! „4q N^ .V ^ ^ 55 c 0' '%H^ rO^ .i. ^ * V^ ^ iC c> ■/i-, o ^^0^ -^^0^ .^ H Q ^ '"^^^s \j r ,0 ^- xO^ / .. ^ N mj^ N ^-J?- ^■' ^^ ^Ad< C^'^ ^ T- |C 55 * -^ .^' 9> #-' -.t ^^. V "^^O^ ^ .e,^../r. *e # - '^ ,% .^ 0" ^^ : \ \ ^ , ^/ y ^^ %^ ^ - .^^■:^i/:^/c ^..^^ cP C O^ G^^\ ^. -^^^'\^ %d< :/''^"'^'^^ ^6^ :-^ •^ * " /■ -^ o V> x^ ^' .^■■•iK^.^x ^t .V ^- %, .X^' "IX\ '>;<■ //>! .\\^ ,^^ °^ 0^ o,. / °- dlUJID (UMIE:^^^ B^Y off T O IFU IIE s AMERICAN POLITICAL AND MILITARY BIOGRAPHY. (• IN TWO PARTS. V PwAJlT I. THE POLITICAL LIVES AND PUBLIC CHARACTERS OF THE PRES] DENTS OF THE UNITED STATES, AND OTHER DISTINGUISHED PUBLIC MEN. FART XZ. THE LIVES CHARACTERS, AND ANECDOTES OF THE MILITARY AND NAVAL OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION. WHO -WERE MOST DISTINGUISHED IN ACHIEVING Ot'i', XATIOJVAL INDEPENDENCE, COPY RIGHT SECURED. PRINTED FOR "SUBSCRIBERS, f. .#,' /k^t[.c. &-C." This for the same reason was re- jected. After the disastrous battle of Brooklyn, on the twenty* j;eventh of August, in which Stirling and Sullivan were taken prisoners, and of which he was only a spectator, he witlv^ drew the troops from Long-Island, and in a few days he re- solved to withdraw from New-York. At Kipp's Bay, about tHrf c miles from the city, some works ha^ been flirown iijp 32 WASHINGTON. to oppose the enemy ; but, on their approach, the Ameri- can troops fled with precipitation. Washington rode to- wards the hnes, and made every exertion to prevent the dis- *i;raceful flight. He drew his sword and threatened to run the cowards through; he cocked and snapped his pistols; but it was all in vain. Such w as the state of his mind, at this moment, that he turned his horse towards the advancing enemy, apparently with the intention of rushing upon death. His aids now seized the bridle of his horse and rescued him from destruction. New-York was, on the same day, Sep- tember the fifteenth, evacuated. In October he retreated to the White Plains, where, on the twenty-eighth, a consi- derable action took place, in which the Americans were overpowered. After the loss of Forts Washington and Lee he passed into New-Jersey, in November, and was pursued by a triumphant and numerous army. His army did not amount to three thousand, and it was daily diminishing ; hi.s men, as the winter commenced, were barefooted and almost naked, destitute of tents and of utensils, with which to dress their scanty provisions ; and every circumstance tended to fill the mind with despondence. But Gen. Washington was undismayed and firm. He showed himself to his enfeebled army with a serene and unembarrassed countenance, and they were inspired with the resolution of their commander. On the eighth of December he was obhged to cross the Delaware ; but he had the precaution to secure the boats for seventy miles upon the river. While the British were waiting for the ice to afford them a passage, as his own army had been re-enforced by several thousand men, he formed the resolution of carrying the cantonments of the enemy by surprise. On the night of the twenty-fifth of December he' s^ sians prisoners, a thousand stand of arms, and six field pieces. Twenty of the enemy were killed. Of the Americans two pri- vates were killed, and two frozen to death; and one officer and three or four privates were wounded. On the same day he re- crossed the Delaware with the fruits of his enterprise ; but in two or three days passed again ifito New-Jersey, and concenr frated his forces, amounting to five thousand, at Trenton. On theapproachof a superior enemy, under Cornwallis, Januafy 2., 1777; he d^ew up his men behind AsBinnpinCl; Creek-, HTo WASHINGTON. 33 expected an attack in the morning, which would probably result in a ruinous defeat. At this moment, when it was hazardous, if not impracticable to return into Pennsylvania, he formed the resolution of getting into the rear of the ene- my, and thus stop them in their progress towards Philadel- phia. In the night he silently decamped, taking a circuitous route through Allen's Town to Princeton. A sudden change of the weather to severe cold rendered the roads favorable for his march. About sunrise his van met a Bri- tish detachment, on its way to join Cornwallis, and was de- feated by it ; but as he came up he exposed himself to eve- ry danger, and gained a victory. With three hundred pri- soners he then entered Princeton. During this march many of his soldiers were without shoes, and their feet left the marks of blood upon the frozen ground. This hardship, and their want of repose, induced him to lead his army to a place of security on the road to Morristown. Cornwallis, in the morning, broke up his camp, and alarmed for his stores at Brunswick urged the pursuit. Thus the military genius of the American com- mander, under the blessing of divine Providence, rescued Philadelphia from the threatened danger, obliged the enemy, which had overspread New Jersey, to return to the neigh- borhood of New York, and revived the desponding spirit of his country. Having accomplished these objects, he retired to Morristown, where he caused his whole army to be inoc- ulated for the small-pox, and thus was freed from the appre- hension of a calamity, which might impede his operations during the next campaign. On the last of May he removed his army to Middlebrook. about ten miles from Brunswick, where he fortified himself very strongly. An ineffectual attempt was made by Sir William Howe to draw him from his position, by marching towards Philadelphia ; but after Howe's return to New- York, he moved towards the Hudson, in order to defend the passes in the mountains, in the expectation that a junc- tion with Burgoyne, who was then upon the lakes, would be attempted. After the British general sailed from New- York, and entered the Chesapeake in August, General Washington marched immediately for the defence of Phila- delphia. On the eleventh of September, he was defeated at Brandy wine, with the loss of nine hundred in killed and wounded. A few days afterward, as he was pursued, he turned upon the enemy, determined upon another engage- 34 WASHINGTON. ment ; but a heavy rain so damaged the arms and ammuni? tion, that he was under the absolute necessity of again re- treating. Philadelphia was entered by Cornwalhs on the twenty-sixth of September, On the fourth of October, the American commander made a well planned attack upon the British camp at Germantown ; but in consequence of the darkness of the morning, and the imperfect discipline of his troops, it terminated in the loss of twelve hundred men, in killed, wounded and prisoners. In December, he went into winter quarters at Valley Forge, on the west side of the Schuylkill, between twenty and thirty miles from Philadelphia. Here his army was in the greatest distress for want of provisions, and he was reduced to the necessity of sending out parties to seize what they could find. About the same time a combination, in which some members of congress were engaged, was formed to remove the com- mander in chief, and to appoint in his place Gates, whose successes of late had given him a high reputation. But the name of Washington was too dear to the great body of Americans, to admit of such a change. Notwithstanding the discordant materials, of which his army was composed, there was something in his character, which enabled him to attach both his officers and soldiers so strongly to him, that no distress could weaken their affection, nor impair the ven- eration, in which he was generally held. Without this at- tachment to him, the army must have been dissolved. Gen- eral Conway, v/ho was concerned in this faction, being wounded in a duel with Gen. Cadwallader, and thinking his wound mortal, wrote to General Washington, ' You are, in my eyes, the great and good man." On the first of Feb- ruary, 1778, there were about four thousand men in camp, unfit for duty for want of clothes. Of these, scarcely a man had a pair of shoes. The hospitals also were filled with the sick. At this time the enemy, if they had march- ed out of their winter quarters, would easily have dispersed the American army. The apprehension of the approach of a French fleet inducing the British to concentrate their forces, when they evacuated Philadelphia on the seven- teenth of June, and marched towards New York, General Washington followed them. Contrary to the advice of a council, he engaged in the battle of Monmouth on the twenty-eighth ; the result of which made an impression favorable to the cause of America. He slept in his cloak ^n the field pf b^ttle^ intending to renew the attack the \VASHL\GTON. 5.a next morning ; but at midnight the British marched off in such silence, as not to be discovered. Their loss, in killed, was about three hundred ; and that of the Americans six- ty-nine. As the campaign now closed in the middle states, the American army went into winter quarters, in the neigh- borhood of the Highlands upon the Hudson. Thus, after the vicissitudes of two years, both armies were brought back to the point, from which they set out. During the j'^ar 1779, General Washington remained in the neigh- bourhood of New York. In January 1780, in a winter memorable for its severity, his utmost exertions were ne- cessary to save the army from dissolution. The soldiers, in general, submitted with heroic patience to the want of provisions and clothes. At one time they ate every kind of horse-food but hay. Their sufferings at length were so great, that in March two of the Connecticut regiments mu- tinied ; but the mutiny was suppressed, and the ringlead- ers secured. In September the treachery of Arnold was detected. In the winter of 1781, such were again the priva- tions of the army, that a part of the Pennsylvania line re- volted, and marched home. Such, however, was still their patriotism, that they delivered up some British emissaries to General Wayne, who hanged them as spies. Commit- ting the defence of the posts on the Hudson to General Heath, General Washington in August marched with Count Rochambeau for the Chesapeake, to co-operate with the French fleet there. The siege of Yorktown commenced on the twenty-eighth of September, and on the nineteenth of October, he reduced Cornwallis to the necessity of sur- rendering, with upwards of seven thousand men, to the combined armies of America and France. The day after the capitulation, he ordered that those who were under ar- rest should be pardoned, and that divine service, in ac- knowledgment of the interposition of Providence, should be performed in all tlie brigades and divisions. This event filled America with joy, and was the means of terminating the war. Few events of importance took place in 1782. In March, 1783, he exhibited his characteristic firmness and decision, in opposing an attempt to produce a mutiny by anonymous letters. His address to his officers, on the oc- casion, displays in a remarkable degree his prudence, and the correctness of his judgment. When he began to read it, he found himself in some degree embarrassed, by the 36 WASHINGTON. imperfection of his sight. Taking out his spectacles, he said, ' These eyes, my friends, have grown dim, and these locks white in the service of my country ; yet I have nev- er doubted her justice.' He only could have repressed the spirit, which was breaking forth. On the nineteenth of April, a cessation of hostilities was proclaimed in the American camp. In June he addressed a letter to the governors of the several states, congratulating them on the result of the contest in the establishment of independ- ence, and recommending an indissoluble union of the states, under one federal head, a sacred regard to public justice, the adoption of a proper peace establishment, and the prevalence of a friendly disposition among the people of the several states. It was with keen distress, as well as with pride and admiration, that he saw his brave and vete- ran soldiers, who had suffered so much, and who had borne the heat and burden of the war, returning peacea- bly to their homes, without a settlement of their accounts, or a farthing of money in their pockets. On the twenty- tifth of November, New-York was evacuated, and he en- tered it, accompanied by Governor Clinton, and many re- spectable citizens. On the fourth of December, he took his farewell of his brave comrades in arms. At noon the principal officers of the army assembled at Frances' tavern, and their beloved commander soon entered the room. His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass with wine he turned to them and said, ' With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you ; I most de- voutly wish, that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy, as your former ones have been glorious and hon- orable.' Having drunk, he added, ' 1 cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take me by the hand.' Gen- eral Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Incapable of utterance, General Washington grasped his hand, and em- braced him. In the same affectionate manner, he took his leave of each succeeding officer. In every eye was the tear of dignified sensibility, and not a word was articulated to interrupt the silence and the tenderness of the scene. Ye men who delight in blood, slaves of ambition ! When your work of carnage was finished, could ye tlius part with your companions in crime 1 Leaving the room General Washington passed through the corps of light-infantry, walked to White-hall, where a barge waited to carry ]him WASHINGTON. 97 to Powles' Hook. The whole company followed iu mute procession, with dejected countenances. When he enter- ed the barge, he turned to them, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent adieu ; receiving from them the same last aifectionate compliment. On the twenty-third of Decem- ber, he resigned his commission to congress, then assem- bled at Annapolis. He delivered a short address on the occasion, in which he said, ' 1 consider it an indispensable* duty, to close this last solemn act of my official life, by com- mending the interests of our dearest country to the pro- tection of Almighty God, and those who have the superin- tendence of them, to his holy keeping.' He then retired to Mount Vernon, to enjoy again the pleasures of domes- tic life. Here the expressions of the gratitude of his countrymen, in affectionate addresses, poured in upon him, and he received every testimony of respect and veneration. In his retirement, however, he could not overlook the public interests. He was desirous of opening, by water carriage, a communication between the Atlantic and the western portions of our country, in order to prevent the diversion of trade down the Mississippi, and to Canada ; from which he predicted consequences injurious to the un- nion. Through his influence, two companies were formed for promoting inland navigation. The legislature of Vir- ginia presented him with three hundred shares in them, which he appropriated to public uses. In the year 1786, he Was convinced, with other statesmen, of the necessity of substituting a more vigorous general government in the place of the inlpotent articles of confederation. Still he was aware of the danger of running from one extreme to another. He exclaims in a letter to Mr. Jay, ' What aston- ishing changes a few years are capable of producing ! I am told, that even respectable characters speak of a monarchi- cal form of government without horFor. From thinking proceeds speaking ; thence to acting is often but a single step. But how irrevocable, and tremendous ! What a triumph for our enemies to verify their predictions ! What a, triumph for the advocates of despotism, to find that we are incapable of governing ourselves, and that systems, founded on the basis of equal liberty, are merely ideal and fallacious.' In the following year, he was persuaded to take a seat in the convention, which formed the present constitution of the United States ; and he presided in that body. In 1789, he was unanimously elected the first President of 4 38 WASHINGTON. the United State?. It was with great reluctance, that ho accepted this office. His feehngs as he said himself, were like those of a culprit, going to the place of execution. But the voice of a whole continent, the pressing recom- mendation of his particular friends, and the apprehension, that he would otherwise be considered as unwilling to haz- ard his reputation in executing a system, which he had as- sisted in forming, determined him to accept the appoint- ment. In April he left Mount Vernon to proceed to New- York, and to enter on the duties of his high office. He every where received testimonies of respect and love. At Trenton, the gentler sex rew^arded him for his successful enterprise, and the protection which he afforded them twelve years before. On the bridge over the creek, which passes through the town, was erected a triumphal arch, or- namented with laurels and flowers, and supported by thir- teen pillars, each encircled with wreaths of evergreen. On the front of the arch was inscribed, in large gilt letters, THE DEFENDER OF THE MOTHERS WILL BE THE PROTECTOR OF THE DAUGHTERS. At this place he was met by a party of matrons, leading their daughters who were dressed in white, and who, with baskets of flowers in their hands, sung with exquisite sweetness the following ode, written for the occasion :— Welcome, mighty chief, once more Welcome to this grateful shore ; Now no mercenary foe Aims again the fatal blow, Aims at thee the fatal blow. Virgins fair and matrons grave, Those thy conquering arms did save, Build for thee triumphal bowers ; Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers, Strew your hero's way with flowers. At Uie last line the flowers were strewed before him. After receiving such proofs of affectionate attachment, he arrived at New- York, and was inaugurated first president of the United States on the thirtieth of April. In making the ne- cessary arrrangements of his household he publicly announ- ced, that neither visits of business nor of ceremony would be expected on Sunday, as he wished t© reserve that day sacred- ly to himself" WASHINGTON. 39 At the close of his first term of four years, he prepared a valedictory address to the American people, anxious to re- turn again to the scenes of domestic life ; but the earnest entreaties of his friends, and the peculiar situation of his country, induced him to be a candidate for a second election. During his administration of eight years, the labor of estab- lishing the different departments of a new government was accomplished ; and he exhibited the greatest firmness, wisdom, and independence. He was an American, and he chose not to involve his coimtry in the contests of Eu- rope. He accordingly, with the unanimous advice of his cabinet, consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, Hamilton, Knox, and Randolph, issued a proclamation of neutrality, April 22, 1793, a few days after he heard of the commencement of the war between England and Frar^ce. This measure con- tributed, in a great degree, to the prosperity of America. Its adoption was the more honorable to the president, as the general sympathy was in favor of the sister republic, against whom it was said Great Britain had commenced the war for the sole purpose of imposing upon her a monarchical form of government. He preferred the peace and welfare of his country to the breath of popular applause. Another act, in which he proved himself to be less regardful of the public partialities and prejudices, than of what he conceived to be the public good, was the ratification of the British treaty. The English government had neglected to surrender the western posts, and by commercial restrictions, and in other ways, had evinced a hostile spirit towards this country, To avert the calamity of another war, Mr. Jay was nomina- ted as envoy extraordinary in April, 1794. In June, 1796, the treaty, which Mr. Jay had made, was submitted to the senate, and was ratified by that body on the condition, that one article should be altered. — While the president was de- liberating upon it, an incorrect copy of the instrument was made public by a senator, and the whole country was thrown into a state of extreme irritation. At this period, he, in August, conditionally ratified it, and in February, 1796, when it was returned from his Britannic Majesty with the proposed alteration, he declared it to be the law of the land. After this transaction the house of representatives request- ed him to lay before them the papers relating to the treaty, but he with great independence refused to comply with their request, as they could have no claim to an inspection of Chem except upon a vote of impeachment, and as a compli- 40 WASHINGTON. ance would establish a dangerous precedent. He had be- fore this shown a disposition to maintain the authority, vest- ed in his office, by declining to affix his signature to a bill which had passed both houses. As the period for a new election of a President of the United States approached, and after plain indications that the public voice would be in his favor, and when he probably would be chosen for the third time unanimously, he deter- mined irrevocably to withdraw to the shades of private life. He published, in September, 1796, his farewell address to the people of the United States, which ought to be engraven upon the hearts of his countrymen. In the m.ost earnest and affectionate manner he called upon them to cherish an im- moveable attachment to the national union, to watch for its preservation with jealous anxiety, to discountenance even the suggestion, that it could in any event be abandoned, and indignantly to frown upon the first dawning of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest. Over- grown military establishments he represented as particularly hostile to republican liberty. — While he recommended the most implicit obedience to the acts of the established gov- ernment, and reprobated all obstructions to the execution of the laws, all combinations and associations, under whatever "plausible character, with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and action of the constituted authorities ; he wished also to guard against the spirit of innovation upon the principles of the constitu- tion. Aware that the energy of the system might be enfee- bled by alterations, he thought that no change should be made without an evident necessity, and that in so exten- sive a country as much vigor as is consistent with liberty is indispensable. On the other hand, he pointed out the dan- ger of a real despotism by breaking down the partitions be- Uveen the several departments of government,'by destroy- ing the reciprocal checks, and consolidating the different powers. Against the spirit of party, so peculiarly baneful in an elective government, he uttered his most solemn re- monstrances, as well as against inveterate antipathies or pas- sionate attachments in respect to foreign nations. While he thought that the jealousy of a free people ought to be constantly and impartially awake against the insidious wiles of foreign influence, he wished that good faith and justice should be observed towards all nations, and peace and har- mony cultivated. In his opinion, honesty, nq less in publi*;' WASHINGTON. 41 than in private affairs, is always the best policy. Provi- dence, he believed, had connected the permanent felicity of a nation with its virtue. Other subjects, to which he allu- ded, were the importance of credit, of economy, of a reduc- tion of the public debt, and of literary institutions ; above all he recommended rehgion and morality as indispensably necessary to political prosperity. — " In vain," says he " would that man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should labor to subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of the duties of men and citizens." Be- queathing these counsels to his countrymen he continued in office till the fourth of March, 1797, when he attended the inauguration of his successor, Mr. Adams, and with complacency saw him invested with the powers, which Lud for so long a time been exercised by himself He then re- tired to Mount Vernon, giving to the world an example, most humiliating to its emperors and kings ; the example of a man, voluntarily disrobing himself of the highest authori- ty, and returning to private life with a character, having up- on it no stain of ambition, of covetousness, of profusion, of luxury, of oppression, or of injustice. It was now that the soldier, the statesman and the patriot, hoped to repose himself, after the toils of so many years. But he had not been long in retirement, before the outra- ges of Republican France induced our government to raise an army, of which, in July, 1798, he was appointed com- mander in chief Though he accepted the appointment, his services were not demanded, and he himself did not be- lieve that an invasion would take place. Pacific overtures were soon made by the French Directory ; but he did not. live to see the restoration of peace. On Friday, December 13, 1799, while attending to some improvements upon his estate, he was exposed to a light rain, which wetted Ins neck and hair. Unapprehent^ive of danger, he passed the afternoon in his usual manner ; but at night he was seized with an inflammatory affection of the windpipe. The dis» ease commenced with a violent ague, accompanied with some pain, and a sense of stricture in the throat, a coughj and a difficult deglutition ; which were soon succeeded hf fever, and a quick and laborious respiration. About twelve or fourteen ounces of blood were taken from him. In the morning, his family physician, Doctor Craik, was sent for ; but the utmost exertions of medical skill were applied iJi, vain. The appointed time of his death was near. Be]ieve 4* 42 WASHINGTON. ing from the commencement of his complaint that it would be mortal, a few hours before his departure, after repeated efforts to be understood, he succeeded in expressing a de- sire that he might be permitted to die, without being disqui' eted by unavaihng attempts to rescue him from his fate. Af- ter it became impossible to get any thing down his throat, he undressed himself and went to bed, there to die. To his friend and physician, who sat on his bed, and took his head in his lap, he said with difficulty, ' Doctor, 1 am dying, and have been dying for a long time ; but I am not afraid to die.' Respiration became more and more contracted and imperfect, until half past eleven on Saturday night, when, retaining the full possession of his intellect, he expired with- out a struggle. Thus, on the fourteenth of December, 1799, in the sixty-eighth year of his age, died the father of his country, ' The man, first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens.' This event spread a gloom over the country , and the tears of America proclaim- ed the services and virtues of the hero and sage, and ex- hibited a people, not insensible to his worth. The senate of the United States, in an address to the president on this melancholy occasion, indulged their patriotic pride, while they did not transgress the bounds of truth, in speaking of their WASHINGTON. ' Ancient and modern names,* said they, ' are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt have too often been allied ; but his fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood abashed at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intemperance of their ambition, and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene is closed, and we are no longer anxious lest misfor- tune should sully his glory ; he has travelled on to the end of his journey, and carried with him an increasing weight of honor ; he has deposited it safely where misfortune can- not tarnish it, where malice cannot blast it.' Gen. Washington was ratlier above the common stature ; hi5 frame was robust, and his constitution vigorous. Hi>s exterior created in the beholder the idea of strength united with manly gracefulness. His eyes were of a gray colour, and his complexion light. His manners were rather reser- ved than free. His person and whole deportment exhibited an unaffected and indescribable dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all, who approached him, were sensi- ble, The attachment of those, who possessed his friend- k^hr|> Was ardent, but always respectful^ HiB temper wsiis WASHINGTON. 4^ humane, benevolent, and conciliatory ; but there was quickness in his sensibility to any thing apparently offensive, which experience had taught him to watch and correct. He made no pretensions to vivacity or wit. Judgment, rather than genius constituted the most prominent feature of his character. As a military man he was brave, enterprising, an^ cautious. At the head of a multitude, whom it was sometimes impossible to reduce to proper discipline before the expiration of their time of service, and having to strug- gle almost continually with the want of supplies, he yet was able to contend with an adversary superior in numbers, well disciplined, and completely equipped, and was the means of saving his country. The measure of his caution has by some been represented as too abundant ; but he sometimes formed a plan, which his brave officers thought was too ad- venturous, and sometimes contrary to their advice lie enga- ged in battle. If his name is not rendered illustrious by splen- did achievments, it is not to be attributed to the want of military enterprise. He conducted the war with that con- !;ummate prudence and wisdom, which the situation of his country and the state of his army demanded. He also pos- sessed a firmness of resolution, which neither dangers nor difficulties could shake. In his civil administration he ex- hibited repeated proofs of that practical good sense, of that sound judgment, which is the most valuable quality of the human mind. More than once he put his whole popularity to hazard in pursuing measures, which were dictated by a sense of duty, and which he thought would promote the welfare of his country. In speculation he was a real repub- lican, sincerely attached to the constitution of the United States, and to tliat system of equal, political rights, on which it is founded. R«al liberty, he thought, was to be preserved only by preserving tlie authority of the laws, and maintaining the energy of government. Of incorruptible integrity, his ends were always upright, and the means which he employed, were always pure. He was a politician, to wliom wiles were absolutely unknown. When any meas- ure of importance was proposed, he sought information and was ready to hear, without prejudice, whatever could be said in relation to the subject ; he suspended his judgment till it was necessary to decide ; but after his decision had been thus deliberately made, it was seldom shaken, and he was as active and persevering in executing, as he had been cool in forming it. JHe poss«sse4 an innate and unassum- 44 WASHINGTON. ing modesty, which adulation would have offended, wliicli the plaudits of millions could not betray into indiscretion, and which was blended with a high sense of personal digni- ty, and a just consciousness of the respect, which is due to station. With regard to the religious character of Gen. Washing- ton, there have been different opinions. In the extracts from some of his private letters, which have been published by the historian of his life, the name of the Supreme Being is once or twice introduced in a manner, which in common conversation is deemed irreverent. It is also understood, that in a few instances during the war, particularly when ho met Gen. Lee retreating in the battle of Monmouth, his lan- guage was unguarded in this respect. It may not be im- possible, that a good man in a moment of extreme irritation should utter a profane expression ; but perhaps it is less possible, that such a man, when liis passion has passed away, and his sober recollections have returned, should not re- pent bitterly of his irreverence to the name of God. On the other hand. Gen. Washington, when at the head of the army, issued public orders, calling upon his officers to dis- countenance the habit of profanity ; he speaks in hi-s wri- tings of the " pure and benign light of revelation," and of the necessity of imitating " the charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind, which were the characteristics of the Di- vine Author of our blessed religion ;" he grateially ac- knowledged the interpositions of Providence in favor of this country ; his life was upright and virtuous ; he principally supported an episcopal church in the neighborhood of Mount Vernon, where he constantly attended public worship ; dur- ing the v/ar he not unfrequently rode ten or twelve miles from camp for the benefit of the institutions of religion ; and it is believed, that he every day had his hour of retirement ti'om the world for the purpose of private devotion. Gen. Washington was blessed with abundant wealth, and he was not ignorant of the pleasure of employing it for gen- erous purposes. His style of living was dignified, though he maintained the strictest economy. While he was in the army he wrote to the superintendant of his estate in the fol- lowing terms. "Let the hospitality of the house be kept up with regard to the poor. Let no one go hungry away. If any of this sort of people should be in want of corn, sup- ply their necessities, provided it does not encourage them in idleness. I have no objection to your giving my money ia WASHINGTON. 45 charity, when you think it will be well bestowed ; I mean, that it is my desire, that it should be done. You are to consider, that neither myself nor my wife are in the way to do these good offices." Thus was he beneficent, while at the same time he required an exact compliance with en- gagements. A pleasing proof of the generous spirit, which governed him, is exhibited in his conduct towards the son of his friend, the Marquis de La Fayette. The marquis, after fighting in this country for American liberty, had re- turned to France ; but in the convulsions of the French revolution he was exiled and imprisoned in Germany. Gen- eral Washington gave evidence of sincere attachment to the unhappy nobleman, not only by exerting all his influence to procure his release from confinement, but by extending his patronage to his son, who made his escape from France, anil arrived with his tutor at Boston, in 1795. As soon as he was informed of his arrival, he wrote to a friend, requesting him to visit the young gentleman and make him acquainted with the relations between this country and France, which would prevent the president of the United States from pub- licly espousmg his interest, but to assure him of his protec- tion and support. He also directed this friend to draw on him for money to defray all the expenses, which young La Fayette might incur. Towards his slaves Gen. Washing- ton manifested the greatest care and kindness. Their ser- vitude lay with weight upon liis mind, and he directed in his will, that they should be emancipated on the decease of his wife. There were insuperable difficulties in the way oi' their receiving freedom previously to this event. On the death of Mrs Washington, May 22d, 1802, the estate of Gen. Washington, as he had no children, was divided ac- oording to his will among his and her relations. It amount- ed by his own estimate, to more than five hundred thousand dollars."** JOHN ADASaS, ZSSQ. Second President of the United States. It has often been remarked, that the history of the lifi^ of a private man, however distinguished he may have be^o ''■• Allen's Biographical Dictionary. 46 ADAMS. for virtue and intelligence, furnishes less interest to the rea- der, than that of one, who, although possessed of inferior endowments, has passed his life in public employment. A similar remark may be applied to the two great classes of public men — one, devoted to the almost unobserved exer- tions of wisdom in council, — and the other, to all that is attractive and splendid in war. The subject of this memoir, was not a warrior ; he was a statesman ; who during the arduous struggle for the inde- pendence of the United States, acted a most prominent and responsible part in the councils of his country, and after it was obtained, filled the highest offices in the power of that country to bestow. John Adams, was born in the town of Braintree, now cal- led Quincy, in the state of Massachusetts, on the 19th of October, 1734, and was a descendant of the first families who founded the colony of Massachusetts Bay. After re- ceiving the best education which the means of the country at that time could afford, he commenced the profession of Law, and by his abilities and integrity, he soon commanded the respect and confidence of his fellow citizens. He arose to the highest rank at the bar; but not content wi^i sup- porting the rights of individuals only, he zealously entered into the defence of the rights and liberties of his country at large, and in his early life wrote a dissertation on the canon and feudal laws ; a work well adapted to confound the sup- porters of either civil or ecclesiastical tyranny. It evinced not only the talents and patriotism of the writer, but excited a deep sensation in the minds of the whole community, on the subject of their dependence upon England for every thing that was dear and invaluable. Notwithstanding his zed and firmness, displayed in the defence of the liberties of his country, against the encroach- ments of Great Britain ; he was, with that distinguished pat- riot, Mr. Quincy, employed to defend Capt. Preston of the British forces, who had ]3een imprisoned for the massacre of some of the citizens of Boston, on the memorable 5th of March, 1770. Called upon by his professional duties, lie boldly stood forth, as his advocate ; and although his client's cause was most unpopular, — the whole town of Boston be- ing exceedingly irritated at the conduct of Governor Hutch- inson, and that of the troops under his command, he con- ducted the trial with so much address and ability, that Capt. Preston was finally acquitted : thus proving to England that ADAMS. 47 Massachusetts would be humane and just to their enemies, amidst the grossest insults and provocations. In the man- agement of this cause, delicate and unpleasant as his situa- tion was, he never lost sight of the true interests of his coun- try, and while contending for humanity and justice in behalf of his client, he manifested all that firmness of mind, disin- terested and enlightened patriotism, which has ever since marked his conduct during a long and honorable course of public life. Mr. Adams, for several years continued not only distin- guished in his professional pursuits, but particularly signal- ized for the early and active part he took in asserting and maintaining the rights and liberties of his country. Though younger by several years than James Otis, Samuel Adams, John Hancock and other ardent and determined patriots, he was associated with them in council to devise and re- commend such measures as would best promote the inter- ests of the colonies. At the bar, in popular assemblies, and through the press, he, in conjunction with those distinguish- ed men, exerted every means in his power, to arouse the at- tention of his fellow citizens to the dangers which threaten- ed their liberties. It was through their exertions, that the feelings of Americans were awakened to a sense of their situation. As early as 1760, resistance to the oppressive acts of the British Government were made, not indeed with arrifts, but by remonstrances, arguments and a firm determin- ation on the part of the people to abstain from purchasing or consuming such articles as would yield a profit to Eng- land at the expense of the Colonies. Mr. Adams, in some of his late letters, has gone so far as to say, that the purest period of patriotism, was from 1760, to 1766, and that the war from 1775, to 1783, was not a revolutionary war, for the revolution was completed in the minds of tlie people, and the union of the Colonies before the war commenced in the skirmishes of Concord and Lexington on the 1 9th A- pril 1775. During this eventful period from 1760 to 1774, the lead- ing men of the country from Massachusetts to Georgia, were actively engaged in devising measures to emancipate the country from the thraldom of oppressive and tyrannical laws. Although then a nation of feeble Colonies, compo- sed of hardly three millions of inhabitants, and separated by rivers, forests and mountains, hardly passable, means were found by which the sentiments and feelings ♦f the people throughout the coiuitry were ascertained. 48 ADAMS. Th6 throwing overboard of the tea at Boston, the wantojl bloodshed at Concord and Lexington, together with various other acts of mihtary outrage committed by the British, had now prepared the minds of the colonists to become freemen, and no longer to live as slaves. Accordingly, although % Congress had been for years occasionally held, to transact the ordinary business under the King's government, it was determined by the several Colonies to appoint delegates to meet at Philadelphia, to consider and adopt such measures as their critical situation required. In prosecuting a sketch of the life of this now venerable patriot, it may perhaps be useful to notice some of the prin- cipal measures adopted by the delegates in congress, previ- ous to the declaration of independence, in which he took a very active and responsible part. The first congress of delegates, appointed by the Colonies to take into consideration their actual situation in respect to Great Britain, and the dift'erences subsisting between the two countries, was held at Carpenter's Hall, in the city of Philadelphia, on the 5th of September, 1774. That body consisted of delegates from New-Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode-Island, Providence plantations, Connecticut, from the city and county of New-York, and some other coun- ties in the province of New-York, New- Jersey, Pennsylva- nia, New-Castle, Kent, and Sussex on Delaware, Maryland, Virginia, and from South-Carolina. Peyton Randolph((ipf Virginia, was unanimously elected president of the con- gress ; and Charles Thomson, who, for so many years af- terwards, with great honour to himself and benefit to his country, filled the same office, was unanimously chosen sec- retary. The day after they adopted rules for debating and determining questioijs. 