?•/ V^-y <'•»;/.. v?^-y %*i ^O ^*'\ •L<5J5ts^*« ^ J* .♦ s*"* ••/ **.-i^\/ %'^-*%p' V'i!^\/ %'♦ s5» ^Ci .♦^-v. J^/^*^ c°^.i^•^^>o >^\c:^/^^^ /-^.Ji^li^^o >^\»:: ^^«^.^ •^^'^ ^o.-^f**o'^ 'V-^^\-?>'^^ %.*^-*aO^ V' .0- . •..:iwi:-. V .*.^\.;i-i:.X y..:ifl^.r^* ^^V.-AU-.V .4?^ *^^%« .-!>% 0.? »f^ ,o> V*^^-./ %'^^'\p^ 'V-^^\-^'«-^ %.^^^'\ >.^' ^oV' *-..^'' .*'% #'\ /r^c IN THE FOOTSTEPS ,, OF I'l^ WASHINGTON POPE'S CREEK TO PRINCETON BY ALBERT H. HEUSSER LECTURER. DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION, NEW YORK CITY MEMBER NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC SOCIETY'. AUTHOR OF "THE LAND OF THE PROPHETS" • 'HOMES AND HAUNTS OF THE INDIANS" "THE HEART OF THE ETERNAL CITY" ' ETC. ETC. SUBSCRIBERS' EDITION PRIVATELY PRINTED AT 334-336 Godwin Street, PATERSON, NEW JERSEY COPYRIGHT, 1921 I'.y ALBERT H. HEUSSER .5 m 24 19? I FOREWORD. 1^ EVER has the influence of George Washington been so powerful a factor in the life of America as it is to-day, for the reason that the tensions of the past seven years have drawn us very close to the heart of our Revolutionary Leader, and given us a re- newed respect for his noble character and old-fashioned ivisdoin. To attempt another "Life of Washington," after the classic pages of Irving, the scholarly reviews of Mr. Wilson or the practical applications of Senator Lodge, would be highly presumptuous. Yet we cannot know Washington too well, and I am persuaded that, by fol- lowing in his footsteps and drawing inspiration from, an intimate knowledge of the storied regions made memorable by his presence and (^ivities, we may pos- sess ourselves of an elevating And invigorating friend- ship with the truly great man who led us to a place among the nations. * An appreciative knowledge of George Washing- ton cannot but make us more worthy of our national heritage in these tijues of re-adjustment, when each — for himself — must interpret the meaning of "Ameri- canism." A. H. H. Beaver Lake, N. J. April 5th, 1921 ^ffecttonati'Iy ©ebtcaicb to tl|c ^ctttory of nty 3fatl]cr 1847 - 1919 CONTENTS Page I THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 17 *\VaKhin!;ton's Bdi/hotid IJome, 'Pine (irorc/ oppositf Fredfrirksburg. II IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 77 *Thf Fort Duqucfitx' Block House. III IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 147 *2'hi' Old Elm at Camhr\d B. BARBADOS 69 to 75, 138 BARCLAY, THOMAS 269 BARRETT, COL. of Mass. Militia 176 BARTLETT, DR. (N. H. Signer of 'Decla- ration') 202 BASKING RIDGE, N. J 269, 301-2 Aycd Oak at 302-3 BEAVER, PA 95, 96 BEDFORD, PA 129 BEDFORD. MASS 171 BELVOIR, Manor of 45, 46, 67, 97 137 BEMIS HEIGHTS, (Battle of) .... 190 BENNETT, JAMES GORDON 243, 246 BENNINGTON, VT. (Battle at) .... 190 BERGEN COUNTY N. J. 194, 244, 255 BERMUD.A 75 BERNARDSVILLE, N. J 300-301 BERRYVILLE. VA 67, 84 BILLERICA, MASS 177 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES: Benjamin Franklin 110-111 Gnr. William Franklin {of N. J.) 164- 165 BIRTHPLACE OF WASHINGTON, Pope's Creek 17 to 30 'BISHOP,' Washington's body servant 123 BLUE RIDGE MO^UNTAINS 44, 47, 48, 54. 58. 64, 83 BOEUF, (Fort) (Pa.) 84, 96 BOGOTA, Bergen Co. N. J 257 BOLTON, CHAS. KNOWLES, (His- torian) 195 Book-kee])ing Habit of Washington .... 145 BOONE. DANIEL 87 BORDENTOWN, N. J. 161, 269, 271, 279 BOTETOURT, LORD, (Governor of Vir- ginia) » 1, 83 BOLDIAOT, ELIAS (of N. J.) 280 BOUQCET, COL. HENRY .... 7 7, 129-131 BOSTON, Washington at 126, 164, 170, 185, 196 to 198 Ma.sfiarre 147, 165 Tea I'artii 147, 166, 167 Keroluttonury History 158159164 to I'uI'lic Library 165 /f'.v Hdl 179 Bitnkir Hill Monument 18(J T(jl>o!/raphy of lhO-181 Di,reh,'st,r Heights 181-196-197 E radiation of 197 Common 198 BOYHOOD OF WASHINGTON, 34 to 44, 136 BRADDOCK. GEN. EDWARD 104-5-6-7, 110, 113, to 123, 129 Braddoek, Pa 117, 118 ■Braddoeks Road' 90, 101, 111, 114, 115, 124, 129, 134-146 Braddoek s Battlefield .... 117, 118, 132 Braddock's Rdics 122, 123 BRADFORD, WM., U. S. Atty. General, 280 BRETT. H. M. (Historic Painter) .... 195 BRIDGES CREEK, VA 22-23, 39 BRIDGETOWN, BARBADOS ... 71 to 74 BRIERY MOUNTAIN, PA 124 British -Vrmv as a world-conquering force, 122 BROWN, JOHN 109 BROWNSVILLE. PA 100 BROOKS PHILLIPS 182 BRONX RIVER, WESTCHESTER CO., N. Y 235-6, 241 BROWNSBURG, PA 272 BROOKLYN, N. Y 198-204-213 Battle of Long Island 214-221 Prospcet Park 215-216 iirnrfsend 214 Flathush Are 215-216 BUCKSTOWN, PA 129 BUNKER HILL, Battle of, 177 to 181, 192 BURLINGTON, N. J., 162, 163, 164, 269, 271. 279 to 284 BURR, AARON 228 to 230, 259 BURR, DR. AARON (of Princeton).... 295 C. CADWALADER. GEN. JOHN .... 279-282 CALLAHAN, CHAS. H., quoted .... 97-8 CAMBRIDGE, MASS. Washington at 181 to 188 Vassal-Craiqie House 187-18 S The ■Old Elm' 147. 184-5 Wadsu'orth House 182-184 CANADIAN CAMPAIGN, 1775 6 .... 186-7 CARLYLE, MAJ. JOHN 105 CARLYLE HOUSE. Alexandra, Va. 104- 5-6 CARLETON, SIR GUY (British Officer at New York) 205 CARPENTERS' HALL, Philadelphia, 154 to 158 II INDEX CARROLL, CHARLES (Md. Signer of 'Declaration') 202 CARY MISS MOLLY (of Williams- burg) lo7-138 CARY, MISS SALLY, (oft Williams- burg) t7, 137 CHAMBiiiRLAIN, MAJOR Virginia Plant- er 140 CHALK HILL, AUeghenys 99 CHARLES RIV^ER. MASS. ViB, 181, 187 CHARLOTTESVILLE, VA 59 CHARLESTOWN, MASS. 169, 178, 180 CHARLESTON, S. C 198 CHATHAM, N. J 269 CHATTERTON'S HILL, (Westchester Co. N. Y.) 236-8 CHERRY RUN 112 CIRCLEVILLE, PA 116 CIVIL WAR, references to 49, 64, 109, 126. 263 CLEVELAND, GROVER, President of U. S 295-6 COLLINS. ISAAC (Colonial Printer of Burinffton) 280 CLINTON, SIR HENRY 205-209 CLOSTER, BERGEN CO. N. J 250 CODRINGTON, GENER.VL 121 CODRINGTON. COLLEGE, Barbados 74 COLDSTREAM GUARDS (British) 122 Colonial Architecture 155-156 COLONIAL BEACH, VA 19-21 COLVIN, PATRICK, (Trenton Ferry- man) 282 CONCORD, MASS. 158, 170, 171 173 to 176 Battle of 174 to 176, 177 The 'Old Manse,' 174, 176 Wright Tavern 176, 177 Grave of Brtish Soldiers 178 CONNELSVILLE, PA 89, 93. 94. 114 CONTINENTAL CONGRESS, (The First 1774) 153 to 158 Thr Second, (1775-1776) 158 d scq. 199 (Washington's relations with) 189-194- 222 (Land Grants to Rrroliitionarg sold- iers) 194 COOPER, JAS. PENIMORE 280 CORNWALLIS, LORD CHAS. 66, 209, 218 In New Jersey, 250-252, 258, 267, 282, 288-289 Courtship and Marriage of Washing- ton 140 142 CRAIGIE. DR. ANDREW 187 CRAIK. DR. JAMES 113, 114, 145 CRAWFORD, COL. WILLIAM, (of Penn- sylvania) 145 CROWN POINT, VT 185 CUMBERLAND. MD. 86, 88-9, 112, 124 'Fort Cumberland' 89-9, 100, 108, 114 126, 127 'Cumberland Pike' 90 cusTis, G. w. p .;;;. 29 Martha. 'The Widow Custis' see Mrs. Washington Col. Daniel Parke 140-142 John VDJ Martha 140 D. DAGW^ORTHY, CAPTAIN, (British Offi- cer) - 126 "DAUGHTERS OP THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION" 248 DAVIS, RICHARD HARDING 233 DE BEAUJEU. (French Officer) 118 DE HEISTER, GEN., ^Hessian Offi- cer) 209-217 DELAW^\RE RlV^ER 162-3 267-268 11 ashimjtoti's Crossine/ B73-4 DINWIDDIE, ROBT., Governor of Vir- ginia 68, 78, 80, 81, 94, 97, 102, 125 DOBBS FERRY, N. Y 273, 241 •DOGUE RUN' at Mt. Vernon .... 31, 45 Domestic Life of Washington 145 DUNBAR, COL. THOMAS 113, 119, 124 DUNMORE, LORD, (Governor of Vir- ginia) 148-149-153 DUNOP. COUNT, (Hessian Officer) 209- 271-279 DUQUESNE, FORT 77, 102, 115, 128, 130, 131, 132, 145 E. EARLY, GEN. JUBAL, references to, 49 EDMUNDS' SWAMP, PA 129 Educational Activities of W^ashington .... 81 Educational Opportunities of Washing- ton 42. 297 ELIZABETH, N. J. 163, 164. 209, 264 EMERSON, RALPH W^\LDO 174, 176-17/- Rev. WiJliam 174 'EPSEWASSON,' (Mt. Vernon) .... 30 to 32 33 ERIE,"'Countv Pa 84 ERIE Lake 84 ESSEX COUNTY, N. J 255-264 P. FAIRFAX, ANNE 45 FAIRFAX, LORD THOMAS 44 48,49, 50, 54 to 56, 58, 67, 84, 159 FAIRFAX, COL. W'lLLIAM .... 45-46. 69 105 FAIRFAX, GEORGE W. 45-47, 67, 69, 137 Mrs. G. W 67 •FAIRFAX LAND' 57 FARMINGTON, PA 124 FAUNTELROY, WM. (Virginia planter), 138 Betsy (Early friend of Washington) 138 FAUSETT, TOM 118, 121 FAYETTE COUNTY, PA. 89, £0, 91-99, 105, 115, 121 Financial Status of W^ashing^on 142 FITZGERALD, COL. JOHN (Aide to Washington) 287 FLUSHING. N. Y. (Long Island) .... 222 FORBES, GEN. JNO., 77, 127 128, 129- 130-133 "FORBES ROAD" 128 to 130 FORMAN. COL. D.VVID 264 FORT LEE, (N. J. Palisades) 207, 235, 242-3 250 to 254 Monument 254 FORT WASHINGTON N. Y. 212-220 (See N. Y. City) 241 to 250 FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN 43, 101, 109, 110. 181. 199, 210. 222, 228-297 FRANKLIN, GOV. WILLIAM, (of N. J.) 162 to 165 FRANKLIN, P.V 84 FRAZER'S RUN. PA 117 FREDERICK. MD 48, 109-10 113 FREDERICKSBURG, VA. Boyhood "home of Washington 17, 18. 33, 37 Historic References 83 191-2 290 FREDERICK COUNTY, VA. 134 FRENCH AND INDIAN WAR: Preliminaries 68. 77, 78 Washington's part in, 83 to 141 FROSTBURG, MD 90 FRY, COL. JOSHUA 98 INDEX III G. GAGE GENERAL, (British Commander at Boston) 168, 179 GARRISON, WM. LLOYD 168 GATKS, GEN. HORATIO 270 GENEALOGICAL NOTES, Washington family 22 to 25, 28 General Officers of the Continental Army 191-2 GEOLOGY of Luray Cave'-ns 52 of the Natural Bridge 63 GEORGE III, King of Great Britain. 59 Hi« Ktatue in New York City ........ 211 GILBERT, CASS, Architect 83 GIST, ClIKISTOPHER 85, 87, 93 IIi.i plantatiun 102. 113 'Thomas 146 'GLADE TRAIL,' (Pa.) 128 GLOVER, COL. JOHN 233. 274 GLOVER'S MASSACHUSTETTS REGI- MENT 187, 190-191, 220-275 GOWANUS CREEK, (Brooklyn. N. Y.) 218 GRANT, MAJOR, (British Officer, 1758) 129 GRANTSVILLE, MD 89 ■GREAT CROSSING'S,' PA 89. 124 GREAT FALLS. VA 68 GREAT MEADOWS PA. 99, 101, 114, 120. 123. 127 GREENE, GEN. NATH. 198, 216-217, 226, 233, 235, 242. 244, 248, 252, 259, 274 GREENSBURG PA 130 GREENWAY COURT 46, 54, 55 to 57, 58, 159 GROTTOES, VA 50 GRYMES, LUCY, (Early friend of Wash- ington) Ib8 H. HACKENSACK, N. J. 242, 252, 254 to 260 R-.vcr, 253. 255, 257, 259 Where Washington crossed 255 HACKENSACK, N. J. (Histor.c sites at) 256 HADDEN, JAMES quoted 104 His bust of n ashington 103, 143 Photographs from Mr. Hadden illustrat- ing chaptei II where noted) HALE, CAPT. NATHAN 230-232 'HALF KING' Indian Sachem .... 98-99 HALIFAX. N. S „ 197, 208 HAMILTON, ALEXANDER 229, 230, 265-275 HANCOCK, JOHN 147, 160, 165. 170, 173 199 HANNASTOWN. PA 129-130 HANOVER COURT HOUSE, VA .... 150 HARPERS FERRY, W. VA. 84. 107-8-9 HARRISON, COL. ROBT. H. (Secretary to Washington) 233 HARVARD COLLEGE, Cambridge, Mass. 81. 129, 182 to 184, 293 Massachusetts Hall 182-183, 294 Widener Memorial Library 183 HAVERSTRAW, N. Y 212 HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL 174. 177 HEADLEY, J. T. quoted 142 HEATH, GEN. WILLIAM 242 HENRY, PATRICK 149-150-151-153-154- 159 HERKIMER, GENERAL 194 HESSIAN SOLDIERS 258 At Trenton 275-277 HEWITT, ERSKINE, (His portrait of Washington reproduced) 156 The Miss< s Sarah C. and Eleanor G. (Relics in possession of) 123 HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL .... 182 HOPKINS. STEPHEN (Of Rhode Island) 147 HOPKINSON, FRANCIS, of N. J. 161 HOWE, GEN. WILLIAM (British Offi- cer), 177-179-197, 208, 209, 213-219 222-4, 227, 234, 241, 244, 266, 268 Admiral Howe .-. 209 HUDSON RIVER OBSTRUCTIONS 207- 212-247-8-9 Defences 214, 244, 248 Refirrnces to 242, 244, 250, 254 (King's Ferry) _ 242 I'alisades 244, 250-2, 254 HUNKERS, PA 116, 134 HUNTINGTON, L. I. (N. Y.) 231 INDEPENDENCE, DECLARATION OF 158 201-2, 211 INDEPENDENCE HALL, (Philadelphia) 158 159, 200 The Liberty Bell 200 INDIANS — Archaeological Notes : Shell Heaps 20 Anthro/rohigical Notes: — ■ 49-66 Highways 90 Historical Notes 78-9, 99, 112,13 118 134 Landmarks 133 Names 84 IRVING, WASHINGTON (Quoted). 220 J. JACOB'S CREEK, PA 116 JAMAICA. N. Y 214-217 JAMES RIVER, VA 58. 64. 65 'James River and Kanawha Canal', 64, 65 JASPER. SERG. (At Charlest:.n, S. C), 199 JEFFERSON THOMAS, 43 59, 61, 81, 199 JERSEY CITY (Paulus Hook) 222 JONCAIRE, CAPT. French Officer .... 95 •JOURNALS' OF WASHINGTON: On trip to the Ohio, 97, 98 Barbados Chronicle . 72 JUMONVILLE, (French Officer). 98, 99 100 JUMONVILLE, PA 119 K. KANAWHA RIVER 87 146 KEITH, WILLIAM '. 272 KENTUCKY, References to 37, 90 KNOWLTON MAJ. THOS 179-226 KNOX, GENERAL HENRY, 185, 186 194, 233 KNOX, P. C. (Sec. of State) 121 KNYPHAUSEN, (Hessian Commander) 209-244 LACOCK PROF. JOHN K.. (quoted), 129-130-131 LAFAYETTE. MARQUIS .... 156-178-259 LAKE CHAMPLAIN 185 LAKE GEORGE 185 LA SALLE, (French Explorer) 78 LATROBE, PA 128 LAWRENCE CAPT. JAMES 280 IV INDEX LAUREL HILLS PA., 91, 99 113, 116, 124 LEAR, TOBIAS (Washington's Secre- tary) 145 LE BOii;UP, PA 84 LEE. HENRY 'Light-Horx ' 138 Gen. Charles 162-184-198-203-204-206, 233, 236-242-265-269-o01 LEONIA (Bergen Co.) K. J 255 LEXINGTON. MASS. 147, 158, 169 to 173, 177 LIGONIER, PA 129-131 {Fort Ligioncr) 131 ••LIFE-G-UARD" of Wathington 257 LINCOLN, ABRAHAM 46, 193 'LITTLE CROSSINGS', MD 89 LITTLE PERRY N. J 255 256 LIVINGSTON, WILLIAM Governor of N. J.) 164-214 'LGGSTOWN'. (on the Ohio) 79 95 LONDON. ENG 97 LONG ISLAND, N. Y., 198-213-214-215- 222, 230 Battle of 214-219 Rctnat from 220-221 LONG ISLAND SOUND 205 232-3 LONG RUN, PA 116 LONGFliLLOW HENRY W., 169, 182- 187-188 LOSSING, DR. BENSON J. (Historian), References to 2^8 240 278 'Love Affairs' of Washington, 'iS. 135 to 142 LOWELL. JAMES RUSSELL 182 LOYALHANNA PA 128" 130 LURAY. CAVERNS, VA 50 to 53 LYNCHBURG, VA 64, 66 M. MADISON JAMES, (Pres. of U. b.), 81 MAETERLINK, MAURICE, References to 259 MAGAW COL. (of Penn.) 230 235-241- 244 MAM RONECK, CCNN. 235 MANUFAl TURING IN AMERICAN COL- ONIES 190 MARION, GEN. FRANCIS 191 MARSHALL, JOHN (Chief Justic? U. S.) 200 MASoN GEORGE (of Virginia) 149 MASONIC PRVTd;RNlTY, The 170 MATHER, DR INCR.^ASE (Boston Di- vine) 169 MAWHOOD, COL. (Br.ti&h Officer \' 287, 289 MAXWELL'S N. J. BRIGADE .... 191 Mc CONKEYS TAVERN (N J ) 271-4 282 McKEESPORT, PA 93 132-133-134 MEDFORD, MASS 177 Mental Qualifications of Washington, 40- 42, 69 MERCER CAPT. GEORGE 146 MERCER GEN. HUGH 191. 192,' 290 At Battle of Prinriton, 286-7 289-290- 291 'Mercer Bridge, Princeton Battlefield, 285- 289 MIDDLETON. ARTHUR (S. C. Signer cf 'Declaration') . oq--) MIFFLIN. GEN. THOS "..".'.'.'.'.".' 220-282 MILITARY CAREER OF W\\SHINGTON- French War 69 to 141 lh,e K(vohttion 147 to 304 MILLSTONE, N. J. 29'^ MISSISSIPPI RIVER .... 68, fs; 132 250 MONMOUTH COUNTY, N. J 264 MONONGAHELA RIVER 89, 93, 94 100, 115, 118, 130, 131, 133-146 MONROE JAMES, (Pres. of U. S.), 22 81 MONTGOMERY, GEN. RICHARD .... 186 •MONTICELLO', Home of Jefferson .... 59 MOORE, SIR JOHN 120 Moral .Vttributes of Washington, 40-42 136 Moral Character of Washington, 136 193- 4. 304 MORGAN, GENERAL DANIEL 191 MORGANTOWN, MD 19 MORRIS COUNTY, N. J 300-303, 304 MORRIS. ROBT. (Financier of the Revo- lution) 282 MORRIS, LEWIS (N. Y. Signer of Dec- laration) 201 MORRIS, MAJ. ROBT 139, 140 228 MORRISTOWN, N. J., 264-267 269. 303 Wa-ihngton. at 292-299-303 The Arnold Tart rn 303 MOSSOM REV. DAVID 142 MOULTRIE COL. (of S. C.) . . 199 MOUNT PLEAS.VNT, PA., 115 116, 134, 146 MOUNT VERNON its earlv historv, 30 to 32, 44, 45 75. 76. 137 ....Prior to the Rerolvtion. 106, 126 134 143-144 /^f furni.fhirir/x 56 Its Auricult^iral. DcvelojJtnent 145 Out builtlin'ifi 31 MUHLENBURG GEN. PETER ..".'..'"""" 191 MURRYSVILLE, PA 129 MAPS:— Illustrating Washington's Youthful Haunts 21 Washington's Expeditions to the Ohio. 85 N. NAPOLEON I of France Ill, 187 •NATIONAL HIGHWAY (to the West), 90-115-121 NATURAL BRIDGE, VA 58 to 64 Wa.shington's visit to 62-63 NECESSITY, (Fort), 98, 101 103, 104, 114 NELSON, ADMTR \L HORATIO .... 73, 74 NELSON WILLIAM, (Historian) quoted, 164 NEILSON, COL. (of N. J.) 266 'NEMACOLIN'S PATIT 90 92, 115 116 124 NEW.VRK, N. J. Rcvolutionarv historv, 262 to 264 'NEW BRIDGE', (North Hackensack) N. J 255 NEW BRUNSWICK. N. J., 265 to 268 291 NEW ENGLAND CAMPAIGN. 1775 6, 164 NEW KENT COUNTY, VA. 140-142 NEW LONDON, CONN 198 NEW ROCHELLE N. Y 235 NEWTON, PA 272 NEW JERSEY, PROPRIETARY GRANT 268 NEW JERSEY, Pre-Revolufionarv his- tory i63-4-5 Wa.fhin.gton's retreat through 222 241 250, to 270 NEW YORK CITY, Young Washington ,. at 139 Anro! Operations of 1776, 203 204 205 213-220-1 Episode of 'Golden Hill' 148 Preparations for d fence 1776 198 203, 210-211 INDEX V NEW YORK CITY — RiTerside Drive, 225- 6, 245 249 Battery Park .... 199, 204. 206, 212 Governor's Island 204 Gen. Washinuton at, 205, 213-221 to 235 -Vo. 1 Broadwav 205, 206, 213 Bowling Green 206 211 Harlem Eeic/hts, 207, 223-6, 241, 242 to 250 (Battle of) 224 to 226 Harlem River 224, 244, 246 Fort Washin,(/ton 207 212, 220, 225 235, 242 to 2'50 Jeffrei/s Hook 247-8 The l^arrows „ 208 Old City Hall 208, 231 Bombardment of 212, 214, 243 House at No. 7 State Street 212 East River 217. 220 221-2 Brooklyn Bridge 221 'Murray Hill' 222 to 224 •Greenwich' 222 Trinity Churchyard 223 Van Cortlandt Park 203-223 'Sugar House' Prison 203-223 British Occupancy .... 224-227-245-268 Mott's Tavern 224 Morris House (Jumel Mansion) 224, 227 to 233-247 Columbia University 225-6 Cathedral of St. John the Divine, 225 Tomb of Gen. Grant 225 'Hamilton Grange' 229 Fordham Heights 244 Kingsbridge .--.... 246 As seen from N. J. Palisades .... 254 Historical Society 211 NIAGARA French post at 78 NORFOLK, VA 154 NORTH CASTLE, N. Y 236 242, 269 NORTH RIVER, VA ." 58 N. Y. (See Hudson River) NORWICH. CONN 198 O. O'DONOVAN, WM. R. (Sculptor) .... 190 OHIO RIVER, 68, 78 87, 95, 127 131, 132, 133, 145 OHIO PYLE, PA 91 121 O'NEIL, JOHN, (Private soldier under Washington) 195 OPEQUON CREEK VA 49 ORANGE COUNTY, VA 53 'ORCHARD CAMP' OF BRADDOCK, 123 'ORGANIZED LABOR, Comments re- garding 157-8 ORISKANY. Battle of 194 OTIS, JAMES 147 OVERPECK CREEK, N. J 253 P. PAINE, THOMAS 199-225 PARKER CAPTAIN (of Mass. Militia), 171 PATTERSON'S CREEK 112 PATTERSON, COL. (British Adjutant) confers with Washington (1776) 213 PASSAIC, N. J. (Ancient Acquackarionk) 256-261 The Modern City 260-261 River 259-260-300 PASSAIC PARK, N. J 261 PEALE, CHAS WILSON (Artist), 78- 200 Rembrandt (Artist) 156 PEEKSKILL. N. Y 242 PELHAM BAY. N. Y 234 PENDLETON, EDMUND (of Virginia) 159 PENX, JOHN (N C. Signer of Declara- tion) 202 PENNSYLVANIA, (as a Colony) .... 127-8 ....(Railroad) 128-129 FKNSION DEPARTMENT (of the U. S.), 194 PERCY, EARL (British Officer) .... 217 Personalitv of Washington, 94, 146, 153 19o-4 Apptarance of Washington 146 PHILADELPHIA, PA., 125, Vz7, 155 to 160. 272, 282 Washington at 155-159 Troop of Light Horse' 276 ■PHILIPSE MANOR', Yonkers, N. Y., 138-139 Fridirick 139 Mary (friend o, Washington), 128-139, 140, 228 Physical Qualiflcation.s of Washington, 40- 42 'PINE GROVE', on the Rappahannock, 16, 33, 37 PITCAIRN, MAJOR, British Officer, 170. 176 PITTSBURG, PA.. 77, 93, 94, 95, 129, 131 to 133, 145.6 PITT, PORT 132 PLUCKEMIN, N. J 29,:! Political Career of Washington, 134, 135 POMEROY, GEN. SETH 179 POOR. GEN. ENOCH 256-258-260 POPE'S CREEK, MD 20 POPES CREEK, VA.. Birthplace of Wash- ington 17 to 30 PORT CHESTER. N. Y 239 PORTER, JEAN STRATTON, Novelist, 87 POST, JOHN H. of Passaic N. J., 260-1 POTOMAC RIVER 20. 21, 45, 108 'Preparation', Washington's habit of, 161 PRESCOTT, COL. (Am. Rev. Officer), 178-179-180, 192 PRINCETON. N. J., 265-267-268-271-282 290 to 299 Battle of , 285 to 292 Stony Brook 285. 289 Mercer Bridge 285-289 Quaker Meeting House 286, 289 V/i/'er Bridge 288 Wash'ngton's heroism 287-8 '•Clark's House" 289-291-292 "Nassau Hall" .... 291-293-4, 295, 297 Graveyard 295-296 "Washington's Spring" 292-3 The University of 292 293 PRIVATE SOLDIER IN THE REVOLU- TION (The) 193-195 PROVIDENCE, R. 1 198 PUTNAM, GEN ISRAEL. 179-198-217, 222-3 233 244 PHILADELPHIA, PA. Independence Hall 200. 201 Q. QUEBEC. Canada, References to, 145, 186 R. RAHL, COL JOHANN G. (At Trenton), 276-7 RAPPAHANNOCK RIVER. 18, 30, 33, 39. 43, 138 RARITAN RIVER, N. J 259-265 •RAYSTOWN', PA 128, 129, 131 VI INDEX READ, GEORGE (Delaware signer of 'Declaration') 201 Real Estate Speculations of Washington, 53, 105 REDSTONE, FORT 100 REED, GENERAL JAS 179-233 REVERE, PAUL 169, 170 Revolutionary Descendants, Societies of, 194 RHIND, MASSEY, Sculptor 263 RICHMOND, VA 66, 150, 152 RIVER EDGE, (Bergen Co.) N. J., 255, 256 ROANOKE, VA 49 ROBINSON, JOHN, (Speaker of Vir- ginia Assembly) 142 ROOSEVELT. THEODORE 26, 152, 232 ROXBURY, MASS (Suburb of Boston), 197 ROYALISTS IN THE REVOLUTION, 187-209 RUTLEDGE, EDW. (of South Carolina), 153-222 ST, JOHN, CANADA 185 ST. JOHN'S CHURCH, RICHMOND, VA., 150 ST. PAUL'S CHURCH, N. Y. City ST. PIERRE, French Commandant, 84, 96 SALT LICK, PA 116 SALT MEADOWS OF N. J 253-4 SAMPLES TAVERN, Pittsburg 145 SCHELLSBURG, PA 129 School davs of Washington 34 to 43 SCOTCH "PLAINS, N. J 264 SCHUYLER, GEN. PHILIP .... 162, 270 Fort (N. Y.) 233-4 "Self Education" 297 SHARPE, GOV. (of Penn) 109 •SHAWNEE VILLAGE', on Forbes' Road, 129 SHENANDOAH VALLEY, 44, 47, 48, 49, 50, 57, 58. 126 SHERIDAN, GEN. 'PHIL', references to, 49, 48 SHERMAN, ROGER, (Conn, signer of 'Declaration') 147-202 SHIPPENSBURG. PA 128 SHIRLEY, GOVERNOR (of Mass) .... 126 'SIGNERS' of the 'Declaration', the, 202- 295 SINCLAIR, SIR JOHN 112, 129 SOMERFIELD. PA 124 SOMERSET COUNTY, PA 89, 129 N. J 299 SPARKS. JARED (Biographer of Wash- ington) 187 SPOTTSWOOD, GOVERNOR (of Vir- ginia) 149 SPRINGFIELD, N. J 264 ST.VFFORD COUNTY, VA. 33, 43 STARK, GEN. JOHN 179-190 STATEN ISLAND, N. Y.. 203-204-207 to 210 (Washinyton at) 207 8 l^a'lor's Snu(/ Harbor 210 'STEWART'S CROSSINGS', PA., 89, 93, 94 145 STEUBEN. BARON F. W. A 194 STIRLING. GEN. WILLIAM ALEX- ANDER ('Lord) 217-8-301 STOCKTON, RICHARD (N. J. signer of 'Declaration') 202 STONY POINT (On Hudson) 242 STOYSTOWN, PA 129 STRATTON, ME 186 STUART, GILBERT, (Painter of Wash- ington) 156 'SULGRAVE MANOR', English home of Washington's Ancestors 22 SULLIVAN, GEN. JOHN, 217-218-270- 274 SUMNER, CHARLES 168 SURVEYING DAYS OF WASHINGTON, 39, 46, 48, 53, 58, 66, 68, 145 SYRACUSE, UNIVERSITY OF 293 T. TALLEYRAND (Napoleon's Mini-ster), 187 TAPPAN ZEE, N. Y. (Haverstraw Bay). 212 TARKINGTON, BOOTH, references to, 137 TARLETON, COL. BANASTRE (British Officer) 66 TAYLOR, PRES. ZACHARY 123 TAYLORVILLE, PA 272-3 THOREAU, HENRY D 174-177 THROG'S NECK, N. Y 232 to 235 TICONDEROGA, FORT 185 TOTTEN, FORT, (N. Y.) 233 TOTTEXVILLE, Staten Island 209 (BiUoi> House) 210-222 TRENTON, N. J 267-268 269-292-3 Washjif/tons Victory at. .... 274 to 284 Batttf Monumi'nt 275-6 As.mnpink Cnu-k 276-282 to 285 St. Marys Cathedral 276-8 Old Barracks 278-9 1st Presbyterian Church ........ 277-284 House of ijLndrrw Douglass 283 TRYON, WILLIAM, (British Governor of N. Y.) 204, 208 TUPPER, LIEUT. BENJ., (N. Y. Naval leader. 1776) 205 TURTLE CREEK. PA 115 TYLER. JOHN, (Pres. of U. S.) 81 U. UNIONTOWN, PA 91, 92, 102 LTnitarianism, notes concerning 177 UNITY CHURCH PA 129 UTRECHT, N. Y. (Long Iland), 214- 216 V. VALLEY FORGE, PA 192 VAN BRAMM. JACOB 83 VEALTOWN, N. J. (Bernardsville) .... 301 VENANGO, PA 84, 133 'Fort Venango' 84. 85, 95 VERNON, ADMIRAL 36, 39 VILLIERS, M. COULON DE (French Of- ficer) 104 VIRGINIA, Assembly 134-142-149 Colonial Architecture 82 Colonial Council .... 46. f 7. 69 78, 102 Colonial Capitol at Widiamshuro, 82, 142, 148-9 Colonial Troops 124. 125, 126 In Pre-Revolutionarii fcrnunt, 148 to 154 'Bill of Rights' 149 Revolutionary h'story 192 MountaineI\E GROVE'. WASHIXGTOX'S BOYHOOD HOME ON THE RAPPA- HANKOCX, OPPOSITE FREDERICKSBURG, VIRGINIA / 1 1 HE birthplace of Washington is so far removefl from \y the beaten track that very few indeed, save the most ardent students of history, have sought and found it. The latter stages of the journey to this out-of-the-way spot, irrespective of the route selected, cannot be made by rail. "Wakefield", new merely the name of an historic site, lies some thirty-five miles out from Fredericksburg, Virginia, in an exceedingly sparsely settled section of Westmoreland County, and is — unfortunately — more difficult of access than any of the other localities made memorable by the great name of "the father of his country". This, without doubt, is the reason for the meagre descriptions given, even in our best histories, and the paucity of available material to be found by the inciuiring reader. To state the fact that ''Washington was born near Pope's Creek on the Potomac", is far easier than to actually visit the remote corner of Vir- ginia where, beside the great river, the infant 'Cincinnatus' first saw the light of dav. 18 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS Yet perhaps it is just as well that we are beset by initial difficulties, and must, of necessity, penetrate into the by- ways and hedges of the 'Old Dominion' at the outset. We cannot know Washington without knowing Virginia; so let us attempt no dis-association of the man and his environs, but rather — conforming to the eternal fitness of things — follow 'in his footsteps' wherever they may lead. Thus di- rected, we shall journey in the hours of early morning to the pleasant glades of the ancestral estate — fragrant with the balm of ancient cedars — where the child of great promise was born; and, under the noonday sun, visit sleepy York- town — where our hero stood at the zenith of his career, dictating terms to the vanquished Cornwallis. Finally too, after the tale of an eventful life has been told, we must come again to Virginia to end our pilgrimage — in the hush of twilight to cast anchor upon the broad and silent Potomac 'neath Mount Vernon's shadows. — for here the 'greatest of the Americans' reposes in dreamless sleep. Our recompense will prove to be four-fold: the glorious sunshine of Vir- ginia, the aristocratic hospitality of the Southland, the charm of an ever-present background of history, and an inti- mate acquaintance with the personal Washington. All things considered, northern Virginia is a region richer in colonial lore and historic significance than any other locality of similar extent in the entire country. Be- ginning here our quest for 'Washingtonia', we find a wide field for investigation — offering a wealth of material coupled with rare privileges of research — and backed by enough of corroborative evidence to make us sure of our footing. Around the quaint old town of Fredericksburg center most of the episodes of Washington's boyhood, and it is just possible to motor from this place to 'Wakefield' and return within the limits of a day, provided the roads are in ordinary condition, which — heaven knows — is wretched enough. The route leads back over the Rappahannock into the peninsula lying south of the Potomac, and by some the trip THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 19 would be considered tedious in the extreme. In early spring-time however, when nature is beginnmg to blossom forth, the visitor from New England — where the winds of March still whistle — will experience a joyous thrill in be- holding the bless- ing of returning ' verdure. The ! birds blithely I twittering, the; peach trees bud- ding rosy pink, a touch of yellow here and there among the ever- greens on the hil- locks — with an oc- casional log cabin reminiscent o f pioneer day.s — all these impart that delightful rejuvi- nation w h i c h comes with changing scenes and seasons. But unless you have made Fredericksburg a base of operations for other expeditions, I would not recommend that route to 'Wake- held'. The better course, as I found by experience, is to travel by motor 'bus from Washington City to Morgantown, Maryland; thence across the Potomac to Colonial Beach, — now quite a popular Virginia pleasure resort — and then, for the last lap of the journey, to engage a private machine to convey you around the bend in the river to Pope's Creek. The story of my own wanderings in search of 'the birth- place' may. perhaps, serve as a warning to others. There ^ii^Wi^*- •WAKEFIKLl). l-OPE « CKKKK. VIUUIMA —MONUMENT AT WASHINGTON'S BIRTHPLACE — A few rods behind the tall'obelisk flows the charming little stream which has given its name to the locality. 20 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS happens to be a place by the name of Pope's Creek in INIaiy- land also, and I — in my ignorance — presumed that it lay somewhere nearly opposite the historic spot on the Virginia shore. In consequence, I found myself stranded late one evening in the wrong Pope's Creek, a miserable collection of negro hovels destitute of any white man's habitation, and from which God-forsaken place there was no means of de- parture until the morning. Fortunately I obtained shelter and supper in the humble home of a kindly disposed fisher- man half a mile beyond the 'town'; my host proving to be a devout and straight-forward old gentleman, blessed with a v.-ife who was an excellent cook and a charming little daugh- ter of twelve or thirteen who was the embodiment of candor and friendliness. After 'famly prayers' they sent me up to bed in the attic, very early and in good old-fashioned style, candle in hand. It proved to be one of those ancient and musty old garrets such as may be found in all frame houses built a century or so ago ; the night was warm and the mos- quitoes active. In consequence, I was up and out of doors at daybreak, and before the breakfast call had enjoyed an hour's digging in an Indian shell heap on the bluff overlook- ing the river — an archeological treat to one unfamiliar with this section of the country. Then came another unique ex- perience. The mail-boat, which is the only means of public transportation down the river, was not due until mid-day, and I improved the inten-ening hours by adding to my scanty knowledge of 'crabbing' ; rather hampering, I fear, than assisting my host. It must be admitted that a morning spent in a ponderous old row-boat, bobbing about on the choppy Potomac, scooping struggling Crustacea from a fif- teen-hundred-foot line baited with salted eel, was an episode somewhat foreign to my historic quest, yet I blessed the Lord for leading me astray. A reference to the map on the following page will show my readers where I went wrong. Colonial Beach is fully ten miles below Pope's Creek, Maryland. But the trip down THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 21 the river is delightful, and at the 'beach', which is really a good substitute for a seaside resort, there is excellent bath- ing, hotel accommodation, and a sort of 'codfish aristocracy' who bask in an atmosphere more eccncmical than that of At- lantic City, even if n.ot quite so salubri- ous. I have gone thus into detail regarding the m a n n e r of reaching the true Pope's Creek, be- cause so few people, even in Washington o r Fredericksburg, can give the tourist intelligent dire c- tions as to how to reach the birthplace cf the 'first charac- ter' in American history. It is in- deed a matter of surprise that regu- lar 'all water' excur- sions are not run di- rect from the capi- tal to 'Wakefield', for even those who sunnner at Colonial Beach rarely take the trouble to traverse the few miles of woodland road which separate them from the old family estate of the Washingtons. One drawback for these who would like to row or sail down from the 'beach' is the absence of all dock- ing facilities at Wakefield ; the Potomac is rather rough for canoeists, and the river approach by boats other than those of light draught, is impossible. Even the highway makes a FOR THE GUIDANCE OF OTHERS WHO MAY BE IN- QUEST OF -THE BIRTHPLACE' 90 THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS circuitous detour, avoiding the marshes along the shore, and the two small runlets, Pope's and Bridge's Creeks, which meander through the adjacent meadows. A small portion of the once extensive '\Vai>:efield' estate is now a government reservation. This, of course, is the immediate site of the ancient hcmestead of the Washington family, a bit of slightly rising ground near the junction of the sluggish Pope's Creek with the great tidal river. The neighboring farms and plantations are unpretentious, and the only spot of interest along the way is the birthplace of President James Monroe. h^^^ ,^^1, ;• y^ ^j ^^F m ^^Hb --■'^•'^u/ :^\j Y m J 1 Bl^^^'" - ''"Wje. [^ '," ^-•s mK( m B^b^Pk ^V"-- ^ffl^ ji.»- ^ii ^^Btf -%.\ s w. ^^^9 t i^N^^'nishment a t my audacity in making him an example. In self- defense I can only say that, if he is willing to pay the price of success, (which is hard work coupled with everlasting optimis7n) he will, without a doubt, 'make good' and amply justify the high regard which prompts this startling com- parison. Washington's pre-arranged education, was completed during his sixteenth year. It is a fact that the modern boy of twelve has a wider fund of 'book knowledge' than did he; but Washington, with eyes open to the wonderful work- THE STORY OF THE KNIFE. This little pocket knife, which the General carried on his person for many years, is now carefully preserved in the Masonic Lodge Room at Alexandria. It is said to have bo^en presented to young Washington by his mother as a token of her appreciation for his willingness to fore- go the experiences of a sailor in deference to her wishes. "Always obey" said she, as she bestowed the gift. Years later, when Washington, during the Valley Forge winter, was on the point of resigning his commis- sion and allowing the vacillating members of Congress to continue in their ruinous course of neglect and suffer the consequences, he was reminded by General Knox, who knew the story of the knife, of the supreme duty of nbedicnce. Sworn as he was to 'obey' the orders of Con- gress, the words of is.nox caused him to reconsider his determination. He decided to 'stick to his job' and tight it out as best he could with thi- help of God and of his faithful soldiers. THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 43 ings of nature, and a familiarity with the details of the life of a frontier planter, had acquired a solid and excellent founda- tion, upon which — during later years — he built a superstruc- ture in keeping with the ever-increasing requirements of his military and political career. He seems to have continued in steady adherence to a program of mental expansion throughout his life, although I question whether he ever possessed the versatility and heavy mental calibre of Jeffer- son or Franklin. Grackially, as we shall see, he developed into a keen, hard-headed business man, a careful and reso- lute soldier, and an astute and fai -seeing politician. In all probability the youthful aspirations of Washing- ton were somewhat at variance with the plans of his ultra- conservative mother. We know that about the time of his quitting the academy he cherished a burning desire to go to sea. Stafford County was a region of plantations, and the Potomac farms yielded rich crops of tobacco, much in de- mand abroad. Then as now the Rappahannock was naviga- ble, and to the old city wharf at Fredericksburg came occa- sional small ships from over the ocean to discharge an end- less variety of foreign merchandise and to re-load with the raw material of the colony. Small wonder then that the lure of the open sea took strong hold on the boy and he enthused over the superiority of a 'life on the rolling deep' rather than the peaceful pursuits of husbandry. The prospect of joining the King's navy looked mightily attractive to the country lad; indeed preparations were actually made for his speedy departure. At the last mo- ment, however, Mrs. Washington interposed most decidedly, and the boy reluctantly agreed to give up the idea, although well-nigh broken hearted at the collapse of his fondly laid plans. But ere long other duties and opportunities came his way, serving to divert his thoughts into more practical chan- nels. The immensities of the rugged wilderness lay just ahead although he knew it not, and quiet Fredericksburg, which had been the scene of his unfolding years, was soon to 44 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS be for him but a place of infrequent visitation — for old asso- ciations' sake and for his mothers'. In the autumn of 1747 he departed for Mount Vernon, where, for the next few years he continued to reside as a member of the household of his brother Lawrence. When the latter had married in 1743, the year in which his father passed away, he forthwith established a tie of closest relationship with another family very famous in the annals of the history of colonial Virginia, — the high-born 'Fairfaxes'. The aristocratic and powerful connections thus formed were destined to be the medium whereby the future father of the republic was to win his first public recognition and become fairly started on his way to fame and fortune. A singular old gentleman was 'the Right Hon- orable Thomas, Lord Fairfax, Baron of Camer- on', whose im- mense land hold- i n g s in the 'northern neck' of Virginia and the Shenandoah tt^ s «*.,'*''^*W EeP 'T3*«<-^l| ^^ V '^ mm i**>^--:- ai m ^ ^v^^i^^n:. 'Si r - m J^, . "^Mtf ^ ^ ISBsrss n W\ -.^ ililliilH It m One of the Main Roads over the Blue Ridge Mountains, east ; traversing a region well known to Washington i surveying days Valley were equivalent to a goodly sized old-world kingdom. This cultured English nobleman was a bachelor — crossed in love, they say — who came to America for the first time in 1739, to look over his inherited possessions on this side of the Atlantic. Deeply impressed with the attractiveness of his extensive estate, he determined to wind up his affairs in England, and in 1746, after saying 'good-bye' to the social whirl of London, he settled down permanently in Virginia with the avowed in- tention of spending the remainder of his life (destined to be lookinjj n his THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 45 a long one, for he survived until 1781 ) on the very frontier of civilization. We shall distinguish him as 'American Fair- fax number one', although in reality he was the sixtJi lord in his noble line of descent. 'Number two' in the Fairfax 'blue book' was Colonel William, a first cousin of the preceding, who had been sent to America by his lordship as early as 1734 to fill the lucra- tive yet responsible position of general overseer or agent, having entire charge of the extensive domain. Col. William Fairfax was, like his patron and relative, a refined gentle- man — a man of reputation and sterling worth. On arriving in Virginia he had taken up his residence in Westmoreland County where, it is probable, he first became acquainted with the Washingtons. Like them he soon moved up the Potomac, and built for himself the mansion of 'Belvoir' just across the Dogue Creek from the Epsewasson or IVlount Ver- non estate of Augustine Washington. A friendship of the most cordial nature existed between the two families; almost side by side their spacious manors overlooked the river, while their expanding plantations rivaled each other in efficient management and productiveness. Quite natural then that Lawrence Washington, home from the wars and seeking a congenial life-partner, should fall in love with Anne Fairfax. As we have noted, they were, in due course, united in the bonds of matrimony, and LawTence, establishing himself at the re-built JMount Vernon manse, had his good-natured father-in-law for a next-door-neighbor. The third Fairfax to figure in our chronicle is young George William, the colonel's son, who has found a place in history as a close friend of George Washington and the com- panion of his wilderness journeys. Their intimacy began, we may suppose, with the coming of the latter fi'om Fredericks- burg to Mount Vernon. Lawrence Washington was now busy with domestic affairs, and the fifteen-year-old graduate found a second companion with similar tastes and ambitions in the scion of the house of Belvoir, who must have been 46 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS ' BOOK o£ jSrUHVEYI BeJJJL JULY- 22- some five years his senior. I conjecture that the latch strings of both mansions were open to either cf the youthful planters, and very likely they were usually to be found in each other's company — 'next door'. It is to be regretted that Belvoir no longer remains. For forty years it was noted for its princely hospitality. Colonel Fairfax soon made himself a valued factor in the life of the neighborhood, and having become a Vir- ginian by adoption, took a keen interest in the re- ligious life of the parish and the political develop- ment of the community. Before many years we find him occupying the position of president of the Colonial Council; — smple evidence of his standing. To Belvoir, moreover, came Lord Thomas Fair- fax himself upon his defi- nite settlement in Vir- ginia, adding still further to the lustre of the Po- tomac mansion. Here he resided for two or three years until the completion of his own 'quarters' away cff in the unde- veloped wilderness, to which country-seat we shall later refer as 'Greenway Court'. The boy Lincoln used to say "I will study and get ready and, maybe, some day, my chance will come." This is just about what transpired in the case of George Washington. The subject which had most interested him at Mr. Williams' academy was that of land surveying: truly an important matter in those pioneer days. Already he had made many Title page to one of Washington's books of Surveys THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 47 private surveys around about Fredericksburg, a record of which he carefully preserved in a series of well arranged 'field books'. His youthful diagrams, seme of which are still extant, exhibit a great amount of painstaking care, proving that he enjoyed the work and prided himself upon its thoroughness. After becoming a member i;f the Mount Vernon family he continued to perfect himself in his favorite vocational work, and while we cannot determine whether he had fully decided upon surveying as his life's occupation, we do knnw that he entered into it heart and soui. The busi- ness of surveying in those days was no sinecure, but it was rather a lucrative calling, and indeed one for which Wash- ington was exceptionally fitted by his mental and physical qualifications. The all-hnportant matter of 'getting a start' is usually a period of bitter disillusion for the ycung man entering the business or professional world, but in the case of George Washington, fortune was apparently in his favor. A splendid opportunity came his way, and he — being prepared — seized it and 'made good'. Lord Fairfax, finding himself duly settled at last in his practically undefined domain, determined to ascertain the precise extent and character thereof. So he fixed upon the alert boy of sixteen, whose application and proficiency he had already noted, as one well qualified to accompany his young kinsman, George William Fairfax, on an expedition of investigation into the backwoods of the Shenandoah Valley. This "Journey over the Mountains," as Washington has called it, was his first great adventure, and it marks the be- ginning of his career. It enabled him to prove his worth, for not only did he demonstrate that he was a capable sur- veyor, but that he could act upon his own initiative if need be, and use good judgment. The trip covered a month of unprecedented activity. From March 11th until the 13th of April, 1748, the 'two Georges' — accompanied by but a few assistants — were con- 48 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS tinually 'on the go'; some days covering as many as forty miles across country, on other occasions clambering about in the rain and wind, through bog and over precipice, in the prosecution of their work of mapping out the wilderness. Washington's own interesting account furnishes a fairly complete narrative of his experiences. His wording is quaint, once-in-a- while the spelling is original — but his brief de- scriptions are fully expressive, as — for example, his recital of the woes and annoyances incident to the third night spent by the party amid the mountains. They had alighted at the cabin of a squatter, and, in anticipation of a good night's rest, George had carefully disrobed and clambered into bed. Then, to his disgust, he found it to be nothing but a meagre pallet of straw, covered with a thread-bare blanket thickly infested with vermin. This was too much for the fastidious youth fresh from the eider-down of Mount Vernon, wlio a>'ose in haste, donned his raiment, and selected the softest corner of the floor. He was destined, however, to become very well seasoned before the conclusion of the journey. The territory covered by these first surveys was that legion where to-day the twisted contours of Virginia. West Virginia- and Maryland seem to dove-tail. The workers appear to have gone as far north as Frederick, Maryland, and we know that they progressed for many miles down the 'South Fork' of the Shenandoah, through the wonderful country of the Blue Ridge. Altogether it was a rough trip. We find the trail-blazers camping out amid the solitudes of the wooded uplands, swimming their horses over swollen rivers, and seeking shelter from torrential rains beneath the dripping giants of the forest, — while Washington himself narrowly escaped cremation on one occasion when a sudden gust of wind, blowing embers from a smoldering fire, set his bedding ablaze. Washington's comments as recorded in the 'journal" well reveal the mixed characteristics of the boy and the man. each uppermost in turn. We find him mischievous enough THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 49 to experience delight in the fantastic dances of a wandering band of redskins, whose quondam gravity had given place to a series of ludicrous antics as the result of generous pota- tions of the Fairfax 'fire-water'. Again, we read his sage comments regarding the benighted condition of the ignorant backwoodsmen and their families (the progenitors of the 'poor white trash' of to-day) whom he re- gards as far inferior to the Indians. The Valley of the Shenandoah is a re- gion made memor- able not merely by the youthful ex- ploits of Washing- ton, but by the Civil War movements of Sheridan, Lew Wal- lace and Jubal Early. In our day two nearly parallel rail- ways traverse this delightful Valley of Virginia'; the Nor- folk and Western following quite closely the windings of the 'South Fork'. Mile after mile, from Winchester to Roanoke, there stretches on either hand a seemingly endless succession of wild and rugged cone-like peaks ; one town along the line being aptly named 'Vesuvius'. At no point is the plain of such width that both ridges of the hilly barriers may not be seen on either hand, although at times they are separated by a greater distance than one might imagine. In the fast- nesses of these mountains there still lurk a few brown bears, and considerable 'moonshine' whiskey continues to flourish despite the vigilance of deputy sheriffs and prohibitionists. Neither the laws of God nor man mean much to the Virginia mountaineers; their haunts are as much out of reach and their byways as little known now as were these same un- trodden hills in the days of Lord Fairfax. 'J'he Railway Bridge over Opequon Creek, near Winchester, Va., another neighborhood familiar to the youthful Washington 50 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS A PICTURESQUE BEND IX THE SHENANDOAH But the intervening valleys are populous and well culti- vated, beautiful in the extreme, fertile and abunt'.antly- watered, with a few manufacturing establishments now tail- ing root here and there. Certain favored spots in the hills, by reason of mineral springs or other health-giving assets. have grown into high-class vacation resorts and year-round sanatoriums, adding to the general prosperity and attractive- ness of the region ; and — were Lord Fairfax to come back to claim his own, he would probably have every reason to be satisfied. That there are treasures beneath the hills of Fairfax- land, as yet but fragmentarily explored, every traveler who has visited this locality will attest. I refer to the wonderful subterranean caverns which at Luray and 'Grottoes' have been opened to the public. In this respect we have the ad- vantage of Washington, for of their existence he was abso- lutely unaware. I did not visit the caves at 'Grottoes', although I noticed a line up of saddled horses tethered beside the depot in read- THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 51 iiiess to transport parties of tourists to the foot of the distant hills. At Luray where I left the train, the hotel omnibus waits to convey visitors to a good old Virginia dinner, after which, be it day or night, they may journey out to the caverns and 'go below' into an Alladin's wonderland of crystal — a fairy world of glittering stalactite. A series of limestone caves of vast extent underlies the outskirts of the town. Fully three miles of underground gal- leries and passages, lavishly decorated by the solidified drip- pings of ages — which have taken to themselves the forms of columns and images, festoons and draperies- — delight the eye of the astonished beholder. These spacious halls of silence are filled with strange likenesses in stone ; — fashioned by the hand of Nature — seme of them in forms almost human and recognizable, others in semblance unlike anything ever seen "upon the earth, in the sky above, or in the waters under the earth". It is quite evident that at one time a great deluge of water did indeed surge through these awesome chambers of night. When first discovered, in 1878, the explorers found it necessary to use a boat in order to penetrate into the farther recesses of the caverns; now they are dry for the most part, except of course an imperceptible filtration from above, and a few deep springs, where water clear as crystal bubbles up from some unknown source in the bowels of the earth. These transparent wells of gi'eat depth possess a peculiar fascination. Most of the natural calcite formations remain perfect as when first discovered, others are slowly building year by year, while two or three fallen monoliths remind us of the prehistoric subterranean flood which under- mined them. Unlike the artificial catacombs of Rome, the air in these vaulted chambers is not frigidly cold, although some sections lie three hundred feet and more beneath the surface of the earth; and a 'personally conducted tour' through the elec- trically lighted labyrinth is a pleasing and bewildering ex- perience. The agreeable old gentleman who usually pilots 52 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS the visitors knows every foot of the way, yet he takes the precaution of carrying a lighted lantern, lest, by any mis- chance, a fuse should 'blow out' or something go wrong with the illuminating system. He is a devout moralist, and at every possible opportunity works into his explanatory lecture a little sermon for the spiritual up-building of his hearers. He is so courteous and evidently sincere, however, that we pardon the cant and respect him for his good inten- tions. The Luray Caverns are indeed superbly wonderful, like an antechamber to the unfathomable abyss of Pluto's realm. The percolating water, with its peculiar mineral admixture, working through the thickness of the solid rock above, is slowly — very slowly — still continuing to build the great 'stone icicles', atom by atom. The dis- tant lights shining through their lace- like tracery reveal every color-shade of coral, yellow and brown; the forma- tions resembling va- riegated onyx or amber-agate, in composition being brittle and metallic. There is but one 'human touch' in all this beautiful underworld of stone. Away down in a deep pit, half im- bedded in a growing stalagmite, are to be seen the remains of a skeleton, the bones of a boy— so scientists have said — about fourteen years old ! Calculating the number of years requisite to form this stony shroud, it is estimated that fullv five centuries must have elapsed since their entombment. i\ THK c.vvp:kxs of i.i i:v^ THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 53 How came they here? Surely a mystery with but one logical solution. It is conjectured that some aboriginal lad while roaming through the forest above, — possibly hunting — ven- tured incautiously into a treacherous hole in pursuit of his quarry, and, stumbling around in the darkness, was precipi- tated into these cavernous depths; an underground whirl- pool, maybe, depositing his body in the recess where the bones were found centuries later and remain to this day. The very thought of such a grewsome tragedy sends a shiver down the spine of the most hardened visitor. All things considered, the Luray Caverns in themselves justify a pilgrimage to the valley of the Shenandoah. To the habitual tourist who has become surfeited with the 'wonders of the world' they offer a delightful novelty; and the student of historic lore — who wishes for the moment to turn aside from an analysis of men and their finite accom- lilishments — will find therein an opportunity for thoughtful and reverent contemplation upon the handiwork of 'The Great Incomprehensible'. But to 'get back to earth'. Washington, having ably accomplished his initial enterprise, and having done his work in a manner highly satisfactory to his employer, was soon called upon to execute similar surveys for other wealthy land-owners. Thus he was engaged for the next two years and a half. - * In the summer of 1749 he obtained the appointment of public surveyor for Orange County, a position carrying with it an annuity of about one hundred pounds sterling, — quite a considerable income for a young man in those days when ready money was a scarce article in the colonies. Washington seems always to have been of a thrifty disposi- tion and prudent in his expenditures ; one who knew how to make his earnings count. Land was then more plentiful than cash, and there were many choice bargains in real estate to be had. Of the desirability of these investments young Washington, by reason of his surveying operations, soon be- 54 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS came an excellent judge. Having unequaled opportunities for seeing the country, he was not slow in making shrewd purchases from time to time as his finances permitted. Thus he acquired several choice tracts of land for himself and also for his brother Lawrence, thereby laying the foundations of his inc'epenaent fortune. His subsequent field work led him still farther into the Blue Ridge and Allegheny mountains. In these boundless solitudes of his The 'joung surveyor' at work, and The 'Skyland' of the Blue Kidge Mountains native country he passed a long novitiate of hardship and exposure, yet came close to Nature in her grandest aspects, one day picking his way through dripping forests, the next reclining at eventide on some lonely slope watching the autumnal sun sink to rest behind the darkly silhouetted mountain-peaks. It would seem that these experiences, creative of moral courage and physical endurance, were the essentials necessary to the making of a man who was the pre-destined leader of men. Lord Fairfax continued to be his 'patron saint'. When that worthy baronet himself launched out into the wilder- ness and builded his rustic domicile of 'Greenway Court' on the very frontier but a few miles from Winchester, it was natural enough that Washington, ever welcome at the table THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 55 of his lordship, should frequently avail himself of the prof- fered hospitality. Some among the more mature cronies cf Lord Fairfax may have questioned his wisdom in placing such implicit confidence in a mere boy. Indeed the work which his honor delegated to his young friend from time to time was 'a man's job' saddled upon a stripling. It may be that Fairfax him- self was, at the outset, somewhat dubious as to the outcome, but I fancy that he soon gauged the calibre of Washington with a nice degree of accuracy. I believe he realized what many men, unfortunately, fail to appreciate: that the achievements of youth are not to be despised. The boy in his 'teens measures, quite often, fully up to the standards of a man, minus only the keen judgment which comes in no other way than by bitter and dearly bought experience. And in the battle of life, — unless the man keeps pace with pass- ing years by an ever-widening vision, seeing its opportunities through the full-open lens of youth, — the youngster will invariably have the advantage of him because of his ever- lasting optimism. Even admitting the fact that 'Vouth is a delusion, maturity a struggle and old age a regret", let us continue to live in the blessed delusion. Purpose and a con- genial life-work will make the struggle a joyous one, and knock out the regret. 