Burgoyne'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 commit, he could not prevent the occurrence of many barbarous outrages, repugnant both to the feelings of humanity and to the laws of civilized warfare. The American commanders 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 firearms, and all partially trained by service in the provincial militias, were flocking to the standard of Gates and Arnold at Saratoga, and while Burgoyne was engaged at Fort Edward in providing the means for the further advance of his army through the intricate and hostile country 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 were even more important than the immediate result of the encounters..
[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 Baum, with a large detachment of German troops, at Bennington, whither Burgoyne had sent them for the purpose of capturing some magazines of provisions, of which the British army stood greatly in need. The Americans, augmented by continual accessions of strength, succeeded, after many 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 infantry which was advancing to Colonel Baum's assistance under Lieutenant-Colonel Breyman, 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 thirty-nine miles from Albany. The Americans had fallen back from Saratoga, and were now strongly posted near Stillwater, about halfway between Saratoga and Albany, 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 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 body 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 English army. 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 anxiously looking for intelligence of the promised expedition from New York, which, according to the original plan, ought by 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 Hudson to attack the American forts which barred the passage 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 Burgoyne, while, on the other hand, Gates's army was continually reinforced by fresh bodies of the militia. An expeditionary force was detached by the Americans which made a bold though unsuccessful attempt to retake Ticonderoga. Finding the number and spirit of the enemy to increase daily, and his own stores of provisions to diminish, 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 intrenchments 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 person, having Generals Phillips, Riedesel, 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 Goll.
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 successfully executed a brilliant enterprise against the two American forts which barred his progress up the Hudson. He had captured them both, with 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 squadron. He was now only a hundred and fifty-six miles distant from Burgoyne, and a detachment of seventeen hundred 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 campaign 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 American 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 column 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 British 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 grenadiers 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 the centre, so as to prevent the Germans from sending any help to the grenadiers. Burgoyne's right was not yet engaged; but a mass of the enemy were observed advancing 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 manoeuvre, and also to succor their comrades in the left wing, the gallant grenadiers, who were overpowered by superior 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 return to their camp, leaving six of their guns in the possession 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, assaulted 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 was occupied by the light infantry under Lord Balcarras. But the English received him with vigor and spirit. The struggle here was obstinate and sanguinary. At length, as it grew towards evening, 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 this bitter regret, he was obliged to be carried back. His party still continued the attack; but the English also continued their obstinate resistance, and at last night fell, and the assailants withdrew from this quarter of the British intrenchments. 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 intrenchments on the extreme right, which was defended by the German reserve under Colonel Breyman. The Germans 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 accordingly 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 the 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 Fraser 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 committed to the hostile earth. The ceremony, always mournful and solemn of itself, was rendered 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 artillery amid the natural darkness and stillness of the night came on the senses with startling awe. The grave had been dug within range of the enemy'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 any 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 period has been justly eulogized by many native historians, but I prefer quoting the testimony of a foreign writer, as free from all possibility of partiality. Botta says,-
"It exceeds the power of words to describe the pitiable condition to which the British army was now reduced. 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 soldiers and the most distinguished officers, from ten thousand 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 constantly under arms, while the enemy's cannon played on every part of their camp, and even the American riffle-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 want of temper or fortitude."
At length the 13th of October arrived, and, as no prospect of assistance appeared, and the provisions were nearly exhausted, Burgoyne, by the unanimous advice of a council 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. Burgoyne replied, "This article is inadmissible in every extremity: 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 messages, a convention for the surrender of the army was settled, which provided that "the troops under General Burgoyne 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 arms and artillery were to be left. The arms to be piled by word of command from their own officers. 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 Burgoyne'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. Accordingly, 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 retreated 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 Burgoyne'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 enthusiasm throughout America, and produced a radical change in the attitude of the Europeans. France, in particular, at once consented to the treaty, which had been long delayed, and the negotiations towards which had been almost broken off 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 servere 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 reaching 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 vigilant 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 money to pay teamsters. Huts were rapidly constructed, and a military village was formed, in which the soldiers were to some degree protected from the wintry weather. But they continued to suffer severely from want of all the other necessaries of life. Irving's "Life of Washington" 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, Washington 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 opinions and suggestions of his officers on the subject, and from these, and his own observations and experience, had prepared a document exhibiting the actual state 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, however, 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 consequence. 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 great jealousy of the army on the part of Congress, and all that Washington could effect by strenuous and unremitted exertions was a kind of compromise, according to which officers were to receive half-pay 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 provisions and cattle they denied it, intending to take them to Philadelphia, where they could obtain greater prices. The undisturbed communication with the city had corrupted the minds of the people in its vicinage. "This State is sick even unto death," said Gouverneur Morris.
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 thy 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. "Unprovided 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 fortitude 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 maorence 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 conquered place. Private houses were occupied without rendering compensation; the officers were quartered on the principal inhabitants, many of whom were of the Society of "Friends;" some even transgressed so far against propriety as to introduce their mistresses into the quarters thus oppressively 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 dissipation," 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 army 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 ammunition 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 formidable 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 post 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 were bravely repulsed, and sheered off, 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. We 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 arrival bespeak the simplicity of style in this rude encampment. "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 encampment began to assume a more cheering aspect..
The most important arrival in the camp was that of the Baron 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 of Suabia, lieutenant-general under the Prince Margrave of Baden, and knight of the Order of Fidelity; 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 appointments, 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.-Germain, French Minister of War, and others of the French cabinet, to come out to America and engage in the cause they were preparing to defend. Their object was to secure 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 years of age, a soldier of fortune, to the rude fighting-grounds of America, to aid a half-disciplined people in their struggle for liberty. No certainty of remuneration was held out to him, but there was an opportunity for acquiring military glory; the probability of adequate reward should the young 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 expenses.
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 your country all the service in my power, and to deserve the title of a citizen of America by fighting for the cause of your liberty. If the distinguished ranks in which I have served in Europe should be an obstacle, I had rather serve under your Excellency as a volunteer, than to be an object of discontent among such deserving officers as have already 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 wholly given myself up."
By Washington's direction, the baron had proceeded direct to Congress. His letters procured him a distinguished reception from the President. A committee was appointed to confer with him. 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 compensation as he might be thought to merit.
The committee having made their report, the baron's proffered services were accepted, with a vote of thanks for his disinterestedness, and he was ordered to join the army at Valley Forge. That army, in its ragged condition and squalid quarters, presented a sorry aspect to a strict disciplinarian 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, however, 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 manceuvres 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 upon its duties. The baron appeared to be peculiarly 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 several of these. Among the inspectors was a French gentleman 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 manceuvring, and the best of them had much to learn. The baron furnished his sub-inspectors with written instructions relative to their several functions. He took a company of soldiers under his immediate training, and, after he had sufficiently schooled it, made it a model for the others, exhibiting the manceuvres 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 manceuvres 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 rejoiced." He made Walker his aide-de-camp, and from that time had 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 polished, and examined whether the men's accoutrements were in good order.
He was sadly worried for a time with the militia; especially when any manceuvre 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 manceuvre. (On one occasion, having exhausted all his German and French oaths, he vociferated to his aide-de-camp, Major Walker, "Viens, mon ami Walker,viens, mon bon ami. SacreGdam de gaucherie of dese badautsje ne puis plusI can curse dem no more." Carden, "Anecdotes of the American War," p.341.)
Still the grand marshal of the court of Hohenzollern mingled with the veteran soldier of Frederick and tempered his occasional bursts of impatience; and he had 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 examined the doctors' reports, visited the sick, and saw that they were well lodged and attended.
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 any important manceuvres, 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 instructions were appreciated by all. The officers received them gladly and conformed to them. The men soon became 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 intelligent, 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 termination 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 relinquish. Their position there was neatly expressed by Benjamin Franklin, who, when told that General Howe had taken Philadelphia, replied, "You 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 derived 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 provided with munitions of war. The loss of Philadelphia had not impaired the spirit or strength of the army, while the capture of Burgoyne 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 outweighted 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 important 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 York. This action was in consequence 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 Washington'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 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 were parted by a violent storm, which greatly damaged both fleets. General 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 army 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 position 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 they proceeded to defend themselves by intrenchments. 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 offered 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 business of the United States at the court of France." They were furnished with the draft of a treaty, credentials, 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 munitions of war and forward them to the United States, and to ascertain, as far as he could, the views and disposition 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 Franklin Bache. They passed the night at Chester, and the next day embarked on board the Continental sloop-of-war Reprisal, 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 Reprisal came to anchor in Quiberon Bay, near the mouth of the Loire. . The sloop was sometimes chased by British cruisers, and Captain Wickes prepared 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 prizes, 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 7th of December.]
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 afterwards Dr. Franklin removed to Passy, a pleasant village near Paris. . He remained at this place during the whole of his residence in France.
The intelligence of Franklin's arrival was immediately published and circulated throughout Europe. 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 Richard," 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 without a parallel in any other writer. The history of his recent transactions in England, his bold and uncompromising 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 might say that he fulfilled his mission, not with a court, but with a free people. Diplomatic etiquette did not permit 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 dignity, 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 expired, no one conceived 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 French court should not disapprove this measure. They were, moreover, authorized to ascertain the views of other European powers, through their ambassadors in France, and to endeavor to obtain from them a recognition of the independence 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 purchased by him, in part with this money, and in part with such other means as he could command. By an arrangement with Mr. Deane, he shipped these articles to the United States, and Congress was to pay for them by remitting 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 gunpowder. 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 commissioners also agreed to furnish five thousand hogsheads of to bacco, 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 from the British ambassador. Efforts 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 Washington, 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 impossible to gratify and disagreeable to refuse. It was in vain that he assured them that he had no power to engage officers, that the army was already full, that his recommendation could not create vacancies, and that they would inevitably be disappointed when they 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 ministers was divided on this subject. Count de Vergennes and Count Maurepas, the two principal ministers, were decidedly in favor of a war with England, and of bringing it on by uniting with the Americans. Some of the others, among whom was Turgot while he was in the cabinet, disapproved this policy, and the king himself came into it with reluctance. Moreover, the events of the campaign 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 termination 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 preceding year were more than retrieved. The capture of Burgoyne's army, and the good conduct of the forces 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 commissioners immediately communicated this intelligence to the French court. Two days afterwards, M. Gerard, the secretary of the King's Council, called on Dr. Franklin at Passy, and said he had come, by order of the Count de Vergennes and Count Maurepas, to congratulate the commissioners 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, 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 independence of the United States, and to enter into a treaty of amity 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 establishing it on principles of exact reciprocity, so that its continuance should be for the interest of both parties; that no advantage would 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 independence 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 compensation for the expense or damage he might sustain on that account. The only condition required by him would be 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 France and England. This stipulated 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 February, 1778. They were sent to America by a special messenger, and were immediately ratified by Congress. The event diffused joy throughout the country. Washington 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, independence 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 favorable in their conditions and so equitable in their principles was lauded to the skies; and we behold the spectacle of two millions of republicans becoming all at once the cordial friends and warm admirers of a monarch who sat on a throne erected by acts, sustained by a policy, and surrounded by institutions, which all true republicans regarded 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 misplaced, or their gratitude improperly bestowed. Every promise was fulfilled, and every pledge was redeemed.
On the 20th of March the American commissioners were introduced to the king at Versailles, 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 great 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, contributed 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 politeness 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 American 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 embroidered coats, and powdered and perfumed heads, of the courtiers of Versailles."
[The treaties thus entered into were considered equivalent to a declaration 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 England, but probably, to some extent, with the real object of entrapping the shrewd American and embroiling him with the French government. 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.]
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 1779 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 Savannah 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 Americans 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 was 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 engagements 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, forced their way with the bayonet, 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 expedition 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 Richard and the Serapis, which is of sufficient interest 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 Providence, 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 burn the shipping in the harbor of Whitehaven. This attempt proved unsuccessful. He afterwards attempted 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 Ranger 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 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 Cerf were fitted for war, set sail from L'Orient on June 19, 1779. The name of the Duras had previously been changed to the Bon Homme Richard, 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 off Flamborough 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 compelled 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 Richard, however, stood steadily on, and about half-past seven she came up with the Serapis, the Scarborough being a shot distance to leeward. The American ship was to windward, and, as she drew slowly near, Captain Pearson hailed. The 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 reduced the broadside of the Richard 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 distributed 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 hopes, after this accident, rested on the twelve-pounders that were under the command of his first lieutenant.
The Richard, having backed her topsails, exchanged several broadsides, when she filled again and shot ahead of the Serapis, which ship luffed 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 Richard 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 or two, at a great distance, with the Alliance, and shortly afterwards was engaged at close quarters by the Pallas, which ship compelled him to strike, after a creditable resistance 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 Richard, 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 adversary, 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 manoeuvres, 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 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 Commodore 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 Commodore Jones, with his own hands, immediately lashed the enemy's head-gear to his mizzen-mast. The pressure on the after-sails of the Serapis, which vessel was nearly before 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 advantage 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 Richard would drift clear of him. But such an expectation was perfectly futile, as the yards were interlocked, the hulls were pressed close against each other, there were lashings fore and aft, and even the ornamental work aided in holding the ships together. When the cable of the Serapis took the strain, the vessels slowly tended, with the bows of the Serapis and the stern of the Richard to the tide. At this instant 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 opposite 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 effect, the heavy metal of the Serapis, in one or two discharges, cleared all before it, and the main-deck guns of the Richard 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, Commodore 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 drive nearly every man off that was not shot down.
Thus, while the English had the battle nearly to themselves below, their enemies had the control above the upper deck. Having cleared the tops of the Serapis, some American seamen lay out on the Richard's main-yard, 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 extreme end of the yard, whence, provided with a bucket filled with combustibles, and a match, he dropped the grenades with so much precision 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 lying 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 wristbands 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.