1. Each colony or province had one vote. 2. No person could speak more than twice with- out leave. 3. No question could be determined the day on which it was agitated and debated, if any of the colonies de- sired the determination to be postponed to another day. 4. The door was to be kept shut during the time of business, and the members to consider themselves under the strong- est obhgations of honor to keep the proceedings secret un- til the majority should direct them to be made publick. Committees were appointed to state the rights of the colo- nies, and inquire whether any, and if any, wherein those jrights had been violated or infringed, and also to suggest the means most proper to be pursued for obtaining a resto- ADAMS. 49 ration of them. The congress was opened by prayer, a reverential formality that was subsequently observed. The citizens of Philadelphia afforded every means in their power to aid the delegates in the discharge of their arduous duties. The public libraries were thrown open to their use, and men of business and knowledge rendered every service in their power to assist and enlighten this venerable body of men. On the 14th of September delegates from North- Carolina took their seats. During the same month, it was unanimous- ly resolved, that the congress request the merchants and others in the several colonies, not to send to Great Britain any orders for goods, but to suspend their execution, until the sense of the congress, on the means to be taken for the preservation of the liberties of America, should be made public. Other resolutions followed in rapid succession, one prohibiting the importation of any goods, wares or mer- chandise from Great Britain or Ireland, and that they should not be used or purchased if imported, and another that, af- ter the 10th of September, 1775, the exportation of all mer- chandise, and every commodity whatsoever, to Great Bri- tian, Ireland and the West Indies ought to cease, unless the grievances of America should be redressed before that time. This congress also by a committee addressed a spir- ited letter to General Gage, representing that the town of Boston and province of Massachusetts Bay, were consider- ed by all America as suffering in the common cause, for their noble and spirited opposition to the oppressive acts of parliament calculated to divest the American people of their most sacred rights and privileges. On the 20th of October the non-importation, non-consumption and non-exportation agreement was adopted and signed by the delegates com- posing the congress. This agreement contained a clause to discontinue the slave trade, and a provision not to import East-India tea from any part of the world. An address to the people of Great Britain, and to those of her colonies, was also approved. In the same month a petition to the king was adopted, setting forth tlie grievances of the colonies, and asking for a redress of them. To the inhabitants of Quebec, in particular, a letter was addressed, breathing the spirit of sympathy in suffering, and inviting them to act in union with them in resistance to oppression. On the 10th of May, 1775, delegates from the sailne sev- eral colonies, with the exception of Rhode Island, assembled 5 50 ADAMS. at the State House in Philadelphia, when Peyton Randolph was, a second time, unanimously chosen President, and Charles Thompson unanimously chosen Secretary. On the 13th of May a delegate from Georgia, chosen by the Parish of St. Johns, was admitted to a seat in congress ; but not considering himself as the representative of the whole colony, he declined voting, except on occasions when congress did not vote by colonies. The name of this ardent patriot was Lyman Hall. The Colony of Rhode Island, who had re- fused to send a delegate at the opening of the present ses- sion of Congress, about this time altered their determination, and Lemuel Ward, from that colony, appeared and was per- mitted to take his seat. Such was the second congress, composed of the delegates from the then twelve, now in- creased to twenty-four free and independent states. During this session, many important acts, preparatory to the eventful period which soon after arrived, were adopted. Every resolve was passed by an unanimous vote. Among others, a resolution was passed prohibiting all exportations to duebec. Nova Scotia, East and West Florida, and Geor- gia, with the exception of the Parish of St. Johns, which was undoubtedly made as a token of respect for the patriotism of that section of the colony. Mr. Randolph, then President of Congress, being under a necessity of returning home, the chair became vacant, and John Hancock was unanimously elected President. Congress resolved that the colonies be immediately put in a state of defence ; that a fresh petition to the king, with a view to reconcile differences, be prepar- ed ; and that a letter to the people of Canada, Ireland, and Jamaica, be reported. On the 7th of June it was resolved that the 20th day of July following should be observed, throughout the twelve united colonies, as a day of humiliation, fasting and prayer. Resolutions were also passed for the collection of saltpetre and sulphur, and the manufacture of gunpowder. It was also resolved to raise several companies of riflemen by enlistment for one year, to serve in the Amer- ican Continental Army ; the pay of officers and privates was established, and rules and regulations, for the govern- ment of the army, were adopted. On the 15th of June, it was resolved that a general should be appointed, to command all the continental forces raised, or to be raised, in defence of American liberty, and after having proceeded to a choice by ballot, George Washihgton was declared to be elected by an unanimous vote. A com- ADAMS. 51 mission, in the name of the twelve colonies, dated Philadel- phia, June 17th, 1775, signed by the President and attested by the Secretary, was accordingly delivered to him, the orig- inal of which is now preserved in the Department of State, in Washington City. Congress, at the same time, resolved that they would maintain, assist, and adhere to George Washington, with their lives and fortunes, in the cause of American freedom. These warlike measures were adopted in consequence of the military proceedings of the British at Lexington, in Mas- sachusetts ; of the burning of Charlestown, near Boston, and of the various indications, on the part of Great Britain, of an intention to compel the colonies to submit to her tyrannical decrees, by force of arms. Various other measures were adopted by that distinguished body of men, to meet the exi- gency of the times. In the latter part of July the Colony of Georgia signified her wishes to join the association, and ap- pointed delegates to attend the congress ; thus the thirteen states were at length united in one common bond, to sustain their liberties, or perish in the attempt. It was during this session, also, that the first line of posts, for the communication of intelligence through the United States, was established. Benjamin Franklin was appointed, by an unanimous vote, Post-Master-General, with power to appoint as many deputies as he might deem proper and necessary, for the conveyance of the mail from Falmouth, in New-England, to Savannah, in Georgia. On the first of August, congress adjourned to the 5th Sep- tember, 1775, after having declared that the non-importation and non-exportation resolves should comprise, not only the countries already mentioned, but should extend to every island and settlement within the latitude of the southern line of Georgia and the equator. Previous to their adjourn- ment, however. Congress had also taken proper steps to secure the important posts of Crown Point and Ticonderoga. On the 5th of September, 1775, agreeably to adjourn- ment, congress again convened, but did not form a quorum to do business until the 13th, when delegates from Georgia appeared, produced their credentials, and took their seats. During this session the same system of warlike measures were pursued as had been commenced in the last. Fortifi- cations were ordered to be repaired : letters to and from the delegates were authorised to pass and be carried free of postage; and a similar privilege was extended to all letters to m ADAMS, and from the commander in chief of the continental army, or the chief commander in the northern mihtary depart- ment. Resolutions were passed recommending to the seve- ral provincial assemblies, their councils and committees of safety, to arrest and secure all persons in their respective ©olonies, whose going at large might, in their opinion, en- danger the safety of the colony, or the liberties of America. In December it was determined to fit out a naval armament, to consist of thirteen ships, five of thirty-two guns, and also to emit bills of credit to the amount of three millions of dol- lars. In January 1776, regulations were adopted relative to the division of prizes and prize money, taken by armed vessels, among officers and men. The trade with the Indians was put upon a new footing ; and it was recommended to credi- tors, who had claims against persons in the army or navy, for less than thirty-five dollars, not to arrest the debtors until tlieir term of service had expired. On the 17th of February, a standing committee of five was appointed to superintend the treasury ; and congress directed the emission of the farther sum of four millions of dollars in bills of credit ; a resolution was adopted recom- mending to the several colonies to disarm all disaffected per- sons ; and another, on the 21st of March, urging the several provincial assemblies to exert their utmost endeavours to promote the cultivation of hemp, flax, and cotton, and the growth of wool ; to take the earliest measures for the im- provement of agriculture, arts, manufactures and commerce, and forthwith to introduce and improve the means of manu- facturing duck, sail cloth, and steel. Private armed vessels were also about this period of time authorised. On the Gth of April the importation of slaves was expressly prohibited, and it was recommended to the council of safety of Mary- land, to cause the person and papers of Governor Eden to be seized and secured, in consequence of a belief that he was engaged in a correspondence with the British ministers, highly dangerous to the liberties of America. Bounty was allowed for the enlistment of sailors, and on the 10th of May it was resolved that ten millions of dollars should be raised for carrying on the war for the year 1776, and measures were taken for treating with the Indians. On the 15th of May a resolution, concerning the safety of the liberty of the colo- nies, was passed, the preamble of which stated the intention totally to suppress the exercise of every kind of authority ADAMS. 53 under the British Crown. On the 7th of June certain reso- lutions, respecting independency, were moved and seconded, and a few days afterwards it was resolved that a committee, on this momentous subject, should be appointed. This com- mittee consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benja- min Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston. Other committees were also appointed to prepare and digest a form of confederation, to be entered into between the colo- nies, and also to prepare plans of treaties to be entered into between foreign nations. A board of war and ordnance was established. On the 25th, a declaration of the deputies of Pennsylvania, met in their provincial conference, expressing their willino-ness to concur in a vote declarinor the united colonies free and independent states, was laid before con- gress and read. Maryland, also, through her convention, authorised their deputies to concur in declaring the colonies to be free and independent. On the '2d of July a resolution, declaring the colonies free and independent states, was adopt- ed. A declaration to that effect was, on the same and following days, taken into further consideration ; and final ly, on the 4th of July, the declaration of independence was agreed to, signed, and directed to be sent to the several as- semblies, conventions, and committees or councils of safety, and to the several commanding officers of the continental troops, and to be proclaimed in each of the United States, and at the head of the army. This summary of the principal acts of the congress of delegates immediately preceding the declaration of inde- pendence, it is believed, could no where be given, with more propriety, than under the name of the illustrious individual who is the subject of the present sketch. In all these im- portant measures, he took a very active part, and was par- ticularly distinguished for the firmness, knowledge, and eloquence which he displayed in that dignified and patriotic body. He had so long been engaged in the cause of liberty that he had become perfectly familiar with every topjc that could be brought into discussion ; for so long ago as 1761, he had, in the ardour of youthful patriotism, as has been already mentioned, associated himself with James Otis, Samuel Adams, and other great men, in opposition to the arbitrary and oppressive measures which were, even at that early period, pursued by Great Britain towards this country. Some idea of the feelings which prevailed, at that time may be conceived from an extract of a letter, written by 6i Al)AMS. President Adams, to Judge Tudor. The letter professes to give an account of the great trial of the question as to the constitutionality of lorits of assistance, which were then attempted to be put in force, but were resisted by the colo- nists. The trial came on in the month of February, 1761, in the old Town House, in Boston. The court consisted of five judges, with Lieutenant-Governor Hutchinson at their head, as chief justice. He had been recently appointed, and every observing and thinking man knew that this ap- pointment was made for the express purpose of deciding this question in favour of the crown, as well as all others, in which it should be interested. An alarm was spread far and wide. The merchants of Salem and Boston resolved to defend themselves against this terrible menacing monster, the writ of assistance. James Otis, and others, undertook their cause. Great fees were offered, but they would accept of none. " In such a cause," said they, " we despise all fees." After briefly noticing the arguments of counsel, on both sides, President Adams breaks forth in the following glowing language : — " But Otis was a flame of fire ! With a promptitude of classical allusions, a depth of research, a rapid summary of historical events and dates, a profusion of legal authorities, a prophetic glare of his eyes into futurity, and a rapid torrent of impetuous eloquence, he hurried away all before him. American Independence was then and there horn. The seeds of patriots and heroes, to defend the vig- orous youth, were then and there sown. Every man, of aa immense crowded audience, appeared to me to go away as I did, ready to take arms against writs of assistance. Then, and there, was the first scene of the first act of opposition to the arbitrary claims of Great Britain ; then, and there, the child Independence was born. In fifteen years, i. e. in 1776, he grew up to manhood, and declared himself free." With such feelings, and after so many years of resistance to the encroachments of Great Britain, it may easily be con- ceived with what joy, gratitude and patriotism, he entered the Congress of delegates, which had, for the first time, met, for the sole purpose of taking into consideration the subsist- inir differences between the colonies and Great Britain, and to devise measures for the deliverance of his country. When congress, finding no otlier alternative left, declared the colonies absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, it may well be supposed that every heart beat high with the spirit of liberty and independence. The confidence and ADAMS. 55 enthusiasm, which Mr. Adams then felt in the cause, were fully manifested in the following letter, written by him at Philadelphia, in the genuine spirit of prophecy, on the 5th of July, 1776, the day after the declaration of independence, to a friend in Boston : — " Yesterday, the greatest question was decided, which was ever debated in America, and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided among men. A resolution was pas- sed, without one dissenting colony, " THAT THESE UNITED STATES ARE, AND OF RIGHT OUGHT TO BE, FREE AND INDEPENDENT STATES." " The day is past. The 4th of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe it icill be celebrated, by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemo- rated as the DAY OF deliverance, by solemn acts of devo- tion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomp, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonjires and illumi- nations FROM ONE END OF THE CONTINENT TO THE OTHER^ from this time forioard forever C'' Mr. Adams continued a member of the congress of dele- gates, and for some time was one of the committee to whom was committed the controul of the War Department. He was actively engaged as one of the principal advisers on every important measure adopted. He was one of the first to advise the making of overtures to the French government for the formation of a treaty of commerce and alliance against the common enemy. Great Britain, and in order to effect so desirable an object he was sent to France, as one of the ministers plenipotentiary of the United States. He returned, in 1779, to Massachusetts, and assisted his fellow- citizens in framing a constitution of government for that commonwealth. He was soon after appointed, by congress, to return to Europe, with full powers to assist at any confer- ence, which might be opened, for the establishment of peace ; and not long after was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary at the Hague, with authority to negociate a loan of money with the Dutch government, for the use of the Unitea States. In the execution of these highly important offices, he proved himself not unworthy of the confidence reposed in him, by the able and satisfactory manner in which he tulfilled them. While performing these several duties in Europe, so import- ant to the United States, he rendered others, in his inter- course with distinguished and influential men in Europe., 5(r ADAMS. which were of great service to his country. It was during this period of his residence in Europe, also, that he publish- ed his learned and celebrated work, well known by the name ef Adams'' Defence, which was intended as a defence of the constitution of the government of the United States, against certain attacks which had been made upon it by the friends of monarchy and despotism in Europe. After the capture of the British army, under Lord Corn- wallis at Yorktown, the British Government signified their wishes for an accommodation with America. Commission- ers were accordingly appointed, of which Mr. Adams was one to effect so desirable an object, and on the thirtieth of November, 1782, provisional articles of peace were agreed upon and signed by John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, John Jay, and Henry Laurens, on the part of the United States ; and by Richard Oswald on the part of Great Britain. These articles were to be considered as the basis of a future treaty to be finally concluded between the parties, whenever peace should take place between Great Britain and France. By these articles, how^ever, the Independence of the Unit- ed States was acknowledged, and all, under the then exist- ing circumstances, that could be reasonably expected by them, was obtained. All difficulties being removed, the definitive treaty be- tween the two countries, was at length signed at Paris, on the third day of September,' 1783, by John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, and John Jay, on the part of the United States ; and David Hartley, on the part of Great Britain. To the great benefit ofbothnations,peace was thus happily established, and Mr. Adams was not long after appointed Minister to the Court of St. James. This was a new and trying situation, as well as a very delicate one, especially for him, who had taken so distinguished a part in the struggle for independ- ence. He was placed, as a representative to the British Government, of a people now recognized as free and inde- pendent ; but who had been, for the seven preceding years, stigmatized and denounced as rebels and traitors, by that very government. His feelings were described in a letter of his to a friend in America, written soon after a great Levee was held by the King, to which all the ministers of foreign powers were in- vited, and himself amon;T the rest, for the first time to be introduced, as Ambassador of the United States. The cere- monies were conducted with great pomp and show. The ADAMS. 57 ministers of the oldest and most powerful nations, were of course one by one presented, while he, with those of Swe- den, Denmark, and others of the secondary grade, were to await their turn in this part of the ceremony. He knew not what sort of reception he should be met with by his Ma- jesty, but presumed it would be a cold and formal one. The ambassadors from Sweden and Denmark, supported him by their encouragements, though they felt themselves to be in the same uneasy situation as he was ; at length, though last, he was introduced in due form, and contrary to his expecta- tion, met with a most gracious reception, — the King, amoijg other things, said, that as he was the last to acknowledge the independence of the States, so he would be the last to in- fringe it. Mr. Adams remained some years in London in his above- mentioned capacity ; during which time, among other acts performed in the service of his country, he with Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson, ministers plenipotentiary appointed for that purpose, concluded a treaty of amity and commerce between the King of Prussia and the United States of America. During his residence in England, he used every exertion to strengthen the bonds of peace be- tween the two countries, and he discharged the hiorh duties with which he was entrusted, in such a manner, as to excite the marked respect of the one, and the gratitude of the other. Judge Tudor, in his Life of Otis, relates the following in- teresting anecdote : " When president Adams was minister at the Court of St. James, he often saw his countryman, Benjamin West, the late president of the Royal Academy. Mr. West ahvays retained a strong and unyielding affection for his native land. Mr. West one day asked Mr. Adams, if he should like to take a walk with him, and see the cause of the American revolution. The minister, having known something of this matter, smiled at the proposal, but told him that he should be glad to see the cause of that revolution^ and to take a walk with his friend West any where. The next morninor he called according to acrreement, and took Mr. Adams into Hyde Park, to a spot near the Serpentine river, where he gave him the following narrative. The King came to the throne a young man, surrounded by flat- tering courtiers ; one of whose frequent topics it was, to declaim against the meanness of his palace, which was wholly unworthy a monarch of such a country as England. k 58 ADAMS. They said that there was not a monarch in Europe wli® was lodged so poorly ; that his sorry, dingy, old brick palace of St. James, looked like a stable, and that he ought to build a palace suitable to his kingdom. The King was fond of ar- chitecture, and would therefore listen to suggestions, which were in fact all true. This spot that you see here, was se- lected, for the site, between this and this point, which were marked out. The King applied to his ministers on the sub- ject ; they enquired what sum would be wanted by his ma- jesty, who said he would begin with a million : they stated the expenses of the war, and the poverty of the treasury, but that his majesty's wishes should be taken into full con- sideration. Some time afterwards, the King was informed, that the wants of the treasury were too urgent to admit of a supply from their present means, but that a revenue might be raised in America to supply the King's wishes. This suggestion was followed up, and the King was in this way first led to consider, and then to consent, to the scheme for taxing the colonies," In this manner the ministers of the King, took advantage of his favourite project of building a splendid palace, in order to carry into effect, their long con- templated designs of raising a revenue from the colonies. While thus employed in Europe, Mr. Adams was not for- gotten at home. Such eminent services rendered to his country, both at home and abroad, during so many years of oppression and war, as well as in peace ; and those by one possessed of uncommon abilities, and deeply versed in poli- tics and government, were not overlooked, but duly appre- eiated, by his countrymen. In 1789, he was called by the voice of his country, to fill the office of vice president of the United States ; General Washington having been chosen president. They were both reelected to the same offices at the expiration of the constitutional term of four years. In November, 171)6, General Washincrton havinrj determined to retire from public life, Mr. Adams was chosen President of the United States, in his place. To be appointed the successor of Washington, says a writer, and that, by the voice of the freemen of America, is sucli an unequivocal tes- timony of superior talents, virtue and patriotism, as renders eulogium superfluous. On assuming the duties of his oflice, on the fourth day of March, 1797, Mr. Adams found himself placed in a very critical, if not unpleasant situation. During the preceding eight years, great changes in the political world had taken ADAMS. 59 place ; the French revolution had been effected, which not only deluged France in blood, but filled all Europe with terror and dismay. The influence produced by this great event was most sensibly felt in this country. As early as April 22, 1793, a few days after information was received, that war had been commenced between Eno;- land and France, General Washington with the unanimous advice of his cabinet, issued a proclamation of neutrality. In consequence of these events the people of the United States became divided into two great political parties ; the one, viewed the French Revolution as the result of the ex- ertions of freemen, to throw off the yoke of despotism under which they and their ancestors had groaned for so many ages, and that instead of remaining neutral, the United States ought rather to assist them in their straggle for liber- ty. The other party beheld it in a very different light, not as that of a nation rising in her strength to maintain her - freedom and to establish equal laws, but as the offspring of an infuriated mob, led on by the most unprincipled dema- gogues, to accomplish their double objects of revenge and ambition. They had already brought their king to the scaf- fold, as well as thousands of their most virtuous and able citizens, and even driven into exile such men as La Fayette, and other early patriots and friends to rational freedom. This division of public opinion was greatly increased by the arrival of Mr. Genet, about this time, he being the first Minister Plenipotentiary from the Republic of France to the United States. His conduct is well known. Gen. Wash- ington requested of the French government his recal, which was granted, and Mr. Genet's conduct was disapproved by his government. Such was the origin of the two great parties, denominated federal and republican, which have, for so many years, dis- tracted and divided the citizens of the United States. At the time of Mr. Adams' election to the presidency, the peo- ple were nearly equally divided in their political opinions. Mr. Adams, therefore, was well aware that his administra- tion wou4d be a difficult and tempestuous one. The vio- lence of party spirit had already arisen to an alarming height, and seemed still to increase with the progress of time. The devastating wars, carried on in Europe, and which grew out of the French revolution, seemed more and more to excite the angry passions of the people. The republicans were ijiflueHced both by partiality for France and hatred to Eng- 60 ADAMS. land. The federalists looked upon the war, preseeuted hy France, to be, not a war for freedom and independence, but a war for universal dominion, and that England and the other powers were engaged merely in self-defence against the unbounded ambition of the rulers of France. The debates in Congress, although distinguished for abili- ty, were marked for acrimony and viiulence, that body being nearly equally divided as to its then political character. Insults were repeatedly offered by the French Directory to the United States, in the person of their Ministers, and their - commerce was harassed by illegal captures of their vessels. These indignities after a long endurance, and a rejection of all advances for an accommodation, together with a threaten- ed invasion of our country, at length roused the government in the hands of Mr. Adams, to adopt vigorous measures in self defence. Accordingly Congress authorized the forma- tion of a regular army, and the navy was increased and put on a more respectable footing than it heretofore had been. These spirited measures although they were loudly denoun- oed by the democratic party, as being worse than useless, produced the desired effect, — for not long after they were adopted, an indirect communication was made to Govern- ment, that France was ready and willing to accommodate all matters in dispute on the most reasonable terms. These overtures were embraced by Mr. Adams, who immediately appointed three envoys extraordinary to the French Repub- lic, for the purpose of concluding an honourable peace. Another revolution had about this time broken out in France. The Directory was overthrown, and the govern- ment was placed in the hands of Bonaparte, who had taken no part in the measures which had so nearly involved the two countries in war. With him negociations were open- ed, which were soon terminated in a pacific adjustment of all disputes ; including indemnity for past, and security against future aggressions. Besides the ordinary laws passed during Mr. Adams' ad- ministration, there were several of great public interest, in ad- dition to the one already mentioned, relative to our concerns with the French Republic. Among these, were the alien, and sedition laws, as also one increasing the number of Judges of the United States courts. A law laying a direct tax was also passed during this term. Each of these acts were vio- lently opposed both in and out of Congress by the political opponents of Mr. Adams. No means which malice or i ADAMS, 61 iiigeHuity could devise were left unemployed to rouse the resentment of the people against what they called, these aristocratical and unconstitutional acts. The period for which Mr. Adams was chosen, was now drawing to a close. The electioneering campaign was opened and conducted with the most unremitting zeal and exertion by each of the two great parties. Mr. Adams was the federal, and Mr. Jefferson the republican, or popular candidate. On counting the votes, it appeared that Mr. Adams was not the successful candidate, — he not having received so great a number of votes as Mr. Jefferson. He of course, on the 4th of March, 1801, retired from public life, with the applause of many, and the censure of others, (as is generally the fate of public men,) to his paternal estate in the town of Quincy, Massachusetts, where he now resides, at the advanced age of 91 years. Mr. Adams in his retirement, has devoted himself to those liberal studies, to which he had from his early life become particularly at- tached. His friends were numerous, consisting of the great and good, in every part of the United States, — with many of whom a correspondence was maintained, distinguished for the interest excited, when published, on account of the talent and information it unfolded. So extensive is his knowledge on most subjects connected with literature, religion, and politics — and especially that which he possesses of the principal events which took place both preceding and during the revolutionary war, that his opinions and assistance have been continually sought after, by political and literary men in every section of the country. It has been observed how zealously and determined he conducted himself in the establishment of our national inde- pendence. He ever has been equally determined and inde- pendent in the exercise of his judgment upon other subjects, whether of a public or private nature. After a careful ex- amination of the matter presented for his consideration, his opinion was formed, to which he most inflexibly adhered. It is perhaps owing to this trait of character, a trait not un- common among men of superior minds, that he was in the course of his life, sometimes obliged, though with reluctance, to differ from his friends, both personal and politic Jf. Mr. Adams, while president, was strongly in favour of maintaining a respectable military and naval force, believing that government ought, in peace, to be prepared for wsly. This opinion he has always maintained, although it was the 6 60 ADAMS. subject of the most violent clamour, on the part of his polit- ical enemies. That his sentiments, on this, as well as on many other important measures, which were at the time so warmly opposed, were correct, may be inferred from the fact, that they have since been adopted by his successors, and even to a much broader extent, than was ever contemplated by him. He was in particular attached to the navy, believ- ing from the local and relative situation of the United States, as well as from the skill and bravery of her seamen, that it was the best means in her power, either of annoyance, or of defence. His feelings on this subject were with his charac- teristic emphasis, expressed on board the ship Independence, which he visited as she lay in Boston harbour, in August, 1815. He viewed with delight, her healthy, hearty, well dressed and cheerful looking crew, as he walked the gun- deClc, on which were arranged six hundred brave American sailors — the tear stole from his eye — when, after recovering himself, he turned to the gentlemen accompanying him, and said, " let Mr. Strong say ivlict lie. wiU, these are the bul- wark OF OUR RELIGION !" — alluding, probably, to a decla- ration which Governor Strong had not long before ma'de, in a speech to the Massachusetts Legislature, that England was the bulwark of our religion. This independent and un- yielding spirit was on all occasions discoverable. Whenever called upon for his opinion, he did not hesitate, on all proper occasions to give it, whether it was in accordance or not, with that of those who requested it. This part of his char- acter is no where better illustrated than in his reply to the Massachusetts Peace Society, which was composed of christian Philanthropists, many of whom were his personal friends. They were men, whose purity of motives could not be doubted, whatever opinion might have been entertained as to the utility of the institution. They addressed letters to Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson, for their support and coun- tenance of the objects for which the society was established — the promotion of peace, and the discouragement of war. They both declined becoming members ; Mr. Jefferson, after many philosophical speculations on the subject, stated, thai age, an(L its effects, both on body and mind, had weaned his atteilnon from public subjects, and left him unequal to the labour of correspondence, beyond the limits of his personal concerns ; I retire, therefore, said he, from the question.— President Adams' answer was as follows : ADAMS. 03 "QuiNCY, February 6, 1816. *• Dear Sir — I have received your kind letter of the 23d of January, and I thank you tor the pamphlets enclosed with it. " It is very true, as my excellent friend, Mr. Norton, has informed you, that I have read many of your publications Avith pleasure. " I have also read, almost all the days of my life, the sol- emn reasonings and pathetic declarations of Erasmus, of Fenelon, of St, Pierre, and many others, against vi^ar, and in favour of peace. My understanding and my heart, accord- ed with them at first blush. But alas ! a longer and more extensive experience has convinced me, that wars are as necessary and as inevitable, in our system, as hurricanes, earthquakes and volcanoes. " Our beloved country, sir, is surrounded by enemies, y^? the most dangerous, because the most powerful and most unprincipled character. Collisions of nationa.l interest, of commercial and manufacturing rivalries, are raultij)iying aroui^ us. Instead of discouraging a martial spirit, in my opinion it ought to be excited. We have not enough of it to defend us by sea or land. " Universal and perpetual peace appears to me no more- nor less than everlasting passive obedience and non-resist- ance. The human flock would soon be fleeced and butcher- ed by one or a few. I cannot, therefore, sir, be a subscriber or a member of your society. " I do, sir, most humbly supplicate the theologians, the philosophers, and politicians, to let me die in peace. I seek only repose. " With the most cordial esteem, however, I am, dear sir, your friend and servant, ** '' JOHN ADAMS." It is deeply to be regretted, that a more distinct and par- ticular account of the revolutionary speeches and proceed- ings are not preserved. President Adams, in a letter to the faithful and able editor of the Weekly Register, dated Jan. 3, 1817, observes, that " of all the speeches made in Congress, from 1774 to 1777, not one sentence remains, except a few periods of Dr. Witherspoon, printed in his works." In the same letter, he thus expresses his opinion : — " In plain Eng- lish, and in a few words, Mr. Niles, I consider the true his- tory of the American revolution, and of the establishment of 64 ADAMS. our present constitution, as lost, forever. And nothing but misrepresentations, or partial accounts of it, ever will be recovered." President Adams was always earnestly engaged in en- couraging and patronising domestic manufactures. Of most of the principal societies, instituted for this purpose, in va- rious parts of the United States, he has been chosen an honorary member, in consideration of the zeal he had so uniformly displayed in the promotion of every object con- nected with the welfare and iitdependence of his country. In a letter, addressed to one of these societies, he observes, '' that according to his view of political economy, in civilized society, next to agriculture, which is the first and most splendid, manufactures are the second, and navigation the third. With agriculture, manufactures and navigation, all the commerce which can be necessary or useful to the hap- piness of a nation, will be secured." Among these, and other tokens of respect, received from his fellow-citizens, he was chosen, in 1820, by an unanimous vote of his native town, a delegate to the Convention, to be held in Boston, for the purpose of revising or altering the government of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Although above eighty- five years old, he was, also, at the opening of the sitting of the Convention, unanimously chosen President of that emi- nently able and dignified body. He acknowledged his grat- itude for this particular mark of respect, from such distin- guished fellow-citizens of his native state, but declined the acceptance of the office on account of the infirmities of age. He had, forty years before, sat in a similar convention, and was, at that period, the leading member in framing that constitution, which, in consequence of the great and benefi- cial changes which had taken place, now required such alterations and additions as would meet the exigencies of the times. Although he declined the office to which he was appointed, a chair, on the right of the President, afterwards elected, was assigned to him, as a testimony of the high re- spect and veneration in which he was held by that enlight- ened assembly. But the most interesting scene, which we can view in his life of retirement, is that in which is exhibited the corres- pondence between him and Mr. Jefferson. Both were early engaged in the cause of American Independence ; both were in the congress which met to consider the difficulties exist- ing between the colonies and the mother country : and both ADAMS. 65 were not only members of that congress which declared tiie United States free and independent, but both were of that committee which framed that monumental record of free- men against tyrants — the Declaration of Independence. After peace had taken place, both were appointed to for- eign embassies ; Mr. Jefferson at Paris, and Mr. Adams, as^ has been before observed, at London. Upon their return, ' after the adoption of the federal constitution by the several states, they*were both called to fill offices of the greatest responsibility under the new»government ; the one as Vice- President of the United States, the other as Secretary of State under General Washington. While in these situa- tions, they found themselves to be, in public opinion, rivals to each other ; each being at the head of one of the two great parties, which, during this period, first appeared, and which have, ever since, so much divided and agitated the people of the United States. The struggle finally terminat- ed, as has already been mentioned, in the election of Mr. Jefferson to the presidency, in 1801. In 1809, Mr. Jeffer- son retired from public office, and became, like President Adams, a private citizen. After this period, both being re- moved from the further troubles and perplexities of public life, a mutual correspondence, by letter, was commenced between them. Few, if any productions, have been so eagerly sought after and read, as those which were permitted to be published. It would appear, from these publications, that, although nominally hostile to each other, in a public point of view, they were, nevertheless, personally friendly ; and that they v;ere placed in opposition to each other, not from any difference of private opinion, as regarded the great interests of the country, but from the zeal and violence of party spirit, which then pervaded the country. The spectacle of two men, both of whom had held the highest offices in the gift of the only free government on earth, and wtiohad, for so many years, been in political hos- tility to each other, now retired to the peaceful shades of private life, and engaged, at the advanced ages of eighty years, in a correspondence, distinguished for frankriess, friendship and intellect, was indeed interesting. The sen- timents interchanged on the various subjects of their letters, were such as might have been expected from men so dis- tinguished as they were, for sound principles, splendid tal- ents, and public services. 