'Greenway Court' seems to have been a favorite base of operations for young Washington, and here, as a temporary member of the Fairfax establishment, he resided off and on for a considerable period. There can be no doubt as to the pleasure and profit he derived from his continued associa- tion with the erratic old nobleman. The intervals of relaxa- tion between his rigorous expeditions were times of genuine luxury. Though far removed from the comforts and culture of city life, 'Greenway Court" had literally been made suf- ficient unto itself. The refined taste of its owner naturally demanded the best of everything. There were books galore, London periodicals -with more or less frequency, -fine furni- 56 THE YOITTH IN THE WILDERNESS ture, (much of which was later acquired by Washington when master of Mount Vernon) — art treasures; in fact, all that the heart could wish to make life enjoyable and to while away the long evenings. From Washington's correspondence during these months we gather that he frequently accompanied his lordly patron upon fishing and hunting trips. It is evident that the latter LORD FAIRFAX, AND HIS 'OFFICE' AT GRI-:p:X\VAY COURT, Still existing near White Post, Virginia took a lively interest in his protege, while undoubtedly Washington made himself exceedingly companionable. His 'bringing up' had been such as to fit him well for the ways of 'genteel society'; he always appreciated 'class', and knew how to be deferential and respectful to those of superior station and greater age. These are the things which appeal strongly to aristocratic old folks, and it cannot be wondered that Washington, careful in his work and attentively cour- THE YOl TH IN THE WILDERNESS 57 tecus in his personal intercourse with Lord Fairfax, made a very favorable impression to say the least. LTnquestionably this intimacy with one familiar with history and wise in the ways of the world did much toward the mental making cf Washington. It is interesting to recall that he always retained the high regard of Lord Fairfax, al- though their intimacy ended and their ways parted with the leginning of the Revolution, — Fairfax remaining loyal to the Crown until the final capitulation at Yorktown. Then, aged and disheartened, his desire for life gave place to deepest chagrin at the turn affairs had taken. He tcok to his bed in disgust and ere long passed away. But he was then past ninety and surely he had had little to complain of; his life had been long and eventful, and the rough places in the way had been smoothed by abundant means. Yet Lord Fairfax deserves the grateful remembrance of the American people if for no other reason than that he was the patron and benefactor of Washington. Washingtcn himself always Heeply realized his debt to the Fairfaxes, and through his efforts much of their property was subsequently saved frc m the general penalty of confiscation which fell upon all who had adherred to Great Britain during the struggle for inde- y^ pendence. It seems difficult to realize now that all cf the upper section of the Shenandoah valley was once 'Fairfax Land'. Bit by bit it has been cut up into small subdivisions ; the old family has become well nigh extinct, and to-day, so I am in- formed, not one acre remains in the possession of anyone bearing that historic name. Near the hamlet of White Post, Virginia, on the Norfolk and Western railway, may still be seen some scattered reminders of the 'Greenway Court' estate. Lord Fairfax' mansion, which was never much more than a series of spacious bungalows, has given place to a more modern farmhouse, which, standing back among the trees, is plainly visible from the passing trains. Much nearer the track is to be seen a small stone shantv, which is the 58 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS original 'office building' used by Washington himself. It was here that many cf his early charts and surveys were drawn up. This diminutive building is a genuinely historic landmark which ought to be carefully preserved. The little shack is illustrative of a most interesting epoch in his career ; for it is one of the very few structures which we can posi- tively associate with the activities of his youthful years. The very name 'White Post' is reminiscent of the Fair- fax regime. A painted post, which has been renewed many times, stands to-day at a point where Lord Fairfax set up a similar conspicuous marker almost two centuries ago to guide travelers to his domicile in the woods. This white posi at the crossroads which formerly indicated the way to 'Greenway Court' has now given its name to the community. During Washington's period of service under Lord Fair- fax, when he travelled up and down the hills and valleys cf Virginia, laden with level and transit, he became far more intimately acquainted with the wilderness than did his lord- ship himself. Truly remarkable opportunities for learning lessons directly from the bock of Nature were his. It was on one of his expeditions to the farther extremity cf the Shen- andoah Valley, where the James and North rivers meet, that he beheld for the first time the famous Natural Bridge, re- garded even to-day as one of the wonders of the world. An excursion to this widely advertised 'freak of nature' offers as fine a combination of the scenic and historic trip as heart could desire. Truth to tell, travel upon the railways of the south is somewhat slow, particularly was this so under the curtailed schedules of war-time, and the trip to Natural Bridge is a long one at best. Nevertheless the results ob- tained well repay for any inconvenience experienced en route to 'the heart of the Blue Ridge'. The Natural Bridge is situated within the boundaries of a privately owned reservation, the 'scenic privileges' being controlled by the management of the Natural Bridge Hotel. A kind of park has been created, embracing all the hills and THE Y(JI TH IN THE WILDERNESS 59 valleys in its immediate vicinity, through which drives and bridle-paths have been constructed in all directions. From the railway station, two miles distant, the omnibuses travel an up-hill road, each turn of the way disclosing an expand- ing panorama of hill succeeding hill. The far-away sum- mits, heavily wooded and clouded by increasing distance, be- come more and more deeply blue; until the traveler, enam- ored of the lovely prospect, cannot fail to appreciate that the long mountain ridge has been appropriately named. Perched high upon a little hilltop, amid the gloriously bracing atmosphere of the upland paradise, we find a great modern health and pleasure resort, which is frequented dur- ing both summer and winter. I can imagine no more de- lightful spot in which to spend a vacation for the benefit of jangled nerves or — which is more agreeable — a honeymoon. There are no snow-capped mountains here, cold and beauti- ful in the icy grandeur of death; it is rather a region of youth and hope, where heaven and earth are joined in ever- lasting wedlock with a golden ring of sunshine. It is a region where merely to live is a source cf unalloyed joy. It is God's own country. It is pleasant to remember that all this property once belonged to Thomas Jefferson, surely one above all others whose aesthetic soul could appreciate its beauty. Just before the Revolution it was given him by the royal grant of George the king. Monti- cello, his own country seat at Charlottesville, lies some fifty miles to the north-east, en the other side of the range. Jefferson in later years built a little cottage at Natural Bridge; with characteristic hospitality giving directions to his old negro custodian that one room was always to be re- Monticello, the home of .Jefferson, at Charlottesvil'e, Va. 60 THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS served for the entertainment of strangers. Somehow the great and palatial hotel of the present day seems to extend to the visitor much the same cordial welcome. There is a myriad of spacious balconies where one may lounge around and bask in the sunhine, the cuisine is excellent, and the stables are well stocked. If you are driven indoors by in- clement weather, which — I suppose — occasionally invades even so lovely a spot as this, you will find a great 'c o m f V -room', with books i n profusion, easy chairs galore, and one of those famous open fires before which to toast your toes in solid comfort. As to the fam- ous bridge itself, it is titanic in its proportions, ris- ing to a height of some 215 feet above the bed of C e d a r Creek, spanning the narrow canyon with a solid and the natural bridge l")onderous arch of stone forty feet in perpendicular thickness and one hundred feet in breadth. A public highway crosses the bridge, being the only means of passage for wagons with- in a mile distance either up or down stream. The creek, which for some distance has traversed a course between THE YOX^TH IN THE WILDERNESS 61 rocky slopes, here narrows down to a width of eighty or ninety feet as if to worm its way between the precipitous ledges of the deep gorge, while — far above — tlie natural roof. tree-grown and covered with straggling bushes, seems frown- ing ominously as if in continual warning of impending calamity. Jefferson was of the opinion that the view from this dizzy and dangerous parapet was "painful and intolerable", while that from below w^as "delightful in an equal extreme". Most visiters will be inclined to agree with him. The pathway to the foot of the bridge descends beside a tumbling brook, down a deep fissure in the mountain over- hung by grand old arbor-vitae trees, one of which has re- cently fallen across the stream. Turning down a flight of steps cut into the reck, the rambler soon finds himself beside the larger and swifter creek with the canyon walls rising ab- ruptly to the right and left of hun. The glen which borders the watercourse is green with shrubbery; violets are here — pale and modest — with some unfamiliar little flowers like tiny white crocuses, peeping out to catch the sun, which — when high in the meridian — penetrates into their sequestered haunt. So charming is nature under-foot that one forgets for a time to look aloft. Then of a sudden the happy song of a bobolink sounds startlingly near ; we raise our eyes and see, unexpected and astounding, the great bridge itself looming up scarcely fifty yards away. Bright with the glow of morn- ing, the eastern face of the giant monolith seems stupend- ously high, light and ethereal, while its great shadow, dark and forbidding, is cast far back and beyond among the rocks and trees of the upper canyon. Every visitor, doubtless, passes beneath the rugged span, fcr an easy trail runs beside the capricious and noisy stream. At one time this somewhat feeble rivulet may have been a raging river, at which distant age it might truly have required bridging; but now — like an aged man — it has lost its former vigor and fallen into the seventh age of decrepi- 62 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS tilde. The bridge, by comparison, has grown in mightiness with the subsidence of the waters, and the stranger, craning; his neck in open-mouthed admiration, gazes upward in as- tonished contemplation. Frcm the massive arch above tiny drops of water are constantly falling. The traveler as he' watches the silver drippings caught by the gentle breeze and carried far out of their perpendicular course, is prone to won- der when the great roof itself is going to drop, fervently hop- ing that this untoward event may not be hastened by his own intrusive presence. Washington, at the time of his visit to this amazing phenomenon, had not yet progressed so far upon the road to mimortality that he was above the ambition to win 'enduring' fame by the carving of initials in con- s p i c i u s and outlandish pla- ces. With a boy- like spirit of ad- venture, he is re- puted to have clambered, b y some means or other, high up the side of the rocky escarp- ment and there- on made h i s mark in letters bold and tall. Whether he revisited the spot in later life we do not know. I sought in vain for the initials 'G. W.' or the name 'GEORGE WASHINGTON', Said to be Still discernible about THE 'LACE WATERFALL NATURAL BRIDGE, VA. THE YOIT^H IN THE WILDERNESS 63 twenty-five feet above the bed of the stream on the west side. Indeed the walls of rock are seamed and fissured to such an extent that one imagines he sees many curiously carved letters aiid symbols, much abraded and weather- worn. But down near the path there are many more recent inscriptions which are clearly legible, a.mong others the name of Audubon, the famous naturalist, a truly great .man in his particular field of endeavor. Tradition has repeatedly affirmed tfiat the chiselings of Washington led all the rest; apparently he held the record, as it were, of being the most intrepid wall cli2nber. In 1818, however, this distinction was surrendered to James Piper of Washington College, who performed the daring — and what w^as long thought to be impossible — feat of climbhig from the foot cf the abutment to the top of the arch, an exploit so dangerous that no one has since made the mad attempt to repeat it. During the Revolutionary War the French organized two expeditions to visit this famous natural bridge. From their measurements and diagrams a picture was made in Paris which for fifty years or more was widely copied. Take up any old atlas and you will most likely find some sort of crude representation cf this singular bit of Nature's handi- v/ork. For this reason, I suppose, it has for most cf us the familiarity of an old acquaintance, and' its colossal outlines are pictured in the mind of every school-boy. Some geologists imagine that, long years ago, the entire formation beyond the bridge to the north was cave-like, with a subterranean river emerging to the light of day near the present arch. They conjecture that the 'roof of the cave crumbled, bit by bit, and that the present bridge remains the sole surviving fragment of a. great horizontal bed of lime- stone rock which covered the entire gorge, the stream itself working downwards through the eons of time — gradually en- larging and elongating its outlet. Additional bits of charming scenic beauty reward the 64 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS tourist who continues his wanderings up the glen to the farthest limits of the canyon, where the shimmering 'Lace Waterfall' tumbles down a rocky stairway, a mysterious lit- tle 'Lost River' emerges from the bowels of the mountain, and a. cavernous opening — known as the 'Saltpetre Mine' — yawns beneath the face of a towering rock. The latter site, during Civil War days, is said to have afforded a much needed ingredient in the process of powder-making for the hard-put Confederates; traces of the long-abandoned work- ings being still noticeable. More than likely, the pilgrim to Natural Bridge will seat himself beneath one of the rustic arbors in the glen and indite a few picture postals to the friends at heme, after v/hich he will saunter back to the hotel for luncheon, leaving his cards at the general store and post-office. If so, let him glance stealthily through the window of the 'post office' a moment after his supposed departure. He will probably see the postmaster, with spectacles balanced on the end of his nose, carefully perusing his missives before cancelling the stamps. This circumstance may call to mind another of those worthy admonitions committed to memory by the boy Washington: "Come not near the books or writings of any- one so as to read them — unless desired, also, look not nigh when another is writing a letter," Enough said. It is possible to continue the journey from Natural Bridge to the south and 'take in' further bits of historic ter- ritory which are intimately associated with the surveying days of Washington's career. To any of my readers who may care to follow the trail in this direction let me recom- mend the trip to Lynchburg, Va. In reality it is a ride along the upper reaches of the James River, which passes between rugged defiles of the Blue Ridge mountains. The scenery is superbly beautiful. The Chesepeake and Ohio Railway fol- lows for the most part the right of way of the long aband- oned James River and Kanawha Canal, traces of which — in the shape of ruined masonry and the remains of disused THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 65 locks — are seen at frequently recurring intervals between the tracks and the river. George Washington was the first president of the company operating this artificial waterway, and he it was who executed the preliminary surveys. Fringed with budding willows, venerable sycamores and a touch cf dark green laurel, the James passes through alter- nating farm and wilderness. Spring had come when I passed this way, and with it brought a wealth of pink blos- soms for the peach trees of the meadow-land and a ruddy violet tinge for the shrubbery which interspersed the ever- green hemlocks of the slopes. But the previous night had been a chilly backslider, and morning found a heavy frost ^ V ^''"'^'^'^^ttM Mi 4 ■ SET ~ ppetfS ■M g ^^ ■ m 1 ALONG THE JAMES RIVER, NORTH OF LYNCHBURG. clinging to the branches. Our conductor, much concerned lest the buds had been 'nipped', made it his business to in- vestigate, and — while the train was halted for a few mo- ments at an out-of-the-way water-tower, hopped over a fence into an orchard in order to ascertain for himself the extent of the damage. Little touches of 'local color' like this well illustrate the temperament cf the South. If you are seeking for bits of the unique, you will assuredly find them here. Few bridges span the James: instead, at recognized points 66 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS of crossing, you may see old flat-bottcined ferry boats for the convenience of pedestrians and vehicles; equipped with overhead wire ropes running from bank to bank to assist the boatsmen in stemming the rapidly flowing current. At the numerous little clearings in the hill-encircled valleys, old houses and white-washed log-cabins remind the traveler of those early settler days when the valley of the James and its tributaries was the common ground of Indian and pale- face. Now the family 'punt', propelled by means of long poles, has forever replaced the log canoe of the native sav- age, and the freckled-faced boy with his delightful drawl — who with hands thrust deeply into his pockets curiously watches the trains roll by — has dispossessed the dark- skinned followers of Powhattan. These out-of-the-way regions were tolerably well known to young Washington, who, in the course of his wilderness explorations, repeatedly followed the windings of the James. Neither is this locality devoid of Revolutionary history. When Cornwallis sought to over-run Virginia, little skirm- ishes covering a wide area took place between scattered bands of the opposing forces. Many an old house here- about could relate interesting yarns of patriot refugee and scouting dragoon. General Tarleton. particularly, loved to scour the country ; making the confiscation of any and every good saddle horse upon which he could lay hands a special and profitable 'side line'. Lynchburg, the city of to-day, W'hile interesting and en- terprising, has no bearing upon the story of Washington, and the traveler has the choice either of pushing on to Rich- mond, where he may pick up the thread of the story at a more advanced chapter, or of returning through the moun- tains back to the counties of Stafford and Fairfax to follow- in logical sequence the events which now come thick and fast in the biography of the young surveyor. During the period when George Washington had been earning his daily bread in the rough and ready routine of THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 67 the wilderness, his brother Lawrence had also been making- headway. Besides his work of developing the resources of Mount Vernon, he was now ably representing his constitu- ents in the Virginia House of Burgesses, giving considerable attention to military matters, and — incidentally — keeping his eyes open for an opportunity to advance the prospects of his younger brother when the time was ripe. As to young George Fairfax, he too had been improv- ing the opportunities, and had now become a man of family, having been unit- ed in marriage to a Tvliss Sally Cary of Williamsburg. George Washing- ton himself seems t o have enter- tained a high re- gard for the new- ly acquired life- partner of his friend. We know that he always re- garded M u n t Vernon as his home when not 'on the trail' or sojourning at 'Greenway Court'; and we also gather from contemporary history that he continued to be a frequent visitor at 'Bel- voir', being exceedingly popular with all the members of the Potomac household and the younger set of Fairfaxes. This friendship continued for many long years. Some writers have gone so far as to intimate that young Wash- ington himself would not have been averse to marrying the charming Sally. But though young Fairfax had captured the prize they continued to be fast friends. Long after the Revolution, when, through war's vicissitudes, Mrs. Fairfax was an expatriated resident in Great Britain, we find Presi- dent Washington still carrying on a cordial correspondence Old log cabin near Berryville. Va , used by Washington when in the service of Lord Fairfax THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS >vith her, casting back wistful thoughts to the times gone by forever. Young Washington soon came to be regarded with more than usual esteem, not merely by his intimate friends, with whom he was thrown in every-day contact, but by the king'"^; representative at Williamsburg. There shortly came lo him an appointment, bear the of :ng tne signature Governor Dinwiddle, which was well suited to his military propen- sities. In 1751 he w a s commissioned major of militia, be- ing one of four adju- tant generals, whose duties at the outset were practically those of high class recruiting officers. Aire a d y o m i n u s rumblings were heard from be- yond the Alleghenys, where the French were busily pushing their w^ay down the Ohio to the fertile lands of the Mississip- pi. Inevitably the riv- al influences must soon clash, and Virginia Lock hewn in solid rock under direction of George Wash- ington, at Great Falls, Va., — 14 miles above Washington City, on the line of the Great Falls and Old Dominion Railway. Among other engineering feats, he here built a canal around the falls of the Potomac. Of the three locks used in its construction, the one cut out of the rock is illustrated. was bestirring herself for an expected campaign in what was then the far W^est. For Washington the days of surveying were ended. While this appointment was merited, it is cjuite evi- dent that Washington was not wdthout considerable 'person- THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 69 al influence' at the seat of government. At this time his father's life-long friend. Colonel William Fairfax, was the presiding officer of the xA.ssembly, while young George Fair- fax and his brother Lawrence were both members of the same august body. Surely this particular clan of Virginia planters was well represented, and it seems only natural that, when the political 'plum tree' was to be shaken and favors were to be distributed, their promising young kinsman was possessed of sufficient 'backing' to secure recognition. The new responsibility, bestowed 'in the name of the Crown', was to Washington a highly prized distinction, for at this time, be it bcrne in mind, all Virginians were true and loyal British subjects. In order properly to "inspect and exercise the militia" he deemed it expedient to fit him- self for leadership. So, ere long, we see him receiving in- struction in military tactics and practicing the use of the sword with a pair of old swash-buckling soldiers of fortune, of whcm, at this time, there were many in Virginia. We also find the newly appointed major delving into the intric- acies of war with his usual spirit of wholeheartedness. While it may have been 'pull' which secured his appointment, he was nevertheless determined to give value; he wanted to be no mere inactive 'hanger on'. But unforeseen circumstances were destined once again temporarily to disconcert his plans, and the military epoch in his career was to be deferred yet a little while longer. Lawrence, although making a brave effort to keep in the harness, had for months realized that he was losing ground. The condition of his health — after years of disquieting symptoms — suddenly became alarmingly worse. Then, even as in our day, a 'change of climate' was believed to offer the possibility of 'saving grace' for those suffering from pulmon- ary affections, and for Lawrence — as a last resort — travel was prescribed. Quite naturally he turned to George for strength and companionship, and when Barbados was de- cided upon it was arranged that together they should sail 70 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS NATIVE HUT, BARBADOS from Virginia for the West Indies. They left in September of 1751. To-day steamers of almost transatlantic elegance make the run to this fertile and lovely tropical island in six days: then it was a matter of five weeks more or less, depending on wind and weather. It would seem that so protracted a voyage, tossed about on a small sailing vessel, would be a trying experience for an invalid; yet with hope of ultimate recovery for a stimulant almost anything is endurable. Whether George Washing- ton was a 'good sailor' we do not know ; he was at any rate experiencing a touch of the naval career which had — only a fews years previously, — been denied him, and, quite likely, he enjoyed the novelty, — for a time at least. Washington never visited Europe: this was his first and only journey beyond the shores of his native land. From the varied entries in the journal which he kept we cannot doubt that he saw all that w^as to be seen and jotted it down in his little book with the intention of profiting thereby. Barbados is truly a tiny world in itself, rich in the curious and unusual sights and scenes of a foreign clime; lying lazily in the sunshine of the tropic sea. It is much THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS 71 nearer South America than to our own continent, being close to Trinidad. The most southerly of the Windward Islands, Barbados lies upon the outer fringe of the Carib- bean archipelago. Few books of travel enlighten the reader as to this remote corner of the West Indies, to visit which it is necessary to skirt almost the entire group of the 'Lesser Antilles'. A short stop-over privilege is afforded by some of the United Fruit Company's tourist steamers, and Bridge- town, which is the only place of importance on the island, Hiidgetown Harbor, Barbados, showing wharf, pier lu:'.d and tiitrance to inner basin well deserves inspection. Yet not one in a thousand among the passengers who sit beneath the awnings of the great white ships, which at intervals enter the harbor, thinks of associating this palm-girt village with the eventful career of George Washington. The island has been in British possession since 1625; it has at present a population of something like 200,000, the larger portion of whom are negroes and mulattoes. In size it has nearly the proportions of the Isle of Wight, and is en- compassed by coral reefs, while its interior presents a wide variety of scenery — beautiful with fronded palms and radi- ant with the gaudy bird and insect life common to tropical regions. The climate is equable and free from miasma; for 72 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS this reason the physicians had entertained hopes that a brief residence here might be beneficial to Lawrence Washington ; and indeed it seemed at first that their expectations were likely to be realized. Somewhere upon the low hillsides near Bridgetown, which is pleasantly situated upon the open roadstead of Carlyle Bay, our wanderers succeeded in obtaining the lease of a commodious dwelling, although according to George's memorandum, they were forced to pay liberally for their accommodations. Fortunately there were many English- men of position then residing on the island, and most of them proved themselves exceedingly kind and hospitable to the young Virginians. Without stint the diary of the young- er of the travelers gives praise to their courtesy, and ex- presses admiration for the place of sojourn. Yet notwithstanding the pleasures incident to the social gatherings of the elite of Bridgetown — to which, by reason of their own standing, they were cordially welcomed; and the diversion afforded by occasional evenings at the theatre — where George, for the first time, witnessed a dramatic per- formance, — time soon began to drag heavily for the invalid and his companion. The enervating languor of the tropics often has a depressing effect upon those coming from a northern clime. I am told that a long-continued residence in the W^est Indies will, in a short time, transform a hust- ling New York businessman into a lethargic idler. Ambition does not seem to flourish in any equatorial region : it is for this reason, I suppose, that the really big things in the world of accomplishment come from the temperate zones, where a certain amount of physical discomfort goads us on to energetic effort. Young Washington himself marveled at the shiftless- ness displayed even by the better class of Barbadians. Him- self a disciple of thrift, he failed to understand why, in a country where nature was well nigh all-provident, there should be evidences of decay and financial embarrassment. THE YOUTH IX THE WILDERNESS 73 Yet the people of the island are to-tlay, and always have been, distinctly proud of their beautiful comer of the earth, and firmly believe that no place in the whole world can com- pare with it. Their hope is that at death heaven will be an- other Barbados. Shortly after the brothers had become settled in their temporary quarters George fell a victim to the small-pox, Broad Street, Bridgetown, and the Nelson monument, commemorating the visit of that distinguished Admiral in 1805 whereupon it was Lawrence's turn to play the part cf nurse, which, we may be quite sure, he did with the utmjst fideli- ty and solicitude. Owing to his devotion and the best of care and attention, the sufferer was up and around again after but three weeks on the ' sick list. His face, however, remained slightly pock-marked for the remainder of his life, but luckily not to such an ex- tent as to detract seriously from the good looks of his youth 74 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS or the dignity of his more mature years. The visitor to Barbados will find little that he can posi- tively link up with the short residence here of the Washing- tons. Twice since 1751 has Bridgetown been devastated by fire. Still, the panorama of sea and sky and gently ter- raced gardens which we see to-day, must be nearly the same as that which refreshed the eyes of the devoted comrades, while the roofs of the town as seen from the hillside, with the masts of the shipping in the harbor, are scarcely more numerous than of yore. At least one group of buildings is historic in view of the fact that they existed in the time of Washington ; — those comprising Codrington College, found- ed in 1741, and since then the leading educational institution on the island. Bridgetown, as the capital of Barbados, is the seat of the resident governor, and possesses at least two good hotels. Comfortably quartered at the old 'Marine' and making daily excursions into the interior, a week or more may be most enjoyably spent on the island. A longer residence would, I think, prove quite monotonous, unless one was permanently settled here with a complete family circle upon a rural estate away up in the hills. Of late, conditions have im- proved on the island, which now offers excellent commercial possibilities. The chief export, of course, is sugar. Fruits there are in abundance, and in the most delicious variety; the same perfection and flavor which so appealed to Wash- ington may be enjoyed to-day, for the island is a veritable garden spot. The sea bathing, too, is excellent. Yet fully to appreciate the charm of Barbados, one must penetrate into its jungles, where the cane huts, thatch-roofed and flimsy, shelter the purely native element of the inhabitants. In the town English names are everywhere in evidence. There is Tudor Street, for instance, quite a lively thorough- fare on a Saturday or market day ; while in Trafalgar Square we find a Nelson monument, commemorating a flying visit of the great admiral in 1805. Queen's Park affords a delight- THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS /o ful place of evening promenade for the townsfolk, while the luxurious Savannah Club may be accounted a present-day successor to the 'Beafsteak and Tripe' organization, about which young Washington waxed ekquent. From Mt. Hiila- by, the highest point of land on the island, practically the whole colony may be viewed in its entirety. But loneliness would make even paradise seem forlorn. Just as every traveler longs for absent dear ones and pines for home, so the thoughts of Lawrence Washington turned to Mount A^rnon. He soon determined to move a little nearer to the place of his heart's affections, so, in December, he dispatched George to Virginia with instructions to bring his young wife to rendezvous he pro- without any further The conclusion well known. George at the Potomac Bermuda, to which posed to proceed delay. of the chapter is Washington arrived homestead on the THE SAVAXXAH CLUB, BRIDGETOWX, BARBADOS first of February, 1752. Lawrence journeyed to Bermuda in March, but, despairing of ultimate recovery, he decided to utilize his remaining strength and push for home before the end. And so it came about that on the 26th of July, in the 34th year of his age, the first master of Mount Vernon passed out from the affairs of earth under his own beloved roof, attended to the borders of shadow-land by the brother whom he had idolized and the wife of his choice, who, for a 76 THE YOUTH IN THE WILDERNESS few short years had shared his sorrows and his joys. In keeping with the affectionate regard which had actuated him in all his relations with his brother, Lawrence stipulated in his will that George should continue to reside at Mount Vernon, as though confident, with such a strong protector at hand, that his widow and their little daughter might be se- cure in their possessions and peace of mind. And George Washington, now in his twenty-first year, — a man in age, intellect and integrity, proved true to his trust. OF THE Block House sti'.l standing at Pittgburgh, Pa. erected by Col. Henry Boquet, in 1764, on the site of old Fort Duquesne ^T'^HLS is to be a chapter of love and war, in both of which LV ^ all-absorbing games everything is fair. Herein we shall see our ''youth in the wilderness" develop into an ardent courtier and a redoubtable commander. Perhaps it were better to speak first of the sterner duties which filled the life of Washington from 1752 to the beginning of the Revolution, and then to touch more briefly upon the senti- mental and romantic 'side issues' which from time to time diverted his worship from the stoic shrine of Mars to the flower-bedecked altar of Venus. Washington participated in four separate and distinct expeditions over the mountains into the country of the French; at first in 1753, operating as a sort of confidential messenger; then actively engaging in the two disastrous military enterprises of 1754 and 1755; and finally, — three years later, — being co-leader with General Forbes in the last and successful attempt against the outposts of the enemy. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN As to his love affairs, there were at least three earnest attachments of which contemporary history has mac'.e men- tion and we are warranted in conjecturing that there were a score of other lia'.sons of secondar}^ and fleeting import- ance. Williamsburg was. naturally, the central point of \'ir- ginia's activities in the 'Seven Years War' against the Erench. Here Governor Dinwiddle resided, and here the provincial as:embly held its stated sittings. In 1753 the subject of French aggression on the frontier was upperm:st in the mind and conversation of her citi-ens. Both France and Britain laid claim to the Ohio Valley from the lal es to the Mississippi; the former by reason of the explorations cf La Salle, the latter because of coastal discovery and royal grants which were supposed to extend over and across the mountains. By 1750 the French, who v^^ere active in their determination to establish ownership by actual tenan- cy , had sprinkled a few settlers all the U"ay from Canada to Louisiana and were preparing to defend their claims by a chain of forts scattered alcng the 'boundary' from Niagara to the 'forks of the Ohio'. The mastery cf this river seems indeed to have been regarded by both the French and English leaders as the vital issue, up- on the maintenance of which they were equally determined. The attitude of the Indians in this international con- troversy which involved the partition of their rightful do- main was, to my mind, quite natural. While they 'took sides' from time to time as expediency dictated, they re- garded both of the contestants as quarrelsome intruders, and were quite willing to participate in any military opera- tions which gave promise of lessening the percentage of 'pale A Youthful I'ciiti.iit ul W .ivhii-gton It is clainKd that thib likeiuss was painted in 1777 by Charles Wilson Peak', but it portrays him at 25 more nearly than at 45 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 79 OLD BRUTOX PARISH CHURCH. WILLI VMSBTRa faces' and of decorating the ridge poles of their ledges with scalps. Regardless of leadership, their valued services were available to whomsoever offered the greater inducements; as it transpired, the French 'got there first'. Yet even the redskins did not favor the idea of a chain of fortifications along their great rivers. In April, 1753, when they gathered in council at Logstown on the Ohio, a howl of protest was raised and a warrior was dispatched to Niagara to appeal to the French commandant at that point. Despite the usual conciliatory policy of the French toward the aborigines, their appeal — in this instance — was unavail- ing. In the summer of the same year the British colonial authorities bestirred themselves, venting a shnilar remon- strance and demanding, moreover, the complete withdrawal of the French forces stationed on the Ohio. Their first 80 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN emissary, one Capt. Frost, seems to have lost his ccurage, for he turned back and came again to Wilhamsburg having ac- complished nothing. Governor Dinwidclie, stucborn Scotch- man that he was, immediately determined to find a mere courageous messenger, and forthwith the youthful Wash- ington, on the strength of the prestige he had acquired by previous experience in the wilderness, was summoned to Williamsburg and shortly commissioned to be the bearer of this summary message of warning. At the same time — so his instructions read — he was to ascertain just what the enemy was attempting toward the fulfillment of his cher- ished scheme. Before following Washington over the Icng mountain trail, we may as well spend a few hours at Williamsburg. To-day it is a place essentially appropri- ate for quiet reverie, but in 1750 or there- abouts, when at the heyday of its exist- ence, it was a bust- ling town, a rendez- vous for the elite of the 'Old Dominion'. Duke of Glomestfr street, Since 1698 it had wiiuamsburg been the capital of the province; all the pomp of Virginia chivalry centered here. In magnificence and formality of function it is said to have been a small edition of the Court of St. James. Officials lived in gay mansions and traveled in gallant equipages. Society people dressed with great elegance. The theatre was a favorite diversion. But under all this ran a current of seriousness. At Wil- liam and Mary College, founded in 1691, some of the most famous men of the future republic were studying. The present day visitor to Williamsburg will usually find an un- occupied bench beside the weather-worn statue of 'Lord IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 81 Botetourt' in the centre of the college campus. If he will pause for a moment beneath the shadow of this monument to one of the best beloved of the colonial viceroys, — who immediately succeeded Dinwiddle — and remember that this unassuming old college has been the ahna mater of seven- teen governors, twelve cabinet ministers and fcur presi- dents of the United States, — there will descend upon him a spirit of appreciative reverence. Only to Harvard does this s 1 1 rjt./' y'^' ■■ --^^^^ ii 1^^ ^1"' M I" m^i . .|l|Wl rUP Ri^^X^^Pi^^ \l HI p- 'Hi \ mmmm ^S mmmm'"'^ H^^^^H^^ ^M 1 R._^ j^K College of William and Mary, \Villiam>lnirg. Va. (Photo by K. P. Griffith) venerable institution of learning yield the precedence of seniority. Jefferson, Monroe, Madison and Tyler were all students here in their youthful days, and doubtless often lingered around this same old pedestal, while Washington himself — who became one of the chancellors of the institu- tion in later years, — must have cultivated at least a passing acquaintance with this benevolent, white robed figure. Along the Duke of Gloucester Street, the main thor- oughfare of this somnolent town, are a score of fine old houses, each of which is haimted bv memories of one or more 82 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN of the distinguished Virginians of the eighteenth century. This dignified avenue is a mile in length and straight as a plumb line, running directly from the college gates to a spot at the farther extremity of the village, where once stood the colonial capitol of the province. We have but to recall the fact that every one of the 'show places' of modern Williamsburg was well known to Washington and that most of them are in some way asso- ciated with thirty years of his social and political life, fully to appreciate the charm of this ancient municipality, and its just claims to recognition on the pages of American his- tory. The old Court House, still remaining, is said — like so many other Virginia edifices of that period — to have been designed by Sir Christopher Wren, the architect cf St. Paul's Cathedral in London; while the far-famed Bruton Parish Church boasts the distinction of being one of the oldest houses of worship in America. If you are a cold, matter-of-fact person, ycu may be oppressed by the unmistakable atmosphere of loneliness which steals over many visitors to this unique city of the past. You will wonder what the people of Williamsburg do for a livehhood, for there is a noticeable absence of manu- facturing or commercial establishments. The utter silence of the p'ace — for even the wagons move noiselessly over the dirt roads — may 'get on your nerves', in which event you are likely to jump aboard the first train for Richmond and go away bitterly disappointed. But if, on the other hand, you love history and revel in the spiritual companionship of our worthy forefathers, old Williamsburg will afford you many congenial experiences. Here may be found any number cf vine-covered garden walls over which we peer half-reverently as though fearing to trespass upon the re-enactment of some old-time episode of courtship, and several picturesque graveyards wherein are crumbling stones and mysterious epitaphs inviting reverent meditation. Yet I have proof that some intensely prac- IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWX 83 tical men can enjoy occasional historic rambles, for among my possessions I cherish an autographed pencil sketch of one of the old tombs in the Brutcn churchyard, made by none other than Mr. Cass Gilbert, the architect of the tower- ing 'Woolworth Building', New Ycrk City. October 30th, 1753 — the very day upon which Wash- ington received his ambassadorial commission from the gov- ernor — saw him start out for Fredericksburg. Here the young envoy pickerl up Jacob Van Braam, his former fencing master, v.ho — while ostensibly engaged to act as 'offi- cial interpreter' — might be expected to come in handy as an 'expert swordsman' shculd fu- ture events take an un- pleasant turn. Arriving at Alexandria, Wash- ington laid in a stock o f provisions, a n d then pushed on with all speed to Winchester, then but an outpost in the valley of the Shen- andoah. The paths across the Blue Ridge mountains, originally broken by the Indians, were — for the most part — those followed by the early set- tlers and pioneers who dared to brave the dangers of the wilderness. Often they conformed to the round-about wind- ings of the water courses; at other times, when the physical features of the region were favorable, they struck off through the open country, passing the mountains through the natur- al defiles. Washington, in the course of his westward jour- .Statue of Lord Botetourt adorning the campus of Wil iam and Mary College, the res-idence of the president seen in the backgrQ.und 84 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN neys, is presumed to have favored the route leading through Ashby's Gap, which led him near to the hospitable country seat of Lord Fairfax, although he may occasionally have taken the northerly road through Berryville. The famous Winchester Pike was then "the newly opened road from Winchester", which the young surveyor had presumably helped to lay out, fcr it traversed the length of one of Lord Fairfax' choicest valleys. Old Toll Gate, Winchester Pike, not far from Harper's Ferry, W. Va. Here tribute is still extorted after the manner of the 'lobber barons' of the middle ages. A story is also to'.d to the effect that at this point an implacable woman held up an entire division of Sheridan's troopers during Civil AVar days Washington, upon his first expedition "in the service of the Crown", penetrated farther northward than during any of his subsequent campaigns or excursions. "Fort Ven- ango", his original objective, was situated near the present enterprising city of Franklin, in the great Pennsylvania oil belt; while "Fort Boeuf" — the headquarters of St. Pierre, the French commandant, to which outpost he was com- pelled to extend his journey by a four days' march — was less than twenty miles from Lake Erie. The present ham- let of Leboeuf, in Erie County, recalls its ancient site, which has been localized in the nearby village of Water ford. To my knowledge, there is no structure now standing, west of Winchester, which existed at the time of Washing- ton's initial trip to the Ohio. In many instances the old Indian and colonial names of the pioneer settlements still IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 85 cling to the modern cities and towns which have succeeded them, but in other cases we find that the communities of our day have assumed new names in keeping with their 86 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN progress, and have bequeathed their historic titles to ad- joining villages or suburbs. Therefore one has a chance of being deceived even as regards precise localities. It is interesting indeed to compare a modern map with some of the old surveys cf this far-distant period. — (several of which — a: important and informative documents bear- ing on the 'French War' — are still preserved in the archives of the British Museum) — in an endeavor to pick cut seme of the ancient localities and names, and to determine their modern equivalents. Of course we find the familiar Will's Creek, besides the 'Great' and 'Little' Crossings, Green Spring, Savage River, Meadow Run, Turtle Creek and a score of others still in the nomenclature of present-flay geography. Having survived this long, these names will, I suppose, continue to perpetuate the early history of this region as long as America endures. No one who has not himself covered the distance be- tween Williamsburg and Pittsburgh can begin to appreciate the magnitude of the undertaking so successfully carried out by the youthful surveyor. Even after making the trip in the luxurious elegance of a Pullman, which has swiflly Wills Creek, from Br.Uimore St. Bridge — Cumberland, Md. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 87 traversed the iron-shod way, cut-around and tunneled through the wooded heights of the Alleghenys, you feel that the journey has been rather arduous. What, then, must the same trip have meant to Washington, who had to circle and surmount these identical hills by the slow process of horse and foot? — with the raging mountain torrents to be forded or crossed by swimming in the absence of boats and bridges! Truly it was 'a man's job', and it is a marvel that he ever reached his destination, — to say nothing of the homeward journey. The Alleghenys are beautiful beyond comparison in early summer. Everywhere there is a panorama of green. Well nigh all the slopes are thickly wooded, — even now as ill pioneer days. It is a veritable 'limber lost' — to use the phrase popularized by Jean Stratton Porter. Perhaps because of the prevalence of rain in these mountains, the thick forests of this region are really wonderful. Nowhere have I seen such perfect arboreal splendor. Hill follows hill, each equally verdant, until the traveler wonders whether, in all the world, another bit of country may be found where Nature has been so lavish in her bestowal of pine and hemlock; birch, oak and laurel. The name of Christopher Gist will be forever associated with the enterprises of the youthful Washington. This intrepid pioneer had, in 1749, penetrated to the Ohio River and to the great Kanawha of West Virginia. He was a North Carolinan, pre-eminently a path-finder, one who loved the great outdoor world and knew well its four-footed denizens and its painted savages: long before the days of Daniel Boone he had roamed the Kentucky wilderness. Washington was familiar with his renown and appreciated his sagacity; right glad he was to have him for a com- panion -in the present perilous undertaking. By pre-arrange- ment. Gist was waiting to join the party at Will's Creek, now Cumberland, Md. Washington shortly arrived at this point, having IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN traveled northward from Winchester, and effecting a junc- tion with Gist, set out with his augmented retinue on the loth of November for the headquarters ( f the French com- mander. Cumberland is to-day a city of some IS, GOO inhabitants, made prosperous by reason of its rolling mills and glass works. Could Wash- ington come back to The Queen City Hotel Cumber. and, Md. 'The Xarrows' bt^low Cunilierliind, Enianuf! Lutheran Church, Cumlter'.and (Site of eld Fort Cumberland) revisit the scenes of his youthful adventures, he would never recognize in the present bustling town the sparsely settled trading-post which he knew so well, with its rude 'Fort Cumberland' and straggling warehouses. He would look in vain for the old frame house, beneath whose roof he tarried, for it has gone the way of all things earthly, but if he made diligent search he might succeed in locating a copy of the antique print depicting the stockaded fort as it existed in 1753. The traveler of to-day regards Cumberland as merely a half-way stop on the road to Pittsburgh ; for Washington IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 89 "Little Crosf.ings" Bridge over the Custlenian Kivei-, Orrantsville, Md. it marked the end of civilization and the beginning of the actual plunge into the wilderness. While the present City has many narrow and crooked streets, which suggest the layout of an ancient town, it possesses not a solitary building associated with Washing- ton's day and age. It is the rugged ambient hills which give Cumberland a touch of originality. The smooth, grass- covered bluff to the west of the town is truly remarkable; one half wonders why it is not crowned by some old watch- tower or citadel. In an old-world town this commanding hilltop would surely have had its medieval castle or baronial stronghold, but as the old post of Fort Cumberland lay on the lower ground near the river, it has long ago lost its identity, and the Emanuel Lutheran Church is new reputed to occupy the historic site. Broadly speaking, we may say that — after leaving Cumberland — Washington struck overland, crossing the Castleman River at Grantsville, Md., near the present Penn- sylvania border (the famous 'Mason-Dixon Line') and then traveled entirely on the soil of the 'Keystone State', twice fording the Youghiogheny before its junction with the Monongahela. "Great Crossings" is on the boundary between Somerset and Fayette Counties, and 'Stewart's Crossings' corresponds to modern Connellsville. 90 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN Going into greater detail, we may positively identify many miles of Washington's wilderness path, for the major portion of the trail between the Potomac and the Youghio- gheny — subsequently to be immortalized as 'Braddock's Road' — was, in 1753, a route known as 'Nemacolin's Path', so named from the Delaware Indian who had some years before blazed the original swath through the jungle. Traces of this historic highway, portions of which are identical with the highly improved Cumberland Pike, may still be found as forest paths, notably near Frostburg, Md., and in portions of Fayette County, Pa. Following afoot the course of Wash- ington, we see for ourselves some of the natural obstacles he had to overcome, and appreciate certain favorable condi- tions which prompted his predecessors in the choice of their route. Besides the larger streams, there were many creeks and runlets to be crossed, and it is readily apparent that the pioneers were dependent upon such favorable fords as were provided by Nature. These chance 'crossings' were largely responsible for the course of the Cumberland Pike, which later, as a part of the great 'National Highway', was destined to be one of the principal arteries along which flowed a stream of colonists bound for Kentucky and the Ivliddle West. A very delightful vacation period may be enjoyed amid the beauties of the Alleghenys by anyone who is inclined to combine research with recreation. It must be conceded that there are some exceedingly profitless vacations, from which we return wearied and disgusted in body and soul. But far different are the experiences of the traveler who finds companionable solitude in an historic wilderness of meadow and mountain. When undertaken with a definite object — preferably an intimate biographical study — such a rest period becomes like unto an excursion in the select company of our subject, from which delectable experience we enrich ourselves by a permanent and elevating friend- ship. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 91 Thus, as we tramp along the old roads of Maryland, or roam around amid the rugged hill-country of southwestern Pennsylvania, we walk and talk with the little knoiv)i Washington, — the youth of purpose — clear-eyed, clean- minded , brave and companionable. Great as is his military a. n d political fame, it is as a true man, more than all else, that Washing- ton is supreme. Yet he was, in a measure, 'a m an apart' from those of his day a n d generation. The thou g h t f u 1. care - burdened general and jDresident w a s honored by a v.- o r 1 d who failed to ccmprehend him. But here in the wild-wood, sur- prising as it may appear, we feel and know the sincerity of his comradeship. As the wilderness youth in the service of the crown, before the obscuring barriers of fame hide his inner nature, he becomes to us quite readily understood. There is one historic spot which is associated with all of Washington's expeditions to the Ohio, — the little known 'Washington Spring', in the heart of the Laurel Hills, six miles from Uniontown, Pa. To-day, it is a useful adjunct to one of the prosperous little farms of Fayette County, and — unconscious of its importance — bubbles forth in unos- tentatious utility beneath the kindly shelter of an ancient hog hut. On at least four separate occasions Washington The Falls of the Yoiighiogheny at Ohio Pyle, Pa., one of 'beauty spots' in the Lavirel Hills the 92 IN THE SERVICE OF THE C ROWN himse-f tarried here for a brief encainpinent ; Bradclcck tasted its waters, and nearby — as we shall later narrate — occurred two of the most noteworthy incidents of the French War. Within a stone's throw passes a stretch of the Nema- colin Path, well nigh unimproved since the days of which we write, and within easy striking distance are several mementos of Washington's encounter with active detach- ments of the enemy in 1754. Uniontown, Pa., is an exceptional base of operations far the student who wishes to delve into the complexities of Washington's movements during his five years' service as an officer of the king. Here you wdll find yourself within reach of many of those out-of-the - wa y localities which escape detailed description a t the hands of the arm-chair histo- rian. If your time is limited, 'hiking' is out of the question, for full eight miles intervene b e - twee n Union- town and the crest of the hills among which are scattered the points of greatest interest. Let me advise you not to hire a horse unless you are con- vinced beforehand that the animal is disposed to keep mov- ing and will not 'grow weary in well doing'. The sorry nag foisted upon the unsuspecting writer had a speed limit of three miles an hour, proving patient and long suffering under our repeated urgings and excoriations, but obdurate in her determination to adhere to a walk, frequently inter- "Washingtons Spring', Fayette County, Pa. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 93 rupted by deliberate standstills, as though to meditate upon the beauties cf the countryside or, perhaps, to regam her breath. Washington, in the account of his first journey, records the fact that he "stopped at Mr. Gist's." The former site of this brief halting place lies about half-way between Uniontown and Connellsville. The latter city, as noted previously, corresponds with the Stewart's Cr: ssings of this early period. The Youghiogheny River, which is again en- countered at this point, has grcwn considerably in breadth, and here it turns sharply to the westward as though leading the way to fields of greater possibility. The section cf country lying between Uniontown and Connellsville is a mining region, and beneath many of the hills once traversed by the youthful emissary to the French forts, they are continually burrowing away with pick and shovel for iron ore. In the ear- ly morning trol- ley from Con- nellsville you will meet with t h e begrimed miners wearing their odd-looking caps, upon the visors of which little glow-worm lights are fast- ened when the men are in the 'workings' below. At the city cf McKeesport, the Youghiogheny meets the larger Monongahela, and the united rivers, blending sociably, slowly roll on through a picturesque valley to great and mighty Pittsburgh. There are some pretty bits of Tlic 'Mount Bi'iiddoik Mansion'. ))ui!t Ijy Col. Isaac Meason in 1803 on tlie old Christopher Gist farin. The Gist settlement was the pioneer community west of the Allegheny Mountains. Photo. 