This advantage thus obtained, by the coolness and intrepidity 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 same degree that it encouraged the crew of the Richard 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 Alliance stood off and on, as if in doubt how or where to be of service. She finally approached the Richard 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 Richard by this discharge. The Alliance, after some further ineffectual efforts to aid her consort, stood off, and took no part in the remainder of the fight.]
The fire of the Alliance added greatly to the leaks of the Richard, 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 Richard were under her larboard bow and larboard counter, in places where they could not have been received from the Serapis. This evidence, however, is not unanswerable, as it has been seen that the Serapis luffed up on the larboard quarter of the Richard in the commencement of the action, and, forging ahead, was subsequently on her larboad bow, endeavoring to cross her fore-foot. It is certainly possible that shot may have struck the Richard in the places mentioned, on these occasions, and that, as the ship settled in the water from other leaks, the holes then made may have suddenly increased 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 very 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 here 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 decide 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 occupied with the liberated prisoners, and believing the master, the only other superior he had in the ship, to be dead, he ran up on the poop to haul down the colors. Fortunately, the flag-staff had been shot away, and, the ensign 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 supposed 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 be 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 keeping 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 victory. 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 general, to lessen. About an hour after the explosion, or between 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 Richard'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 Richard, 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 fire having entirely ceased. Mr. Dale now gave the English officer to understand that he was mistaken in the position of things, the Serapis having struck to the Richard, and not the Richard to the Serapis. Captain Pearson confirming this account, his subordinate acquiesced, 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 Richard. The firing was then stopped below. Mr. Dale had been closely followed to the quarter-deck of the Serapis by Mr. Mayrant, a midshipman, 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 shed and shots fired while the boarding officer was in amicable discourse with his prisoners.
[After the surrender the Richard 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 Richard 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 extra-ordinary sea-fight on record, and one which has given to the name of Paul Jones an imperishable fame.]
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 results anticipated, the two years' operations of the French fleet having proved nearly useless to the Americans. The army was low in numbers, 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 Colonel Tarleton cut to pieces a body of four hundred Americans who were retreating towards North Carolina. The province seeming reduced to tranquillity, Clinton left Lord Cornwallis in command, and returned to New York with a large body of his troops.
Yet the people were not so tranquil as they seemed. Bold guerillabands 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 Cornwallis 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 Sumter's corps was soon after surprised 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, discontented, constantly 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 Philadelphia 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 surprise 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 difficult and dangerous to regain the Vulture, Andre was obliged to attempt a return by land. The events which succeeded we select from Spark's "Life and Treason of Benedict Arnold."]
HAVING no means of getting to the vessel, Andre was compelled to seek his way back by 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 way 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 situation, 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 feared that if he was discovered in the uniform of a British officer he might be stopped, and perhaps meet with trouble. And here again Smith was made the dupe of Arnold's artifices. When he expressed 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 journey.
A little before sunset he and Smith set off, accompanied by a negro servant belonging to the latter. They proceeded to King's Ferry, and crossed the river from Stony Point to Verplanck'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 unconcern. He even stopped at a sutler's tent near the ferry, and contributed to the merriment of a party 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 conversation 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 party, led by Captain Boyd, who proved so inquisitive as to give them much annoyance. He was anxious to learn from Smith the "important business" that brought them out, warned them that the Cowboys 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 narrow, 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 compensation 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 cheerfulness 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 extraordinary 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 literature, 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 Bridge.
[At this place Smith decided that he would go no farther. 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 returned 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 Skinners, 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 young men had stationed themselves in ambush on this road, with the object of intercepting suspicious persons, or droves of cattle, that might be seen passing 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 covered 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 without 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, written 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 circumstance must have been fresh in the recollection of his captors, it may be regarded as exhibiting a greater exactness in its details than any account hitherto published. In answer to the question of the court, Paulding said,
"Myself, Isaac Van Wart, and David Williams were lying by the side of the road about half a mile above Tarrytown, and about fifteen miles above Kingsbridge, on Saturday morning, between nine and ten o'clock, the 23d of September. 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 presented 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 he said, `I am a British officer out of the country on particular business, and I hope you will not detain me a minute;' and to show that he was a British 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 Arnold's pass, which was to John Anderson, to pass all guards to White Plains and below. Upon that he dismounted. Said he, `Gentlemen, you had best let me go, or you will bring yourselves into trouble, for your stopping 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 anything from him; and I told him there were many 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 himself 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 officer, and not that he meant to offer it to him as a present.
All these particulars were substantially confirmed by David Williams, whose testimony in regard to the searching of Andre, being more minute than Paulding's, is here inserted.
"We took him into the bushes," said Williams, "and ordered 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 there 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 could get them. I asked him whether he would 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 thousand 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 answered, `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 bodycoat, 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 waistcoat 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, they found 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 by Lieutenant Allen, and it contained the first intelligence received by Arnold of the capture of Andre. His emotion can be more easily imagined 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, yet not to such a degree 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 Washington, when he arrived, that he was unexpectedly called over the river and should very soon return. 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 part, perhaps to meet no more, and that his life depended on his reaching the enemy's lines without 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 horse 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 knowledge of Arnold's intentions, promptly obeyed his orders. He quickened their activity by saying that he was going down the river and on board the Vulture with a flag, and that he was in great haste, as he expected General Washington 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 Vulture, 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 Verplanck's Point, caused Colonel Livingston to regard it as a flagboat, and prevented him from ordering it to be stopped and examined.
The boat reached the Vulture unobstructed in its passage; 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 capacity and spirit, said they were not prisoners, that they came on board with 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 remain 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 parole, 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 Clinton, holding in just contempt such a wanton act of meanness, set them all at liberty.
[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 sympathy 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.]
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 government 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 extensive 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 grievances. British agents sought to entice them into service under Clinton, 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. Robert Morris, a wealthy Philadelphia 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 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 Lafayette 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 Rhode Island, and Arnold, reinforced, continued his destructive inroads.
In South Carolina a new and able general had been placed in command 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 Carolina, 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 enterprising, and had distinguished himself by an adventurous spirit which was in perfect harmony with that of his commander. 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 enemy. The order to push Morgan to the utmost was very welcome to him, for he was stronger than the American general by discipline, equipments, and numbers,- his whole force somewhat exceeding eleven hundred men, inclusive of a detachment from the Royal Artillery, with two pieces.
[Morgan, who had carefully watched the movements of his adversary, 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 country, with a river in his rear, he calmly answered, "I would not have had a swamp in view of my militia on any consideration; 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 completely formed. But all that Morgan asked of his skirmishers 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, waiting calmly until the enemy was within one hundred yards, poured in a deadly fire. The English wavered and slackened 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 Camden?
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 compact 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 reserve. At this moment Washington [Colonel William] was seen driving before him that part of the 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. Howard saw at a glance that he could still count upon his men; for, supposing that they had been directed to fall back to a new position, they moved as calmly as they would have moved on parade. Instead, therefore, of correcting 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?"
"Right! 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 English 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 bayonet," 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 ominous cry began to be heard, and "Tarleton's quarters!" passed with bitter emphasis from mouth to mouth. But 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 hundred 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 morning. 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 continued 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 American cause.
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 energetic effort, Cornwallis 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 came 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 step, were soon ranged in line of battle.
For a moment Greene hoped they would not be permitted to cross the open field unbroken, and every ear was listening eagerly for the sound of the North 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, 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, commanded, in vain. Lee, spurring in among them, threatened to charge them with his cavalry unless they turned again upon the enemy. All was useless; terror had overmastered 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 Carolinians, they saw the enemy advance, and, as he came within aiming-distance, opened upon him with the coolness of veterans and the precision of practised marksmen. Symptoms of disorder began to appear in the British ranks, and soon their line became seriously deranged. But still discipline held them 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 everything seemed to promise Greene a sure victory. Cheered 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 Gunby's Marylanders. Here for the first time discipline was opposed to 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 commanded the field, the fate of the day would have been decided. But these were his only veterans, and the occurrences 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 Regiment 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 Royal 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 day, the British army. From a small eminence on the skirt of the wood his artillery 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," replied Cornwallis; "but it is a necessary evil, which we must endure to avert impending destruction."
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 power. The shattered and disheartened troops were collected 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 without quickening his pace, he rode slowly 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 suffered severely. If he had not conquered, 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 forward again, he returned to his old encampment at the ironworks 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 retired to Wilmington, while Greene advanced into South Carolina.]
ABIEL HOLMES.
[Cornwallis having led his army to Wilmington, with the purpose of invading Virginia, General Greene boldly returned to South Carolina, and encamped on Hobkirk's Hill, a mile only from Lord Rawdon's post at Camden. Here he was attacked on April 25, and, after nearly winning a victory, was defeated through the flight of a Maryland regiment, whose panic communicated itself to the army. Yet the losses on both sides differed but little, and Lord Rawdon 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 operations for the summer. On the 8th of September, Colonel Stewart, who had succeeded Lord Rawdon 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 Carolinas, 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 country, and enforced the acknowledgment 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 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 forming a junction with Major-General Phillips, was now at the head of a very powerful army. The defensive operations in opposition to this hostile force were principally intrusted to the Marquis de la Fayette. The marquis advanced to Richmond; 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 River, which he crossed at Westtown, and, marching through Hanover County, crossed Pamunkey River. 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 veteran commander. In the course of these marches and countermarches, immense quantities of property were destroyed 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 Road as a station for line-of-battle ships, 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 principal object of the campaign, and Portsmouth and Hampton Road having been pronounced unfit for that purpose, Portsmouth was evacuated, and the British troops, amounting to seven thousand men, were transferred to Yorktown. 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 River 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, commanded by the Marquis de St. Simon, were disembarked, and soon after formed a junction with the Continental troops under 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 Lord 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 admirals were manoeuvring near the mouth of the Chesapeake, Count de Barras, with a French fleet of eight line-of-battle ships from Rhode 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. Admiral 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 operations, 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 Rochambeau and the Chevalier Chastellux on the part of the French, in an interview at Wethersfield. The project was to lay siege to New York in concert with a French fleet, which was to arrive on the coast in the month of August. In prosecution of this plan, the Northern States were called on to fill up their battalions, and to have their quotas of militia in readiness on a week's notice. The French troops marched from Rhode 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 River, 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 commence operations against New York. Flat-bottomed boats sufficient to transport five thousand men were built near Albany, and brought down Hudson's River to the neighborhood 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 induced to make a total change of the plan of the campaign. The tardiness of the States in filling up their battalions and embodying 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 intelligence 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 committed the defence of the posts on Hudson's River to Major-General Health, and proceeded on the grand enterprise. While, with consummate address, he kept up the appearance of an intention to attack New York, the allied army, amounting collectively to twelve thousand men, crossed the North River, and passed on by the way of Philadelphia to Yorktown. General Washington and Count Rochambeau reached Williamsburg on the 14th of September, and, with Generals Chastellux, Du Portail, and Knox, visited 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 commanded 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 detachment 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 evening the troops halted about two miles from York, and lay all night on their arms. Causeways having been constructed in the night over a morass in front of the British works, the Continental infantry marched the next morning in columns to the right of the combined forces. A few cannon-shot were fired from the British work on the Hampton 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 Cornwallis, giving him assurance that joint exertions of the army and navy would be made for his relief. To this letter is attributed an order for the British troops to quite the outward and retire to the inner position; in compliance with which, that movement was effected before day-break. The next morning, Colonel Scammell with a reconnoitring 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 Americans 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 by storm. The reduction of one redoubt was committed to the French; of the other, to the Americans. The Marquis de la Fayette commanded the American detachment of light infantry, against the redoubt on the extreme left of the British works; and the Baron de Viomenil led the French grenadiers and chasseurs against the other, which was farther towards the British right, and nearer the French lines. On the evening of the 14th the two detachments 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 intercept their retreat. The troops rushed to the assault with unloaded arms, and in a few minutes carried the redoubt, with inconsiderable loss. The French were also successful. The redoubt assigned to them was soon carried, but 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 from the garrison by a party of three hundred and fifty, commanded by Lieutenant-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 Cornwallis 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 infantry 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, Pennsylvania, 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 General Washington, requested that there might be a cessation of hostilities for twenty-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 granted a suspension of hostilities for two hours. The general proposition 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, surrendered 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 soldiers, accompanied by a due proportion of officers, were to remain in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania; and 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 surrender of Charleston.
[The army and officers, and particularly the artillerists and engineers, 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 Rochambeau 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 joyful 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 performed 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 with a serious deportment, and that sensibility of heart which the recollection of the surprising and particular interposition 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 crowing the allied arms with success, and issued a proclamation appointing the 13th day of December "as a day of general thanksgiving and prayer, on account of this signal interposition of Divine Providence."
[Although some minor hostilities continued, the surrender of Cornwallis virtually ended the war, which now grew strongly unpopular in England. Commissioners for negotiating peace were soon after appointed. On the part of the United States these were 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 September 3. The British had been compelled to evacuate Savannah and Charleston during 1782, and on the 25th 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.]
JOHN MARSHALL.
[The close of the Revolutionary 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 desperate and dangerous mood. The only man who possessed any controlling 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 Philadelphia, 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 the war, and the sentiment in Parliament 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 operations 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 commissioners 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 contributions 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 government vitally apparent. By the month of August only eighty thousand dollars had been received from all the States, a sum barely sufficient for the subsistence of the army. To pay the troops was impossible, and nearly every other debt remained unpaid. The events which succeeded 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 Secretary 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 result 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 ingratitude of the public; involved in debts, without one farthing of money to carry them home, after having spent the flower of their days, and, many of them, their patrimonies, in establishing the freedom and independence of their country, and having suffered everything which human nature is capable of enduring on this side of death. I 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 upon 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 dissipated) 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 Congress. This legislative hostility increased the irritation of the officers. In October the army went into winter-quarters. Washington remained 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, produced 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 unrewarded service could not look with unconcern at the prospect which was opening to them. In December, soon after going into winter- quarters, they presented a petition to Congress, respecting the money actually due them, and the commutation of the half-pay stipulated by the resolution of October, 1780, for a sum in gross, which they flattered themselves would be less objectionable than the half-pay establishment.