6* 66 ADAMS. President Adams, for the last few years, has suffered con- siderably from bodily infirmity, though his mental faculties appear to remain wholly unimpaired. Owing to a defect in his eye sight, he has been under the necessity of employing an amanuensis, to reduce his thoughts to writing ; and, as he observed in one of his^letters, he imposes upon his friends, as they call upon him, the task of reading aloud some fa- vourite author. It has fallen to the lot of this illustrious individual to wit- ness what has rarely happened to any man before. He has lived to see his country emancipated from the thraldom of tyranny and oppression, in the accomplishment of which, few, if any, took a more active or important part ; he has been the chief magistrate of that country, after her independ- ence was secured ; and now lives to see his son occupying^ the same exalted station which, five-and-twenty years ago, was held by himself — the Presidency of the United Sates. Such are the brief outlines of the life of President Adams, who, in the evening of his days, is now enjoying the reward of a long life, devoted to the greatest of all earthly objects — the liberty and happiness of mankind. THOMAS JZSFFCR30K, USQ. Third President of the United Slates. Mr. Jefferson was born in Virginia. He was educated in his native land, from which he was never absent till its service demanded his residence at the Court of Paris, whither he was sent as an envoy. Mr. Jefferson is tall, and of slender make, fresh complex- ion, clear penetrating eyes, hair inclining to red, and of very modest and affable deportment. He was, professionally, bred a lawyer, though born to an affluent fortune ; yet the public demand for the exercise of his talents in a higher sphere, left him but little time to display his native elo- quence as a barrister. His country called him forward at a very early period. In private life, in his younger days, he was, in every circle, its ornament, instructor and pride. Close application had supplied the want of many European advantages. In the auxiliary accomplishments of drawing, geometry, geograpliy, astronomy, natural philosophy, and'^music, he attained exten- sive knowledge, and was considered a proficient in them. At an early age he married a mild and amiable wife, the daughter of a Mr. Wayles, an eminent counsellor in Virginia, whose premature death deprived him of an affectionate part- ner. The death of this lady devolved on him a more weighty care in the education of her two lovely daughters. It could not be expected that a man of such qualifications, in a country which stood so much in need of them, could be suffered longer to remain in philosophic retirement, and the vote of his constituents claimed his labours in the field of jurisprudence. In the Legislature of Virginia he became a distinguished and useful member, and has left many tracei ©n record of sufficient importance to indicate his greatness. During the revolutionary period, we find him advancing to a still more dignified station ; he was one of those in whose hands the people thought fit to confide the most ma- terial events of their political existence and future happiness. He was honoured with the public confidence during its most important struggles, and sat two years in the famous con- gress which brought about the revolution. In this congress 68 . JEFFERSON. he sustained a character which will stand dignified to the end of time. A greater example of unlimited confidence than was evinced in the address of his constituents, on the awful oc- casion of this delegation, will, probubly, never be recorded in history. " You assert that there is a fixed determination to invade our rights and privileges ; we own that we do not see this clearly, but since you assure us that it is so, we be- lieve the fact. We are about to take a very dangerous step, but we confide in you, and are ready to support you in every measure you shall think proper to adopt." The following is a beautiful and faithful picture, drawn by a distinguished hand, of his manly efforts during the memorable period of which we are speaking : " They must be very ignorant of the history of America who know not that Mr. Jefferson shared with George Wash- ington, Franklin, John Adams, Mr. Jay, and a few other?, the toils and dangers of the revolution in all its different stages ; that in the famous congress which guided and con- solidated it, he displayed a boldness and firmness of charac- ter, a fund of talents and knowledge, and a steadiness of principles, which will hand down his name to posterity witji glory, and assure to him forever the respect and gratitude of all the friends of liberty. - It was he, who, in the famous con- gress, so respectable and so much respected, in that congress, ever inaccessible to the seduction, fear, and apparent weak- ness of the people — who jointly with Mr. Lee, another deputy of Virginia, proposed the declaration of independence. It was he, who, supported principally by John Adams, pressed the deliberation on the subject, and carried it, bearing down the wary prudence of some of his colleagues, possessed of an equal share of patriotism, but of less courage. It was he, who was charged with drawing up this master-piece of dig-^ nified wisdom and patriotic pride. It was he, who, being afterwards appoiated Governor of Virginia, at the period of the invasion of Arnold and Cornwallis, acquired a peculiar claim on the gratitude of his fellow-citizens. It was he, who, as the first Ambassador of the United States in France, filled, at that momentous epocha, that distinguished post to the satisfaction of both nations. In fine, it was he, who, as Se- cretary of State in 1792, when the ridiculous and disorgan- izing pretensions of Mr. Genet, and the lofty arrogance of the British Minister, endeavoured alternately to abuse the political weakness of the United States, induced his govern- JEFFERSON. 69 meat to sp^.ak a noble and independent language, which would have done credit to the most formidable power. The long correspondence carried on with these two designing agents, would, from its just, profound and able reasoning, be alone sufficient to confer on its author the reputation of an accomplished Statesman." In 1780-1, he was Governor of Virginia, and the succes- sor of Patrick Henry. In 1781, he wrote his notes on Vir- ginia. These were not intended for the press, yet they have found their way into print. Can any man say that he has cause to be ashamed of the principles he has avowed there ? Let his book be read, it will bear witness for the man. From the year 1782-3, till March 1786, he was a mem- ber of congress, when he was appointed Ambassador to the Court of Versailles, where he evinced great diplomatic tal- ents. Mr. Jefferson remained in this situation until the year 1789, when he returned from France, and tSie federal con- stitution having been adopted by the unanimous consent of the several sovereign states, he was appointed Secretary of State to the Federal Government. In this eminent capacity, he was called on to perform many arduous duties of office ; and the difficulty of perform- ing? these in a safe and satisfactory manner, was greatly enhanced by the consideration of pursuing an unbeaten path in the organization of a new-born system. We come now to one of tlie most important periods in the history of commerce : the period at which the am.bassador of the King of England became a resident at the Court of America, and the citizen minister of the French Republic, assailed the firmness of her neutral principles. The bur- then of the day fell on the shoulders of Mr. Jefferson. We need not say with what ability he sustained the shock. Suf- fice it to say, that with both nations the correspondence was voluminous and intricate, circumstances which render a detail of it, in the body of this work, impossible. It is ap- prehended to be, nevertheless, impartial on the side of Mr. Jefferson, and is important on the side of truth, against that insidious intrigue which dares impute to him an unworthy attachment. If M'e were to follow him through the labyrinth of diplo- matic intrigue, wherein the then existing rulers of France had employed their chosen corps in arming American citi- zens, in disorganising the government of the United States, and in endeavours to involve her in the war. we shall find rO JEFFERSON. him equally vigilant and impartial. Where, then, may \\e ask, is the evidence of that overweening partiality to Fiance, which his eiiemies have attempted to fix upon him ? But to put this question beyond a doubt, and forever silence his malicious accusers, we need only produce the following ex- tract of a letter from General Washington, addressed to Mr. Jefferson, on the subject of the unfortunate disagreement between him and the Secretary of the Treasury : " I did not require," says the letter, " the evidence of the extracts which you enclosed me, to convince me of your attachment to the constitution of the United States, or of your disposi- tion to promote the general welfare of this country." The failure of affirmative evidence, as well as a voluminous proof of innocence, bid us desist from further disprobate. On the 31st day of December, 1793, Mr. Jefferson retir- ed from the office of Secretary of State. In addition to the ties of parental care, and the claims of domestic happiness, he is said to have been somewhat induced to this dereiictory measure, by the persuasion of a decided party overwhelming his opinions in the presidential decisions. But his resigna- tion appears more properly attributed to an existing disa- greement between him and the Secretary of the Treasury department, which seems to have originated in an early &tage of the administration, and to have acquired a regular accession of force from circumstances which were perpetu- ally occurring, until it issued in open and irreconcilable hostility. Immediately after this step, Mr. Jefferson was considered by the ruling party as the leader of opposition ; he was sus- pected of revolutionary views ; he was accused of an inten- tion to overturn the constitution of the United States, of being the enemy of his country, and of a wish to become a tribune of the people. It is sufficient to know that Mr. Jeffer- son is a man of too much sense, to feel the absurdity of the scandalous imputations, and, whoever is acquainted with his virtire, must be astonished at their having been prefered against him. His speeches are those of a man firmly attach- ed to the maintenance of the Union, of the present constitu- tion, and of the independence of the United States. He is the declared enemy of every new system ; and is clearly of opinion, that the present constitution should be carefully preserved and defended against all infringements arising from the stretch of executive power. JEFFERSON. 71 In the fall of 1796, Mr. Jefferson was elected by the people to the less active, though highly dignified office of Vice President. In the fall of 1800, Mr. Jefferson was elected, by a large majority of his fellow citizens, to fill the high and important office of President of the United States. The constitution of the United States provided, that two persons shall be elected as President and Vice President, without granting to the electors the right of designating whom they intend for either office. In consequence of this, Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Burr, being run together, had each the same number of votes. The question, who should be president? of course came before congress. As Mr. Jefferson was unquestionably the person intended by the votes for president, the spirit of the constitution was assuredly in his favour, but the latter placed Mr. Burr on the same ground with him. Notwith- standing this incontrovertible fact, that Mr, Burr, was never intended by the electors to be president of the United States^ the balloting commenced, and was continued for several days, with an obstinacy which threatened our happy govern- ment with dissolution. In this ballot each state had one vote, and such was their representation, that neither candi- date could obtain a constitutional majority. During this period, when it was expected that this country would be plunged into the uproar and misery of a civil war, that seren- ity of mind for which our president is so justly celebrated, left him not. He viewed the mighty controvei-sy, in which the happiness of millions was at stake, with a steady con- fidence that " all would work together for good." The event justified his expectations. The opposition wearied out with the inflexibility of his friends, or fearing the '' trial at the bar of the public reasons," at length gave way, and on the 3d of March 1801, the day on which President Adams' period of service expired, he was declared duly elected. Rarely has a nation known a season of grea.ter solicitude, than this country experienced during this memorable ballot- ing. One party appeared determined to place an usurper in the presidential chair (for Mr. Burr could not be looked upon in any other light) and the other resolved that it should be filled by the " man of the people." The messageof the president elect, was heard with enthu- siasm by both houses of congress, it set forth the flourishing condition of our country, and the general principles which should govern his administration. Although the country 72 JEFFERSON. was convulsed with the conflicts of party, his message seeia- ed to allay for a time, the angry passions which had been excited during the presidential election. " TVe are all Federalists, we are all Republicans^^ was a sentiment ex- pressed in the message, and through the whole country received with approbation, as a pledge that political hostility was thereafter to cease, and the two great parties which then divided the nation, were to be united into one great and common family. Mr. Jefferson, upon assuming the powers of the execu- tive, immediately proceeded to appoint to offices in the various departments of government, his political friends, in the place of those incumbents, who were his political adver- saries, alledging as he did, in a public letter, that his only rule to be observed in such cases, was, " is the candidate honest, is he capable, is he faithful to the constitution.'* Many of the federal party were displaced, but it may well be remarked, that though he had the whole power in his hands, more than one half of the officers in the various branches of government were suffered to remain in the en- joyment of employments and salaries, although they were his decided and avowed political opponents. That he had a right to displace from many of the most important offices in the country, those who were opposed to him, and appoint in their places, men of talents and character, who were his personal and political friends, there can be no doubt. It would have been ungrateful if not treacherous, had he not done so. Such a course is not only dictated by the common feelings of humanity, but by the example of every nation whose history is handed down to us. Upon the change of a ministry in England or France, it follows as a matter of course, that the old incumbents retire, and the friends of the new administration are appointed to succeed them in their honours and offices. These few remarks are made, because a great excitement was caused in many of the states, in consequence of the removal of persons politically hostile to him from office, and the appointing of those, politically friend- ly to him, to succeed them. Mr. Jefferson, on accession to his office departed from the example of his predecessors, Washington and Adams, which was the cause of much speculation and controversy at the time, though it has since been followed and sanctioned by his successors, Madison and Munroe. Instead of a speech delivered to the two houses of congress by the president in JEFFERSON. 73 person, as had ever been the practice before, he sent to them a written message which was hrst read in the senate and then transmitted to the house of representatives. This course it is said was adopted by him, as ijemix more consistent with the genius of our repubUcan mstitutions, insomuch that it prevented the forms and ceremonies which are usually at- tendant on such occasions in otlier countries, especially, those subjected to a monarchical form of government. The new administration was commenced under the most favour- able auspices. A large majority of the house of representa- tives in the next congress were not only his political friends, but enthusiastical, in their attachment to him personally, and'^to the particular principles of government which he had always avowed and supported. During the first term of his administration, supported by the two branches of the legislature, his views and recom- mendations on the various subjects of national concerns were adopted, and received by the people generally with approbation, A large proportion of tliem however, were dissatisfied with many of the prominent acts of government. For although large majorities were, in both houses of con- gress his supporters, there were powerful minorities in al- most every section of the country ; and in congress many able and distinguished statesmen were decidedly hostile, to the principles of policy, by which he was actuated in ■ the discharge of his official duties. Among the most prominent measures adopted during the first four years of his administration, were the removal from office, or rather the abolition of the office of sixteen judges of the circuit courts of the United States, who were ap- pointed quite at the close of Mr. Adams' administration, and by the partizans of Mr. Jeiferson, styled "the midnight judges;" the impeachment of Julge Cjiase of Maryland, an associate judge of the supreme court of the United States, and the ratification of a treaty with the French government, by which it ceded that territory of America, called Louis- iana, to the United States. Conf'/iM-ning tiie removal of the sixteen judges, a diversity of sentiment prevailed throughout the country at the time, but was finally acquiesced in by many who were opposed to the act, on the ground tl'.at it was at least doubtful, whether tlieir ap^yvSiitments in the manner made, were consistent with the provisions of the constitution. 7 74 JEFFERSON. The impeachment and trial of Judge Chase, however, produced a very considerable excitement, and aroused all the passions of the two great parties which then divided the American people. He was considered by the federalists, of whose party he was a distinguished leader, as a man proscribed and perse- cuted without cause, and as a victim to be immolated on the altar of party spirit, merely to gratify the angry passions of those who were his personal and political opponents. The friends of the administration on the other hand, insisted that he had been guilty of gross abuses of his office, as a judge, and protested that notliing but a sense of public duty influenced them in their exertions to bring him to trial, before the proper tribunal. Accordingly he was impeached by the house of rep- resentatives, and a numerous committee, of whom the cele- brated John Randolph was chairman, were appointed to conduct and manage the trial before the senate. After a long and patient investigation of the charges, and hearing of the arofuments of the committee, and of counsel on the part of Judge Chase, he was acquitted by a constitutional majority. This was the first formal impeachment and trial of a judge of the supreme court of the United States, since the adoption of the federal constitution, and no trial of the kind has since occurred. The important treaty ceding Louisiana was also a subject of much discussion and feeling. By this treaty all that im- mense region of country extending from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean, was acquired by the United States, as well as the free and exclusive navigation of the river, which had been interrupted by Spam. The sum of fifteen millions of dollars was the price of these newly acquired rights. The minority were opposed to the ratification of the treaty, contending that the sum was exhorbitantly large, that the navigation of the Mississippi could have been secured ami- cably, and without such heavy pecuniary sacrifices, and jparticularly that the addition of such a vast extent of coun- try to the United States, which were already sufficiently large, would be rather a curse than a blessing ; that the day was not far distant when, it would be found that such vast dominions could not be held together under our form of government, and that like ancient Rome, she would falj t© pieces through her own insupportable weight. JEFFERSON. 75 These objections, however, had little influence with Mr. Jefferson and the majority of Congress. They viewed the subject in a very different point of li^ht : — that compared with the importance of the objects obtained, the purchase money was trifling. That the prosperity of all the western States was dependent on the free and uiiinterrupt:-d naviga- tion of the waters of the Mississippi, and a safe depot at New-Orleans, — that by this treaty our western frontier would be protected and preserved from collisions with a foreign power, and that the forin and strength of our happy government were fully adequate for the security and pro- tection of her territories, however extensive they might be. This important treaty was executed at Paris, in the year one thousand eight hundred and three, by Robert R. Liv- ingston, then ambassador in France ; and time has tested the great benefits which have resulted from it. In addition to the acts already noticed which occurred during the first term of Mr. Jefferson's administration, of national importance, it ought to be mentioned, that a prin- cipal feature of the Constitution of the United States was altered. We allude to that article of it which was the cause of the long and anxious struggle in the House of Represen- tatives in the choice of him as President. Instead of the two highest candidates for the office to be held up indiscri- ngiinately, the constitution was so amended that thereafter, the electors of the several states should designate the candi- date whom they intended for the Presidency, as also him, whom tliey intended for the Vice Presidency. This un- doubtedly arose from the evils experienced in the election by Congress. Mr. Jefferson undoubtedly was intended to be President by a majority of the votes in the electoral colleges, but Mr. Burr having the same number of votes, from the same political friends, he of course, under the old clause in the constitution stood on equal ground, and the House of Re- presentatives voting by states, being equally divided, those evils were experienced, which the amendment was meant to remedy. It is however doubtful in the minds of many, whether this alteration will be productive in times to come, of benefit to the country. If two candidates were to be voted for without distinction as to which office they Avere to hold, perhaps the people would be more apt to select as can- didates the two most proper persons to fill the highest offices' in the nation, instead of confining their views to one only. It may be remarked, that, although the present distinguish- 76 JEFFERSON. ed patriot and statesman, Mr. Adams, was chosen in March last, by tbe House of Representatives, in consequence of there being no choice by the people, had the clause repealed, remained in the constitution, Mr. Calhoun, the present Vice President, would have been declared President, he having the greatest number of votes in the electoral colleges, and a considerable majority over all the other candidates. At the close of this first term of Mr. Jeiferson's adminis- tration, the feelings of the two great parties became more and m.ore excited. The war in Europe had become a sub- ject of intense interest among the leading men of our coun- try. One party was denominated as being under British influence, while the other was charged with being subservi- ent to the willof the Emperor Napoleon of France. The devastating wars which were carried on at that peri- od, as well as long after, not only threatened but endangered the best interests of our country, and in consequence our countrymen were very much divided in opinion as to the course of policy to be pursued, as well as to the justice of the cause in which the two great belligerents of Europe were engaged. The frie^ids of the administration espoused the cause of France, believing Great Britain to be the ag- gressor in the war, and that her conduct towards this coun- try was arrogant and oppressive ; while on the other hand the federalists ii^aintainod tlTnt l^!nglanrl was arting nn]y on the defensive, against the overwhelming power of France, and that her existence depended on her resistance, in order to preserve the liberties of Europe, as well as her own, and that she had done nothing against this country which was not authorized by the law of nations. During this struggle of political warfare, Mr. Jefferson was again elected President, in the fall of 1804, and sworn into office on the 4th of March following. Mr. Burr, the former Vice President, and competitor of Mr. Jefferson for the presidency, in the memorable contest in the House of Re- presentatives, four years before, was now reduced to the sit- uation of a private citizen, not having received a single vote from the electors for either of the two offices of President or Vice President. He was succeeded by the venerable George Clinton, of New- York, who had, for many years, been distinguished as a patriot and statesman, Mr. Jefferson, upon entering into the discharge of his du- ties for the second term of his administration, although a decided majority, in both houses of congress, were friendly I JEFFERSON. 77 to the principles of government by which he was actuated, perceived himself to be placed in a more critical, if not more unpleasant situation, than at any former period of his public life. Domestic disturbances, which threatened the tranquil- lity of the states, but wholly disconnected with the causes of the difference between the two great political parties of the nation, were fearfully entertained by those now entrusted with the powers of government. The spirit of party was also never more virulent than at the commencement of this second administration, although, as has been before remarked, a large majority in congress were the professed and determined supporters of Mr. Jeffer- son. The war in Europe had also assumed a new aspect, and the manner in which it was conducted created apprehen- sions in the minds of our citizens, that our rights and liber- ties would not only be endangered, but sacrificed. Our commerce, in various parts of the world, became vexed and obstructed ; the right of search of vessels, under a neutral flag, was insisted upon ; and the impressment of American sailors was constantly practiced in every quarter of the globe, under the pretence that they were the liege subjects of his Majesty, the King of Great Britain. To revert, however, to the principal occurrences of this period, we must notice, more particularly, the domestic trou- bles which are alluded to above. Aaron Burr, being reduc- ed from the office of Vice President to the rank of a private citizen, as has already been mentioned, soon became an object of more particular interest, in the mind of the public, than he had ever been before. He had, while Vice Presi- dent, rendered himself extremely obnoxious, in consequence of fighting a duel with General Hamilton, who was consid- ered, universally, as one of the most able and upright men that this or any other country could boast, and who died in consequence of the wound received from Mr. Burr. This circumstance, in connection with his unjustifiable attempt to supplant Mr. Jefferson from tl:e presidency, in 1801, seem- ed to have bereft him of all his friends, and to have made him very unpopular throughout the whole United States. He had forfeited the confidence of the republican party by his intrigues, for the office of President, agamst Mr. Jeffer- son, and had now excited the indignation of the whole fed- eral party, by killing General Hamilton. He was thus apparently driven to a state of desperation ; for he was not 6* 78 JEFFERSON. long afterwards found engaged, in the western states, in the prosecution of acts in direct violation of the laws of his coun- try — that country which had before so highly honoured him, and whose laws and constitution he had so often sworn to obey and maintain. He was, in consequence, through the vigilance of Mr. Jefferson, as President of the United States, caused to be arrested on the charge of treason ; and thus the conspiracy, in which he was engaged, was broken down, and the accomplishment of its illegal objects frustrated. After a long confinement in prison, he was brought to trial before the Circuit Court in Virginia, in which Judge Mar- shall, Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of the United States, presided. This trial was, perhaps, the most inter- esting and important that was ever held by any of the courts in the United States. It may be said, that it was in Ameri- ca, what the trial of Warren Hastings, was, in England. President Jefferson, alarmed at the bold projects attempt- ed by Burr and his associates, had already communicated to congrress various documents as evidence of the ffuilt of the party arrested, and a sensation was produced, throughout the country, rarely, if ever before witnessed. The administra- tion, with a great majority of the people, appeared to be sat- isfied of his guilt, and desirous of punishment commensurate with the magnitude of his offence. Yet, notwithstanding this powerful influence, thus existing against the interests of Mr. Burr, he seemed determined to withstand the shock, and whether guilty or innocent, to avoid the blow that was threatened him. A ^e\v personal friends, and several eminent counsellors, assisted him in his defence. The trial continued for weeks, amidst the agitated feelings of the whole country. He was finally acquitted. But such was the popular feeling, that Judge Marshall, al- though his opinions on the various questions of law, submit- ted to him, were distinguished for their soundness and accuracy, was actually burnt in effiory in several of our prin- cipal towns, in order to express their indignation at the escape of one, whom they believed to have been a traitor to his country. These internal troubles being thus disposed of, the admin- istration became almost exclusively occupied wuth the subject of our relations with foreign powers. They had become more and more embarrassed and perplexed. The sanguina- ry and vindictive warfare carried on between the great na- tions of Europe, both on the land and on the ocean, involved JEFFERSON. 79 the interests of our country in difficulty, and although our soil was not invaded, our commerce was not only put in jeopardy, but seriously interrupted. To such an alarming extent had these evils arisen, that a system of retaliation was resolved upon, and restrictive measures were recommended by Mr. Jefferson. This was a novel mode in this country, either to protect our rights, or to resist oppression ; and a loud clamour, particular in the northern and eastern states was raised against it. Congress however, in 1806, passed what is commonly call- ed the " non importation act," by which the trade in most articles heretofore imported from Great Britain and Ireland and their colonies, was prohibited. Other restrictive meas- ures were also adopted during this second term of Mr. Jef- ferson's administration, all of which were attended with violent opposition from the minority, both in and out of Con- gress. But by far the most important act during Mr. Jeffer- son's administration, an act, which convulsed the whole nation, — was that, laying an Embargo, on all ships and ves- sels in the ports and harbours of the United States. This act^ with the other acts of non-importation and non-inter- course, was viewed by a great proportion of the citizens of the Atlantic States, as oppressive and unconstitutional, — that it interfered, and cut them off from their habitual and regular course of business — that it was likely to reduce them to pov- erty and distress ; their whole source of subsistence or wealth, being derived from their commercial pursuits. It was claimed also, that it was an illegal act, as no limited time was specified durinn; which it should continue, — that no instance of the kind could be offered as an example, either in this country or any other, of an embargo being laid, unless it was for a limited period, and even then, only in cases of scarcity of provisions at home, or for the purpose of securing success, to some enterprise of one nation against another, between whom war existed, or was soon to be declared. The administration, however, were supported by a majority of congress, though not by so large an one as it had been in its other measures. The protection of our citizens against the lawless ravaq;es of England and France upon the com-^ merce of the United States, was urged as a reason, that something must be done to secure it, and that the only way in which that object could be effected was by laying an em- bargo. The act was also justified, by those who were in its favour, on the ground that it would produce a favourable 80 :rEFFERSON. effect by way of retaliation, upon those nations who had ex- perienced great benefits from their intercourse with us, but who were then violating the laws of nations, and sacrificing the dearest interests of our country. The feelings of our citizens, from Maine to Georgia, were wrought to the highest degree. All those, engaged in com- merce, considered it as a deadly blow against their own interests, — their ships were to rot, and the cargoes on board would either perish, or be of so little value, in consequence of the detention, as to ruin those concerned in them. The opposition to the measure in congress, had become increased. Mr. Randolph, who had heretofore been the leading charac- ter in the house of representatives, in favour of the adminis- tration, now withdrew his support, and opposed the restrictive measures, so warmly recommended and advocated by the friends of the administration. He declared his solemn con- viction, that these measures conduced to the ruin of the country, and that they grew out of an overweening attach- ment to the French government, then perhaps in the height of her power, under the controul of the Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte. He particularly alluded to Mr. Gallatin, who was then at the head of the Treasury Department, as being influenced by the wishes and views of the French Minister. Mr. Pickering, an old and distinguished statesman, then a senator in the congress of the United States, also, opposed this course of policy pursued by the administration. Being a representative in tlie senate of the state of Massachusetts, he addressed a letter to James Sullivan, then governor of that state ; in which he set forth in glowing colours the alarming state of national affairs, and the impending ruin of the commercial states in consequence of the restrictive system adopted by congress. He, as well as many other statesmen, contended, that our best policy was, to let com- merce take care of itself, that any interposition on the part of government was productive of more evil than good ; that our merchants were fully competent to manage their own affairs without any interference on the part of the United States. This letter produced great sensation at the time, especial- ly in New England, whose prosperity was principally in- debted to the enterprise of those engaged in commercial pursuits. The same system was, however, persisted in, during the remainder of Mr. Jefferson's administration, upheld by a large majority Jo both houses of congress. JEFFERSON. «1 Many other acts of importance were passed during this last term of Mr. Jefferson's administration, especially those relating to the judiciary, the navy, and the army, but our limits will not permit us to go into the details of them. They were all intended for the public good, to preserve and protect our rights, both at home and abroad. Mr. Jefferson durincr the whole course of his administra- tion, maintained personally, the simplicity of a republican government. He avoided all ceremory and parade. The pomp and show of the old governments in Europe were not accordant, either to his feelings or principles. Instead of a coach and eight, as is the custom in some of the foreign nations, he not only in his private recreations, but in his official capacity, was often seen on horseback going to the capital and to other public departments, unattended even by a single servant. The example set by him was followed by other distinguished men high in honour and office, as proving the safety and security enjoyed under a republican form of government ; thus contrasting in this point of view, the condition of the United States with that of Europe, where their kings and emperors hardly dare to appear in public, unless in great pomp and splendor, and surrounded by courtiers and soldiers. Towards the close of his administration, Mr. Jefferson, by an almoet unanhinouG vote in both llOUSes of COngress, aS a testimony of their respect, was allowed the privilege of receiving all letters and packages, directed to him through the mail, free of postage during his life. This act was passed in February, 18(>9. On the 3d of March following, he retired from public life agreeable to his own declared wishes, and was succeeded in the office of president of the United States, by James Madison of Virginia, who had, during many years of Mr. Jefferson's administration, held the important office of secretary of state. Upon his retirement from public life, in which he had spent most of his years, Mr. Jefferson appears to have en- gaged himself in the various literary and philosophical pur- suits, to which in early life he had become so much attached. Possessed of an ample landed estate in Virginia, called Monticello, a name almost equally distinguished as Mount Vernon, the seat of General Washington, he, in the unas- suming garb of a private citizen, devotes himself to the management of his domestic concerns, and those liberal studies by which he wag enabled to fill so many public n JEFFERSON. offices, with honour to himself, and to the great benefit of our common country. Mr. Jefferson having now become a private citizen, little of public interest, could be expected from him, as the feel- ins^s of the country were now'in a high degree of excite- ment, and directed to those men who now held the great offices of government, yet such was his popularity, and the strong hold he had upon the affections of his fellow citizens, that almost every action of his life v/as observed or heard of, with pleasure and admiration. He opened a correspond- ence with his great political rival, John Adams, his prede- cessor in the office of president ; and to this day it is continued in the genuine spirit of friendship and respect for each other. Many of the letters have been publisiied in the newspapers, and probably no articles of the kind, have ever been read with more pleasure by the American people than these. It would appear from this correspondence, that these two great men, who were for so long a time at the head of the two political parties, which divided and distract- ed the country, were personally friendly to each other, and that their ostensible hostility was wholly owing to the spirit of party, which, during their public life, prevailed among the people; in a word, they found themselves placed against each other, by the opinions of those who preferred, as a politician, the one to the other, and not from any personal enmity between themselves. Mr. Jefferson, during this period of his private life, never lost sight of the true interests of his country. His advice and counsel was sought and given. Ke became an ardent supporter of internal improvements and domestic manufac- tures. This change of his opinion on the latter subject, particularly, was a matter of much speculation at the time, it being alleged that it was utterly inconsistent with the opin- ions which he had formerly publicly avowed. In his notes on Virginia he had expressed his opinion to be, that our work-shops had better be on the other side of the Atlantic. He however satisfactorily justified himself, as to the different view he had taken of the subject, in a letter addressed to the Hon. Benjamin Austin, of Boston, in the year 1816. He therein stated that thirty years had elapsed since he wrote the notes on Virginia ; that wonderful changes had taken place in this, as well as in foreign countries, since that period, and that now, to be independent, the United States •ught not to be dependent on other nations for manufactnres. JEFFERSON. ^3 After the burning of the capitol, and other public build- ings at Washington, by which, in the spirit of vandalism, the public records and library were destroyed, Mr. Jefferson, through the urgent