1)\' Jani( s Hadden, Uniontown. Pa. 04 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN scenery remaining here and there, but the Alonongahela is now most essentially a river of commerce. Along many miles of its course there are pottery-kilns, factories, smelters and disposal plants. After the fragrant and luxurious mountain wilderness through which we have been passing, ii seems that this unsightly region is a realm of absolute ugliness, where the 'almighty dollar' is king. To the 'forks of the Ohio' — where Pittsburgh now Stands — came Washington on the 2 3 r d o f N o V e m b e r, 1753. As yet this advanta- g e u s site, where the Alle- gheny — com- ing cut of the north — mingles with the Mon- ongahela, had not been seized by the French. The YoughioKheny at Connellsville, Pa, — the •Strwart's Cros.siiiKs' of old. Our 'young voyageur', gazing eagerly at the broadly flowing r.'vers, saw at once the strategic value of the position and made a note to that effect in his little book. He was indeed literally following the instructions of Governor Dinwiddle to "keep his eyes open." What would Washington say. I wonder, could he stand to-day upon the same spot? There ought indeed — so I think — be some such thing as a 'conscious reincarnation', so that our pathfinders and builders of nations might see the fulfillment cf their dreams of future empire and be satisfied ! To Pittsburgh we shall soon make further reference, but for the moment we must revert to Washington and IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 95 the business which brought him thus far afield. At this point he had entered the territory of the enemy and was soon to find out for himself just how the land lay. Purposing to fathom the intent of the redskins before his fateful audience with the French, Washington proceeded wihout delay along the Ohio to 'the Logstown', not far from the present Beaver, Pa. Of the conference, which took place on the 26th, he himself has left us a copious record. He A vitMv of the Alleghenv at Pitt.Ojui'Kli fiattere:! savage vanity with soft words of 'Irve and loyalty'. distributed the customary presents, and succeeded in per- suadmg the leading sachems to acccmpany his little party to Venango, whither they arrived "on the fourth of December, without anything remarkable happening but a continued series of bad weather" At this ''old Indian town on French Creek" Washington saw for the first time the waving banner of a hostile nation ; nevertheless the officer in charge of the post, one Captain .loncaire, enter- tained him most royally. Viands and cordials were set before the tired travelers, and the Frenchmen, with appar- ent hospitality, conversed in their presence without 96 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN restraint, — which looseness of tongue enabled our young Virginian to pick up considerable 'inside information'. It was necessary, however, to penetrate still farther into the enemy's country to obtain the ear of the French The Ohio River at BeaviT, Pii. commandant himself. Not until the 11th of December, after a most arduous tramp through naked forests, over snow-covered mountains and frozen streams, on which they were accompanied by a small escort cf French, did Washing- ton's party arrive at Fort Boeuf, a stockaded compound seemingly at the end of the world. Here, away off from civilization, the dignified and courteous St. Pierre, true to the traditions cf his country, kept watch and ward, sur- rounded by a handful of soldiers and a convivial staff of subordinates. Washington's communication was formally delivered, perused without unseemly chagrin, and answered with a similarly sealed document which later proverl to be an uncompromising defence cf the claims of France, Despite the unpleasant nature of his errand. Washington experienced no sign of discourtesy, save perhaps the evident attempts on the part of his host to disaffect his Indian allies. Contrary to expectation, he was provided with canoes and adequately outfitted fcr a return journey by water; indeed when he embarked for home upon the swiftly flowing current of the ice-laden creek, one would little imagine that he was the bearer of an ultimatum which was ()estined to set at war the two greatest nations of Europe. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWX 97 Most of the pictures we have seen ilkistratmg the accounts of 'Washington's journey to the Ohio' depict the perilous events of this homeward trip. The upset canoe, the improvised raft, the attempt upon the hfe of Washing- ton by a sneaking Indian after he and Gist had detached themselves from the rest the of the party and were pro- ceeding on foot to the set- F tlements; all these go to make up a most interesting ^^J^' ^'''i' IVafhtngton, story and well illustrate . ,, 1 ri , , , . *ion- ROBERT DINIVIDDIE, Efq* the hardihood and fleter- His MajcA/s Lieutenant-Covernor, and mination of Dinwiddie's CommandcrinChiefof /^/iRG/A^i^/, TO THE COMMANDANT D f T H E FRENCH FORCES JOURNAL OHIO. messenger. Yet he passed unscathed through dangers seen and unseen. January 11th saw him once again at Belvoir on the Potomac, and five days later he rendered his re- g O v e R N o RrLn T T E n. port to the governor at /u« a translation or ths Williamsburg. French officer's answer Washington's adven- tures on this, his initial experience of a military Reduced Farsimile of the Title Page of nature, have offered abun- washingtons .joumai dant material for the historian, the 'original source' for their inspiration being Washington's own 'journal', published shortly after the completion of the journey, and subse- c[uently reprinted in London. He had clearly proven his aptitude, and demonstrated that, — notwithstanding his youth. — he was capable of trusts involving greatest discre- tion. He had scored his first 'big hit'. Let me quote from the recent work of ]^Ir. Charles H. Callahan, who aptly sums up the results of the achievement: WILLIAMS BVRGt Prtotdl^ WILLIAM HUNTER. 1754. 98 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN "With the sagacity of a trained diplomat he had wrung from the French their innermost secrets, outwitted the Indian at his own game, and displayed the most heroic courage and fortitude in the face of stupendous obstacles and dangers. (Successfully overcoming every difficulty, without display or parade, he quietly rode into Williami-burg on the 16th of January, 1754, after an abi^ence of two months and a half, having traveled over a thousand miles, most of the way through an unbroken and unexplored wilderness, inhabited by wild beasts and wiider men, and delivered the reply from the French commandant to Governor Dinwiddle." Washington's second expedition — that of 1754 — was the first in which he was intrusted with the sole command of any considerable body of troops. It was also the occa- sion of his first downright failure. This was the campaign which opened the French and Indian War, in which occurred the incident of 'Fort Necessity', and the capitulation of Washington's entire command, followed by their immediate release with the honors of war . Briefly told, the circumstances were as follows: The publication of Washington's Journal, with the account of his 'spying out of the land' \v h e r e o n the French had tres- passed, aroused the colonial gov- ernment of Vir- ginia to a sense of danger. A force of three hundred volun- teers, whose zeal was increased by liberal promises of land beyond the mountains, was quickly raised; the command — having been declined by Washington — being entrusted to Col. Joshua Fry. It was the misfortune of the latter to suc- cumb to illness within a month or two, and therefore — without alternative — our hero was forced by circumstances to assume the leadership and the responsibilities incident thereto. "Rock Fort," near Jumonville, Pa., where the 'Half King' was encamped when Washington joined him preparatory to the attack on the French. r>, , , t tr j i tt • . n Photo bv James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 99 The object of the enterprise m hand was the capture of the obnoxious French outposts which now menaced the border country. Alexandria, Winchester and Cumberland again have a place in the story, with a new locality added, to wit, 'Great Meadows', a region lying in that historic southern part of Fayette County, Pa., to the southeast of Ledge of Rock, from which Washington fired on the French, at daybreak, May ^8th, 1754, thus opening the French and Indian War Photo by James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. Chalk Hill and the Laurel range, where a fertile valley, watered by Meadow Run and its brooks, seems fashioned by Nature to gladden the heart of man. Arrived here on the 24th of May, secret information came to W^ashington to the effect that the French were coming out to press hostilities, whereupon the colonial recruits hastily intrenched themselves, with their Indian allies — under the friendly sachem 'Half King' — encamped hard by. The enemy failing to make their appearance, Washing- ton sallied forth on the night of the 27th, and in the early hours of the morning following surprised and put to rout a small prowling detachment of the French under the leadership of Jumonville, who had been lurking suspiciously near among the rocky glens of Chalk Hill. This insignificant 100 rx THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN engagement, in which Washington was represented by the French as having acted without provocation, marked the beginning of the long-drawn-out war which was to end in the loss of their American possessions. Jumonville himself fell at the first volley and was buried in a lonely forest grave, while the ledge of rocks beneath which his little company was ensconced, is pointed out to such infrequent visitors as may come to these parts determined to find precise localities. Strange, is it not. that the French and Indian War, which decided the future of America, should have had its beginning in an obscure nook upon the crest of the Alleghenys, which not one in a million of those who study the history of our country will ever have the privilege of actually beholding? Washington, it would appear, had 'taken the bull by the horns' and 'won out' in his first in- ning with the enemy. A few prisoners were sent back to Cum- berland, accompa- nied by a plea for promised reinforce- ments ; and the y o u n g commander, early in June, pre- pared to push h i s initial success by a direct advance to the Monongahela, as it was up this stream that the French were supposed to be slowly pushing their way. But scarcely had the little force of Virginians started for Redstone* when their opponents assumed the initiative. Having ascended the river in force, Jumonville's grave, on the crest of the Alleghenys. Photo by James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. Red.stone is identical with the modern town of Brownsville, on the Monongahela, and is distant some fifteen miles frtia' Uniontown. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 101 the French and their numerous following of Indian warriors themselves began to move forward, compelling Washington to retreat pose haste and seek immediate safety behind a hurriedly improvised and palisaded earthwork in a corner of the Great Meadows, henceforth to be known in history as FORT NECESSITY »S OUT-i.\Ue.D SY FREEMAN LEWIS leiG THE GREAT MEADOWS The "Great Meadows," looking north. The 'Braddock Road' passes at the feet of the observer. The newer National Road crosses from itft to rigiit. 'Fort Necessity' is outlined in the center. The parade is passing cft)wn the private lane from the National Road to the grove where the exercises of the sesqui-centennial took place, JUI.V 4th, 1904. „, , -, TT , , TT • . n Photo b.v James Hadden, Uniontown, Pa. Fort Necessity. On the 3rd of July the enemy attacked with great determination, and through direst necessity, beset as he was by a greatly superior force, Washington, — having put up a gallant fight, — agreed to 'throw up the sponge' and return to Virginia. In this extremity, the young leader pursued a course both prudent and sensible. Supplies and additional recruits having failed him, he realized that he had been out-maneuvered, and he preferred to save his troops rather than to battle for a forlorn hope. The French, punctilious always in matters of military 102 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN etiquette, were glad enough to offer liberal terms, being well satisfied at seeing the last, as they supposed, of their op- ponents from beyond the mountains. Notwithstanding the disastrous results of this expedi- tion, the people and the Assembly had no word of censure for Washington. But Governor Dinwidde, zealously enthusiastic with plans for reorganization, decreed that hereafter no officer of the provincial militia was to rank higher than captain, and that, in future, the Virginia officers were to yield precedence to those royally commis- sioned. This dictum meant the inevitable reduction of Washington's rating, and — thoroughly exasperated — he promptly resigned his commission and retired to private life at Mount Vernon. Thus ended the doings of 1754 on the 'near side' of the mountains. Across the range the enemy were now actively bestirring themselves with the advancement of their outposts, and — before the year closed — had taken ad- vantage of the choice site at the 'forks of the Ohio' and had built Fort Duquesne, (exactly at the point pronounced by Washington to be of paramount importance ) installing therein a garrison suf- ficiently well equipped to hold the position against all comers. Washington had, in 1754, practically re- traced his course of the preceding year as far as the Gist plan- tation. The direct northwesterly march to the Monongahela which he had planned was abruptly halted somewhere between this place and m o d e r n Uniontown. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 103 The site of Fort Necessity is well known to motorists going from Pittsburgh to Clarksburg, W. \'a., for the modern state road passes through the 'Great Meadows'. Only a few low hummocks of earth, scarcely noticeable, remain to indi- cate the precise lines of Washington's make-shift fortifica- tion. Early historians have told us that the stockade was built in the form of a triangle, and we are informed that in 1816 the existing earthworks were about three feet in height, Since then, as is plainly to be seen, a century's storms have A 'c!ose-up' view of Fort Necessity The white stones indicate the course of one of the low earthworks. The withered trvnk is that of a cherry tree which took root within the lines of the fort, and had grown to quite a size when Washington la.'t visited the spot in 1784. From the wood of this tree. Mr. James Hndden of TTn^on^i^rn const-"''ted the bust of the (Ttneral which is illustrated toward the close of this chapter. This photo was taken by Mr. Hadden before the tree, having been dead for many years, fell to the ground. reduced them considerably. Nevertheless, the traces of heaped-up earth are still unmistakably apparent, and not so long ago some remains of bark were found in one of the excavated tumuli, tending to substantiate the accepted theory that a rough wooden palisade formed the chief defensive feature of this hastily-built refuge. The site had absolutely no strategic importance and was chosen only because of the presence of running water, and the urgency of instant action. Several attempts have been made to mark this 104 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN THE 'CARLYLE HOUSE', ALEXANDRIA. V\. Braddoek's Headquarters historic spot. As early as 1830, the Fort Nesessity Monu- ment Association was incorporated, and in 1834 and 1904 elaborate anniversary celebrations were held; upon the latter occasion fully eight thousand people frcm Uniontcwn and the nearby villages congregating to these rural meadows in holiday attire. In 1908 a new commemorative tablet was placed in position, several previous markers having been destroyed by vandals. Upon it we read the stor; of the provincial troops, who "after an engagement of nine hours, capitulated to M. Coulon de Villiers, on July 4th, 1754." Admittedly, Washington's movements in these inter- esting regions are far from being well known even to close Sludents of history, and it is to such painstaking local authorities as Mr. James Had e'en of Tniontown — to whom I am in- debted for m a n y l)hotographs a n d much valuable data — that the future American will, b e greatly obligated. In his valuable boors dealing with the ex- peditions of Wash- ington and Brad- deck, 1753-'55, Mr. Hadden has given a clear account of chronological happenings, and some charming descriptions of the noteworthy landmarks still existing in these parts. I was somewhat surprised to learn that George Wash- IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 105 ingion, somewhere about 1782, himself acquired the title to large tracts of land in Fayette County, — possibly through motives of sentiment, — and that the site of Fort Necessity v/as included in his real estate holdings at the time of his death. The year 1755, with its disasters, is the 'familiar year' so well impressed upon the memory of every sshool-boy. To acquire lasting remembrance because of one's mis- fcrtune.: is most unusual, yet this is the portion of Major General Edward Braddcck of the British army, who arrived in America that spring with the expressed purpose of administering a well deserved 'trouncing' to the over- venturescme French, — yet who w^as destined to become the leading victim in the most disastrous of the attempts on the part of England and her colonies to secure the mastery of the Ohio Valley. We shall come closest to this historic personage by a visit to old Alexandria on the Potomac, — the sleepy Vir- ginia town just across the river and a little lo the south cf our present national capital, Washington city. The famous old 'Carlyle House', still standing, was Braddock's original headquarters. John Carlyle had married a daughter of William Fairfax of Belvcir, and was therefore one of W^ash- ington's circle of intimates. At his mansion in Alexandria, Washington was a frequent caller, before the Revolution and after; so we may regard it as a peculiarly valuable link in history's chain. To-day it is 'sandwiched' between large, ugly buildings of later construction and is invisible from the street. In the eyes of its present owners this is not disadvantageous, for it makes possible the charging of a small fee for the privilege of even external examination. True, you may go inside the house once you have paid your way into the outer enclosure, but the circumscribed setting of this choice old Virginia landmark is, in my opinion, most deplorable. In the Carlyle House were assembled, on the 14th of 106 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN April, 1755, a notable array of colonial representatives, among whom were five prcvincial governors; and wiihin these musty old walls the projected campaign was planned. Washington, estimating Braddock with his usual keen insight, describes him as "haughty and exacting in matters of military etiquette; obstinate — but honorable and gener- ous, and somewhat irritable." Washington, at this time a Virginia colonel — on the 'retired list' by choice, had been invited by Brad- dock to attach himself to his personal s t a ff . Although piqued by reason of the governor's recent conduct, he had accepted with alacrity. Since the resignation of his former command he had been 'keeping bachelors hall' the old \vhakb\ Alexandria, va. at Mount Vernon with his brother John Augustine, endeav- oring to tidy up the farm after a year's neglect. From his rural retreat he had noted with keen interest the passage of Braddock's flotilla up the river en route to Alexandria, the place of mobilization, and had secretly longed to partici- pate in the promising enterprise about to be launched against the enemy who had recently been the means of his own discomfiture. While he would naturally have hesitated about thrusting his services upon the commonwealth, the invitation of Braddock was most welcome. His scruples removed, he entrusted his business affairs to his brother IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 107 John and prcmptly proceeded to town to wait upon the general, who was the most eminent British officer — up to this time — to undertake military operations in America. The well nigh abandoned water-front at Alexandria, where new a few rotting hulks await the hour of dissolution, was, in those summer days of 1755, a scene of greatest animation. Preparations for the crushing of the French were in full hakpp:ks ferry, \\. va. swing. From the anchored frigates, men were busy unload- ing munitions and stores, while nearby the newly arrived British veterans astonished the rustic provincial militia by their precise maneuvers and imposing parade. Here walked young George Washington side by side with his new acquaintances, Captains Orme and Morris, who regaled him with tales of daring adventure upon many an 'overseas' battlefield, while he in turn endeavored to impress upon them something of the seriousness of the cam- paign which they were now about to undertake. In all probability they lent an attentive ear, but Braddock, unfortunately 'wise in his own conceits', would listen to little advice and would brook no interference with his own preconceived schemes. But is this to be wondered at? Con- sider Braddock's sixty years — forty-five of them spent in 108 IN THE SERVICE 01' THE CROWN the army, — and his meritorious services under the famous Marlborough at Ibntenoy. Then remember Washington's extreme youth, his comparative inexperience, and his practi- cal failure as a commander up to this juncture. Under the circumstances can Braddock be blamed for failing to place unreserved confidence in the young Virginian? After repeated delays the troops got into motion; Alexandria was left behind, and the expedition set out along the Potomac, — the worthy Braddock clinging tenaciously to his coach of state until the utter wildness of the country and the impassability of the roads made this luxury no longer possible. Well nigh a month was consumed in reach- ing Fort Cumberland. As we follow in the van cf the little army, which consisted of the two imported British regiments and a few colonial riflemen, we may as well be a bit dilatory ourselves, and linger here and there along the route. Harper's Ferry, one of the most famous tov/ns of West Virginia, occupies a site well known to Washington. The modern village nestles on the slope of Bolivar Heights, and is hemmed in by the Potomac River on the east and the Shenan- doah on the west. Up along the Potomac from this point the young sur- veyor had shaped his course on numberless occasions, although in proceeding to Cumberland he seems usually to have favored the valley route from W^inchester. Harper's Ferry as a village was non-existent in 1755, but the scenic grandeur afforded by a combination of per- Tablets bes-ide the Railway Station at Harper's Perry, telling a story of civil strife. IX THE SERVKT. OF THE CROWN 100 pendicular aiitl wooded cliffs, between which rushed the swift flowing rivers, was then as now a source of admiration and delight. Neither Washington nor Braddock dreamed that so much of epoch-making history was to have its setting in this rocky gorge ere a century had elapsed. Little they knew that here John Brown was to set up, prematurely, the standard of freedom for the slave ; or that here, in the fratricidal war which followed, so much of momentous im- port was to transpire that five closely inscribed tablets would be required to tell the tale. Yet so it happened. At nearby Charlestown, in the little court house, John Brown received the sentence of death, and to-day the pass- ing tourist may, while the train waits at the Harper's Ferry station, read from the car windows a lengthy record of the war-time vicissitudes which have given the modest little town a conspicuous place in the annals of the civil strife between the states. Let us now cross the Potrmac and side-step to Frederick, Maryland, a few miles to the north, where Brad- dock, Washington and Governor Sharpe held a council of war. The 'transportation problem' had, at this stage of the enterprise, become a very serious matter, and it remained for Benjamin Franklin of Pennsylvania, then having charge of the postal system of the colonies, to set things aright. He it was who, by herculean efforts, 'was able to provide vehicles for the conveyance of the baggage and provisions of Braddcck's army. At Frederick, W^ashington and Franklin met for the fiist time. Wouldn't you — pilgrim of to-day — who pick your way through the quaint lanes of Frederick town, give a good round sum to see these tw^o great Americans standing side by side? Absolutely different in every respect save a mutual patriotism ; representing the very opposites in char- acter, heredity and breadth of vision; the son of the Vir- ginia planter and the offspring of the New England chandler well personify the varied types of genius which have con- no IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN tributed to the making of the American Commonwealth. The inn where their deliberations were held is one block west of the Baltimore & Ohio station. It was at this time that George Washington, civil engineer, laid out the route from Baltimore to Cumberland, and the first houses of Frederick were built along this road, which later became part of the National Pike, and is now known as Patrick Street. Back and forth over this old road Braddock and Wash- ington marched with their soldiers. The fine spring a few miles out of town, which furnished water to the In- dians, and later to Braddock's men, is known as "Braddock's Spring," and is in existence to-day. Four miles west of the city is a range of hills of the Catoctin Mountams called "Braddock's Heights", commanding beautiful views of the Frederick and Middle- town valleys, while the Antie- tam battlefield is only a few miles distant and easily reached by carriage. History owes more than one apology to General Brad- dock. We have criticized the slowness of his movements as he pushed on over the moun- tain-way to Cumberland, yet I am constrained to believe that few men could have done DR. FRANKLIN had already passed far beyond the meridian of life and had attained an honestly acquired fame and fortune before Washington came into publicity. Born in 1706, the youngest of seventeen children, he had come from New England to Philadelphia. Self-taught, industrious and perse- vering, he had succeeded as printer and publisher. Before the Colonial Wars he had already made his mark in the spheres of science, philosophy, and diplomacy. American history presents no greater contrast than the lives of Franklin and W^ashington. The for- mer rose by his own genius despite adverse circumstances ; the latter de- veloped a sterling character and steadfast patriotism notwithstanding the other extremes of fortune — aris- tocratic lineage and great wealth. We may say, however, that Frank- lin was to Pennsylvania what Wash- ington was lo Virginia. In 1755 Franklin, who was then the colonial Postmaster General, joined with W^ashington in warning the ill-fated Braddock against the possibilities of disaster on his ex- pedition against Fort Duquesne. In 1764 we find Franklin in Lon- don, before the king, protesting against the injustice of the royal system of taxation. While in Eng- land he was honored by Oxford University's degree of LL. D. After trying consistently, but vain- IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 111 better. Those of my readers who have traveled the line of the Baltimore and Ohio west from Washington cannot fail to appreciate the magnitude of the task imposed upon him —virtually that of building his own road as he progressed. Napoieon crossed the Alps in three days, it is true, but the passes which he fol- lowed were great international highways two thousand years old. Of course, Braddock pos- sessed neither the adaptabil- ity nor the genius of Napol- eon, but — on the other hand — the forces at his command wTre but poorly provided with engineering appliances. Be- sides, Braddock's royal troops were pitifully inadequate and wTre not partial to the idea of turning themselves into wood-choppers or road-dig- gers, and most of this un- military work was left to the few, while the many looked on in idleness, lending merely their 'moral support'. Yet mile by mile the narrow roadway was cut through the forest, and — a few years afterward — proved its utility as an invaluable avenue of commerce and immigraticn. Eventually came the railroad, which followed the old 'Braddock road' for many leagues, being a still further stimulus to the settlement of the vast expanses of virgin country beyond the Alleghenys. Let us therefore cease to disparage the achievements of Braddock and rather accord Iv, to avert a rupture with England, ("for, like Washington, he seems to have possessed something of the sen- timents of a royalist) he joined with the other colonial delegates in the preparation of the Declaration of Independence, to which he was a signer. Franklin was a statesman rather than a soldier. As such, Washing- ton fully realized his worth, and shortly commissioned him to pro- ceed to Canada in an endeavor to induce the colonists there to join us in our struggle for independence. In this enteri^rise he was, however, unsuccessful. After serving for a time as head of the postal system under the pa- triot congress, Franklin was dis- patched to France as one of our en- voys, seeking open co-operation, — military and financial. Now seventy years of age, but shrewd in the ways of the world, conciliatory, persua- sive and cultured, he made an ideal emissary. In January, 1778, the treaty of alliance between France and ourselves was consummated. Franklin remained in France throughout the duration of the war and helped formulate the final peace treaty with Great Britain. Return- ing to America, covered with honors, his declining years were spent in the service of Pennsylvania, of which commonwealth, for three years, he served as president, crowning his life's labors with an important part in the framing of the Federal Con- stitution. He died in Philadelphia, April 17th, 1790. Franklin said that the proudest day of his life was that on which he saw Washington inducted into office as our first president. Washington's high regard for Franklin was epitomized in one of his personal letters, written from Mount Vernon in 1788, in which he refers to him as "the great phil- osopher. Dr. Franklin." 112 IX THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN to his name an honored place among the makers of America. As we follow this historic 'right of way' behind our hard-puffing engine struggling up the mountain grades, we are reminded of the days of Braddock by many little sta- tions up among the hills which bear n a me s reminiscent o f his time ; and in the neigh- borhood of some of them are to be seen bits of ruin which un- doubtedly could tell interesting stories of the . Patrick Street. Frederick, Md. past. At Cherry Run , 32 miles from Harper's Ferry, are the remains of Fort Frederick, built in 1755, while a few miles farther, 'Sir. John's Run' commemorates Sir John Sinclair, who was Braddock's quartermaster. Again, 'Pat- terson's Creek' has a familiar sound; this hamlet, where the railway crosses the Potomac and again enters ?vlaryland, was well known to Braddock and Washington, and is men- tioned in the latter's contemporary accounts of his several expeditions. From Cumberland, — where Braddock's expeditionary forces had lingered until the 10th of June, engaged in parley- ing with the friendly Indians who were encamped nearby, and awaiting the arrival of the long-promised wagons, — the army pushed along the usual route to the Youghiogheny. The attempts of Braddock and his colleagues to secure the co-operation of the redskins had not been very successful, in fact their proximity worked more harm than good to the cause. The squaws who had accompanied the dusky IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 113 warriors proved a grievous temptation to some of the officers, and it was eventually necessary to dispatch them on their homeward way in order to avoid serious compli- cations. In reality Braddock neither availed himself of the services of the Indians nor of those of the numerous scouts, — trained in border warfare — who were ready and willing to accom- pany the expedition; but so much has been written concern- ing these costly er- rors that we can well allow the subject to rest. Yet very soon, through utter inabili- ty to cope with the undreamed of diffi- culties incident to this kind of cam- paigning, the General 'Washington's Headquarters', Fr( derick, Md. was obliged to turn to Washington for advice. "Leave your impedimenta", suggested the latter, "with a small following division, and push forward in light marching order with the main body of troops." And thus it transpired that Colonel Dunbar tarried behind — with the rear guard and almost all the supplies and ammunition, — and pitched camp on the summit of the Laurel range near the Gist plantation. Brad- dock endeavored to make better time after parting with his baggage train, but anything like speed in these wild and broken regions was out of the question. Soon a fever laid hold upon poor Washington, and he himself was forced to 'lay off' for a few days under the personal care of Dr. James Craik, one of the surgeons upon the staff of the general. Between the young Scotch doctor and his patient there soon developed a friendship which was destined to continue through many eventful years, in fact, 114 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 'O d Fort Cumberland' as depicted b} the ancient prints Braddock conferring with the Scouts until the close of Washington's distinguished career. Dr. Craik, after the French war, established himself at Alexan- dria. He passed through most of the engagements of the Revolution, being intimately associated with Washington, both on the field and in the later period of his political activ- ities. They continued to be lifelong neighbors, and it was Dr. Craik who closed the eyes of the dying master of Mount Vernon. So, in the wooded wilderness, — where 'a friend in need is a friend indeed', — a rare intimacy had its beginning; one of those happy friendships which wear well either in sunshine or in rain, and the long-standing spirit of confi- dence and brotherhood between the honest doctor and the illustrious Washington offers a pleasing commentary upon the character of each. While Washington was incapacitated, the expedition had passed the ruins of Fort Necessity, grim re- minder of the disaster of the preceding year, and had pushed on over the mountains to the Youghiogheny, halting en route at the Washington Spring' site and at Gist's. Between 'Great IMeadows' and Connells- ville may be seen unmistakable traces of Braddock's road, — slight depressions silhouette of through the meadows and hills, long aban- Dr. craik IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 115 doned and grass-grown, — which the more recent builders of the National Road have avoided in the construction of the present highly improved turnpike. In many places the old road and the new run nearly parallel, and the significant hollow traversing the daisy-fields bears mute testimony to the dogged Briton and his provincial laborers, whereas other sections of the original lay-out have lost their identity be- neath ballasting of stone and coatings of tar. An unimproved section of the 'Ncmaeolin Path', Laurel Hill, Fayette County, Pa. Braddock, after passing over the Laurel range and ford- ing the Youghiogheny, did not deem it expedient to follow the course of that river, but — on June 30th — turned due north and proceeded in that direction to a point a mile or so below the present town of Mount Pleasant, Pa. Here, at length, he veered to the westward and at last struck the Bush Fork of Turtle Creek near its union with the Monon- gahela. He was now indeed in close proximity to the sup- posedly watchful foe, but as yet had seen little to warrant him in the belief that they were preparing to contest his progress. The critics have complained that Braddock, in ap- proaching the French stronghold of Fort Duquesne, followed a long and strangely circuitous route. Undoubtedly he was 116 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN inspired by motives of caution ; yet in making this last de- tour he was but adhering to the well-defined Nemacolin trail, which wound over the upland meadows in distinct con- trast to the lower and more dangerous river path. The his- torian who seeks positive evidence of Braddock's passing on these last miles of the long march will find the clearly identi- fied trail running through what is now Westmoreland Coun- ty, a region less rugged than that of the Laurel Hills, but UNIOX SPRINGS MT. PLEASANT, PA. The twin springs seen to-day are adjacent to Braddock's camp site; some nine miles north of Connellsville. (Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa.) full of interest. There is much rolling meadow and bog- land; Jacob's Creek and Long Run and 'Salt Lick' to be forded, with a number of small hamlets — such as Hunkers and Circleville, 'ten miles from nowhere' so it seems, — thrown upon the map at random merely for the sake cf pro- viding a route for the Rural Free Delivery. While Braddock was slowly 'feeling his way' through these solitudes, Washington managed to pull through the critical stage of his illness, and although too weak to ride in the saddle, had made shift to travel in one of the baggage wagons of a small convoy which had come through from Cumberland. Accompanied by these reinforcements, he IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 117 overtook the advance column on the 8th of July, as it lay encamped on the Monongahela, just one day before the fate- ful battle. The young colonel witnessed a soul-stirring scene on the following morning, when the troops, splendidly disci- plined and faultlessly equipped despite their long and toil- some marches, gaily forded the river and again re-forded to BRADDOCK'S BATTLEFIELD, SEEN FROM KENNYWCOD PARK Xow embraced within the town of Braddock, Pa. Photo by James Haddon, Uniontown, Pa. the northerly bank near 'Frazer's Run', preparatory to the expected meeting with the enemy. The attack by the lurking French and Indians was sud- den and vigorous when it came, and— as every American knows — the personal bravery of Braddock and the blind obedience of his British veterans proved unavailing to coun- teract the advantages of surprise and the cunning of their nimble and vengeful opponents. So much has been written concerning the ambuscade, the 'charmed life' of Washington, his reckless daring as he dashed about the fatal field, of the fall of Braddock, and of 118 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN the pitiful retreat in which the disheartened and terrified soldiers — alternately fighting and fleeing — strove to save their scalps from the howling savages, that the details of the story need no repetition. The present town of Braddock, Pa. — a suburb of Pitts- burgh — perpetuates by its name the location of the battle- ground of 1755 and the memory of the chief among the fal- len. So entirely unromantic is the aspect of the place, that it is impossible to imagine it as a locality where history was made. The busy hives of industry, the maze of railroad tracks, and the humble homes of the workers in its shops, tell the prosaic story of a struggling and accomplishing present rather than a picturesque and gallant past. It is well-nigh out of the question to form a correct idea of the original condition of Braddock's field, although there is a sort of ravine a short distance back from the river which some authorities have identified as the place where the Frenchman De Beaujeu and his mixed force of regulars, Canadians and savages lay hidden while the unsuspecting British were fording the Monongahela and getting into marching order. There has always been moie or less doubt as to the origin of the shot that brought down the bull-dog leader of the British expedition. Opinion seems to lean to the statement that he was fired upon by one of the Pennsyl- vania recruits, a certain ne'er- do-well Tom Fausett. who, — angered because of Brad- dock's perversity in insisting u p o n 'open fighting' — (whereas the provincial troops were quick to utilize the pro- tection of every rock and tree after the manner of the red- skins), deemed it a service to his fellow soldiers to bring down the wilful hero. Fausett, MajDi- O.nfral Edward Braddotk, of His Majesty's Coldstream Guards IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 119 COL. THOMAS DUNBAR'S ENCAMPMENT, near the Soldier's Orphan School, Jumonville, Pa., on the crest of the Allegheny Mountains. Here Dunbar was encamped at the time of Braddock's defeat (July 9th, 1755) and here, a few days later, he destroyed his ammunition. It is today a fruitful site for relic hunters. Photo by James Hiuklcn, Uniontown, Pa. who lived to an advanced age, was wont to insinuate that it was he who killed the general. Still I think we prefer to leave the matter in doubt. Amid the hail of bullets on that dis- astrous field, one shot more or less mattered not, and even though the well-meaning buck-private took a flying shot at his leader, neither he nor anyone else could know positively whether this ball or some other, aimed with equally benevo- lent intent, did the deadly work. Braddock, though mortally wounded, seems not to have lost his 'nerve'. Still entertaining hopes of a successful stand he dispatched Washington post haste to Dunbar's camp, while he, with the harassed remnants of his command, attempted to keep up some semblance of organization. And Washington, riding all that night in the drizzling rain, through the black darkness of the lonely forest, hastened toward the supply depot with the tidings of the defeat. At 120 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN daybreak on the 11th, he broke the news to the astounded Dunbar. We shall have occasion to go with George W^ashington through many trying ordeals before we reach the end of our tale, yet I do not think he ever afterward in his career lived over such another forty-eight hours. Half sick at the out- set, and riding a pillow-softened saddle; suddenly called upon to bring order out of chaos ; twice thrown from mortal- ly wounded mounts, and four times narrowly escaping death from bullets which passed so near as to puncture his cloth- ing; forming and covering the retreat of his comrades; and then the wild ride for succor, — wet, chilled and downcast in heart! And withal, he kept his courage and his wits. Luckily, the victorious French and their savage allies attempted no serious pursuit, being content with the spoils and scalps of the battleground. Uninterrupted, the retreat of the British continued. Braddock, game to the last, was dying when Dunbar's camp was reached. On the fourth day after the battle the end came, and that night, while the fugitive army lay sleeping the sleep of exhaustion on the borders of Great Meadows, Braddock was buried. It is a solemn scene. A little group of officers, wounded, weary and wretched, have gathered to perform the last ser- vice for their unfortunate commander. Wrapped in his regimentals, he has been reverently lowered into a shallow grave in the middle of the rough and newly cut mountain road. By the light of flickering torches, Washington reads in measured tones the simple Anglican service for the dead. As with the burial of Sir John Moore at Corunna, not a gun was heard nor a funeral note; naught save the plaintive hoot of the night-owl and the chirping of the tree-frog, unit- ing in Nature's nocturnal requiem. With tlie coming of a new day the retreat is continued, and the rumbling wagons, rolling over the spot, effectually conceal the location of the grave from any ghoulish pursuers. So completely were the traces of Braddock's place of IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 121 interment obliterated, that even Washington himself, seek- ing the spot many years later in order that it might be suit- ably marked, was unable to find it. Not until 1804, when some repair work was being done on the old road, were the remains discovered. The presence of military buttons and the insignia of rank exhumed with the bones, made the iden- tification almost positive. T o m Eausett, the al- leged slayer of Braddock, being at that time a very old man, still residing in i h e neighbor- h o o d, assured the diggers that this was the spot where the body had been buried. At the time of their finding, a re-burial of the bones was made BRADDOCK'S GRAVE as it appears to-day, showing the recently erected monument. At the dedication of this memor- ial in 1913, Secretary of State Knox and General Codrington at a nparbv «jnnt "^ ^''^ Coldstream Guards were present and made appropriate contiguous to the present course of the National Pike run- ning into Uniontcwn, a mile or two frcm the site of Fort Necessity and about three miles frcm the village of Ohio Pyle. Seventy years later, Mr. Josiah King, editor of the Pittsburgh Gazette, planted four sturdy hemlocks around the neglected grave and enclosed it with a neat fence. It was not until 1913 that the citizens of Fayette County erected and dedicated the beautiful memorial which is now plainly visible from the much-traveled highway and which catches the eye of every passer-by. It is a worthy tribute to the memory of a brave soldier. 122 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN Although it has now become famihar to those who pass by the spot from day to clay, I feel sure that it is as one of the new things along the life-path of Washington which I am privileged to present to the great body of history-loving readers throughout the country. Upon the front of the memorial is a bronze bas-relief of Braddock with the dedicatory inscription; upon the op- posite side the names of the committee who furthered this commendable project ; the western bronze recounts the his- toric details of the campaign of 1755; while the remaining tablet is a tribute sent from over the seas by the present officers of the famous Coldstream Guards, in brotherly recog- nition of the fact that Braddock commanded some of the soldiers of that historic regiment upon the fatal field where he fell. What a wonderful record is that of the British army, with its long roster of gallant leaders! In India you will find memorials to Clive and Havelock; in Egypt the foot- prints of Gordon and Kitchener ; in Belgium the victorious field of Wellington; and here — in the rolling meadow-land of Pennsylvania — a tribute to Braddock, who despaired not in defeat! To die far from home has been the reward of many another noble warrior and true, and if ever the hoped for reveille of the resurrection soundeth through the firma- ment, there will on that great day be a wonderful gathering of Britons from the four corners of the earth and from the islands of the sea! The present world dominion of Great Britain, "a mightier empire than hath ever been since the beginning," has been achieved at an appalling cost. There are several most interesting relics of Braddock in existence to-day, all of them affording tangible evidence of that border warfare which now seems but an echo of the far distant part. One of them is his immense silk sash, which was swung between the saddle bows of two steady horses and upon which he was borne, as in a hammock, when he could no longer endure the jolting of the wagon. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 123 This priceless souvenir came into the possession of President Zachary Taylor, from whom it descended through his daugh- ter to its present owners, one of the leading families of Vir- ginia. Another memento of the ill-fated Braddock is his dining table, which he left behind at Alexandria when he set out for the front. This fine old piece of English furniture is now in the possession of the Misses Eleanor G. and Sarah C. Hewitt of New York City. Then too, his gold watch — with case intact, but with works completely corroded — has been brought to light, having been found, not so long ago, near Great Meadows, at the 'Orchard Camp-site', possibly where it fell. It cannot be doubted that Braddock, rough and ready though he was, entertained kindly feelings toward Wash- ington; for just before he died he expressed the wish that his favorite horse might become the property of the young colo- nel. Washing- ton, on his part, was ever willing to say the kind- est things about the fallen hero, profiting by his errors rather than criticizing. Braddock's de- voted body- servant, Bishop, who had braved the dangers of battle and had attended his chief to the last, at once attached himself to the person of Colonel Washington in a similar capacity, and continued ' for many years to faithfully perform the duties of his humble station. As the depleted ranks of the defeated and returning ex- Section of the original 'Braddock's Road' near Great Meadows, Fayette Co.. Pa. Brrddock's Grave is beneath the trees on the left. He died at 'Orchard Camp' a half mile away, at a point be- yond the rising ground to the right. The slight 'dip' in the meadow which is noticeable in the foregro\ind and which leads in that di- rection marks the course of the abandoned roadway. 124 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN pedition neared the settlements they found that news of the disaster had arrived before them, spreading consternation among the dwellers on the border. BRADDOCK'S ROAD, BRIERY MOUNTAIN One of the most romantic stretches of the old Nemacolin trail, passing over the east slope of Briery Mountain between the 'Great Crossings' of the Youghiogheny at Somerfield and theviilage of Farmington, Pa. Photo, by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. Busy as he was with caring for the sick and wounded, Washington — none too well himself— found time,upon reach- ing Cumberland, to dispatch that now historic letter, in which he reassured his mother as to his safety, and briefly recounted the story of the battle, amid the dangers of which an over-ruling Providence had preserved him safe and sound. Col. Dunbar, having hastily broken camp and joined the shattered troops of Braddock as they passed over Laurel Hill, had destroyed all of his ammunition and surplus stores. He continued with the Virginia contingent as far as Cum- berland, but then, to the utter disgust of all in the provinces IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 125 he made haste to reach Philadelphia, and in that place set- tled down tranquilly for the winter. Mearwhile, the dis- traught frontier was left to look after itself, the name of Braddock to tarnish under the stigma of defeat, and as for Washington, there was naught for him to do but to encour- age the settlers with promises difficult of fulfilment and to seek the friendly shelter of his Mount Vernon estate for a brief period of recuperation. Washington felt keenly the ill-success of Braddock's ex- pedition as, for the second time, he came out of the wilder- ness, blameless, yet without the laurels of victory. It is plain that his mind could not have been filled with many consoling excuses, for he writes about this time in a spirit of deepest dejection — "I have been on the losing order ever since I entered the service, which is now nearly two years." Yet notwithstanding his vicissitudes, he seems to have gained rather than lost in personal prestige. He had given ample evidence of courage .and capability for leadership, and, with the royal forces out of the colony of Virginia, he was universally recognized as the resident military head. He himself, despite the fact that his special voluntary service had ended with the close of the campaign, continued to act as adjutant general of the northern division of the province. The Virginia militia, through a spirit of self-preserva- tion, I suppose, continued to hold together, and in these volunteers Washington never lost faith; although his pa- tience was sorely tried by the 'red tape' of the Dinwiddle government at Williamsburg. His attitude was one of con- stant readiness to serve, although — as he wrote to his mot^^er in response to her entreaties to risk his life no more — "if it is in my power to avoid going to the Ohio again, I shall." But the call did come again, and that right quickly. Governor Dinwiddle, yielding to public opinion, shortly ap- pointed him Commander-in-chief of all the forces of Vir- ginia "raised and to be raised." 126 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN For the next three years Washington's position was a most trying one. With a meagre force, seldom exceeding 700 men, he faced the problem of defending a frontier some 350 miles long. During these long months, when, tired by waiting and tried by circumstances beyond his control, his health again broke down. For a lengthy period he was com- pletely incapacitated, and lay critically ill at Mount Vernon, which circumstance, as may well be imagined, added greatly to his disgust. When he was able to be up and around once more, he established his headquarters at Winchester, where he found himself confronted with the two-fold problem of protecting the terrified inhabitants of the border and inducing his re- cruits to stay with him. So intolerant of restraint were some of the soldiery that Washington was forced to resort to severe measures of compulsion. There came also another annoying complication - — when the British Captain Dag- worthy, in charge at Fort Cumberland, refused to execute the orders of Washington because of the fact that the latter was merely a colonial officer. Determined to have all the jurisdiction over his territory or 7ione, Washington jour- neyed all the way to Boston in order to obtain an authorita- tive decision from General Shirley, the supreme command- ant of the royal forces in America. Reinforced with Shirley's sanction of his position and authority, he hastened back to Virginia, where he made herculean efforts to stir up the apathetic legislature of his native colony to a realization of the desperate straights of their constituents in the border territory. He was partially successful in this regard ; a few more companies of troops were eventually organized and Fort Loudoun was erected to protect the Shenandoah Val- ley. Winchester is the most readily accessible of all the places associated with Washington's .frontier campaigns. The remote border settlement of 1756-'58 has grown into a town of goodly proportions, enriched by much Civil War IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 127 history, with memories of many an exciting cavalry action, rapid march or midnight raid. Yet "Washington's Head- quarters" is still preserved — a little house, half frame, half stone, in which he lodged at intervals during those years when, the rugged path of duty crossed and re- crossed the great divide. Washington real- ized that the French forts o n the Ohio were an ever-present men- Washington's Headquarters, Winchester, Va. ace, and until this disturbing factor could be eliminated there could be no rest for the settlers on the frontier. The Indians, encouraged by the French, persisted in acts of wan- ton hostility, and Washington— who sympathized thoroughly with the harried pioneers, — began urging another well- organized movement against the common enemy. Those Virginians high in authority agreed that the idea was excel- lent, but months and years passed with nothing definite ac- complished. Not until the summer of 17*58 did Washington receive orders to proceed to Fort Cumberland, where — after another long period of waiting, — he joined his forces with those of Maryland and Pennsylvania, to proceed, under the direction of General John Forbes, in a final attempt against Fort Duquesne. In spite of the fact that the Braddock road through Great Meadows offered a well beaten path for the expedi- tion, some of the royal officers decided upon opening a new track over the mountains through the southern counties of Pennsylvania. There were two reasons for this; first, the British forces were, in 1758, operating from Philadelphia 128 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN via Carlisle and Shippensburg, — second, the Pennsylvan- ians wanted an avenue of communication with the West traversing their own colony. In short, General Forbes' ex- pedition was not, as Braddock's had been, organized in Vir- ginia and chiefly guided by the policies of that province. There was much talk of dividing the forces; thus per- mitting the Virginians to follow their own favored route. Against this alternative, as well as the opening of the new road, Washington strongly protested. W^hile successful in his advocacy of a united advance, he 'lost out' in his argu- ments against the projected course through the unbroken forests of Pennsylvania. Thus it was that several months were consumed in breaking the trail from the Potomac to Raystown and then cutting due west through virgin forests over the northern reaches of the Allegheny s to L y a 1 h a n- na. (near what is now Latrobe, Pa., on the trunk line o f the Pennsyl- y a n i a railroad from Harrisburg t o Pittsburgh). This new path across the moun- old 'Carlisle inn-, Carlisle pa. Here Washington is reputed to have put up tains is known to historians when visiting the small settlement of early days. as 'the Glade Trail' and was ^^""^*^^^' °* ^"^ ^'^'"'^^°" ^"> destined— like the Braddock road— to become a great com- mercial highway. Not until the loth of November did the entire expedi- tionary force arrive at Loyalhanna, still separated from Fort Duquesne by fifty miles of rugged country. Already IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 129 the French had given evidence of watchfuhiess, having ut- terly routed an advance party sent out under Major Grant. This dis-spiriting encounter, with the rapid approach of an- other winter, nearly turned the purpose of the enterprise. ALONG THE 'FORBES ROAD' A birdseye view of Schellsburg, Bedford County, Pa. Here, in 1758. SiriJohn St. Clair, (who was a veteran of Braddock's campaign) erected a redoubt, at or near the site of the old Shawnee village. Photo by Prof. John K. Lacock. General Forbes was ill; in fact during almost the entire campaign he had been carried on a litter. Colonel Bouquet seems to have borne the responsibility for the making of the new roadway, in the construction of which difficulties had been encountered very similar to those which faced Braddock three years before, although, to be sure, Forbes' route crossed but three mountains and not nearly so many streams as did Braddock's, and was besides thirty to forty miles shorter. Prof. John Kennedy Lacock of Harvard ITniversity, who has made a careful study of the subject, gives the following authoritative facts: "Braddock's experience had revealed the necessity of having a stockade camp a"d blockhouses, with magazines for provisions closer together This Foib"s did. and in addition erected a number of redoubts which in case of defeat world fnrnish a refuge for the troops if hard pressed. Remains of many of these b-eastworks or redoubts can be seen to this day. The one in the best state of preservation is McLean's redoubt, seventy-two feet on every side and in some p'aces three feet high, situated on the summit of A'legheny mountain, a short distance from the Wilderness Club house. In the mountains, where the cut is sometimes as deep as ten feet, evidences of the road are very pronounced. Its course lay through the counties of Bedford, Somerset, Westmoreland, and Allegheny, passing at or near the following places — Bedford, (O'd Raystown). Wolfsburg, SchelUburg. Edmonds Swamp (three miles north ol Buckstown). Stoystown. Ligonier, Youngstown. Unity Church, (near which spot it crossed the line of the present Pennsylvania railroad), Cld Hanna^town to a point four mi'.es east of Bushy Run, Bouquet, Murrysville, and so on to Pittsburgh." 