[There was a strong party in Congress jealous of an 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 interesting 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 Great 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 delicacy from advocating their interests with that zeal which his feelings and knowledge of their situation had inspired. Early in March a letter was received from their committee in Philadelphia, showing that the objects they solicited had not been obtained. On the 10th of that month an anonymous paper was circulated, 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 passions of the moment and to conduct them to the most desperate resolutions..
Persuaded as the officers in general were of the indisposition 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 communicate 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 calculated 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 advisable to guide than to discountenance their deliberations on that interesting subject.
[Washington's efforts in this direction proved successful. Though the anonymous 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 communication resolution.]
The treaty between the United States and Great Britain being eventual, it furnished no security against a continuance 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 were immediately 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 ratifications 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 unsecured, large arrears of pay were due to them, the immediate 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 required, the payments made into the public treasury under that requisition had amounted to only four hundred and twenty thousand and thirty-one dollars and twenty-nine ninetieths, and the foreign loans had not been sufficient 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 dollars 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 supposed that the authorities were seeking to get rid of them without paying them, and Washington's persuasions and 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 considerable 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 belonging to the State of Pennsylvania were stationed at Lancaster. Revolting against the authority of their officers, 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 quartered in the barracks, so as to amount to about three hundred men. They then marched in military parade, 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 particularly against Congress, the government of the Union was grossly insulted, and those who administered it were blockaded for several hours by an insolent and licentious soldiery. 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 outrage, the commander-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 authority 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 Philadelphia, the disturbances were in a great degree quieted without bloodshed; but Major-General Howe was ordered by Congress to continue his march into Pennsylvania, "in order that immediate measures might be taken to confine and bring to trial all such persons 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 American army took possession of that town.
The guards being posted for the security of the citizens, General Washington, accompanied by Governor 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 received 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 beloved 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 affectionate 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 countenances, testifying 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, 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 interesting 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 remained seated and covered. The spectators were standing and uncovered. The general was introduced by the secretary, 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 communications." With a native dignity improved by the solemnity of the occasion, the general rose and delivered the following address:
"MR. PRESIDENT,-
"The great events on which my resignation depended having at length taken place, I have now the honor of offering my sincere congratulations to Congress, and of presenting myself before them, to surrender into their hands the trust committed to me, and to claim the indulgence of retiring from the service of my country.
"Happy in the confirmation of our independence and sovereignty, and pleased with the opportunity afforded the United States of becoming a respectable nation, I resign with satisfaction the appointment I accepted with diffidence,a diffidence in my abilities to accomplish so arduous a task, which, however, was superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of our cause, the support of the supreme power of the Union, and the patronage of heaven.
"The successful termination of the war has verified the most sanguine expectations; and my gratitude for the interposition of Providence, and the assistance I have received from my countrymen, 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 feelings not to acknowledge 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 particular 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 affectionate farewell to this august 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 Caesar, Cromwell, and other military heroes, who 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 was 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 creditors. In consequence of the disorganized condition of affairs, and the general distress, a serious insurrection, known as "Shays' Rebellion," broke out in Massachusetts, which it took a military force of several thousand men to suppress. It was becoming increasingly evident 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.]
RICHARD FROTHINGHAM.
[The Articles of Confederation of the United States of America were finally ratified on the Ist of March, 1781, and announced to the public amid discharges of cannon on land and from the vessels in the Delaware, conspicuous among which was the Ariel frigate, Paul Jones commanding. Yet the Articles were scarcely confirmed, amid panegyrics 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,particularly 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 consulting 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 arbitrating 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, consequently, 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 relations 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 government were Hamilton and Madison. These two men, both of them of unusual intellectual ability and thorough education in statesmanship, radically differed in views. Hamilton supported the aristocratic sentiment, 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 objected to giving Congress the power to regulate commerce. Madison proposed to give Congress authority to veto State laws. He was also the first to propose a government for the Union acting upon individuals 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 "Rise of the Republic 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 crown. 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 Hamilton in 1780; by Pelatiah Webster in 1781; by the New York legislature in 1782; was named in Congress by Hamilton in 1783; was proposed by Richard Henry Lee in a letter in 1784; and was recommended by Governor Bowdoin in a speech to the Massachusetts legislature in 1785. No action, however, grew out of these suggestions. In 1786, the Assembly of Virginia, under the lead of Madison, appointed commissioners to meet in convention and consider the question of commerce, with the view of altering 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 II, 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 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 Congress, 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' Rebellion" in Massachusetts, 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 subdued 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 appointed commissioners to the projected convention. Other States quickly followed, all the States electing delegates except Rhode Island.]
The delegates elect were summoned to meet in Philadelphia on the fourteenth day of May [1787], in Independence 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, should appoint the governor of each State, who should have a negative on the laws to be passed by the legislature. 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 resolutions 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 legislature, judiciary, and executive."
This determination to frame a new government brought face to face in the Convention the antagonisms of American 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 representation, 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 Northern and Southern;" and he went on to show how certain arrangements "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 dissolution, scarce held together by the strength of a hair;" and this is confirmed by a letter from Washington, who said that he almost despaired of seeing a favorable issue to the proceedings, and therefore repented of having had any agency in the business.
During this period Franklin made his well-known impressive 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 artist 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 years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three-fifths of all other persons, and giving to each State one representative 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 advocates of the old Articles made it their chief point to preserve 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 profound 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 people might be unsettled on some points, yet it was settled in attachment to republican government." Local self- government, union, and republicanism 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 23rd of July it was determined 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 committee 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 credit 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 occupied 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 parts of this Constitution which I do not at present approve; but I am not sure I shall never approve them. For, having 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 general 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 Constitution 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 persons. 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 expressing his wish that the alteration proposed might take place. It was much to be desired that the objections to the plan 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 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 appeal 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 aye. There was then a debate on signing. Hamilton 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 Randolph and George Mason, of Virginia, and Elbridge Gerry, of Massachusetts. While the last members 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 session, and the vicissitudes of my hopes 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 September, in the year of our Lord 1787, and of the Independence 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, Congress 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 welcomed by farmers, mechanics, and merchants. Soon, however, 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 Clinton and Patrick Henry.
The conflict of opinion was carried on in public meetings, through the press, and in the representative assemblies, 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 Wilson made 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 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 Confederation; 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 comment of Madison, "if they were abolished, the General Government would be compelled, by the principle of self- preservation, to reinstate them in their proper jurisdiction."
The spheres of the two governments, State and National, were defined with much exactness; but, to determine controversies 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 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 pursuance 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 contrary 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 by three-fourths of the several States, or by conventions of three-fourths of the 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 peculiar 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 had 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 establishment of this Constitution between the States so ratifying the same."
On the 2d of July, 1788, the President of Congress informed that body that he had laid before them the ratification of the Constitution by the conventions of nine States. On that day a committee was appointed to report an act "for putting the said Constitution into operation." It was not, however, until the 13th of September that Congress agreed upon a plan. . The first Wednesday in March [1789] was fixed on as the time, and New York as the place, for commencing proceedings under the Constitution.
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 proportions. Seven years before, a revolt in Massachusetts against the payment 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 authority. 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 Republic of the United States of America, as traced in the writings of Alexander Hamilton," from which valuable work we extract a brief account of the event.
Efforts 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 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 marshal 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 commandants 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 garrison 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 insurgents, 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 proceed 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 Virginia was called for the fourteenth of August at Parkinson's Ferry, to concert measures suited to the occasion.
The period had at last certainly arrived 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 Mifflin, 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 volunteered 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 COUNTRY to render their personal services with as many volunteers as they could raise, to rendezvous at Braddock's Field 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 ultimate design, the establishment of a tramontane STATE, separate from and independent of the Union. .
In order to reach Braddock's Field, the militia of Washington 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 bound with kerchiefs, the dress they wore in their conflicts with the Indians, which kept up, in this hardy frontier population, a temper little less than savage.
Bradford stood on the bank, reviewing these battalions as they crossed. In one circle the party who had burned the inspector's house were seen, each with his rifle, venting their rage against its defenders, deploring the death of their leader, threatening the commandant of Fort Fayette 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. Officers were now appointed,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 Pittsburg, a noisy follower rode through the town, with up-raised tomahawk, threatening the friends of order. The insurgents paused at the moment of danger; and, after a short parley, the larger number, dissuaded from their purpose, recrossed the river, leaving a few of the more determined, who, in detached parties, fired, during the night, the habitations 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 government were at hand. This produced an instant change in the courage 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 proffered terms. The angered, earnest, misled population, still believing, as they had been taught by their leaders, that the excise laws were unconstitutional and oppressive, were ready 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 trembling 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 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 alternative remained but the advance of the armed force. This Washington 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 service. The militia of Maryland and Virginia, in which States attempts were 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 declared their submission to the authorities, and passed pacific resolutions.]
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 multitude. Loud greetings followed, and at night an illumination blazed through the town. At this place, so changed in the direction of its feelings, Findley and Reddick [two of the submissive insurgent leaders] now arrived. Fearing 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 they waited on the President. Overawed by his cold, calm, majestic bearing, they presented the submissive resolutions, 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 artillery, as a park, in the centre, where the cavalry, "who, though dangerous in the light, are 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 Hamilton. Owing to recent heavy rains, the progress of the army had become "extremely 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 advancing troops, awed into silence by the dreary solitudes,a silence only broken by the sudden cries of returning 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 hardships. 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 military rank, he was seen day after day mingling with the men, studying 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. Approaching, 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 insurgents was deterred by various detachments, who seized the leaders and brought in numerous prisoners.
[These decided measures put a stop to the insurrection. The insurgents, 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.
During the latter part of the march he had been constantly engaged, obtaining intelligence of the insurgents, receiving the submissions of those who had not fled, restraining 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 result 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 support.
[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 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.]
JOHN S. C. ABBOTT.
[While the events of the Revolutionary 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 desirable. The colonists of America had dispossessed the original tenants of the soil from the Atlantic region, or reduced them to a state of hopeless 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 warlike, 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 Pennsylvania 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 territory, and not till they had defeated 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 settlers, 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 interesting phase at the period when the seaboard colonists were first taking arms against British aggression. Its consequences, however, reached far 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 Alleghanies and entered this unknown land. It was no easy enterprise. There was a mountain-region nearly fifty miles in width to cross, traversed by parallel ridges, all rugged, and some almost impassable. Yet the beautiful and fertile expanse which they beheld from the western slope repaid the hardy pioneers for their toil, and for months they wandered in this new Eden, which was full of game, and pleasantly salubrious 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 Northern, 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 succeeding were numerous and exciting. He acquired the reputation of a mighty hunter, became dreaded by the Indians, and, though on several occasions taken prisoner, always managed to escape from their hands. During this interval the Indian war known as Lord Dunmore's War broke 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 followed by a more rapid inflow of settlers into the region which he had explored, 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 location. Lurking Indians waited to cut off 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 by savages. Boone rapidly pursued, and succeeded in surprising the captors and rescuing their prisoners. The story of the adventures of these pioneers is full of thrilling incidents, and their life was one of hairbreadth escapes. Finally Boone was taken prisoner, while out with a party making salt at the Salt Lick Springs. As the Indians were not resisted, the captives were well treated, taken to Detroit, and all ransomed 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 consisted in the plucking out of all the hairs of the head, with the exception of the scalp-lock tuft, of three or four inches' diameter. Yet the shrewd and politic captive bore all these inflictions with equanimity, and managed to appear perfectly content with his lot. The exciting events which succeeded we give from Abbott's "Daniel Boone, the Pioneer of Kentucky."]
COLONEL BOONE, having passed through this transformation, 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 distinguished from any of his Indian associates. His wary captors, however,. habitually, but without a remark suggestive of any suspicions, adopted precautions to prevent his escape. So skilful a hunter as Boone could, with his rifle and a supply of ammunition, traverse 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 springs to aid them in making 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 supply of salt to the Little Miami. Here 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 Boonsborough. In that fort were his wife and children. Its capture would probably insure their slaughter. He was aware that the fort was not sufficiently guarded by its present inmates, and that, unapprehensive of impending danger, they were 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 surprise of the fort. Indeed, to disarm suspicion 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 redouble their vigilance as to render escape utterly 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 enterprise in which they were engaged, remitted their ordinary vigilance.
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 starvation during his flight of five days through the pathless wilderness. There was a distance of one hundred and sixty miles between Old Chillicothe and Boonsborough. The moment his flight should be suspected, four hundred and fifty Indian warriors, breathing vengeance, and in perfect 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 God seemed to inspire him. He was forty-three years of age. In the knowledge of woodcraft, and in powers of endurance, no Indian surpassed him. Though he would be pursued by sagacious and veteran warriors and by young Indian braves, a pack of four hundred and fifty savages following, with keener scent than that of the bloodhound, one poor victim, yet undismayed he entered upon the appalling enterprise. The history of the world perhaps presents but few feats so difficult and yet so successfully performed.
It was necessary, as soon as Boone got out of sight of the village, to fly with the utmost speed, to put as great a distance as possible between himself and his pursuers before they should suspect his attempt at escape. He subsequently learned that as soon as the Indians apprehended that he had actually fled, there was the most intense commotion in their camp, and immediately a large number of their fleetest runners and keenest hunters were put upon his trail. He dared not fire a gun. Had he killed any game he could not have ventured to kindle a fire to cook it. He had secretly provided himself with a few cuts of dried venison with which he could appease his hunger as he pressed forward by day and by night, scarcely allowing himself one moment for rest or sleep. His route lay through forests and swamps, and across many streams swollen by recent rains.