request of many distinguished men, was induced to offer his own library to congress. It consisted of many rare and valuable books, selected with the utmost care by him, during his residence in various parts of Europe. Congress consented to the purchase of it, and allowed there- for the sum of twenty thousand dollars. Eighteen heavy wagons were employed in transporting this literary treasure from Monticello to Washington. During the last few years, Mr. Jefferson has more partic- ularly devoted himself to the great and important subject of education in his native state. A university is founded, of which he is emphatically the founder and benefactor. The arts and sciences are introduced in the most liberal extent, and he lives to witness its prosperity, as well as that of the nation over which he presided with so much honour and dignity, from 1801 to 1809. In his declining life, being now more than eighty years of age, he appears to enjoy the full possession of his mental faculties. His company and conversation is sought after, by distinguished men, from all parts of our country, as also from those who visit us from foreign nations. Members of congress annually call upon this venerable statesman to pay their homage of respect for the great services he has render- ed his country. General La Fayette, in his visit to Virginia, where he was received with rapturous applause, in every section of the state, failed not to seek an interview with Mr. Jefferson, with whom he had formed a lasting attachment, not only in this country, during our revolutionary struggles, but also while he was in France, as our minister to that nation. The scene which took place between them, was truly affect- ing ; they recognised each other with those feelings which may be supposed to be excited in the hearts of two men, who, after a separation of many years, now once more found themselves together, not only to exchange their mutual sen- timents of friendship for each other, but to recapitulate the successes and adversities which had attended them in their perilous struggles for liberty in the various parts of the world. They, in the course of their lives, had met with both ; but they were now beyond the reach of further political trou- bles ; the one, an honoured republican, enjoying peace and 84 JEFFERSON. happiness in retirement, after having received the highest offices in the gift of his countrymen ; the other, after having suffered almost every thing, short of death, in the cause of liberty in Europe, was now, throughout the world, recognis- ed as the friend and benefactor of mankind; and in this coun- try, was not only received as tiie Nation'' s Guest, but reward- ed by such honours throuo;hout the whole of the United States, that a parallel of which can scarcely be found in the page of history. These are the brief outlines of the public and private life of Thomas Jefferson ; a great man, raised by the providence of God, to be the early assertor and faithful defender of the liberties and independence of his country. He has contri- buted much to its prosperity, and is now receiving the respect and the tokens of filial affection from his fellow-citi- zens, from every quarter of our country. JAKKSS TfllLHinOHr, BSQ. Fourth President of the United States. The subject of this memoir was born in Orange County, in the state of Virginia, March 5th, 1750, O. S. His parents were the descendants of the earliest and most respectable inhabitants of the state. He was, at an early age, ?.s is the custom in most of the middle and southern states, placed under the care and tuition of a private classical instructor, of the name of Robertson, in King and Queen County. His progress, in the studies prescribed for him, were such that at the age of fourteen, lie was removed to Princeton College, New-Jersey, where he completed his education. Soon afterwards he was admitted to the bar, where he was distinguished for his talents, and the fidelity with which he discharged his duty towards his clients. But a wider field, for the exercise of honourable ambition, was soon opened to his view. The discontents and conten- sions between the colonies and Great Britain, had already arrived to an alarming height ; and the time seemed to be rapidly approaching, when the States would be called upon either to defend their rights and liberties, by the force of arms, or tamely submit as slaves, to lawless and tyrannical power. At the age of twenty-three, he commenced his career of public life, by being elected a member of the Virginia Le- gislature. In the year 1775, in the fulness of youthful ar- dour and enterprise, he joined a volunteer company, raised in Orange County, and placed himself among the foremost of those gallant-spirited Virginians, who nobly contended for their country's rights. In 1776, he was unanimously elect- ed one of the council of his native state. In this situation he particularly distinguished himself, and at once attracted, by the purity of his character and the superiority of talents, the attention and admiration of his fellow-citizens. He continued in the council, or state legislature, until he was elected a member of the old congress, where he continued, under the old confederation and present constitution, until the year 1800, it being the third year of Mr. Adams' admin- istration. He then retired from public life ; but such qual- ifications as he possessed, both as an individual and a states- 9 SQ MADISON. man, were not permitted to remain unemployed ; he was, within a year after, by an unanimous vote of his own district, chosen a member of the Virginia Assembly, which, at that time, was decidedly opposed to the course of policy pursued by the national government. Several important resolutions were passed during this session of the assembly, strongly condemning many of the most prominent measures adopted by congress ; among these, were those on the alien and se- dition laws, commonly called Madison's resolutions, which, at the time, created great excitement throughout the country. The period had now arrived, when Mr. Madison was to be called to occupy a still higher and more responsible office in the councils of his country, than he had ever heretofore filled. A revolution in politics had taken place. The re- publican party had succeeded in the choice of Mr. Jefferson as President of the United States, in the place of Mr. Adams. A new cabinet was to be formed from among the able and distinguished men of the nation, who had so successfully struggled against what they considered an overbearing and aristocratic administration. Mr. Madison was selected, by Mr. Jefferson, to be Secretary of State, the first and most important office in the gift of the executive. His talents and industry had rendered him peculiarly qualified for the dis- charge of the duties of this highly important trust. Possess- ed of an ample patrimony, he had, for many years, notwith- standing his public avocations, found leisure to devote himself to the study of politics as a science ; and few men better understood the relations of this country with foreign powers, or more fully comprehended the true construction of the constitution of the United States. He had participated in all the discussions preliminary to its adoption, and had ex- erted every effort to render it acceptable to the people. In order to explain, to enlighten and instruct his countrymen, on the provisions of this invaluable instrument, he in con- junction with two of the ablest statesmen and patriots, which this or any other country could boast^ Alexander Hamilton and John Jay, published the celebrated work called " T?ie Federalist ;" which is now, both in this and foreign nations, considered as one of the ablest political productions which has ever appeared in any age or country. While in con- gress, after the adoption of the constitution, he distinguish- ed himself as a champion, no less of religious, than of civil liberty ; and though enthusiastic in the support of the fed- eral government, as established, he was particularly anxious I MADISON. 87 to preserve the rights of the several states, which were not expressly surrendered to the general government. Conse- quently, in the debates which took place in that body, on all questions relating to the great principles upon which the union of the United States were founded, he was remarked for the nice discriminations, which he constantly made, be- tween the relative powers of the state and general govern- ments ; in all of which, he was recognised as the able and patriotic advocate of the rights and privileges of the people. While in congress, Mr. Madison was no less distinguished for the urbanity and amiableness of his manners aad deport- ment, than for his superior abilities. Unostentatious and retiring, he never wounded the pride or vanity of others, but established, anions his colleagues, the most durable and cor- dial friendships. His approach to popularity, in a national point of view, was gradual, and entirely through the intrin- >?ic force of his intellect. Both his writings and speeches, during this period, were as refreshing to an intelligent com- nnmity as they were soothing and healing in the irrations of controversy. He was every where recognised as the faith- ful and able statesman ; and what is still more decisive in his favour, he constantly enjoyed the moral support of the better part of society. To use the language of one of his cotemporaries in congress : '' so pure were his motives, so universally salutary were his aims, that he made no personal enemies ; and even in the heat of party strife, he secured the respect of his opponents." Such were the qualifications and character of Mr. Madi- son, when he was called to the department of state by Mr. Jefferson. Party spirit, at this time, and during the several succeeding years, in which he discharged the duties of this Jiighly responsible office, was perhaps never more highly excited. All Europe-was involved in war. And such was the extremity to which Great Britain and France carried on their bloody conflicts, that they had alternately violated the fundamental maxims of maritime hostility ; and neutral commerce, which was during this convulsed period, princi- pally carried on by the United States, become entrapped or sacrificed, by the arbitrary regulations adopted by each of these two powerful nations. Mr. Madison therefore, found that all his faculties and attention were called to the per- formance of high and extraordinary duties. Questions continually arose which required profound researches into ihe elements of the law of nations, and for the correct ex~ 88 MADISON. position and security of the rights of his country, he liad to contend with the most experienced and accomphshed ministers in Europe. England, as she was more powerful on the ocean, than any other nation, had committed the greatest and most frequent aggressions on the sovereign rights of the United States. As early as the summer of 1804, a British frigate, the Cambrian, with other cruizers in company, while the two countries were at peace, actually entered the harbour of New- York, and her commander, in violation of the laws, relative both to health and revenue, caused a merchant vessel just arrived, and admitted to be within the limits and under the authority of the United States, to be boarded by persons under his command, and who, after resisting the officers of the port, in the legal exe- cution of their duties, actually impressed and carried off a number of seamen and passengers in British ships of war. This was not only a flagrant insult to the sovereignty of the nation, but a palpable infraction on its neutrality also, which did not permit a belligerent ship, to augment in this manner, its force, within a neutral territory. And this was not all ; the commander of the Cambrian went so far as to declare, in his official capacity to the government of the United States, that he considered his ship, whilst lying in the har- bour of New-York, as having dominion around her within the distance of her buoys. Various other irregularities and encroachments of British ships of war, had both before and after this period, taken place ; and a detailed statement of them^ in the just expectation of honorable reparation, was made to the British go/ernment, but none was ever offered. So far from it, that even the captain who committed these outrages, was advanced from a frigate to the command of a ship of the line. Other outrages upon the peace and sove- reignty of the United States followed in rapid succession. Among the most important were those directed by Captain Whitby, of the frigate Leander. He, as superior in com- mand of sev^eral British frigates, had for a long tim^, vexed and harassed the inward and outward trade of our ports, and finally, to close a series of lawless conduct, he attempted to arrest a coasting vessel in the harbour of New- York, by which an American citizen was killed by a cannon ball, which entered the vessel whilst lying within less than a mile from the shore. It can easily be imagined, that the sensi- bility of the American people was aroused from one end of the country to the other, at this bloody act, committed within the sanctuary of her own territorial jurisdiction. A solema I MADISON. 89 appeal to the justice of Great Britain was made, with a de- mand that the offender should receive the exemplary pun- ishment which he so richly deserved ; and that there might be no failure of legal proof of a fact sufficiently notorious of itself, the most unexceptionable witnesses to establish it, were sent to Great Britain, at the expense of the United States. Yet after all, the British Captain was not only acquitted, but promoted, and no apology or explanation was ever made by that government, as a conciliatory offering to the disappoint- ment of this country, at such a result. It was not long after this deliberate insult was offered to the rights and sovereignty of our country, before another of an extraordinary character occurred. In the month of Sep- tember, 1806, the Impeteur, a French ship of 74 guns, was run aground within a few hundred yards of the shore of North Carolina, and of course was visibly within the territori- al jurisdiction and hospitable protection of the United States. While in this distressing situation, she was fired upon, board- ed and burnt by several British ships of war, then hovering around the coast. Having completed this, in addition to other outrages on the sovereignty and neutrality of the United States, the British commander proceeded with his fleet into the waters near Norfolk ; and although enjoying every hospitality which one friendly people could afford to another, he refused to discharge from his ships, the impress- ed American seamen, acknowledged to be such, on the ground that the government of the United States had refus- ed to surrender to Admiral Berkley, certain seamen alleged to be British deserters — a demand which it was well under- stood the British government disclaimed any right to make, knowing that it was not warranted either by mutual treaties or the law of nations. This insult was aggravated, from the very circumstance, that not half a century had elapsed, since, in consequence of a similar violation of neutral terri- tory, by the destruction of certain French ships on the coast of Portugal, by a British squadron under the command of a favourite British Admiral, the Court of Great Britain des- patched a minister extraordinary for the express purpose of expiating the aggression on the sovereignty of a friendly power. In consequence of these repeated insults and injuries, the well known proclamation was published, interdicting to them the use and privileges of the harbours and waters of the United States. This proclamation was dated July 2, 1807^ 8* 90 MADISON. in the hope and expectation, that Great Britain would from a sense of justice and humanity, put an end to the uncontroul- ed and licentious spirit of her naval commanders. It ought to be observed, that this proclamation was not issued, until after the unjustifiable and outrageous attack upon the Chesapeak, by the British ship of war Leopard ; a case too familiar with every American to need a particular recital. It is sufficient to say, that the attack on the Chesa- peak was most wanton and outrageous, without any real pre- tence of law or justice, and this too, made on a ship unpre- pared for battle, especially against the force of a power who at that very moment, was professing the most sincere desire for peace and harmony between the two countries. The event of this encounter aroused the feelings of the people of the United States to the highest degree of excitement. It was considered as a most cruel and unprovoked attack, not made, so much for the object pretended, that of reclaim- ing a deserter, as to insult our flag, and mortify and wound the spirit of every American patriot. Public meetings were called together in every section of the country, from Maine to Georgia, and from the Atlantic to the Mississippi, and one universal burst of indignation was every where express- ed at this additional outrage upon the rights and sovereign- ty of the United States. No atonement was offered by the British government, al- though repeated efforts were made to obtain redress in a peaceable manner, rather than to have recourse to arms, the last, though sometimes the only resort, left a nation to obtain satisfaction for injuries already sustained, or security of her rights in future. Such were some of the principal acts of encroachment, practised by Great Britain, upon the sovereignty of the United States, as well in direct opposition to the principles by which that kingdom had always professed herself to be governed, as against the acknowledged laws of nations. Kngland, however, was not alone in this un- justifiable invasion of the rights of a neutral nation. — France, also, in her career of almost universal domin- ion, although from the inferiority of her naval force, it was not in her power to affect our rights on the ocean, to as great an extent as Great Britain ; yet by her arbitrary decrees and confiscations in foreign ports, greatly interrupted and ahnost sacrificed the commerce of the United States in vari- ous oarts of the world. In the midst of these embarrass- ments, created by tue conduct of the two most formidable powers in Europe, both of whom seemed determined to in- i MADISON. 91 Tolve the whole world in a participation of the war waged between them, Mr. Madison particularly distinguished him- self in his correspondence and negociations with the minis- ters of both nations. The administration were sincerely dis- posed in favor of preserving peace, if it could be maintained without a sacrifice of the indubitable rights of a free and independent people. War was, on every consideration, to be avoided if possible, — it was contrary to the spirit and wishes of our fellow-citizens. The United States had thriv- ed and grown up under the benign blessings of peace, be- yond any former example on the page of history. To avoid the distressing consequences of war, therefore, the adminis- tration exerted every means in their power, to preserve the honour and rights of the country, by amicable and peaceful arrangements. In this attempt, no statesman ever displayed a greater fund of learning, a more equal temper, or more acute reasoning and triumphant logic, than Mr. Madison. He left his adver- saries without justification, and made it apparent to the world, that the two great belligerent powers in Europe, dis- regarding principles, relied on nothing but their naval and military strength. The masterly state papers written by him, during this period of national suffering, contain a fund of argument for future occasions, applicable to almost every variety of incident, to which a warfare among nations can give rise. After having performed the arduous duties of Secretary of State, during Mr. Jefferson's administration ; in the per- formance of which, he had so remarkably distinguished himself, as a scholar, a statesman, and patriot, Mr. Madison, in the year 1808, was elected by a great majority of votes, President of the United States. On the 4th of March, 1809, he was sworn to the faithful performance of the high trust reposed in him ; greater perhaps, than that of any other of- fice held by man — the guardianship of the rights, liberties, and religion often millions of free and independent people. Entering upon the presidency, he found the difficulties between this and foreign nations, which for a time seemed to be diminisiiing, now greatly increased. The restrictive system adopted under the former administration, was still adhered to, with the double view of protecting our own com- merce, and withholding supplies from those powers who had so unjustly violated the rights of the United States. The war in Europe had been carried on to an extent, never be- 92 MADISON. fore witnessed, since the invasion of ancient Rome. Not content with actual battle between themselves, France and England, though both engaged in a deadly contest with each other, seemed simultaneously to resolve, that no country should remain neutral. The Berlin and Milan decrees, on the part of France, and the Orders of Council, on that of Great Britain, were issued, which at once put an end to the security or safety of all commercial enterprise, pursued by American merchants. In this state of difficulty and embar- rassment, no alternative was left for government, to protect her undoubted rights and prifileges, but that, of a declara- tion of hostilities, against that nation, who had by her im- pressment of our seamen, by the plunder of our commerce, and by her repeated and outrageous violations of the sovereignty of a neutral nation, forfeited every claim upon the hospitality or friendly intercourse with the United States. President Madison was fully aware of the magnitude of the measure, and its probable consequences ; but after so many years of lawless depredation, he felt as though the crisis had arrived, when the honour, as well as the best interests of the country, demanded decisive and energetic measures on the part of government. Accordingly, agreeable to his recom- mendation, it was declared by congress, " that war be, and the same is hereby declared to exist, between the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and the dependences thereof, and the United States of America, and their Terri- tories ; and that the President of the United States is hereby authorized to use the whole land and naval force of the United States, to carry the same into effect, and to issue to private armed vessels of the United States, commissions, or letters of marque and general reprisal, in such form as he shall think proper, and under the seal of the U. States, against the vessels, goods, and effects, of the government of the said United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, and the subjects thereof" This act, commonly known by the name of the eecond war for independence, was approved on the 18th of June, 1812. Like all other contests, in which questions of right, are submitted to the decision of the sword, this war was distin- guished for its vicissitudes ; although it finally terminated to the honour and advantage of the United States. At the commencement of the conflict, the enemy appeared to possess the most decided advantage. Her ships of war off the principal ports of our citieSj and her troops on the MADISON. 93 northern frontier, as if in anticipation of the event, which had now taken place, were already in motion. Our merchant ships, especially those on their return from distant and long voyages, fell an easy prey to their superior force. The north-western army, under the command of General Hull, was compelled to surrender to the British forces, led on by General Brock. Detroit, the key of that part of the Terri- tories of the United States, of course, fell into the hands of the British ; which opened a free communication with the numerous tribes of Indians already prepared by the seduc- tions and artifices of English agents, to commit every barbarity peculiar to Indian warfare. Other similar, though less important events, took place at the early period of the war. As the War continued, however, the achievements of American warriors, both by land and sea, were such as to shed an imperishable lustre on the name of the Repui)iic, the reputation of whose heroic sons, will continue to shine with a brilliancy that no time can efface. The first naval enll not fail to assign to him the first rank among the most enlightened of statesmen and *he firmest of patriots. This distinguished individual, who has, for the last fit- teen years, attracted so much of the attention and admira- tion of the American people, was born in that district of the country now known by the name of Kentucky ; it not then being constituted a state. His parents were respectable, but not wealthy. He however received, through the aid of friends and relations, all the advantages of an early educa- tion, which the means of that pa of the country, at the time, would admit. Having determined upon the course of life most congenial to his genius and taste, he completed his term of instruction, and was admitted to the bar at the early age of twenty-one. He had scarcely commenced his professional career, before he was recognised as one of the most able and eloquent men in the western states. In the powers of reasoning, in elo- quence of debate, united to the talent of deep and cutting sarcasm, in which, perhaps, he sometimes too freely indulged, he was without a competitor. Possessed of these great ad- vantages, splendid talents of his own, and the highest confi- dence of the community, he continued in practice of the law for several years, with unexampled success. But the time was now arriving when it was considered that such powers as were possessed by Mr. Clay, belonged not to a section, but ought to be exerted for the good of the nation at large. He was, in consequence, elected, almost unanimously, a member of congress by his fellow-citizens in 1809. The high reputation, which he held in his native state, was not unknown at Washington, and the display of his talents, during the succeeding congress, afforded abundant proof that he richly deserved it. It can easily be perceived in what estimation he was held by the national council, from the cir- cumstance, that although but comparatively a new member, he was, in 1811, elected Speaker of the House of Represen- tatives, an ofhce, especially during the session of congress, viewed either as it respects its labour, responsibility, or influ- ence, is second to none, save that of the President. His address to the House, on the occasion, was such as might be expected from such a man — expressing, indeed, diffidence in his ability to discharge the duties devolved upon him, but CLAY. 117 replete with the sentmients of an American patriot and statesman. It was during this period of time, that war with Great Bri- tain was contemplated by the administration, and many bills, preparatory to this event, were successively introduced into Congress, which were warmly discussed, by both parties, in the House. The encroachments of the two great belligerent powers in Europe, especially that of Great Britain, upon our indisputable rights, were not only persevered in, but increas- ed to such an extent, that, in the view of government, no choice was left, but either to submit to the abject and humil- iating condition of dependants upon the will of a foreign nation ; or to rise in our strength, and maintain those rights and interests which had been acquired by the war of inde- pendence. The latter alternative was chosen ; and accord- ingly, on the 18tli day of June, 18r2, war was declared against Great Britain. Mr. Clay, owing to his situation as Speaker of the House, was prevented from taking, in public, so active a part as some others, in the debates on this subject ; yet it is well known that he was zealously engaged in favour of the measure, considering it as absolutely necessary, for our preservation, as an independent nation. A special session of the new congress was held in May, 1813, when Mr. Clay was re-elected Speaker, by a large majority ; Mr. Pitkin, of Connecticut, being the rival candi- date, and supported by those who were opposed to the war. He continued in this office until January, 1814, when he wa.s appointed a joint commissioner with Mr. Gallatin, Adams, Bayard and Russell, for the purpose of effecting a treaty of peace with Great Britain. The commissioners, American and British, held their sittings at Ghent, where the well known treaty of peace, between the two countries, was con- cluded in the month of December followino-. During; the protracted negociations which preceded this important event, without intending the least disparagement to the merit of others, it is but justice to remark, that next to Mr. Adams, now President of the United States, no one stood more con- spicuous for industry, talents and patriotism, than Mr. Clay. On his return to the United States, he ivas every where greeted with affection and respect, by his fellow-citizens^ especially in his native state, where he v/as again chosen a member of tlie ensuing congress, by which he was once mOiO elected Speaker. He continued in this situation, with the exception of one or two sessions of congress, which arose 118 CLAY. from the necessity of his attending to his private affairs at home ; until the 4th of March, 1825. During this long pe- riod of official duty, as Speaker of the House of Representa- tives, Mr. Clay was justly entitled to the gratitude of his coun- try for the distinguished ability and fidelity with which he performed his public duties, both in the character of a mem- ber of congress, individually, and in that of the presiding officer of that dignified body. While the patriots of Colombia, Mexico, and the other provinces of Spain, were engaged in a doubtful and bloody struggle for liberty, he exerted all his powers of reason, elo- quence and influence, to induce our government to stretch forth its helping hand to their assistance. As a friend of liberty to mankind, throughout the world, he also early en- gaged in the cause of the Greeks, then and now engaged with the infidel Turk, fighting for their redemption, from the most abject and cruel despotism. His speeches, on these important subjects, have shed a lustre upon the talents and patriotism of our country. They were read with admiration in various parts of the world, and the different congresses in South America voted him their thanks and gratitude, for the disinterested, generous, and manly exertions which he had made in behalf of their infant republics. Mr. Clay was also an ardent patron of domestic manufactures and internal im- provements. Although Mr. Clay had, for so many years, attracted the attention of the public, he was, in the year 1824, placed in a still more prominent point of view, than he had ever been before. The period had then arrived when a successor to the venerable James Monroe, as President of the United States, was to be selected from the many eminent statesmen of our country. From the high estimation, for talents and patriotism, in which Mr. Clay was held, it may well be sup- posed that he would be supported as a candidate for that ex- alted station, by a great proportion of his fellow-citizens. But other statesmen were also presented as candidates to the public view ; and Mr. Clay found himself placed in competi- tion with Mr. Adams, General Jackson, Mr. Crawford, and Mr, Calhoun, all of them eminently distinguished for their abilities and services rendered to their country. Mr. Kremer, a Member of Congress from Pennsylvania and enthusiastically attached to the interests of Gen. Jack- son, caused a letter to be published in the City of Philadel- ^ia, in which the rights of the people were stated to be in CLAY. 119 the utmost danger, that another Burr intrigue had already commenced, and that Mr. Clay was about to sacrifice the in- terests of his country, for the accomplishment of selfish pur- poses. It can easily be imagined with what feelings of indig- nation he read this most unwarrantable attack upon hischar- I acter — a character, which for great abilities and ardent pat- riotism, had never before been called in question, even by his most violent political adversaries. " This conspiracy," says an able writer in the National Journal some weeks after. " This conspiracy of which the " contemptible Kremer was the instrument and scape-goat, " but in which we are confident General Jackson had no par- " ticipation, had a three-fold object in view — to intimidate " Mr. Clay from supporting Mr. Adams in the contest for the " Presidency — to prevent him from accepting the office of *' Secretary of State, in case of the election of that gentle- " man, that the Cabinet might be weakened for the want of "his talents — and to destroy him in public estimation, that he " might be no longer a barrier to the success of their candi- " date at a future election." On the 9th of February, 1S25, after the usual formalities observed on so important an occasion, Mr. Adams was cho- sen on the first balloting, and accordingly declared President of the United States, for four years from the 4th day of March then next ensuing, he having the votes of thir- teen States, Gen. Jackson of seven, and Mr. Crawford of four. The event was attributed to the influence of Mr. Clay over his colleagues from the western States, and the friends of Gen. Jackson in the bitterness of their disappoint- ment, once more renewed their clamour of intrigue and treachery. That Mr. Clay had a perfect right to the exercise of his own judgment in the choice of President, no one will deny. He had, as has already been mentioned, long before made up his opinion, after mature deliberation, that Mr. Adams was the most proper person of the three candidates to fill that important office. Though personally and politically friendly to Mr. Crawford, he was opposed to his election, on account of his ill health, which had so long continued, as to preclude the hope that it would never be fully restored. His objections to Gen. Jackson were of a different kind ; he did not consider him as possessed of those qualifications which were in his view requisite to the discharge of the du-* ties of the Chief Magistrate of a free people. Mr. Clay no CLAY. had some years before, in an eloquent speech on the Semi- nole war, uttered these sentiments. He had then contended that Gen. Jackson was unfit to be trusted with high power, on account of his strong propensity to abuse it ; in exemplifica- tion of which he specified in particular, what he alledged to be, the unwarrantable execution of certain Indian Chiefs, of Arbuthnot and Ambristor ; the latter of whom, in opposi- tion to the sentence of a Court Martial appointed by the General himself; which he pronounced a wanton and lawless usurpation of power, worse, as he declared, than the execu- tion of the Duke D'Enghien by the Emperor Napoleon. Re- specting the Indians, he complained of the mode of their capture ; not, as he declared, " in the course of fair, and open, and honourable war ; — no, but by means of deception ; by hoisting foreign colours on the staff, from which the stars and stripes alone should have floated." In entering upon the discharge of the duties of his office, it became necessary for Mr. Adams to form a new adminis- tration, and he made choice of Mr. Clay to be Secretary of State. This event was, of course, eagerly laid hold of by his enemies, as being conclusive proof of his having sold his vote and influence for the sake of office. But all unprejudiced men then, and the whole nation now know, that his elevation was owing to far different causes. His merits alone raised him to this exalted station. After having attended to, and arranged the business of his office, into which he had so lately been introduced, he left Washington, upon a visit to his native state. Contrary to the hopes and expectations of his enemies, he was every where received with all possible marks of respect. In his own state, where he was always exceedingly popular, he was received with an unusual degree of enthusiasm. In each of the sev- eral counties, comprising the district, which he had so often represented in congress, he was received with every token of undiminished confidence and admiration ; even those who had been the supporters of General Jackson, participated in the festivities which took place, in honour to him, in order publicly to manifest their conviction, that, whatever their po- litical differences may have been, his conduct had been gov- erned by the most pure and upright motives. Such was the reception of a man by those of his fellow-citizens, whose wish" es, it was falsely said, he had slighted, and whose interests he had betrayed. Mr. Crawford, late Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, was born in the State of Virginia, about the year 1763. He early emigrated to the State of Georgia, where he engaged himself in the instruction of youth in the higher branches of education. He soon after was admitted to the bar and continued in the practice of the law with em- inent success for several years. By the suavity of his man- ners, his strict integrity and solid talents, he soon attracted the attention and confidence of the public. He was elected a member of the State Legislature of Georgia, to which he was for several years successively chosen ; in which capacity both in the House of Representatives, and in the Senate, he was justly distinguished as one of the most upright and in- telligent statesmen in her public councils. Such was the confidence, reposed in his talents and integ- rity, that in 1800 he was selected, by the unanimous vote of the legislature, to revise and digest the code of laws of the state. This arduous duty, in conjunction with those associ- ated, was performed to the high satisfaction of the public, and the system, recommended by him, has, with very little variation, continued in force to the present day. The confidence, which his commanding talents and high reputation had induced his fellow-citizens to repose m him, continued to increase ; and he was, in the earlier part of President Jefferson's administration, chosen Senator in the Congress of the United States. He was, in that enlightened and venerable body, soon recognised as an able and patriotic supporter of the rights and liberties of his country. Amidst the difficulties and embarrassments under which the country was obliged to struggle, at that time, owing to the unprece- dented encroachments made by the belligerent powers of Europe upon our national rights, Mr. Crawford was partic- ularly distinguished for the decided and independent course which he pursued. In order to avoid war, as the worst of all national calamities, he was in favour of effecting, by negoci- ation, if possible, the security of those rights which had been acquired at the expense of so much blood and treasure. He therefore fully accorded with the administration in every attempt to produce an amicable and honourable adjustment !>ntinue to be a blessing to his country. DE -WITT CZiXSTT02Sr. De Witt Clinton, the present governor of the State of New- York, is the son of the late Major-General James Clin- ton, who so highly distinguished himself, both in the French war and in that of our national independence. He was born in the county of Ulster, in the State of New- York, in 1764, where he received an excellent education. He was early brought into public life, being selected by his uncle, George Clinton, who was for many years governor of that state, and afterwards, vice-president of the United States, as his private secretary. During several years of the political excitement which existed not only between the various parties in his native state, but throughout the whole United States, he took a most conspicuous part ; and although young, was recog- nised as one of the ablest scholars and statesmen, of which the country could boast. Possessed of splendid talents, and upheld by powerful fkmily connections, he soon occupied an important station in the councils and government of the state. As Mayor of the City of New- York, and as Senator in the State Legisla- ture, he was alike distinguished for the firmness, ability and patriotism with which he discharged these important trusts. He was afterwards elected a Senator in the Congress of the United States, and remained in that important situation, during several years of the most critical and interesting peri- od of our national history. It is supposed that it was in a great measure owing to his influence and exertions, that war 'with Spain was at that time avoided. That nation, more powerful then, than she is at present, possessing that im- mense territory extending west of the Mississippi, endeavor- ed by arbitrary measures, not only to interrupt, but wholly to obstruct the navigation of the United States on that majes- ric river, which was the only outlet for the products of the western states to the Atlantic, The feelings of that part of the country were never more highly excited, than they were, upon this outrageous attempt on the part of Spain. A decla- ration of war was insisted upon by those, whose interests were affected ; but a majority in the national councils, were opposed to so serious a measure ; and were in favour of ob- taining the desired object, by friendly negotiation, rath€F fhan to have recourse to arms. 1^28 CLINTON. It was during the discussion of this subject in the Senate, that Mr. Ross, a distinguished statesman from Pennsylvania, whose constituents, west of the Alleghany Mountains, were almost entirely dependent upon an uninterrupted navigation of the Ohio and Mississippi, declared, that he would be the first to take up arms and lead his fellow-citizens to the con- quest of New-Orleans ; to which Mr. Clinton immediately replied, in an under tone of voice, that if he did, he would be the first to hand a halter to the hangman, for his execution. A favourable adjustment of all difficulties on this highly important subject, soon after took place. Spain transferred the country to France, of whom by purchase, the United States obtained possession of those vast and extensive terri- tories of the west. In 1812, Mr. Clinton was supported by a large proportion of his fellow-citizens, for the office of Presi- dent of the United States ; they considering him, as the most suitable person to guide and direct the national councils, at that eventful period. He received the almost unanimous vote of his native state, as well as a majority of the New- England states. Mr. Madison was however again elected. The friends of Gov. Clinton were earnestly solicited to with- draw their support of him, as a candidate, by the assurance that at the expiration of Mr. Madison's administration, he would receive the majority of votes of the people of the United States, for that office. They however, in their reply, considered Mr. Clinton not at liberty, consistent with a due regard to the rights and interests of the American people to Avithdraw himself as a candidate for the office of president, at the then ensuing election. Tho} represented the nomina- tion of Mr. Madison by a caucus, at that time, as a criminal intrigue, which staked the honour and fortune of the United States, against an office, which brought on war without pre- paration ; and as then conducted, left no hopes to avenge the violated rights, or to retrieve the tarnished glory of the country. Mr. Clinton was subsequently chosen Governor of the State of New-York, in which office he continued until the year 1824, when he declined being considered as a candidate for re-elsction. Throughout his wliole public life, he was dis- tinguished for decision of character, for constancy and firm- «ess of mind, which were almost unparalleled. Notwith- standing his engagements in public life as a statesman, Mr. Clinton never lost sight of his literary and philosophical pur- CLINTON. 