130 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN General Forbes has been criticized almost as bitterly as Braddock, yet we have evidence that he gave his closest reflection not only to the subject of the advance, but also to the safeguarding of his line of retreat. Nevertheless, the encampment at Old Hannastown might have marked the farthest progress of the expedition had not fortune unex- pectedly interposed in favor of the British commander. OLD HAXNASTOVVN. WESTMORELAND COUNTY, PA. Situated on the 'Forbes Road' some three miles north of Gre^nsburg, Pa., and about twice that distance west of modern Loyalhanna. A few rods west- ward was the site of the 'Three R 'doubts Fort', built in 1758. Photo by Prof. John K. Lacock. While debating as to the prudent course, chance in- formation came to the effect that the French themselves Vvcre at their 'wits' end to subsist, their supplies and rein- forcements from Canada having failed them completely. Encouraged by this ne'vvs, the -v^'avering Forbes determined upon a rapid dash to the Monongahela, — -with Washington in personal command of the vanguard of a thousand men, - — exercising a caution born of the remembrance of poor Braddock's fate. The last episode of the French and Indian War was destined, however, to be bloodless. The garrison of Fort Duquesne, aware of approaching retribution, de- termined to exercise discretionary valor, and forthwith hast- ily decamped, leaving nothing but a smouldering ruin to fall into the hands of the victors. Thus, on the 2oth of November, 1758, were the efforts of five years rewarded IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 131 SITK OF 'FORT LIGONIER', LIGONIER, PA. This strong position on the Loyalhanna Creek was the first fort built by the English west of the Allegheny Moiintains. In 1758 it served as a main base of supp ies between B( df ord (Raystown) and Pittsburgh. A few rods from the fort, the 'Forbes Road' forded the stream. Photo by Prof. John K. Laeock. and the British assured of the future mastery of the Ohio and its tributaries. Pittsburgh, the mighty commercial city of to-day, named in honor of William Pitt, — that able British states- man who was, in turn, the friend of the struggling American colonies and of the free United States — has arisen around the ancient site of Fort Duquesne ; not merely 'at the forks of the Ohio', but spreading in all directions away beyond the confluence of the Allegheny and the Monongahela, a vast metropolis of industry. Amid its tall buildings, stacks and shops there is preserved just one relic of pioneer days. Down at the extreme point where the waters meet, once tucked between modern structures and but lately awarded its just quota of elbow-room, stands the time worn block house portrayed at the beginning of the chapter. It occupies the site of the original fort, and was built in 1764 by Colonel Henry Bouquet, one of the officers who had served with Forbes and Washington and who subsequently continued in command at this outpost. 132 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN The people of Pittsburgh justly regard this old fort as their historic talisman, for it exemplifies the spirit of determined enterprise and perseverance which has made their city 'the Gateway of the West'. Fort Pitt, although built six years after the fall of Duquesne, is contemporary with Washing- ton's activities and was most certainly seen by him when, in 1770, he again visited the lands of the Ohio val- ley. It fitly com- memorates the goal of those ardent efforts of his early years, when "in the service of the Crown," he looked ahead into the future. Of still greater significance is this little square house of darkened brick when we recall that it marks the first great step in the Westward course of our expanding empire. By this route, with faces toward the ever-receding sunset, have passed in turn the Kentucky pioneer, the settler bound for the vast wheat lands of the Middle W^est, the future ranchman of the Dakotas and the gold-seeker of California. At Pitts- burgh the East ends and the West begins. No one can stand at the point of land where the Ohio has its birth without thinking of the great Mississippi into which it fiows. The flat-bottomed steamboats — with end paddle- wheels and pairs of crown-rimmed smoke stacks — carry BRADDOCK'S SPUING, McKEESPOKT, i'A. On the site of one of the hist halting places of the ill-fat( d expedition of 1755. before the battle of the Monougahela. Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 133 your thoughts away to the cotton-piled levees and the Southern gulf. At Fort Pitt the original border-land which our fathers won for freedom merges into the greater America beyond the mountain barrier which newer generations have reclaimed from the wilderness and made habitable. It is impossible to visit Pittsburgh without experienc- ing a thrill of admiration for its marvelous industrial growth. Millions and hundreds of millions of capital, in- vested in iron and steel, have resulted in a bewildering expanse of founderies, smelters and furnaces. To one unfamiliar with the sight, the night approach to Pittsburgh seems unearthly in its fear- ful grandeur; it is one of the world's wonderful experiences. For miles the banks of the jMonongahela are lined with mighty establishments, which — illuminated by the ghastly glare of ascending flames, exhausts and white-hot metal — present a never-to-be-for- gotten panorama, compared with which the fabled 'in- fernal regions' must be cool and quiet. But instead of tor- menting lost souls, these busy plants are filling pay-envel- Queen .Vliquippas Rocks, McKeespoit, Pa. opes and bringing independ- f^^^ ^^% rugged b-uff was located the ^ B o 1 Indian village at which Washington stopped ence and comfort to indus- ""^ ^'' '"'"''"■" •'''Y75I ^'"°™ ^''°^"^° ''^ trioUS thousands. ^'^0*0 ^y Em. K. Wellcr, Washington, Pa. Let us now go back to 1758, when the victorious troops of General Forbes turned their faces once more to the East, leaving the ensign of Britain fluttering gaily to the breezes of the Ohio from the ruined palisades of the French out- post. Washington realized that his work ^a as done. With 134 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN the soldiers of France put to flight and their Indian allies disposed of, the prospect of a peace of long duration seemed assured. The long-suffering settlers could now breath freely, and the Virginia Colonel, with a sense of duty well performed, was nothing loath to resign his command and repair once again to Mount Vernon. Although it was mid- winter, with snow upon the ground, perhaps — and squally blasts whistling through the beeches by the mill creek — December at the cheery Potomac mansion must have seemed to him as pleasant as May. The twenty-seventh year of Washington's life had, in many ways, been an eventful one. Besides bringing him military honors, it had witnessed the rising of his political star. While far removed from Virginia, with such a thing as 'electioneering' un-thought-of, he had been elected a member of the House of Burgesses from Frederick County, being victorious over four opponents. The celebration of this triumph at the polls had been rather a cosLy proceed- ing for the frugal Washington. A certain Colonel Wood stood proxy for him in his victory pageant, and was carried around the town of Alexandria upon the shoulders of the THE FORDING PLACE, SALT LICK CREEK, HUNKERS, PA. Another historic spot on the famous 'Braddock Road' between Mount Pleasant and McKeeisport. At this point the trail has long since been abandoned for newer and more convenient highways. Photo by Ern. K. Weller, Washington, Pa. IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 135 9lj - ^^# ,l§m^ £ * ■HI iir^"*~ ^^*^ a ^^0S0r- -'wr.T' *■ ■' WILLIAMSBURG, VA. This is another section of the Duke of Gloucester Street, now 'improved' into a 'corduroy road' by planking, thrown across the mud. Colonel Washington passed this spot whenever he journeyed to the provincial capitol. crowd amid deafening huzzahs. The admirers of Washing- ton then proceeded to run up a goodly sized bill for liquid refreshments, which — according to custom — he was bound to settle. Some 'forty pounds worth of punch, wine and strong beer' was consumed by his zealous adherents on the occasion of this jubilee. Quite a nice little party, was it not? Again, the year 1758 was one never to be forgotten by 'Colonel George of Mount Vernon' because it settled his matrimonial fate and sealed his conjugal fortune. With the advent of a new January there came also wedding bells. At the outset of this chapter we promised to weave into the fabric of our narrative a few bright strands of romance, and to tell all we knew about W^ashington's love episodes. So-called 'love' and its coincident follies is no respecter of persons, and usually takes stronger hold upon the world's men of mark than the plain, ordinary, 'no account folks' whom we run across in the everyday walks of life. As a matter of course the foibles and short-comings of those in 136 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN high places are widely exploited and receive more than their due of publicity and sometimes censure. Happily, the biog- raphers of Washington have been confronted with few rough spots which have required 'glossing over', or deep stains on the escutcheon of his character to tax their eva- sive ingenuity. Admittedly, his record is far above the average, and his uniform good judgment asserted itself so forcefully in his private life that we find nothing therein to shatter our ideals. I doubt not that he was very human, and there may be some foundation in fact for the yarns relative to his escapades, which stories — having been passed from one generation to another — are still current in Virginia. Even accepting as truth the veiled intimation that seme of his adventures were by no means platonic, we like Washington none the less, being drawn closer to him by a knowledge of our own vulnerability. Certain it is that he was highly re- spected by those who knew him best. The Virginia gentle- man of to-day, who is more apt to regard him as a 'late lamented neighbor' than as America's greatest citizen, will probably appraise him, in terms of affectionate familiarity, as a "high class sport." This was the precise language used in my hearing on one occasion. And indeed such an esti- mate, coming from a man of the world, is about as appreci- ative a tribute as one gentleman — not too Puritanical — could pay to another. We gather, from the frank admissions in Washington's boyhood letters, that he began to be susceptible to the charms of the opposite sex at an early age. But in those days he had small opportunity for 'skylarking'. Whatever may have been his inclinations, he was tightly bound by maternal restrictions during the years spent at Fredericks- burg, and it is not surprising that — smitten with admira- tion for someone, out of reach by reason of his youth and colonial discipline — he occasionally succumbed to 'the blues'. Little scraps of his boyish verse have come down to m THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 137 us, poetry immature yet eloquent, — grandiose attempts at the expression of that passion which older minds realize cannot possibly be expressed — attesting to the fact that he was devoured by the internal fires of the 'girl-craze.' The quaint old Cary House at Williamsburg in which once lived an tarly sweetheart of George Washington At Mount Vernon he found himself free from the restraints of boyhood, and at seventeen — that age so aptly delineated by Booth Tarkington — he devoted more or less time to the writing of letters, some of them still extant, — in which sentiment occupied a conspicuous place. Young Washington dearly loved the company of refined women, and at Belvoir and Williamsburg found opportunity to meet some of the most charming debutantes of northern Virginia. These friendships undoubtedly contributed to broaden and polish the character of the youthful surveyor. The story that he courted Sally Cary, who became the wife of his friend George Fairfax, is quite evidently an error, for she had been wedded for a year before W^ashington met her, and was his senior by at least six years. There was, however, a younger sister, Molly, who frequently visited Belvoir, a "very agreeable young lady" for whom 'G. W.' 138 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 1 evidenced a high regard. Were it not, as he himself wrote, for a certain "lowland beauty," the aforesaid Molly might have completely captivated him. The identity of this "lowland beauty" has been a favor- ite subject for dispute. Until quite recently she was thought to have been a Miss Lucy Grymes who subse- quently married Henry Lee and became the mother of 'Light Horse Harry' Lee of Revolutionary fame. But the discovery, not long ago, of a letter written by W^ashington in his twentieth year to one William Fauntelroy of 'Naylor's Hold' on the Rappahannock, about fifteen miles from Wakefield, seems to indicate that it was the latter's daughter Betsy who had appealed so strongly to the youth in the wilderness. That she had, more- over, given Washington 'the mitten', is quite evident from his epistle, which ventures the hope of a "revocation of the former cruel sentence." She m u s t therefore have spoken her "nay" before W a s h i n g t o n's visit to Barbados, when he was but nineteen and she 'sweet sixteen'. Cruel sentence indeed, which per- haps she afterward regretted; for her unsuccessful suitor not only 'lived through it' but repeatedly thereafter made love in the good old fashioned way. One of the more mature exploits of Washington in the field of heart-conquest was his brief intimacy with and lasting admiration for a New York girl — Mary Philipse of Yonkers, — whom he met upon the occasion of his first visit to the North in 1756. After his stirring adventures in Braddock's campaign, his recep- MARY PHILIPSE-MORRIS Original portrait by John Woolaston in possession of the Misses Philii)se of New York IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 139 The PHILIPSE MANOR HOUSE. Yonkers, N. Y., the most notable hiiid-niark in Westchester County. Not only as the home of Mary Philippe, for whom \N ashington entertained high regard, but for its two and a quarter centuries of regional history, is it justly venerated and adequately cared for. tion was everywhere most enthusiastic; he was, in fact, regarded as a social Hon, the hero of the hour. Under these circumstances. — an elegant young soldier, representing the 'b.ue blood' of Virginia, — he was received with distinction by the aristocracy of the Hudson. Among those who smiled upon him was fair Mary, and George smiled in return. Yet it is probable that the short duration cf his stay permitted little more than the beginning of a, premising friendship, which, after Mary's marriage in 1758 to Major Robert Morris. — one of Washington's ccmpanions in arms during the border war, — must of necessity have vaporized. Had Washington been a resident of New York City, it is likely that his wooing would have been prosecuted with great ardour. As it was, he returned to Virginia a 'free lance'. The old Philipse Manor House, built — some declare — i!S early as 1682, still adorns the principal street of Yonkers and is the most interesting building in Westchester County. In 1755 it was occupied by Frederick Philipse, who was accounted one of the wealthiest land owners on the Hudson. In 1776, when Washington again passed through the town 140 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN in his 'fighting retreat' it was forsaken by its royalist owners. There can be no doubt that the patriot leader felt more than ordinaiy interest in this ample homestead, although well- remembered Mary, with her husband — who had also espoused the cause of the King, — had been driven from her New York mansion before the advance of the Americans, and subsequently embarked for England. Who can deny that there is something fascinating about meeting an old sweetheart or passing beneath her once-frequented window- ledge? The Yonkers house is still well preserved, and was until a few years ago used as the City Hall. It stands on Warburton Avenue, one block north of Main Street, and as an interesting memento of Washington and his times, is well worthy of a visit. The circumstances of Washington's first meeting with the 'widow Custis', who finally captured his hand and heart, are quite well known. In the midst of his preparations for the final campaign against the French, he had occasion to make a hurried journey from Winchester to \Villiams- burg. En route he accepted the invitation of a Major Chamberlain, who lived near the Pamunky River in New Kent County, to tarry for dinner. Among the guests at the Chamberlain house was Mrs. Martha Dandridge Custis, the widow of Colonel Daniel Parke Custis and the mother of two handsome little children, John and Martha. She was just three months younger than Washington. From the time of their introduction, it seems to have been a case of a strong mutual liking. We might almost say of 'love at first sight.' Thus George Washington, who had for ten years been tossed about on a sea of conflicting amours, met his Waterloo. When a captivating widow looks with favor upon a sin- cere but hesitating youth, she, of all women, knows how to bring his attentions to a focus and help him across the 'psychological moment' which bridges the eternal instant IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 141 between single blessedness and wedded bliss. Widows have had the benefit of experience, and usually know their own minds, which is a knowledge seldom possessed by either gallant swains or blushing misses. Widows, naturally, have a keener insight into the heart of a man ; they can see his weak points, maybe, but they also have the abihty to recognize true worth and to justly estimate character. Washington's fate was sealed from the moment of this chance meeting. During his brief stay at the colonial capital he made it his business to visit Mrs. Custis at her own 'White House' not far from Williamsburg, and vvhen he set forth on his last march to the Ohio he carried in his heart her promise. Quick action indeed: far speedier than the progress of the campaign, which moved so slowly that our hero had yet another opportunity of paying a flying visit to his betrothed before actual hostil- ities commenced. It is a source of little wonder that within a month after Wash- ington's return from Fort Duquesne, — on January 6th, 1759, to be exact — the wedding was duly solemnized "on a scale commensurate with the wealth and standing of the contracting parties," as an old writer expresses it. The time-worn adage about marrying in haste and repenting at leisure was not proven in this instance, for the union turned out to be a fortunate and happy one, and neither of the 'parties thereto' ever had reason to regret the momentous step which was to make them one for forty long years. Martha Custis, it may be said, was independently MARTHA CUSTIS, the charming widow who won the heart of Wash- ington. Quaintly described as "not tall but extremely wel' shaped, with an agreeable countenance, dark hazel eves and hair, and frank, en- gaging Southern manners." 142 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN v/ealthy in her own right, for Colonel Custis had bequeathed to herself and children a fortune variously stated as between one and two hundred thousand dollars. This ample com- petency coupled w4th Washington's own assets, swelled their joint fortune to what was, in those days, an enormous figure. It is a known fact that in his latter years George Washing- ton was rated as the wealthiest man in the colonies. The historic nuptials were celebrated, it is presumed, at the Custis residence. J. T. Headley, the biographer of Washington, gives the following description cf the event: "From far and near came the laced coats and powdered hair and long cues, till the hospitable mansion overflowed with the wealth and beauty and pride of the colony. And a noble couple they were — the colonel six feet three inches in height. towering above all around, and the beautiful bride radiant with happiness. The rafters of the huge mansion rung that night with mirth and gaiety." The Reverend David Mossom, for forty years rector of the little parish of New Kent, was the officiating clergy- man, and upon the day following their marriage the 'newly- v/eds' attended cervices at St. Peter's Church a few miles distant. The contemporary description given below, with the incident information regarding the trousseau of the bride, may possibly interest the ladies: "They came in bridal state, coach and four and a train of wedding guests, among whom was Speaker John Robinson and members of the House of Burgesses. At the marriage ceremony, the bride was attired in a heavy brocade si k interwoven with silver thread, embroidered satin petticoat, high heeled satin shoes with buckles of brilliants, point lace and ruffles ; her ornaments were a pearl necklace, earings and 'bracelets. The bridegroom appeared in citizen's dress of blue cloth; the coat em- broidered white satin, his shoes and knee buckles were of gold; his hair was pow- dered and at his side hung a dress sword." About this time Colonel Washington repaired to Williamsburg where he was to take his seat as a member of the Assembly, and for the period of the session resided with the new Mrs. Washington at her old home near the capital Permit me to once again quote from Headley: "During the session the speaker was directed, by a vote of the House, to return the thanks of the colony to Colonel Washington for the distinguished military services he had rendered. This the eloquent speaker did in a manner to suit himself, and poured forth a strain of eulogium at once unexpected and embarrassing. Wash- ington, taken wholly by surprise, rose to reply, but could not stammer forth a single word. Out of his painful dilemma the witty speaker helped him as gener- ously as he had lielped him into it. 'Sit down, Mr. Washington,' said he, 'your modesty equals your valor, and that surpasses the power of any language that I possess'. Nothing could have been more elegant and skillful than this double stroKe, which at once relieved Washington, while it enhanced the compliment." IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 143 Somewhere about the middle of April, 1759, Colonel Washington brought his bride to his own beautiful estate at Mount Vernon and entered upon a sixteen year span of well nigh unalloyed happiness. He had now secured a com- plete title to the Potomac mansion, for upon the re-marriage of Lawrence's widow, he had bought out her interest in the property for a liberal consideration. John Augustine Wash- ington, who had long looked after these broad acres, had beaten his brother George in the mar- riage game by a few months, and had set up for himself farther down the river near Wake- field, where the first of the family had settled sixty years before. George Washing- ton, pre - eminent- ly a practical man cf business, found no d i ffi c u 1 1 y in securing competent overseers f o r his extensive property holdings. Assuming as he did the role of general manager and executive head, farming for him possessed no ele- ment of drndo-orv .. ^^^^^'^ ^"^ Washington (aftr Houdon) lllCllU Ul UlUUgtiy. Conytn-eted by James Hadden, of Uniontown, Pa, S1«VPC well far] ^''°™ ^^^ ^°°^ °^ th*^ ^' d cherry tree which grew k^ldVCfe, wen I e CI , withm the lines ot Fort Necessity. v/ell housed and exceedingly prolific, solved the ^abor ques- 144 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN tion' without dispute. His immediate subordinates were drilled in efficiency and loyalty, his ample means and unquestioned rating assured him a ready market for the product of his fields, and prosperity crowned his business ventures as good fortune had rewarded his marital determin- ation. Washington was not one to be satisfied with merely a comfortable living. For him there was no 'burying of the talent wrapped in a napkin'. To his mind, years of abun- dant harvest without financial gain would have been time wasted. Yet in his private business affairs as in the service of the public, he always gave one hundred cents on the dollar. He was ^ j/' ^^^^^ ,/^ an ardent advocate of square ^ ./^ti<^ c?r?-^x,^^^^ ^ self on the uniformly excel- /^--^c-^^-^^^-"^^ ~y - - - lent quality of his flour, ^<^,,,,^^^i^Cc^ ,. ^ x% affirming confidently that it ^^<^^^-ii^*=L^ - _ ._ - -^ creasing circle of friends. ^-^^^^ ^X^ ; ^»^tU^ ^ During the halcyon and / /^,u^'A^^-^-^>r^J^^:^ idylic years between 1759 ^^:>^<^ ^>^^^ - 4, and 1775 — the period of ^,Pl^,i^ ' ~ ~-j ' ' ' _ j^^ repose and calm before the 6 -^?^t^»-^u^^ 2^ R e V lu t i n a r y storm, K:^''^ ^^'^ ~"^J _9 PhA/_^ _ - - -. _- o-a, Keduced facsimile of Washington's memoranda, re- /Q .^fei<.,^^^^-\.^X.-y. --^^ ferring to trees and shrubs at Mount Vernon. yj /i ^ ^ ^ ^- ' -^ '• « Courtesy of J. A. Craig, Paterson, N. J. ^Z^^^^"^ ^ _ . - _ - . ~o (Note the spelling, 'Yeller wilier' etc.) ^*^ <2^X. -^■- _ *. _ _ _ *—*• IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN 145 which was to lead him, involuntarily, through the deep waters of trial to the foremost place in the annals of American history — Washington realized his ideals of domestic felicity ; his manner of living was exactly as he had planned it, and thoroughly concurrent with his conception of 'getting the most out of life'. The long and agreeable intervals between his legislative duties at Williamsburg (for he continued to serve his constituents at each succeeding assembly) gave ample opportunity for the systematic expansion of the Mount Vernon plantation, and the devel- opment of its resources with scientific precision. One item of routine in this connection seems to have afforded especial delight to Washington. It was the mathematical and clerical work of the farm. True to his ear^y instincts, he gloried in the making of maps and surveys, detailed draw- ings of projected improvements, and carefully tabulated account books and memoranda. Not until the beginning of the Revolution did he relinquish his 'book-keeping depart- ment' into other hands, while the worthy Tobias Lear, his private secretary of later years, does not appear on the scene until the presidential period and Washington's last sojourn beside the Potomac. W^ashington's business docu- ments and records, like the copy-books of his boyhood, all evince neatness and painstaking care, although sometimes he has fallen down in his orthography. Colonel Washington, in the autumn of 1770, made his fifth excursion to the west of the Alleghenys. It was a nine weeks tour, undertaken in company with his friendly neighbor and physician. Dr. Craik; these two being joined at Stewart's Crossings by Colonel William Crawford, one of the pioneers of Pennsylvania. No longer was the path en- dangered by lurking Frenchmen, for with Wolfe's sacrifice upon the plains of Quebec in 1759, the continent had been won for England. Hence, their arrival at Fort Duquesne — on the 17th of October — was that of peaceful travelers, who "lodged at Sample's, a very good house of public entertainment." According to Washington, the post was 146 IN THE SERVICE OF THE CROWN now considerably more than a block-house, for they "found there a town of about twenty log houses on the Monongahela, 300 yards from the fort, inhabited largely by Indian traders." The little party then proceeded down the Ohio to the Great Kanawha, where they viewed the lands awarded to the Virginia troops for their military services. On the return journey, Washington visited some of his own property in what is now Mt. Pleasant township, Washington County, stopped overnight at Thomas Gist's estate, renewed old acquaintances with Fort Necessity and Great Meadows, and cut back over the mountains by the well-remembered Braddock road. W^ashington's sphere of activity had somewhat nar- rowed during the years of peace and plenty at Mount Vernon. Never demonstrative in the performance of his com- monplace duties for home and province, he seemed likely to be hidden henceforth from the eyes of the world and in a fair way to enjoy forever the 'simple life' he coveted. Yet the fact that even his near neighbors regarded him as something out of the ordinary may be gathered from the following contemporary description, as recorded in the words of a fellow Virginian, Captain George Mercer, who had traveled in his company to Boston in 1756 and who knew him intimately: "He is as straight as any Indian, measuring six feet two inches in his stock- ings, and weighing 175 pounds. His frame is padded with well developed muscles, indicating great strength. He is wide shouldered, is neat wristed. broad across the hips, and has rather long limbs. His head is well shaped and gracefully poised on a superb neck. A large and straight rather than a prominent nose; blue-gray, penetrating e.v es — which are overhung by a heavy brow, high cheek bones and a good firm chin. He has a clear though rather colorless skin, which burns with the sun : dark brown hair — which he wears in a cue: and a pleasing and benevo'ent though rather a commanding countenance. His mouth is large and generally firmly closed, and his features are regular and placid, although expressive of deep feeling whm moved by emotions. Tn conversation he looks you full in the face, is deliberate, ile'crential and engaging. His voice is agreeable rather than strong and his demeanor at all times composed and dignified. His movements and ge.stures are graceful, his walk majestic, and he is a splendid horseman." This then was the manner of man who had faithfully served his sovereign and state, had dealt honorably with his fellow-men, had proven himself a dutiful son and a devoted husband, and who now — like Moses in the wilder- ness — was being held in reserve for a higher and more noble service in freedom's cause! ^'ii^'^- IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE ■THK OLD ELM", CAM- BRIDGE, MASS., UNDER WHICH WASHINGTON TOOK COMMAND OF THE CONTINENTAL ARMY — 1775 amuel Adams has been called "the father of the Revo- lution," and because of the prominent part played by New England in the opening days of the struggle for independence, most of us have unconsciously become im- bued with the idea that the war had its beginnings 'away down East.' Men of the type of Hancock and Otis, Hop- kins and Sherman, who here gave free expression to their convictions; and such stirring events as the Boston Mass- acre and the Tea Party, have tended to focus our eyes upon the northern colonies. And while it is true that the guns of Lexington marked the actual commencement of hostili- ties, we must not forget the fact that for several years prior to this open rupture with Great Britain every one of the provinces had been deeply stirred by a sense of royal in- justice, and that during the months immediately preced- ing that eventful "nineteenth of April in 'seventy-five,' " 148 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE the spirit of ferment had openly manifested itself in all the leading cities of the Atlantic seaboard and the provincial capitals where commerce and industry had felt most heavily the hand of the tax-gatherer and the domineering presence of the king's rapacious minions. It was purely as a Virginian that Washington gradually became affected by the disturbing trend of local events and the increasing restlessness of the times. Virginia was in no respect more backward than Massachusetts in asserting her sovereign rights, and as early as 1765, Washington [still rep- resenting his constituents at Williamsburg] found himself in the midst of a hot-bed of discontent consequent to the passage of the 'stamp act.' I do not propose to re-write the history of the ten years of agitation prior to the Revolution, when the first sparks of resentment, fanned by oft-repeated acts of Parliamentary tyranny, smoldered awhile and then burst into fl a m e. While Hancock and 'the Adamses' were stirring New Eng- land, while New York was erecting liberty poles on 'Golden Hill', while sedate Philadelphia protested solemnly through the warn- ing voices of Frank- lin and Ross, the balmy breezes of the Southland were likewise fanned into v^ h i r 1 w i n d s of remonstrance. Williamsburg became a 'nest of sedition'; at least so thought Governor Dunmore. In this now drowsy town a The old "Powder Horn", Williamsburg. Va. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 149 torch was lighted which in turn kindled the beacons of liberty upon a thousand hills. Dunniore prorogued the House of Burgesses, but the representatives of the people re- convened at the old Raleigh Tavern and had their say. Of course, it was 'uncfiicial,' but it was far more efficacious in its consequences than all the check-mating designs of the King's ministers. The famous 'Virginia Bill of Rights' had its birth here, giving immortality to the names of Patrick Henry and George Mason, and entitling Virginia to a place first among the colonies who openly voiced defiance to the crown. The famous old 'Powder Horn' at Williamsburg is a relic of these disturbed times. It is a very unusual octagon- al tower with walls eight feet thick, erected somewhere about 1715, during the administration of Sir Alexander Spotswood, one of the 'good governors' of very early days. Situated on the main thoroughfare, (the Duke of Gloucester Street) it has been in closest touch with the local happenings of two centuries. As its name implies, it long served as a mag- azine; and here, just prior to the Revolution, the enraged governor seized a goodly store of gunpowder, lest it should be appropriated by patriot hands for use against royal authority. Seventy years ago this ancient repository for com- bustibles was a store-house of 'spiritual fire' for it was then used as a Baptist meeting house. To-day we find it trans- formed into a museum, with a great variety of interesting but dusty curios under the guardianship of a chatty spinster. While she does not maintain a 'tidy house', she is most obliging and courteous, and the visitor who happens to saun- ter in during a quiet hour will be amply compensated, al- though the dingy old donjon with its stone-paved floor and lofty beams, entwined by cobwebs long undisturbed and supporting a roof leaky with age, — reminds the visitor of a sombre and musty cell in a merlieval castle rather than a relic of colonial America. The immortal "give me liberty or death" speech of 150 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE Patrick Henry, perhaps the most famous of all expressions of early American patriotism, was voiced in the presence of the tense and awe-struck 'Virginia Convention', assembled in 1775 at old St. John's Church, Richmond ; for in the city on the James, already begin- ning to be a place of some conse- q u e n c e, the righteous anger of the people de- manded expres- sion in no uncer- tain tones. The ancient sanctu- arV stands to- ®*'' John's church, Richmond, Va. day in time-honored simplicity, just as it did when the energetic little lawyer roused the spirit of the long suffering delegates to the point of frenzy. The far-away events of this glorious epoch seem in- tensely vivid to the traveler in old Virginia. South of Richmond we find ourselves riding in a vestibuled car over practically the same road that Patrick Henry traveled on horseback, and we have no difficulty in conjuring up from the dead past his curious figure, with three-cornered hat and coat tails a-flutter, as he rode from Hanover Court House to Williamsburg. And in the latter town we rattle over a 'thank-you-ma'am' corduroy road to the very spot where the entire colonial assembly of Burgesses congregated, — the site of the Virginia capitol, — where from 1759 to 1775 Wash- ington himself represented his constituents with dignity and decorum. This historic structure was long since de- stroyed by fire, but upon a bit of open ground at the south- erly end of Williamsburg's long avenue, the sturdy founda- tions may yet be seen. Here also is a monument, and the traveler who is suflSciently interested to pause and read the IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 151 inscription upon its tablet cf bronze will learn that those other famous words of Patrick Henry, the ominous warning to George the Third, were uttered upon this very spot. Shut out for a moment the brightness of the Virginia sunshine and the beauties of the flower-bedecked field in v/hich you stand; forget all about the practical little auto which pants nois- ily in the road be- hind, better cut off the 'gas' and let it v/ait your pleasure. Fancy y o u r s el f within the long- vanished,high-win- dowed hall of the eighteenth cen- tury. The house is jammed: the honorable burgess- es are in their al- lotted seats. Privil- eged visitors line the walls: without is a crowd of those less fortunate — with due accompaniment of waiting horses, chaises and sedan-chairs. The Legislature convenes, debate begins; one after another of those whose names are des- tined to go down into history take the floor and speak in no uncertain terms. Yet' it remains for the little barrister from the backwoods, — he of the unprepossessing mien and con spicuous, horn rimmed spectacles, to cap the climax with that startling burst of eloquence, which shall go ringing down the ages as the challenge of the oppressed to the oppressor. One wonders just what were the innermost thoughts of Washington at this historic moment, as he sat with folded SITE OF THE COLONIAL CAPITOL AT WILLIAMSBURG, VA., where Washington learned his first lessons in statesman- ship ; and where the sons of Virginia, in the years that fol- lowed, gave voice to the cause of a new freedom. 152 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE hands and head bowed in thought. His attitude toward the mother country had always been one of affectionate regard. By ancestry he was an Englishman, and he naturally shrank from the idea of a course which should be openly hostile to the motherland in whose service he had valiantly distin- guished himself. Yet when the time came for a definite deci- sion, a little later on, he hesitated not. Regardless of the fact that position, property and even life were at stake, he cast his lot with those who championed liberty. I heard Theo- dore Roosevelt, — making one of his characteristic pleas for out-and-out Americanism, just a few months before his death, cite the attitude of Washington as an example for all to follow. Excoriating unmercifully the hyphenated Ameri- can, T. R. laid emphasis upon the fact that no 'finer sensi- bilities' deterred the 'father of his country' from open allegiance to the cause he knew to be right. The quaint and imposing 'Speaker's Chair' which was used at the Williamsburg capitol for many years, is now a venerated relic in the present State House at Richmond. It was made in 1700, when King William ruled the then peaceful and satisfied colonies, and is a most interesting specimen of 'period furniture'. Within its capacious depths have sat dozens of Virginia's eminent statesinen, and upon its carved pediment, — with radiant sun-burst, strikingly emblematic of the glory of the free America that was to be — the deep set eyes of Washington must often have rested as he listened patiently to the drawn-out debates of his learned conferees in the ante-bellum days, wishing rather for the activity of his plantation and the industrious clanking of the mill-wheel by the creek, which — while noisy — was produc- tive of results. Too often argument is a useless waste of time, and speech-making is to no purpose; particularly so in times of peace and prosperity when men talk merely for talk's sake. It is in periods of stress that oratory is born, and usually the lasting impressions are made by words few but forceful. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 153 Washington never claimed the gift of eloquence and in- frequently addressed the Assembly. When he did speak, up- on rare occasions, he was heard with respect, for his presence somehow carried weight and inspired confidence. Patrick Henry himself, referring to the first Continental Congress which assembled in Philadelphia a little later, designated Mr. Rut- ledge of South Carolina as the foremost among American orators, but added that "if you speak of solid information and sound judg- ment, Colonel Washington is un- questionably the greatest man on the floor." The ancient high-backed chair of the president of the Assembly seems indeed like a relic of an age long past; the old colonial capitol is no more ; and the heroic voices of Virginia's Revolutionary sons have given place to the warble of the robin and the nightingale, and the eternal harmony of Nature. Yet no melancholy thoughts need mar the pleasure of him who stands beside the monument at Williamsburg, for what greater memorial could the patriots have desired than a place in history and a treasured remembrance in the hearts of their countrymen? Their words have gone echoing down the aisles of time, gathering volume with the passing years, — keeping pace as it were with the progress of events, — and seemingly applicable to every present crisis. It is certain that, up to the fall of 1774, Washington decried the necessity of an open break with England, but — on the last occasion when the Virginia Assembly met he acquiesced in the resolutions which resulted in the conven- ing of the First Continental Congress. Governor Dunmore THE SPEAKER'S CHAIR formerly used in the Virginia House of Burgesses at Williamsburg 154 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE CARPP:NTEKS' HAI.L. Philadelphia: where the First Continental Congress assembled, in 1774 had burned Norfolk, and the Virginia delegates to the con- vocation were instructed to demand a declaration of inde- pendence. In Williamsburg the British flag was hauled down to give way to a banner of thirteen stripes, and almost before he knew it Washington found himself a rebel! Old Carpenters' Hall, in Philadelphia, witnessed a nota- ble gathering; when, on the 5th of September, the fifty-five representatives, chosen spokesmen of the several colonies, came together for the first time. Again it was Patrick Henry of Virginia who sounded the key-note of the Con- IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 155 vention. "The distinctions between Virginians, Pennsyl- vanians, New Yorkers and New^ Englanders are no more," said he. "I am not a Virginian, but an American!" And so George Washington, another of the Virginians, found that he was something juore than a rebel; he, too, was an Amer- ican J At Philadelphia, being thrown into intimate relation- ship with this assemblage of the greatest men upon the continent in point of abilities, virtues and fortunes, Wash- ington had full opportunity for ascertaining at first hand the various phases of a situation which had now become a national problem. Massachusetts, he well knew, had been one of the first provinces to 'take the bit in her teeth' and uncompromisingly balk at the mandates of England, so — fully to satisfy his own mind — he personally interviewed the New England delegates. After convincing himself of their sincerity and the 'rectitude of their intentions', he seems to have committed himself unreservedly to the new cause, satisfied that his fellow representatives were actuated by none but the noblest of motives and were fully war- ranted in their defiance of that kingly authority which he had been taught to venerate. Yet even as late as the 9th of October we find him writing: "I am well satisfied that no such thing [independence] is desired by any thinking man in North America," and, "it is the ardent wish of the warmest advocates of liberty that peace and tranquillity up- on constitutional cpxrunds may be restored." The assembly-room in Carpenters' Hall remains in much the same condition as of yore, — a large, bare cham- ber — whose walls are hung with precious pictures and nota- ble documents. The speaker's desk occupies the same posi- tion it held in 1774, and some of the original Windsor chairs stand behind a protecting railing. The s(v-called 'Colonial type' of architecture was but an adaptation of the classic Greco-Roman; and the dignified simplicity of the fagades and interiors of the Revolutionary period seem to have been 156 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE REMBRANDT PEALES MIXIATUKE OF WASHINUTON, (attcr Gil1)ert Stu;ut) This rare and unpublished portrait is now in the possession of Mr. Erskine Hewitt, of Ringwood Manor, N. J., and New York City, through whose courtesy it is presented. Tliis interesting picture formerly belonged to Lafayette, and was presented by hiui to one of his American friends. Tlie original is framed in rtd, white and blue plush, just as it came to this country from the chateau of the beloved French marquis. thoroughly in keeping with the sturdy spirit of the times. The stately apartments — like this at Carpenters' Hall — wherein were voiced the deliberations of America's true aristocracy, were as worthy the honor as was the marble rostra of the Roman Senate House to echo the words of Cicero. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 157 Carpenters' Hall, which is the true 'cradle of liberty', stands near the foot of Chestnut Street, between Third and Fourth, wedged in among tall modern structures, and front- ing a narrow alley. It occupies a tiny quadrangle which seems almost a place apart from the turmoil of the city; a quiet nook where one may 'hear himself think'; similar in many ways to those delightful rest spots off London's busy Strand, — the sacred precincts of St. Bride's, and the hal- lowed enclosure of the Temple, where Goldsmith lies in un- disturbed repose. True, Carpenters' Hall has experienced its vicissitudes. Watson, the famous 'annalist' of Philadel- phia, tells us that in 1829 the upper rooms cf Carpenters' Hall were occupied by the students of a private academy, wdiile the famous assembly room was devoted to the use of an auctioneer, being "lumbered up with beds, looking- glasses, chairs, tables, pictures, ready made clothes, and all the trash and trumpery which usually grace the premises of a knight of the hammer." Thus was this dignified cham- ber once desecrated; the contents of many attics humbled in confusion and airing their disconsolate misery in the "sublime apartment which first resounded with the indig- nant murmer of our immortal ancestors." All through the years, however, the building has re- mained the property of the Carpenters' Company; here they assembled before the Revolution and by them the hall is still regarded as official headquarters. Surprising as it may seem, this association — founded for mutual betterment, proficiency and benevolence — was nothing more or less than an early type of the now sadly degenerated labor union. Nothing is more to be commended than a body of artisans combining for their own advancement, but I fear that some of the modern leaders of 'organized labor' have fallen from their high estate. Would that those rabid agitators, demagogues of Bolshevism — who lead their greed-blinded followers into the mire of 'slacking' and sabotage — might stand before the hall of the Carpenters and learn a lesson 158 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE in Americanism! Never can the loud-mouthed sluggard rank with the honest toiler. Those who endeavor to under- mine the foundations of well-earned 'capital' make a griev- ous mistake. The righteous principle we call American lib- erty had its beginnings in Carpenters' Hall; the much- envied capitalist, who makes 'big business' possible, got his start — nine times out of ten — by hard work and thrift. There is no royal road to riches. The man who would be king in the business world can do no better thing than to emulate the frugality, honesty and loyalty of the patriots of Revolutionary days. If the hours wasted in complaining were devoted to industry, the dissatisfied worker might lay the foundations of a competency and join the ranks of those who employ the labor of others. But to proceed with our story. While the 'First Congress' was yet in session, came news of serious clashes between General Gage and the peo- ple of Boston, and before the next gathering of the Colonial delegates on the 10th of May, 1775, the tidings of Lexing- ton and Concord had spread throughout the provinces. So" it was that the members, as they assembled for the second trnie in the "City of Brotherly Love," realized to a man that there could now be no turning back, but — doubly firm in their convictions that "rebellion against tyrants was obed- ience to God," — they resolved to face the issue unflinch- ingly. In reviewing the events incident to this Second Con- gress, it is to the world-famous Independence Hall on Chest- nut Street that we must transfer our attention. In the east room on the first floor began a session destined to last, with but a few short interruptions, until December 12th, 1776; — to be exact, for 582 days, — during which time the Conven- tion of Delegates transformed itself by the Declaration of Independence into a genuine Continental Congress, repre- senting a free people, — a "new nation, conceived in lib- erty." IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 159 INDEPENDENCE HALL, PHILADELPHIA We are told that Washington was in Virginia — dining with his old friend Lord Fairfax at Greenway Court — when tidings came to him of the affair at Lexington. For these two staunch friends it meant a final parting of the ways. What his lordship said has never been recorded. Washing- ton sadly took his leave. They never met again. Without delay Washington repaired to Philadelphia, riding north from Mount Vernon with Patrick Henry and Edmund Pendleton. They found that there was still some disposition on the part of the Convention to hope that the King might yet be brought to his senses through an ener- getic armed resistance, toward which end every effort was being put forth. Boston was already closely invested by General Artemus Ward and the troops of Massachusetts, but Congress had adopted the war as begun in New Eng- 160 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE land as a national responsibility; the soldiers there under arms had become the duly accredited military force of the confederation, with the question of the supreme command alone to be decided. Washington's appointment came solely because of his undoubted fitness. By general consent, so it seemed, he had been chosen chairman of the joint committees having charge of military affairs; as such occupying the position of greatest responsibility in the matter of organization, regulations and preparation for defence. It should be remembered that the personnel of the first and second Congresses was of the highest type, the men who represented their fellow patriots in these conventions being the flower of the American statesmen of the day. There was, therefore, no dearth of available material for a Commander-in-Chief. Hancock, the presiding officer, would not have been averse to trying his own hand at the job, while others among the New Eng- landers were equally deserving of recognition. The dele- gates from Virginia made no efforts to advance Washington as their candidate, while he himself — although being the only member of the Assembly habitually to appear in uni- form — was in no sense a party to his own selection. So diffident was he that when Johnson, delegate from Mary- land, placed his name in nomination, he hastily withdrew from the conference chamber. This was on the 15th of June, and his election followed without one dissenting vote. Upon being informed of this unanimous expression of confi- dence, Washington made no attempt to conceal his mingled emotions. Frankly avowing that no ulterior motives nor thoughts of personal aggrandisement prompted his accept- ance, he called "every gentleman in the room" to witness that he considered himself unequal to the task, and refused all compensation for the service he was about to begin, save a reimbursement for the actual expenses he nmst necessarily incur. Truly may it be said that the Virginia farmer — "the IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 161 assume a long him in of the transplanted English country squire" — prepared to his new duties with reluctance. The thoughts of separation from all he held most dear oppressed measure equal to the realization of the magnitude undertaking just ahead. Notwith- standing all this, but two brief days elapsed be- tween the re- ceipt of his com- mission and his departure f o r New England ; the celerity with which Washing- ton put his pri- vate affairs i n order being proof sufficient that in this crisis, as in times past, he had been prepared in advance of the emergency. Not unlikely, he had mapped out his course weeks beforehand. This may seem to be at variance with his self-depreciatory attitude be- fore Congress, but it is characteristic of life. We half fear, half hope, sometimes, — doubting ourselves, maybe, — yet not unconscious of the powers which lie within us, and mindful of our weight of influence. So it was with Washington, who knew in the depths of his heart that he had honestly won the confidence of his countrymen, and — knowing this — liad prepared for eventualities. At this juncture in his career there is again granted us a delightful glimpse of his personal nature. How genuinely human and humble is his communication to his brother, John Augustine, — to whom he once more entrusts the man- agement of his estates — in which he expresses the hope that ''my friends will visit and endeavor to keep up the Home of FRANCIS HOPKINSOX. uiic of New Jersey's five 'signers' of the Declaration of Independence, still standing at BORDEXTOWN, N. J., through which village Washington passed when on his way to take command of the army in New England. 