At length he reached the Ohio River. Its current was swift and turbid, rolling in a majestic flood half a mile in width, filling the bed of the stream with almost fathomless waters from shore to shore. Experienced as Colonel Boone was in wood-craft, he was not a skilful swimmer. The thought of how he should cross the Ohio had caused him much anxiety. Upon reaching its banks he fortunately may we not say providentially?found an old canoe which had drifted among the bushes upon the shore. There was a large hole at one end, and it was nearly filled with water. He succeeded in baling out the water and plugging up the hole, and crossed the river in safety. Then for the first time he so far indulged in a feeling of security as to venture to shoot a turkey, and, kindling a fire, he feasted abundantly upon the rich repast. It was the only meal in which he had indulged during his flight of five days.
[On reaching the fort they looked upon him as a dead man come to life. His wife and children, believing him dead, had returned to North Carolina. He found the fort in a bad condition, and at once brought all his energy and experience to work to put it in a proper state of defence. This done, he determined to strike terror into his Indian foes, and on the 1st of August led a party of nineteen men across the Ohio. They met and routed a body of thirty savages near the Indian town of Paint Creek.]
Boone sent forward some swift runners as spies, and they speedily returned with the report that the Indians in a panic had entirely abandoned Paint Creek. Aware that the warriors would rush to join the four hundred and fifty from Old Chillicothe, and that they might cut off his retreat, or reach Boonsborough before his return, he immediately commenced a rapid movement back to the fort. Every man would be needed there for an obstinate defence. This foray had extended one hundred and fifty miles from the fort. It greatly alarmed the Indians. It emboldened the hearts of the garrison, and gave them intelligence of the approach of their foes. After an absence of but seven days, Boone with his heroic little band quite triumphantly re-entered the fort.
[The Indian army, four hundred and forty-four in number, arrived on August 8, commanded by Captain Duquesne, eleven other Frenchmen, and some of their own chiefs, with British and French colors flying. The fort was summoned to surrender in the name of his Britannic majesty. Boone asked and was granted two days to consider. He employed the interval to prepare for an obstinate defence. He then returned the answer that "we are determined to defend our fort while a man is living."]
There were but fifty men in the garrison at Boonsborough. They were assailed by a body of more than ten to one of the bravest Indian warriors, under the command of an officer in the British army. The boldest in the fort felt that their situation was almost desperate. The ferocity of the Indian and the intelligence of the white man were combined against them. They knew that the British commander, however humane he might be, would have no power, should the fort be taken by storm, to save them from death by the most horrible tortures.
[It was now declared by Duquesne that his orders were to take them captive and not destroy them, and if nine of them would come out and treat with him he would withdraw his forces and peacefully retire. Boone accepted this proposition.]
But, better acquainted with the Indian character than perhaps Duquesne could have been, he selected nine of the most athletic and strong of the garrison, and appointed the place of meeting in front of the fort, at a distance of only one hundred and twenty feet from the walls. The riflemen of the garrison were placed in a position to cover the spot with their guns, so that in case of treachery the Indians would meet with instant punishment, and the retreat of the party from the fort would probably be secured.
[Duquesne proposed highly liberal terms. But Boone well knew that the Indians would not assent to these terms. During the conference the savages had drawn near, and now Blackfish, Boone's adopted father, professed entire amity, and proposed that they should conclude the treaty in what he asserted was the Indian manner, by each white man shaking hands with two Indians.]
This shallow pretence, scarcely up to the sagacity of children, by which Blackfish hoped that two savages grapling each one of the commissioners would easily be able to make prisoners of them, and then by threats of torture compel the surrender of the fort, did not in the slightest degree deceive Colonel Boone. He was well aware of his own strength and of that of the men who accompanied him. He also knew that his riflemen occupied concealed positions, from which, with unerring aim, they could instantly punish the savages for any act of treachery. He therefore consented to the arrangement. The grasp was given. Instantly a terrible scene of confusion ensued.
The burly savages tried to drag off their victims. The surrounding Indians rushed in to their aid, and a deadly fire was opened upon them from the fort, which was energetically responded to by all the armed savages from behind stumps and trees. One of the fiercest of battles had instantly blazed forth. Still these stalwart pioneers were not taken by surprise. Aided by the bullets of the fort, they shook off their assailants, and all succeeded in escaping within the heavy gates, which were immediately closed behind them. One only of their number, Boone's brother, was wounded. This escape seems almost miraculous. But the majority of the Indians in intelligence were mere children; sometimes very cunning, but often with the grossest stupidity mingled with their strategy.
Duquesne and Blackfish, the associated leaders, now commenced the siege of the fort with all their energies. Dividing their forces into two parties, they kept up an incessant fire upon the garrison for nine days and nine nights. It was one of the most heroic of those bloody struggles between civilization and barbarism which have rendered the plains of Kentucky memorable.
The savages were very careful not to expose themselves to the rifles of the besieged. They were stationed behind rocks and trees and stumps, so that it was seldom that the garrison could catch even a glimpse of the foes who were assailing them. It was necessary for those within the fort to be sparing of their ammunition. They seldom fired unless they could take deliberate aim, and then the bullet was almost sure to reach its mark. Colonel Boone, in describing this attempt of the Indians to capture the commissioners by stratagem, and the storm of war which followed, writes:
"They immediately grappled us, but, although surrounded by hundreds of savages, we extricated ourselves from them and escaped all safe into the garrison except one, who was wounded, through a heavy fire from their army. They immediately attacked us on every side, and a constant heavy fire ensued between us, day and night, for the space of nine days. In this time the enemy began to undermine our fort, which was situated about sixty yards from the Kentucky River. They began at the water-mark and proceeded in the bank some distance, which we understood by their making the water muddy with the clay. We immediately proceeded to disappoint their design by cutting a trench across their subterranean passage. The enemy, discovering our countermine by the clay we threw out of the fort, desisted from that stratagem. Experience now fully convincing them that neither their power nor their policy could effect their purpose, on the twentieth of August they raised the siege and departed.
"During this siege, which threatened death in every form, we had two men killed and four wounded, besides a number of cattle. We killed of the enemy thirty- seven, and wounded a great number. After they were gone we picked up one hundred and twenty-five pounds' weight of bullets, besides what stuck in the logs of our fort, which certainly is a great proof of their industry."
It is said that during this siege one of the negroes, probably a slave, deserted from the fort with one of their best rifles, and joined the Indians. Concealing himself in a tree, where unseen he could take deliberate aim, he became one of the most successful of the assailants. But the eagle eye of Boone detected him, and though, as was afterwards ascertained by actual measurement, the tree was five hundred and twenty-five feet distant from the fort, Boone took deliberate aim, fired, and the man was seen to drop heavily from his covert to the ground. The bullet from Boone's rifle had pierced his brain.
At one time the Indians had succeeded in setting fire to the fort, by throwing flaming combustibles upon it, attached to their arrows. One of the young men extinguished the flames, exposing himself to the concentrated and deadly fire of the assailants in doing so. Though the bullets fell like hailstones around him, the brave fellow escaped unscathed.
[The Indians never again assailed the fort. From that time forward the settlements in Kentucky rapidly increased, the Revolutionary War driving many settlers West. There were other troubles with the savages, but the dominion of the white man in the trans-Alleghany region was assured, and the aborigines had lost their hold upon the land of their forefathers.]
JAMES STEWARD.
[The settlement of the valley of the Ohio, and of the adjacent regions north and south, steadily continued in the period succeeding the Revolution, the hardy frontiersmen pushing back the aborigines step by step, and daring all the terrors of savage reprisal in their unflinching advance. The assault on the fort at Boonsborough was succeeded by other actions, in several of which the Indians were victorious. On August 18, 1782, the whites suffered a bloody repulse at a point on the Licking River near the Blue Licks. Boone took part in this battle. Soon after, General Clark defeated the victorious savages, and burned their towns. From this time till 1790 the Indians continued hostile, and committed such ravages that General Harmer was sent, in the latter year, to punish them. The result was disastrous. Two actions took place, in both of which he was defeated, with severe loss in killed and wounded. Of the succeeding events we select a description from Steward's "History of America," more generally known, from an edition of it having been published by Henry Trumbull, as Trumbull's "History of the Indian Wars."]
IN the fall of 1791, General St. Clair took command of the Western army, and marched against the Indians, who had assembled in great force on the Miami River. He met with a total defeat. The particulars of the fight, which was very sanguinary, will be given in his own words, which is taken from his letter to the Secretary of War:
"Yesterday, the remains of the army under my command got back to this place [Fort Washington]; and I have now the painful task to give an account of as warm and as unfortunate an action as almost any that has been fought, as every corps was engaged and worsted, except the First Regiment; this had been detached upon a service that I had the honor to inform you of in my last despatch, and had not joined me.
"On the 3d instant, the army had reached a creek about twelve yards wide, running to the southward of west, which I believed to have been the river St. Mary, that empties into the Miami of the lake; arrived at the village about four o'clock in the afternoon, having marched near nine miles, and were immediately encamped upon a very commanding piece of ground, in two lines, having the above- mentioned creek in front. The right wing, composed of Butler, Clark, and Patterson's battalions, commanded by Major-General Butler, formed the first line; and the left wing, consisting of Bedinger and Gaither's battalions, and the Second Regiment, commanded by Colonel Drake, formed the second line; with an interval between them of about seventy yards, which was all the ground would allow.
"The right flank was pretty well secured by the creek, a steep bank, and Faulkener's corps. Some of the cavalry, and their pickets, covered the left flank. The militia were sent over the creek, and advanced about a quarter of a mile, and encamped in the same order.
"There were a few Indians who appeared on the opposite side of the creek, but fled with the utmost precipitation on the advance of the militia. At this place, which I judged to be about fifteen miles from the Miami village, I had determined to throw up a slight work, the plan of which was concerted that evening with Major Ferguson, wherein to have deposited the men's knapascks, and everything else that was not of absolute necessity, and to have moved on to attack the enemy as soon as the First Regiment came up; but they did not permit me to execute either, for on the 4th, about half an hour before sunrise, and when the men had just been dismissed from parade (for it was a constant practice to have them all under arms a considerable time before daylight), an attack was made upon the militia, who gave way in a very little time, and rushed into camp through Major Butler's battalion, which, together with part of Clark's, they threw into considerable disorder, and which, notwithstanding the exertions of both these officers, was never altogether remedied. The Indians followed close at their heels; the fire, however, of the front line checked them, but almost instantaneously a very heavy attack began upon that line, and in a few minutes it was extended to the second likewise. The great weight of it was directed against the centre of each, where the artillery was placed, and from which the men were repeatedly driven with great slaughter. Finding no great effect from the fire, and a confusion beginning to spread from the great number of the men who were falling in all quarters, it became necessary to try what could be done with the bayonet.
"Lieutenant Drake was accordingly ordered to charge with a part of the second line, and to turn the left flank of the enemy. This was executed with great spirit, and at first promised much success. The Indians instantly gave way, and were driven back three or four hundred yards; but, for want of a sufficient number of riflemen to pursue this advantage, they soon returned, and the troops were obliged to give back in their turn. At this moment they had entered our camp by the left flank, having pursued the troops that were posted there.
"Another charge was made here by the Second Regiment, Butler and Clark's battalions, with equal effect, and it was repeated several times, and always with success; but in all of them many men were lost, and particularly the officers, which, among raw troops, was a loss altogether irremediable. In that I just spoke of, made by the Second Regiment and Butler's battalion, Major Butler was dangerously wounded, and every officer of the Second Regiment fell, except three, one of which, Captain Greaton, was shot through the body. Our artillery being now silenced, and all the officers killed, except Captain Ford, who was badly wounded, more than half of the army fallen, being cut off from the road, it became necessary to attempt the regaining it and to make a retreat if possible. To this purpose the remains of the army was formed, as well as circumstances would admit, towards the right of the encampment, from which, by the way of the second line, another charge was made upon the enemy, as if with the design to turn the right flank, but it was in fact to gain the road. This was effected, and as soon as it was opened the militia entered it, followed by the troops, Major Clark with his battalion covering the rear.
"The retreat in these circumstances was, as you may be sure, a precipitate one. It was, in fact, a flight. The camp and artillery were abandoned; but that was unavoidable, as not a horse was left alive to have drawn it off, had it otherwise been practicable. But the most disgraceful part of the business is that the greatest part of the men threw away their arms and accoutrements, even after the pursuit, which continued about four miles, had ceased.
"I found the road strewed with them for many miles, but was not able to remedy it, for, having had all my horses killed, and being mounted upon one that could not be pricked out of a walk, I could not get forward myself; and the orders I sent forward, either to halt the front or prevent the men from parting with their arms, were unattended to.
"The rout continued quite to Fort Jefferson, twenty-nine miles, which was reached a little after sunset. The action began half an hour before sunrise, and the retreat was attempted at half-past nine o'clock.". .
The defeat of General St. Clair took place within three miles of the Miami village. The loss on this occasion was about six hundred killed and wounded (said to be nearly equal to Braddock's defeat), with seven pieces of artillery and all the stores. General St. Clair had about eleven hundred men, had reason to expect an attack, and kept his men under arms all night, drawn up in a square. The attack commenced about dawn of day on all the lines, but principally on the rear line, which was composed of the militia. The Indians gave one fire and rushed on, tomahawk in hand. The militia gave way to the centre, and before the artillery could be brought into action the matrosses were all killed, and it fell into the hands of the enemy. It was retaken, but was useless for want of men to manage the pieces. The action was continued obstinately until nine o'clock, when the troops gave way. St. Clair rallied his men, and brought them off in tolerable order, with most of the wounded, to Fort Jefferson, thirty miles in the rear of the action. The enemy pursued five miles.