12^ suits. He had early imbibed a taste for classical and scien- tific acquirements, in the attainment of which, he has ever held a pre-eminent rank. As president of various societies, instituted for the promotion of learning, and the cultivation of the arts and sciences, he has perhaps been more particu- larly distinguished than any other individual in the U. States, The various communications and addresses made by him to these enlightened associations, have shed a lustre upon the literature of our country, and have been received both in this country and in Europe, as an acquisition to the general fund of information, so essential to the peace, happiness and prosperity of mankind. But by far the most important act of the public life of this distinguished individual, was the projection and final comple- tion of the great canal between Lake Erie and the Hudson, by which the waters of the American Mediterranean are united with those of the Atlantic Ocean. Although, perhaps, Mr. Clinton was not the first to conceive this great under- taking, it is now universally acknowledged, that it was owing to his unwearied exertions and commanding influence, both as an enlightened individual, and a public benefactor, that this vast object was ultimately accomplished. It was at first violently opposed, by the personal and political opponents of Mr. Clinton, as a wild and visionary scheme of an aspiring politician ; and it required the patience of years, and the ir- resistible reasonings of a statesman and patriot, before the public could be induced to support their chief magistrate in the execution of the project. Time, however, unveiled their eyes, and the necessary measures to commence the under- taking were adopted by the legislature. Mr, Clinton, as Governor of the State of New- York, is enjoying the respect and admiration of his countrymen. Ac- customed to the honours of the public, he appears desirous of obtaining those reserved for him in future, only through pub- lic services. That these will be performed, in whatever situ- ation of public life he may be placed, his long-tried integrity and talents leaye no room for doubt. Genera^ Andrew Jackson was born in the State of South Carolina, in the year 1762. His father, soon after his emigration from Europe, fell a victim to an epidemic, which then prevailed in Charleston. It was the peculiar good for- tune of the son to be left under the care and instruction of an excellent mother, who spared no pains or expense in his early education. He was originally destined for the ministry, but the war of the American revolution having been commenced, he early joined himself to the standard of his injured country, and during a considerable period of that trying crisis, he distinguished himself for his gallant and patriotic conduct. After the conclusion of the war, he commenced the study of the law, under a distinguished jurist in the state of North Carolina, and was, at the expiration of the limited period, admitted to practice in the courts of that state. His active and enterprising spirit, however, was not content with the prospect which was there presented to his view. In 1788, iifter the death of his kind and affectionate mother, he remov- ed into that part of the South- West Territory, now called Tennessee, and established himself in the business of his pro- fession at Nashville, the now capital of that growing and re- spectable state. His talents were duly appreciated, and he was appointed a member of the convention to form a consti- tution, as the supreme law of the state. As he had become familiar with the views and interests of that section of the country, he particularly distinguished himself in procuring that form of government to his fellow-citizens which secured their civil rights, and the unlimited enjoyment of their reli- gious principles. The high estimation, in which he was held by the people of Tennessee, could not be more fully manifested than by their choice of him as their first representative to Congress, upon their admission into the union of the states. In the succeeding year he was unanimously elected a senator in that enlightened and dignified body of patriots and statesmen. After having remained in this capacity for several years, he resigned his seat, and was appointed a iiulge of the Supreme Cjurt of the state. In these various offices Mr. Jackson was recognised as an able and ardent supporter of the rights and ^vileges of the people, as well as the honour and dignity of JACKSON. 18i the nation. In 1779 he was called from the performance of his civil duties as a magistrate and judge, to the important station of a Major-General of the militia of the state. As she was then in her infancy, he was, by this appointment, consti- tuted the actual commander of the whole military force, and it was through his means, principally, that an efficient organ- ization of those brave troops was produced. In 1812, being still Major-General of the Tennessee mili- tia, he was, by the voice of his country, called to defend her rights in the field, as he had done for so many years in her public councils. General Jackson's first campaign was against the Creek tribe of Indians, who had joined -the Brit- ish in war upon the United States. Every species of barbar- ity, peculiar to Indian warfare, were practiced upon the west- ern frontiers. Conflagration and massacre were, in every direction witnessed, and the whole of that immense territory of the south and west became a scene of savage warfare, rare- ly, if ever, paralleled in the history of nations. In order to suppress these unhallowed outrages, General Jackson, pursuant to an act of congress, called upon his fel- low-citizens to volunteer in the service of their country, and save it from the depredations of an infuriated and implacable enemy. In a short time not less than three thousand men, ma- ny of whom were of the first families and fortunes in the state, flocked to his standard, and placed themselves under his com- mand, as an affectionate guardian and accomplished leader. With these forces, although during an inclement season of the year, he penetrated the strong holds and fastnesses of the hostile Indians, over whom, after repeated battles and innu- merable suff*erings, he obtained the most decisive victory, and once more restored peace and tranquillity to the distress- ed inhabitantsof that section of the country. War still continuing between Great Britain and the United States, great apprehensions were entertained by government for the safety of our navigation on tlie Mississippi. England, in consequence of peace in Europe, had now become enabled to direct her whole maritime and military force against the United States. She had already blockaded, invaded and burnt, several of our towns and cities, and now threatened the capture of New-Orleans, the key of the trade and com- merce of the western states. To prevent so great a calamity, and to repel an insulting and overbearing enemy, was the ardent desire of government, and General Jackson was se- lected as the most suitable commander to effect these great 132 JACKSON. objects. It is unnecessary here to relate, minutely, the par- ticulars of the well known victory obtained by the American over the British army, on the 8th of January, 1815. It is sufficient to observe, that the British, flushed with conquest over their enemies in Europe, and commanded by the most experienced generals, were, in their attempt upon New-Or- leans, not only repulsed, but driven back to their ships, after sustaining the loss of their principal officers, and a large pro- portion of the soldiers. It is estimated that not less than fourteen thousand men engaged, were led on to the attack, and defeated by General Jackson, with an army of less than six thousand troops, most of whom were raw militia and vol- unteers. Never was a victory more decisive, and its conse- quences, to the United States, were of incalculable import- ance. It not only saved that important section of the Union from plunder and desolation, but diffused, throughout the country, a spirit of confidence, which had become, in some degree shaken, by the events of the preceding campaign. For this great achievement, the United States may be said to be wholly indebted to the energy, skill and bravery displayed by General Jackson. In 1823, General Jackson was, by the legislature of Ten- nessee, again elected a Senator in the Congress of the Unit- ed States. In 1824, he was recommended as a suitable candidate for the Presidency of the United States. Other distinguished individuals were also supported for that exalted station, and no choice was made by the people in their elec- toral colleges, although General Jackson received a greater number of votes than either of the other candidates. By the constitution, the choice of President, under these circum- stances, devolved upon the House of Representatives, which honourable body, by a majority of two states, declared John Quincy Adams to be duly elected. Gen. Jackson, notwith- standing, enjoys the fullest confidence of his fellow-citizens, and the services which he has rendered his country will bo handed down with admiration to the latest posterity. PART II. THE LIVES, CHARACTERS, AND ANECDOTES OF THE MILITARY OFFICERS OF THE REVOLUTION WHO WERE MOST DISTINGUISHED IN ACHIEVING OUR INDEPENDENCE. ETHAN JLl^liEVT, Brigadier General in the American Army. General Allen was born in Salisbury, Conn, from whence, while he was yet young, his parents emigrated to Vermont. By this circumstance he was deprived of the ad- vantages of an early education. But, although he never felt its genial influence, nature had endowed him with strong powers of mind ; and when called to take the field, he show- ed himself an able leader, and intrepid soldier. At the commencement of the disturbances in Vermont, about the year 1770, he took a most active part in favor of the Green Mountain Boys, as the settlers were then called, in opposition to the government of New- York. Bold, enter- prising, and ambitious, he undertook to direct the proceed- ings of the inhabitants, and wrote several pamphlets to dis- play the supposed injustice, and oppressive designs of the New-York proceedings. The uncultivated roughness of his own temper and manners seems to have assisted him in giv- ing a just description of the views and proceedings of spe- culating land-jobbers. His writings produced effects so hos- tile to the views of the state of New-York, that an act of outlawry was passed against him, and five hundred guineas were offered for his apprehension. But his party was too numerous and faithful to permit hira to be disturbed by iny apprehensions for his safety. In all the struggles gf thai day 12 134 ALLEN. he was successful, and proved a valuable friend to those whose cause he had espoused. The news of the battle of Lexington determined Allen to engage on the side of his country, and inspired him with the desire of demonstrating his attachment to liberty by some bold exploit. While in this state of mind, a plan for taking Ticonderoga and Crown-Point, by surprise, which was formed by several gentlemen in Connecticut, was com- municated to him, and he readily engaged in the project. Receiving directions from the General Assembly of Con- necticut, to raise the Green Mountain Boys, and conduct the enterprise, he collected 230 of the hardy settlers, and proceeded to Castleton. Here he was unexpect- edly joined by Col. Arnold, who had been commissioned by the Massachusetts committee to raise 400 men, and effect the same object, which was now about to be accomplished. They reached the lake, opposite Ticonderoga, on the even- ing of the 8th of May, 1775. With the utmost difficulty boats were procured, and eighty-three men were landed near the garrison. Arnold now wished to assume the command, to lead on the men, and swore that he would go in himself the first. Allen swore that he should not. The dispute be- ginning to run high, some of the gentlemen present inter- posed, and it was agreed that both should go in together, Allen on the right hand and Arnold on the left. The fol- lowing is Allen's own account of the affair : — " The first systematical and bloody attempt at Lexington, to enslave America, thoroughly electrified my mind, and ful- ly determined me to take a part with my country. And while I was wishing for an opportunity to signalize myself in its behalf, directions were privately sent to me from the then colony, now state of Connecticut, to raise the Green Moun- tain Boys, and if possible, with them to surprise and take the fortress of Ticonderoga. This enterprise I cheerfully un- dertook ; and after first guarding all the several passes that lead thither, to cut off* all intelligence between the garrison and the country, made a forced march from Bennington, and arrived at the lake opposite Ticonderoga, on the evening of the ninth of May, 1775, with two hundred and thirty valiant Green Mountain Boys ; and it was with the utmost difficul- ty that I procured boats to cross the lake. However, I land- ed eighty-three men near the garrison, and sent t)ie boats back for the rear guard, commanded by Col. Seth Warner; but the day began to dawn, and I found myself neces.«i- ALLEN. )35 tated to attack the fort, before the rear could cross the lake ; and as it was viewed hazardous, I harangued the officers and soldiers in the manner following : — " Friends and fellow soldiers — You have, for a number of years past, been a scourge and terror to arbitrary powers. Your valor has been famed abroad, and acknowledged, as appears by the advice and orders to me from the general assembly of Con- necticut, to surprise and take the garrison now before us. I now propose to advance before you, and in person conduct you through the wicket gate ; for we must this morning ei- ther quit our pretensions to valor, or possess ourselves of this fortress in a few minutes ; and inasmuch as it is a des- perate attempt, which none but the bravest of men dare un- dertake, 1 do not urge it on any contrary to his will. You that will undertake voluntarily, poise your firelock." " The men beinjr at this time drawn up in three ranks, each poised his firelock. I ordered them to face to the right ; and at the head of the centre file marched them im- mediately to the wicket gate aforesaid, where 1 found a sen- try posted, who instantly snapped his fusee at me. I ran immediately towards him, and he retreated through the co- vered way into the parade wiihin the garrison, gave a hal- loo, and ran under a bomb proof My party who followed me into the fort, I formed on the parade in such a manner, as to face the barracks which faced each other. The gar- rison being asleep, except the sentries, we gave three huz- zas, which greatly surprised them. One of the sentries made a pass at one of my officers with a charged bayonet., and slightly wounded him. My first thought was to kill him with my sword, but in an instant I altered the design and fu- ry cf the blow to a slight cut on the side of the head ; upon which he dropped his gun and asked quarters, which I rea- dily granted hiin ; and demanded the place where the com- manding officer kept. He showed me a pair of stairs in the front of the garris^pn, which led up to a second story in said barracks, to which I immediately repaired, and ordered the commander. Captain Delaplace to come forth instantly, or I would sacrifice the whole garrison : At which time the cap- tain came immediately to the door, with his breeches in his hand, when 1 ordered him to deliver to me the fort instant- ly ; he asked me by what authority I demanded it. I an- swered him, " In the name of the great Jehovah, and the Continental Congress." The authority of Congress being very little known at that time, he began to speak again, but 136 ALLEN. I interrupted him, and with my drawn sword near his head again demanded an immediate surrender of the garrison ; with which he then complied, and ordered his men to be forthwith paraded without arms, as he had given up the gar- rison. In the mean time some of my officers had given or- ders, and in consequence thereof, sundry of the barrack doors were beat down, and about one third of the garrison imprisoned, which consisted of said commander, a Lieute- nant Feltham, a conductor of artillery, a gunner, two ser- geants, and forty-four rank and file ; about one hundred pieces of cannon, one thirteen inch mortar, and a number of swivels. This surprise was carried into execution in the grey of the morning of the 10th of May, 1775. The sun seemed to rise that morning with a superior lustre ; and Ti- conderoga and its dependencies smiled on its conquerors, who tossed about the flowing bgwl, and wished success to Congress, and the liberty and freedom of America. Happy it was for me, at that time, that the future pages of the book of fate, which afterwards unfolded a miserable scene of two years and eight months imprisonment, were hid from my view." This brilliant exploit secured to Allen a high reputation for intrepid valor throughout the country. In the fall of 1773, he was sent twice into Canada to observe the disposi- tions of the people, and attach them, if possible, to the Ame- rican cause. During one of these excursions he made a rash and romantic attempt upon Montreal. He had been sent by General Montgomery with a guard of eighty men, on a tour into the villages in the neighborhood. On his re- turn he was met by a Major Brown, who had been on the same business. It was agreed between them to make a de- scent upon the island of Montreal. Allen was to cross the river, and land with his party a little north of the city ; while Brown was to pass over a little to the south, with near 200 men. Allen crossed the river in the night;, as had been pro- posed, but by some means Brown and his party failed. In- stead of returning, Allen, with great rashness, concluded to maintain his ground. General Carlton soon received intel- ligence of Allen's situation, and the smallness of his num- bers, and marched out against him with about 40 regulars and a considerable number of English, Canadians and In- dians, amounting, in the whole, to some hundreds. Allen attempted to defend himself, but it was to no purpose. Be- ALLEiN. 137 iiig deserted by several of his men, and having fifteen killed, he, with thirty-eight of his men, were taken prisoners. He was now kept for some time in irons, and was treated with the most rigorous and unsparing cruelty. From his narrative it appears that the irons placed on him were un- commonly heavy, and so fastened, that he could not lie down, otherwise than on his back. A chest was his seat by day and his bed by night. Soon after his capture, still load- ed with irons, he was sent to England, being assured that the halter would be the reward of his rebellion when he arrived there. Finding that threats and menaces had no effect upon him, high command and a large tract of the conquered coun- try was afterwards offered him, on condition he would join the British. To the last he replied, " that he viewed their offer of conquered United States land to be similar to that which the devil offered to Jesus Christ ; to give him all the kingdoms of the world, if he would fall down and worship him, when, at the same time, the poor devil had not one foot of land upon earth." After his arrival, about the middle of December, he was lodged, for a short time, in Fendennis Castle, near Fal- mouth. On the 8th of January, 1776, he was put onboard a frigate, and by a circuitous route again carried to Halifax. Here he remained closely conlined in the jail from June to October, when he was removed to New- York. During the passage to this place. Captain Burke, a daring prisoner, pro- posed to kill the British captain and seize the frigate ; but Allen refused to engage in the plot, and was probably the means of saving the life of Captain Smith, who had treated him with kindness. He was kept at New- York about a year and a half, sometimes imprisoned, and sometimes permitted to be on parole. While here he had an opportunity to ob- serve the inhuman manner in which the American prisoners were treated. In one of the churches in which they were crowded, he saw seven lying dead at one time, and otheral biting pieces of chips from hunger. He calculated, that of the prisoners taken on Long-island and at Fort Washington^ near 2000 perished by hunger and cold, or in consequence of diseases occasioned by the impurity of their prisons. Col. Allen was exchanged for Col. Campbell, May 6th, 1778, and after having repaired to head quarters, and offer* ed his services to General Washington, in case his health should be restored, he returned to Vermont. His arrival, on the evening of the last day of May, gave his frienda great joy* *12 138 CLINTON. and it was announced by the discharge of cannon. As an expression of confidence in his patriotism and military ta- lents, he was very soon appointed to the command of the state miUtia. His intrepidity, however, was never again brought to the test, though his patriotism was tried by an unsuccessful attempt of the British to bribe him to attempt an union of Vermont with Canada. He died suddenly on his estate, February 13, 1789. Gen. Allen was brave, humane and generous ; yet his conduct does not seem to have been much influenced by considerations respecting that holy and merciful Being, whose character and whose commands are disclosed to us in the scriptures. His notions with regard to religion were loose and absurd. He believed with Pythagoras, the hea- then philosopher, that man, after death, would transmigrate into beasts, birds, fishes, reptiles, fcc. and, often informed his friends that he expected to live again in the form of a large white horse. JAMSS CI tnand in the south, his former judgment and fortune seemed to forsake him. He w as anxious to come to action innnedi- ately, and to terminate the war by a few bold and energetic measures ; and two days after his arrival in camp, he began his march to meet the enemy, without properly estimating his force. The active spirits of the place being roused and encour- aged, by the presence of a considerable army, and daily flocking to the standard of their country. General Gates, by a delay of action, had much to gain, in point of numbers. To the prospects of the enemy, on the contrary, delay would have been ruinous. To them there was no alternative but immediate battle and victory, or immediate retreat. Such, however, was the nature of the country, and the distance and relative position of the two armies, that to compel the Americans to action was impossible. The imprudence of the American general, in hazarding an engagement, at this * When the appointment of General Gates to the chiftf com- mand of the southern army was announced. General Lee remark- ed, that '"'■his northern later ds voiratd »o(m be e^cftan^ed fur snutlP- J&6 GATES. (ime, is flutber manifested by the fact, that in troops, on whose firmness he could safely rely, he was greatly inferior to his foe, they amounting to sixteen hundred veteran and highly disciplined regulars, and he having less than a thou- sand continentals. Gen. Gates having retreated to Salisbury, and thence to Hillsborough, he there succeeded in collecting around him the fragments of an army. Being soon afterwards rein- forced by several small bodies of regulars and militia, he again advanced towards the south, and took post in Char- lotte. Here he continued in command until the 5th day oi October, fifty days after his defeat at Camden, when Con- gress passed a resolution requiring the commander in chief to order a court of inquiry on his conduct, as commander of the southern army, and to appoint some oth^r officer to that command. The inquiry resulted in his acquittal ; and it was the general opinion that he w^as not treated by congress with that delicacy, or mdeed gratitude, that was due to an officer of his acknowledged merit. He, however, received the order of his supersedure and suspension, and resigned the command to Gen. Greene with becoming dignity, as is manifested, much to his credit, in the following order : — '• Head-Quarters, Charlotte, 3d December, 1780. Parole, Springfield — countersign, Greene. The honorable Major-General Greene, who arrived yes- terday afternoon in Charlotte, being appointed, by his Ex- cellency General Washington, with the approbation of the honorable congress, to the command of the southern army, all orders will, for the future, issue from him, and all re- ports are to be made to him. General Gates returns his sincere and grateful thanks to the southern army for their perseverance, fortitude, and pa- tient endurance of all the hardships they have undergone, while under his command. He anxiously hopes their mis- fortunes will cease therewith, and that victory, and the glo- rious advantages of it, may be the future portion of the southern army." General Greene had already been, and continued to be, the firm advocate of the reputation of General Gates, par- ticularly if he heard it assailed with asperity ; and still be- lieved and asserted, that if there was any mistake in the conduct of GsLteSj it was in hazarding an action at srW against GATES. 157 «uch superior force ; and when informed of his appointmeiil to supersede him, declared his confidence in his miUtary ta- lents, and his wilhngness to " serve under him." General Gates was reinstated in his military command, in the main army, in 1782 ; but the great scenes of war were now passed, and he could only participate in the pain- ful scene of a final separation. In the midst of his misfortune, General Gates was called to mourn the afflictive dispensation of Providence, in the death of his only son. Major Garden, in his excellent pub- hcation, has recorded the following aftecting anecdote, which he received from Dr. William Reed : — " Having occasion to call on General Gates, relative to the business of the department under my immediate charge, f found him traversing the apartment which he occupied, under the influence of high excitement ; his agitation was excessive — every feature of his countenance, every gesture betrayed it. Oificial despatches informing him that he was superseded, and that the command of the southern army had been transferred to General Greene, had just been received and perused by him. His countenance, however, betrayed no expression of irritation or resentment ; it was sensibility alone that caused his emotion. An open letter, which he held in his hand, was often raised to his lips, and kissed with devotion, while the exclamation repeatedly escaped them — " Great man ! Noble, generous procedure !" When the tumult of his mind had subsided, and his thoughts found utterance, he, with strong expression of feeling, exclaimed, '■' 1 have received this day a communication from the com- mander in chief, which has conveyed more consolation to my bosom, more ineffable delight to my heart, than I had bc- Heved it possible for it ever to have felt again. With affec- tionate tenderness he sympathizes with me in my domestic misfortunes, and condoles with me on the loss I have sus- tained by the recent death of an only son ; and then with peculiar delicacy, lamenting my misfortune in battle, assures me, that his confidence in my zeal and capacity is so little impaired, that the command of the right wing of the army will be bestowed on me so soon as I can make it convenient to join him." After the peace, he retired to his farm in Berkley county, Va. where he remained until the year 1790, when he went to reside in New-York, having first emancipated his slaves and made a pecuniary provision for such as were not able tp 14 158 GREENE. provide for themselves. Some of them would not leave him, but continued in his family. On his arrival at 5*Je\v-York, the freedom of the city was presented to him. In 1800 he accepted a seat in the legis- lature, but he retained it no longer than he conceived his services might be useful to the cause of liberty, which he never abandoned. His political opinions did not separate him from many re- spectable citizens, whose views differed widely from his own. He had a handsome person, and was gentlemanly in his manners, remarkably courteous to all, and gave indispu- table marks of a sociable, amiable, and benevolent disposi- tion. A few weeks before his death, he closed a letter to a friend in the following vvords : — " I am very weak, and have evident signs of an approaching dissolution. But I have lived long enough, since T live to see a mighty people animated with a spirit to be free, and governed by transcend- ent abilities and honour." He died without posterity, at his abode near New-York, on the 10th day of April, 1806, aged 78 years. Major-General in the American Army. General Greene, although descended from ancestors of elevated standing, was not indebted tK) the condition of his family, for any part of the real lustre and reputation he pos- sessed. He was literally the founder of his own fortune, and the author of his own fame. He was the second son of Nathaniel Greene, a member of the society of Friends, an anchor-smith. He was born in the year 1741, in the town of Warwick, and County of Kent, in the province of Rhode-Island. Be- ing intended by his father, for the business which he himself pursued, young Greene received, at school, nothing but the elem^ents of a common English education. But to him, an education so limited, was unsatisfactory. With such funds as he was able to raise, he purchased a small, but well select- ed library, and spent his evenings, and all the time he could redeem from his father's business, in regular study. At a period of life, unusually early, Greene was elevated, GREENE. l^ by a very flattering suffrage, to a seat in the legislature of his native colony. This was the commencement of a public career, w^hich, heightening as it advanced, and flourishing in the midst of difliculties, closed with a lustre that was pecu- liarly dazzling. Thus introduced into the councils of his country, at a time, when the rights of the subject, and the powers of the ruler, were beginmng to be topics of liberal discussion, he felt it his duty to avow his sentiments on the momentous question. Nor did he pause or waver, as to the principles he should adopt, and the decision he should form. He was inflexibly opposed to tyranny and oppression in every shape, and manfully avowed it. But his character, although form- ing, was not completely developed until the commencement of the troubles which terminated in our independence. It was then that he aspired to a lead in the public councils ; and, throwing from him, as unsuitable to the times, the peaceful habits in which he had been educated, sternly de- clared for a redress of grievances, or open resistance. This open departure from the sectarian principles in which he had been educated, was followed, of course, by his imme- diate dismission from the society of Friends. The sword was earliest unsheathed in the colony of Mas- sachusetts ; and on the plains of Lexington and Concord, the blood of British soldiers, and American subjects, min- gled first in hostile strife. Nor was Rhode-Island, after that sanguinary aflfair, behind her sister colonies, in gallant- ry of spirit, and promptitude of preparation. Greene commenced his military pupilage in the capacity of di private soldier, in October, 1774, in a military associa- tion, commanded by James M. Varnum, afterwards briga- dier general. But Rhode-Island having in the month of May, 1775, raised three regiments of militia, she placed them under the command of Greene, who, without loss of time, conducted them to head-quarters, in the village of Cambridge. On the 2d of July, 1775, General Washington, invested by congress with the command in chief of the armies of his country, arrived at Boston. Greene availed himself of an early opportunity amid the public demonstration of joy, to welcome the commander in chief, in a personal address, in which, with much warmth of feeling, and kindness of ex- pression, he avowed his attachment to his person, and the high gratification he derived from the prospect of being as- i6Q GREENE. sociated with him in arms, and serving under him, in de- fence of the violated rights of his country. This was a happy prelude to a frieiKlship between these two great and illustrious officers, which death, alone, had the power to dissolve. It is a fact of notoriety, that when time and acquaintance had made him thoroughly acquaint- ed with the character of General Greene, Washington en- tertained, and frequently expressed an anxious wish, that. in case of his death, he might be appointed his successor to the supreme command. During the investment of Boston, by the American forces, a state of things, which lasted for months, no opportunity presented itself to Greene, to acquire distinction, by per- sonal exploit. But his love of action, and spirit of adven- ture, were strongly manifested ; for he was one of the few officers of rank, who concurred with General Washington, in the propriety of attempting to carry the town by assault. On the evacuation of Boston by the British, the Ameri- can troops were permitted to repose from their toils, and to exchange, for a time, the hardships and privations of a field encampment, for the enjoyment of plenty, in comfortable barracks. During this period of relaxation, Greene con- tinued, with unabating industry, his military studies, and as far as opportunity served, his attention to the practical du- ties of the field. This course, steadily pursued, under the immediate supervision of Washington, could scarcely fail to procure rank, and lead to eminence. Accordingly, on the 26th of August, 1776, he was promoted, by congress, to the rank of major-general in the regular army. A crisis, most glowing and portentous to the cause of freedom, had now arrived. In the retreat which now com- menced, through New-Jersey, General Washington was ac- companied by General Greene, and received from him all the aid, that, under circumstances so dark and unpromising, talents, devotion, and firmness could affi^rd. Possessed alike of an ardent temperament, hearts that neither danger nor misfortune could appal, and an inspiring trust in the right- eousness of their cause, it belonged to the character of these two great and illustrious commanders, never for a moment to despair of their country. Hope and confidence, even now, beamed from their countenances, and they encouraged their followers, and supported them under the pressure of defeat and misfortune. GREENE. r€C Greene was one of the council of Washington, who resol- ved on the enterprise of the 26th of December, 1776, against the post of the enemy at Trenton. The issue is known, and is glorious in our history. About one thousand Hessians, in killed, wounded, and prisoners, with their arms, field equi- page and artillery, were the trophies of that glorious morn- ing, which opened on the friends of American freedom, with the day-star of hope. He was again of the council of the commander in chief, in planning the daring attack of the 2d of January, 1777, on the British garrison at Princeton, as well as his associate in achieving its execution. In both these brilliant actions, his gallantry, prudence, and skill be- ing alike conspicuous, he received the applauses of his com- mander. He continued the associate and most confidential counsellor of Washington, through the gloomy and omin- ous period that followed. In the obstinate and bloody battle of Brandy wine, Gen- eral Greene, by his distinguished conduct added greatly to his former renown. In the course of it, a detachment of American troops, commanded by General Sullivan, being unexpectedly attacked by the enemy, retreated in disorder. General Greene, at the head of Weedon's Virginia brigade, flew to their support. On approaching, he found the de- feat of General Sullivan a perfect rout. Not a moment was to be lost. Throwing himself into the rear of his fly- ing countrymen, and retreating slowly, he kept up, especial- ly from his cannon, so destructive a fire, as greatly to retard the advance of the enemy. Aiming at length at a narrow defile, secured on the right and left by thick woods, he halt- ed, sent forward his cannon, that they might be out of dan- ger, in case of his being compelled to a hasty retreat, and formed his troops, determined to dispute the pass with his small arms. Tliis he effected with complete success, not- withstanding the vast superiority of the assailants ; until after a conflict of more than an hour and a half, night came on, and brought it to a close. But for this quick-sighted interposition, Sullivan's detachment m^ust have been nearly annihilated. On this occasion, only, did the slightest misunderstand- ing, ever occur, between General Greene and the command- er in chief In his general orders after the battle, the latter neglected to bestow any special applause on Weeden's brig- ade. Against this, General Greene remonstrated in person* General Washington replied^ " You, Sir, are coasidexedi *i4 !62 GREENE. my favorite officer. Weedon's brigade, like myself, «re Virginians. Should I applaud them for tjieir achievment imder your command, I shall be charged with partiahty ; jeal- ousy will be excited, and the service injured." " Sir," exclaimed Greene, with considerable emotion. ' I trust your Excellency will do me the justice to believe that I am not selfish. In my own behalf, I have nothing to ask. Act towards we as you please ; I shall not complain. However richly I prize your Excellency's good opinion and applause, a consciousness that 1 have endeavored to do my duty, constitutes at present, my richest reward. But do not. Sir, let me entreat you, on account of the jealousy that may arise in little minds, withhold justice, from the brave fellows I had the honor to command." Convinced that prudence forbade the special notice re- quested, the commander in chief persisted in his silence. Greene, on cool reflection, appreciated the motives of his general, and lost no time in apologizing for his intemperate manner, if not for his expressions. — Delighted with his frankness and magnaninity, Washington replied, with a smile, — " An officer, tried as you have been, who errs but once in two years, deserves to be forgiven." — With that, he offered him his hand, and the matter terminated. Following General Greene in his military career, he next presents himself on the plains of Germantown. In this daring assault, he commanded the left wing of the Amer- ican army, and his utmost endeavors were used to retrieve the fortune of the day, in which his conduct met the appro- bation of the commander in chief Lord Cornwallis, to whom he was often opposed, had the magnanimity to bestow upon him a lofty encomium. " Greene," said he, " is as dangerous as Washington. He is vigilant, enterprising, and full of resources. With but little hope of gaining any ad- vantage over him, I never feel secure when encamped in his neighbourhood." At this period, the quarter-master department, in the American army, was in a very defective and alarming con- dition, and required a speedy and radical reform ; and Gen- eral Washington declared, that such reform could be ef- fected only by the appointment of a quarter-master-general, of great resources, well versed in business, and possessing practical talents of the first order. When requested by Congress to look out for such an officer, he, at once, fixeti his eye on General Greene, GREENE. 