162 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE spirits of my wife as much as they can, for my departure will. I know, be a cutting stroke " Again, in a farewell note to Mistress Martha, he says with unaffected simplici- ty. "I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad if my stay were to be seven times seven years. I shall feel no pain from the toil or danger of the campaign; my unhappiness will flow from the uneasiness I know you will feel from being left alone " THE DKI.AWARK KIVKH AT HL'KLINGTON, N. J. To the left is seen the Pennsylvania i-hore. Near the aged tree in the right foreground stood Governor Frank'.in"s "executive mansion' in colonial times. The steamer plys between Burlington, X. J., Bristol, Pa., and other river ports. The passage of Washington across New Jersey, New York and Connecticut afforded an opportunity for many of the patriots in these provinces to view the person of their champion. All accounts agree that he made a profound im- pression as he passed through the principal towns along the way. accompanied by Generals Schuyler and Lee, and at- tended by a brilliant cavalcade of officers. The newly chosen commander was now in the prime of his manhood and every inch a soldier; austere enough to inspire respect, and conforming perfectly to all the traditions which demand IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 163 that a leader of men must be able to command their ad- miration. New Jersey greeted Washington with enthusiasm, as— shortly after leaving Philadelphia— he passed over the Del- aware and proceeded northward through Bordentown and Burlington. Unlike the colonies of Virginia and Massa- chusetts, New Jersey had suffered less from external oppres- sive influences than from bitter partisan strife within her GOVERNOR MILLIAM FRAXKLIN OF XEW JERSEY See biographical note pages 164-5) own borders and between citizens of' divergent sympathies. This state of ferment had been brought about, in large measure, by the misrule of William Franklin, the royalist governor, only son of the learned patriot and philosopher whom America will never cease to honor. Burlington, as the provincial capital of New Jersey, had been the residence of Governor Franklin before his forced retirement, and here, on the famous 'green bank' fronting the broad Delaware, we may still see his residence — now considerably modern- ized — and one of the veteran sycamores which he planted by the water's edge. After the ousting of Franklin, the center of Jersey's activities shifted across the state to Elizabethtown, where 164 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE ^W^^ ^ Hpapsi 1 "^ '^RhES resided the iiew executive, Governor Livingston, — a man quite differently disposed — who soon came to be regarded by Washington as a bulwark of patriotism, strong, sturdy and ever-ready. They first met upon this fateful journey of the Commander-in-Chief to the 'Bay State' in 1775. when Washington tarried at Elizabethtown for a few hours before embarking for the city OLD HOUSE, PEARL STREET, BURLINGTON, N. J. — This humble dwelling is a relic of Revolu- tionary times. It ha.s not only witnessed the pass- ing of Washington, out — being near the water- front — was a spectator of the British attack in 1777 Concerning Washington's line of march as he journeyed to Boston, one might say that it was "a continuous ovation", yet his reception was one of mingled curiosity and enthu- siasm rather than profound confidence. Regarded in 1776 merely as a brilliant hope, it remained for him to prove his sterling worth, and to earn — through seven years of stead- fast adherence to an unshaken purpose— the universal esteem which was to be his ultimate reward. In order to gain a proper understanding of the situation in and around Boston in the summer of 1775, we shall do of New York. The life of WILLIAM FRANK- LIN, the ro,\a;i.st executive of the colony of New Jersey just prior to the outbreak of the Revolution, of- fers a singular and profitable char- acter study. William Nelson, in his 'History of the New .Jersey Coast' says that it is much easier to deter- mine his negairve points than the qualities which would entitle him to recognition. Unlike his dis- tinguivhed father. Bcniamin Frank- lin^ whom (with Lincoln and Roose- velt) we may reckon as being one of the most typical of Americans, Gov- ernor Franklin was tried and found wanting in the great crisis. He had received a liberal education, had come into touch with the leading men of Great Britain when, as his father's secretary, he had traveled abroad, and, in 1763, was honored with the royal appointment as gov- ernor of .Jersey, possibly to influence the attitude of Franklin the e'.der in the impending controversy over the matter of taxation, of which the British ministry, at this early date, already discerned unmistakable signsv. Unforcunate consequences followed this ill-advised selection. The stress of circumstances de- veloped William Franklin into a rabid Tory, and caused an estrange- ment between father and son which was never wholly healed. The gov- ernor, failing to estimate the strength of the undercurrent of popular opinion, early came to be regarded with suspicion, his at- tempts to maintain the supremacy of the crown by 'gag methods' and the proroguing of the state assembly created open hostility, and he was IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 165 removed from office by the patriots when the storm broke. Taken to Connecticut for safe-keeping, he was later permitted to sail across the seas to England, where he continued to reside. It is a matter of quite general knowledge, however, that he was present when the treaty of peace between the successful colo- nies and the mother-country was signed in 1782. well to indulge in a brief re- sume of the happenings in New England immediately preceding the arrival of Wash- mgton. By so doing, our cata- logue cf reminiscences will be enriched by one of the most delightful jaunts imaginable — an expedition leading through old 'Boston Town' and the incidental trip to Lexington and Concord. I suppose that every visitor to Boston in these days — except it be the traveling salesman — comes well stocked with a fund of information and a hat-full of great expecta- tions. He knows all about the Old State House, the Monu- ment and Faneuil Hall; he has formed a vivid mental pic- ture of the famous 'Common' and the old North Church ; and — besides the purpose of realizing history — he has pre- pared himself for a literary feast among the book-shops of 'the Hub', or an artistic seance at the Public Library, where the murals of Abbey and Sargent will completely captivate his heart. And surely in Boston, the "Athens of America," — whose literary character is vitalized by a liberal inter- mingling of Spartan blood- — every pilgrim will find that for which he came a-seeking — and much more. In many respects the old red-brick State House on Washington Street, in the ancient and hopelessly congested quarter of the town, is the most historic building in Boston. It was built in 1713 and as the Province Court House it figured conspicuously in the days prior to and immediately preceding the Revolution. From the little balcony over- looking State Street, the Declaration of Independence was read to the people of the city after the British had been expelled, and within these old walls John Hancock was in- augurated first governor of the Commonwealth of Massa- chusetts. The site of the 'Boston Massacre' of March 5th, 1770, is not far distant, being indicated by the peculiar 166 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE round paving near the intersection of State Street and Exchange. The wharves of Boston and the streets adjourning, — with the offices of shippers, importers and dealers in mari- time suppHes — are very interesting. India Street and Fleet Street smack of foreign shores; the famous Long W h a r f , ( beneath v.hich now runs the tunnel to East Bos- ton ) was once-upon- a-time the . landing place of all the nota- ble servants of the Crown who came from over-seas to the colony f Massa- chusetts Bay; while it was at the now V a n i s h e d Grif- fin's Wharf that the obnoxious cargo of taxable tea was spilled. The precise spot where the 'Tea Party' incident took place is now far in- STATE HOUSE, BOSTON. MASS. ^^^^ ^ ^ ^^^Ict at the Insert, statue of Sanmel Adams, in Adams Square COHlCr f AtlautlC Avenue and Pearl Street telling the humorous story of the event. In the course of the city's development, the water Ime has been pushed far out into the bay and the Fort Point Channel ; so that, strange as it may seem, the actual spot where the aromatic cargo was thrown into the water is now solid ground. Adams Square is the heart of Boston; here stands what is perhaps the most expressive monument to any of IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 167 GRIFFINS WHARF AT WHICH KVPIIIOUD 0" Dtt ll.l77J,IH«t[ BRITISH SHIPS WITH CASEOCS Of Tt». TO OtrCAT Kins ttORCfS TRIVIAL BUT TTRAHMICAl. TAX OF TIHH fCHCt A POUHO, ABOUT HoitTY cmztiis or bostoh.parilv disguised as INDIANS, boabdeo tw ships, THMW THE MSOOtS.IHRIt HUNOdlXI AHO FORTY TWO CHESTS IN AILINTO THE SEA AHO nut THE WOllll) KINO WITH THE PATRIOTIC tIPlOIT OF THE BOSTON TEA PARTY #"1101 nc'EitwAS nmoiEo sucn a omuchi V mPAUCE.HAlL.ORARIOR. AS rREEHENBUWED AND TYRANTS QUAFFED THAT niGHT IN BOSTON HAIBW " THK -TKA TABLET' — BOSTi the New England patriots, — Miss Whitney's statue of Samuel Adams, represented in the plain dress of a citizen, with folded arms and face finely indicative of determined purpose, much as he must have looked when — confronting Governor Hutchinson after the massacre of 1770, — he de- manded the instant re- moval of the royal troops. Nearby is Faneuil Hall, where ineffectual protests shaped them- selves into deeds. Still fulfilling the original intent of Peter Faneuil, its donor, the first floor and basement of this rather singular structure serve the purposes of a public market, surrounded on all sides by a community of produce and commission merchants. By day. amid these purely utilitarian environs, — swarming with carts and drays, bar- gaining housewives and scurrying urchins — much of the noble significance of Faneuil Hall is lost. Vociferating hucksters and crates of green-goods are out of harmony with fire-breathing oratory and Puritan patriotism. You will be well favored by fortune, if — by chance — she plays a trick upon you like that which made memorable one of my own 'first impressions' of Boston some years ago. Late in the evening I was prowling around the lower section of the town, after the fashion set by Baghdad's famous Caliph, trying to lose myself in the labyrinth of old lanes for which this portion of the city is noted. Thus it was that I came, quite unexpectedly, face-to-face with the seemingly spectral apparition of Faneuil Hall in its most favorable mood and familiar likeness. Abrupt as was the introduc- tion, the sturdy old ghost seemed so honest and friendly that I felt inclined to extend my hand in greeting. 168 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE Faneuil Hall, in its present form, is an expansion of the original edifice of 1742. In 1805 it was raised one fcitory and doubled in width, but to all intents and purposes its walls are the same that rang with the eloquence of B o s t o n's earnest champions of liber- ty; as such a Tem- ple of Freedom, we may well regard it with veneration. Seen in the silver radiance of a quiet moonlit night (and this part of the town, — like lower New York City — is very still after busi- ness hours ) Faneuil Hall comes up to and beyond expec- tations. Within this hall, gaily illuminated, a joyful throng gathered in 1766 to celebrate the repeal of the Stamp Act; here in 1774, General Gage, the new governor, was received with some degree of hope; during the blockade of Boston the British staged amateur theatricals upon its inspired platform; and amid the great excitement of anti-slavery days eighty years later, men like Chas. Sumner and Wm. Lloyd Garrison have here stirred their audiences to depths of emotion. Little won- der then, if — on occasion — some of the spirits of the illustri- ous departed meet together here in phantom reunion. In troublous times like those of the present, it may be that the shades of good old Adams and Hancock and Otis discuss in strict confidence the 'railroad tie-up' or the 'high cost of FANEUIL HALL— BOSTON Famous for its wealth of historic associations. In the upper floor the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Company of Boston, formed in 1637, and the oldest military organization in America, still maintain their armory. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 169 .\v\. i;i':Yf:]!E iiiul the little house he called home living', heartily pitying us mortals of the present clay who know not when to be satisfied. Many of us have regarded Paul Revere as more or less of a mythological character; a sort of 'John Gilpin' in American history. Contrary to this notion, the visitor to New England will soon become convinced that this worthy Bostonian was a very real personage, and that he truly and worthily performed the exploits for which he has been given credit. At numbers 19—21 North Square, we may still see his humble cottage, carefully preserved and fittingly in- scribed. It is said to be the oldest building in the city, and was erected about 1676, on the site of the par- sonage of Dr. Increase Mather, that begowned bigot of the 17th century, who possessed much 'religion' b u t precious little Christian chari- ty. Christ Episco- pal Church, in Salem Street, is claimed by some to be the 'Old North', from the belfry of which the signal lanterns were displayed — as described in Longfellow's poem — warning the waiting horseman and a few trusted citizens of Charlestown that the 'red-coats' were up to mischief. More probably, the now vanished church which stood on North Square — and which was the only 'North Church' in 1775, deserved this distinction. As to Revere's famous ride, the accepted narrative is strictly true with this exception: he never reached Concord, being intercepted beyond Lex- ington and held prisoner by the British for some hours. But he had had ample time to warn the inhabitants of the inter- vening hamlets, and by his lusty voice to rouse brethren 170 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE Hancock and Adams, who were soundly sleeping at the Clark House in Lexington. Undoubtedly it was Paul Re- vere's foresight that insured for the invaders the warm re- ception which greeted them on the morrow. I am not altogether facetious in my use of the term "brethren" as applied to the worthy John Hancock and Samuel Adams. Both they, Paul Revere, and a surprising- number of our notable Revolutionary heroes were members of the Masonic Fraternity, and undoubtedly the lofty prin- ciples of that organization fitted well with their own sterling characters and the high cause for which they fought. There are few, if any, existing souvenirs of Washing- ton himself in the great modern city of Boston. Boston was a British stronghold and a refuge for those of royalist leanings from the opening of hostilities until the evacuation, and Washington figures chiefly in the role cf besieger, oper- ating from without. This being the case, we may not per- mit ourselves to tarry longer in the city, however strong may be the inclination, but must repair to its now populous su- burbs. W^e cannot do better than to follow the "clattering hoof-beats" of Revere, out over the Charles and the Mystic, to Lexington — the scene of the first break between Mother England and her unruly offspring. The triangular village green of Lexington remains to- day in about the same condition as it was when, in the small hours of that famous April morning, the militia began to assemble at this rendezvous from every little hamlet of the adjacent countryside in answer to the message of the mid- night rider. Still 'ranged around it are half a dozen of the houses that witnessed the two phases cf the initial struggle of the Revolution; first, the incident of Major Pitcairn's men firing upon the rebels who declined to disperse upon request; second, the fighting retreat of the British as they were returning from Concord — made miserable by the 'dogging' of the minute-men. Lexington is directly upon the road to Concord, the IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 171 objective of the British in their decidedly hostile attempt to appropriate or destroy the munitions of war which the Americans had there collected. The existing monuments on Lexington Common tell interestingly the two-part tale of how the patriot farmers 'got a whack at the enemy' both coming and going, for the green of to-day was the battle- ground of 1775. Here you will see the famous boulder mark- ing the spot where Captain Parker ex- horted the provincials to stand their ground, now suitably carved with rep- resentation of flint-lock and powder- horn. The bronze statue of the 'Min- ute-man' with the drinking fountain behind it, which now adorns the east- ern end of the Lexington green, occu- pies the site o f the Revolutionary Meeting House; while the now van- ished place of worship is commemo- rated by a stone pulpit where- on lies a closed volume — pre- sumably representing the 'Good Book', — although why it should be closed I cannot conjecture, for surely we of the present generation are in no whit more Godly than the old-time worshippers of the New England village. On the Bedford road we see the antiquated battle monument built in 1835, now somewhat the worse for wear, but adorned by a kindly man- tle of English ivy. Beneath it lie the honored remains of the victims of the encounter. CHRIST CHURCH, SALEM STREET, — BOSTON — From the belfry of which General Gage witnessed the Battle of Bunker Hill, and which is claimed by .some to be the place where Revere'.s lan- terns were hung. 172 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE THE LEXINGTON MINUTEMAN brought hither from their original place of interment in the village cemetery. The graveyard itself is just off the green; here you will see carved upon the stones the familiar names of almost every old family in the village. The popular ma- terial for 'down East' tombstones in the olden days was a blue, slate-like stone of fine texture, and many of these slabs have weathered the storms of two centuries with few visible signs of decay — except their tendency to lean forward, back- ward or sideways, like Revolutionary sentries tired with a long vigil. The best known house in Lexington is the beautiful colonial Harrington homestead, to the threshold of which its master, wounded in the battle on the green, dragged him- self with the strength of desperation, only to die a moment later in the arms of his wife, who had been a witness of the combat. He was one of the eight Americans killed on this occasion and he lies, with his fellow martyrs, beneath the monument across the park. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 17? The other famous building is a very plain little cottage painted brown, a short distance up the Concord road. It is the Clark-Hancock House where, as before mentioned, Adams and Hancock were awakened in time to permit them to decamp before the arrival of the enemy. This is where the 'Sight-seeing Autos' from Boston make a pro- longed stop, and disgorge their crowds of curious humanity, who tramp through the house with great gusto, following a guide, who — w^ith raucous voice — expatiates upon the his- tory of the town, adding fiction to fact at his own discre- tion. Most of the boys of Lexington have become contam- inated with the money-mad ambition to follow the exam- ple of these older knights of the megaphone. No private conveyance can pass through the village without being held up by these mercenary urchins. Partial as I am to the society of boys, I confess hearty disgust with my own selection. Despite my suggestion that he tell me all he knew of the historic landmarks in a straight forward, conver- sational way; the little rascal persisted in rat- tling off a sing-song and uninterested formula be- fore every house and marker, exactly as a soul- less parrot prattles about crackers and good looks. I therefore paid hun to desist, and went on my way the happier for his absence. From Lexington a trolley-line runs out to Concord- fol- lowing the road so eminently historic. The latter town has '^ wider interest than Lexington because of its added literan. THK HANCOCK CLAKK HOUSE. LEXINGTON 174 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE THE OLD MANSE' ADJOINING THE CONCORD BRIDGE Ralph Waldo Emerson was a son of the Revolutionary divine who lived here at the time of the battle. His 'Centenary Ode' and the descriptions of Nathaniel Hawthorne, another distinguished tenant, are New England classics. iissociations. So many noteworthy men and women of letters have either lived or worked at Concord that an en- tire section of the Public Library in this highly favored community is devoted to the works of Concord authors! Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne and the Aicotts have all labored at Concord and left their stamp of culture in the beautiful country village. First and foremost among the attractions of Concord is the world-famous bridge over the headwaters of the Con- cord River. If you have read those portions of Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Mosses from an Old Manse" which refer to the Concord Fight, any impressions of mine will seem but unworthy repetitions. The old parsonage where the Rever- end William Emerson lived at the time of the battle, and whose musty walls served to inspire Hawthorne's facile peii two or three generations later, has become inseparably linked with the story of the rude rustic bridge and its pa- triot defenders. The old grey manse remains exactly as he has described it, — decidedly weather-worn, somewhat som- bre, and showing unmistakable signs of neglect; while be- yond the area of its shadowing trees and clinging vines, the sunlit meadow behind the house slopes gently down to the reed-bordered river. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 175 You will pass by the open gateway of the 'old manse' as you walk out from Concord village along Monument Street, turning — after a few more steps — into the short avenue, bordered on each side by a double row of fine old trees, which leads to the celebrated North Bridge. No- where else in America does an historic site come so fully up to expectations. Far overhead the tree-tops meet, form- ing an arcade of verdure, through which darkened perspective w e behold — gleam- ing in the bril- liant light of the mid-day sun — the narrow bridge and its monuments, one on either side the stream. The eld obelisk marking the British position, set in a patch of green at the near '^^^ ^'^^^^ ceSient bridge at concord end of the bridge, is somewhat shaded by the trees, but the 'Minute-man' across the creek stands out boldly in the sun- shine, recalling the fact that at the hour of noon, on that eventful April day, the four hundred and fifty Americans here opposed the passage of the enemy. The present bridge is a replica, in permanent concrete, of the old structure of former days, and the path across it ends abruptly in a little flower-bordered plot around the Minute-man, as though to inform you that your quest had terminated. Indeed, once you have arrived here, any wan- dering farther afield is unnecessary, for this is the fountain- 176 * IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE head of all the epic poetry and proverbial patriotism that America supplies. The early morning encounter at Lexing- ton had been rather one-sided, but here a decisive action was fought which turned Major Pitcairn and his regiments back toward Boston. "They shall not pass" was the de- termination of Colonel Barrett and everyone of his men, who — true to their trust, like Horatius of old — had kept the bridge. Of this spirit, the familiar statue of the 'Concord Minute-man' is indicative. It is difficult to state just how numerous were the casualties in the Battle of Concord, as the British brought off most of their seriously wounded. At least two of King George's men were buried near the spot where they fell and a tablet in the rough stone wall separating the 'Old Manse' farm from the road marks the place of their interment. The fitting words of Emerson's 'Centenary Ode' were inspired, of course, by an intimate knowledge of a locality within ear- shot of his study window, and these are they "who came three thousand miles and died — to keep the past upon it s throne." "The rude bridge that arched the flood" was for him a daily reminder of times past, and the echo of "the shot heard round the world" was about the only discordant note to make sweeter by contrast the harmony of his finely attuned and philosophical mind. Concord possesses so many places of varied interest that a hurried visit is simply tantalizing. In the very heart of a purely intellectual community where old tree-stumps and historic gravestones are preserved with reverential care, where every other building has an historic or literary in- terest, a week might well be spent with pleasure and profit. In the village proper is the old Wright Tavern, which was the meeting place of the patriots before the battle, and where, a few hours later, Major Pitcairn of His Majesty's Marines indulged in a liberal dram of grog to warm his vitals for the unpleasant business of the day. Almost op- posite is the Parish Church, and behind it the Sleepy Hoi- IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 177 low Cemetery with the much visited graves of Emerson and Hawthorne. Thoreau's haunt, the famous Walden Pond, is not far distant ; here the Pantheist may roam among the glades so often trodden by that strange lover of the wild- wood; while the disciple of Unitarianism — that branch of theology which seems to reconcile hard-headed reasoning with our heart longings — will find in and around Concord a multitude of those like-minded, and may visit the shrines where the independent thinkers of New England evolved the widely criticised 'Concord Philosophy' a half century and more ago. After the repulse at Concord Bridge, the retreat of the British toward Boston gradually assumed the proportions of a disastrous rout. Their pursuers, ever increasing in numbers, lost no opportunity for retaliation. Running the gauntlet of unmer- ciful torment at Medford, Lexing- ton, Billerica and all the way into the city, the raid- ers finally reached their haven of safety in a state of distress and ex- haustion which would have been pitiable under other circumstances. So well had they learned their lesson, that a similar expedition was never again undertaken. Following closely upon the encounters at Lexington and Concord had occurred the battle of Bunker Hill. Like a swarm of disturbed hornets, the patriots had gathered upon the hills outside Boston, where they immediately began to throw up earthworks. General William Howe, who had several good British regiments in the city, was not at all THE WRIGHT TAVERN, CONCORD, BUILT IN 1747. 178 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE GRAVE OF THE BRITISH SOLDIERS, NEAR CONCORD BRIDGE. Stable and grounds of the Old Manse' in the background. pleased with the proximity of such a numerous and hostile array ahnost within musket shot of his fleet anchored in the Charles; and when, on June 16th, Colonel Prescott with twelve hundred men had the audacity to fortify Bunker Hill and Breed's Hill — almost under his nose — he deter- mined to drive the Americans out of their positions. The modern 'Bunker Hill Monument' is located on Breed's Hill in the heart of Charlestown, commemorating the defeat which was practically a victory. On the spot where the Americans twice repulsed the attacking columns and where they would have maintained their ground in- definitely had their powder held out, the great stone obelisk^ 221 feet in height, rises above the city and overlooks a wide panorama of the country round about. This granite shaft was completed in 1842 after seventeen yeprs of building. Its corner-stone was laid by Lafayette in 1825, and Daniel Webster was the orator of the day on both that occasion and its final dedication. Carefully read , the story of the battle of Bunker Hill, leaves two impressions ; the first as to the general character of the combatants and the objects for which they fought; the second as to the individual deeds of heroism on the part of the respective leaders. Did it ever occur to you that the patriots had no flag IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 179 that day? —that 'they were an outlawed band of men ivith- out a country, fighting that they might have one? On the other hand, the troops opposed to them were the best in the world; with all the prestige back of them that able officers and the ensign of mighty England could give. Gage was the nominal c o m - mander in Bos- ton, hut he con- tented himself v/ith the role of 'mihtary observ- er', while Gener- al Howe led his troops in person — t h r e e times facing death in their midst, — his silk stockings be- draggled with the blood of his own brave grenadiers, which liafl reddened the tall grass where they fell. Dr. Joseph Warren stands out as the patriot martyr of the day. Although a general officer by appointment of the Provincial Assembly, he placed himself as a private under the orders of Col. Prescott, as did old General Pomeroy v/ith his seventy years of experience. Warren was but thirty-five. Thus we find youth and age, wealth and pover- ty, rank and yeomanry, intermingling and fighting side by side behind the American breastworks, with all thoughts of precedence subservient to the common cause. Stark and Putnam were there too, with Knowlton and Reed, all of v.hom were destined to come through the first fiery trial m keeping for future deeds of valor. But Warren's first battle COPPS HILL BURYING GROUND. BOSTON. Tomb on the right is that of the 'Rfverend Mathers'. Here were mounted in 177.5 the British batteries which fired Charle.s- town during the Battle of Bunker Hill, and opposite, there stood untd reeeiitly the Galloupe House, occupied by General Gage during the early part of the siege. 180 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE was his last, and to-day — in the memorial building at the foot of the great monument — a statue keeps green the memory of the patriot-physician and a stone in the ground nearby marks the spot where he fell. Prescott himself is kept in remembrance by a bronze figure, garbed in the unconventional attire he wore dur- ing the battle, — the comfortable sombrero of a farmer and long seersucker coat of a rustic. The repres- sive gesture of the left hand calls to mind his orders to the ri- flemen to hold their fire until the enemy were almost upon them. Although driven from his position because re- inforcements and powder failed, Prescott implored General Ward upon the fol- lowing day to provide him with sufficient troops to retake the hill. But old Artemas was rather more conservative and decided that the proposition was too risky. Warren was buried on the field of battle, but in the following year his remains were removed to Boston, where they now^ repose in Forest Hills Cemetery. A climb up two-hundred and ninety-five tiresome steps will bring the visitor to the observatory near the top of the monument. Below lies Charlestown, Boston, the Bay stretching seaward, and the historic rivers. Comparison of one of the old-time maps with the present lay-out of the The Buiikt'i- Hill Monument at Charlestown — Boston, Mast<. DR. .JOSEPH WARREX, hero of Bunker Hill. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 181 city might cause some degree of wonder to the uninitiated, for the reason that many of the hills in and about Boston have been levelled and the present Back Bay section of the city itself is built mostly upon ground reclaimed from the marshland of early days. Modern buildings also have a tendency to pull down the apparent height of elevations which were in former times considered strategic, and to the visitor of the present day Dorchester Heights and Winter Hill, — which the patriots soon occupied as they threw a cordon of besieging works around beleaguered Boston— seem comparatively insig- nificant. T o Cambridge, just eight miles out- side of Boston — with the River Charles b e t w e e n — c a m e Washington on the 2nd of July, 1775, here to assume the chief command o f the army and to set- tle down to the form- ing of plans for the expulsion of the British.* Cambridge pos- sesses a great wealth of material for the student of our Revo- lutionary history, vv'hich is appreciated fully as much by her own cultured citizens as by the transient visitor. Like most other old New England towns, Cam- Old Milestone, First Parish Churchyard, Cambridge. One of tlie rffnny set up by Benjamin Franklin iilong the roads leading to Boston, while Deputy Postmaster General of fclie British Colonies and be- fore. Their particular purpose was to enable his Majfj-ty's mail carriers to measure distances as they traveled on the King's business. In order to place the stones at proper intervals along the road without wearily measuring the distance with a chain, Frank- lin devised a contrivance which he attached to his carriage-wheel, and which, adding up the revolu- tions of the wheel, indicated the distance. This was the forerunner of the modern cyclometer and speed- ometer. * News of the battle of Bunker Hill with an account of the death of Warren and the gallant conduct of the militia of Massachusetts had come to Washington shortly after his departure from Philadelphia. Upon the receipt of these tidings, Washing- ton exclaimed, with great earnestne.ss — "The liberties of the Country are safel" 182 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE bridge understands and shares the enthusiasm of the tour- ist, and caters to his highest and best Americanism ; whether it be in the pursuit of historic knowledge or in the payment of homage to her many geniuses of hterature. It may be that the presence of Harvard College, whose expansion has kept pace with the growth of the community, has made of Cambridge something of a 'high brow' among her neighbors. The very residence here of the presidents and professors of the university, — among whom may be numbered Longfellow and Holmes, Lowell, Agassiz and Phil- lips Brooks, — would in itself have been sufficient to bestow extraordinary eclat upon the town. Worthy John Harvard endowed the institution in 1638, and, ever since, Cambridge has displayed a dignified character in strict keeping with in- tellectual Boston across the river. Many of the fine old houses of the town are very strik- ing. The passer-by will remark many a curtained window- ledge adorned with a row of books, lending an unquestioned air of distinction to the premises and emphasizing the fact — known to all publishers- — that Massachusetts is the best book-buying state in the union. The dilettante visiting Cambridge, noting at once these evidences of a taste in com- mon with his own, feels immediately in his element and prepares to enjoy to the full the sweets of refinement. Among the vast group of buildings comprising Harvard University, that possessing the greatest interest for us is old ''Massachusetts Hall,'' from the fact that it is contemporary with the times of which we write. Erected in 1720, it was a silent partner in the enterprise of liberty, for within its substantial brick walls many of the hastily assembled levies were barracked. Just a few rods distant is the Wadsworth House, used from the days of Dr. Benjamin Wadsworth to those of Edward Everett as the residence of the college presidents ; here too, immediately after reaching Cambridge. Washington established his headquarters, and remained for a little time until a more commodious dwelling could be IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 183 provided. It is a simple wooden structure with gambrel roof, built on the outer fringe of the campus, immediately adjourning the newly erected Widener Memorial Library, which splendid building perpetuates the memory of young Harry Elkins Widener of Philadelphia who went down to an untimely death on the ill-fated Ti- tanic in 1912. Much could be written concerning Harvard, but space forbids. Vis- ited during the school year, you will most likely meet some very in- teresting boys, who will gladly escort you about the grounds, through the college build- Old •ilii^iu-husetts Hall— Hai-vai-fl College. iugS, Or eVSn shoW you the 'live spots' in the town itself, with a simple youth- ful enthusiasm which is refreshing, and many comments from their own up-to-the minute viewpoint which will mean a great deal to you. In summer you will encounter a different class of students. There are many short special courses arranged for those of all ages and both sexes who wish to avail themselves of the opportunity for self-im- provement, and it will do you good to meet some of the men and women of mature years who are still young enough to expand their mental horizons. Above all things, leave the college grounds by the west gate, and as you pass out, read the words inscribed upon the arch above and treasure the admonition in your heart — "Depart, better to serve thy country and thy kind." 184 IX FREEDOIVrS CAUSE Wiulsvvorth Hous^c. Cambridge — Formerly residence of tlie Presidents of Harvard University. This was Washington's first headquarters at Cambridge. It is conceded that the famous 'old ehii' at Cambridge, beneath which Washing- ton stood when he assumed com- mand of the army on ^ Jm^^\ July 3rd, 1775, the most note worthy natur- al landmark of Revolutionary New England. Contrary t o general opin- ion, this ven- erable tree still lives, and what remains of it is apparently hale and hearty. It was indeed disfigured a few years ago when a wide-spreading section, perhaps a third part of its bulk, gave way before the roughness of the elements; but the goodly portion which yet remains may, with a little care, be preserved for another half century at least. Surrounded by an iron railing, with its simple white- stone marker, it occupies a little insular plot of greensward in the middle of the old Boston road, in so conspicuous a situation that there is no fear of its being overlooked by any passing traveler. History tells us that the ceremonies connected with Washington's assumption of office were fittingly brief, and that the impressive episode beneath the elm. which has been so often described and depicted was soon concluded. From the countryside for miles around had assembled crowds of curious spectators to view the person of the famous Vir- ginian ; the army being drawn up in review across the Green f )r the occasion. With W^ashington were probably Generals Charles Lee and Artemas W^ard, two of the newly elected Brigadiers, the latter of whom had, up to this time, been the IX FREEDOM'S CAUSE 185 acknowledged leader of the patriot forces operating around Boston. On this, the initial appearance of Washington as commander-in-chief, he did little more than to display his i^ugust personage, — tastefidly attired in blue and buff "with rich epaulets and a black cockade in his hat" — and officially to unsheathe his sabre with dignified significance. The so-called 'little army', over which Washington had been called to take command, was by no means so insignifi- cant as might be supposed; there were, perhaps, fourteen thousand men quartered hi and around Cambridge in the summer of 1775, a much larger force than he was to have nt his disposal two years later. True, they were exceedingly poor as regards equipment, but their morale ran high: as yet no great disasters had befallen the cause they represented, and — as a nucleus of the military organization which was to defend the rights of America- they were not to be despised. As to this, the British were already willing to attest. The first duties of the new leader were clearly evident. The intensive blockade of Boston must be continued, and the enthusiasm and loyalty of the troops — of which there was an abundance — must be turned to good account by the speedy co-operation of cannon and ammunition, which were as yet conspicuous by their absence. During the interim between 'Lexington' and the ar- rival of Washington on the scene had occured those spec- tacular exploits of Ethan Allen at Ticonderoga, Seth Warner at Crown Point, and Benedict Arnold at St. Johns, which have invested Lakes George and Champlain with undying interest. All of this beautiful 'lake region' was therefore under the absolute control of the New Englanders in the fall of 1775, and from this quarter it was determined to draw the ordnance necessary to oust the British from their snug headquarters in Boston town. To young Henry Knox, former book-seller of Boston, and volunteer in the colonial army, was intrusted the herculean task of bringing down this artillery from the scattered and decayed fortifications 186 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE along the Canadian border. This he accompUshed mid the rigours of winter and in so doing 'won his spurs', for ever thereafter he was near to the heart of Washington and throughout the war was pre-eminently the artillery chief upon whom the commander relied. But other less- fortunate events soon transpired in the Northland during that fateful first winter of the Revolu- tion, and before spring came a more serious turn had been given to affairs by the failure of the ill-advised enterprise against the British posts in Canada, wherein Montgomery and Arnold were defeated before the walls of Quebec. On the last day of December, 1775, the former lost his life in a desperate attempt to scale the walls of the Canadian citadel, and Arnold — griev- ously wounded — had barely been able to withdraw his forces without a crushing disaster. It seems strange that AVashington gave his sanction to this foolhardy enterprise, but it appears that he did not realize the full extent of the difficulties to be encountered. None more than he re- gretted the pre- mature death of poor Montgomery, and it is quite evident that ever after, throughout the long period of the war. prudence — rather than the chance success which might at- tend brilliant though risky enterprises — was the confirmed course of the Commander-in-Chief. We shall have no oc- In Renienil)raiice of the attempt that failed. — Memorial Tablet at Stratton, Maine — (Courtesy of Prank A. Kraus. .Ir.) iiN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 187 imsion to revert to the Canadian campaign in the course of our narrative, but it may be of interest to those who read these pages to look upon the picture of a memorial stone, erected in the backwoods of Maine, reminiscent of the pass- ing of Colonel Benedict Arnold and the patriots who tried and failed. Meanwhile Washington, still at Cambridge, had taken up his permanent headquarters in the spacious Vassall mansion on the old Watertown Road — now Brattle Street. This elegant residence was one of several which had been the homes of those Royalist gentry who had discreetly re- tired to Boston when the patriots became active. Thus va- cated, they afforded very acceptable housings for the in- creasing number of officers who, with their suites, gathered around the general base of mobilization. For eight months Washington made his home in this delightful manse, which has since come in for added literary fame through the long residence here, from 1837 to 1882, of the poet Henry Wads- worth Longfellow. Painted tastefully in a pleasing combi- nation of white and pale yellow, surrounded by an ample garden, with a clear parkway before its entrance-gate stretching down to the banks of the Charles, it is one of the beauty spots of New England. Likewise is this elegant mansion rich in history. One hundred and sixty eventful years have passed over it with- out perceptible blemish. Before Washington's occupancy, Glover's Marblehead regiment had been billeted in its stately apartments; after the Revolution — when it came into possession of Dr. Andrew Craigie, who had been the Apothecary General to Washington's army — it offered hos- pitality to the famous Talleyrand, Napoleon's shrewd Min- ister of State . Here also lodged Jared Sparks, the eminent biographer of Washington, (when in later years. Dr. Craig- ie's widow maintained a boarding-place for college profes- sors and other 'Brahmans' of the university town). It was in the humble role of a 'roomer' that Longfellow first set 188 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE THK ('KAIGIK-L()N(;FKLIA)W house, CAMBRIDGK An umiMiitl vipw from the garden foot ill the mansion which he was later enabled to purchase ('iitright. It does one good to contemplate the spectacle of ." man of letters in a position of easy affluence: this was the happy situation of the genial author of 'Tales of a Wayside Iim" during the greater part of his life in Cambridge. The poet's study was the room which Washington had used as a private office, just to the right of the entrance on the ground floor. My photograph, taken from an unfamiliar angle, shows its two open windows. The corner chamber, directly above, is said to have been the sleeping apartment of the Commander. Despite its memories of great Washington, the 'Cam- Iridge Headquarters' impresses more forcefully of the poet than of the warrior. About the premises lingers such an aura of tranquility that in contemplation of the fine old colonial doorway we think rather of the picturesque Long- fellow with snowy beard smiling a kindly greeting to little IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 189 children, than of the sterner Washmgton issuing directions to scurrying orderlies. Whatever there was of sentiment about the Vassall House during the military regime was probably supplied by Lady Washington, who came to Cam- bridge for the first of her several transient abodes by the side of her illustrious partner "for better or for worse." True to her inborn traditions of Southern hospitality, she utilized the drawing-room of the mansion to good purpose, and here held a number of receptions for the select social circle of officers and ladies attached to the Cambridge camp. If Washington was grave and pre-occupied during these days, it was not without reason. Someone has said that it is not easy to see how he survived the year 1775, worried to a point of distraction by the colonial poverty, the exasper- ating annoyances, the outspoken criticisms, the continual dissensions in Congress, and the selfishness and stupidity of those in high places, which hampered his every effort to guide war-like preparations in widely separated parts of the country, and to create an efficient military system for a people entirely unaccustomed to such a thing. From Cambridge, under date of September 21st, 1775, we have his letter to Congress indicating that already the war-time responsibilities and troubles had come in earnest. He tells of the want of discipline, the evils of short term en- listments, the lack of almost everything necessary to 'run' an army — the same story we shall hear told and retold a hundred times during the course of the struggle. Congress never set a pace for promptitude, and Washington, through- out the Revolution, was continually at his wits' end to in- duce the remittance of funds and the supply of necessaries. What was the type of 'the man in the ranks' during our struggle for independence? We, — who have recently wit- nessed the phenomenon of a great army in which business- nien and students, aristocrats and day-laborers, have met upon a common level and have been welded into a great 190 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE effective unit — are prone to speculate as to the personnel of the Continental Army. As has been indicated, the short term enlistment was the thorn in the side of Washington, and volunteers of this type constituted the greater part of the army of 1775-76. The later augmentations were largely state levies, consisting for the most part of conscripted men, whose terms of service depended upon the duration of the war. Each province had also its regularly organized local militia, which was often separate and distinct from the army of Congress. In many instances, when the emergency warranted, these bodies of troops acted solely under the instructions of state offi- cials or their own accredited officers. As in the case of General Stark's 'Green Mountain Boys' at Benning- ton and Bemis Heights, they invari- ably fought with great valor, for it was for them a matter of defending homes and firesides. Over three-quarters of the boys of '76 were farmers or farmers' sons. We have but to recall the fact that Mother England did not encourage manufacturing in the American col- onies to comprehend this situation. Plain, honest and courageous, the lads of English or Dutch ancestry who formed the backbone of the patriot army were, as a whole, a sturdy type of frontiersmen. The officers were largely drawn from the so-called 'upper classes', for then, even as in our day. there existed a trace of distinction between the varied strata of humanity both in private and public life. Many men of prominence throughout the provinces having ONE OP GLOVER'S MEN This bronze statue of .Tohn Rus- sell, a soldier of Colonel John Glover's Maspat-husetts Ri gi- ment, (often referred to as 'Mar- blehead Fishermen') adorns the entrance to the Trenton BattK' Monument. It is typical of the 'man in the ranks' of the Con- tinental Army. (Wm. Rudolf O' Donovan, Sculptor) IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 191 had previous military experience in the Colonial Wars, or — as civilians — being patriotically inclined and well regarded in their particular communities, formed companies in their own bailiwicks, and usually went out with them into active service, commanding in person. Hence the frequent refer- ences to "Marion's men," "Maxwell's New Jersey Brigade" or "Glover's Massa- chusetts fisher- men." As to the gen- eral officers of the army, every one of them was a volun- teer, and all were men of sterling wort h though represent- ing many walks of life and shades of character, from the lordly Washington and the devout Muhlenburg to the Monument to Gen. Hugh ilereer at Fredericksburg, Va., rough -and- ready erected V^y the united States Government in 1906, in fultillment of a long forgotten appropriation, made for jVIorffan. that purpose over a hundred years ago Congress, in issuing commissions to the brigadier gen- erals, was influenced by many motives of policy, too. Each state had its popular heroes and demanded that recognition be awarded them. Washington himself was not averse to turning to his personal friends when he needed trustworthy men for high places and, in this connection, it is interesting to remember that the old city of Fredericksburg, — virtually the 'home town' of Washington — furnished two native sons who bore the title of General. Dr. Hugh Mercer conducted a drug shop in the old building still standing at the corner of Main and Amelia Streets, while George Weedon was the proprietor of the 'Rising Sun Tavern' a favorite rendezvous 192 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE of Washington in the same village. Strange as it may seem in this day when 'efficiency' is strangulated by its own in- tricacies, the apothecary and the inn-keeper furnished the material from which generals were made at short notice, — but I suppose that extremity knows no precedent. Mercer, who was a first-rate physician and had seen service at the side of Washington in the French War, proved to be a good selection ; he was a most efficient and capable officer and his death at Princeton was a severe blow to the patriot cause. A splendid monument at Fredericksburg perpetuates his memory. Of Weedon, less can be said. He resigned his commission during the Valley Forge winter be- cause of some controversy respecting rank, and thereafter is only mentioned as a minor figure in the events which were purely local to Virginia. What is true of Mercer and Weedon, as representing officers of high rank, was true of the 'lesser lights' who wore the epaulets and exercised authority over others. Good officers were so beloved that often discipline suffered ; bad officers were so heartily detested that chronic insubordina- tion became the order of the day. Among the northern troops especially, where there were fewer social extremes, the pill of 'obedience to orders' was a particularly bitter one to swallow, and the soldiers chafed wretchedly under the un- wonted discipline. In and around Boston there was, at first, little attemp; at vigorous enforcement of army rules and regulations. One farmer was a Colonel, his next-door-neighbor a private in the ranks. To shake hands and slap each other on the back was the natural thing to do. Nevertheless it was unmili- tary; and sooner or later the lines of personal equality and army etiquette had to be sharply defined. Colonel Prescott, who — shortly after 'Bunker Hill' — was seen carrying home a quarter of veal, must — if he would command respect and obedience — gradually delegate such menial service to some orderly; while the captain of horse who at the outset had IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 193 no hesitancy in shaving the beard of a husky 'doughboy' found it necessary to cease his brotherly attentions, if he would expect the stern commands of the battlefield to be obeyed without question. Thus — in a democratic country — the breach between officer and private, opened through necessity, has widened into the great gulf which can never be bridged with safety. General George Weeden's 'Rising Sun Tavenn', Fredericksburg, Va. Washington himself was a 'stickler' for discipline. On one occasion he expressed concern because of undue famili- arity between officers and privates, intimating that the lat- ter would ultimately regard their superiors "as no more than a broomstick." Just what Washington thought of the general run of privates is something of a question, in the consideration of which we must bear in mind that he him- self was never one who mingled freely with the masses. In their proper place, provided they were tractable and faith- ful, the soldiers could always count on him for a 'square deal,' but he was far from being one of the approachable type like Abraham Lincoln. This aloofness was part of his 194 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE nature; he was solicitous for the welfare of the soldiers, collectively, yet perhaps never took any of them to his bosom. The pay of the private soldier was then, as now, ex- ceedingly meagre. Washington, writing to Congress in Sep- tember, 1776, advocated a more liberal remuneration for his troopers. Upon his recommendation there was granted to each man who should serve throughout the war an addi- tional "bounty of twenty dollars and one hundred acres of land" with a "yearly suit of clothing" while in service. Many of the officers, in lieu of or in addition to their pay, received from Congress or the state legislatures very ex- tensive grants of real estate. In many cases these large tracts of timber or farm land became the basis of an inde- pendent fortune to be transmitted to their posterity. The searching of old titles reveals many interesting instances of this nature. General Knox was greatly profited by reason of the able management of his New England grants ; Baron Steuben owned a large parcel of ground in Bergen County, N. J., acquired in the same way. Quite recently the matter was brought home to my own door, so to speak, when I dis- covered that one of the small pieces of property owned by my father, in Onondaga County, New York, was originally part of a grant given by that state to a minor commissioned- officer of militia, who had fought with General Herkimer at the Battle of Oriskany. The Pension Department at Washington has a very complete file of the soldiers of the Revolution. Surprising as it may seem, it is nevertheless true that the old regiment- al records were kept with great accuracy. Far distant as these times seem to the casual reader of history, they come astonishingly near when one takes the trouble to look up the data concerning his own colonial forefathers. Anyone desiring to establish his eligibility to membership in the so- cities of Revolutionary descendants will find this to be true. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 195 To me it is a source of pride to be able to say that my mother's great-grandfather, John O'Neil, followed Wash- ington as a private soldier, serving throughout the entire period of the war; yet some folks seem to be devoid of senti- ment in this regard. A certain family possessed a fine old "THEY GAVE US LIBERTY" From Copyright Painting by H. M. Brett. (Acknowledgements to the Osborne Company, Newark, N. J., publishers of Art Calendars) sabre, positively known to have been carried by a Revolu- tionary cavalryman. What, think you, was the fate of the historic sword? — a place over the parlor mantle? No in- deed. Disgraceful to narrate, it was cut up into butcher knives "because it was made of good steel!" — a circum- stance almost as ironical as the poet's fancied sacrilege, when mayhap "Great Caesar, turned to clay, might stop a chink to keep the wind away." Charles Knowles Bolton, in his very informative book, "The Private Soldier under Washington," has rendered this generation a distinct service by his minute recital of the daily conditions under which the men in the ranks labored. 196 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE Quoting always from original authorities, he reveals inter- esting details concerning their hardships, recreations, duties, rewards and punishments, making a book well worth the reading. The fact that there was very 'little doing' around Bos- ton in the winter of 1775-76 has given me the opportunity for rambling hither and yon; now to pick up the story of Washington where we left it — Spring came with no prospect of relief for the British. Had they known that at one time, during those long months of inactivity, the Americans had scarce enough powder to keep two guns working for half a day, it is probable that a successful sortie could have been made. Of this condition — it is quite evident — they must have been blissfully unaware. Meantime the furn- aces in the Jersey Hills had been working overtime turning out iron balls, some powder had been made by the provin- cials after a fashion, while still more had come in the nick of time from the South and from enemy ships captured by American privateers. The British were free to come and go by sea, and, of course, kept in closest possible touch with their homeland government, going so far — as was revealed by intercepted correspondence — as to plan for a diver- sion in Virginia, where the discredited Dunmore was ever-ready to inflict destruction. Yet they remained inactive. The siege of Boston came to an abrupt climax, however, when the patriots suddenly took up and fortified a com- manding position on Dorchester Heights south of the city, and planted batteries so alarmingly near the works of the enemy that they instantly 'sat up and took notice'. The The Monument on Dorchester Heights, Boston IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 197 «L'ompliments of a few shells thrown into the city and as quickly reciprocated did not mend matters, but rather sdarmed the poor civilian population, whose cup of misery, already filled to the brim, seemed about to overflow. Gen- eral Howe had now to select between the unattractive pros- pect of having the city pounded to pieces about his ears, the dangerous course of openly attacking the Americans, or the humiliating choice of a complete withdrawal from the city 'while the going was good'. After some half-hearted prepa- rations for resistance, he decided to follow the prompting of prudence; and intimating to Washington — in a round- about way — that the city would be spared further horrors if he were allowed to depart in peace, he hastily put his troops aboard the royal shipping and set sail for Halifax on St. Patrick's Day, March 17th. 1776. So you see that Bos- ton may with good reason celebrate the birthday of Ireland's ]:>atron saint. Upon the day following the evacuation, Washington ^entered the city in triumph. The bloodless victory had been well worth the waiting. Church bells pealed, the people rejoiced and made merry, and once more old Faneuil Hall rang with unrestrained expressions of patriotism, for on that day there remained in all the colonies from IMassachusetts to Georgia not a single soldier of Great Britain supporting ?rms in behalf of the disputed authority of George the King. There is a monument upon Dorchester Heights, re- sembling a detached church tower, which conmiemorates the expulsion of the British from Boston. This historic min- aret, with the nearby Aquarium and Marine Park, is about all the tourist will find to claim his interest in South Boston. Roxbury contains many old landmarks of the colonial and Revolutionary periods, and the site of 'Roxbury Upper Fort', one of the positions in the American lines during the siege, is marked by the lofty tower in Highland Park. Every one of the towns adjoining Boston has something worth v.