Few officers of distinction escaped, except General St. Clair, who had many narrow escapes. Eight balls passed through his clothes. The attack was conducted with as tonishing intrepidity on the part of the Indians. In a few moments the general's tent was surrounded. However, he was rescued by a party of regular soldiers, who repelled the enemy with fixed bayonets. .
[The Indians in this disastrous affair claim to have been four thousand strong, and to have lost but fifty-six warriors killed. They took no prisoners, but treated the wounded on the field with great inhumanity.]
A few weeks after the defeat of the troops under General St. Clair, General Scott despatched from the men under his command two spies to reconnoitre the enemy, who, when they arrived at the distance of a few miles from the fatal spot where the bloody action was fought, discovered a large party of Indians, diverting and enjoying themselves with the plunder they had taken, riding the bullocks, etc., and appeared to be mostly drunk. The men returned and communicated this most important information to General Scott, who immediately divided his troops into three divisions and advanced on the enemy by surprise. The contest was short, but victorious on the part of the American troops. Two hundred of the enemy were killed on the spot, all the cannon and stores in their possession retaken, and the remainder of the savage body put to flight. General Scott, losing but six men, returned to head-quarters in triumph, with most of the cattle, stores, etc.
General Scott gave the following affecting account of the appearance of the field on which the bloody action between the American troops under General St. Clair and the savages was fought: "The place had a very melancholy appearance. Nearly in the space of three hundred and fifty yards lay three hundred skull- bones, which were buried by my men while on the ground; from thence, about five miles on, the road through the woods was strewed with skeletons, muskets, etc."
[Their great success in the action described roused the Indians to continued acts of outrage and massacre, and in time they grew so bold and daring as to render all the frontier settlements insecure. It became necessary either to abandon the region or to subdue the savages. The government, three years after the defeat of St. Clair, took measures to effect the latter purpose.]
After the defeat of two armies, and the great suffering of the inhabitants, by the Indians, as related in the preceding chapter, our government came to the determination to adopt more effective measures for the protection of the Western frontiers. General Anthony Wayne was appointed to the command of the forces raised for that purpose, and ordered to proceed against the hostile Indians, who had assembled in great force on the river Miamis. He gained a decisive victory over them, which put an end to their depredations for several years. The particulars of the battle are related in the following official despatch from him to the Secretary of War:
"It is with infinite pleasure that I announce to you the brilliant success of the Federal army under my command, in a general action with the combined force of the hostile Indians and a considerable number of the volunteers and militia of Detroit, on the 20th of August, 1794, on the banks of the Miamis, in the vicinity of the British post and garrison at the foot of the rapids.
"The army advanced to Roach de Bout on the 15th, and on the 19th we were employed in making a temporary post for the reception of our stores and baggage, and in reconnoitring the position of the enemy, who were encamped behind a thick bushy wood and the British fort.
"At eight o'clock on the morning of the 20th the army again advanced in columns, agreeably to the standing order of the march: the legion on the right, its right flank covered by the Miamis; one brigade of mounted volunteers on the left, under Brigadier-General Todd, and the other in the rear, under Brigadier-General Barbee. A select battalion of mounted volunteers moved in front of the legion, commanded by Major Price, who was directed to keep sufficiently advanced, and to give timely notice for the troops to form in case of action, it being yet undetermined whether the Indians would decide for peace or war.
"After advancing about five miles, Major Price's corps received so severe a fire from the enemy, who were secreted in the woods and high grass, as to compel them to retreat.
"The legion was immediately formed in two lines, principally in a close, thick wood, which extended for miles on our left, and for a very considerable distance in front, the ground being covered with old fallen timber, probably occasioned by a tornado, which rendered it impracticable for the cavalry to act with effect, and afforded the enemy the most favorable covert for their mode of warfare. The savages were formed in three lines, within supporting distance of each other, and extending for near two miles at right angles with the river. I soon discovered, from the weight of the fire and extent of their lines, that the enemy were in full force in front, in possession of their favorite ground, and endeavoring to turn our left flank. I therefore gave orders for the second line to advance to support the first, and directed Major-General Scott to gain and turn the right flank of the savages, with the whole of the mounted volunteers, by a circuitous route. At the same time I ordered the front line to advance and charge with trailed arms, and rouse the Indians from their covert at the point of the bayonet, and when up to deliver a close and well-directed fire on their backs, followed by a brisk charge, so as not to give them time to load again or to form their lines. I also ordered Captain M. Campbell, who commanded the legionary cavalry, to turn the left flank of the enemy next the river, which afforded a favorable field for that corps to act in. All these orders were obeyed with spirit and promptitude; but such was the impetuosity of the charge by the first line of infantry that the Indians and Canadian militia and volunteers were driven from all their coverts in so short a time that, although every possible exertion was used by the officers of the second line of the legion, and by Generals Scott, Wood, and Barbee of the mounted volunteers, to gain their proper positions, but part of each could get up in season to participate in the action, the enemy being driven in the course of one hour more than two miles through the thick woods already mentioned, by less than one-half their number.
"From every account, the enemy amounted to two thousand combatants. The troops actually engaged against them were short of nine hundred. This horde of savages, with their allies, abandoned themselves to flight and dispersed with terror and dismay, leaving our victorious army in full and quiet possession of the field of battle, which terminated under the influence of the guns of the British garrison. .
"The loss of the enemy was more than double that of the Federal army. The woods were strewed for a considerable distance with dead bodies of Indians and their white auxiliaries, the latter armed with British muskets and bayonets. We remained three days and nights on the banks of the Miamis in front of the field of battle, during which time all the houses and cornfields were consumed and destroyed for a considerable distance above and below the garrison, among which were the houses, stores, and property of Colonel M'Kee, the British Indian agent, and principal stimulator of the war now existing between the United States and the savages.
"The army returned to head-quarters on the 27th, by easy marches, laying waste the villages and cornfields for about fifty miles on each side of the Miamis. It is not improbable that the enemy may make one desperate action against the army, as it is said a reinforcement was hourly expected at Fort Miamis from Niagara, as well as numerous tribes of Indians living on the margins and islands of the lakes. This is an event rather to be wished for than dreaded whilst the army remains in force; their numbers will only tend to confuse the savages, and the victory will be the more complete and decisive, and which may eventually insure a permanent and happy peace. Total killed, thirty-eight; wounded, one hundred and one.
[Wayne's victory effectually quieted the Indians of that region. Sixteen years elapsed before another outbreak took place, that of the Indians of the Wabash, under the leadership of the celebrated Tecumseh. This was effectually silenced by the defeat of the savages by the army under General Harrison, at the battle of Tippecanoe, on November 6, 1811, in which the Indians were routed with great slaughter. The Indian leader, however, was not present at this battle, and survived to give trouble to the Americans in the war which soon after broke out with Great Britain.]
JOHN BACH MCMASTER.
[Before considering the subject indicated in the title of this article, a brief review of the political events which followed the adoption of the Constitution is advisable. The reign of party spirit in the United States began with the adoption of this instrument by the Convention. Between this date and that of its ratification by the States the Federal and Anti-Federal parties struggled for supremacy, the former being in favor of a strong central government, the latter favoring the practical independence of the States. The ratification of the Constitution by the States ended this contest. The prominent Anti-Federalists announced their intention of supporting the Constitution, and for several years there was practically but one party in the country. George Washington was the first President elected, the electoral vote in his favor being unanimous. John Adams was chosen for Vice-President. Until about 1824-28, electors were generally chosen by the State legislatures, not by the direct vote of the people, as since that period. The two persons receiving the highest electoral vote became respectively President and Vice-President.
Opposition to the Federal party began in 1790, when Hamilton broached a project for the assumption of State debts by the central government. It grew stronger in 1791, when he proposed to establish a national bank. Jefferson, who had been the first Secretary of State, was now found at the head of a party in open opposition to the administration. This party, though adopting the name of Republicans, advocated the principles of the older Anti-Federalists, claiming that there was a scheme to subvert the State governments and establish a strong central government, and denouncing the Hamilton party as monarchists. Democratic clubs soon after arose, instigated by, and imitating many of the follies of, the Jacobin revolutionists of France. They had the one good effect of introducing political discussion among the masses of the people, and in a few years the Democrats coalesced with the Republicans as a single national party. The Federalists, however, continued in the majority, and in 1792 Washington and Adams were again elected President and Vice-President.
During this second term the power of the Republican party rapidly increased. The acts of the administration were fiercely attacked, and when, at the approach of a new election, Washington announced his intention to retire, a hot political contest arose, which nearly resulted in a Republican victory. Of the electoral votes Adams received seventy-one, and Jefferson sixty-eight, the latter receiving all but two of the Southern votes. The new administration was therefore organized with Adams for President and Jefferson for Vice-President.
The financial condition of the country had now greatly improved. A sound credit was established, funds were provided for the payment of the national debt, and treaties were concluded with the Indians and with several of the European powers, while a very rapid increase in population and in agricultural and commercial wealth had taken place. During the summer of 1800 the seat of government was removed from Philadelphia to Washington, as at that time the centre of the country. The Republican party continued to develop in strength, mainly on account of the passage of laws which tended to strengthen the central government, and which were unfavorably received by the people. The "Alien Law," which empowered the President to order from the country any foreigner whose presence he deemed dangerous to the public safety, and the "Sedition Law," which visited with fine and imprisonment "any false, scandalous, or malicious writing against the government of the United States, or either House of Congress, or the President," were deemed tyrannical measures; while the effort to pass an act establishing a standing army added to the unpopularity of the Federalists. In the election of 1800, therefore, the Republicans were victorious. Jefferson became President, and Aaron Burr, who had prominent control of the Democratic party, was made Vice-President. Jefferson and Burr, indeed, received an equal number of votes, and Congress had to decide between them. With this election the power of the Federal party ceased, and for many years thereafter the "State Rights" Democratic-Republican party continued in the supremacy. The effort to strengthen the central government unduly at the expense of the power of the States had failed, and the Federalists, as a distinct party, gradually vanished from existence.
With the accession of this new party to power the principal governmental offices were placed in the hands of the Republicans, the system of internal duties was abolished, and several unpopular laws were repealed. In 1802 Ohio was admitted as a State, and in the succeeding year the Territory of Louisiana was purchased from France. This important purchase added so enormously to the domain of the United States as to demand here a more extended notice.
The United States was at that period surrounded by alien territory. On the north, Canada remained in the hands of the English. On the south, Florida, which had been ceded to England in 1763, captured in part by the Spanish allies of the United States in 1781, and re-ceded to Spain in 1783, bounded the States from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. Louisiana, embracing the whole Mississippi Valley, and extending indefinitely westward, remained French territory after the close of the French and Indian War. In 1762 it was secretly transferred to Spain, though open possession was not given till 1769. Meanwhile, in 1763, Great Britain obtained by treaty that portion lying east of the Mississippi, from its source to the river Iberville. In 1783 this territory was ceded to the United States by the treaty of peace with England. All the territory west of the Mississippi, and on the east from the 31st parallel of latitude to the Gulf, remained in the hands of Spain.
No sooner had American settlements extended to the region of the Mississippi and its eastern affluents than the importance of having free use of this river as a channel of transportation to the sea was strongly felt. This sentiment intensified as the settlements increased and the Spanish authorities manifested a hostile policy. That a foreign power should restrict the use of the mouth of such a river as the Mississippi was intolerable, and had it not been ceded peacefully it must eventually have been taken by force. From McMaster's admirable "History of the People of the United States" we select an account of the acquisition of this vast and valuable territory.]
ON October first, 1800, by the secret treaty of San Ildefonso, Spain gave back to France that province of Louisiana which, in 1762, France had given to her. It was long before the existence of this treaty was known; but the moment it was known Jefferson saw most clearly that trouble with France was not at an end. There was, he said, one spot on the face of the earth so important to the United States that whoever held it was, for that very reason, naturally and forever our enemy; and that spot was New Orleans. He could not, therefore, see it transferred to France but with deep regret. The day she took possession of the city the ancient friendship between her and the United States ended; alliance with Great Britain became necessary, and the sentence that was to keep France below low-water mark became fixed. This day seemed near at hand, for in November, 1802, word came that an expedition was making all haste to cross the ocean and occupy Louisiana.
Meanwhile, the Spanish intendant of the province put forth a proclamation, closed the navigation of the Mississippi to American citizens, forbade all trade, and took away the right of deposit at New Orleans. Protected by this right, the inhabitants of Kentucky and Ohio had for seven years past been floating tobacco and flour, bacon and hams, down the Mississippi in rude arks, and depositing them in the warehouses of New Orleans, there to await the arrival of the sloops and scows to carry them to the West Indies, or to points along the Atlantic coast. The intendant could, at any time, shift the place of deposit; but, by the terms of the treaty of 1795, some convenient port near the mouth of the river must always be open for the deposit of goods and produce. In this respect, therefore, the treaty had been violated; for, when New Orleans was shut, no other town was opened.
[The state of affairs here indicated was earnestly debated in Congress, and a resolution passed which, while not accusing Spain, declared that the rights of navigation and deposit should be maintained.]