16S Washington well knew that the soul of Greene was indis-. solubly wedded to the duties of the line. Notwithstanding this he expressed, in conversation with a member of Con- gress, his entire persuasion, that if General Greene could be convinced of his ability to render his country greater services in the quarter-master department, than in the field, he would at once accept the appointment. " There is not," said he, "an officer of the army, nor a man in America more sincerely attached to the interests of his country. Could he best promote their interests, in the character of a corporal, he would exchange, as I firmly believe, without a murmur, the epaulet for the knot. For, although he is not without ambition, that ambition has not for its object, the highest rank so much as i\\e greatest good.'' When the appointment was first offered General Greene, he declined it, but after a conference with the commander in chief, he consented to an acceptance, on condition, that he should forfeit nothing of his right to command, in time of action. On these terms he received the appointment, on the 22dof March, 1778, and entered immediately on the duties of the office. In this station he fully answered the expectations formed of his abilities ; and enabled the American army to move with additional celerity and vigor. During his administration of the quarter-master depart- ment, he took, on two occasions, a high and distinguished part in the field ; the first in the battle of Monmouth ; the second, in a very brilliant expedition against the enemy in Rhode-Island, under the command of General Sullivan. At the battle of Monmouth, the commander in chief, disorusted with the behaviour of General Lee, deposed him on the field of battle, and appointed General Greene to command the right wing, where he greatly contributed to retrieve the er- rors of his predecessor, and to the subsequent events of the day. His return to his native state was hailed by the inhabit- \ints, with general and lively demonstrations of joy. Even the leading members of the Society of Friends, who had re- luctantly excluded him from their communion, often visited him at his quarters, and expressed their sincere satisfaction at the elevation he had attained in the confidence of his country. One of these plain gentlemen being asked, in jest, by a young officer, how he, as an advocate of peace, could reconcile it to his conscience, to keep so much comipany 164 GREENE. with General Greene, whose profession was war ? — prompt- ly replied, " Friend, it is not a suit of uniform that can either make or spoil a man. True, I do not approve of this many^ coloured apparel, (the officers' dress,) but whatever may be the form or colour of his coat, Nathaniel Greene still re- tains the same sound head and virtuous heart that gained him the love and esteem of our Society." During the year 1779, General Greene was occupied ex- clusively in the extensive concerns of the quarter-master department. About this time Gen. Greene was called to the perform- ance of a duty, the most trying and painful he had ever en- countered. We allude to the melancholy affair of Major Andre, adjutant general to the British army, who was cap- tured in disguise within the American lines. Washington detailed a court for his trial, composed of fourteen general officers, La Fayette, and Steuben being two of the number, and appointed General Greene to preside. When summoned to his trial, Andre frankly disclosed without interrogatory, what bore heaviest on his own life, but inviolably concealed whatever might endanger the safety of others. His confessions were conclusive, and no witness was examined against him. The court were unanimous, that he had been taken as a spy, and must suft'er death. Of this sen- tence he did not complain, but wished that he might be per- mitted to close a life of honor by a professional death, and not be compelled like a common felon, to expire on a gibbet. To effect this, he made, in a letter to General Washington, one of the most i30werful and pathetic appeals, that ever fell from the pen of a mortal. Staggered in his resolution, the commander in chief re- ferred the subject, accompanied by the letter, to his gener- al officers, who, with one exception, became unanimous in their desire that Andre should be shot. That exception was found in General Greene, the presi- dent of the court. " Andre," said he, " is either a spy or an innocent man. If the latteV, to execute him, in any way, will be murder ; if the former, the mode of his death is pre- scribed by law, and you have no right to alter it. Nor is this all. At the present alarming crisis of our affairs, the public safety calls for a solemn and impressive example. Nothing can satisfy it, short of the execution of the prisoner, as a common spy ; a character of which his own confession kas clearly convicled him. Beware how you suff&r your GREENE. mo feelings to triumph over your judgment. Indulgence to one may be death to thousands. Besides, if you shoot the prisoner, instead of hanging him, you will excite suspicion, which you will be unable to allay. Notwithstanding all your efforts to the contrary, you will awaken public compassion, and the belief will become oeneral, that, in the case of Ma- jor Andre, there were exculpatory circumstances, entitling him to lenity, beyond what he received — perhaps, entitling him to pardon. Hang him, therefore, or set him free." This reasoning being considered conclusive, the prisoner suffered as a common spy. We have now advanced to that period of the revolutiona- ry war, in which the situation of Greene is about to experi- ence an entire change. No longer acting in the vicinity, or subject to the immediate orders of a superior, we are to be- hold him, in future, removed to a distance, and virtually in- vested with the supreme command of a large section of the United States. Congress, dissatisfied with the loss of the southern army, resolved that the conduct of Gen. Gates be submitted to the examination of a court of inquiry, and the commander in chief directed to appoint an officer to succeed him. In compliance with the latter part of the resolution, General Washington, without hesitation, ofiered the appointment to Gen. Greene. In a letter to Congress, recommending the general to the support of that body, he' made the most hon- orable mention of him, as " an officer in whose abilities, for- titude and integrity, from a long and intimate experience of them, he had the most entire confidence." Writing to Mr. Mathews, a member from Charleston, he says, " You have your wish, in the officer appointed to the southern com- mand. I think I am giving you a general ; but what can a general do without arms, without clothing, without stores, without provisions V General Greene arrived at Charlotte, the head-quarters of General Gates, Dec. 2d, 1780, and in entering on the duties of his command, he found himself in a situation that was fearfully embarrassing. His army, consisting mostly of mir litia, amounted to less than two thousand men, and he found on hand but three days' provision, and a very defective sup- ply of ammunition. In front was an enemy, proud in vic- tory, and too strong to be encountered. With such means, and under such circumstances, to recover two states, alrea- IQ6 GREENE. dy conquered, and protect a third, constituted a task that was almost hopeless. It was not merely to meet an enemy in the field, to com- mand skilfully, and fight bravely, either in proffered or ac- cepted battle. These operations depend on mere profes- sional qualifications, that can be readily acquired by mode- rate capacities. But to raise and provide for an army in a dispirited and devastated country, creating resources where they do not exist, to operate with an incompetent force on an extended and broken line of frontier ; to hold in check, in many points, and to avoid coming into contact in any, with an enemy superior in numbers and discipline ; — to conduct a scheme of warfare like this, and such, precisely, was that which tested the abilities of General Greene, requires a genius of the highest order, combined with indefatigable in- dustry and skill. Preparatory to the commencement of the campaign, Greene's first care was to prepare for his troops' subsist- ence and ammunition ; and in effecting this, he derived great aid from his personal experience in the business of the commissary and quarter-master's departments. This quali- fication for such a diversity of duties, presented him to his troops in the two-fold relation of their supporter and com- mander. Much of the moral strength of an army consists in a confidence in its leader, an attachment to his person, and a spirit of subordination, founded on principle. To such an extent was this true, that even the common sol- diery, sensible of the superintendence of a superior intel- lect, predicted confidently a change of fortune. Their de- feat at Camden was soon forgotten by them, in their antici- pations of future victory. They fancied themselves ready once more to take the field, and felt a solicitude to regain their lost reputation, and signalize their prowess in presence of their new and beloved commander. But, notwithstanding the spirit and confidence of his troops, Greene found himself unable to meet the enemy in the field. With Washington in his eye, and his own genius to devise his measures, he resolved on cautious movements and protracted war. .Yet, to sustain the spirit of the coun- try, it was necessary that he should not altogether shun his enemy; but watching and confronting his scouts and forag- ing parties, fight, cripple, and beat him in detail; and in all his movements, it was necessary for him to maintain a com- GREENE. 167 munication with Virginia, from which he was to receive sup- plies of provisions, munitions and men. General Greene's first movement, from the village of Charlotte, was productive of the happiest effect. In the month of December he marched, with his main army, to the Cheraw Hills, about seventy miles to the right of Lord Corn- wallis, despatching, at the same time, General Morgan, with four hundred continentals under Colonel Howard, Colonel Washington's corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amount- ing in all to six hundred, to take a position on the British left, distant from them about fifty miles. This judicious disposition, which formed a rallying point for the friends of independence, both in the east and west, and facilitated the procurement of provisions for the troops, excited his Lordship's apprehensions for the safety of Nine- ty-Six and Augusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced by the movements of Morgan, and gave rise to a train of movements which terminated in the celebrated bat- tle of the Cowpens. Cornwallis, immediately on learning the movements of Greene, despatched Col. Tarlton with a strong detachment, amounting, in horse and foot, to near a thousand, for the pro- tection of Ninety-Six, with orders to bring General Mor- gan, if possible, to battle. Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a menacing aspect, and compel- led him, at first, to fall back rapidly. But this was not long continued. Glorying in action, and relying with great con- dence in the spirit and firmness of his regular troops, Mor- gan halted at the Cowpens, and prepared to give his adver- sary battle. The opportunity was eagerly seized by Tarl- ton. An engagement was the immediate consequence, and a complete victory was obtained by the Americans * Up- wards of five hundred of the British laid down their arms, and were made prisoners, and a very considerable number were killed. Eight hundred stand of arms, two field pieces, and thirty-five baggage waggons fell to the victors, who had only twelve killed and sixty wounded. The victory of the Cowpens, although achieved under the immediate command of Morgan, was the first stroke of Gen. Greene's policy, in the south, and augured favourably of his future career. It led to one of the most arduous, ably- * Vide Biog. of Gen. Morgan. 16S GREENE. conducted, and memorable operations, that occurred in the course of the revolutionary war — the retreat of Greene, and the pursuit of Cornwallis, during the inclemencies of winter, a distance of 230 miles. Galled in his pride, and crippled in his schemes, by the overthrow of Tarlton, Lord Cornwallis resolved, by a series of prompt and vigorous measures, to avenge the injury and retrieve the loss which the royal arms had sustained at the Cowpens. Ilis meditated operations, for this purpose, were, to advance rapidly on Morgan, retake his prisoners, and de~ stroy his force ; to maintain an intermediate position, and prevent his union with General Greene ; or, in case of the junction of the two armies, to cut off their retreat towards Virginia, and force them to action. But General Greene, no less vii^ilant and provident than himself, informed, by express, of the defeat of Tarlton, in- stantly perceived the object of his Lordship, and ordering his troops to proceed, under Gen. Huger, to Salisbury, where he meditated a junction with Morgan's detachment, he himself, escorted by a few dragoons, set out for the head- quarters of that officer, and joined him shortly after. Cornwallis, having committed to the flames his heavy bag- gage, and reduced his army to the condition of light troops, dashed towards Morgan. And here commenced the retreat of Gen. Greene, in the course of which he displayed such resources, and gained, in the end, such lasting renown. Sen- sible of the immense prize for which he was contending, he tasked his genius to the uttermost. On the issue of the struggle was staked, not merely the lives of a few brave men ; not alone the existence of the whole army, but the fate of the south and the integrity of the Union. But his genius was equal to the crisis. By the most masterly move- ments, Greene effected a junction of the two divisions of his httle army. To his great mortification, Lord CornAvallis now perceiv- ed, that in two of his objects, the destruction of Morgan's detachment, and the prevention of its union with the main division, he was completely frustrated by tlie activity of Greene. But to cut off the retreat of the Americans into Virginia, after their union, and to compel them to action, was still, perhaps, practicable, and to the achievement of this, he now directed his undivided energies. The genius of Greene, however, did not desert him on this trying occasion. Self-collected, and adapting his con- GREENE. 169 Uuct to the nature of the crisis, his firmness grew with the increase of danger; and the measure of his greatness was the extent of the difficulties he was called to encounter. Notwithstanding the vigilance and activity of his enemy, he brought his men in safety into Virginia ; and to crown the whole, no loss was sustained by him, either in men, muni- tions, artillery, or any thing that enters into the equipment of an army. Frustrated thus, in all his purposes. Lord Cornwallis, al- though the pursuing party, must be acknowledged to have been fairly vanquished. Victory is the successful issue of a Struggle for superiority. Mihtary leaders contend for dif- ferent objects ; to vanquish their enemies, in open conflict ; to attack and overthrow them, by stratagem and surprise ; to exhaust their resources, by delay of action ; or to elude them in retreat, until strengthened by reinforcements, they may be able to turn and meet them in the field. Of this last description, was the victory of Greene, in his memora- ble retreat. " In Virginia, General Greene received some reinforce- ments, and had the promise of more ; on which he returned again into North Carolina, where, on their arrival, he hoped to be able to act on the offensive. He encamped in the vi- cinity of Lord Cornwallis' army. By a variety of the best concerted manceuvres, he so judiciously supported the ar- rangement of his troops, by the secresy and promptitude of bis motions, that, during three weeks, while the enemy re- mained near him, he prevented them from taking any advan- tage of their superiority ; and even cut off" all opportunity of their receiving succors from the royalists. About the beginning of March, he effected a junction with a continental regiment, and two considerable bodies of Virginia and Carolina militia. He then determined on at- fackjng the British commander, without loss of time, " be- ing persuaded," as he declared in his subsequent despatch- es, " that, if he was successful, it would prove ruinous to the enemy ; and, if otherwise, that it would be but a partial evil to him." On the 14th, he arrived at Guilford Court-House, ihe British then lying at twelve miles distance. His army consisted of about four thousand five hundred men, of whom near two-thirds were North Carolina and Virginia mihtia. The British were about two thousand four hundred ; all regular troops, and the greater part inured to toil and ^ervicie in their long expedition under Lord Cocn- 16 i70 GREENE. wallis, who, on the morning of the 15th, being apprised of General Greene's intentions, marched to meet him. The latter disposed his army in three lines : the militia of North Carolina were in front ; the second line was composed of those of Virginia ; and the third, which was the flower of the army, was formed of continental troops, near fifteen hun- dred in number. They were flanked on both sides by cav- alry and riflemen, and were posted on a rising ground, a mile and a half from Guilford Court-House. The engagement commenced at half an hour after one o'clock, by a brisk cannonade ; after which the British ad- vanced in three columns, and attacked the first line, compo- sed of North Carolina militia. These, who probably had never been in action before, were panic-struck at the ap- proach of the enemy ; and many of them ran away without firing a gun, or being fired upon, afld even before the Brit- ish had come nearer than one hundred and forty yards to them. Part of them, however, fired ; but they then follow- ed the example of their comrades. Their oflfiicers made ev- ery possible effort to rally them : but the advantages of their position, nor any other consideration, could induce them to maintain their ground. This shameful conduct had a great effect upon the issue of the battle. The next line, however, behaved much better. They fought with great bravery ; and were thrown into disorder ; rallied, returned to the charge, and kept up a heavy fire for a long time ; but were at length broken, and driven on the third line, when the engagement became general, very severe, and very bloody. At length, superiority of discipline carried the day from su- periority of numbers. The conflict endured an hour and a half; and was terminated by General Greene's ordering a retreat, when he perceived that the enemy were on the point of encircling his troops."* This was a hard-fought action, and the exertions of the two rival generals, both in preparing for this action, and du- ring the course of it, were never surpassed. Forgetful of every thing, but the fortune of the day, they, on several oc- casions, mingled in the danger, like common soldiers. The loss sustained by the Americans, in this battle, arfiounted, in killed and wounded, to only about 400 ; while in its effect on the enemy it was murderous; nearly one ^^m. Biographical Dictionary. GREENE. 171 third of them, including many officers of distinction, were killed and wounded. The result of this conflict, although technically a defeat, was virtually a victory on the part of General Greene. In its relation to his adversary, it placed him on higher ground than he had previously occupied ; enabling him, immediate- ly afterwards, instead of retreating, to become the pursuing party. This is evidenced by his conduct soon after the action. Not doubting tliat Lord Cornwallis would follow him, he retreated slowly, and in good order, from the field of battle, until attaining, at the distance of a few miles an advantage- ous position, he again drew up his forces, determined to re- new the contest, on the arrival of his enemy. But his Lordship was in no condition to pursue. Having, by past experience, not to be forgotten, learnt that his adversary was an Ulyses in wisdom, he now perceived that he was an Ajax in strength. Alike expert in every mode of war- fare, and not to be vanquished, either by stratagem or force, he found him too formidable to be again approached. Influenced by these sentiments. Lord Cornwallis, instead of pursuing his foe, or even maintaining his ground, com- menced his retreat, leaving behind him about seventy of his wounded, whom he recommended, in a letter written by himself, to the humanity and attention of the American chief Had General Greene been in a situation to pursue his Lordship, as soon as he commenced his retreat, the de- struction of that officer and his army would have been in- evitable. Some spot on the plains of Carolina would have witnessed the surrender that was reserved for Virginia ; and the hero of the south would have won the laurels which, shortly afterwards, decorated the brow of the hero of the nation. Put Greene's military stores were so far expended that he could not pursue, until he received a supply ; and the delay, thus occasioned, gave time to the British com- mander to eflect his escape. Having received his supplies, Greene immediately pur- sued the eiiemy ; but the advanced position of Lord Corn- waUis, and the impracticable condition of the roads, frus- trated every exertion that General Greene could make to compel tht enemy to a second engagement. — Convinced of this, he hal ed to indulge his troops in that refreshment and repose whi ^h they so much needed. Were we to indicate the period in the life of General 172 GREENE. Greene most strongly marked by the operations, and irra- diated by the genius of a great commander, we would with- out hesitation, select that which extends from the com- mencement of his retreat before Cornwallis, to the termin- ation of his pursuit of him at this time. Perhaps a bright- er era does not adorn the military career of any leader. It was in the course of it that he turned the current of adverse fortune consequent on the defeat of Gates, which he after- wards directed with such certain aim and irresistible force, as to keep the enemy from his numerous strong holds in the sourthern department, and contributed so pre-eminentl) to the speedy and felicitous issue of the war. Having abandoned the pursuit of the British army, the general again found himself encircled with difficulties. Of the sourthern department of the union, over whicli Greene's command extended", the enemy was m force in three large and important sections. Georgia and South Carolina were entirely in their possession ; Lord Cornwalhs had taken post in the maritime district of North Carolina, and part of Virginia was occupied by a powerful detach* ment of British troops, under the command of Gen. Philips. At a loss to determine in which of these points he should act in person, he consulted liis officers, and found them greatly divided in opinion. He, however, resolved, in ac~ cordance to the views of Col. Lee, that, leaving his lord- ship, whose object evidently was the invasion of Virginia, to be met by the energies of that state, with such assist- ance as might arrive from the north, he should penetrate South Carolina, his army divided into two columns, attack and beat the enemy at their different posts, without permit- ting them to concentrate their forces, and thus recover that rich and important member of the union. An officer who had distinguished himself in the late ac- tion, not satisfied with the proposed plan of operations, asked Gen. Greene by way of remonstrance, — " What will you do. Sir, in case Lord Cornwallis throws himself in your rear, and cuts off your communication with Virginia V — '' I will punish his temerity," replied the general, with great pleasantness, " by ordering you to charge him as you did at the battle of Guilford. But never fear. Sir ; his lord- ship has too much good sense ever again to risque his safer ty so far from the sea board. He has just escaped ruin, and he knows it, and I am greatly mistaken in his character GREENE. 173 as an officer, if he has not the capacity to pront by expe- rience." On the seventh of April, Gen. Greene broke up his en- campment, and with the main column of his army, moving to the south, took position on Hobkirk's Hill, in front of Camden, the head-quarters of Lord Rawdon, now the commander in chief of the British forces in the south. " The strength of the British position, which was cover- ed on the south and east side by a river and creek ; and to the westward and northward, by six redoubts ; rendered it impracticable to carry it by storm, with the small army Greene had, consisting of about seven hundred continentals, the militia having gone home. He, therefore, encamped at about a mile from the town, in order to prevent supplies from being brought in, and to take advantages of such fa- vorable circumstances as might occur. Lord Rawdon's situation was extremely delicate. Col. Watson, whom he had some time before detached, for the protection of the eastern frontiers, and to whom he had, on intelligence of General Greene's intentions, sent orders to return to Camden, was so effectually watched by General Marion, that it was impossible for him to obey. His lord- ship's supplies were, moreover, very precarious ; and should General Greene's reinforcements arrive, he might be so closely invested, as to be at length obliged to surrender. In this dilemma, the best expedient that suggested itself, was a bold attack ; for which purpose, he armed every per- son with him capable of carrying a musket, not excepting his musicians and drummers. He sallied out on the 25th of April, and attacked General Greene in his camp. The defence was obstinate ; and for some part of the engagement the advantage appeared to be in favor of America. Lieu- tenant Colonel Washington, who commanded the cavalry, had at one time not less than two hundred British prisoners. However, by the miscondu ms was most vigorous in those extremities, when feeble minds abandon themselves to despair, adopted the only re- sources now left him, of avoiding an engagement, until the British force should be divided."* Greene, having, without loss, made good his passage over the rivers in front, Lord Rawdon, perceiving the futihty of any further attempt to overtake him, abandoned the pursuit., and retreating to Ninety-Six, prepared for its evacuation. Thus did the policy of Greene, which is moral strength, compel the surrender of that fortress, although from a waut of physical strength, he failed to carry it by the sword. No sooner had Lord Rawdon commenced his retrograde movement towards Ninety-Six than General Greene changed his front, and moved in the same direction. On the break- ing up of the garrison of Ninety-Six, and the return of Lord Rawdon towards Charleston, which immediately ensued, the British army moved in two columns, at a considerable distance from each other. It was then that General Greene became, in reality, the pursuing party, exceedingly anxious to bring the enemy to battle. But this he was unable to accomplish until September. " September the 9th, General Greene having assembled about two thousand men, proceeded to attack the British^ who, under the command of Col. Stewart, were posted at Eutaw Springs. The American force was drawn up in two lines : the first, composed of Carolina militia, was com- manded by Generals Marion and Pickens, and Colonel- de Malmedy. The second, which consisted of continental troops, from North-Carolina, A'irginia, and Maryland, was commanded by General Sumpter, Lieutenant-Col. Camp- bell, and Colonel Williams ; Lieutenant-Colonel Lee, with his legion, covered the right flank ; and Lieutenant-Colonel Henderson, with the state troops, covered the left. A corps de reserve was formed of the cavalry, under Lieutenant- Colonel Washington, and the Delaware troops under Capt. Kirkwood. As the Americans came forward to the attack,, they fell in with some advanced parties of the enemy, at about two or three miles a-head of the main body. These being closely pursued, were driven back, and the action soon became general. The militia were at length forced to give way, but were bravely supported by the second line. In Am. Biog. Dictioirary. lit GREENE. the hottest part of the engagement, General Greene order- ed the Maryland and Virginia continentals to charge with trailed arms. This decided the fate of the day. " Nothing," says Dr. Ramsay, " could surpass the intrepidity of both officers and men on this occasion. They rushed on in good order through a heavy cannonade, and a shower of musquet- ry, with such unshaken resolution, that they bore down all before them." The British were broken, closely pursued, and upwards of five hundred of them taken prisoners. — They, however, made a fresh stand in a favorable position, in impenetrable shrubs and a picquetted garden. Lieute- nant-Colonel Washington, after having made every etfort to dislodge them, was wounded and taken prisoner. Four six pounders were brought forward to play upon them, but they fell into their hands ; and the endeavors to bring them from their station, being found impracticable, the Americans re- tired, leaving a very strong picquet on the field of battle. Their loss was about five hundred ; that of the British up- wards of eleven hundred. General Greene was honoured by congress with a British standard, and a gold medal, emblematical of the engage- ment, " for his wise, decisive, and magnanimous conduct, in the action at Eutaw Springs, in which, with a force infe- rior in immber to that of the enemy, he obtained a most signal victory." In the evening of the succeeding day, Colonel Stewart fibandoned his post, and retreated towards Charleston, leav- ing behind upwards of seventy of his wounded and a thou- sand stand of arms. He was pursued a considerable dis- tance, but in vain. In Dr. Caldwell's memoirs of the life of General Greene, we have the following interesting story as connected with the severe conflict at Eutaw Springs : " Two young officers, bearing the same rank, met in per- sonal combat. The American, perceiving that the Briton liad a decided superiority, in the use of the sabre, and being himself of great activity and personal strength, almost gi- gantic, closed with his adverssry and made him his prisoner. " Gentlemanly, generous and high minded, this event, added to a personal resemblance which they were observed to bear to each other, produced between these two youthful warriors, an intimacy, which increased in a short time to a mutual attachraeat GREENE. 177 •' Not long after the action, the American officer return- ing home, on furlough, to settle some private business, ob- tained permission for his friend to accompany him. " Travelling without attendants or guard, they were both armed and well mounted. Part of their route lay through a settlement highly disaffected to the American cause. " When in the midst of this, having, h; consequence of a shower of rain, thrown around them their cloaks, which concealed their uniforms, they were suddenly encountered by a detachment of tories. " The young American, determined to die rather than become a prisoner, especially to men whom he held in ab- horrence for disloyalty to their country, and the generous Briton resolved not to survive one by whom he had been distinguished and treated so kindly, they both together, with great spirit and self possession, charg d the royaUsts, having first made signals in their rear, as if directing others to, fol- low them ; and thus, without injury on either side, had the address and good fortune to put the arty to flight. " Arriving in safety at their pla« ~i of destination, what was their surprise and augmented satisfaction, on finding, from some questions proposed by the American officer's father, that they were first cousins! " With increasing delight, the young Briton passed sev- eral weeks in the family of his kii sman, where the writer of this narrative saw him daily, and often listened, with the rapture of a child, to the checkered story of his military ad- ventures. " To heighten the occurrence, and render it more roman- tic, the American officer had a sister, beautiful and accom- plished, whose heart soon felt for the gallant stranger, more than the affection due to a cousin. The attachment was mutual. *' But here the adventure assumes a tragical cast. The youthful foreigner, being exchanged, was summoned to re^ turn to his regiment. The message was fatal to his peace. But mihtary lienor demanded the sacrifice ; and the lady. generous and high-minded as himself, would not be instru- mental in dimming his laurels. The parting scene was a high-wrought picture of tenderness and sorrow. On taking leave, the parties mutually bound themselves, by a solemn promise, to remain single a certain number of years, in the hope that an arrangement contemplated might again bring them together. A few weeks afterwards, the lady expired 178 GREENE. under an attack of small pox. The fate of the officer we never learnt."* Judge Johnson in his life of General Greene, says — " At the battle of the Eutaw Springs, Greene says ' that hundreds of my men, were naked as they were born.' Posterity will scarcely beheve that the bare loins of many brave men who carried death into the enemy's ranks, at the Eutaw, were galled by their cartouch boxes, while a folded rag or a tuft of moss protected the shoulders from sustaining the same injury from the musket. Men of other times will enquire, by what magic was the army kept together ] By what super- natural power was it made to fight f" General Greene in his letters to the secretary at war, says — " We have three hundred men without arms, and more than one thousand so naked that they can be put on duty only in cases of a desperate nature." Again he says — "Our difficulties are so numerous, and our wants so pres- sing, that I have not a moment's rehef from the most painful anxieties. I have more embarrassments than it is proper to disclose to the world. Let it suffice to say that this part of the United States has had a narrow escape. I have been seven months in the field without taking off my clothes.'' The battle of the Eutaw Springs being terminated, Gen- eral Greene ordered the light troops under Lee and Marion, to march circuitously, and gain a position in the British rear. But the i3ritish leader was so prompt in his meas- ures, and so precipitate in his movements, that leaving his sick and wounded behind him, he made good his retreat. TJie only injury he received in his ffight, was from Lee and Marion, who cut off part of his rear guard, galled liim in his flanks, killed several, and made a number of prisoners. Such was the issue of the battle of Eutaw. Like that of every other fought by General Greene, it manifested in him, judgment and sagacity of the highest order. Although he was repeatedly forced from the field, it may be truly said of that officer, that he never lost an action — the consequences, at least, being always in his favor. In no instance did he fail to reduce his enemy to a condition, relatively much worse than that in which he met him ; his own condition of course, being relatively improved. The battle of the Eutaw Springs, was the last essay ia Hvms, in which it was the fortune of General Greene to com- * American Biographical Dictionary. GREENE. 179 mand, and was succeeded by the abandonment of the whole of South Carohna by the enemy, except Charleston. Du- ring the relaxation that followed, a dangerous plot was for- med, by some mutinous persons of the army, to deliver up their brave General to the British. The plot was discover- ed and defeated ; the ring-leader apprehended, tried and shot, and twelve of the most guilty of his associates, desert- ed to the enemy. To the honor of the American character, no native of the country was known to be concerned in this conspiracy. Foreigners alone were its projectors and abet- tors. The surrender of Lerd Cornwallis, whose enterprising spirit had been by the British ministry, expected to repair the losses, and wipe away the disgrace which had been in- curred through the inactivity and indolence of other Gener- als, having convinced them of the impracticability of subju- gating America, they discontinued offensive operations in every quarter. The happy period at length arrived, when by the virtue and bravery of her sons, aided by the bounty of heaven, America compelled her invaders to acknowledge her independence. Then her armies quitted the tented field, and retired to cultivate the arts of peace and happi- ness. — General Greene, immediately withdrew from the south, and returned to the bosom of his native state. The reception he there experienced, was cordial and joy- ous. The authorities welcomed him home, with congratu- latory addresses, and the chief men of the place waited up- on him at his dwelhng, eager to testify their gratitude for his services, their admiration of his talents and virtues, and the pride with which they recognized him as a native of Rhode-Island. On the close of the war, the three southern states, that had been the most essentially benefitted by his wisdom and valor, manifested, at once, their sense of justice, and their gratitude to General Greene, by liberal donations. SoutK Carolina presented him with an estate, valued at ten thou- sand pounds sterling ; Georgia, with an estate, a few miles from the city of Savannah, worth five thousand pounds ; and North Carolina, with twenty five thousand acres of land in the State of Tennessee. Having spent about two years in his native state, in the adjustment of his private affairs, he sailed for Georgia, in October, 1785, and settled with his family, on his estate near SavannjA. Engaging here in agricultural pursuits, be 180 GREENE. employed himself closely in arrangements for planting, ex- hibiting the fairest promise to become as eminent in the practice of the peaceful virtues, as he had already shown himseli in the occupations of war. But it was the will of Heaven, that in this new sphere of action, his course should be limited. The short period of seven months, was destined to witness its commencement and its close. Walking over his grounds, as was his custom, without his hat, on the afternoon of the 15th of June, 1786, the day being intensely hot, he was suddenly attacked with such a vertigo and prostration of strength, as to be unable to return to his house without assistance. The affection was what is denominated a " stroke of the sun." It was succeeded by fe- ver, accompanied with stupor, delirium, and a disordered stomach. All efforts to subdue it proving fruitless, it ter- minated fatally on the 1 9th of the month. Intelligence of the event being conveyed to Savannah, but ©ne feeling pervaded the place. Sorrow was universal ; and the whole town instinctively assumed the aspect of mourning. All business was suspended, the dwelling hous- es, stores and shops were closed, and the shipping in the harbour half-masted their colours. On the following day the body of the deceased being conveyed to the town, at the request of the inhabitants, was interred in a private cemetery with military honors, the ma- gistrates of the place and other public officers, the society of the Cincinnati, and the citizens generally joining in the procession.* On the 1 2th of August, of the year in which the general v-Jersey, Delaware, and in part from Maryland ; also of some individuals from other repre- sentations." During the heat of party animosity, much was said and written of the monarchical views of Hamilton, and of his attempts, in the convention which formed our constitution, to carry those vievv's into effect. How far the sentiments imputed to him are correct, the following paper, read by him, as containing his ideas of a suitable plan of govern- ment for the United States, will show : — " 1. The supreme legislative power of the United States of America to be vested m two distinct bodies of men, the one to be called the assembly, the other the senate, who, to- ^[ether, shall form the legislature of the United States, with 18U HAMILTON. power to pass all laws whatsoever, subject to the negative hereafter mentioned. " 2. The assembly to consist of persons elected by the people, to serve for three years. " 3. The senate to consist of persons elected to serve during good behaviour ; their election to be made by elec- tors chosen for that purpose by the people. In order to this, the states to be divided into election districts. On the death, removal, or resignation of any senator, his place to be filled out of the district from which he came. " 4. The supreme executive authority of the United States to be vested in a governor, to be elected to serve du- ring good behaviour. His election to be made by electors, chosen by the people, in the election districts aforesaid. His authorities and functions to be as follows : " To liave a negative upon all laws about to be passed, and the execution of all laws passed : to have the entire di- rection of war, when authorised, or begun ; to have, with the advice and approbation of the senate, the power of ma- king all treaties ; to have the sole appointment of the heads or chief officers of the departments of finance, war, and for- eign afiairs ; to have the nomination of all other officers, (ambassadors to foreign nations included) subject to the ap- probation or rejection of the senate ; to have the power of pardoning all offences, except treason, which he shall not pardon, without the approbation of the senate. " 5. On the death, resignation, or removal of the govern- or, his authorities to be exercised by the president of the senate, until a successor be appointed. " 6. The senate to have the sole power of declaring war ; the power of advising and approving all treaties ; the power of approving or rejecting ail appointments of officers, ex- cept the heads or the chiefs of departments of finance, war, and foreign affairs. " 7. The supreme judicial authority of the United States to be vested in the judges, to hold their offices during good behaviour, with adequate and permanent salaries. This court to have, original jurisdiction in ail cases of capture ; and an appellative jurisdiction in all causes, in which the rev- enues of the general government, or the citizens of foreign nations, are concerned. " 8. The legislature of the United States to have power to institute courts in each state, for the determination of all matters of general concern. HAMILTON. 