-hile to offer the student of history; finely preserved old 198 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE mansions which have sheltered patriot leaders, colonial dig- nitaries, or British officers. Should I begin to speak of them there would be no stopping. THE ENTRANCE TO BOSTON COMMON In Revolutionary times the Common was a drilling ground for soldiers, in later years a rendezvous for the famous men and women who have made Boston their home. The State House, whose dome is seen on the right, occupies the site of the ancient 'Beacon Hill'. Boston finally in the hands of the Americans, and measures taken properly to provide for its defense should another attempt be made against it, the thoughts of Wash- ington turned to other fields, where, ciuite evidently, some- thing unexpected in the way of reprisal might be looked for. General Lee had already been dispatched to New York City and then sent farther South in anticipation of the un- foreseen; Putnam was presently ordered to Manhattan to take his place, and Greene was entrusted with the protection of Brooklyn and Long Island. Washington himself, push- ing the troops before him, came down by way of Providence, Norwich and New London, arriving in New York on the 13th of April. The first sign of renewed activity on the part of the ousted British came on the 28th of June, when their fleet appeared off Charleston, South Carolina, and attempted to IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 199 A RELIC OF REVOLUTIONARY NEW YORK Now adorning "Battery Park." Old Cannon excavated in 1892 on the site of 55 Broadway, corner of Exchange Alley, where stood the preRcvolutionary fortification called "Oyster Pasty", 1695-1783. gain possession of the city. But Colonel Moultrie, aided by such heroes as Sergeant Jasper, defended his log fort with such energy that the attacking squadron was not sorry to withdraw. The cause of justice had been well vindicated in the year which had elapsed since Washington left Philadelphia: soon it was to be a recognized cause of freedom. The transi- tion was gradual. While the army had been doing its best, the provincial Congress, despite its supineness at times, was attempting to fulfill its functions and anticipate in a meas- ure, the inevitable course of events. When the liberty bell rang out the tidings of proclaimed independence, months of thought, and labor, and mental struggle found utterance. Thomas Paine, that much-maligned old skeptic, had in his 'Common Sense' pamphlet done much to prepare the minds of the people for this necessary and irrevocable step. Frank- Im, Hancock, Adams and Jefferson had been busy for 200 IX FREEDOM\S CAUSE months as a committee to work toward this definite end, and the latter had burned the michiight oil for a week as he pored over the iiftmortal manuscript of the Declaration. No one visits Philadelphia without at least passing In- dependence Hall and indulging in a bit of approving mental comment because of its inviolate sanctity. During the course of the last few years it has been undergoing a series of changes, all tending to restore it to its original condition. As we see it now, it is practically as it was in 1776.* First and foremost among the many objects of venera- tion treasured within the brick walls of the State House is the liberty bell, that sacred icon of American history. Oacked in 1835, while tolling on the occasion of the death of Chief Justice !vlarshall, it has occupied a silent place of honor for almost a century. That its injury may not be- come more serious, the original rift has been widened and reamed-out at its termination, and for its protection from too-ardent admirers, as well as from thievish relic-hunters, a heavy glass cabinet has been built around it. Only on some very notable occasion is this removed, and we, being but ordinary mortals, must deny ourselves the pleasure ot endeavoring to test its tonal quality by rapping upon its brazen rim with pocket-knives or umbrella-handles. That the liberty bell is dear to American hearts was abundantly demonstrated during the strenuous months of the World War. In the enthusiasm of popular song, the silent hero of the Revolution was besought to ring once again, and, depicted upon 'liberty-loan' posters as an incen- tive to patriotism, it made its own appeal, — spiritual per- haps, but never in vain. * Since KfvoUitionary days various "reconstructions' had been inflicted upon Inde- pendence Hall; and tlie cxainination of a complete series of old prints illustrative of Philadelphia's historic .Stat(t House will reveal a strange series of variations in Us appearance. In all of them, however, the central building and the square clock-tower have their identity. From 1802 until his death, Charles Wilson Peale, the eminent portrait painter and naturalist, utilized the upper floor of the hall for his celebrated museum, being granted this privilege, without payment of any rental, by the muni- cipality. This truly noteworthy collection of paintings and art objects, together with specimens of th(> ta'xidermi<' skill of the collector, bones of extinct mammoth, etc,, wag one of the first of its kind in America, the fore-runner of our numerous present day exhibits of like character, permanently installed in the larger cities of the country. IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE 201 Then there are the old leather chairs ranged around the 'Declaration Room', the identical seats occupied by the sign- ers, which have one-by-one been acquired from their descen- dants. Some show evidence of careful keeping, apparently they have always been treated with wholesome respect. Others are decidedly the worse for wear, displaying signs of THK HKART OV PHILADELPHIA Independence Hall, with its bell-tower, in the foreground. hai-d usage and neglect, with the dark leather frayed and torn and, in one or two cases, the 'stuffings' protruding. These historic thrones are marked, wherever possible, with the names of their former distinguished occupants. The portraits of the men who signed the proclamation of liberty are suspended from the walls of the spacious chamber. All of them are admirably executed in oil, and, we have reason to believe, with every attempt at fidelity. What a series of character studies they present to the visitor, \.ho approaches softly to examine them in detail! There is kindly George Read of Delaware ; gorgeous Lewis Morris of New York; George Wythe of Virginia, with bald and intel- 202 IN FREEDOM'S CAUSE • - lectual pate ; the devout Charles Carroll of Maryland ; ener- getic Dr. Bartlett of New Hampshire; Roger Sherman, the sturdy Connecticut farmer; cultured Richard Stockton of New Jersey; Arthur Middleton of South Carolina, with head bowed in thought; and the honest John Penn of the North Carolinian province, who retired a poor man after long years of pubUc life. No finer group of statesmen ever assembled on God's foot-stool than these representatives of the American people, who set their names to the proclama- tion of independence. None of the military chiefs of the patriot army are numbered among the signers, for they were busily employed in other quarters, preparing to back by force of arms the new vision of an American Commonwealth — a dream which, as swiftly as galloping couriers could bear the news, animat- ed the heart of every patriot from Pilgrim New England to the sunny Southland. There had indeed been granted to the patriots a respite, all too brief, from the tense agony of war. It was, however, but the calm before the storm, a dead silence stirred only by the fateful pealing of the liberty bell. Scarce had ceased the cadence of its sonorous clanging, when the impending hurricane broke with all its fury. FIGHTING RETREAT" 7T\ HE events of 'first magnitude', which had been transpir- ^^ ing in New England since the war began, seem to have completely overshadowed the happenings in and around New York during 1775. Most of us are familiar enough with the general course of events, but not one in a hundred has 'read up' on the series of thrilling episodes which marked Manhattan's year of preparation. The attention of Congress had, likewise, been focussed elsewhere, and it was up to General Lee* to make the most of the scanty means at his disposal. For months prior to the coming of the British 'grand fleet', the frigate "Asia" had lain in impudent security off Staten Island. Then came another — the "Phoenix", — of forty-four guns. During the winter the ice in the bay had *General Charles Lee was not American born, nor was he in any way connected ■with Richard Henry Lee or 'Light Horse Harry\ Originally an officer of the British Army, he had become something of a soldier of fortune, having served with honor in several Eurojiean campaigns, and \indrr various sovereigns. Settling in Virginia a few years prior to the Revolution, he immediately embraced the cause of the patriots and was awarded recognition on the strength of his military experience. By the British he was regarded as a 'turncoat', by the Americans as a military genius. Later in the course of the war he lost iirestige and was 'shelved'. 204 THE FIGHTING RETREAT THE LOWER PORTION OP NEW YORK CITY AND THE BAY The dim outlines of Staten Island are seen upon the horizon. The Brooklyn shore- line appears upon the left, with Governor's Island, (now the Eastern Headquarters of the U. S. Army) in the middle distance. made the anchorage of the "Asia" insecure and she moved in so close to the city that she actually became grounded at the foot of Whitehall Street, exposed to the guns of 'the Battery'. Yet, as neither party availed themselves of this beautiful opportunity for a scrimmage, the incident passed off quietly when high tide releavSed the unwelcome guest. Surely the proximity of these hostile craft was an ever- present annoyance to the patriots of New York, and un- doubtedly tended to check any great show of military activ- ity on the part of the citizens. On the other hand, the ships' officers took no aggressive action for the sake of the royalists who still remained in the city, being warned by General Lee that any demonstration on then* part would bring speedy retribution upon the interned subjects of the king. Tryon, the royal governor of New York, who had made the utmost efforts, though in vain, to induce the people of Manhattan to cling to the cause he represented, had him- self been obliged to quit the city and was living aboard one THE FIGHTING RETREAT 205 of the floating fortresses, eagerly awaiting the coming of the flotilla which was to uphold his authority. It has been said, with truth, that "the first American Navy came into being in New York waters." When the "Phoenix", tucking herself snugly away in one of the coves of Staten Island, began to play the part of blockader — pouncing out upon small and unsuspecting traders, whom she scuttled or robbed of their cargoes — it became necessary for the New Yorkers to do something in the way of reprisal. In this emergency, with their commerce well-nigh ruined, the patriots of Manhattan began to assemble a make-shift fleet. An unsightly collection it was, — schooners, sloops and whaleboats — but, manned by fearless volunteers, re- inforced by longshoremen and fishermen, and commanded by Lieut. Benjamin Tupper (an 'old salt' who knew his business) it soon proved itself invaluable. Out through Long Island Sound these little vessels ran back and forth, retaliating time and again upon British supply ships arriv- ing from Europe. So it resolved itself into a game of give and take, with the odds not altogether in favor of the enemy. Moreover, it was this same little fleet which was to save a large portion of the American Army, performing its last and greatest service as the factor which made possible their escape from Long Island a few weeks later. The early summer of 'Independence Year' found Wash- ington and his principal officers quartered in the lower por- tion of the city. Mrs. Washington, together with many others of the wives of the American leaders, shared their temporary lodgings; that of the Commander-in-Chief be- ing located at Kennedy House , to this day known as "num- ber one Broadway." The large office building which now occupies this historic corner would certainly never arouse the interest of the passer-by were it not for the bronze tablet v/hich, all too briefly, tells us that not only Washington, but Clinton and Carleton ( during the subsequent period of Brit- ish occupancy) here maintained official headquarters. 206 THE FIGHTING RETREAT BOWLING GREEN, NEW YORK CITY, with the new Custom House in the background. Left-hand insert, section of the Bowling Green railing. Right hand insert, Number One Broadway from the Green. Washington, upon his arrival in New York about the middle of April, found that General Lee had displayed good judgment in his preliminary attempts at putting the city in a state of defense. The few brass cannon which had been brought down from Boston were carefully distributed among the redoubts at the Battery, Red Hook and the strategic points about Brooklyn and the Jersey shore, while a provi- dential shipment of powder, secretly arrived from France, was discreetly apportioned among the widely separated fortifications. It was but natural that the southern extremity of Manhattan, where was located the colonial 'Fort George', should be given first attenion. The familiar Battery Park of our own day covers an area somewhat larger than that of Revolutionary times, for the site of the present Aquarium was then detached from the mainland. There has been much 'filling in' hereabouts, and it would be diflacult to name with precision the exact site of any of the defensive works of 1776. Washington attempted to strengthen the defenses already undertaken by Lee in other quarters, in addition to THE FIGHTING RETREAT 207 which he began the construction of a second line across the Heights of Harlem, eleven miles from the Battery. Upon the highest ridge of the 'back-bone' of rock which underlies Manhattan Island, Fort Washington was laid out; while upon the companion bluff on the Jersey side of the Hudson, Fort Constitution (soon re-christened Fort Lee) was begun in high hopes of impregnability. With so extensive a cordon of out-works and such a far-reaching system of protective fortifications, Washington could do little more than bide his time and await the unforeseen developments of the future. The somewhat abortive attempt at the obstruction of the Hudson and the East River channels comprises a story in itself, being a subject upon which we shall permit ourselves more fully to indulge after we have disposed of the mo- mentous events which are now rapidly pressing to the fore- front of our tale. It has been estimated that Washington's entire com- mand did not, at this time, number more than twenty thousand, inclusive of the New England regiments. The so-called Continental Army was, at best, an inadequately outfitted and undisciplined body of recruits, and it is a matter of no wonderment that Washing- ton looked forward with some- thing like misgiving to the well nigh impossible task of holding the miles and miles of shore line skirting New York and Brook- lyn, when the enemy should put ^ . . ^ ,,^ ■ ^ ,. t,w w .v. r u •^ ' J L- British Officers Belt Plate, With G. R. in an appearance and prepare to in Bronze, recently found at Fort nm, contest the matter of ownership ^^"*'^" '^^^"''- 1 P n (Courtesj' New York 'Times') by force oi arms. The fact that Staten Island was thoroughly British in sympathy must have been recognized by Washington, for he made no attempt to safeguard it. Indeed he visited this lo- cality but once, the following brief item from his 208 THE FIGHTING RETREAT celebrated 'Expense Book' explaining when and why : "Thursday. April 25, 1776 — To the Expenses of myself & party recong. the sevi. Landing' places, &u. on Staten Island ±16.10'. Staten Island seems, throughout the Revolution, to have been a refuge for the hundreds of loyalists who had drawn themselves away from their more patriotic neighbors in New York Gity and upon the Jersey mainland. In fact this flocking to- gether of red- feathered birds led to the estab- lishing of an iso- lated communi- ty in hearty ac- cord with the cause of Eng- land ; w i t h i n sight of New York, it is true, but entirely alien in spirit. Hence it was that the British fleet, bearing Sir William Howe and the power- ful force with which he pro- posed to operate against the Americans, arriving from Halifax on the 28th of June, 1776, found a hearty welcome awaiting them, and a safe haven in ''the Narrows." Joy was unconfined among the Tories. Governor Tryon immediately waited upon Lord Howe and laid before that worthy the full details of the situation, without doubt pouring out a lengthy tale of woe. As if to reassure the royalists that the day of reckoning was at hand, forty more British vessels anchored in the lower THE OLD CITY HALL, NEW YORK CITY Near this spot, in July, 1776, the Declaration of Independence was read to the American Army. Above the older structure, erected 1803-'12, appears the tower of the new Municipal Building THE FIGHTING RETREAT 209 bay the very next morning and began at once to disembark their contingents of soldiery. Day after day brought addi- tional convoys of troops, among whom were fresh regiments of Hessian mercenaries direct from Europe, with such able officers as De Heister, Knyphausen and Dunop, and ere long Staten Island became a great armed camp, white with tents and bustling with activity. All this meant safety for the British sympathizers, but within New York reigned deepest anxiety and apprehension. Lord Howe, establishing himself at Tottenville — toward the southern end of the island — proceeded at once to fortify his great encampment. About the middle of July he was joined by his brother, Admiral Richard Howe, and by the first of September, having been further reinforced by Clin- ton and Cornwallis, he found himself at the head of no less than twenty-five thousand men, thoroughly seasoned and faultlessly equipped. Staten Island, thus completely alienated from the cause and control of the patriots, became the great base of oper- ations for the enemy, and — by reason of its dangerous prox- imity — a continual 'thorn in the flesh.' for the Americans. Separated from Elizabethtown by a barrier no more formid- able than the narrow Arthur Kill, communications in that quarter were constantly open, and the tale-bearing Tories of the interior of Jersey had ready access to the attentive ear of the British commander, who had much to gain by means of their nefarious schemes. Besides the major oper- ation which was about to be undertaken against Washing- ton, the several raids which devastated Jersey in a later period of the war had their origin here, and for six long years stolen provisions and chattels of all kinds found their way to the enemy's General Headquarters at New York through this convenient 'family entrance'. There are some portions of Staten Island which we may visit to-day in the assurance that they have a positive historic significance; other note-worthy sites have given 210 THE FIGHTING RETREAT Old 'Bellop House', Totteuville, Staten Island, built 1668. Occupied by Lord Howe in 1776. Here, after the battle of Long Island, he met Benjamin Franklin and John Adams in a last and futile attempt at conciliation. Howe offered 'for- giveness', but America had already pledged herself to the cause of complete liberation place to busy towns and pretty suburban communities thoroughly modern in appearance. As a matter of fact the entire island is liberally sprinkled with interesting places. The ruined stone houses amid the willows and low-lying marshes below New Dorp are romantic in the extreme, while upon the seaward-facing hills there are dozens of tall, white-pillared mansions, — many of them likewise forsaken, — telling of a period of opulence long since passed. Then there is Sailors' Snug Harbor, — with its splendid institu- tion, heavily endowed, where old jack-tars have permanen- ly cast anchor, — and the principal center of population, St. George, which is now the seat of greater New York's Bor- ough of Richmond. Altogether, Staten Island offers a com- bination entirely different from anything I have elsewhere encountered, but in so far as our story goes we must regard it as British territory pure and simple. Singular as it may appear, it is nevertheless true that affairs in New York City pursued their wonted course for nearly two months following the British occupancy of THE FIGHTING RETREAT 211 Stateii Island. Everyone was more or less peturbed in spirit, yet merchants bought and sold, and people went about as usual, attending to the routine duties of life. The news of the Declaration of Independence had traveled fast ; and, coming to New York at a time when the enemy were within sight and hearing, its effect was electric. On the 9th of July 1776, an uproarious mob of soldiers and civilians flocked to Bowling Green, pulled down the gilded equestrian statue of King George III, and after it had been knocked about and mutilated to the satis- faction of all concerned, the greater portion of it was sent to Connecticut to be run into bullets for the army. One of the very few relics of these strenuous times remaining in lower Manhattan to-day is the circular iron railing surrounding .. -r» T r\ T-i 1 TTT-/1 1''^'5 Statue of George III, which tmy Bowlmg Green rark. With- formerly stood in BowUng Green, New York Citv in this enclosure stood the regal From Drawing by CharlekM. Lefferts. statue. A close inspection of the crude hand-wrought iron pickets will convince anyone that it is the original fencing brought out from England in 1770, at the time the kingly effigy was erected. Concerning the desecrated statue of his majesty, fat and fatuous, I may inform the reader, that several frag- ments, including the tail of the horse, are now in the pos- session of the New York Historical Society, having been brought up, when ploughing, on a farm near Wilton, Conn. ; while one of the slabs of the pedestal turned up in Jersey City in 1818. After being used as a stepping stone for some sixty years more, it, too, was acquired by the Historical Society. Truly, royalty, both in effigy and in the flesh, hath had some tough experiences! 212 THE FIGHTING RETREAT New York experienced its first taste of actual warfare on the 12th of July, when five of the British ships sailed up the North River despite the opposition of the batteries on either shore. As they passed the wharves a destructive bom- bardment was opened upon the town, greatly upsetting the equilibrium of the inhabitants and filling the streets with frightened women and children. The smoke of battle hung over the city like a pall and the air was heavy with the smell of pow- der. The damage to the ships was inconsequential; and, continuing up stream, they experienced but little difficulty in forcing their way past Eort Wash- ington. Not un- til they h a d reached the ouiet "^ page prom the history of old new york. expanse of Tap- pan Zee, opposite Haverstraw, did they cast anchor. Here they remained for considerably over a month, a con- stant menace to the city far below. In a subsequent chap- ter we shall have something further to say upon this phase of the situation, coming more properly under the heading "The Watch on the Hudson". After this episode, the British chiefs sought a parley. Several officers of high rank attempted to get into commun- ication with Washington, and — after preliminary squabbles over 'diplomatic etiquette' (foremost among which was the This curiously constructt-d building at No. 7 State Street, facing Battery Park, was a witness to the events of 'Inde- pendence Ytar'. During Washington's presidency it was one of the finest mansions in town. It is at present occupied by the Mission of our Lady of the Rosary, and outwardly has experienced little change since the time it was built. This is one of the very few Revolutionary houses remaining in this locality. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 213 reluctance on the part of the Howes to address Washington by his military title of 'General') — Colonel Patterson, the British adjutant, finally secured an interview. Nothing was accomplished thereby, for the 'British Mission' could, at best, offer nothing more than a sweeping pardon to the 'erring' colonists, while the patriots were now fighting for liberation. This exchange of views took place on the 20th of July at the headquarters of Washington, Broadway and Bowling Green. Realizing that further attempts at pacification would be useless. General Howe prepared to fight it out. Wash- ington, too, made final dispositions for the impending con- flict; he sent away his documents and state papers, and called in every man who could possibly be spared from the outly- ing defenses, — from New Eng- land and from the Highlands of the Hudson. In a series of general orders to the army, he made it plain that a new campaign was about to begin, and urged upon all a spirit of fealty and united effort. Lady Washington left for Mount Ver- non, and the wives of the other general officers were likewise spirited away to places of safety. THE BROOKLYN SHORE LINE, near the spot where the British made their landing on Long Island, August 21-22, 1776. 214 THE FIGHTING RETREAT By the first of August it became evident to the de- fenders of New York that the crisis was rapidly approach- ing, although the 'where and when' of the British attack were mysteries sufficiently puzzling to keep Washington constantly on the qui vive. A week later the city was in a state of feverish agitation; danger signals had been arranged, and steps taken to permit the instant shifting of reinforcements to any point which might be threatened. On the 17th the Commander received intelligence that some elaborate operation was afoot in the enemy's camp, on the 18th the British ships which had gone up the Hudson re- turned to their anchorage in the Bay, again firing on the city as they passed, and on the 21st came a courier from Livingston, governor of New Jersey, bringing positive infor- mation that a force of twenty thousand had embarked pre- paratory to a simultaneous attack on Long Island, central Jersey, and the Hudson River defences. Next morning the roar of cannon in the east and dense columns of smoke hovering over Long Island gave summary notice that the British had begun their second campaign for the mastery of America, the final result of which no human foresight might reveal. The 'tramp historian' who visits Long Island nowa- days in search of precise localities must not expect too much. Most of the events associated with the Battle of Long Island occurred within the limits of the present enormous Bor- ough of Brooklyn. The British landed near Gravesend, made circuitous marches through LUrecht and Jamaica, and met the patriots in the decisive combat of the 27th of August by attacking what were then the works outlying the ancient village, but which have now — as a part of Pros- pect Park — become the center of the rapidly expanding city. If Brooklyn be devoid of Revolutionary landmarks, we must make every reasonable allowance in the knowledge that the old city was continuously in British possession from the late-summer of 1776 until the termination of the strug- THE FIGHTING RETREAT 215 gie; consequently we find no traces of prolonged and event- ful patriot occupancy. The growth of Long Island, in point of population, has been phenominal. Its proximity to New York City accounts for the 'real estate booms' which have developed the mul- titude of suburban communities within easy reach of the metropolis, beyond which an even greater number of more select 'aristocratic colonies' have arisen, all tending to swal- low-up or obliterate the isolated farm-houses of the Revolu- tionary period.* The present net-work of railroads and boulevards has, moreover, so completely altered the aspect of the countryside that the traveler must journey for over an hour from the heart of old Brooklyn before he smacks the salt sea air, homely frugality and Revolutionary history which, of right, belongs to Long Island. Then, alas, he wdll have gone beyond the territory made historically im- portant by events of first magnitude. The site of the Long Island battle, which stands out as Brooklyn's greatest event so far as history is concerned, is compassed — for the most part — within the beautiful acres of Prospect Park. Just outside its boundaries there stands to-day a landmark, which — had it existed in 1776 — would most certainly have changed the result of that disastrous engagement. It is a magnificent water-tower, sufficently artistic in construction to serve — were it suitably inscribed —as an appropriate battle monument. Just below it lies a small municipal reservoir, adjoining the spacious grounds of the Brooklyn Institute, while across Flatbush Avenue are the inviting solitudes of the Park. From the summit of this tower, which would have made a wonderful observa- tory for the patriots of long ago, it is possible to gain a very comprehensive idea of the plan of the engagement. Look- ing toward New York, the older section of Brooklyn lies * In Revolutionary times, many of my ancestors, members of the Horton and Gardner families, (some of them fisher-folk) lived on Long Island. They, like many others, handed down to their children's children stories of the British invasion. The red-coats swarmed into their little cottages; rummaging around, depleting larders and taking bread from ovens, but were — on the whole — not quite so blood- thirsty in their dealings with the civil population as one might expect. 216 THE FIGHTING RETREAT spread before us like a map. To the northward is Wallabout Bay and the present Navy Yard, to the south Gowanus Bay — a small arm of New York harbor. Between these 'indentations', the inner lines cf defense (enclosing the old town of some 1500 inhab- itants) had been arranged by General Greene, com- mander of the American forces on Long Island. Despite the numerical superiority of the enemy, Washington entertained some hopes of defending his outer line of entrenched positions, (stretching along the chain of little hil- locks from what is now Greenwood Cemetery to Cyprus Hills), in which opinion he was strength- ened, perhaps, by the leis- urely movements of the British. Five days were consumed by the latter in skirmishing and driving in outposts. Both armies were augmented with as much secrecy as possible, the British spreading their lines toward Utrecht and Flatlands, the Americans busily strengthening "Prospect Hill", considered to be the key to the situation. The visitor to Prospect Park, Brooklyn, will find no dif- ficulty in locating this ridge, which runs parallel to modern Flatbush Avenue. It is intersected by several gulleys, chief among which is the defile known to-day as "Battle Pass", in ancient times traversed by the old post-road running into the city. Across this much-travelled highway was thrown a barricade of hastily-felled trees, among them being the MUNICIPAL WATER TOWER, BROOKLYN, N. Y. Overlooking Prospect Park, scene of the Battle of Long Island. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 217 celebrated "Dongaii's Oak," a century-old monarch of the forest, named for one of the colonial governors of New York province. General Greene, thoroughly familiar with the scheme of defence and the routes by which' the enemy might be expected to attack, fell a victim to a severe illness conse- quent to his untiring effort, and — when he could least be 5:pared — was forced to entrust the responsibilities of the command to Putnam. This circumstance, coupled with Earl Percy's famous detour via the Jamaica road and his successful attack upon the slimly-protected north-flank of the Americans, was responsible for the disastrous result of the Battle of Long Island. At daybreak on the 27th of August, the British attack commenced. As was anticipated, there was a spirited frontal assualt upon "Prospect Hill." Here General Sulli- van found himself assailed by De Heister's Hessians. Gen- eral Stirling , defending the 'Bay end' of the Brooklyn lines, was likewise busily occupied, being confronted by large bodies of the enemy's troops. Washington, hastening over the East River from his headquarters in New York, had scarcely become convinced that the enemy had at last determined to force the passes, when — from his point of observation — he beheld with consternation the approach of heavy red-coated columns, bearing 'down from the north upon the unguarded American left wing. Telescope in hand, he witnessed from afar the agonizing spectacle of a disaster which all his foresight had been unable to avoid, and which no power under Heaven could, at that moment, avert. Notwithstanding their long night march, the troops of Earl Percy threw themselves upon the rear of Sullivan's regiments already seriously involved. Taken thus at a disadvantage and beset by superior numbers before and behind, the Amer- ican defenders of "Prospect Hill" fell into fearful confusion. In the hand-to-hand struggle which followed at the hope- lessly congested passes, the carnage was frightful. Vainly 218 THE FIGHTING RETREAT endeavoring to extricate themselves from the trap, nothing was left for the patriots but capitulation. Stirling, at the southern extremity of the line with his Alaryland and Delaware militia, found himself, ere long, in a like predicament. Jailing back in the face of overwhelm- ing odds, he was attempting to reach the inner lines by fording Gowanus Creek, when he encountered Lord Corn- wallis* with another strong division, completely blocking his retreat. Af- ter a desperate fight, he, too, was obliged to make virtue of necessi- ty, accepting the alternative of sur- render rather than annihilation. Thus it came about that, at the very outset of the British campaign, they sucecssfully cut-off some two thousand m e n from the Amer- ican army. ?vlany of the unfortun- ate ones who were taken captive were fated to languish for months in miser- able prison pens; others of the general officers, notably Stirling and Sullivan, were shortly exchanged, and — before Washington's retreat across New Jersey — we find them once again in the American camp. Through 'Battle Pass' there runs to-day a finely im- proved road, accommodating a constant stream of vehicular * This .vas the first appearance L>f Cornwallis upon a battle-field of the American War, in which prolonged contest he was destined to take a more prominent part than any other British officer. His final defeat, it will be called to mind, occurred under circumstances not altogether dissimilar. THE FIGHTI^sG RETREAT 219 traffic. How many, I wonder, among those who ride through this wooded gap in their luxurious limousines, have taken the trouble to familiarize themselves with its thrilling his- toric story? Surely there are plenty of informative and explanatory 'markers,' and the interested rambler wdll find himself amply compensated for the time spent in a brief ^stop-over'. To loiter for a half-hour among the deep gul- leys on either hand, now fragrant with modest flowers and bedecked with ferns, here to read the story of the brave defence of these picturesque knolls, — green carpeted and shady, is to study history with profoundest pleasure. Most certainly the Continental army had been badly worsted in the initial phase of their defence of Brooklyn. Indeed, the battle had been lost before mid-day. Such remnants of the broken American divisions as were able to escape from the melee made all haste to place themselves within the temporary security of the stronger but less exten- sive inner redoubts. The next move of the victorious British was awaited with a feeling of gravest concern and apprehension. Evidently this was not to be long delayed, for — having followed up the pursuit of the fugitives with great ardour — Lord Howe's troops came upon the scene in record time. So elated were they with the achievements of the morning that it was exceedingly difficult for their officers to restrain them from an immediate renewal of the attack. Lord Howe himself appears to have been well- satisfied with what had already been accomplished, for he decided against further hostilities that day, settling into position a few hundred yards distant from the American lines, and allowing his men to work off their surplus energy by throwing up a series of light entrenchments. This was, perhaps, in strict accord w^ith prudent military tactics; nevertheless Howe lost a golden opportunity thereby. His procrastination proved to be a 'life-saver' for our sadly- dejected little army and the great cause for which they fought. 220 THE FIGHTING RETREAT The celebrated retreat from Long Island, retrograde maneuver though it was, stands out as one of the big events in Washington's military career. After such a decisive defeat as that which his inexperienced troops had just suf- fered, even the most sanguine hopes of the Commander-m- Chief gave no promise of a reversal of fortune by a further stand on Long Island. While the defenders of Brooklyn, dis- heartened but not yet despairing, waited the resumption of the British attack, Washington, with ceaseless energy, hur- ried back and forth across the East River, trying to devise some means of safely withdrawing his forces from the posi- tion which was hourly becoming more dangerous. The ships of the enemy might, at any time, force their way up the river, in which event the plight of the troops on Long- Island would be hopeless. A night of anxiety followed the battle, then came another day of uncertainty. To retreat in the face of the British was to court disaster, to give battle presented a risk still greater. The 29th of August was a day of drizzling rain; nightfall came, black and stormy, but thereby bring- ing with it the way of escape. That very morning General Mifflin had come down from Fort Washington with CoL Glover's regiment of Massachusetts men, most of them well accustomed to the handling of boats. Then it was that New York's little make-shift navy proved its utility. These nondescript boats and the fishermen of Marblehead were the salvation of the patriots. "Never," as Washington Irving says, "did retreat re- quire greater secrecy and circumspection." Unfavorable winds, a contrary tide, and some blundering in the commun- ication of orders threatened, more than once, to disrupt the entire scheme. Yet, when morning dawned, nine thousand men — with horses and cannon — had been safely transported across the wide river to New York City, with the British in total ignorance of the exodus until the American lines were entirely deserted. It is said that W^ashington lingered THE FIGHTING RETREAT 221 until the last man had taken to the boats, and he is known to have personally supervised the entire embarkation; assuredly it was his courage and sagacity on this occasion which saved the half of his army from the extremity of peril. "BROOKLYN BRIDGE" Connecting New York City and Brooklyn. Across this portion of the East River the American troops were ferried in their retreat from Long Island, (seen on the farther shore). New York City could not, from its proximity to the British base of operations, be expected to offer Washington and his army any protracted tenancy. Equally disconcert- ing to the Commander was the prompt advance of the British fleet up the Bay and the epidemic of 'homesickness' which spread with alarming rapidity among his short-enlist- ment troops. Lower Manhattan soon became untenable by reason of the presence of the ships whose guns commanded the city. Having no desire to call forth a bombardment by reason of his presence, Washington moved northward toward the center of the island, far beyond the confines of the town. During this interval, with the American army daily lessening in numbers because of the departure of troops 222 THE FIGHTING RETREAT whose terms had expired and whom no amount of per- suasion could induce to continue in service, the British com- manders once again made concihatory overtures to the Continental Congress. In consequence, Lord Howe received in conference (at the Bellop House, Staten Island) a com- mittee consisting of Adams, Franklin and Rutledge, who — much to his disappointment — expressed themselves as being fully determined to persevere in the struggle for vindica- tion, despite the reverses of the summer. This decision was made, moreover, in the knowledge that Washington, accord- ing to his own communications to Congress, inust inevitably give ground again should the British press hostilities. The General, with this contingency in mind, was even then with- drawing stores and ammunition mto upper Manhattan and New Jersey. Meanwhile, the British had scattered themselves, like a plague of locusts, over the length and breadth of Long- Island, had established outposts as far up as Flushing on the Sound, and had made themselves masters of all the farther bank of the East River. Paulus Hook (Jersey City) had also fallen into their hands without much effort, and by the middle of September, Washington, although still within five or six miles of the Battery, 'slept with one eye open'. General Putnam, with about four thousand men, still lingered in the Murray Hill* section of the island, when, on September 15th, the British launched a simultaneous attack from both the Hudson and the East Rivers. The attempt upon the west shore, where the landing was made near Greenwich, seems not to have been of such propor- tions as that executed from Long Island. General Howe himself accompanied the East River contingent, compris- ing a great number of barges loaded to the water's edge with soldiers, who effected a landing near the present 34th Street Ferry. The militia, gathered to dispute the right of * Murray Hill derives its name from Robert Murray, a wealthy Quaker who — in Revolutionary times — resided on what is now Park Avenue, between 36th and 37th Streets. This now populous section of New York City was then farmland. Washington slept at the Murray homestead on the night of September 14th, 1776. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 223 way, made but a feeble resistance despite the presence of Washington, who had ridden over from the Murray home- stead at the first intimation of danger. It was on this occasion that the Generab exasperated beyond measure, bitterly exclaimed : "Are these the men with whom I am to defend America?" They were, in- deed. B u t Wash- ington was destined to learn, before the war was over, that these same fellows were capable of do- ing and daring al- most anything. After three or four years of campaigning, amid times of far greater stress than this, they proved themselves fully up to and be- yond any precon- ceived standards of their illustrious leader, and none more t h an he acknowledged it. In the present instance , however, a speedy 'get away' was more in order than a day-dream of future efficiency. Washington sent off a courier to Putnam, ordering him to march with all speed for the Heights of Harlem, and dis- patched instructions to his officers in that quarter to post "THE MARTYRS MONUMEKT' — Trinity Church Yard. New York City— Th( lot of the prisoners taken by the British dur- ing thii War of Independence was most deplorable. This Gothic spire perpetuates the memory of the men who succumbed beneath the intense rigours of their captivity. The old Rhinelander Sugar Hous-e (illustrated in our Chapter Heading) where many of these martyrs died, was located at William. Rose and Duane Streets, where now stands a towering brick structure devoted largely to tlie printing trades. One of the ancient iron-barred windows of the Sugar House is preserved at Van Cortlandt Park, another has been built into the wall of the present building occupying the historic site. 224 THE FIGHTING RETREAT themselves at all vantage points before the enemy should be able to forestall them. He himself, being unable to pre- vent a junction of the two British landing parties, gathered his staff about him and proceeded to Mott's Tavern, which stood near the present intersection of 143rd Street and Eighth Avenue. General Howe, who considered that he was making splendid progress, stopped for refreshment, with some of his officers, at the Murray house, so recently vacated by Washington. In the absence of her husband, the worthy dame Murray proceeded at their bidding to regale her visitors with 'the best in the house'. In the good old days this meant much. Cake and wine soon created a mellow atmosphere of comfort and conviviality which the honest Howe was loath of leave. So long did he linger over the 'cup that cheereth,' that Putnam's refugees secured a start of several miles before he dispatchetl his own dragoons in pursuit. It was then too late to intercept them. Meanwhile, upon this eventful day (and it happened to be the Sabbath, at that) some momentous events were happening in 'downtown' New York. The officers of the British fleet had landed at the Battery and taken formal possession of the city, in the name of the King. And so for seven long years it remained, until the outlawed patriots came again into their own, having — by right of conquest — ■ won "America for the Americans." Early on the morning of September 16th, Washington arrived at Harlem Heights and at once established his headquarters in the Roger Morris house, overlooking the Harlem River. But the emergencies of the day demanded instant attention. Putnam had been quite closely pressed by the enemy, in fact the British, who had come up during the night, were already preparing to attack the advanced American lines near the present 130th to 135th Streets. Fortunate it was that this terrain had been to some degree fortified during the early months of summer. The THE FIGHTING RETREAT 225 wisdom of these preparations was now apparent. With a r(5nsiderable force at his disposal, the protecting works of Port Washington behind him, and being encamped upon a commanding eminence, Washington might, with good rea- son, hope to maintain his ground for a time at least, and to administer a well-deserved check to the over-ambitious mvaders. And this, in advance, is the story of the Battle of Harlem Heights. It was short and decisive. To those of my readers who are familiar with New York City, the following description of the constantly shift- ing movements of the day will be quite clear: Manhattan Street now traverses a diagonal course from 125th Street and Morningi-ide Avenue East to the 130th Street Ferry on . the Hudson River. This natural depression between the heights was known in Revolutionary times as 'The HoUow Way'. On the northerly elevation, near the grounds of the present Convent of the Sacred Heart, were jJosted the advanced American troops under General Greene, when the British moved down into the valley from Riverside Heights (now crowned by the tomb of General U. S. Grant). This initial movement took place near the ponderous Riverside Drive viaduct. To out-flank them, a party of Amer- icans under Major Knovvlton cut across from the extremity of St. Nicholas Park, heading for the 'farm land' now occupied by the extensive buildings and campus of Columbia University. En route ensued the encounter in which Knowlton lost his life. The British, to avoid being cut off, desisted from their original purpose, and gave battle to the Americans in the 'buck-wheat field', to-day the site of Barnard College, (Broadway Boulevard and 120th Street). For some three hours longer the action continued, both sides drawing all available reinforcements. It was, how- ever, more in the nature of a skirmishing fight, for the British were pushed back, slowly but surely, to their own advanced posts at 105th Street. The action ceased at three o'clock in the afternoon. General Washington, at the outset of the battle, rode down to the farthest redoubts to direct operations, and fol- lowed the movements of his troops in the desultory combat across the upland fields. The success of the patriots in this small affair had almost the effect of a notable victory, ani- mating the spirits of the soldiers and doing much to efface the impression of British invincibility engendered by the catastrophe on Long Island. The enemy had lost about a hundred men; the Americans a dozen killed and less than fifty wounded. The death of Knowlton, like that of War- ren at Bunker Hill, was one of the grim tolls of war, another heavy installment paid toward the price of final victory. The British soon drew back their lines to 100th Street, and there proceeded to 'dig in', forming a permanent barrier across the island ; thus acknowledging that they had rather wait a bit before again tackling the hornet's nest. Indeed 226 THE FIGHTING RETREAT :;:t!-"^\'.'?H2iiJ.5u^yi ■ " ? A portion the buildii f Coluni: University showing t Library a ^fv^'il Campus. the wall of Engineerin Building is i bedded a t let commem ating the b tie. The unfin- ished Cathedral of St. John the Divine, Morningside Heights. LANDMARKS ON THE HEIGHTS OP HARLEM, NEW YORK CITY. The battle of September 16th, 1776, was fought, for the most part, on the plateau bounded by Riverside Drive and Morningside Park. Both of the above beautiful arcnitectural gems have been erected on historic ground. General Howe needed no one to tell him that his efforts to trap the Americans on Manhattan had thus far been a failure. The lover of history who has failed to pay a visit to Washington's headquarters on Harlem Heights — the cap- tivating Morris-Jumel mansion — has missed a rare treat. On the entire island of Manhattan, this house alone remains to claim the honor of having sheltered the patriot chieftain. To-day it is hemmed in by populous apartment houses, yet is not entirely overshadowed, for it occupies a little patch of verdant park all its own, and — from its commanding situ- ation upon the bluff which overlooks the Harlem River — still retains its outward air of distinction and preserves an interior atmosphere redolent with purest Americanism. Up under the roof of its stately portico there is a little railed balcony, from which it must have been possible to obtain a magnificent view of the countryside in the days THE FIGHTING RETREAT 227 when broad acres of farmland and pasture stretched away toward the then distant city of New York. We are told that on the night of the 20th of September, the inmates of head- quarters were roused from slumber to see the entire southern sky reddened with flame, and from this vantage point the Commander anxiously contemplated the fearful spectacle. What had happened in New York was revealed upon the following day by a British officier who came up from the city regarding the exchange of prisoners. The greater por- tion of lower Manhattan had indeed been devasted by a wide-sweeping conflagration, which the British erroneously claimed to have been the work of patriot incendiaries. THE MOHltlS-JUMKL MANSION, NEW YORK CITY. Washington's headquarters, West 160th Street and Harlem River In the foreground, beside the gravel path, are the foundations of a small build- ing believed to have been a 'guard house' of the Revolutionary period. Numerous relics, in the shape of buttons, shot, buckles, cutlery, etc., have been unearthed m various parts of the surrounding garden. During the month spent here by Washington, General Howe seems to have relapsed into a laggard routine, devot- ing his energies to Tory recruiting and the issuance of glow- 228 THE FIGHTING RETREAT ing proclamations, while Washington — busily scouting around the wooded heights, gorgeous in their Indian Sum- mer garb — continued to cling to his 'nest' on Morris Heights, so conveniently located either for advance or re- treat. The Morris Mansion is indeed an aristocratic old place. That it has a multitude of claims upon our interest is made evident from a brief outline of its eventful history: In 1776 it had already become famous, having been built in 1767 by Colonel Roger Morris of the British army, he who had fought by the side of Washington in the French War and had later married one of the objects of his admiration, Mary Philipse of Yonkers. Prior to the Revolution it had offered hospitality to nearly all the prominent British statesmen and soldiers in the American colonies, and was one of the most exclusive of the Knickerbocker manors. Colonel Morris decamped during the struggle for independence, and the mansion — after serving in turn the needs of Washington and the Hessian staff officers — changed owners repeatedly dur- ing the 'transition period.' In 1810 it was acquired by Stephen Jumel, a French merchant, and again became the rendezvous for the polite society of New York. Here the gorgeous widow, Madaiu Jumel, was married to Aaron Burr in 1833, and — until her death in 1865 — the great white palace with its stately portico anel luxurious furnishings, was the gathering place for a glittering ensemble of notables — 'foreign and domestic' Small wonder then that the well-informed pilgrim to the mansion is instantly conscious of a nameless, haunting thrill as he crosses the historic threshold. Patriotism and pathos hover at your heels or flit furtively before you as you tiptoe from room to room. Lafayette, Joseph Bonaparte and Prince Louis (afterward Napoleon III of France) have tarried here a little while and gone; Franklin, Fitz-Greene Halleck and General Sherman have — each in their day and age — strolled through the spacious hallway, partaken of earth's good things and passed on to their duties and rewards. But who more than Aaron Burr, that Machiavelli of American politics, offers a tempting character study? The Jumel mansion knew him in his old age, a broken-down and sensuous adventurer, when — by his alliance with the wealthy and vain old lady — he strove to repair his shat- tered fortunes. His checkered career presents all the multi- colored phases of life beloved by the novelist: talent, trick- ery, treason and tribulation. Yet at the time when Wash- ington was doing his utmost to defend New York, this same Aaron Burr, a youth patriotic and untainted, was manfullv THE FIGHTING RETREAT 229 trudging along with the artillery, on more than one occasion ' — by his ready wit — getting them out of tight places and displaying unusual qualifications for leadership. The name of Aaron Burr is inseparably linked with that of Hamilton because of the tragic encounter which brought death to one and dishonor to the other. And it were a pity indeed did not the visitor to the Jumel mansion extend his journey a bit farther and steal a glimpse at the time-honored 'Grange,' the heme of the great P'ederalist. The former abode of Alexander Hamilton has recently been moved bod- ily from its orginal site to a nearby location on Convent Avenue, a block or two from the College of the City of New York. Having suffered but little in transportation, we find it practically as it was in 1804, when its dignified yet sprightly master set out for Wee- hawken to meet an adversary who was determined upon his ruin. Is it not singular that Hamilton also was one of Wash- ington's army dur- ing the summer of 1776? Whether he and Burr were ac- quainted at this time we do not know, but it is cer- tain that both the young officers came under the critical eye of Washington during the campaign on Harlem Heights. Hamilton rapidly rose in favor with the Connnander, but the keenly penetrating mind of Washington seems never to ■HAMILTON GRAXGK' in its new location home of Alexander Hamilton, on Convent Avenue, York Cit.v, preserved as a memorial to the 'great Federalist' New 230 THE FIGHTING RETREAT have placed implicit trust in Burr, for we find no evidence of intimacy between them either during the war or after- ward. Aaron Burr reached great heights and sank, perhaps, to greater depths, — which is characteristic of his type of unstable genius — -notwithstanding, he was a man of wonder- ful personalty and force. Standing before 'Hamilton Grange' and realizing its proximity to the home of Madam Jumel, one is prone to wonder whether Burr, out for an airing in madame's fabled coach of gold and yellow, was not loath to pass the portal of his fallen enemy, and whether he did not, more than once, bid the liveried coachman fol- low the river road! I shall make no apologies for my digressions; who could or would do otherwise? Yet for the sake of continuity, I must lead you back again to 'headquarters', for as such, purely and simply, Washington was forced by circumstances to regard the Morris House. In those weeks following the battle of Harlem Heights, he was kept busy trying by fair means and foul to 'keep tab' on the doings of the enemy, fearing more from a flank movement from Long Island through Westchester than from a direct attack from New York City. It was at this juncture that there occurred the well known tragedy of Nathan Hale. Among the names of Revolutionary patriots, none has been more justly honored than that of this ardent young Connecticut schoolmaster-captain, who willingly sacrificed himself for the cause of liberty and whose only regret in dying was this: that he had "but one life to lose" for his country. It was from the Morris house that Hale was dis- patched, at the suggestion of Colonel Magaw, upon the dangerous mission to the British camp. Through a door- way leading to the cellar, long since plastered over (so we are told) the volunteer spy took his way as he left the presence of Washington, departing with so much secrecy that not even the sentries at the entrance door were aware of his going. All went well with Captain Hale at the outset. THE FIGHTING RETREAT ■ 231 He made a landing somewhere near Huntington, Long Island, secured the information he sought and succeeded in passing beyond the British lines. But, hailing by mistake a boat manned by men from an enemy's guard ship, he was captured, tried — after a fashion, — and hung without ceremony in New York City. The place of his martyrdom has been localized at 45th Street and First Avenue, but his monu- ment now adorns the historic City Hall Square downtown, where, I conjecture, half a mil- lion people pass it every day. His last words express the most noble sentiment ever voiced by an American. During the World War, a brick obelisk was hurriedly erected opposite the Hale statue, each brick repre- senting a $50.00 bond-subscrip- tion to the Fourth Liberty Loan. The death of Nathan Hale and the successful consumma- tion of our 'over-seas campaign' are epoch-making events sep- arated by the valiant deeds of a century and a half. Yet, viewed side by side, these episodes well exemplify the great truth that the spirit of a free people, whose motto is truth and justice, can never change nor deteriorate. There are those who tell us that history repeats itself; that as Greece, and Rome, and Spain, and the Germanic Confederation have fallen in turn, so — at some distant day — will the American Republic be humbled in the dust. While these facts give 'NATHAN HALE' The strikingly beautiful statue in City Hall Park," New York City, com- memorating the foremost martyr of the American Revolution. 