Jefferson was now free to act without fear of meddling from the House, and he speedily did so. The Senate, in a special message, was informed that he had not been idle; that such measures had been promptly taken as seemed likely to bring a friendly settlement about, and that the purpose of these measures was the buying of so much territory on the east bank of the river as would put at rest forever the vexed question of the use of its mouth. His confidence in the ability of the minister at the court of France to accomplish this was unlimited. Yet he could not but believe that the end would be hastened by sending to his aid a man fresh from the United States and bearing with him a just and lively sense of the feeling late events had aroused in the great mass of the people. He therefore nominated James Monroe to be minister extraordinary and plenipotentiary to France, and minister extraordinary and plenipotentiary to Spain; for, Louisiana not having been actually transferred to France, it seemed proper that his Catholic majesty should also be consulted. The Senate confirmed the nomination, and gave Monroe full power, in conjunction with Livingston in France and Pinckney in Spain, to frame any treaty or convention that extended and secured the rights of the United States on the Mississippi, and set apart two millions of dollars to be used, it was understood, for the purchase of the island of New Orleans.
[The Federalists in Congress strongly opposed these measures, and offered resolutions tending towards war with Spain. They declared that the free navigation of the river was a clear right of the United States, and that interference with it by Spain was a hostile aggression. They demanded that the President should take possession of some fit place of deposit, and that, if necessary, fifty thousand militia should be called out, and five millions of dollars appropriated for this purpose. These resolutions were opposed and voted down by the Republican party, but in their place a bill was passed authorizing the President to call out a provisional army of eighty thousand militia, and to spend twenty-five thousand dollars in building arsenals in the West.]
For the troops the President had no need. The Republicans were right, and, in a few months, far more was secured by negotiation than the Federalists had ever expected to obtain by violence and the use of arms. For months past Livingston had been trying to persuade the First Consul to sell a part of Louisiana to the United States. He begged the Spanish minister to hinder the transfer of the district to France; for, till the transfer was made, the colonists Napoleon was bent on sending to America were not likely to sail. Again and again he demanded a speedy settlement of the debt due to American merchants, and urged the benefits France would derive by parting with a piece of her ancient soil. Not a word came in reply. The man through whose hands his notes all passed was Talleyrand, who still held under Napoleon the same place he once held under the five Directors. Change of master was the only change that able and unprincipled minister had undergone. He was still the treacherous, grasping, ambitious knave of 1797. To Livingston he was all graciousness, but not a word of the American minister's notes reached the First Consul that Talleyrand did not approve. To sell Louisiana was not the wish of Talleyrand. He would see France once more in possession of her old domain, firmly planted on American soil, controlling the Mississippi, setting bounds to the United States, threatening Canada, and, it might be in the near future, planting the tricolor on the walls of that great fortress from which England had pulled down the lilies of France.
It is idle to speculate what might have been the destiny of our country had Louisiana become permanently a possession of France. The thing was not to be Convinced that Talleyrand was tricky, Livingston passed him by and wrote directly to the man whose will was the will of France. Citizen First Consul was asked if the French did not intend to pay their just debts. He was reminded that the Board of Accounts had liquidated and given certificates for about one- quarter of the debt, that on these certificates the American merchants had raised small sums to enable them to live, and that, on a sudden, while the Board went on liquidating, the certificates ceased to be given. He was told of the feeling aroused in the United States by the change about to take place in the ownership of Louisiana. He was asked to sell so much of the territory as lay south of latitude thirty-one, from the Mississippi to the Perdido, and so much as, west of the Mississippi, lay north of the Arkansas River. Thus would the United States secure the mouths of the rivers flowing from her territory to the Mexican gulf. Thus would France have a barrier placed between her and the possessions of her most ancient foe Was not this to be considered? The cupodity of Britain knew no bounds. The Cape, Malta, Egypt, had already awakened her avarice. Should she turn her arms westward, a struggle for Louisiana would at once begin. Of what use could the province be to France? To enable her to command the gulf, supply her islands, and give an outlet to her surplus population. To scatter population over a boundless region was, therefore, bad policy: the true policy was to concentrate and keep it near the sea. The country south of the Arkansas could well maintain a colony of fifteen millions of souls. Could France keep more in subjection? Ought not faraway colonies to be moderate in size? Would rich and prosperous settlements up the Missouri River always be content to pay allegiance to the distant ruler of France?
These memorials brought a speedy reply. Livingston was assured that the First Consul would see to it that the debts were paid, and would send a minister to the United States with full power to act. The minister was to have been General Bernadotte; but on this mission he was destined never to depart. In March the quarrel with England concerning Malta grew serious. "I must," said Napoleon to Lord Whitworth, in the presence of the assembled ministers of Europe, "I must either have Malta or war." New combinations were forming against him in Europe; all England was loudly demanding that Louisiana should be attacked, and, lest it should be taken from him, he determined to sell it to the United States.
April eleventh Talleyrand asked Livingston for an offer for Louisiana entire. The island of New Orleans and West Florida, he was told, were wanted, and no more. This much sold, what remained would, he asserted, be of small value. He would therefore like to know what price the United States would give for all. Livingston thought twenty millions of francs, and Talleyrand departed, protesting the sum was far too small.
The next day Monroe reached Paris, and the day after Barbe-Marbois, Minister of the Treasury, called. Marbois astonished Livingston by declaring that one hundred millions of francs and the payment of the debts due American citizens was the price of Louisiana. This would bring the cost to one hundred and twenty- five millions, for at twenty-five millions of francs Livingston estimated the debts. He pronounced the price exorbitant; Marbois admitted that it was, and asked to take back to St. Cloud an offer of eighty millions of francs, including twenty millions for the debts. Some higgling now took place; but on these terms the purchase was effected by the three instruments dated April thirtieth, 1803.
[These were, a treaty of cession, an instrument arranging the mode of payment, and one treating of the debts, their character, and the method of their settlement.]
Jefferson was greatly puzzled when these three documents reached his hand. He had offered to buy an island for a dock-yard and the place of deposit; he was offered a magnificent domain. He had been authorized to expend two millions of dollars; the sum demanded was fifteen. As a strict constructionist he could not, and for a while he did not, consider the purchase of foreign territory as a constitutional act. But when he thought of the evils that would follow if Louisiana remained with France, and of the blessings that would follow if Louisiana came to the United States, his common sense got the better of his narrow political scruples, and he soon found a way of escape. He would accept the treaty, summon Congress, urge the House and Senate to perfect the purchase, and trust to the Constitution being amended so as to make the purchase legal.
[A sharp debate in Congress, ensued, the old Federal party strongly opposing the consummation of the purchase. The enormous increase the purchase would make in the national debt became a favorite theme, and every effort was made by writers and printers to show the people what a stupendous sum fifteen millions of dollars was.]
Fifteen millions of dollars! they would exclaim. The sale of a wilderness has not usually commanded a price so high. Ferdinand Gorges received but twelve hundred and fifty pounds sterling for the province of Maine. William Penn gave for the wilderness that now bears his name but a trifle over five thousand pounds. Fifteen millions of dollars! A breath will suffice to pronounce the words. A few strokes of the pen will express the sum on paper. But not one man in a thousand has any conception of the magnitude of the amount. Weight it, and there will be four hundred and thirty-three tons of solid silver. Load it into wagons, and there will be eight hundred and sixty-six of them. Place the wagons in a line, giving two rods to each and they will cover a distance of five and one-third miles. Hire a laborer to shovel it into the carts, and, though he load sixteen each day, he will not finish the work in two months. Stack it up dollar on dollar, and, supposing nine to make an inch, the pile will be more than three miles high.. All the gold and all the silver coin in the United States would, if collected, fall vastly short of such a sum. We must, therefore, create a stock, and for fifteen years to come pay two thousand four hundred and sixty-five dollars interest each day. Invest the principal as a school fund, and the interest will support, forever, eighteen hundred free schools, allowing fifty scholars and five hundred dollars to each school. For whose benefit is the purchase made? The South and West. Will they pay a share of the debt? No, for the tax on whiskey has been removed.
Statistics, most happily, were of no avail. The mass of the people pronounced the purchase a bargain. The Senate, on October nineteenth, ratified the and conventions; the ratification of Napoleon was already in the hands of the French charge, and on October twenty-first Jefferson informed Congress that ratifications had that day been exchanged. On November tenth the act creating the eleven millions two hundred and fifty thousand dollars of stock called for by the first convention was passed. On December twentieth, 1803, Louisiana was peaceably taken possession of by the United States.
The Province of Louisiana, as the region came to be called, was to Americans of that day an unknown land. Not a boundary was defined. Not a scrap of trust- worthy information concerning the region was to be obtained. Meagre accounts of what travellers had seen on the Missouri, of what hunters and trappers knew of the upper Mississippi, of what the Indians said were the features of the great plains that stretched away towards the setting sun, had indeed reached the officials, and out of these was constructed the most remarkable document any President has every transmitted to Congress. It told of a tribe of Indians of gigantic stature; of tall bluffs faced with stone and carved by the had of Nature into what seemed a multitude of antique towers; of land so fertile as to yield the necessaries of life almost spontaneously; of an immense prairie covered with buffalo, and producing nothing but grass because the soil was far too rich for the growth of trees; and how, a thousand miles up the Missouri, was a vast mountain of Salt! The length was one hundred and eighty miles; the breadth was forty-five; not a tree, not so much as a shrub, was on it; but, all glittering white, it rose from the earth a solid mountain of rock salt, with streams of saline water flowing from the fissures and cavities at its base! The story, the account admitted, might well seem incredible; but, unhappily for the doubters, bushels of the salt had been shown by traders to the people at St. Louis and Marietta..
The vexed question of the existence of the salt mountain was soon to be put at rest. Many months before, while the country was excited over the closing of the Mississippi, Jefferson urged Congress to send a party of explorers up the Missouri to its source, and thence overland to the Pacific Ocean. The idea was a happy one, was approved, an appropriation made, and Meriwether Lewis and William Clark chosen to carry out the plan. Jefferson drew their instructions, and on May fourteenth, 1804, the party entered the Missouri. In time thy crossed the mountains, reached the Pacific, and wandered over that fine region which came afterwards to be known as Oregon.
[In 1792 the mouth of the Columbia River had been discovered by Robert Gray, a merchant-captain trading between Boston and China by way of Cape Horn, and the first American to carry the flag of the United States around the world.
With the purchase of Louisiana is connected an important incident in the life of the celebrated Aaron Burr, which may be mentioned here. This personage, after serving a term as Vice-President of the United States, killed Alexander Hamilton in a duel growing out of a political quarrel. Burr next, having lost his property and having incensed the people against him, made his way to the West, and while there organized what was supposed to be a scheme for making war on the Spanish territories adjoining the newly-gained district of Louisiana. It is said that the intended to make himself monarch of this region, and also that he designed separating the Western Territories from the United States. His suspicious movements alarmed the government, and a proclamation was issued, warning the Western people against his illegal enterprises, and ordering the arrest of Burr and his followers. He was eventually arrested in Mississippi Territory, and sent to Richmond, where he was tried for treason, in a case that excited wide-spread attention. No overt act was proved against him, and he was acquitted. Upon his acquittal he went to Europe, where he lived for some time in extreme poverty. Returning to America, he practised law in an obscure manner for many years, and died in 1836.]
J. FENIMORE COOPER.
[The close of the Revolutionary War, although it secured the recognition of the United Sates as a sovereign and independent nation, by no means removed all the difficulties in its path to empire. From the very first, sources of complaint existed between the two lately warring countries. Great Britain was accused of carrying away negroes at the close of the war, of illegal seizures of American property, and of retaining military posts in the West on what was now territory of the United States. The United States was charged with withholding the estates of loyalists, and preventing British subjects from recovering debts contracted before the war. It was feared that another war might arise from these disputes, particularly as the Indian outbreaks in the West were known to have been encouraged by British emissaries, while the defeated savages fled to British forts for protection. These difficulties were fortunately settled by a treaty made in 1795.
But new sources of trouble quickly arose. The commerce of America was now increasing with remarkable rapidity. For the protection of the growing commerce the country possessed a very inefficient navy, and it was exposed to perils which quickly brought the country into danger of war with France, and eventually resulted in two wars, one with Tripoli and one with England. The outcome of the French Revolution had now brought all Europe under arms, and England had begun that vast struggle against the power and genius of Napoleon which was destined to become the most remarkable event of modern warfare. At the outbreak of the war the Republican party favored the French, but the administration was in favor of England. Angered at this, and at the treaty concluded between the United States and Great Britain, the French Directory adopted measures highly injurious to American commerce. Envoys were sent to France, who the Directory refused to receive, while an unofficial demand was made for a large sum of money as a preliminary to negotiations. This was refused, and two of the envoys, who were Federalists, were soon afterwards ordered to leave France.
As war now appeared inevitable, the people of the United States being roused to a state of high indignation, measures were taken for raising an army, a naval armament was decided upon, and captures of French vessels were authorized. A few naval encounters took place, in which on one side an American armed schooner and on the other a French frigate were captured, when the directory gave way, and made overtures of peace. Ministers were accordingly sent to France to settle the difficulties by treaty.
Meanwhile, Great Britain had begun that system of impressment of seamen from American merchant-vessels which was destined to result finally in war between the two nations. Seriously in need of men to aid in her struggle with France, and now unable to buy them from the German duchies, as she had done in the American war, she claimed the right to take British seamen wherever found, and to stop and search vessels on the high seas. At first, indeed, the claim was limited to deserters from the British service. But it was soon extended to cover British seamen, and finally to embrace all British subjects. Eventually the seamen on American merchantmen were obliged to prove on the spot that they were to American birth, or be subject to impressment. As early as the years 1796-7 applications were made in London for the release of two hundred and seventy-one seamen thus seized within nine months, most of them American citizens. It was later, however, before this evil grew so intolerable as to demand warlike redress.