189 " 9. The governors, senators, and all officers of the Uni- ted States, to be liable to impeachment for mal and corrupt conduct ; and, upon conviction, to be removed from office, and disqualified for holding any place of trust, or profit. All impeachments to be tried by a court to consist of the chief, or senior judge of the superior court of law in each state; provided, that such judge hold his place during good behav- ior, and have a permanent salary. "10. All laws of the particular states, contrary to the constitution or laws of the United States, to be utterly void. And the better to prevent such laws being passed, the gov- ernor or president of each state shall be appointed by the general government, and shall have a negative upon the laws about to be passed in the state of which he is governor, or president. "11. No state to have any forces, land or naval ; and the militia of all the states to be under the sole and exclusive direction of the United States ; the officers of which to be appointed and commissioned by them." Such being the views of Hamilton, the constitution, framed by the convention, did not completely meet his wishes. He was afraid it did not contain sufficient means of strength for its own preservation, and that in consequence we should share the fate of many other republics, and pass through an- archy to despotism. He was in favor of a more permanent executive and senate. He wished for a strong government, which would not be shaken by the conflict of different inter- ests through an extensive territory, and which should be ad- equate to all the forms of national exigency. He was ap- prehensive, that the increased wealth and population of the states would lead to encroachments on the union. These were his views and feelings, and he freely and honestly ex- pressed them. A respectable member of the convention once remarked, that if the constitution did not succeed, on trial, Mr. Hamil- ton was less responsible for that result than any other mem- ber, for he fully and frankly pointed out to the convention what he apprehended were the infirmities to^which it was liable. And that if it answered the fond expectations of the public, the community would be more indebted io Mr. Ham- ilton than to any other member ; for after its essential out- lines were agreed to, he labored most indefatigably to heal those infirmities, and to guard against the evils to which they might expose it. ISO HAMILTON. The patriotism of Hamilton was not of that kind which yields every thing, because it cannot accomplish all that it desires. Believing the constitution incomparably superior to the old confederation, he exerted all his talents in its support. After the publication of the constitution, Hamilton, in concert with Mr. Jay and Mr. Madison, commenced the '* Federalist," a series of essays, addressed to the people ol" the state of New- York, in favor of the adoption of the con- stitution. These papers first made their appearance in the daily prints, early in November, 1787, and the work was not concluded until a short time previous to the meeting of the state convention, in June, 1788. It is well understood, thai Mr. Hamilton was the principal author, and wrote at least three-fourths of the numbers. This work is not to be class- ed among the ephemeral productions, which are calculated to produce a party purpose, and when that purpose is answer- ed, to expire forever. It is a profound and learned disqui- sition on the principles of a federal representative govern- ment, and combines an ardent attachment to public liberty. This work will no doubt endure as long as any of the repub- lican institutions of this country, on which it is so luminous 2.ivl slcgaiii a commentary. His voice co-operated with his pen. In the convention of the state, which met to deliberate on the federal constitu- tion, he was returned a member, and was always heard witli awe, perhaps with conviction ; though not always with suc- cess. But when the crisis arrived ; when a vote was to de- termine whether New-York should retain or relinquish her place in the union ; and preceding occurrences made it pro- bable that she would choose the worst part of the alterna- tive, Hamilton arose in redoubled strength. He argued, he remonstrated, he entreated, he warned, he painted, till apathy itself was moved, and the most relentless of human things, a preconcerted majority, was staggered and broken. Truth was again victorious, and New-York enrolled herself under the standard of the federal constitution. The constitution having gone into operation, and the exe- cutive departments being established, Mr. Hamilton was ap- pointed, in the summer of 1789, to the office of secretary of the treasury. The task of recruiting public credit, of drawing order and arrangement from the chaotic confusion in which the finances of America were involved, and of de- sing means which should render the revenue productive, HAMILTON. 191 and commensurate with the demand, in a manner least bur- thensome to the people, was justly classed among the most arduous of the duties which devolved on the new govern- ment. This office he held between five and six years ; and when we look back to the measures that within that period he ori- ginated, matured, and vindicated, we are astonished in the contemplation of the various powers of his ingenious and exalted mind. Mr. Hamilton is justly considered the Found- er of the Public Credit of this country. The manner in which the several states entered into and conducted the war of the revolution will be recollected. — Acting in some respects separately, and in others conjointly, for the attainment of a common object, their resources were exerted, sometimes under the authority of Congress, some- times under the authority of the local governments, to repel the enemy wherever he came. The debt incurred in sup- port of the war was, therefore, in the first instance, con- tracted partly by the continent, and partly by the states When the system of requisition was adopted, the transac- tions of the union were carried on, in a great degree, through the agency of the states, and when the measure of compen- sating the army, for the depreciation of their pay, became necessary, this burden, under the recommendation of Con- gress, was assumed by the respective states. In their ex- ertions to meet the calls of Congress, some degree of ine- quality had obtained, and they looked anxiously to a settle- ment of accounts between them. To assume these debts, and to fund them in common with that which continued to be the proper debt of the union, was proposed by Mr. Hamilton, in his first report to Con- gress, as secretary of the treasury. This celebrated report, whicii has been alike the fruitful theme of extravagant praise and bitter censure, was rigor- ously opposed in Congress. It was agreed by all, that the foreign debt should be provided for in the manner proposed by the Secretary, but with respect to the domestic debt, the same unanimity was far from prevailing. It was contended that the general government would acquire an undue influ- ence, and that the state governments would be annihilated by the measure. Not only would all the influence of the public creditors, be thrown into the scale of the former, but it would absorh all the powers of taxation, and leave the latter only the shadow of a government. This would proba- 192 HAMILTON. bly tennmate in rendering ihe state governments usieless, and would destroy the system so recently established. The constitutional authority of the federal government to assume these debts was questioned. On the ground of policy it was objected, that the assump- tion would impose on the United States a burden, the weight of which was unascertained, and which would require an extension of taxation beyond the Hmits which prudence would prescribe. That the debt, by being thus accumulated, would be perpetuated, and the Secretary was charged with the doctrine, " that a public debt was a public blessing." The measure was said to be unwise too, as it would aflfect the public credit. Such an augmentation of the debt, must inevitably depreciate its value ; since it was the character of paper, whatever denomination it might assume, to diminish in value in proportion to the quantity in circulation. In support of the assumption, the debts of the states were traced to their origin. America, it was said, had engaged in a, war, the object of which was equally interesting to every part of the union. It was not the war of a particular state, but of the United States, It was not the liberty and inde- pendence of a part, but of the whole, for which they had contended, and which they had acquired. The cause was a common cause. As brethren, the American people had con- sented to hazard property and life in its defence. All the smns expended in this great object, whatever might be the authority under which they were raised or appropriated, con- duced to the same end. Troops were raised and military stores were purchased, before Congress assumed the com- mand of the army, or control of the war. The ammunition which repulsed the enemy at Bunker's Hill, was purchased by Massachusetts, and formed a part of the debt of that state. The great moving principle which governed Hamilton in his department, was g^ooc^ /ai7A. "Public credit," said he, •' could only be maintained by good faith, by a punctual per- formance of contracts ;" and, good faith was recommended, not only by the strongest inducements of political expedien- cy, but was enforced by considerations of still higher authori- ty. There are arguments for it which rest on the immutable principles of moral obligation. And in proportion as the mind is disposed to contemplate in the order of Providence, an intimate connexion between public virtue and public hap- piness, will be its repugnancy to a violation ©f those prin- ciples. HAMILTON. 19^ " This reflection," he said, " derived additional strength from the nature of the debt of the United States. It was the price of liberty. The faith of America had been repeat- edly pledged for it, and with solemnities that gave peculiar force to the oWigation." His report, though strenuously opposed, was finally adopt- ed, and under his administration, the finances advanced to a state of prosperity beyond all expectation, and so as to en- gage the attention, and command the confidence of Europe. The eflfect was electrical. Commerce revived, the plough- share glittered ; property recovered its value ; credit wab established ; revenue created ; the treasury filled. The insinuation that has often been inculcated, that Ham- ilton patronized the doctrine, that a public debt was a pubhc blessing, is without the shadow of a foundation. He incul- cates with great solicitude in his reports, that " the progres- sive accumulation of debts was the natural disease of govern- ments ; that it ought to be guarded against with provident foresight and inflexible perseverance ; that it ought to be a fundamental maxim in the system of public credit, that the creation of public dtbt should ahvays be accompanied with the means of extinguishment y The beneficial effects of the measures recommended by Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury, and which arc known and felt constantly, have at last accompHshed what argument alone could not do — they forced an universal con- viction on the public mind ; and all the dread spectres which were conjured up at the time to terrify the imagination, and blind the judgment, have long since disappeared before the light of experience. He has left to his successor little more to do than to follow his precepts, and to shine by the lustre of his example. Mr. Hamilton, in his character of Secretary of the Trea- sury, was also one of the constitutional advisers of the Pre- sident, in relation generally to the duties of his office. In January, 1795, Hamilton resigned his oflSice of Secre- tary of the Treasury, and once more returned to private life. In the rage and rancor of party, at the time, no wonder that the tongue of slander followed him. So fair was the oppor- tunity of acquiring a princely fortune which was presented to him, and the disposition to profit by it so little at vari- ance with the common estimate of honorable gain, that few supposed it possible to resist the temptation. The fact be- ing presumed, every petty politician erected himself into a 17 194 HAMILTON, critic ; while the gazettes, the streets, tlie polls of election, resounded with the millions amassed by the Secretary. It is natural that the idolaters of gold should treat the con- tempt of it as a chimera. But gold was not the idol of Hamilton. Exquisitely delicate toward official character, he touched none of the advantages which he put within the reach of others ; he vested not a dollar in the public funds. He entered into the public service with property of his own, the well earned reward of professional talent ; he continued to it till his funds were gone ; and left it, to get bread for a suffering family. It was surely enough that he had impov- erished himself while he was enriching the commonwealth ; but it was beyond measure insulting to charge him, under such circumstances, with invading the public purse. The last great occasion which called Hamilton upon the theatre of public action, existed in the spring of the year, 1798. It will be recollected that France had been lone; making piratical depredations upon our commerce ; that our ministers had been treated with the grossest indignity, and money demanded of the United States on terms the most degrading. Open and determined war was the con- sequence. Washington was appointed Lieutenant-General and Com- mander in Chief The following letter from him to Pres- ident Adams, on the subject of appointing Hamilton to the second in command, shows his high standing in the opinion of the illustrious Washington. '' Mount-Vernon, Sept. 25, 1798. " It is an invidious task, at all times, to draw comparisons, and I shall avoid it as much as possible ; but I have no hes- itation in declaring, that if the public is to be deprived of the services of Col. Hamilton in the military line, the post he was destined to fill will not easily be supplied — and that this is the sentiment of the public, I think 1 may venture to pronounce. Although Colonel Hamilton has never acted in the character of a general officer, yet his opportunities, as the principal and most confidential aid of the Commander in Chief, affi^rded him the means of viewing every thing on a larger scale than those who had only divisions and bri- gades to attend to ; who knew nothing of the corresponden- ces of the Commander in Chief, or of the various orders ^ to, or transactions with, the general staff of the army, These HAMILTON. 196 advantacres, and his havin^y served with usefulness in the old Congress, in the general convention, and having filled one of the most important departments of Government with ac- knowledged abilities and integrity, have placed him on high ground ; and made him a conspicuous character in the Uni- ted States, and even in -Europe. To these, as a matter of no small consideration, may be added, that as a lucrative practice in the line of his profession is his most certain de- pendence, the inducement to relinquish it must in some de- gree be commensurate. By some he is considered as an ambitious man, and therefore a dangerous one. That he is ambitious i shall readily grant, but it is of that laudable kind, :x;hich prompts a man to excel in whatever he takes in hand. " He is enterprising — quick in his perceptions — and his judgment intuitively great : qualities essential to a great military character : and therefore I repeat, that his loss will be irreparable. " GEO. WASHINGTON." Hamilton was accordingly appointed Inspector General, agreeable to the wishes of Washington. On the death of that great man, he succeeded to the office of Commander in Chief, and continued in that character, until the army was disbanded in the summer of 1800, when he returned again to his profession in the city of New-York. In this place he passed the remainder of his days. In June, 1804, Colonel Burr, Vice-President of the Uni- ted States, addressed a letter to General Hamilton, requir- ing his acknowledgment or denial of the use of any expres- sion derogatory to the honor of the former. Perhaps the most satisfactory manner of introducing the reader to his subject, will be to begin with the correspondence which led to the fatal interview. It is as follows : Mw-York, June 18, 1804. Sir — I send for your perusal a letter signed Charles D. Cooper, which, though apparently some time ago, has but very recently come to my knowledge. Mr. Van Ness, who does me the favor to deliver this, will point out to you that clause of the letter to which I particularly request your at- tention. You must perceive, Sir, the necessity of a prompt and un- qualified acknowledgment or denial of the use of any ex- 1% HAMILTON. pression which would warrant the assertions of Dr. Cooper. I have the honor to be Your obedient serv't Gen. Hamilton. A. BURR. Xcw-York, June 20, 1804. Sir — I have maturely reflected on the subject of your let- ter of the 18th inst. and the more I have reflected the more 1 have become convinced, that I could not, without mani- fest impropriety, make the avowal or disavowal which you seem to think necessary. The clause pointed out by Mr. Van Ness is in these terms : " I could detail to you a still more despicable opinion which General Hamilton has expres- sed of Mr. Burr." To endeavor to discover the meaning of this declaration, I was obliged to seek, in the antecedent part of this letter, for the opinion to which it referred, as having been already disclosed. I fovmd it in these words : " General Hamilton and Judge Kent have declared, in sub- stance, that they looked upon Mr. Burr to be a dangerous man, Sind one who ought not to he trusted nnth the reins of gov- ernment. The language of Dr. Cooper plainly implies, that he con- sidered this opinion of you, which he attributes to me, as a despicable one ; but he afiirms that I have expressed some other, more despicable, without, however, mentioning to whom, when, or where. 'Tis evident that the phrase, " still more despicable," admits of infinite shades, from very light to very dark. How am I to judge of the degree intended ? or how shall I annex any precise idea to language so indefi- nite ? Between gentlemen, despicable and more despicable are not worth the pains of distinction ; when, therefore, you do not interrogate me, as to the opinion which is specifically ascribed to me, I must conclude, that you view it as within the limits to which the animadversions of political opponents upon each other may justifiably extend, and consequently as not warranting the idea of it which Dr. Cooper appears to entertain. If so, what precise inference could you draw, as a guide for your conduct, were I to acknowledge that I had expressed an opinion of you siill more despicable than the one which is particularized ? How could you be sure that even this opinion had exceeded the bounds which you would yourself deem admissible between political opponents ? But I forbear further comment on the embarrassment, to which the requisition you have m.ade naturally leads. The HAMILTON. J 97 occasion forbids a more ample illustration, though nothing could be more easy than to pursue it. Repeating that 1 cannot reconcile it with propriety to make the acknowledgment or denial you desire, I will add that I deem it inadmissible on principle, to consent to be in- terrogated as to the justness of the inferences which may be drawn by others from whatever I may have said of a politic- al opponent, in the course of fifteen years' competition. If there were no other objection to it, this is sufficient, that it would tend to expose my sincerity and delicacy to injurious imputations from every person who may at any time liave conceived the import of my expressions, differently from what I may then have intended or may afterwards recollect. I stand ready to avow or disavow promptly and explicitly any precise or definite opinion which I may be charged with hav- ing declared of any gentleman. — More than this cannot fit- ly be expected from me ; and especially it cannot be reason- ably expected that I shall enter into an explanation upon a basis so vague as that which you have adopted. I trust, on more reflection, you will see the matter in the same light with me. If not, I can only regret the circumstance, and must abide the consequences. The publication of Dr. Cooper was never seen by me till after the receipt of your letter. I have the honor to be, &c. A. HAMILTON. Col. Burr. Netic-York, 2lst June, 1804. Sir — Your letter of the 20th instant has been this day received. Having considered it attentively, I regret to find in it nothing of that sincerity and delicacy which you profess toTalue. Political opposition can never absolve gentlemen from tlie necessity of a rigid adherence to the laws of honor, and the rules of decorum. I neither claim such privilege nor in- dulge it in others. The common sense of mankind affixes to the epithet adopted by Dr. Cooper, the idea of dishonor. It has been publicly applied to me under the sanction of your name. The question is not, whether he has understood the mean- ing of the word, or has used it according to syntax, and with grammatical accuracy ; but, whether you have authorized this apphcation, either directly or by uttering expressioas or 17* J 98 HAMILTON. opinions derogatory to my honor. The time ■ when ' is iii your own knowledge, but no way material to me, as the ca- lumny has now first been disclosed, so as to become the subject of my notice, and as the effect is present and palpa- ble. Your letter has furnished me with new reasons for requi- ring a definite reply. I have the iionor to be, h^ir, vour obedient, A. BURR Gen. Hamilton. On Saturday, the 22d of June, General Hamilton, fox the first time, called on Mr. Pendleton and communicated to him the preceding correspondence. He informed him that in a conversation with Mr. Van Ness, at the time of re- ceiving the last letter, he told Mr. Van Ness that he consid- ered that letter as rude and oilensive, and that it was not possible for him to give it any other answer than that Mr. Burr must take such steps as he might think proper. He said further, that Mr. Van Ness requested him to take time to deliberate, and then return an answer, when he might possibly entertain a different opinion, and that he would call on him to receive it. That his reply to Mr. Van Ness was, that he did not perceive it possible for him to give any oth- er answer than that he had mentioned, unless Mr. Burr would take back his last letter and write one which would admit of a different reply. He then gave Mr. Pendleton the letter hereafter mentioned, of the 22d June, to be deliv- ered to Mr. Van Ness when he should call on Mr. Pendle- ton for an answer, and went to Itis country house. The next day General Hamilton received, wliile there, tlie following letter : — June 23d, 1804. Sir — In the afternoon of yesterday, I reported to Col, Burr the result of my last interview with you, and appointed the evening to receive his further instructions. Some pri~ vate engagements, however, prevented me from calling on him till this morning. On my return to the city, I found, upon inquiry, both at your office and house, that you had returned to your residence in the country. Lest an inter- view there might be less agreeable to you than elsewhere, i have taken the liberty of addressing you this note to in- HAMILTON. i99 quire when and where it will be most convenient to you to receive a communication. Your most obedient and very humble servant, W. P. VAN NESS, Gen. Hamilton. Mr. Pendleton understood from General Hamilton that he immediately answered, that if the communication was pressing he would receive it at his country house that day ; if not, he would be at his house in town the next morning at nine o'clock. But he did not give Mr. Pendleton any copy .">f his note. New-York, June 22, 1804. Sir — Your fir^t letter, in a style too peremptory, made c demand, in my opinion, unprecedented and unwarrantable. My answer, pointing out the embarrassment, gave you an opportunity to take a less exceptionable course. You have not chosen to do it ; but by your last letter, received this day, containing expressions indecorous and improper, you have increased the difficulties to explanation intrinsically incident to the nature of your application. If by a "definite reply," you mean the direct avowal or disavowal required in your first letter, I have no other an- swer to give, than that which has already been given. If you mean any thing different, admitting of greater latitude, it is requisite you should explain. I have the honor to be. Sir, your obedient serv't. ALEX. HAMILTON. Aaron Burr, Esq. This letter, although dated on the 22d June, remained in Mr. Pendleton's possession until the 26th, within which pe- riod he had several conversations with Mr. Van Ness. In these conversations Mr. Pendleton endeavored to illustrate and enforce the propriety of the ground General Hamilton had taken. Mr. Pendleton mentioned to Mr. Van Ness as the result, that if Col. Burr would write a letter, requesting to know in substance whether, in the conversation to which Dr. Cooper alluded, any particular instance of dishonorable conduct was imputed to Col. Burr, or whether there was any impeachment of his private character. General Hamilton would declare, to the best of liis recollection^ what petssed 200 HAMILTON. in that conversation : and Mr. Pendleton read to Mr. Van Ness a paper containing the substance of what General Hamilton would say on that subject, which is as follows : — '■ General Hamilton says he cannot imagine .to what Doc- tor Cooper may have alluded, unless it were to a conversa- tion at Mr. Taylor's in Albany, last winter, (at wliich lie and Gen. Hamilton were present.) Gen, Hamilton cannot recollect distinctly the particulars of that conversation so as to undertake to repeat them, without running the risk of varying, or omitting what might be deemed important cir- cumstances. The expressions are entirely forgotten, and the specific ideas imperfectly remembered ; but to the best of his recollection it consisted of comments on the political principles and views of Col. Burr, and the results that might be expected from them in the event of his election as gov- ernor, without reference to any particular instance of past conduct, or to private character." After the dehvery of the letter of the 22d, as above men- tioned ; in another interview with Mr. Van Ness, he desired Mr. Pendleton to give him inwi'it{?ig the substance of what he had proposed on the part of General Hamilton, which Mr. Pendleton did, in the words following : — " In answer to a letter properly adapted to obtain from General Hamilton a declaration whether he had charged Col. Burr with any particular instance of dishonorable con- duct, or had impeached his private character, either in the conversation alluded to by Dr. Cooper, or in any other par- ticular instance to be specified ; he would be able to an- swer consistently with his honor, and the truth, in substance, that the conversation to which Dr. Cooper alluded, turned wholly on political topics, and did not attribute tg Col. Burr any instance of dishonorable conduct, nor relate to his pri- vate character; and in relation to any other language or conversation of General Hamilton which Col. Burr will spe- cify, a prompt and frank avowal or denial will be given." On the 26th June, Mr. Pendleton received the following letter . — Sir — The letter which you yesterday delivered me, and your subsequent communication, in Col. Burr's opinion; HAMILTON. 201 evince no disposition, on the part of Gen. Hamilton to come to a satisfactory accommodation. — The injury complained of, and the reparation expected, are so definitely expressed in Colonel Burr's letter of the 21st instant, that there is not perceived a necessity for further explanation on his part. The difficulty that would result from confining the inquiry to any particular times and occasions, must be manifest. The denial of a specified conversation only, would leave strong implications that on other occasions improper lan- guage had been used. — When and where injurious opinions and expressions have been uttered by Gen. Hamilton, must be best known to him, and of him only will Col. Burr in- quire. JVo denial or declaration will be satisfactory, unless it be general, so as wholly to exclude the idea that rumors de- rogatory to Col. Burr's honor have originated with Gen. Hamil- ton, or have been fairly inferred from any thing he has said. A definite replv to a question of this nature v;as deuumded by Col. Burr's 'letter of the 21st instant This being refu- sed, invites the alternative alluded to in Gen. Hamilton's letter of the 20th. It was required by the position in whch the controversy was placed by Gen. Hamilton, on Friday* last, and I was immediately furnished with a communication demanding a personal interview. The necessity of this measure has not, in the opinion of Col. Burr, been diminished by the Gener- al's last letter, or any communication which has since been received. I am consequently again instructed to deliver you a message, as soon as it may be convenient for you to receive it. I beg, therefore, you will be so good as to in- form me at what hour I can have the pleasure of seeing you. Your most obedient and very humble servant, W. P. VAN NESS. Nath'l. Pendleton, Esq. June 2Qth. 26th June, 1 804. Sir — I have communicated the letter which you did me the honor to write to me of this date, to Gen. Hamilton. The expectations now disclosed on the part of Col. Burr, "June 22d. 202 HAMILTON. appeared to him to have greatly extended the original ground of inquiry, and instead of presenting a particular and definite case for explanation, seem to aim at nothing less than an inquisition into his most confidential conversa- tions, as well as others, through the whole period of his ac- quaintance with Col. Burr. While he was prepared to meet the particular case fairly and fully, he thinks it inadmissible that he should be expec- ted to answer at large as to every thing that he may possibly have said, in relation to the character of Col. Burr, at any time or upon any occasion. Though he is not conscious that any charges which are in circulation to the prejudice of Col. Burr, have originated with him, except one which may I^ave been so considered, and which has long since been ful- ly explained between Col. Burr and himself — yet he cannot consent to be questioned generally as to any rumors which may be afloat derogatory to the character of Col. Burr, with- out specification of the several rumors, many of them prob- ably unknown to him. He does not, however, mean to au- thorise any conclusion as to the real nature of his conduct in relation to Col. Burr, by his declining so loose and vague a basis of explanation, and he disavows an unwillingness to come to a satisfactory, provided it be an honorable accom- modation. His objection is, the very indefinite ground which Colonel Burr has assumed, in which he is sorry to be able to discern nothing short of predetermined hostility. Presuming, therefore, that it will be adhered to, he has in- structed me to receive the message which you have it in charge to dehver. For this purpose I shall be at home, and at your command, to-morrow morning, from eight to ten o'clock. I have the honor to be respectfully, your obedient servant, NATHAN'L. PENDLETON. Wm. P. Van Ness, Esq. Sir — The letter which I had the honor to receive from you, under date of yesterday, states, among other things, that in Gen. Hamilton's opinion. Col. Burr has taken a very indefinite ground, in which he evinces nothing short of pre- determined hostility, and that Gen. Hamilton thinks it inad- missible that the inquiry should extend to his confidential as well as other conversations. In this Col. Burr can only re-- I HATVHLTON. 203 ply, that secret whispers traducmg his fame, and impeach- ing his honor, are, at least, equally injurious v/ith slanders publicly uttered ; that Gen. Hamilton had, at no time, and in no place, a right to use any such injurious expressions ; and that the partial negative he is disposed to give, with the reservations he wishes to make, are proofs that he has done the injury specified. Col. Burr's request was, in the first instance, proposed in a form the most simple, in order that Gen. Hamilton might give to the affair that course to which he might be induced by his temper and his knowledge of facts. Col Burr trust- ed with confidence, that from the frankness of a soldier and the candor of a gentleman, he might expect, an ingenuous declaration. That if, as he had reason to believe, Gen. Hamilton had used expressions derogatory to his honor, he would have had the magnanimity to retract them ; and that if from his language, injurious inferences had been improp- erly drawn, he would have perceived the propriety of cor- recting errors, which might thus have been widely diffused. With these impressions. Col. Burr was greatly surprised at receiving a letter which he considered as evasive, and which in manner he deemed not altogether decorous. In one ex- pectation, however, he was not wholly deceived, for the close of Gen. Hamilton's letter contained an intimation that if Col. Burr should dislike his refusal to acknowledge or de- ny, he was ready to meet the consequences. This Col. Burr deemed a sort of defiance, and would have felt justifi- ed in making it the basis of an immediate message. But as the communication contained something concernino- the in- definiteness of the request ; as he believed it rather the offspring of false pride than of reflection, and as he felt the utmost reluctance to proceed to extremities, while any oth- er hope remained, his request was repeated in terms more explicit. The replies and propositions on the part of Gen. Hamilton have, in Col. Burr's opinion, been constantly in substance the same. Col. Burr disavows all motives of predetermined hostili- ty, a charge by which he thinks insult added to injury. He feels as a gentleman should feel when his honor is impeach- ed or assailed ; and without sensations of hostility or wish- es of revenge, he is determined to vindicate that honor at such hazard as the nature of the case demands. The length to which this correspondence has extended, only tending to prove that the satisfactory redress, earn- 204 IIAMILTOxN. estly desired, canpot be obtained, he deems it useless to of- fer any proposition except the simple message which I shall now have the honor to deliver. I have the honor to be, with great respect, your obedient and very humble serv't. W. P. VAN NESS. Wednesdaif Morning, } June 21th, 1804. ] With this letter a message was received, such as was to be expected, containing an invitation, which was accepted, and Mr. Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness he should hear from hmi the next day as to further particulars. This letter was delivered to Gen. Hamilton on the same evening, and a very short conversation ensued between him and Mr, Pendleton, who was to call on him early the next morning for a further conference. — When he did so, Gen. Hamilton said he had not understood whether the message and answer was definitely concluded, or whether another meeting was to take place for that purpose between Mr. Pendleton and Mr, Van Ness. Under the latter impression, and as the last letter contained matter that naturally led to animadversion, he gave Mr. Pendleton a paper of remarks in his own hand writing, to be communicated to Mr. Van Ness, if the state of the affdr rendered it proper. In an interview with Mr. Van Ness on the same day, after explaining the causes wliich had induced Gen. Hamilton to suppose that the state of the affair did not render it improp- er, Mr. Pendleton offered this paper to Mr. Van Ness ; but he declined receiving it, alleging, that he considered the correspondence as closed by the acceptance of the message that he had delivered. Mr. Pendleton then informed Mr. Van Ness of the in- ducements mentioned by Gen. Hamilton in the paper, for at least postponing the meeting until the close of the Circuit , and as this was uncertain, Mr. Pendleton was to let him know when it would be convenient. Here we think it most proper to introduce the paper it- self The reader will form his own judgment whether it was not Mr. Van Ness's duty to have received it, and shown it to his principal ; he will probably exercise tiis own con- HAMILTON. 205 jecture too as to Mr. Van Ness's motives for not doing so. It follows : — *' Remarks on the letter of June 27, 1804. " Whether the observations on this letter are designed merely to justify the result which is indicated in the close of the letter, or may be intended to give an opening for ren- dering any thing explicit which may have been deemed vague heretofore, can only be judged of by the sequel. At any rate, it appears to me necessary not to be misunder- stood. Mr. Pendleton is therefore authorized to say, that in the course of the present discussion, written or verbal, there has been no intention to evade, defy, or insult, but a sincere disposition to avoid extremities^if it could be done with propriety. With this view. Gen. Hamilton has been ready to enter into a frank and free explanation on any and every object of a specific nature ; but not to answer a gen- eral and abstract inquiry, embracing a period too long for any accurate recollection, and exposing him to unpleasant criticisms from, or unpleasant discussions with, any and eve- ry person, who may have understood him in an unfavorable sense. This (admitting that he could answer in a manner the most satisfactory to Col. Burr) he should deem inadmis- sible, in principle and precedent, and humiliating in prac- tice. To this therefore he can never submit. Frequent allusion has been made to slanders said to be in circulation. — Whether they are openly or in whispers, they have a form and shape, and might be specified. " If the alternative alluded to in the close of the letter is definitively tendered, it must be accepted ; the time, place, and manner, to be afterwards regulated. I should not think it right in the midst of a Circuit Court to withdraw my ser- vices from those who may have confided important interests to me, and expose them to the embarrassment of seeking other counsel, who may not have time to be sufficiently in- structed in their causes. I shall also want a little time t» make some arrangements respecting my own affairs." On Friday the 6th of July, the circuit being closed, Mr. Pendleton informed Mr. Van Ness that General Hamilton would be ready at any time after the Sunday following. On Monday the particulars were arranged — on Wednesday the parties met at Weahawk, on the Jersey shore, at 7 o'clock/ 18 .20$ HAMILTON. A. M. — ^Tke particulars of what then took place will appear trom the following statement. It was nearly seven in the morning when the boat which carried General Hamilton, his friend Mr. Pendleton, and the Surgeon mutually agreed on, Doctor Hosack, reached that part of the Jersey shore called the Weahazvk. There they found Mr. Burr and his friend Mr. Van Ness, who, as I am told, had been employed since their arrival, with coats off, in clearing away the bushes, limbs of trees, &lc. so as to make a faif opening. The parties in a few moments were at their allotted situations : when Mr. Pendleton gave the word, Mr. Burr raised his arm slowly, deliberately took his aim, and fired. His ball entered General Hamilton's right side : as soon as the bullet struck Piim, he raised himself in- voluntarily on his toes, turned a little to the left (at which moment his pistol went off,) and fell upon his face. Mr. Pendleton immediately called out for Dr. Hosack, who, in running to the spot, had to pass Mr. Van Ness and Col. Burr ; but Van Ness had the cool precaution to cover his principal with an umbrella, so that Dr. Hosack should not be able to swear that he saw him on the field. What passed after this, the reader will have in the following letter from Or. Hosack himself August 11th, 1804. " Dear Sir — To comply with your request is a painful task ; but 1 will repress my feelings while I endeavor to fur- nish you with an enumeration of such particulars relative to the melancholy end of our beloved friend Hamilton, as dwell most forcibly on my recollection. ** When called to him, upon his receiving the fatal wound, I found him half sitting on the ground, supported in the arms of Mr. Pendleton, His countenance of death I shall never forget — He had at that instant just strength to say, " This is a mortal wound Doctor ;" when he sunk away, and became to all appearance lifeless. I immediately stripped up his clothes, and soon, alas ! ascertained that the direction of the ball must have been through some vital part. His pulses were not to be felt ; his respiration was entirely sus- pended ; and upon laying my hand on his heart and perceiv- ing no motion there, I considered him as irrecoverably gone. I however observed to Mr. Pendleton, tliat the only chance for his reviving was immediately to get him upon the water. W« therefore lifted him up, and carried him out of the HAMILTON. SOI wood, to the margin of the bank, where the bargemen aid- ed us in conveying him into the boat, which immediately put; off. — During all this time I could not discover the least symptom of returning life. I now rubbed his face, lips, and temples; with spirits of hartshorne, applied it to his neck and breast, and to the wrists and palms of his hands, and en- deavored to pour some into his mouth. When we had got, as I should judge, about fifty yards from the shore, some im- perfect efforts to breathe were for the first time manifest : in a few minutes he sighed, and became sensible to the im- pression of the hartshorne, or the fresh air of the water : He breathed ; his eyes, hardly opened, wandered, without, fixing upon any objects ; to our great joy he at length spoke : " My vision is indistinct," were his first words. His pulse became more perceptible ; his respiration more regular ; his sight returned. I then examimed the wound to know if there was any dangerous discharge of blood ; upon shghtly pressing his side it gave him pain ; on which 1 desisted. Soon after recovering his sight, he happened to cast his eye upon the case of pistols, and observing the one that he had had in his hand lying on the outside, he said, '• Take care of that pistol ; it is undischarged, and still cocked ; it may go off and do harm ; — Pendleton knows, (attempting to turn his head towards him) that I did not in- tend to fire at him." " Yes," said Mr. Pendleton, under- standing his wish, " I have already made Dr. Hosack ac- quainted with your determination as to that." He then closed his eyes and remained calm, without any disposition to speak ; nor did he say much afterwards, excepting in re- ply to my questions as to his feelings. He asked me once or twice how I found his pulse ; and he informed me that his lower extremities had lost all feeling ; manifesting to me that he entertained no hopes that he should long survive. I changed the posture of his hmbs, but to no purpose ; they had totally lost their sensibility. Perceiving that we ap- proached the shore, he said, " Let Mrs. Hamilton be im- mediately sent for— let the event be gradually broken to her; but give her hopes." Looking up we saw his friend Mr. Bayard standing on the wharf in great agitation. He had been told by his servant that Gen. Hamilton, Mr. Pen* dleton, and myself, had crossed the river in a boat together, and too well he conjectured the fatal errand, and foreboded the dreadful result. Perceiving, as we came near, that Mr. Pendleton and myself only sat up in the stern-sheets, he 208 HAMILTON. clasped his hands together in the most violent apprehension , but when I called to him to have a cot prepared, and he at the same moment saw his poor friend lying in the bottom of the boat, he threw up his eyes and burst into a flood of tears and lamentation. Hamilton alone appeared tranquil and composed. We then conveyed him as tenderly as possible up to the house. The distresses of this amiable family were such that till the first shock was abated, they were scarcely able to summon fortitude enough to yield sufficient assistance to their dying friend. " Upon our reaching the house he became more languid, occasioned probably by the agitation of his removal from the boat. I gave him a little weak wine and water. When he recovered his feelings, he complained of pain in his back ; we immediately undressed him, laid him in bed, and darkened the room. I then gave him a large anodyne, which I frequently repeated. During the first day he took upwards of an ounce of laudanum ; and tepid anodyne fomentations were also applied to those parts nearest the seat of his pain — Yet were his sufferings, during the whole of the day, almost intolerable.