232 THE FIGHTING RETREAT food for most profound thought, we may be assured that just so long as we use our inestimable national power with "honesty, decency and courage," (as Roosevelt used to ex- press it ) the great American Commonwealth for which Hale died, patriots fought, and loyal citizens have lived and labored, can never perish from the earth . The news of Hale's fate came to Washington ; followed very soon by tidings to the effect that the enemy had already landed at Throg's Neck on the northern shore of the Sound, had been met and repulsed by a detachment of Americans, but were evidently preparing to repeat this attempt in force. Thereupon the Commander-in-chief, after reconnoitering the British position, gathered his officers together in the spacious 'council ro( m' at the Morris House to make the great decision as to abandonment of Manhattan Island. A year ago, upon a raw and windy November afternoon, my companion and myself sat in the same commodious, octagonal chamber on the ground floor of the mansion. The white-paneled room, with its broad window-seats, old-fash- ioned mahogany furniture and rag rugs — partially conceal- ing the wide-boarded floor — was warm and comfortable, the bright paper upon the walls seeming to invite us to make ourselves at home and stay awhile. Outside, the doleful wind sighed among the trees, a swinging vine ever and anon tapping fretfully against a square-paned window. We were alone. My friend leaned forward and half whispered the query, "what is there about this room that 'gets you' ?" Had I been an authority on psychic phenomena I might have given an intelligent answer. But possessing no mediumistic powers, I endeavored to explain that it was the association of ideas, that we — transients of a day — pictured ourselves in the presence of 'Washington in Council' and involuntarily became a part of that celebrated group of notables. How perfectly natural, too, to fill the chairs with uniformed figures in blue and homespun-buff: W^ashington, with one knee thrown across the other and hands folded THE FIGHTING RETREAT 233 upon the ivory hilt of his sword, resting — cane fashion — upon the floor. Here also is Greene, still wan from illness; Charles Lee, back from the South and itching for more renown ; Putnam, stout and puffing; Knox, gazing abstractedly into the fire; Wayne, fussy and irritable; Reed, the resourceful Philadelphia lawyer; Glover, sunburned and brawny; and Colonel Harrison, the 'old secretary,' adjusting his spectacles preparatory to a deliberate reading of the dispatches. Surely --«.«^ V;?^-- ■-'-■■--' ■•' — "^^ ^tisam^ieaant THROG'S NECK, WESTCHESTER CO., N. Y. The scene of the first British landing prior to the Battle of White Plains. On this ground they were repulsed b.v the Americans. The buildings illustrated comprise the barracks, storehouses and defenses of modern Fort Schuyler the councils at the Morris House would have merited all the descriptive powers of a clever military correspondent , but — unfortunately — there was in those days no versatile Richard Harding Davis to 'cover' the proceedings. I visited Westchester County not long ago and tramped out to Throg's Neck in order properly to understand the situation which confronted the American leaders at this critical juncture. The estuaries of Long Island Sound cut deeply into the northern shore line, and from the Harlem River all the way to Rhode Island there were hundreds of ideal landing places from which the enemy might select in planning a flanking enterprise. The modern Fort Schuyler occupies the end of the historic Throg's Neck peninsula, and — with its Long Island companion, Fort Totten — defends the Sound at its narrowest point. It was where Fort 234 THE FIGHTING RETREAT Schuyler now stands that, on October 12th, 1776, the Brit- ish made their initial attempt to gain lodgment in West- chester. Nothing within the limits of the fort is reminiscent of Revolutionary times, the existing batteries of heavy coast artillery being modern developments of earlier defences erected as a Civil War precaution. The narrow causeway or land approach to the present fortification was the scene of the cleverly officered and spirited skirmish which checked the advance of the first British landing parties and convinced them that it were better to try again at some spot less stoutly defended. Hence it came about that several days elapsed before they did actually gain a foothold on the mainland. UL1> JIAKN, THKOG S NKCK. AVEST(_ HKSTKK Not until the 18th did Howe withdraw his 4000 troops from Throg's Neck and make the successful landing at Pell's Point on the Hutchinson River, near the present Pelham Bay Park, known so well to the boys of our 'war navy' as a training place for 'rookies'. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 235 I must say that the Throg's Neck section of West- Chester is delightfully unchanged, remaining an open rural countryside with the azure indentations of the Sound seen to the right and left. The old Havemeyer House, a half- mile from the point — with its quarter-circle attic windows and spooky vacancy — suggest the days of Whig and Tory, while its ruined out-buildings afford opportunities for artis- tic picture-taking which one is loath to miss. The roadway along the 'neck', running to Westchester village and the heart of the Bronx, is the original highway of Colonial times, connecting with the Boston Post Road near modern Bronx Park. The author experiences but one regret while indulging in these historic rambles, and that is the fact that those for whom he Writes — living perhaps in the new America, the Dakotas, Texas or Oregon, — have not the privilege of study- ing history at first hand, which can only come through actual contact with these storied regions, but which ought to be shared by every American rather than monopolized by the dwellers in the 'effete East'. It was agreed by the officers in council at the Morris House, that it was imperative to display a front to the flank- ing Britishers, yet likewise inexpedient to abandon the posi- tion on the Heights of Harlem. So Colonel Magaw was left at Fort Washington, (to 'stick to the finish,' as it proved). Greene was placed in charge of Fort Lee on the Jersey palisades, and Washington, withdrawing the main body of the army into Westchester County, stretched them along the thirteen mile ridge of hills skirting the little Bronx River, and well to the windward of the British, whose well-disposed lines extended in the same general direction from New Rochelle to Mamaroneck. On the 21st of October Washington left the Morris House, and on the 23rd we find him at White Plains. Realizing that an engagement was pending, both antagonists skirmished for position, Wash- ington pulled in his lines toward White Plains on the 26th, 236 THE FIGHTING RETREAT and — intrenching himself on the lower reaches of the hills to the north and west of the present town, — awaited the enemy's attack. THK I'.KONX RIVER AT WHITE PLAINS The traveler, following the windings of this little stream as he journeys from New York by rail, cannot fail to understand Washington's motives in occupying the chain of hills which flank it on the west from the Harlem River to White Plains. October 28th, 1776, is the historic date in the chronicles of this region. On that day, Washington, reinforced by Lee, met the assault of the enemy. The British concentrated their first effort upon the outlying Chatterton's Hill and carried it by storm after a stubborn fight, but the enter- prise consumed the better part of a day and, as was the case at Long Island, they desisted from their labors until the morrow. Again that morrow proved unfavorable; rain fell in torrents, and the patriots gained time for a further strengthening of their works. Bad weather continued; the British were still thinking it over on the 31st. Then, during the night. Washington resorted to his favorite trick, and quietly stole away to the heights of North Castle, five miles to the north, losing nothing by the movement but greatly disgusting the British 'general staff', to whom the prospect THE FIGHTING RETREAT 237 of staging another indecisive fight was rather tiresome. Evidently they made up their minds that a further pursuit was useless, for they abandoned the neighborhood of White Plains on November 4th. Striking their tents, they marched overland to Dobb's Ferry on the Hudson, where — by a formidable concentration of troops — they soon had Wash* ington speculating once more as to their next objective. Illustrative of the struggle in Westchester, there is much in and about White Plains of lively interest. Yet. to follow the drift of events in 1776, we must divorce ourselves from 'i . ^'^^s^ the m o d e r n THE MONUMENT ON CHATTERTON'S HILL. WHITE PLAINS. This was the summit of the American position which the British carried by storm, Oct. 28th. 1776. town — wliich has grown remarkably — and remember that in those days the houses hereabout were few and far between, and that Chatterton's Hill, directly opposite the railway station and now covered with prosperous looking residences, was then merely a barren summit, and an ideal battleground for defensive purposes. The upward climb, now made easy by improved roads, must have been an unpleasant ordeal for the troops of Rahl and Leslie, galled 238 THE FIGHTING RETREAT as they were by the fire of the patriots. We cannot but admire their 'grit' and acknowledge that the carrying of so formidable a position was a noteworthy and unusual achievement. There is a monument on the summit of the hill, com- memorative of the battle; a somehwat frail pedestal of granite — narrating the story of the assault — which is surmounted by a slender deck gun from the battleship 'Maine'. By its side is a tall flag-staff surrounded by a pile f heavy calibre cannon balls picked up in the vicinity. 1 am safe in saying that very few cas- ual visitors to White Plains have trudged up to this ^1 , ON THE ROAD TO WASHINGTON'S HKADQUA RTRKi spot upon the crest white plains, n. y. r iU U "n V, This is the identical iron mortar, of which a sketch may be fov 01 trie nnl, nor nave Lossing's "Revolutionary Field Book." Mounted upon a rough . granite base, it now marks the site of the Am they known of its existence. 'rearguard llnes' after the battle of White I'l The same may be said regarding another interesting site in the opposite end of the town, where one of the ancient intrenchments may still be seen. This is located on the south side of Broadway, a purely residential sec- tion of White plains, and is marked by a rough-hewn block of stone supporting an ancient iron mortar found nearby. This was one of the advanced positions of the American outposts after the initial engagement on Chatterton's Hill, when they lay awaiting the further movements of the British. Besides the heavy howitzer, there is a bronze THE FIGHTING RETREAT 239 tablet which by its inscription strives to impress the reader with the fact that Sir Wilham Howe — checked in his con- templated annihilation of Washington's army, — made no further attempts in this direction. This site, upon the ancient highway, (the Port Chester road,) is one of the most interesting milestones in the long course of the 'fight- ing retreat.' Washington's headquarters during the greater part of his operations in Westchester was located at what is now North White Plains, a mile and more beyond the above mentioned redoubt. The humble cottage then occu- pied by Andrew and Elizabeth Miller was a well chosen retreat, for it occupied a secluded position in a charming "NEAR TO NATURE'S HEART" Not the tree (as the sign might seem to indicate) but a cottage near at hand was Washington's Headquarters. little dell, contiguous to the main highway running north and south, and behind it was an open 'get away' to the region of the Hudson in the event of unforeseen develop- ments. The modern tourist approaching from White Plains is guided by a sign nailed to the famous old oak tree before an ancient crossroads inn. The inn is 'dry' and the tree 240 THE FIGHTING RETREAT WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT WHITE PLAINS, N. Y. Benson J. Lossing, in his 'Field Book' of seventy years ago, presen ts an easily recognizable sketch of this old house. Even the big tree which to-day spreads its branches over the ancient roof is clearly shown. is dead: time having gnawed a great hollow in its sturdy heart after a century and a half of beauty and service. Without question it existed in Washington's day, and even in its present state of decay it serves as a fitting adjunct to the little cottage in the wildwood 'handy by'. Not until very recently did the Miller House become state property, yet through all these years of private owner- ship it has changed but little. Here, from October 23rd to the 10th of November (1776) the Commander tarried; and the fact that he returned again in the summer of 1778 — after the battle of Monmouth — and remained from July 20th to Sept. 22nd, besides a final sojourn in 1781 (while dickering with the French allies), surely speaks well for the Millers and their brand of patriotism. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 241 Strange, but true, the White Plams Headquarters has not been widely exploited, and in seeking it out one natur- ally feels that he has done something essentially praise- worthy and patriotic. You will certainly be deeply im- pressed by the simplicity of the little frame cottage, and its seclusion and pleasingly-evident lack of 'restoration' make it doubly attractive. As to the historic Bronx River, you will find it noth- ing more than an unostentatious little brook meandering tranquilly through the countryside and humbly preserving its equanimity except where, impounded upon one or other of the palatial estates at Scarsdale or Hartsdale, it has been spoiled by the luxury of its modern surroundings and per- suaded to splash noisily over a few artificial cataracts. With the withdrawal of the British to Dobb's Ferry, Washington again bestirred himself and hastened to face the uncertain issues of a new emergency. While deploring the very evident plight of Magaw on the Heights of Harlem, ( for the British had effectually placed themselves between Fort Washington and the main American Army ) Washington dared not forget the possibil- ity of a still more critical situation which might arise were the British to divert a portion of their troops into New Jersey and 'steal a march on him' in the direction of Phil- adelphia. With that city as well as New York in their possession, the enemy might well consider their work of subjugation more than half done. Washington dreaded such a contingency and did all he could to avoid it, yet he was to witness this very situation a year hence, — in spite of which the patriot cause lived on. In 1776 however, the Commander could not foresee the worst, and was ever on the alert to forestall any schemes to this end which might be lurking beneath the powder-sprinkled wig of Lord Howe. So early as the 9th of November, we find Washington in communication with Jersey's governor, and making pre- 242 THE FIGHTING RETREAT paratory movements of troops across the Hudson from Peekskill to Stony Point by way of King's Ferry. Upon the following day he himself left North Castle, bidding fare- well to the ambitious Lee, with whom he left a command amply sufficient to protect the Highlands, with the admoni- tion to carry the troops into New Jersey without delay should the Brit- ish decide to press the cam- paign in that 'sector'. Two more days were spent by the Commander i n reconnoitering the river positions with the trust- worthy Heath, into whose hands he confided the final keeping of the great river and its defenses should it be nec- essary for Lee to move southward. Then, riding down the west shore, he arrived at Fort Lee on the 13th, where — to his great chagrin — he learned that the Fort Washington garrison hi ' not only failed to evacuate before the meshes had closed around them, but had drawn heavy reinforce- ments from the Jersey side, so that now over twenty-five hundred men ivere in a fair way to be trapped. Yet Gen- eral Greene persisted in his optimism. Nevertheless Wash- ington, in anticipation of the retreat which he was con- vinced must shortly be undertaken, rode over the meadows of New Jersey to the town of Hackensack, in order to 'get the lay of the land' in his rear. Looking across the Hudson, from Fort Lee. N. J., tow. site of Fort Washington, New York City. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 243 Did the defenders of Fort Washington really have a chance of beating off their besiegers? No, they did not; but I am of the (jpinion that they felt over-confident of their position because of the unsuccessful attack which the enemy had made by land and water on the 27th of October. While Washington was busily engaged at White Plains, the defenders of Manhattan Heights had, with the help of the batteries of Fort Lee, managed to parry the first assault, and — having beaten off the enemy — they lingered in false security until the odds against them became fatally overwhelm- ing. No one who has visited the site of Fort Washington can doubt the strength of the posi- tion. The underlying strata of rock which forms the backbone of Manhattan Island here crops to the surface, and for a mile or more rises in a rugged plateau, flanked on three sides by most difficult approaches. Like Jeru- salem, the place offered great de- fensive possibilities, its rocky and wooded slopes affording natural barriers upon all sides save the south — that facing the lower portion of the island. With ten thousand men and two hundred cannon to protect its outer works. Fort W^ashington could have withstood everything but famine. As it was, its great extent proved its ruin. The many avenues of approach, inadequately defended, yielded to superior numbers, and the inner fortifications, — merely earthworks thrown up on the summit of the hill — FORT WASHINGTON MONUMENT, Bennett Estate, New York City (Photo by Joseph C. Davidson) 244 THE FIGHTING RETREAT H^m^^^Bh^^wEMKdSE^^V^^ ^%/3 .^-:.%:-^" rcr^'i 'K-*m •»•■ . . w ' ,. ' v'.;v"'s?^i?'.i-'V , ■'•-?-. ^ --p^ l^ ]:-::^ 31^' ■■ " \' ■■■^■fejk^^*m»4^''H'- N ■■ <;,u LjjbiA ti* ~''^^^'^18PIW'^'(i ^^m 7-, .^vnv^, ,v.r'; Remains of earthwork rifle-redoubt, PORT WASHINGTON PARK, New York City. (Photo by Joseph C. Davidson). were quite easily surrounded and rendered ineffective once the outlying defenders had been driven in. Early in November the Hessian general, Knyphausen, had commenced operations by cutting off the means of egress to the north ; on the 14th Howe had crossed the Harlem River from Fordham Heights in Westchester, while from New York City another force had advanced men- acingly near the weakest side of the American position. No attempt was made by the besiegers to assail the works from the side of the Hudson, where the defenses approached close to the river, and upon that side, had they moved in time, the Americans could have made a dignified exit. Instead, they put up a stiff fight to their assailants along the great arc of outer positions, only giving ground after desperate resistance. But slowly and surely they were forced into their last lines on the brow of the hill and on the 15th of November came a first summons to surrender which was rejected. That evening, at nightfall, Washington rejoined the garrison at Fort Lee, after his reconnaissance in Bergen County, and was apprized of the critical situ- ation across the river. Determining at last to take a hand in the proceedings, he is said to have hastily embarked for the New York shore, but encountering Greene and Putnam THE FIGHTING RETREAT 245 in midstream, to have been persuaded to return to Jersey after a brief consultation. I do not understand why he did not attempt to draw off at least a portion of the Fort Wash- ington garrison that night, for it seems that communications were still open. The next morning, after the final attack had been launched by the enemy, he sent a message to Golonel Magaw offering to assist should flight be attempted, but it was then too late. From the brow of the Palisades, whose rocky bulwarks echoed and re-echoed to the thunder of cannon and the crack of musketry, Washington witnessed, through rifts in the smoke, the progress of the last struggle, realizing that nothing short of a miracle could save the patriot cause from another crushing disaster. Had he been on the scene in person, he would have witnessed the spectacle of a hand-to- hand encounter, with the gallant combatants of both armies grappling in a life and death struggle. Time and time again the attacking forces were driven back, only to renew the assault with the courage of desperation. At last, when two thousand Americans had been driven into their inner trenches and further resistance was evident folly, the flag of the patriots slid limply down the staff to be replaced by the triumphant ensign of Great Britain. From his post of observation, Washington saw the outcofne of the contest and realized full well the import of the disaster. In fact, during the entire period of the Revolution, no engagement was so costly to the patriot cause. At Fort Washington almost a third of the fighting force of the colonies was lost. The scene of this historic engagement is well worth a visit and is easily accessible from any point in New York City, although it is still away up town. Fort Washington Park is a public reservation between Riverside Drive and the Hudson, as yet in an unimproved state and one of the few remaining spots in the great metropolis where you may encounter the old fashioned picnic parties, and clamber over rocks and through green fields without restraint or -246 THE FIGHTING RETREAT "Keep-off-the-Grass" warnings. In the old days, before the advent of the numerous electric railways, the little Fort Washington station of the N. Y. Central railroad near 173rd Street was a stopping place of some importance, not merely for the occasional visitor to the 'fort,' but for the Harlemites who dwelt nearby. But now the poor old depot has been abandoned and its doors and windows are boarded up, for the line has been entirely given over to freight traffic. The 'park' is a great resort for idlers, very few of whom appear to appreciate the significance of the surroundings. On the occasion of my first visit I was somewhat amused by the spectacle of a meditative old gentleman seated upon the porch of the shelter house absorbed in the plot of a Laura Jean Libby novel, solaced by a corn-cob pipe and edified by the company of a gray tabby-cat, peacefully sleeping Upon his knees. While the most interesting portion rf this historic ground is compassed within the municipal reservation, the spot best known to New Yorkers is that upon the higher ridge much nearer the Harlem River, where some scant traces of the inner lines of intrenchments may still be de- tected. Above 181st Street, Fort Washington Avenue tra- verses the brow of the hill running north and south, and here, upon the estate of the late James Gordon Bennett of New York Herald fame, has been erected a very effective monument. This interesting landmark has been built against the cliff at the side of the road, where all who pass inay read Upon its inscribed tablet the record of Revolution- ary heroism. It is surmounted by a formidable looking cannon, and at its base is a wide marble seat where the Stroller, en route to the northern end of Manhattan and Kingsbridge, may pause and rest awhile. Surprising as it may seem, this memorial narrowly escaped destruction when, a few months ago, the Bennett estate was auctioned off piecemeal. Had it not been for the timely intervention of seme history-loving citizens, this plot would THE FIGHTING RETREA I 247 have been sold, with its companions, for building purposes. As it is, the site in its entirety is ruined, and all the hilltop where the patriot garrison made its final stand will soon be desecrated by modern apartments. During the lifetime of the elder Bennett, whose mansion occupied the spot, such . -""'"^ ■•■*-. ■rm 1 f : 1 \ ^ ^^ i -~- . I- JK~-" • — < JEFFREYS HOOK, FORT WASHINGTON, and one of the historic iron rings used in the fai-ttning of the first river obstruction between this point and Fort Lee, opposite — 1776. commercialism was undreamed of. Up to the present, how- ever, the property has not been greatly disturbed, and for a little while longer we may enjoy its unspoiled simplicity. This upper section of Fort Washington is not so very far from the Alorris- Jumel mansion and it is easy to take in both localities within the limits of a long afternoon. Combined with a detour down to the banks of the Hudson, the excursion will prove a most comprehensive lesson in Revolutionary history. First of all, the student will gain an adequate conception of the events during the summer and fall of 1776, and will see for himself the vast extent of 248 THE FIGHTING RETREAT territory covered by the military operations of that period. He will find no books upon the subject half so enlightening as this bit of personal investigation. After viewing the hill and its rough approaches — even after the lapse of a cen- tury and a half — he will scarcely censure General Greene for believing the fort to be impregnable. Even the British historians admit that their troops and the supporting Hes- sians had a tough time of it before they succeeded in corner- ing the defenders. The main redoubt which commanded the Hudson River, or — as some have called it — the 'rifle-pit', lies about half way down the slope, and is within the area of the 'park'. It is the only earthwork remaining which is in a good state of preservation to-day, and it was, perhaps, the strongest of the outlying positions. This intrenchment was not carried by the direct-assault of the enemy, for the brunt of their attack fell upon the northern and easterly approaches to the hill. That there may be no mistaking this historic trench, the Daughters of the Revolution have set up a flag-staff and a conspicuous marker, the latter consisting merely of a large field-stone placed on end, Druid fashion, with the inscription "American Redoubt, — 1776" chiseled boldy upon its uneven contour. To my knowledge this is the only instance where so simple an expedient has been employed to serve a similar purpose. Down on the bank of the Hudson is Jeffrey's Hook, a little promintory of rock behind which, in those eventful summer days, a one-gun lunette was constructed. Between this point and the Jersey side of the river near Fort Lee, the first make-shift obstruction of the channel had been attempted. A lighthouse has now been erected upon the little reef, but just behind it are the remains of the artificial bank of earth piled up in 1776 to protect the gunners, while if you will examine the rocks themselves you will find dozens THE FIGHTING RETREAT 249 of drill-holes and several of the iron rings and bolts to which the ineffectual chevaux-de-frise was anchored; all of which serve to substantiate history's interesting narra- tive. I have visited Jeffrey's Hook half a dozen times and on each occasion I seem to be repaid by some interesting experience. One sum- mer afternoon I watched an artist at work, with some of the juvenile bathers for his models; at another time — in mid-winter, I had the pleasure of viewing the great At- lantic fleet of Vlread- naughts' lying in the river after their return from the war zone. It was New Year's Day, a cold drizzling rain was falling and the Hudson was overhung with a , THK REDOUBT MONUMENT — ^FORT WASHINGTON heavy bank Ot log (Photo by Joseph C. DavicUon) through which the outlines of the battleships loomed dim and spectral. From the point of the hook, off which the northern- most of the flotilla lay half enshrouded in the mist, the long line extended down the river to the beginning of Riv- erside Drive — a distance of five miles; an impressive spec- tacle of American naval power. As I stood by the light- house I fervently wished that Washington could come back from the spirit realm and see with mortal vision a sight far greater than ever he had pictured through the eyes of faith, Washington hoped much for the future of America, even in dark moments like that when Fort Washington fell, 250 THE FIGHTING RETREAT yet I do not believe his expectations went farther than the dream of a peaceful and prosperous community — stretching from the sea to the Mississippi — which should be an exam- ple of good government to the rest of humanity. That America should one day redeem the world was beyond his most sanguine aspirations. Yet these very ships, lying with- m gunshot of ill-fated Fort Washington, had proven the deciding factor in that same noble process of redemption ! The fall of Fort Washington, following within three short months upon the disastrous battle of Long Island, placed the American army in a precarious situation. Man- hattan Island was now irretrievably lost, and General Washington foresaw that very shortly he must move into the interior of New Jersey if he would save the remnant of his forces from destruction. With this object in mind, he began to transfer his stores and ammunition to a place of safety. Four days had thus been consumed, when tid- ings came to the effect that 60C0 troops under Cornwallis had crossed the Hudson from Yonkers and had landed on the Jersey shore in the neighborhood of Closter; further- more, that they were marching rapidly in the direction of Fort Lee, with the evident intention of out-flanking the' Araercan position and cutting off the retreat of the garrison. Alay we once more deviate from the prosaic historic narrative, and visit for ourselves the unfamiliar section of the western bank of the Hudson, where the British began their famous chase after Washington? The precise locality is known to-day as Alpine Landing; but is referred to in most old books as 'Gloster Dock'. A narrow strip of low- lying shore here skirts the rugged precipices of the Pali- sades, to the summit of which the ascent may be made by a winding trail, shaded by luxuriant trees. The ferry to Yonkers, on the New York shore, carries passengers, but no vehicles, and it is the pedestrian, pure and simple, who may enjoy the climb to the heights along the path seldom if ever (disturbed by horse and wagon. T'p to a few years THE FlCiHTING RETREAT S51 ixgo, there were those who feared that m time to come the beauties of the Palisades would be destroyed by the stone tcrusher, the wood-cutter and the builder of factories, but of this dire possibility there is now little chance, for the -beautiful 'Inter-state Park' which begins just at this historic point and extends for many miles up the river, has the sovereign guarantee of both New Jersey and New York that it shall remain forever a natural reservation of scenic loveliness. The descent of the Palisades at this point is almost as fatiguing as the climb, for the declivity is quite :sharp in places. Should you happen to lose your footing and stumble, the probability is that you would go rolling down the slope with more grace than elegance. Even though you keep your feet, the pulling force of gravity along this rugged trail is really surprising. Nevertheless, I enjoin you to visit Alpine, where — in the fall of the year, especially — you will see nature at her best. Gorgeously clotherl in orange and red, every tree seems to be tempting the fleeting season of Indian summer to tarry yet a little longer. The squeaking little chipmunk, however, realizes full well that winter is at hand; and his Irantic haste as he darts around among the mountain laurel seeking for more chestnuts for his already well-stocked larder, will do your soul a world of good and make you smile, whether you will or no, in the sheer delight of beholding his bustling and tireless energy. Down by the water's edge remains an ancient dwelling known as "Cornwallis' Lodge,'' in which that ubiquitous nobleman spent his first night in New Jersey, following the landing of his command. Well preserved by repeated appli- cations of whitewash within and without, its roof and trim^ "mings painted a dark green, it reminds one rather of a rural post-office and general store than an historic landmark. Although closed to the public, its doors and windows are opened sufficiently to give a satisfactory idea of the interior layoat. Besides this old house, the ferry-shed and a refresh- 252 THE FIGHTING RETREAT ment pavilion, there are no other buildings at the landing, the Alpine village of to-day being perched atop the bluff. Whatever else may be said of the Cornwallis House, it surely has witnessed some remarkable events; having been a silent observer of every one of those historic episodes, tragedies, pageants and commercial triumphs which have immortalized the great river. Some twenty years ago the building had a, narrow escape from utter de- struction when a ponderous frag- ment of rock came crashing d o w n from the mountain above. To-day the boulder lies where it fell, perhaps twenty-five feet distant from its southeast corner ; rather a 'close call', it w o u 1 d seem, for the venerable cliffside cottage. The 20th of November it was, in 1776, when Cornwal- lis, well satisfied with himself and the world as a whole, contrived to get his troops up the rocks and started for Fort Lee with really commendable secrecy and dispatch. Washington was at Hackensack, and General Greene, warned of his danger, began breaking camp with all speed, for it was again evident that the rapidly advancing British had the best of the situation, leaving no alternative for the patriots but instant flight. This hasty abandonment of Fort Lee cost the Americans the loss of tents, provisions and a eoK.WVALLl.S' lll-;AJ)yLAUTi;i;S AT .M>1'IXK. N. J. witli the boulder that marly wrought its ruination. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 253 great quantity of supplies, with practically all the heavy guns of the stationary batteries. Washington made no attempt to throw himself into the position and put up a defense. To cover the retreat of the garrison and to get them safely across the Overpeck Creek and the Hackensack River was as much as he could hope to accomplish. This indeed was a task of no small magni- tude, for these streams, running through miles of 'salt meadow' and a waste of tidal marsh-land with banks of treacherous quagmire, are — even to this day — rather fright- ful barriers. With boats at a premium, and the few roads and fewer bridges choked with men and wagons, the march of the retiring Americans must have been a miserable ordeal. But it stands to reason that the situation of the pursuing British was in nowise more enviable. Having been cheated of their prey by a few hours, it was their unhappy lot to plod on in hot pursuit over roads left much the worse for wear, with not a boat of any character — as you may well imagine — left for their convenience by the fleeing army of Congress. The region of all these retrograde movements is con- tiguous to New York City and easily reached by the tourist from the metropolis. Of Fort Lee itself, scarce a vestige remains. Historians claim that its position lay some dis- tance back from the river, the batteries which were mounted on the Palisades being merely out-lying works. In that case, Fort Lee could have been little more than a fortified encampment. In support of this theory, some of the older residents of the village (which lies back of the cliffs) claim to have seen the remains of soldiers' ovens cut in the rocks which crop out here and there throughout the town. Upon the conspicuous point of rock overlooking the present Fort Lee ferry we may distinguish some old masonry, half overgrown with weeds and sumac. Here, it is conjectured, one or two guns Wi^re mounted; and very likely Washington stood somewhere near this coigne of 254 THE FIGPITING RETREAT vantage, a helpless spectator, during the attack on the fort — named in his honor — upon the opposite shore of the river. In the village of Fort Lee there is a rather interesting monu- ment dedicated to the soldiers of the Revolution, to which there has recently been appended a bronze plaque commemor- ating the name of one of the local boys who fell 'in Flanders' fields.' The night view of New York, which may be obtained from the crest of the Jersey Palisades, is one long to be re- membered. When darkness has fallen, the majestic Hudson be- comes a great gulf of blackness, beyond which — as far as eye can see — gleam the twinkling lights of the phantom, fairy city. Tru- ly the spectacle is of iiuch sur- passing beauty that no rambler who spends an afternoon at thk fort lep: monumkkt Fort Lee can afford to miss it. Bring with you, then, a suf- ficiency of eatables, build yourself a little camp-fire as even- ing approaches, roast a few 'spuds' among the embers. Then, solaced by your faithful brier pipe — satisfied in body and contented in mind — you may await the vision beautiful. Your own little fire will flicker and die out; the golden radiance of passing day will fade from the western sky before the fast creeping shadows of night; but yonder great and mighty city — like an allegorical picture of the existence for which we hope "beyond the river"— springs, as at the touch of an unseen hand, into radiance and activity. An electric line now runs from Fort Lee to Hacken- sack, spanning the uncompromising bogs by means of slen- der trestles. The western slopes of the Palisades are fast THE FIGHTING RETREAT 255 'building up', and may almost be considered as bits of suburban New York ; but Hackensack, true to its traditions, remains a genuine 'Jersey Dutch' town, its main street stretching along the river for two miles — much the same as when laid out by its stalwart pioneers. The Hackensack River has always been navigable, and to accommodate the ocean-going tug-boats ( which have succeeded the picturesque 'wind-jammers' of early days) there is a series of fine draw- bridges, over which pass all the modern highways and rail- roads entering Hudson County from Bergen and Essex. There has been a wide divergence of opinion as to where Washington crossed the Hackensack. Some histor- ians maintain that it was away up- stream at River Edge, others that it was as far down as Little Ferry. Mr. Burton H. Allbee, for many years a leading spirit in the Ber- gen County His- torical Society, has made this matter a subject of special study, and it is upon his authority that I state the fact, without fear of contradiction, that the main body of the Continental Army passed over the river by way of the so-called 'New Bridge',* into what is now North Hackensack, thence marching into the ancient Hack- ensack village by the long main street. There can be little doubt that the army moved westward • from Fort Lee along the much-traveled highway which passes through the mod- ern town of Leonia, but here — I conjecture — the columns 'WASHINGTON PASSED THIS WAY' Th<" bronze tablet before the Presbyterian Church Leonia, N^ J., on the route of Washington's line of retreat to Hackensack in 1776. * Thomas Paine, in his account of the retreat from Port Lee, particularly men- tions that the Hackensack was crossed at the 'new bridge'. 256 THE FIGHTING RETREAT divided. Some, without question, took the southerly route and were conveyed across the Hackensack by every avail- able boat to be had at Little Ferry; others, quite likely, journeyed as far to the north as the 'old bridge', passing over the river at what is now River Edge. But it was the then 'new bridge', only three miles above Hackensack town, which offered the most logical and convenient place of cross- ing for the majority of the retreating garrison of Fort Lee. Below this point, a passage by boat would have been the only alternative. It would appear that Washington gave some thought to the possibility of maintaining a successful stand at the North Hackensack bridge-head, but he seems to have promptly abandoned the idea. Had he hoped for a brief respite after the hasty flight from Fort Lee, he was doomed to disappointment, for the British — having gotten the patriots 'on the run' — were not disposed to give them breathing time. So ardently did they keep up the pursuit that the Americans,— having passed over the river late in the afternoon of the 20th of November in a cold and drizz- ling rain — beheld, from their bivouac in Hackensack town, the blazing fires of the Hessians encamped upon the farther shore. From available records, we gather that Washington's army had, at this time, dwindled down to a scant three thousand; hence his reluctance to hazard the chances of a pitched battle. We are not surprised, therefore, when we read of his dispatching the remnants of his supplies to Acquackanonk f Passaic) and making speedy preparations to once again 'hit the trail' with the meagre force at his command. The historic sites in Hackensack are closely grouped: the Mansion House Tavern (formerly the Zabriskie resi- dence), where Washington stopped, the time-honored Dutch Reformed Church, the grave of General Enoch Poor, and the monument recently erected in his honor upon the village green, where, it is generally supposed, the American Army THE FIGHTING RETREAT 257 bivouacked after their weary entry into the village, into which they had come — as described by an eye-witness — "marching two abreast, ragged, some without a shoe to their feet, and most of them wrapped in their blankets." Washington, with his Life Guard, a regiment of foot, and a few cavalrymen, lingered in the town until the fol- lowing day ; riding along the river side, before his departure, to view the encampment of the enemy upon the opposite shore. Even as he watched, word came from up-stream, that they were making preparations to repair the bridge which the Americans had disabled. Quite frequently, on warm summer evenings, I have ridden over from Paterson to Hack- ensack to stand be- side the river, usually accompan- ied by one of my historically- inclined friends. The illuminated- windows of Bogota upon the opposite shore create an im- pression not unlike that of the Hessian camp-fires seen so clearly by the anxious eyes of Washington. This is one of the places, where as we follow in his footsteps, we come close to the heart of our great Revolutionary leader. The silence of the night, the swift and broad river with a flowing tide, the star-sprinkled sky above, and the phantom figure — wrapped in a great-coat — which is wont to appear beside us, (seemingly summoned from the spirit-world at our bidding and gazing fixedly into the darkness) impart a thrill — nay, an all-absorbing psychic spell — from which we cannot dis- solve ourselves, nor would we if we could. The old Dutch Reformed Church at Hackensack has THE HACKENSACK RIVER, BERGEN CO., N. J. Bridge connecting Hackensack and Bogota. The 'New Bridge' of Revolutionary days was some three miles up-stream, but this was the site of 'Hacken- sack Dock' a century and more ago. 258 THE FIGHTING RETREAT been remodeled, in part, since the patriot army camped be- fore its doors, but embedded within its outer walls are many of the ancient dated and inscribed stones which were por- tions of the original structure erected in 1696, and which have looked upon gallant Washington and doughty Corn- wallis. The village green, directly op- posite, is note- worthy. Here, about noon on the day following the withdrawal of the Continentals, the in-coming Hes- sians pitched camp, ''a horrid sight to the inhab- itants," as an old writer expressed it, "with their whis- kers and brass caps. (Quite evi- dutch reformed church, HACKENSACK, N. J. dentlv DrototVDeS ^'^'^ding to-day, as it did when Lafayette visited the town in 1824. of some of the husky Bavarians who over-ran Belgium in the early months of the World War, made hideous by un- shaven faces and trench helmets.) That the inhabitants of Hackensack were in great fear of the 'hated Hessians' is evidenced by the following story, which also illustrates the good sense of Washington: The Commander was about to depart, the tavern-keeper grasping his hand in farewell as he sat in the saddle. Already the enemy were pounding away in their hasty reconstruction-work at the bridge, not many miles distant. "What shall I do?" asked the worthy citizen anxiously, "I have considerable property here and a family of small children." "Mr. Campbell," returned the General, "stay by your property and keep neutral." With that, he galloped ofif to overtake his army. The most notable gravestone in the cemetery beside the Hackensack church is that of General Enoch Poor, the gallant New Hampshire officer, who 'died in the harness' THE FIGHTING RETREAT 259 during the latter years of the war, when the village had once again become American territory. His death occurred in 1780, a few miles to the north of this village. Both Washing- ton and Lafayette attended his funeral, and the latter, who was deeply attached to General Poor, made it a point to visit his grave on his last American tour. At that time the church edifice appeared exactly as it does to-day, and over the brownstone slab, as we now see it, the most noble of all Frenchmen stood with uncovered head, as — after the lapse of forty long years — he came to pay the tender tribute of remembrance. Maurice Maeterlink, in his "Blue Bird," gives expression to the beautiful thought that the departed ones are con- scious of our loving recollection. In the Land of Memory we may thus visit and commune with them. Never are they so lonely in the spirit realm as when forgotten by loved ones left behind. Regard as you will this fantasy, but learn from Lafayette the lesson that great loves and friend- ships need not be swallowed by the grave. Rather than 'strive to forget' those whom we have loved, long since, let us keep them within the warmth of our affections. Thus cherished, the memories of long ago will never bruise the heart-strings, but will prove, in increasing measure, a source of reverent joy, compounding like a well- invested legacy. The retreat of Washington across the state of New Jer- sey is strikingly like that of General Greene before Corn- wallis in North Carolina, four and a half years later. Per- haps Greene's course in the Southern campaign was influ- enced by that of Washington in the present instance, for he was one of the Commander's most trusted advisers during the march from Fort Lee to the Delaware, despite the criticism occasioned by the Fort Washington blunder. The rivers Hudson, Hackensack, Passaic and Raritan offered natural parallel barriers, extremely dangerous to have in one's rear, yet affording a large measure of protec- tion if placed between a retreating force and a pursuing 260 THE FIGHTING RETREAT enemy. Having, as we have seen, been forced out of Hack- ensack town with the enemy in hot pursuit, the position of Washington's diminishing forces would have been extreme- ly critical if caught on the East bank of the Passaic. The crossing of this river, a matter of absolute necessity, was accordingly effected with all speed and the march reluctant- ly continued toward the south. Not a trace now remains of the ancient wooden bridge over which the Amer- ican army passed on the 21st and 22nd of November, nor of the Blanchard House, in which Washington put up for one brief night. The tradition- al point of the cross- ing, then famous a s "Acquackanonck Landing," lies some- what south of the bus- iness center of mod- ern Passaic city, near the present extensive lumber yards and opposite the old Dutch Church.* Great changes have occurred during the fourteen decades which have elapsed since these stirring times. A trolley-line crosses the river over a nearby drawbridge, a Polish congre- gation now worships in the old meeting house, and the fences around the grave-yard have been converted into kindlings by some of the foreign-born communicants. Still, if you search with patience among the old frost-bitten tombstones, you may find the grave of John H. Post, a Rev- olutionary resident, who departed this life at the ripe age of one hundred and four. He it was, according to local his- GEN. ENOCH i'UOK S GRAVK in the cemetery of the old Dutch Reformed Church, Hackensack, N. J. * The passenger traveling through Passaic via the Erie Railroad, will observe this old church and graveyard, to the east of the Prospect Street station. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 261 Where Washington crossed the Pussaic River, Passaic, N. J. (' o m m e m o r a t i ve stone at Passaic Park, erected by the school-children of the city. tory, who rendered the bridge hnpassable after it had served the turn of the patriot army. The British were exceedingly wroth by reason of this discourteous behavior of his, and one legend goes so far as to say that the guilty culprit was ferretted out from among the townsfolk'and promptly hung. If this be true, he must have been speedily resuscitated, for — like Lazarus of old — *'he lived many years afterward." It is undoubtedly true that Mr. Post and his neighbors wrecked the bridge, for the British (who, by the way, did not reach Acquackanonck until the 25th) found it so hopeless- ly battered, that they forded the ice-cold river rather than wait for its restoration. Upon the slightly rising ground at Passaic Park, the school children have erected an attractive memorial at the 262 THE FIGHTING RETREAT spot near which the army passed en route to Newark. Down by the river there is an old house erroneously claimed by many to have sheltered Washington in 1776; it was not erected, however, until some time later, although possibly as early as 1778. In the stone wall near the church on River Drive there used to be a small tablet identifying this as being a locality contiguous to the Revolutionary bridge; but when last I visited Passaic I searched for it in vain. Although Washington remained at Newark for up- wards of a week, following his arrival on the 23rd of Novem- ber, the location of his headquarters in that city has never been satisfactorily established. At the time of the retreat across New Jersey, Newark had a population of just about one thousand. Along Broad Street — then, as now, the prin- cipal thoroughfare — were ranged the residences of the lead- ing citizens, some of them being men prcminent in the affairs of the state. It would seem logical to suppose that the correspondence of these patriots might have preserved for our information some clue as to which of them had the honor of entertaining the Commander. This, however, is not the case. Certainly it was not a time for 'entertain- ment', and admittedly there was littV enough occasion for felicitation. Some historians maintain that Washington ate and slept at the ancient Eagle Tavern, now but a mem- cry, others bestow the honor elsewhere. So vague is the evidence brought forth to substantiate any of these argu- ments, that the writer can do no better than make a frank avowal of ignorance in this regard. Whatever Newark may lack through the absence of a headquarters, the deficiency is more than compensated by the possession of the most beautiful representation of Washington the soldier that I have ever seen. The strik- ingly original conception of horse and rider, surmounting a pyramid of earth and enhanced by ample perspective, is a tribute well worthy of any community. Graceful in the extreme, the effect is far more pleasing than pompous; the THE FIGHTING RETREAT 263 prominence given the restless charger in no sense detracting from the benign face, restful pose and contemplative atti- tude of the illustrious champion of the American cause. WASHINGTON Massey Rhind's beautiful statue of the patriot commander, adorning the corner of Washington Park and Broad Street, Newark, N. J. Presented to the city by Amos H. Vali Horn, There can be no doubt that the major portion of Wash- ington's immediate command not only passed through New- ark, but were encamped upon that very attractive 'breath- ing spot' in the heart of busy Newark, now known as Mili- tary Park. This reservation was laid out as a civic centre when Newark was in its infancy, and many of the New Jersey veterans of the Civil War, who yet remain among us, recall their preliminary training, received in this historic place of mobilization, prior to the 'baptism of fire' at Antietam. At the upper extremity of Military Park stands the 264 THE FIGHTING RETREAT dignified Episcopal Church erected in 1708. The stranger, standing beneath its lofty portico and reading the devo- tional and historic stones and tablets upon its brownstone fagade, cannot fail to realize that the membership of this old house of spiritual devotion place next in importance to the original purpose of this sanctuary — the wor- ship of Almighty God — —the fact that the shad- ow of its lofty spire has fallen upon the army of Washington, "faint, yet pursuing." Notwithstanding the fact that the personal Washington has been lost sight of during the week of his sojourn in Essex County, his unceasing labors at this time and place are matters of his- tory. Here the Com- m a n a d e r - in -Chief attempted to reorganize his badly demoralized forces. He sent his sick to Morristown, dispatched a bat- talion to Monmouth County under Col. David Forman to suppress Tory activities, and appealed once more to the Jer- sey Legislature to augment the thinning ranks with fresh levies of state troops. On the morning of November 28th the British advance guard approached the town, and the Commander, still unable to offer a successful resistance, again moved southward; one division retreating via Eliza- bethtown and Woodbridge, the other taking a more wester- ly route through Springfield and Scotch Plains. It was at New Brunswick on the Raritan that the next NEWARK'S OLD EPISCOPAL CHURCH, adjoining Military Park; and facing historic Broad Street, along which passed the patriot army in retreat. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 265 halt of any consequence was made. Here again it seemed that the wide river, with its defensive possibilities, might serve to halt the pursuers. With this thought in mindv young Alexander Hamilton, already risen to the position of Captain of Artillery, was instructed to set up his field pieces so as to command the fordable portions of the stream. Had the expected reinforcements ar- rived from the north, ( which would have been the case had Gen- eral Lee been less dilatory ) it is not unlikely that Washington might have niaintained his position upon the 'safe side' of the Raritan a 1 1 winter. Realizing, however, that he was handicapped by an undependable subordinate, and determined to risk no more disasters — particularly at a time when one false move would be fatal — the orders were given for another 'about face'. After nightfall, on the first day of December, the army once more found itself in motion, this time headed for Princeton. During his stay in New Brunswick, or plain "Bruns- wick" as it used to be called, the Commander occupied a little cottage situated on the southwest corner of Albany and NeilsOn Streets, which landmark was ruthlessly sacri- ficed to make way for a modern business structure. Be- fore this old house, of which I have reproriuced an illustra- tion, Colonel Neilson. in July of that fateful year, had WASHINGTON'S HEADQUARTERS AT NEW BRUN.SWICK, the site of which is now occupied by the offices of the Public Service Electric Company. Albany and Neilson Streets. Courtesy of John P. Wall. 266 THE FIGHTING RETREAT mounted a table and read to the patriots of the town (among whom he was a leading spirit) the newly promulgated Declaration of Independence. After but five months of hostilities, the villagers found that the reality of the con- test was brought home to their very doors, for, with the withdrawal of Washington's soldiers, the British took pos- session of the town and there remained for several months. New Brunswick had, quite likely, been selected in ad- vance as a British base of operations in central Jersey. Modern historians who have had access to the 18th century documents on file in the archives of the British War Office at London have called attention to the fact (rather inter- esting at this time) that Lord Howe was not expected to capture the retreating army of Washington — which was considered to be already beaten — but merely to force it out of the way.* After this, Howe was instructed to settle down at New Brunswick and endeavor to impress upon the Jerseymen the fact that, as their cause was lost, the logical procedure for them to follow would be to come back into the fold and renew their severed allegiance to the mother country. These restrictions may or may not account for the leisurely stride into which the British pursuit lapsed after the crossing of the Hackensack, for it is apparent that it lay within the power of Howe to have brought on a general engagement on more than one occasion, yet he strangely forebore, and contented himself with hanging on the heels of the retiring patriots. In accord with this supposed prearrangement, Howe installed himself at 'Brunswick' for a lengthy residence, confiscating the old Neilson house on Burnett Street, near Hiram; while De Heister — with characteristic Hessian arrogance — squatted down in similar fashion, selecting the * Some readers may be inclined to regard these 'revelations' as British propa- ganda, coming at a time when the good will of the American people is much sought by the heads of the British government. It is certain that the King's ministers were, at that period, inclined to proceed with caution, but it was merely to serve their own ends. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 267 second best dwelling in the village. Situated on the navigable Raritan River, with open communication to New York by water, New Brunswick was well adapted to the purposes of the British general, who, it must be confessed, preferred a cozy fireside to an active campaign. Upon Cornwallis devolved the duty of continuing the pursuit of Wash- ington to the Dela- ware, and here the British campaign would probably liave ended had n o t Washington moved against Trenton, with re- sults so disastrous to his over-confi- dent pursuers. The "Neilson house" was pulled down a few years ago, and the illustration herewith pre- sented is perhaps the last picture to be made of this old brick dwelling, before which stood another of those im- mense, bark-denuded 'button-wood' trees, so often associated with historic localities throughout New Jersey. For six months New Brunswick was infested with the unwelcome soldiery of the invaders, who undoubtedly made things very miserable for the inhabitants, especially after the reverses at Trenton and Princeton, which curdled the milk of British 'benevolence', and the establishing of an American counter-base at Morristown from whence came active parties of patriot scouts, the further to rile the urban- ity of General Howe's provisional government. During the "THE LAST SNAP SHOT" Lord Howe's headquarters at New Brunswick in progress of demolition. 1912. 268 THE FIGHTING RETREAT latter months of British occupancy, after the tables had been somewhat reversed by the successes of Washington's men, it became exceedingly hazardous for the foraging parties to scour the country, hence they were compelled to draw supplies from New York Gity to augment the already depleted stores of the townsfolk. On the 2nd of December, Washington passed through Princeton. Here he left a third portion of his forces to cover the country and himself pushed on to Trenton on the Dela- ware, meanwhile keep- ing close watch upon Cornwallis, who had somewhat leisurely re- newed the pursuit and seemed likely to cause further annoyance. A few days at Trenton, interrupted by a hasty journey back to Princeton, convinced the Commander that he had better seek refuge in Pennsylvania. Having already trans- ported most of his stores across the Dela- ware, he himself passed over, with the rear guard, on the morning of the 8th. Cornwallis, entering Trenton a few hours later, found himself once again denied the pleasure of a meeting with Washington, the wide river which separ- ated him from the Americans being, for the time, as impass- able as the Atlantic Ocean, as anything and everything in the nature of a boat had been secured upon the west bank. NEW JERSEYS MOST HISTORIC DOCUMENT (Grant to Berkeley and Carteret, by James, Dukti of York. 1664.) While ^onle\vhat foreign to our narrative, this old grant to New Jersey's first colonial proprie- tors, — which IS in fine condition, (having escaped tho vicissitudes of the Revolution) and is to-day treasured at the museum of the N. ,J. Historical Society, Newark, — is worthy of reproduction. It vi'ill be of interest to students of New Jersey history. THE FIGHTING RETREAT 269 The disgruntled nobleman contented himself therefore, with posting detachments of Germans at Bordentown, Burling- ton and Trenton, and resignedly hied himself back to New Brunswick. As for Washington, he was enjoying good old Irish hospitality at the Bucks County home of Thomas Barclay,* one of the leading spirits among the "Society of the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick," (organized in Philadel- pliia, 1771), a staunch patriot and an ardent Whig. Here he remained until December 14th. The same day upon which Washington made his cross- ing of the Delaware, General Charles Lee, with the stragg- ling 'Army of the North', with which he had failed to accom- plish anything of note — notwithstanding his yearning for individual glory — came into Chatham, reaching Morris- town two days afterward. A month had elapsed since he had said farewell to Washington at North Castle near the Hudson. Instead of heeding the repeated appeals of the Commander-in-Chief to consolidate his division with the main army. General Lee appears to have spent the greater portion of the time in correspondence with influential men throughout the colonies, making capital of Washington's reverses in an endeavor to advance his own ambitious plans. The 13th of December was an unfortunate date for discontented 'Charlie'. As he loitered at a tavern in Bask- ing Ridge, some distance from his command, he was sur- rounded and captured by a maurauding party of British dragoons, who hurried him away in ignominious haste, half- dressed as he was, and bare-headed. Three hours later he arrived at New Brunswick, a sorry looking object, shivering by reason of the wintry winds which played about his bony shins, and too disgusted, perhaps, to heed the storm of hoots and howls which his ludicrous plight elicited from the Tories. Some historians, influenced in their opinion by sub- sequent events in the career of General Lee, have intimated * This historic homestead is still standing at Morrisville, Pa., opposite Trenton. In 1791, the premises, known as "Summer Seat", passed into the hands of Robert Morris, the Financier of the Revolution. The house is about half a mile from the Delaware. 270 THE FIGHTING RETREAT that this 'accidental capture' was arranged by Lee. This is unreasonable, because Lee still entertained hopes of super- seding Washington, and he was far too dignified to arrange any such hilarious scene (with himself the leading come- dian) even had he meditated a personal surrender. It was simply an apt illustration of the scriptural axiom: "pride goeth before a fall, and an haughty spirit before destruc- ton." Nevertheless the capture of Lee was a blessing in dis- guise for the American cause. It was well for Washington that his rival was temporarily off the scene, for General Sullivan, the officer now in command of the derelict 'lost tribes' of the army, made haste to effect a junction with his superior. Beside this numerous reinforcement, Washington was further strengthened, ere long, by the arrival of Gen- eral Gates with four regiments from the far-northern army of Schuyler. This little expedition had traveled from the Hudson, passing through the wilds of upper Jersey, (a region sparsely settled even to-day) and reaching the Dela- ware River through the Indian-haunted valley of the Minisink, TRENTDN - AND - PRINCETON McConkey's Tavern, Washington's Crossing. N. J. (Here JJiVashington tarried for refreshment before the Battle of Trenton.) ^^HE perilous crossing of an ice-choked river, the sur- ^^ prise attack upon a loosely-guarded position, the swiftly changing kaleidoscope of sly maneuver and spirited combat — culminating in the discomfiture of the British at Ptinceton and the complete upsetting of their six months careful planning — these incidents go to make up the best known chapter in American history. Were it our purpose merely to recount the story of these happenings, we should be but re-hashing a familiar. chron- icle. But, treated from the view-point of the present day, rather than that of 1776, we have legitimate cause for dwell- ing at some length upon this series of all-important events, which, from beginning to end, were entirely compassed within a ten day period of activity. From his temporary quarters on the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware, Washington observed the movements of his pursuers for almost a week before he determined upon his plan of action. Count Dunop had secured Bordentown and 272 TRENTON AND PRINCETON Burlington in Jersey, and it appeared almost certain that the British high command, believing the American army to be well-nigh impotent, meditated a move upon Philadelphia, where they believed — and not without reason — there was a strong Tory element to hamper any efforts of the American commander to save the city for the patriot cause. On the 14th of December, Washington moved to the farm-house of William Keith, near the upper fords of the Delaware, on the road from Browns- burg to the Eagle Tavern. Although some miles above Trenton, he was still within an hour's ride of his depot of supplies at Newtown. The hamlet of Taylor- ville now occupies the site of Wash- ington's " C a m p above Trenton Falls" where h e perfected his plan of a triple crossing of the river, with simultaneous attacks upon the enemy's posts at Bordentown and Trenton, and from which place he himself effected his famous passage of the river on Christmas night, although the efforts of the other detachments failed of achieving a similar success. Some eight miles above Trenton, on the New Jersey side of the Delaware, there is a little railway station desig- nated as "Washington's Crossing." Not far distant is a memorial stone, not unlike those set up by the Israelites to commemorate the crossing of Jordan in the distant past. Originally a rough-hewn block of granite, it has lately been OLD SCHOOL-HOUSE. TAYLORVILLE, PENNA. In the vicinity of Washington's place of encampment just prior to his famous 'crossing of the Delaware,' 1776 TRENTON AND PRINCETON 273 treated to a coat of whitewash by some well-meaning but inartistic villager, possibly with the intent of making it more conspicuous. On the Pennsylvania shore at Taylorville there is another marker, still more commonplace, erected by the Bucks County Historical Society in 1905. So familiar is everyone with Emanuel Leutze's historic painting "Washington Crossing the Delaware" that it needs no reproduction. The original, a massive canvas twelve b y twenty-one feet in size, now hangs in a place of honor at the Metropolitan Mu- seum of Art, New York City. Quite recently the public has been somewhat taken back by au- thoritative informa- tion to the effect that the setting of this meritorious work was staged in Germany, that the principal figures in the noble group were sketched from German models, and that the turgid, ice-swollen river is not in reality the Delaware but the Rhine, at a point not far distant from the home of the artist ! A further criticism is made by reason of the fact that the flag has a starry union, whereas in 1776 the patriots still clung to the crossed "jack" of Great Britain coupled with the thirteen colonial stripes. This latter is a sure-enough error, but what in the world is altogether faultless? The great picture, whatever its origin or the nationality of its creator, will forever remain dear to the hearts of Americans, who — as boys and girls — beheld with admiration its heroes, and heard with eager hearts its thrilling story. I cannot ascribe due credit for the following bit of con- temporary description, which I copy from a torn page Xew Jersey Commemorative Stone, 'Washington's Crossing' 274 TRENTON AND PRINCETON handed me some years ago and subsequently fished out from a dusty pigeon-hole of my desk. It was evidently written by one who participated in the attack upon Trenton and is, presumably, from the diary of an officer. I like its brevity and forceful style : "It is fearfully cold and raw and a snow-storm is setting in. The wind is northeast and beats in the faces of the men. It will be a tcrribl- night for the nun who have no shoes. Some of them have titd old rags around their feet, others are bare- foot; but I have not heard a man complain. They are ready to suffer any hardship and die rather than give up their libtrty. I have just copied the order for march- ing. Both divisions are to go from the Perry to Bear Tavern, two miles. They will separate there. Washington will accompany Greene's division with a part of the artillery down the Pennington road; Sullivan and the rest of the artillery will take the river road. "Dee. 26, 3 a.m. — The troops are all over and the boats have gone back for the artillery. We are three hours behind the set time. Glover's men had a hard time to force the boats through the floating ice with the snow drifting in their faces. I never have seen Washington so determined as he is now. He stands on the bank of the river wrapped in his cloak, superintending the landing of his troops. He is calm and collected, but very determined. The ftorm is changing to sleet and cuts like a knife. The last cannon is being landed and we arc ready to mount our horses. "Dec. 26, Noon. — It was nearly 4 o'clock when we started. The two divisions divided at Bear Tavern. At Birmingham, three miles and a half south of the tavern, a man came with a message from General Sullivan that the storm was wet- ting their muskets and rendering them unfit for service. 'Tell General Sullivan,' said Washington, 'to use the bayonet. I am resolved to take Trenton.' It was broad daylight as we neared the out.'kirts of the town" •(Then follows a description of the Battle of Trenton.) Near the marker on the Jersey Shore stands the ancient McConkey homestead. Form- erly the locality was known as Mc- Conkey 's Ferry, and down by the river's edge — just about where is now the cottage of the bridge toll-collector — stood the little 'ferry-house' where on that eventful Christmas night, some of the Continental officers storm. Washington WHERE WASHINGTON CROSSED THE DELAWARE Amid the glories of summer a far different scene from that of a wild, mid-winter night. One account tells us that the General, seated upon an abandoned bee-hive, superintend- ing the embarkation, himself crossing in one of the last boats. The insert is a more artistic conception. found brief shelter from the howling himself, before getting under way for TRENTON AND PRINCETON 275 the long inarch, partook of some hght refreshments at the McConkey house, but the statement that he passed the night here is erroneous. J'or him it was no time for sleep ; the Hessians, he hoped, were doing enough of that to justify his own wakefuhiess. "WASHINGTON'S CROSSING,'- N. J. Toll Bridge over the Delaware at the point where stood MoConkey's Ferry House in 1776. As the authority whom we have quoted has recorded, the expedition was somewhat belated, yet they reached Trenton at an hour sufficiently early to rudely disturb the ^post-jubiletic' repose of the enemy. The Trenton battle monument, a tall column erected in 1893 at the junction of modern Warren and Greene Streets,— upon the exact spot where Captain Alexander Hamilton opened his battery of New York artillery on the Hessian foe after their pickets had been driven in, — is by far the most miposing shaft in New Jersey. It w^as built at an 276 TRENTON AND PRINCETON approximate cost of one hundred thousand dollars. It is surmounted by an heroic figure of Washington, decorated with four bronze tablets in low relief, and beside the entrance door are two very life-like statues in bronze; that at the right, as you enter, representing a trooper of the 'Philadel- phia Light Horse', while its companion depicts one of the men of Glover's famous Massachusetts regiment. Both were presented by citizens of the states repre- sented, and are faithful character types, wear- ing the correct uniforms and carrying the weapons of the Revolutionary period. Within the vestibule of the tower are a number of noteworthy souvenirs, chief among which is a large section of the wooden frame- work of the Victory arch' erected over the bridge at the Assunpink Creek when, in 1787, Washington passed through Trenton on his way to inauguration at New York. An ele- vator ascends to the top of the monument, from which, at the height of 150 feet, a won- derful view of Trenton and the surrounding country may be obtained. Down Warren Street (formerly King Street) rises the spire of St. Mary's Cathedral, occupying the site of Col. Rahl's headquar- ters. The Hes- sian commander, caught napping after a Yuletide feast of good things, put up the bravest kind of a fight ; but all his efforts to stay the vigor of the American attack THE TRENTON BATTLE MONUMENT Were wlthoUt aVail. The spire of St. Mary's Church seen in the dis- tance, adjoins the site of Col. Rahl's headqiiartcrs. Down this ancient thoroughfare, then known as 'King Street,' the battle raged. TRENTON AND PRINCETON 277 Mortally wounded while dashing about among his men, he died upon the following day, while it remained for his second in command to capitulate to the victors. Near the THE AMERICAN ARMY APPROACHING TRENTON cathedral, — whose rectory is built upon the site of the dwell- ing where Rahl died — there yet remain a few houses which witnessed the running fight through Trenton's streets. Four of Trenton's old churches served as Hessian barracks, while in the graveyard of the Presbyterian congregation on State street, the unfortunate colonel was buried in some obscure spot which has never been identified. Trenton is rather compactly built, and the visitor will find all of the historic localities grouped within the radius of a mile, the Battle Monument being farthest distant from the railway station. Generally speaking, the battle began where the monument now stands, and the Hessians grounded their arms not so very far from the present site of the train-sheds; the heart of the business district of the present city representing the centre of the ancient village, lying midway between. In some respects, the object of greatest interest in Tren- ton is the New Jersey State Capitol, on the banks of the 278 TRENTON AND PRINCETON Delaware, but it is a comparatively modern building and has no eventful background to tempt the historian of Revo- lutionary days. But there is, not far distant, an old build- ing of an entirely different character which well repays in- spection. It is one of the oldest in Trenton, yet one of the best preserved, having been erected purposely for a military barracks during the days of the French War. For a similar pur- pose it was utilized by the Hes- sian invaders in 1776, and it subsequently sheltered troops of both factions as they, from time to time occupied the city. Dr. Lossing, in his "Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution," refers to it as "White Hall" This in- teresting structure, situated at the foot of Front Street, is now in the possession of the Daugh- ters of the American Revolution. At the time my picture was taken it was an 'L' shaped af- fair, but it has since been enlarged into a *U' ; blocking the end of the thoroughfare. This is said to have been its original shape, and the restored 'annex' has been built in such strict conformity with the surviving half of the 18th century edifice, that one uninformed would scarcely know 'which was which'. A photographic print of this two- volume building offers an artistic opportunity for the water- eolorist. The light-grey stone, the deep green of the ivy, the snow-white of the windows and casings, set off by the bright yellow of the flowering-shrubs, which adorn the gar- den in early summer, combine most pleasingly and with true harmony. Such portions of the Hessian force as were able to ST. MAJJY'S CATHEDRAL, TRENTON Site of Rahl's Headquarters TRENTON AND PRINCETON 279 escape from the confusion and defeat of the engagement at Trenton made their exit at the southern extremity of the town, hastening down toward Bordentown along the banks of the Delaware. This outlet would have been closed to them had Gen. Cadwalader been able to execute his part of the offensive program. As it was, the arrival of the fugi- tives at Count Dunop's headquarters caused that officer to vacate Bordentown with considerable haste, and to set his detachments once again in motion toward Brunswick. Much more prominence has been given Trenton in the conventional recital of the events of this campaign than has been accorded to these towns lower down the river, both of which were, in 1776, fully as im- portant as Trenton, if not more so. We have spoken else- where of Burling- ton as the former provincial capital, but a few words re- garding its Revolu- tionary history and present-day attrac- tiveness will certain- ly not be amiss. Archaic Burlington, with its quaint houses, red brick sidewalks and abandoned wharf and Custom House, is one of the most unique villages in the state of Jersey. Notwith- standing the fact that the trains of the Pennsylvania Rail- road pass through its principal street with the nonchalance of trolley-cars, the ancient town seems more nearly like a THE OLD BARRACKS— FRONT STREET. TRENTON 280 TRENTON AND PRINCETON community of Revolutionary times than any other centre of population in this region. Isaac Collins, the Benjamin t ranklin of New Jersey, whose newspaper was — throughout the war for independence — the leading vehicle of informa- tion for the Whigs of the province, will forever be Burling- ton's traditional hero, and his residence will be pointed out with pride. In the hallowed burial ground of St. Mary's Church lie two of Washing- ton's trusted friends: the Hon- orable William Bradford, Attorney General of the United States dur- ing the first presi- dency, and Dr. E 1 i a s Boudinot, first head of the American Bible Society. Captain James Lavvrence of ''don't give up the ship" fame, and James Fenimore Cooper, the "Sir Walter Scott of American literature" were both born in Burlington. Side by side, their birthplaces confer the diffused light of distinction to unostentatious Burlington, although the naval hero is buried in New York City and the novelist in a vil- lage which bears his name in the centre of the 'Empire State.' Had Washington surprised the Hessians at Burlington instead of at Trenton, the name of the former town would have been written in larger letters on the pages of American history, I suppose. Chance happenings, in the lives of RESIDENCE OF ISAAC COLLINS, BURLINGTON, N. J. In the wa Is of which then is said to be ( mbedded a cannon ball who^e tiring was co-incident with the Hesi-ian occupancN of 1776. Isaac Co lins was one of tlic most active Wliigs of South Jersey. He was the printer of the N. J. Gazette, and much of tlie Colonial paper currency of the province. TRENTON AND PRINCETON 281 places as well as persons, have a great deal to do with this elusive thing we call fame. The tangible results of the victory at Trenton were very considerable. Over a thousand prisoners and a propor- tionate amount of booty fell to the American army at a cost of less than thirty men, killed, wounded or frozen on the march. The moral effects of the opportune success were even greater. The faith of the feeble-kneed was strength- ened. A powerful revulsion of feeling came over the coun- try; the patriots of New Jersey again gathered courage, enthusiasm once more filled the breasts of the stern New Englanders, while staid Philadelphia (minus the Tory fac- tion) howled with pleasure at the sight of the captive hire- lings of the "most gracious monarch" as they were paraded through the streets en route to their detention camps in Pennsylvania. Having accomplished his set purpose of 'bagging' the foreign occupants of Trenton, Washington — apprehensive of the approaching army of Earl Cornwallis — thought it pru- dent to return to the Pennsylvania side of the Delaware as speedily as possible. It is generally believed that the pas- OLD HESSIAN BARRxVCKS AT CARLISLE, PA., Built and occupied by German prisoners captured at Trenton, and sent to Carlisle for safekeeping. (Photo by courtesy of Carlisle Chamber of Commerce.) 282 TRENTON AND PRINCETON sage in this instance was made at Trenton proper, by means of Patrick Colvm's ferry, which would naturally have been much easier for the soldiers than a return to McConkey's, and it is logical to presume that the commander desired to subject them to no unnecessary tramping, especially under the notoriously ill-shod conditions then existing. Colvin himself must have been of material assistance in this oper- ation, and thereby have earned the high regard of Washing- ton, for we are told that, ten years later, he had entire charge of ferrying the 'presidential party' as they journeyed from Philadelphia to the seat of the newly organized federal gov- ernment at New York. After a two-day interval of rest, Washington — rein- forced by 1500 Pennsylvania militia — determined to trans- port the army once more into Jersey. This time there was no need of boats, for the river had frozen solid. The men were in excellent spirits, and, while the impulse of victory was in their blood, the commander intended to make good use of their fighting ability. Further solace was afforded by the opportune arrival of $50,000 in hard cash from Robert Morris, 'the banker of the Revolution,' which was effectual in postponing the home-going of some of the New England Regulars, and in reducing the arrearages in pay throughout the entire army. Meanwhile Cornwallis, aware that the Americans were gathering in force at Trenton, and burning to efface the stigma of defeat, moved down from Princeton with malicious intent, Washington, effecting a junction with the detach- ments of Mifflin and Cadwalader, who had been operating around Bordentown, took stand on the southerly side of Assunpink Creek. About four o'clock on the afternoon of January 2nd. the British columns hove in sight. Quite willingly would they have crossed the gulley, but — being frustrated in their several attempts by the galling fire of the Americans — they settled down for the night upon their own side, with his Lordship tolerably certain that at last he had TRENTON AND PRINCETON 283 driven the foxy Washington into a corner and 'had him where he wanted him.' But under the friendly mantle of darkness the Amer- ican commander was preparing to execute another of those silent withdrawals, the like of which had twice before saved him from ruin.* With camp fires piled high with faggots, so as to hood-wink the enemy sentinels and to render the move- ments of his own men invisible in the somber shadows be- E'.- THE ASSUM'INK (KKEK — TKEXTON, X. .). yond, he quietly stole away toward Princeton, circling the flanks of the British by a round-about detour. Few travelers, upon alighting from the train at the Trenton railway station, realize that they are within a few feet of a little stream whose banks are as historic as those of the Delaware. If, by chance, they have caught a fleeting glimpse of the Assunpink Creek between rows of standing freight cars, it has meant nothing, nor has it l:een given a second thought. No tablet or marker of any kind is at hand to tell how, beside the narrow brook, the two great com- manders, Washington and Cornwallis, were present in per- son on the evening of January 2nd, 1777, to direct their opposing forces for the struggle which seemed inevitable on the morrow; nor that, within a c|uarter-mile of the depot, * On the exterior of the modern Ijuilding at No. 191 South Broad Street, Tren- ton, there is a tablet stating that "here, in the house of AUxander Douglass, Wash- ington called a council of war on the evening of January 2nd, 1777, when the flank movement to Princeton was •decided apon," 284 TENTON AND PRINCETON the surrender of Rahl's Hessians Kad taken place but a week before. The creek, hemmed in by houses on the outskirts of the town, is spanned by but two bridges from which the tourist of inquiring mind may view its somewhat murky waters and unsightly banks, for it soon pkmges into darkness beneath the business section of the city, emerging to join the broad FIRST PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, STATE STREET, TRENTON, N. J. Somewhere, in its tiny graveyard, Colonel Rahl is buried. Delaware after its uncertain subterranean wanderings. Hence, if one failed to note the existence of the aforesaid creek before getting into the heart of the town, he might come and go — even thinking he was familiar with Trenton, —without suspecting its existence or its historic significance. Yet in no other way may the lover of history gain so intelli- gent an idea of the relative positions of the opposing forces during the fateful hours before Washington's departure, than by an appraisement of the unromantic Assunpink TRENTON AND PRINCETON 285 'MERCER BRIDGE' OVER STONY BROOK, NEAR PRINCETON, N. ,f. Cros? ed by the Main Road between the depot and the point where it loses itself beneath the 'built-over section' of New Jersey's capital. The follower of Washington's movements must now hasten to Princeton in order that he may keep pace with the rapid course of events. Straight as the railway runs, the passenger is impressed with the thooight that a consid- erable distance intervenes between Trenton and the college town. To me it seems that the soldiers made quick time. It is recorded that they were aided in great measure by the thick crust of ice which had formed upon the snow, for it was still bitterly cold, and it may be that by very reason of the zero temperature there was no inclination to linger along the way. To understand the Battle of Princeton, you must go over the ground in person. About three miles below the village winds Stony Brook, crossed to-day by two roads, which — nearly parallel — lead directly into the town. Ac- counts of the engagement vary greatly in detail, but in all 286 TRENTON AND PRINCETON of them reference is made to the historic bridges, and the 'main road/ the present Trenton-Princeton turnpike, on either side of which the contest raged. The easiest way to describe the battle would be to say that "the advancing Americans met and defeated three British regiments which were en route from Princeton to join Cornwallis." But this laconic statement will not satis- fy, and we must go into detail even at the risk of being obscure. THE QUAKER MEETING HOUSE ON THE PRINCETON BATTLEFJEDD Courtesy of William H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J. Toward daybreak the Americans crossed the brook not far from the present railway by means of the 'Quaker Road' which, for some distance follows the stream. General Mer- cer, leading the vanguard, continued along its northerly bank until he arrived at the head of the turnpike bridge which now bears his name. He then became aware that, not a quarter of a mile away, two British regiments going toward Trenton had passed across the upper bridge, via the 'old road' — which, as we have said, runs nearly parallel with the present turnpike. Had it been summertime, when thick TRENTON AND PRINCETON 287 foliage obscures the landscape, it is possible that neither party would have caught sight of the other. As it was, the enemy soon discovered the presence of the Americans and Colonel Mawhood, in command, hurried back over the bridge, to intercept what he rightly judged to be but a small portion of the patriot force. We now find both the British and Mercer's men leaving their positions at a bridgehead to engage in mortal combat upon a bit of rising ground mid- way between, — half a mile to the north toward Princeton. The troops of Mercer were the first to get into position and deliver a volley, but Mawhood deployed his grenadiers to advantage and returned the compliment with vigor. The tired Americans were unfit and unequal to an encounter with the finest troops of the British army and soon gave way. Their assailants, pressing forward, spared not to use the bayonet, and soon the patriots were in full flight. Mercer, whose dapple-grey mount had fallen early in the fight, was repeatedly wounded while resisting cap- ture and was left for dead upon the field. Washington, who had — with the main army — headed direct for Princeton, now arrived on the scene with rein- forcements. Immediately taking in the critical situation, he waved encouragement to the panic-stricken ones who were on the verge of rout and unhesitktingly rode forward to a point directly between the advancing enemy and his own followers. This is the celebrated incident so often illus- trated in our books of history — "Washington at the Battle of Princeton." It is surprising that he was not shot down on the instant, for scarce sixty yards separated the com- batants. Seated on his white charger, he must have pre- sented a picture ^ruly inspiring. I conjecture that he was readily recognized by many among the foemen, but that — for a moment — both friend and foe were dumbfounded at his seeming bravado. Colonel Fitzgerald, one of his aides, confesses that he expected to see him fall momentarily. Is it possible that something more than chance saved 288 TRENTON AND PRINCETON his life? Did he coolly calculate at that crucial moment on the power of personality? Did he realize that few men would de-iberately shoot down a commanding general? Or did he consider the emergency so great as to warrant the THE 'UPPf^K BRIDGE' OVER STONY BROOK, PRIx\CETON BATTLEFIELD Courtesy of William H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J. sacrifice of his life if need be? These things we shall never know, l^sually prudent in the extreme, the conduct of Washington on this occasion shows him throwing prudence to the winds. He considered, in all probability, that defeat here would mean ultimate annihilation. Cornwallis was now" coming up from Trenton, and between two fires a de- feated army would have small chance of survival. Surely, after a study of the events of this day, none can accuse Washington of personal cowardice. It is unnecessary to add that his example stimulated the Americans to do their TRENTON AND PRINCETON 289 utmost, with the result that the enemy were shortly driven from the field. The ancient stone bridges spanning Stony Brook are similar in many respects, both being substantial structures of masonry with triple arches. So perfectly do they adapt themselves to the historic stream, that it seems a pity to dis- illusion ourselves and state the truth, to wit, that they were erected after the battle of Princeton, to replace those demol- ished by the Americans to retard the progress of Cornwallis. It is recorded that the irate nobleman, on his 'hot-foot' march from Trenton, arrived in time to see the patriot wreckers completing their work of destruction. To-day the "Mercer Bridge," which carries the principal highway, is more frequently used than its westerly neighbor; but beside the upper span, where Mawhood's troops crossed the brook, are the remains of Worth's Mills, a sure-enough Revolu- tionary structure. A small pyramid of cannon shot in the fields not far from the new road guides the visitor to the place of Mer- cer's martyrdom. The little "Clark House" — where the General breathed his last — is also near at hand and readily accessible. This old farm-house, as well as a tiny Quaker meeting-house beside which Washington formed his troops, is quite near the Mercer Bridge. The little house of wor- ship is at the most southerly point of the battle-field. Poor Mercer was found in the snow, unconscious but still alive, and was tenderly carried to Clark's by his fellow-officers. Here he lingered until the 12th of January, carefully nursed by the kindly women of the household and courteously attended by the staff-surgeon of Cornwallis, when that emi- nent general arrived on the scene in the course of his pur- suit. Moreover, Cornwallis willingly permitted the presence and aid of one of Washington's doctors at the bedside. Lit- tle acts of kindness, such as this, have caused Cornwallis to be respected by Americans. His service in the cause of his king was, while faithfully performed, uniformly free 290 TRENTON AND PRINCETON from malice. He never forgot to be a gentleman. That Washington realized this, is evident from the treatment accorded him when the victory at Yorktown made him a prisoner, in the hands of those whom he had fought so well. No officer of the American army was more sincere- ly mourned, nor has been more widely honored than Hugh Mer- cer. Streets, cit- ies and counties all over the coun- trV now bear his where mercer fell, Princeton Battlefield name; his remains lie at Philadelphia in a worthy sepul- chre, and very recently — in his old home town of Fredericks- burg, Va., — a splendid and spirited monument has been erected to his memory. The entire Princeton battle-field is still a region of open farm-land, free from the sacrilegious encroachments of modern dwellings; and many a visitor to the famous college will find rare pleasure in walking amid the sweet scented fields of clover where history was made, or drawing near the snug little cottage, in a pretty grove of cedars, where a monument, a cannon and the stars and stripes, perpetuate the memory of one of the most illustrious of Virginia's sons, and remind the passer-by that we are what we are because of the heroism of our forefathers! Three British regiments figure in the Battle of Prince- ton. The 55th and 17th were engaged with Mercer and suffered most when Washington, arriving opportunely, turned the tide. Finding themselves considerably out- numbered, and being subject to severe reprisal for their own savagery, they drew out of the melee and scattered TRENTON AND PRINCETON 291 to the four points of the compass, some making south, others retreating with all speed to their base at New Bruns- wick, while still others made for Princeton town to join a portion of the 40th regiment which had barricaded them- selves in "Nassau Hall," the one building then possessed by the college of New Jersey. The battle, however, had been fought and won, and the resistance of the fugitives who had thought to defend themselves in the halls of learn- GENERAL HUGH MERCER AND THE HOUSE IN WiflCH HE DIED Princeton Battlefield ing was short-lived. The patriot cannon were unlimbered in the campus and a few convincing volleys brought them to terms. Washington was now completely master of the situ- ation. Had he followed his own inclinations he would have pushed on to New Brunswick without a moment's delay, in which event he would probably have captured a wealth of materials and munitions belonging to His Sovereign Majesty. He did indeed join his little force of cavalry 192 TRENTON AND PRINCETON and gallop with them as far as Kingston. But here pru- dence once again called a halt, and for the sake of his men, cold, tired and hungry — he decided to abandon a further offensive. Rejoining the infantry at Princeton he turned their faces toward the hills and by nightfall all were in Another view of the cottage where Mercer died, — Princeton Battlefield (Courtesy of Wm. H. Broadwell, Newark, N. J.) safety at Millstone. Then, by easy stages, after a two-days' halt at Pluckemin, they headed for Morristown, at which place it had been decided to winter. Most visitors to the University of Princeton approach the college town by the "shuttle" which runs from the junction on the line of the Pennsylvania Railroad to the very doors of the dormitories. The auto-road from Tren- ton is much more interesting, traversing as it does the length of the Revolutionary battlefield south of the village proper. Along the latter route there are many fine resi- dences. Midway between the battlefield and the town there is a wayside-well, to which attention is called by a genteel little sign bearing the legend "Washington's Spring," giving one the impression that the General might possibly TRENTON AND PRINCETON 293 have paused for a moment to quench his thirst as he hurried toward Princeton with his soldiers. To the tramper who is enjoying a summer day's outing, the ivy-covered well-curb appears most attractive, and he is nothing loath to drink long and deeply. If Washington availed himcelf of a similar privilege, however, it was cer- tainly not upon that bleak January day when he hurried by in pursuit of the British. With a blanket of snow covering all the landscape and a crust of ice around the edges of the crystal pool, it is more than likely that he deferred h i s libation until a more invigorat- ing d r a m was forthcoming a t the Princeton Tavern. Yet, as the Commander had frequent occasion to proceed along this highway in later years, I doubt not that the spring is entitled to the distinction claimed for it. In Washington's time, "The College of New Jersey," now known the world over as Princeton University, was housed in the one building which is the venerated "Nassau Hall" of to-day. There are now more college edifices under the management of the university trustees than there were houses in the ancient village of 1776. Legacies and endow- ments have enriched the university in worldly goods, and enabled it, as New Jersey's greatest educational center, to keep pace with Harvard, Yale or Syracuse. Yet "Old Nas- •'WASHINGTON'S SPRING" On the Princeton-Trenton Turnpike, the road along which passed the American army, January 3rd, 1777. 294 TRENTON AND PRINCETON sau" is Princeton's most precious asset, its visible legacy of history. What old "Massachusetts Hall" is to Harvard, that is "Old Nassau" to Princeton. It was erected in 1757, and derived its name from the fact that William III of Eng- land was a scion of the royal House of Nassau. Just prior to the battle of Princeton the building had been utilized as a barracks by the British, who added insult to injury by stabling their horses in the basement. A fire in 1802 com- pletely gutted the structure, but the walls remained intact. 'REVOLUTIONARY PILGRIMS' AT PRINCETON Athletic events draw enormous crowds to Princeton. Of the thousands of visitors there are always a few hands-full, or 'autos-fuU' who avail themselves of the opportunity to visit the battlefield. To my mind, the most striking thing about Nassau Hall is its mantle of green. Each succeeding class which has graduated from these classic halls has planted, without, a tiny sprig of glossy ivy, with a small identifying tablet. Thus we see, along the base of the wall "Ivy — Class of 1847," of "1865", etc, and, with the passing years, the interwoven vines have twined all over the ancient brick- work, covering the time-stained walls, as it were, with a mantle of affection, for thus is "Old Nassau" regarded by all Princeton men. While at Princeton we shall do well to make a hurried visit, time permitting, to the village burial ground, for here repose a number of men whose names will be forever associated with the history of our country. Princeton town TRENTON AND PRINCETON 295 has literally grown up around the university ; even the quiet graveyard is part and parcel of the college, for here many of its illustrious presidents and teachers rest from their labors. Good old Dr. Witherspoon, sixth president of Princeton, one of Jersey's five signers of the Declaration — and, incidentally, the only clergyman to affix his name to the great document of independence — here sleeps the sleep of the just. His tomb will be found in the 'President's row' near that of Dr. Aaron Burr, another of the distinguished heads of the university. Aaron Burr the younger, he of hon- estly won fame and equally merited in- famy, lies close by his father. The flag placed upon his grave testifies to his bravery in the cause o f American free- dom ; his faults should, perhaps, have been buried with him. "OLD NASSAU HALL". PRINCETON UNIVERSITY Aged and well-beloved. A i>-irkro rooonfl-«7- Within these walls the defeated British troops ^ lUUiti ICLeilUy nja^g their last stand, Jan. 3, 1777. erected monument is that of Grover Cleveland, twice presi- dent of the United States, who was born and who died a Jersey man. I rather admire the sturdy character of the old sports- man of Buzzard Bay, and a visit to his grave was to me something of a privilege. Death, wretched thing that it is, surely opens the door to intimacy. A few short years ago, the name of Cleveland was on every tongue; as our 296 TRENTON AND PRINCETON Chief Executive, his busy moments were weighted with a nation's problems, so that even a brief interview could have been granted only at a sacrifice of precious time. Now, without fear of trespassing or of a rival claimant for the honor. I may spend an entire day in his company, if so it suit my fancy. Possibly it is for similar reasons that those who worship the great and the near- great have a predilection for wandering about Westminster and the Pantheon. It may be that grave- yard rambles are un- healthy, in that they tend to melancholy. But of this you need have no fear in Princeton, for in a college town you can- not be gloomy, try as you will. The atmosphere of endeavor and ambition is too powerful an a n t i- dote. Scarcely have you closed the cemeter\^ gate than V o u encounter . , ' THE GRAVE OF PRESIDENT CLEVELAND juniors who are the Princeton. N. J. incarnation of youthful deviltr3% or affected-looking 'fresh- men' who deport themselves as though conscious that their inspired souls were fashioned in the versimilitude of genius. So invigorating is the spirit of a university village that I wish, in all sincerity, that every 'old fossil' among my learned but case-hardened friends might make an annual pilgrim- age to Princeton, there to shake off his mantle of cynicism, the sack-cloth of the soul. On the other hand, there is something about a college TRENTON AND PRINCETON 297 town which catches hold of the visitor, and, if he himself is not 'college bred,' fills him with a sense of regret be- cause of the fact that he has missed certain opportunities vouchsafed to others. It is, I suppose, a realizaion of one's deficiencies in the matter of education, which cannot be otherwise than helpful if — profiting thereby — the individual begins a painstaking course of self-education. There are those who scoff at the logic of the phrase: "a self-made man," but honest effort can accomplish modern miracles, and no one under high heaven can keep down a man deterrnined to raise himself. I need only cite the examples of Franklin and Washington, by the last magic word bring- ing myself back again to the subject from which I have, once more, inadvertently, wandered. That Washington was self-taught in everything from military tactics to statesmanship is so well known that the facts need no amplification. It is further apparent that among the annals of the world's foremost men, the story of education — thrust upon them or painstakingly acquired — runs 'nip and tuck,' and, where final results are concerned, shows a few points in favor of the man who in youth was denied educa- tional advantages. Furthermore, regarding university tiaining, I am convinced that the student who 'works his way' usually places a higher value upon his opportunities than the fellow who has no financial worries. Happily, Princeton is open to those of small means, and provides opportunities to aid the struggling student. On the evening of the second of November, 1916, I sat by a window in one of the old dormitoiy buildings at Princeton, a structure well nigh as ancient as Nassau Hall. My host was a student from far-off Texas, a big, good- natured son of the Southwest, hardened by a boyhood spent in the saddle, and scarred by more than one brush with the thieving Mexicans on the border. In the open hearth the fire crackled merrily. Upon the broad window-sill, in the alcove where we sat, were crowded the carved initials of 298 TRENTON AND PRINCETON a century's denizens of this self-same room — students, ' many of whom had gone out into life to leave a much more enduring mark upon the pages of the nation's history. In the campus without, a howling mob surged and crowded and cheered. It was 'Election Night/ that unfor- getable presidential election, when — for so many hours — the result was in doubt. Would it be Hughes or New Jersey's former governor, the ex-president of Princeton? Around the little telegraph office in the town the anxious crowd clamored for the re- turns, the Princeton boys never losing faith in Father Woodrow, for they kept up an incessant racket, — sing- ing, yelling a n d prancing around like Bedlam let loose. We, too, joined the riotous mob around the Western Union office, but finding it in the process of being liter- ally pushed off its founda- tions, once again adjourned to the storied den. Here, looking down upon the throng of slim and handsome figures cavorting about the campus, my companion regaled me with many entertaining stories of Mr. Wilson, who — as head of the university — had lent the helping hand to hun- dreds of discouraged students, and to whom unstinted credit is due for countless acts of kindness which will never be known. Is there to be found, in all the annals of America, a more singular biography than that of Woodrow Wilson? In 1908, a comparatively unknown school-master; in 1918 a world-arbiter! Be it remembered, however, that for WOODROW WILSON The "Official Photograph" of 1908, when, as President of Princeton University, he was unknown outside the cir- cles of education and literature TRENTON AND PRINCETON 299 years and years he had been a keen student and interpreter of history, as if some unseen hand was directing his Unes of thought in preparation for the time when he himself was to make history. As to the wisdom of the course he has pursued, posterity must be the judge. We, being con- temporary witnesses or participants, 'profiteers' or sufferers, are scarcely in a position to render either indictment or eulogium. While it would be highly improper to attempt com- parisons, we may safely affirm that there are some inter- esting and striking parallels in the public life of Washing- ton — who, in the years of his presidency, so strongly advised against "entangling alliances" — and in the execu- tive experiences of the distinguished exponent of the "League of Nations," — principles which appear so greatly at variance. To-day Washington is regarded not merely as the father of America, but is honored, the world over, as the greatest path-finder in the realization of national liberty. If future generations are to remember Woodrow Wilson, it will not be because "he kept us out of war" or plunged us into it ; his renown will rest upon the success or failure of his great ideal — the international experiment of nations banded together to avert war. With absolute truth it may be said that Princeton offered for both W^ashington the soldier, and Wilson the thinker, a great opportunity, — a stepping-stone to honor. Each of them made the most of it. It might be well for us to accompany Washington through Somerset County and see him safely established at Morristown before bringing the chapter to a close. The 'Somerset hills' are noted for their gentle beauty, yet the population of the region is quite meagre. Of late years, however, there has been developed an increasing number of beautiful private estates hereabout. Many a densly wooded hilltop is now adorned by the palatial coun- try seat of some wealthy citizen of the Metropolis, but for 300 TRENTON AND PRINCETON the most part the little villages remain as of yore, and, where not immediately upon the railway lines, the number of their inhabitants does not exceed that of the Revolu- tionary period. A good road leads up towards Morristown, flanked on the east by the undulating meadow land of the upper Pas- saic Valley, and varied with many a pretty copse and dingle. That it is an old thoroughfare is attested by the ancient houses by the roadside, upon whose 'rural free delivery' boxes we see the names of practically every old family associated with the days of original settlement. Each lone- ly farmhouse, it would seem, harbors two or three energetic dogs, which are so burden- e d w i t h a sense of re- s p n s i bility that they be- gin a protract- ed concert of barking while the traveler is "yet a great way off" and continue to vociferate with ire and vehemence until he is lost beyond all sense of sight, smell or hearing. Two miles below the Morris County boundary, where we cross the Passaic (here a narrow and youthful stream- let), we pass through the main street of Bernardsville. Be- fore the Public Library, — an old time dwelling now con- verted to this most worthy of uses, — a cement marker, close to the curb, confirms the story that, by this route, Washing- ton journeyed to Morristown after the victorious Prince- ton campaign in the early days of the new year 1777. The THE "PUBLIC LIBRARY" of Bernardsville, N. J., with commemorative marker. TRENTON AND PRINCETON 301 house itself witnessed the passing. It is of wood, and has iniquestionably been altered somewhat in appearance, but there is no reason for doubting its age. The exposed outer stone work of the chimney at the right would be sufficient evidence, in itself, to place the cottage in the 'eighteenth century' class. But it is at Basking Ridge, a mile distant, that there exists one of the most noteworthy landmarks in New Jer- sey. It is a gigantic oak tree, estimated to be about four hundred years old, with a rugged trunk almost twenty-four feet in circumference and spreading branches measuring 130 feet from tip to tip. No mere description will suffice in this case, the tree must be seen, amid its beautiful sur- roundings, to be fully appreciated. As a sort of preamble, I may say that Basking Ridge has a three-fold claim to our interest. First of all, it was in this region that William Alexander, "Lord Stining," had his mansion; again, it was in the tavern of a Mrs. White, located at the farther end of the village, that the crabbed and disobedient Gen. Charles Lee was surprised and taken prisoner by the British in 1776, as narrated elsewhere; his troops meantime being encamped at "Vealtown," — (the old name for Bernards- ville). These two memorable facts, with the presence of the still-existing tree, — beneath which, we are told, (though by what authority I know not) that Washington sat one day at dinner, — make Basking Ridge the ob- jective point of a delightful outing. As to the name, "Bask- ing Ridge," my companion of the day naively suggested that on the prominent ridge above the town the erstwhile denizens of the forest, — deer, foxes, catamounts and the like, — used to come to bask in the sunshine before the advent of the white intruders. Now, as to the tree. It adorns the 'kirkyard' of the village sanctuary, which, incidentally, is the prettiest coun- try house of worship I have ever seen, constructed of clean- looking red brick, and white wood-work freshly painted, 302 TRENTON AND PRINCETON adorned with a neat spire, and boasting of a modern addi- tion housing the Sabbath School. The church dates from 1824, superseding the Revolutionary building. In the ad- jacent graveyard, — deep rooted among brown-stone slabs adorned with winged cherubs, serio-comic epitaphs and dates running away back in- to the 'seven- teens,' — stands the un- gainly arboreal giant. Its wide - spread - ing branches, extending far out beyond the rubble wan, have been rev- — THE AGED OAK AT BASKING RIDGE — erently propped up by the villagers with sturdy beams, lest they fall beneath the weight of years. This old tree must have attained ordinary growth when the settlers were starving at Jamestown; and at the time when Washington enjoyed its friendly shade it surely had assumed unusual proportions; yet it still lives on, and will, perhaps, be found green and flourishing when we, too, shall have run our brief course and passed out into the sunlight, — for it shows as yet no indication of senility. When the 'old Elm' at Cambridge — now badly shattered- — shall be no more, this monarch of the forest may justly suc- ceed to first p'ace in the hearts of those who love Nature TRENTON AND PRINCETON 303 and revere the memory of our forefathers. On the 6th of January, the weary ana foot-sore soldiers of Washington completed the final stages of then march to Morrislown. Here the army remained until the end cf May, emerging (after five months' rest, repair and additions thereto) 7,000 strong. During this interval of recuperation, Washington put up at what is sometimes spoken of as "IVeeman's Tavern." but which was, in reality, the hostelry maintained by Major Jacob Arnold, of the Morris County Light Horse. This building, now transformed info the All Soul's Hospital, and removed a mile distant from its origin- al location, is still standing, but has been so altered that ic bears little resemblance to its old-time self, of which a The 'ARNOLD TAVERN,' Morristown, picture, reproduccd froui an old —as it was in 1777— prlut, Is here appended. It was, however, during the winter of 1779-80, that Washington re- mained longest at Morristown, when he occupied the resi- '^^^:5::>s,^ dence of the re- cently deceased Col. Jacob Ford, who had c o m- manded the First Regiment of the M orris County Militia during the A frame structure, until 1886 an undisturbed landmark. retreat of '76. To the reader of Revolutionary history, to whom the events of Trenton and Princeton have served to mark but the beginning of Washington's greatest services in his coun- try's cause, it may be surprising to reflect that — with the settling down into winter quarters at Morristown in Janu- ary of 1777, — the great commander had rounded out al- 304 TRENTON AND PRINCETON most exactly two-thirds of the years of his life. Ponder upon this fact, — as, perhaps, did Washington himself while snow-bound in the Jersey hills, — and be of good courage, if you, too, have passed beyond the meridian. For it remained for Washington, as for so many other worthy men and famous, to make the so-called ''latter years" the period of greatest accomplishment and service. With faculties unimpaired by excesses, with wits sharpened by experience, with heart strengthened by an an unshaken trust in an over-ruling Providence; he was destined to reap the rewards of ''faith and works." So let us all endeavor to shape our lives, remembering that when individual achievement and service to mankind are so successfully blended as in the career of Washington, a man to God's own liking is the result! r*5 ft*" (5^ ,^'% V ^♦i %/ '^ 'o.** A <^ *^Tvr« .G^ ^3, 'o.T* A <^ ♦/TV -j»^. .A^^^ ^o HECKMAN BINDERY INC. ^ JUN 89 ,^ N. MANCHESTER, ^S#^ INDIANA 46962