The first commercial was of the United States arose from a different cause, the depredations of Moorish pirates upon American merchantmen. For many years past the Barbary Powers of Northern Africa had made the Mediterranean unsafe for commerce, and the weaker mercantile nations of Europe, after some unsuccessful attempts to suppress these outrages, had consented to pay an annual tribute for the security of their commerce. The United States for some time did the same, but a bolder course was soon adopted, and war declared against Tripoli, the most annoying of these piratical powers. This was continued from 1801 to 1804. In 1803, Commodore Preble was sent with a fleet to the Mediterranean. He forced the Emperor of Morocco to adopt pacific measures, and then proceeded to Tripoli. Here one of his squadron, the frigate Philadelphia, while reconnoitring in the harbor, ran on a reef, and was taken by the Tripolitans. This event, and those which succeeded, were of such interest and importance that we select a detailed description of them from Cooper's "Naval History of the United States."]
TOWARDS the last of the month of October, the wind, which had been strong from the westward for some time previously, drove the Philadelphia a considerable distance to the eastward of the town, and on Monday, October the 31st, as she was running down to her station again, with a fair breeze, about nine in the morning, a vessel was seen in-shore and to windward, standing for Tripoli. Sail was made to cut her off. Believing himself to be within long-range shot a little before eleven, and seeing no other chance of overtaking the stranger in the distance that remained, Captain Bainbridge opened a fire, in the hope of cutting something away. For near an hour longer the chase and the fire were continued, the lead, which was constantly kept going, giving from seven to ten fathoms, and the ship hauling up and keeping away as the water shoaled or deepened. At half- past eleven, Tripoli being then in plain sight, distant a little more than a league, satisfied that he could neither overtake the chase nor force her ashore, Captain Bainbridge ordered the helm aport, to haul directly off the land into deep water. The next cast of the lead, when this order was executed, gave but eight fathoms, and this was immediately followed by casts that gave seven, and six and a half. At this moment the wind was nearly abeam, and the ship had eight knots' way on her. When the cry of "half-six" was heard, the helm was put hard down, and the yards were ordered to be braced sharp up. While the ship was coming up fast to the wind, and before she had lost any of her way, she struck a reef forwards, and shot up on it, until she lifted between five and six feet.
This was an appalling accident to occur on the coast of such an enemy, at that season of the year, and with no other cruiser near. It was first attempted to force the vessel ahead, under the impression that the best water was to seaward; but on sounding round the ship it was found that she had run up with such force as to lie nearly cradled on the rocks, there being only fourteen feet of water under the fore-chains, while the ship drew, before striking, eighteen an a half feet forward. Astern there were not eighteen feet of water, instead of twenty and a half, which the frigate needed. Such an accident could only have occurred by the vessel's hitting the reef at a spot where it sloped gradually, and where, most probably, the constant washing of the element had rendered the surface smooth, and by her going up on top of one of those long, heavy, but nearly imperceptible swells that are always agitating the bosom of the ocean.
[Strenuous efforts were made to get the vessel off, as some gunboats had appeared from the town. The sails were braced atf, and the guns run astern, but without effect.]
Captain Bainbridge next gave orders to throw overboard all the guns, after reserving a few aft, that were retained for defence; and the anchors, with the exception of the larboard bower, were cut from the bows. Before this could be effected, the enemy came within gunshot, and opened his fire. Fortunately, the Tripolitans were ignorant of the desperate condition of the Philadelphia, and were kept at a respectful distance by the few guns that remained; else they might have destroyed most of the crew, it being certain that the colors would not be struck so long as there was any hope of getting the ship afloat. The cannonade, which was distant and inefficient, and the business of lightening the frigate, went on at the same time, and occupied several hours.
The enemy finally became so bold that they crossed the stern of the frigate, where along they were at all exposed to the fire, and took a position on her starboard or weather quarter. Here it was impossible to touch them, the ship having slewed to port in a way to render it impracticable to bring a single gun to bear, or indeed to use one at all, on that side.
Captain Bainbridge now called another council of his officers, and it was determined to make a last effort to get the vessel off. The water-casks in the hold were started, and the water was pumped out. All the heavy articles that could be got at were thrown overboard, and finally the foremast was cut away, bringing down with it the main-top-gallant mast. Notwithstanding all this, the vessel remained as immovable as the rocks on which she lay.
The gunboats were growing bolder every minute, others were approaching, and night was at hand. Captain Bainbridge, after consulting again with his officers, felt it to be an imperious duty to haul down his flag, to save the lives of the people. Before this was done, however, the magazine was drowned, holes were bored in the ship's bottom, the pumps were choked, and everything was performed that it was thought would make sure of the final loss of the vessel. About five o'clock the colors were lowered.
[The gunboats at once ran alongside and took possession, and the officers and crew were sent as prisoners to Tripoli, after being stripped, in some cases, of nearly all their clothing. The officers were well treated by the bashaw, but the capture of so many prisoners made an instant change in his position. He had taken three hundred and fifteen captives, twenty-two of them quarter-deck officers, from the Philadelphia, for whom he demanded an enormous ransom, while his former supposed inclination to peace disappeared. A few days afterwards the prize was got off the reef, partly by the aid of a high wind, and was taken in triumph to the city, the leaks being stopped. The guns, anchors, and other articles which had been thrown upon the reef were raised, and the ship partly repaired, and moored off the town, about a quarter of a mile from the bashaw's castle, her guns being remounted.
The fleet had been absent during these occurrences, Commodore Preble first learning at Malta of the loss of the Philadelphia. On his return to Tripoli a suggestion was made by Captain Bainbridge of the possibility of destroying the lost vessel, which was slowly being fitted for sea as a Tripolitan cruiser. The suggestion being made to Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, commander of the Enterprise, he at once decided to attempt the perilous undertaking, with the aid of a ketch called the Mastico, which he had recently captured. This vessel was fitted for the purpose, renamed the Intrepid, and on the evening of February 3, 1804, entered the harbor of Tripoli, having on board a crew of seventy-six men.]
It was a mild evening for the season, and the sea and bay were smooth as in summer. Perceiving that he was likely to get in too soon, when about five miles from the rocks Mr. Decatur ordered buckets and other drags to be towed astern, in order to lessen the way of the ketch, without shortening sail, as the latter expedient would have been seen from the port and must have awakened suspicion. In the mean time the wind gradually fell, until it became so light as to leave the ketch but about two knots' way upon her, when the drags were removed.
About ten o'clock the Intrepid reached the eastern entrance of the bay, or the passage between the rocks and the shoal. The wind was nearly east, and, as she steered directly for the frigate, it was well abaft the beam. There was a young moon, and as these bold adventurers were slowly advancing into a hostile port, all around them was tranquil and apparently without distrust. For near an hour they were stealing slowly along, the air gradually failing, until their motion became scarcely perceptible.
Most of the officers and men of the ketch had been ordered to lie on the deck, where they were concealed by low bulwarks', or weather-boards, and by the different objects that belong to a vessel. As it is the practice of those seas to carry a number of men even in the smallest craft, the appearance of ten or twelve would excite no alarm, and this number was visible.
[The Philadelphia hailed the ketch, when sufficiently near. Answer was returned that it was a Maltese vessel, which had lost its anchors in a gale, and wished to ride by the frigate during the night. The pilot, who could speak the Tripolitan language, continued to converse with the Moors, until the ketch came so near as nearly to run afoul of the frigate.]
Not the smallest suspicion appears to have been yet excited on board the frigate, though several of her people were looking over her rails, and notwithstanding the moonlight. So completely were the Turks deceived that they lowered a boat and sent it with a fast. Some of the ketch's men, in the mean time, had got into her boat, and had run a line to the frigate's fore-chains. As they returned, they met the frigate's boat, took the fast it brought, which came from the after part of the ship, and passed it into their own vessel. These fasts were put into the hands of the men, as they lay on the ketch's deck, and they began cautiously to breast the Intrepid alongside of the Philadelphia, without rising. As soon as the former got near enough to the ship, the Turks discovered her anchors, and they sternly ordered the ketch to keep off, as she had deceived them,-preparing, at the same time, to cut the fasts. All this passed in a moment, when the cry of "Amerikanos!" was heard in the ship. The people of the Intrepid, by a strong pull, brought their vessel alongside of the frigate, where she was secured, quick as thought. Up to this movement not a whisper had betrayed the presence of the men concealed. The instructions had been positive, to keep quiet until commanded to show themselves, and no precipitation, even in that trying moment, deranged the plan.
Lieutenant-Commander Decatur was standing ready for a spring, with Messrs. Laws and Morris quite near him. As soon as close enough, he jumped at the frigate's chainplates, and, while clinging to the ship himself, he gave the order to board. The two midshipmen were at his side, and all the officers and men of the Intrepid arose and followed. The three gentlemen named were in the chains together, and Lieutenant-Commander Decatur and Mr. Morris sprang at the rail above them, while Mr. Laws dashed at a port. To the latter would have belonged the honor of having been first in this gallant assault, but, wearing a boarding- belt, his pistols were caught between the gun and the side of the port. Mr. Decatur's foot slipped in springing, and Mr. Charles Morris stood first upon the quarter-deck of the Philadelphia. In an instant Lieutenant-Commander Decatur and Mr. Laws were at his side, while heads and bodies appeared coming over the rail, and through the ports, in all directions.
The surprise appears to have been as perfect as the assault was rapid and earnest. Most of the Turks on deck crowded forward, and all ran over to the starboard side as their enemies poured in on the larboard. A few were aft, but as soon as charged they leaped into the water. Indeed, the constant plunges into the water gave the assailants the assurance that their enemies were fast lessening in numbers by flight. It took but a minute or two to clear the spar- deck, thought there was more of a struggle below. Still, so admirably managed was the attack, and so complete the surprise, that the resistance was but trifling. In less than ten minutes Mr. Decatur was on the quarter-desk again, in undisturbed possession of the prize.
There can be no doubt that this gallant officer now felt bitter regrets that it was not in his power to bring away the ship he had so nobly recovered. Not only were his orders on this point peremptory, however, but the frigate had not a sail bent, nor a yard crossed, and she wanted her foremast. It was next to impossible, therefore, to remove her, and the command was given to pass up the combustibles from the ketch.
The duty of setting fire to the prize appears to have been executed with as much promptitude and order as every other part of the service. The officers distributed themselves, agreeably to the previous instructions, and the men soon appeared with the necessary means. Each party acted by itself, and as it got ready. So rapid were they all in their movements that the men with combustibles had scarcely time to get as low as the cockpit and after-store-rooms before the fires were lighted over their heads. When the officer intrusted with the duty last mentioned had got through, he found the after-hatches filled with smoke from the fire in the ward-room and steerage, and he was obliged to make his escape by the forward ladders.
The Americans were in the ship from twenty to twenty-five minutes, and they were literally driven out of her by the flames. The vessel had got to be so dry in that low latitude that she burnt like pine; and the combustibles had been as judiciously prepared as they were steadily used. The last party up were the people who had been in the store-rooms, and when they reached the deck they found most of their companions already in the Intrepid. Joining them, and ascertaining that all was ready, the order was given to cast off. Notwithstanding the daring character of the enterprise in general, Mr. Decatur and his party now ran the greatest risks they had incurred that night. So fierce had the conflagration already become that the flames began to pour out of the ports, and, the head-fast having been cast off, the ketch fell astern, with her jigger flapping against the quarter-galley, and her boom foul. The fire showed itself in the windows at this critical moment, and beneath was all the ammunition of the party, covered with a tarpaulin. To increase the risk, the stern-fast was jammed. By using swords, however, for there was no time to look for an axe, the hawser was cut, and the Intrepid was extricated from the most imminent danger by a vigorous shove. As she swung clear of the frigate, the flames reached the rigging, up which they went hissing like a rocket, the tar having oozed from the ropes, which had been saturated with that inflammable matter. Matches could not have kindled with greater quickness.
The sweeps were now manned. Up to this moment everything had been done earnestly, thought without noise, but as soon as they felt that they had got command of their ketch again, and by two or three vigorous strokes had sent her away from the frigate, the people of the Intrepid ceased rowing, and, as one mean, they gave three cheers for victory. This appeared to arouse the Turks from their stupor, for the cry had hardly ended when the batteries, the two corsairs, and the galley [which lay close within the Philadelphia] poured in their fire. The men laid hold of the sweeps again, of which the Intrepid had eight of a side, and, favored by a light air, they went merrily down the harbor.
The spectacle that followed is described as having been both beautiful an sublime. The entire bay was illuminated by the conflagration, the roar of cannon was constant, and Tripoli was in a clamor. The appearance of the ship was in the highest degree magnificent; and to add to the effect, as her guns heated they began to go off. Owing to the shift of wind, and the position into which she had tended, she, in some measure, returned the enemy's fire, as one of her broadsides was discharged in the direction of the town, and the other towards Fort English. The most singular effect of the conflagration was on board the ship, for the flames, having run up the rigging and masts, collected under the tops, and fell over, giving the whole the appearance of glowing columns and fiery capitals.
[The Intrepid continued her course outward, unpursued, and unhurt by the shot that was sent after her, until she reached the Siren, which had lain outside the harbor during the enterprise. Setting sail, they made their way to Syracuse, where the fleet lay.]
The success of this gallant exploit laid the foundation of the name which Mr. Decatur subsequently acquired in the navy. The country applauded the feat generally; and the commanding officer was raised from the station of a lieutenant to that of a captain..
In whatever light we regard this exploit, it extorts our admiration and praise, the boldness in the conception of the enterprise having been surpassed only by the perfect manner in which all its parts were executed. Nothing appears to have been wanting, in a military point of view; nothing was deranged, nothing defeated. The hour was well chosen, and no doubt it was a chief reason why the corsairs, gunboats, and batteries were, in the first place, so slow in commencing their fire, and so uncertain in their aim when they did open on the Americans. In appreciating the daring of the attempt, we have only to consider what might have been the consequences had the assault upon the frigate been repulsed. Directly under her guns, with a harbor filled with light cruisers, gunboats, and galleys, and surrounded by forts and batteries, the inevitable destruction of all in the Intrepid must have followed. These were dangers that cool steadiness and entire self-possession, aided by perfect discipline, could alone avert. In the service the enterprise has ever been regarded as one of its most brilliant achievements, and to this day it is deemed a high honor to have been one of the Intrepid's crew.
[The war with Tripoli continued until 1805, when a land-expedition was undertaken which captured Derne, a Tripolitan city. The army of the bashaw was also defeated in two engagements, after which he offered terms of peace, which were accepted. The fleet next anchored in the Bay of Tunis, and forced the monarch of that country into peaceful measures. War subsequently broke out in the same region, with Algiers. From 1795 to 1812 an annual tribute had been paid to the dey of this country, but he took advantage of the war of America with England to begin a piratical warfare on American vessels. In 1815, Commodore Decatur was sent to Algiers with a fleet, and, after capturing several of the largest vessels of the dey, compelled that potentate to release all American prisoners in his possession, and to give up all future claims of tribute from the United States. Tunis and Tripoli were also humbled, and the long-continued piracies of the Barbary Powers finally suppressed.]
JAMES SCHOULER.
[The terrible and long-continued conflict in Europe between England and her allies on the one hand and Napoleon on the other could not fail to be felt in America, and as the combat grew more desperate and the powers of the combatants more strained, measures were taken whose effects were severely felt by all the civilized world. The demand for men made England eager to gain sailors and soldiers from any source and in any manner, and the principle of impressment was extended from British soil to the merchant-ships of the United States. Many American citizens were thus impressed, under the claim that they were British subjects. Long persistence in this course made the captains of British war- vessels so over-bold and insolent that they finally enforced their "right of search" upon an American frigate. The story of this outrageous proceeding, and of the subsequent measures adopted in America to punish England and France for their tyranny towards commerce, is well told in Schouler's "History of the United States," from which we select the following description.]
A CANNON-SHOT from a British man-of-war parted the flimsy veil of diplomatic assurances that a right of search could be considerately practised, and made a breach that was never repaired. The insolence of British naval commanders on the American coast had certainly suffered little constraint under recent orders from home. In the course of the spring a British sloop-of-war, one of the vessels which had been inhibited by the President's proclamation at the time of the Leander outrage, entered Charleston harbor to procure water, and defied the local authorities when ordered to depart.
That affront to the United States was trivial in comparison with one that presently followed. Three seamen, having deserted from the Melampus, one of the British squadron whose rendezvous was just within the capes of Virginia, enlisted on board the United States frigate Chesapeake, then fitting out at the Washington navy-yard for the Mediterranean. Their surrender was requested by Minister Erskine, but our administration declined, on ample grounds, to comply. We have seen that our government was now offering to forbid the employment of deserters, on reciprocal terms, and as an inducement to some relaxation of impressment on England's part. Without a treaty, as was the case here, no obligation rested upon the United States to surrender deserters from the British navy at all; the more so that, unlike desertions from merchantmen, which are mere breaches of private contract, desertion from a ship of war must have subjected the culprit to the punishment of a court-martial. Inquiries showed, moreover, that all these men were colored, and Americans by birth, two of whom had been pressed into the British service from an American vessel in the Bay of Biscay. To this government the mutual extradition was of very little consequence; and yet, so far from countenancing British desertions, our executive had forbidden the enlistment of persons in the navy known to be British subjects, a prohibition which did not here apply.
Official correspondence closed, but the British captains appear to have stimulated Admiral Berkeley, who commanded, to issue from Halifax an extraordinary order, enabling them to take the law into their own hands. Sailing from Washington in June, and reporting at Norfolk to Commodore Barron for duty, the Chesapeake dropped down to Hampton Roads, and on the morning of the 22d [June, 1807] set sail, having the three colored sailors on board. From the British squadron, the Leopard, a two-decker, mounting about fifty guns, stood out to sea at the same time, preceding the Chesapeake, but keeping her in sight.
The British officers had muttered threats, though giving no clear notice of their intention. Barron, less suspicious than he should have been, proceeded on his course. The Chesapeake mounted only thirty-eight guns, some of which had just been put on board. His crew was not yet drilled to the use of ordnance, his deck was littered, and the vessel was altogether unfit for immediate action. At three o'clock in the afternoon the Leopard bore down and hailed her; and while the Chesapeake lay to, a boat from Captain Humphreys of the Leopard brought his demand for the three alleged deserters from the Melampus. The British lieutenant, who stepped on board, produced likewise, in token of Humphreys's authority, a copy of what purported to be a circular from the admiral at Halifax. That circular, dated June 1, which was now produced for the first time, recited, in an exaggerated strain, that British subjects and deserters had enlisted on board the Chesapeake, and ordered all captains of his command, who should fall in with that frigate at sea, to show these instructions and proceed to search for such deserters,the pretence being added that the search of a national vessel was according to civilized usage, which permitted the Chesapeake also to make a corresponding search in return.
Commodore Barron, though taken by surprise, made a suitable reply, denying knowledge of any such deserters, and claiming that the crew of a United States war-vessel could only be mustered by their own officers. But in his excitement he seemed to forget the sure consequence of such a response, and made his preparations for action quite tardily. The Leopard's ports were triced up when she appeared in sight, and while the lieutenant waited half an hour for his reply, the vessel had worked into an advantageous position.
Humphreys, upon the return of his boat with Barron's reply, called through a trumpet, "Commodore Barron must be aware that the orders of the admiral must be obeyed." Barron did not understand, and this was repeated. A cannon-shot across the bows of the Chesapeake followed these ominous words, soon another, and then a whole broadside. While our unfortunate frigate was exposed for twelve minutes to a raking fire, a vain effort was made to discharge its own guns; but neither priming nor match could be found, and appliances for reloading were wanting. At last, after the Chesapeake had received twenty-one round-shot in the hull, three of the crew being killed and eighteen wounded, and Barron himself receiving a slight hurt, the American flag descended, and at the same moment the first and only gun on the American side was touched off by one of the officers by means of a live coal brought from the galley. The crew of the Chesapeake was mustered submissively before two British lieutenants, who, after a protracted search, arrested the three colored men from the Melampus, and one Wilson or Ratford, besides, a deserter from another British vessel, who had hidden in a coal-hole. Having secured these prisoners, Humphreys, with much show of politeness, refused to accept the Chesapeake as his prize, and sailed for Halifax. Here the four deserters were tried by British court-martial and sentenced to be hanged. Wilson, who was an English subject, was executed, but a reprieve was granted to the three colored Americans on condition of their re-entering the British service.
[This extreme instance of the exercise of the right of search, claimed by the British authorities, roused an instant storm throughout America. What had been an outrage when applied to merchant-vessels was now converted into a deep insult by this enforced search of a man-of-war.]
When, therefore, the drooping, dismantled Chesapeake came back into Norfolk harbor, bearing its dead and dying, no wonder that the smouldering wrath of our sensitive people leaped into flame. Men wore crape upon their arms to mourn for the slain. In all the chief commercial towns were held public meetings, where citizens, without distinction of party, united in execrating the British outrage. Reparation for the past and security for the future was the universal cry of American freemen:reparation or war. "This country," wrote Jefferson, "has never been in such a state of excitement since the battle of Lexington."
A Cabinet meeting was promptly called at Washington, and measures resolved upon in tone with the public expression,-not, however, to the extent of declaring war, though from the temper of the new British ministry this was expected to follow. American vessels in distant ports were warned of their danger. Recent appropriations for defence were used in strengthening our most exposed ports, New York, New Orleans, and Charleston. Of the gunboats available for service, most were assigned to New York, New Orleans, and the Chesapeake. Military stores were procured, and States were called upon for their quotas of one hundred thousand militia to be organized and ready to march.
A proclamation ordered British cruisers to depart from American waters, and forbade all aid and intercourse with them except in case of extremity. On the return of the Chesapeake to Norfolk, the inhabitants of that town had resolved in public meeting to hold no intercourse with the British squadron in the vicinity until the President's pleasure was known. This decision was received with contemptuous defiance by the British commander Douglas, whose squadron remained within our waters, chasing American merchantmen, until Governor Cabell, of Virginia, ordered militia detachments to the scene. There was no naval force on the coast adequate for compelling obedience to the President's proclamation, a circumstance of which British cruisers took advantage; but so long as they lay quietly outside there was no disposition to molest them.
[Orders were at once sent to Minister Monroe, in London, to suspend all negotiations with England, except for a disavowal of and redress for this outrage. The ministry at once disavowed the act, and a conditional reparation was promised. This, however, was never made. Apology and indemnity to the families of the slain could not be given without yielding the claim of the right to search American vessels, and this the ministry continued to insist upon. The fierce struggle between England and Napoleon, indeed, brought fresh measures into vogue, which bore yet more severely on neutral nations. British "Orders in Council," and Napoleon's counter-proclamations, cut off all the commerce of the United States with Europe, and no merchant-vessel could cross the ocean to a European port except under peril of capture and confiscation. By way of reprisal, Congress, at the suggestion of President Jefferson, on December 18, 1807, passed a bill laying an embargo on all foreign-bound vessels, with the expectation that if all American commerce with Europe were thus prevented, the authorities of England and France would be glad to rescind their oppressive decrees. The idea proved erroneous. It quickly appeared that the warring powers could do without America better than America could do without them.]
Congress had adjourned in April [1808], leaving the President at full leisure to apply his experiment during a long recess. At first embargo had been well received, but after the spring elections appeared decisive symptoms that sentiment was changing. The stoppage of commerce bore with crushing severity upon New England, whose ships and seamen were thrown suddenly out of employment. Her old merchants tottered to ruin, without a general bankrupt law to relieve them. Breadstuffs and fresh provisions accumulated at the wharves, which, if not exported, would perish and be a dead loss. The high price of such supplies abroad, in comparison with the statute penalties, encouraged shippers to practise every artifice to get them out of the country, though at the risk of capture. The law was evaded by fraud or force; vessels slipped out from Machias, Portland, Nantucket, and Newport harbors; and so high-handed was the resistance to embargo on the Canada border at Lake Champlain, where an illicit traffic went on, that the national government had to equip vessels and send troops thither to maintain its authority.
Flour was the chief commodity in these smuggling ventures. Much was got over the lines into Canada; barrels upon barrels were stored, too, at Eastport and in the southern ports of Georgia, ready to be conveyed, as opportunity might serve, into New Brunswick over the one boundary and Florida over the other. On this account, chiefly, Congress had passed the third Embargo Act just before adjournment, under which the President was empowered to grant special permits for vessels to clear from ports adjacent to foreign territories and make seizure and search of suspected vessels. Collectors were accordingly directed not to grant clearances at all to vessels laden with flour. But, some States finding it needful to import flour for home consumption, the President authorized the respective governors to grant merchandise permits for domestic convenience to those in whom they had confidence. This plan worked badly, for some of the State executives, in fulfilling their functions as "ministers of starvation," yielded too readily to the clamors of the merchants who pestered them, as did especially the easy-tempered Sullivan, whose official permits soon began circulating in cities as far south as Washington, where they were openly bought and sold. By a later circular the President advised the collectors not to detain coastwise vessels with unsuspicious cargoes; and this rule operated much better.
New York city felt embargo like the creep of death. In November that port was full of shipping. On the wharves were strewn bales of cotton, wool, and merchandise; barrels of potash, rice, flour, and salted provisions; hogsheads of sugar, tea, rum, and wine. Carters, sailors, and stevedores were busy. The Tontine Coffee-House was filled with underwriters, brokers, and merchants, all driving a brisk business, while the auctioneer on the front steps knocked off the goods which were heaped about the sidewalk. Carts, drays, and wheelbarrows jammed up the Wall and Pearl Street corner. But the next April all was quiet and stagnation; crowds and merchandise had vanished from Coffee-House Slip, and many commercial houses in the vicinity were closed up.
By midsummer the President and Secretary Gallatin were burdened with cases which required special instructions. They were tormented by personal applications for leave to transport. Against every loop-hole appeared the pressure of a besieging host. It was the most embarrassing law Jefferson had ever to execute; he had not expected such a sudden growth of fraud and open opposition. But he was resolved, nevertheless, that the convenience of the citizen should yield far enough to give the experiment a fair trial..
History must admit that so far as embargo was used as a weapon for coercing Europe it utterly disappointed expectation. The sacrifice required at home, in order to produce an impression abroad, proved of itself fatal in practice to the long endurance of any such experiment. If England bled, or France, under the operation, the United States bled faster. Jefferson miscalculated in supposing that the European struggle had nearly culminated, or that the nerveless Continental powers could organize an armed neutrality to protect their own interests. Instead of a sinking, vacillating, debt-ridden England, he found a stubborn England making capital of what it owed, its prodigious resources slowly uncoiling. He found a new ministry, hard as flint, with Parliament to brace it, bending with redoubled energies to the war, heedless of Liverpool remonstrances, marching the red-coats to break up meetings and suppress riots in Manchester and those other manufacturing towns where embargo and the Continental exclusion were most heavily felt. Next to making American commerce tributary to the British exchequer, the aim of those who framed the Orders in Council had been to drive it from the ocean, so that British merchants might absorb the maritime trade once more to themselves. This latter alternative embargo directly favored. Our non-importation act, which had now gone into effect against Great Britain, made it still less an object for that country to court a repeal of the embargo. By way, too, of partial offset to the loss of our market, a new one was opened to England by the outbreak in Spain. As if to exasperate us to the utmost, the Orders in Council were repealed as to that nation, but not the United States.
[Slowly and surely America was drifting towards war, as the only escape from the evils produced by the European struggle, which embargo and non-importation heightened instead of alleviating.]