* I had not the shadow of a hope of his recovery, and Dr. Post, whom I requested might be sent for immediately on our reaching Mr. Bayard's house, united with me in this opinion. General Rey, the French Consul, also had the goodness to invite the surgeons of the French frigates in our harbor, as they had had much experience in gun-shot wounds, to render their assistance. They immediately came ; but to prevent his being disturbed 1 stated to them his situation, described the nature of his wound and the direction of the ball, with all the symptoms that could ena- ble them to form any opinion as to the event. One of the gentlemen then accompanied me to the bed-side. The re- sult was a confirmation of the opinion that had already been expressed by Dr. Post and myself " During the night, he had some imperfect sleep ; but the succeeding morning his symptoms were aggravated, attend- ed however with a diminution of pain. His mind retained *As his habit was dehcate, and had been lately rendered more feeble by ill health, particularly by a disorder of the stomach and bowels, I carefully avoided all those remedies which are usually jadicated on such occasions. HAMILTON. 209 all its usual strength and composure. The great source of 3iis anxiety seemed to be in his sympathy with his half dis- tracted wife and children. He spoke to me frequently of them — ^" My beloved wife and children," were always his expressions. But his fortitude triumphed over his situation, dreadful as it was ; once, indeed at the sight of his children brought to the bed-side together, seven in number, his ut- terance forsook him ; he opened his eyes, gave them one look, and closed them again, till they were taken away. Af. a proof of his extraordinary composure of mind, let me add, that he alone could calm the frantic grief of their mother. 'Remember, my Eliza, you are a Christian," were the ex- pressions with which he frequently, with a firm voice, but in a pathetic and expressive manner, addressd her. His words, and the tone in which they were uttered, will never be effaced from my memory. At about two o'clock, as the public well knows, he expired.! " Incorrupta fides — nudaque Veritas Quaodo ullum iiivenieot parem .'' MultisiJle quidem flebihs occidit." Who would believe, had not the fact evinced it, that the v-on of the venerable President Burr, that model of christian patience, charity and meekness ; that the son of such a man, the second officer in the United States, should in di- rect violation of the laws of 'heaven and his own state; af- ter every means of reconciliation, on the part of the unfor- tunate deceased, that was consistent with honor, had been exhausted, should take a cool and deliberate aim against the ^first citizen of our country ; the father of a numerous family ; the husband of a most affectionate wife ; an orna- ment to his country and human nature. Could nothing but liis blood atone for expressions honestly intended for the public good, and authorized by every just principle of an elective government ? Could nothing allay the cool, persever- ing and premeditated resentment of his antagonist, but the heart's blood of such a man ? Well, he is gone ! Gone with the tenderest esteem, the highest respect, the most affectionate tears that ever fell ok the tomb of a public character. He has gone to receiye f Extracts from Facts and Documents relative to the defttk bX General tIamiJtoa. *18 210 HAMILTON. the rich reward of the many and great exertions for his country's welfare. Trusting in the merits of his Saviour, penitent for his past sins, forgiving even the foe from whom he received his mortal wound ; he is gone to receive that recompense of reward, which is the meed of the truly up- right and benevolent. Far be it from us, at this time, to excite the angry pas- sions against the guilty author of this mighty ruin. He lives, and long may he live, his hands stained with blood un- righteously shed ! But we cannot refrain from giving a place to the following circumstances, which occurred in the city of Albany soon after the death of Hamilton. " On Sunday morning the afflicted Mrs. Hamilton attend- ed service in the Presbyterian Church in this city, with her three little ones, " At the close of a prayer by the Rev. Mr. Nott, the eld- est dropped on his face, in a fainting fit. " Two gentlemen immediately raised him, and while bear- ing him out of church, the afflicted mother sprung forward, in the agonies of grief and despair, towards her apparently lifeless son. " The heart-rending scene she had recently struggled with, called forth all the fine spun sensibilities of her nature ; and seemed to say, nature must, and wdll be indulged in her keenest sorrows. She was overpow^ered in the conflict, and likewise sunk, uttering such heart-rending groans, and in- ward sighs, as would have melted into mingled sympathies, even Burr himself ' Both of them stood recovered ; and while the little son was supported standing on the steps, yet speechless, the most affecting scene presented itself The mother in this tender situation, fastened herself upon the son, with her head reclining on his left shoulder : the agonies so strongly [)ainted on her countenance ; her long flowing weeds ; the majesty of her person ; the position of both ; and above all, the peculiarity of their trying situation in the recent loss of a husband and a father ; who could refrain from invo- king on the head of the guilty author of their miseries, those curses he so richly merits ? The curse of living des- pised, and execrated by the voice of a whole nation ; the curse of being held up to the view of future ages, a mon- bTER, and an assassin." "After the death of General Hamilton, a note which had HAMILTON. 211 been written the evening before the interview, was found, addressed to the gentleman who accompanied him to the field ; thanking him with tenderness for his friendship to him, and informing him where would be found the keys of certain drawers in his desk, in which he had deposited such papers as he had thought proper to leave behind him ; to- gether with his last Will. The following paper, as containing his motives for accept- ing the challenge ; his reflections on his situation ; and some remarks on the conduct of the man, who was to be the cause of his death, is presented as a highly interesting document. On my expected interview with Col. Burr, I think it prop- er to make some remarks explanatory of my conduct, mo- tives, and views. I was certainly desirous of avoiding this interview for the most cogent reasons. 1. My rehgious and moral principles are strongly opposed to the practice of duelling, and it would ever give me pain to be obliged to shed the blood of a fellow creature in a private combat forbidden by the laws. 2. My wife and children are extremely dear to me, and my life is of the utmost importance to them, in various views. 3. I feel a sense of obligation towards my creditors ; who in case of accident to me, by the forced sale of my proper- ty, may be in some degree sufferers. I did not think my- self at liberty as a man of probity, lightly to expose them to this hazard. 4. I am conscious of no ill will to Col. Burr, distinct from political opposition, which, as I trust, has proceeded from pure and upright motives. Lastly, I shall hazard much, and can possibly gain no- thing by the issue of the interview. But it was, as I conceive, impossible for me to avoid it. There were intrinsic difficulties in the thing, and artificial embarrassments from the manner of proceeding on the part of Col Burr.^ Intrinsic, because it is not to be denied, that my animad- versions on the political principles, character, and views of Col. Burr, have been extremely severe ; and on different occasions, I, in common with many others, have made very n% HAMILTON. unfavorable criticisms on particular instances of the private conduct of this gentleman. In proportion as these impressions were entertained with sincerity, and uttered with motives, and for purposes which might appear to me commendable, would be the dif- ficulty, (until they could be removed by evidence of their being erroneous,) of explanation or apology. The disa- vowal required of me by Col. Burr, in a general and indefi- nite form, was out of my power, if it had really been proper for me to submit to be questioned ; but I was sincerely of opinion that this could not be, and in this opinion, I was confirmed by that of a very moderate and judicious friend whom I consulted. Besides that, Col. Burr appeared to me to assume, in the first instance, a tone unnecessarily pe- remptory and menacing, and in the second, positively offen- sive. Yet I wished, as far as might be practicable, to leave a door open to accommodation. This, I think, will be infer- red from the written communications made by me and by my direction, and would be confirmed by the conversations between Mr. Van Ness and myself, which arose out* of the subject, I am not sure whether, under all the circumstances, I did not go further in the attempt to accommodate, than a punc- tihous delicacy will justify. If so, 1 hope the motives I have stated will excuse me. It is not my design, by what I have said, to affix any odi- um on the conduct of Col. Burr, in this case. He doubt- less has heard of animadversions of mine which bore very hard upon him ; and it is probable that as usual they were accompanied with some falsehoods. He may have suppo- sed himself under a necessity of acting as he has done. I hope the grounds of his proceeding have been such as ought to satisfy his own conscience. I trust at the same time, that the world will do me the justice to believe, that I have not censured him on light grounds, nor from unworthy inducements. I certainly have had strong reasons for what I may have said, though it is possible that in some particulars, I may have been influen- ced by misconstruction or misinformation. It is also my ardent wish that I may have been more mistaken than I think I have been, and that he, by his future conduct, may show himself worthy of all confidence and esteem, and prove an ornament and blessing to the country. As well because it is possible that I may have injured I HAYNE. 213 Col. Burr, however convinced myself that my opinions and declarations have been well founded, as from my general principles and temper in relation to similar affairs, I have resolved, if our interview is conducted in the usual man- ner, and it pleases God to give me the opportunity, to reserve and throw away my first fire, and I have thoughts even oi re- serving my second fire — and thus giving a double opportu- nity to Col. Burr, to pause and to reflect. It is not, however, my intention to enter into any explan- ation on the ground — Apology from principle, I hope, rather than pride, is out of the question. To those who, with me, abhorring the practice of duel- ling, may think that I ought on no account to have added to the number of bad examples, I answer, that my relative sit- uation, as well in public as private, enforcing all the consid- erations which constitute what men of the world denomin- ate honor, imposed on me (as I thought) a peculiar necessi- ty not to dechne the call. The ability to be in future use- ful, whether in resisting mischief or effecting good, in those crises of our public affairs which seem likely to happen, would probably be inseparable from a conformity with public prejudice in this particular."* A. H." ISAAC HATrmEIy Colonel in the American Army. " This gentleman had been a distinguished and very ac- tive officer in the American service, previous to the subju- gation of Charleston. When this event took place, he found himself called to a separation from his family, a de- reliction of his property, and submission to the conqueror. In this situation he thought it his duty to become a voluntary prisoner, and take his parole. On surrendering himself, he offered to engage and stand bound on the principles of hon- or, to do nothing prejudicial to the British interest until he was exchanged ; but his abilities and his services were of such consideration to his country, that he was refused a parole, and told he must become a British subject, or sub- mit to close confinement. * Vide Facts and Documents relative to Gen. Hamilton. ^14 HAYNE. " His family was then in a distant part of the country, and in great distress by sickness, and from the ravages ol' the loyaUsts in their neighbourhood. Thus he seemed im- pelled to acknowledge himself the subject of a govermnent he had relinquished from the purest principles, or renounce his tenderest connexions, and leave them without a possibil- ity of his assistance, and at a moment when he hourly ex- pected to hear of the death of an affectionate wife, ill of the small-pox. In this state of anxiety, he subscribed a declaration of his allegiance to the King of Great Britain, with this express ex- ception, that he should never be required to take arms against his country. Notwithstanding this, he was soon and repeatedly called upon to arm in support of a government he detested, or to submit to the severest punishment. — Brigadier General Patterson, commandant of the garrison, and the intendant of the British poUce, a Mr. Simpson, had both assured Colonel Hayne, that no such thing would be required ; and added, " that when the royal army could not defend a country without the aid of its inhabitants, it would be time to quit it."* Colonel Hayne considered a requisition to act in British service, after assurances that this would never be required, as a breach of contract, and a release in the eye of con- science, from any obligation on his part. Accordingly he took the first opportunity of resuming his arms as an Am<:;iican, assumed the command of his own regiment and all fond of their former commander, Colonel Hayne i marched with a defensible body to the relief of his coun- trymen, then endeavouring to drive the British partisans, and keep them within the environs of Charleston. Hej very unfortunately in a short time fell into the hands of a strong British party, sent out for the recovery of a favorite officer,! who had left the American cause, and become a devotee to British government. As soon as Colonel Hayne was captured, he was closely imprisoned. This was on the twenty-sixth of July. He was notified the same day, that a court of officers would assemble the next day, to determine in what point of view he ought to be considered. On the twenty-ninth he was * See a representation of Col. Hayne's case, laid before Con- gress after his death t This was Gen. Williamson, captured within seven miles oi the city, by a small reconnoitering party sent out by Col, Hayne. HAYNE. 215 iuformed, that in consequence of a court of inquiry held the day before, Lord Rawdon and Lieutenant Colonel Bal- four had resolved upon his execution within two days. His astonishment at these summary and illegal proceed- ings can scarcely be conceived. He wrote Lord Rawdon, that he had no intimation of any thing more than a court of inquiry, to determine whether he should be considered as an American or a British subject : if the first, he ought to be set at liberty on parole ; if the last, he claimed a legal trial. He assured his lordship, that on a trial he had many things to urge in his defence ; reasons that would be weighty in a court of equity ; and concluded his letter with observing, — " If, sir, I am refused this favor, which I can- not conceive from your justice or humanity, I earnestly en- treat that my execution may be deferred ; that I may at least take a last farewell of my children, and prepare for the solemn change."* But his death predetermined, his enemies were deaf to the voice of compassion. The execution of his senten was hastened, though the reputation and merits of this gcxi- tleman were such, that the whole city was zealous for his preservation. Not only the inhabitants in opposition to British government, but even Lieutenant Governor Bull at the head of the royalists, interceded for his life. The principal ladies of Charleston endeavoured, by their com- passionate interference, to arrest or influence the relentless hand of power. They drew up and presented to Lord Rawdon, a delicate and pathetic petition in his behalf His near relations, and his children, who had just performed the funeral rites over the grave of a tender mother, appeared on their bended knees, to implore the life of their father. — • But in spite of the supplications of children and friends, strangers and foes, the flinty heart of Lord Rawdon remain- ed untouched, amidst these scenes of sensibility and distress. No amelioration of the sentence could be obtained ; and this affectionate father took a final leave of his children in a manner that pierced the souls of the beholders. To the eldest of them, a youth of but thirteen years of age, he de- livered a transcript of his case, directed him to convey it to Congress, and ordered him to see that his father's remains were deposited in the tomb of his ancestors, * See a more full account of {he treatment of Col. Hayaeia his •wn papers, afterwards presented to Congress. 216 HEATH. Pinioned like a criminal, this worthy citizen walked with composure through the crowds of admiring spectators, with the dignity of the philosopher, and the intrepidity of the christian. He suffered as a hero, and was hanged as a fel- on, amidst the tears of the multitude, and the curse of thousands, who execrated the perpetrators of this cruel deed.t IVIZiZiXAIiI SSiLTH, Major-General in the American Army. General Heath descended from an ancient family, and was of the fifth generation of the family, who have inherited the same real estate taken up in a state of nature. He was born in the year 1737, in Roxbury, Mass. and was from his youth a cultivator of the soil, of which profession he was passionately fond. From his childhood he was remarkably fond of miUtary exercises, which passion grew up with him, and as he arri- ved at years of maturity, led him to procure, and attentively study every mihtary treatise in the English language, which he could procure. As the dispute between Great Britain and her American colonies assumed a serious aspect. Heath did not hesitate, for a moment, to declare his sentiments in favor of the rights and liberties of his fellow-countrymen. So early as the year 1770, he commenced addresses to the public, under the signature of"A Military Countryman," in which he ur- ged the importance of military discipline, and skill in the use of arms, as the only means, under heaven, that could save the country, and he assiduously applied himself in or- ganizing and disciplining the companies of militia and minute- men. Being ranked among the patriots and advocates for liber- ty, he was commissioned in 1775, by the Provincial Con- gress, as a brigadier-general, and in 1776, he received a com- mission from Congress, appointing him a major-general in the army of the United States. Though high in rank, as an officer of parade and discipline, we look in vain for laurels acquired in the field. Had it f Warren's Revolution. HEATH. 217 "been his destiny, however, to encounter the perils of a con - flict in the field of battle, no one can say how valorously he would have acted the hero. During the years 1777 and 1778, he w^as the command- ing officer of the eastern department, with his head-quarters at Boston. Here devolved upon him the arduous and diffi- cult duties of superintendent of the convention troops cap- tured with Burgoyne at Saratoga, and now quartered at Cambridge. The station required the exercise of uncom- mon firmness and decision of character. And had Gen. Heath been destitute of these characteristics, he would have been subjected to the grossest impositions and indignities, from the haughtiness o^ the British generals, Burgoyne and Phillips, and the perverse temper of their soldiery. He who had vauntingly declared in the British Parliament, that " with five thousand men, he would make elbow room from one end of the continent to the other," could ill support himself under the chagrin and mortification of a state of captivity. His lofty spirit frequently broke forth, but Gen- eral Heath soon convinced him that he was neither deficient in spirit, nor ignorant of his duty, as a military commander. The following circumstances that occurred during the stay of the British troops at Cambridge, and the letters which passed between the officers, at once show the difficulties which arose in the path of duty prescribed to General Heath, and the promptness and vigor with which he met, and surmounted them. Soon after the arrival of the British generals at Cambrido-c they made an insidious attempt to retain the chief command over their own troops. In a conversation, General Philips turning to General Heath, observed, " Sir, you well know the disposition of soldiers, and that they will more or less in all armies commit some disorders ; suppose you should del- egate to General Burgoyne the power of seeing your orders executed ?" General Heath promptly replied, "that he knew the dis- position of soldiers, and also the necessity of order and dis- cipline ; that he was not only willing, but expected that Gen. Burgoyne, and every other officer would exert them- selves to keep order. But as to the exercise of his own command, and enforcement of his own orders when neces- sary, that was a jurisdiction which General Burgoyne must not expect to exercise while here." Far two weeks after his arrival in Boston, General Bur- 19 iU HEATH. goyiie had ncf.4ecled upon trilling excuses, to sign his pa- role in the manner specified in tlie articles of capitulation. Finding hi\ii thus disposed to evade. General Heath ad- dressed him the following letter. Head-Quarters, Boston, Aoi'. 23, 1777. '■'- Sir, '■'' Two weeks have now elapsed since I had fully expect- ed that the officers would have signed their paroles. They have, during this time, been enjoying in a great measure the liberty of the limits intended to be .assigned them, without pledging their honor by parole ; which is not only contrary to the established custom of nations, but contrary to the eleventh article of the Convention. I must, therefore, in the most explicit terms, insist that the officers who wish and expect to be permitted on parole, agreeably to the Conven- tion, do sign it to-morrow. This is so reasonable, that I expect there will be no further hesitancy ; and 1 still assure your Excellency, that no endeavors of mine shall be want- ing to fulfil the Convention, and to treat the officers with politeness and generosity. I am, &c. (Signed) Wm. HEATH. To Lieut. Gen. Burgoyne." November 8th, 1777. Congress directed General Heath "'• to cause to be taken down the name and rank of every com- missioned officer, and the name, size, age and description of every non-commissioned officer and private, and all oth- er persons comprised in the convention made between Lieu- tenant General Burgoyne and Major General Gates, on the 16th of October, 1777, and transmit an authentic copy there- of to the board of war, in order that if any officer or soldier, or other person as above mentioned, of the said army, shall hereafter be found in arms against these States, during the present contest, he may be convicted of the offence, and suf- fer the punishment in such case inflicted by the law of na- tions." " Upon the foregoing being communicated to General Burgoyne, and he called upon to have the said descriptive lists made out accordingly, he wrote our general the follow- ing letter :— - HEATH. 219 Cambridge, JVov. 20, 1777. '' Sir, •' I received a paper, dated Head-Quarters, Boston, Nov. 20th, purporting to be founded upon express orders from the Honor al)le Continental Congress, which paper I return as inadmissible, because extending to matters in which the Congress have no right of interference. " A list of the names and rank of every commissioned offi- cer, and the numbers of the non-commissioned officers and soldiers, may be necessary to you, ^ir, for the purpose of fulfilling the Convention, in quartering officers, and the reg- ular delivery of provisions, fuel, ^c. Such lists shall be prepared at your request ; but before any other lists can be granted, I must be assured of the purposes for which they are intended, and the word order must neither be mention- ed nor implied. I have the honor to be, &c. (Signed) J. Burgoyne, Lt. Gen. To Major Gen. Heath." To the foreoroinij, our General wrote an answer as fol- lows : Head-Quarters, Boston, A''oij. 21, 1777. " Sir, '= Your's of yesterday is before me ; and although you might at first imagine that the Honorable Continental Con- gress have no right of interference in matteis of the Con- vention, yet I conclude, upon further reflection you must be convinced, that as that body are the Representatives of that people who are to reap the advantages or disadvantages of the Convention, and as all coniinental officers arc acting by virtue of their autliority, and under tlicir direction, they as- suredly have a right of interference, and to give such or- ders to their officers as they may think proper, for the full completion of the Convention, and for the safety and good of the people, " I must therefore insist that you furnish me with proper lists ofnames, and descriptions, for the purpose before men- tioned as soon as may be. " 1 shall. at all times endeavor to found my orders on the principles of honor, reason and justice, and not to infringe those delicate principles in others ; but my orders for the purposes of order and regularity, must be obeyed by every man and all bodies of men placed under my direction ; and 220 HEATH. fully determined I am. that offenders shall not pass with in> punity. I am, &:.c. (Signed) W. HEATH. Lieut. Gen, Burgoyne. General Burgoyne had received intimations that a fleet of transports were about to come round for the troops, and that the Juno frigate was to wear a flag for his particular accommodation. This he mentioned to General Heath, and wished to know if the frigate might come up into the the harbor. General Heath had no apprehensions of any danger from a frigate entering the harbor, but apprehended that some people might think that he was not sufficiently vigilant, in case he allowed it. He therefore told Geixeral Burgoyne that the frigate could not come up into the har- bor, and hinted to him the taking one of the most conven- ient transports in the fleet for the purpose ; and he might do as he pleased when he got off. This touched General Burgoyne exceedingly, who wrote a letter to General Heath, in which was the following paragraph: " As to your allotment of a " convenient transport'" for my passage, it was from yourself I am to thank you, Sir, for a sort of insult which the most haughty man of office would be ashamed of in any other country. However, as I am determined every transaction concerning this Con- vention shall be notorious, and beyond the powers of subter- fuge to explain away, I have directed the frigate together with the transports to come round, and it will then be for you, Sir, to prohibit the entry of Boston harbor, to any ships bearing a flag of truce, and declaring they are sent for the express purpose of conveying to Great Britain any part of the troops of the Convention. (Signed) J. BURGOYNE. Maj. Gen. Heath." To which Gen. Heath wrote the following answer : Head-Quarters, Boston, Jan. 5, 1778. '• Sir, " Your Excellency's favor of yesterday came duly to hand ; and I must confess I was not a little surprised at some expressions in it. " As by the Convention, transports only are stipulated to receive the troops, I submit to you, Sir, whether a liint (if HEATH. 221 you were even sure that it came from myself) that you should take a convenient one, rather than introduce a frigate, which is neither expressed or implied in the Convention, merits those epithets which you are pleased to bestow on me. " I have ever aimed to treat you with pohteness ; and the plighted faith and honor of my country require me to pay strict attention to the Convention on their part : of course, when transports arrive to receive the troops, they will enter the harbor ; and if you can find by the Convention that a frigate is to enter for the particular reception cf yourself, she will not be prohibited. But if it is rather uncommon for ships of war, to bear flags of truce, and if consent- ing to it in the present case, should appear to be rather an act of politeness and generosity than otherwise, I leave you to your own reflections whether you have made choice of the most happy expressions to obtain it. (Signed) W. HEATH. Lieut. Gen. Burgovne." Another serious matter took place about this time ; Col. Henley, who had the immediate command at Cambridge, a brave and good oflicer, Imt warm and quick in his natural temper! having ordered somo prisoners who were under guard turned out, that he might examine them, one of them treated him, as he judged, with much insolence ; upon which he pricked him with a sword, or bayonet. General Bur- goyne immediately presented a complaint against Col. Hen- ley, charging him with barbarous and wanton conduct, and intentional murder, as appears in the following letter. Cambridge, Jan. 9ih, 1778. " Sir, ** A report has been made to me of a disturbance that happened at the barracks on Wednesday- afternoon, for which I am much concerned ; and though the provocations from your people, which originally occasioned it, were of the most atrocious nature, I was willing the offender on our part should be properly punished. But Colonel Henley, not content with that, made prisoners of eighteen innocent men, and sent them on board a guard-ship, as alleged by your order. It is not only a duty to my situation to demand the immediate discharge of these men, together with a sat- isfactory apology ; but I also mean it as an attention to yoUj 222 HEATH. Sir, that I give you an immediate opportunity to disavow so unjustifiable a proceeding, as committing men to the worst of prisons upon vague report, caprice and passion. (Signed) I am, &c. J. BURGOYNE." To which our general returned the following answer : Head-Quarters, Boston, Jan. 10th, 1778. *' Sir, " Your's, of yesterday's date, 1 received the last eve- ning. What provocations you allude to, as having been of- fered by my troops, I am at loss to determine. The insults and abuses which they have received, I will venture to say, unless I have been most grossly misinformed, are unparal- led ; and whether you are willing or unwilling, Sir, offenders shall no longer pass with impunity. " If it can be made to appear, that if any of those sol- diers sent to the guard-ship by my orders, are innocent, they shall be released from their confinement : but with respect to such as have been guilty of violating my standing orders of the garrison, instead of disavowing or making any apol- ogy for the confinement of such, be assured that I do most explicitly avow^ it. And as I have before observed to your Excellency in a former letter, of which you may be assur- ed, I shall at all times endeavor to found my orders on the principles of honor, reason and justice, and not to infringe those delicate principles in others : so also be assured. Sir, that such my orders shall be obeyed by every officer and soldier placed under my direction ; and such as have the hardiness to transgress them, shall abide the consequences. (Signed) I am &c. W. HEATH. June 7th, 1778, a British officer was shot by an Ameri- can sentinel, the officer attempting to pass contrary to the standing orders. The sentinel was immediately reheved and put under guard, to await a legal trial. Upon receiving an official account. Gen. Heath immediately informed Ma- ior-General Phillips, who was now the senior British officer, Burgoyne having sailed for England, of the circumstance, ^ndof his determination to give the offender a fair trial. A few minutes after General Heath had sent his letter, he received the following from General PhilUps : — Cambridge, June 17, 1778. " Murder and death has at length taken place. An officer, riding out from the barracks on Prospect Hill, has HEATH. 223 been sliot by an American sentinel. I leave the horrors inci- dent to that bloody disposition, which has joined itself to rebellion in these colonies, to the feelings of all Europe. I do not ask for justice, for I believe every principle of it is fled from this province. " I demand liberty to send an officer to Sir Henry Clinton, by way of the Head quarters of Gen. Washington, with my report of this murder. (Signed) W. PHH.LIPS, M. G. " Maj. Gen. Heath." The next mornincr our General wrote the folio wins to General Phillips : — " Head-Quarters, Boston, Jtme 18, 1778. " Sir — Were it even certain that the shooting of the offi- cer was an act of the most deliberate wilful murder, why should you charge these free independent states with a bloody disposition and with rebellion, and this state in par- ticular as void of every principle of justice 1 Although I ever had, and still have, a personal regard for you, and wish in every respect to treat you with the utmost generosity ; yet that duty which I owe to the honor and dignity of the United States, will not allow me to pass unnoticed such ex- pressions as are contained in your letter ; and I cannot put any other interpretation upon them, than that they are a vi- olent infraction of your parole, most sacredly given. I do conceive it to be my duty, and I do hereby restrict you to the hmits of your house, gardens and yard,- and to the direct road from your quarters to the quarters of the troops of the Convention, on Prospect and Winter Hills ; expecting from yoLi a parole, for propriety of conduct within those limits ; which, if you refuse, I shall be under the necessity of order- ing you to narrower limits, until I can obtain the pleasure of the honourable the congress, touching this matter, to whom I shall transmit your letter, and crave their directions. I am. Sir, your obedient serv't. (Signed) W. HEATH, Maj. Gen. " Head-Quarters, Boston, June 18, 1778. " Sir- — You will immediately repair to Cambridge, and wait upon Maj. Gen. Phillips : present him the letter addres- sed to him. After he has read the letter, present the pa- role ; if he signs it, well ; if he refuses, you will please to in- form him, that in consequence of the indecent, dishonorable, 224 HEATH. and highly insiiltmg expressions in his letter of yesterday, against the honor and dignity of the free, sovereign, and in- dependent states of America, and in prejudice of the meas- ures and proceedingsof the honorable the congress — as it is my duty, so it is my express orders, that he, the said Maj. Gen. Phillips, be restricted to the limits of his house, yards and gardens, beyond which he is not to pass, until it be oth- erwise ordered ; and that you immediately plant and contin- ue by relief so many sentries, as may be necessary to pre- vent his exceeding those limits. You will give orders that the sentries, so planted, observe a strict decorum and soi- dier-like beliaviour, avoiding insult, and behavincr with be- coming dignity. After which, you will wait on the next senior officer, and acquaint him of Gen. Phillips being con- fined. I am, Sir, vours. «fec. (Signed) \V. HEATH, Maj. Gen. Lieut. Col. Pollard, i). A. G." Gen. Phillips continuing to exhibit the same temper, or it rather growing upon him, he was continued in his arrest, until the troops of the convention were ordered to be remo- ved to Charlotteville, in Virginia, when Gen. Heath was re- lieved altogether of his troublesome guests. "In June, 1779, Gen. Heath was elected by Congress a commissioner of the Board of War, with a salary of 4000 dol- lars per annum, and allowed to retain his rank in the army, which hedeclined, preferring to participate in active opera- tions in the field. In the summer of 1780, he was directed, by the command- er in chief, to repair to Rhode-Island, to make arrangements for the reception of the French fleet and army, which were expected soon to arrive. In his interview with the Count Kochambeau, and other officers of the French army and na- vy, he proffered his friendly civilities, and contributed all in his power to their comfortable accommodation, which w^as productive of a nmtual and lasting friendship between them. Indefatigable attention to duty, in the various stations assign- ed him, was a prominent trait in his character. In May, 1781, Gen. Heath was directed, by the commander in chief, to repair to the New-England states, to represent to their respective executives the distressing condition of our army, and to solicit a speedy supply of provisions and clothing, in which he was successful. As senior major-general, he was KNOX. 22S more than once commander of the right wing of our army, and during the absence of the commander in chief, at the siege of Yorktown, he was entrusted with the command of the main army, posted at the Highlands and vicinity, to guard the important works on the Hudson. On the 24th of June, 1784, hostihties having ceased between the two armies, Gen. Washington addressed a letter to Gen. Heath, expressing his thanks for his meritorious services, and his great affection and esteem, and on the same day they took their final leave. Such was General Heath's pubKc Hfe. His private one was retired and domestic, amiable, orderly and industrious, but not remarkable for hospitality, or a liberal appropriation of property to public purposes. He died at Roxbury, Janit- ary 24th, aged 77 years.* HEXTRIT KZf OX, Major General in the American Aiiny. For the biography of this distinguished soldier of the revolution, and also for that of Gen. Lincoln, which follows^ we are indebted to the highly interesting work of James Thacher, M. D. entitled " Military Journal during the American Revolutionary War," from which we have ex- tracted them. " x\mong those of our countrymen, who most zealously engaged in the cause of liberty, few sustained a rank more deservedly conspicuous, than Gen. Knox. He was one of those heroes, of whom it may be truly said, that he lived for his country. Born in Boston, July, 1750, his childhood and youth were employed in obtaining the best education, that the justly celebrated schools of his native town allbrded. In very early life he opened a book-store, for the enlargement of which he soon formed an extensive correspondence in Eu- rope — but little time elapsed before, at the call of his coun- try, he rehnquishcd this lucrative and increasing business. Indebted to no adventitious aid, his character was formed by himself; the native and vigorous principles of his own mind made him what he was. " Distinguished among his as- *Thacher's Military Journal. 226 KNOX. sociates, from the first dawn of manhood, for a decided pre- dilection to martial exercises, he was at the age of eighteen, selected by the young men of Boston as one of the officers of a company of grenadiers — a company so distinguished for its martial appearance, and the precision of its evolu- tions, that it received the most flattering encomium, from a British officer of high distinction. This early scene of his military labors, served but as a school for that distinguished talent which afterwards shone with lustre, in the most brilliant campaigns of an ei^ht years war ; through the whole of which, he directed the artillery with consummate skill and bravery. His heart was deeply engaged in the cause of freedom ; he felt it to be a righteous cause, and to its accompiislnnent yielded every other consideration. When Britain declared hostilities, he hesitated not a moment, what course he should pursue. No sordid calculation of interest retarded his decision. The quiet of domestic life, the fair prospect of increasing wealth, and even the endearing claims ot family and friends, though urged with the most persuasive eloquence, had no power to divert the determined purpose of his mind. In the early stages of British hostility, though not in commission, he was not an inactive spectator. At the bat- tle of Bunker-hill, as a volunteer, he was constantly expo- sed to danger, in reconnoitering the movements of the ene- my, and his ardent mind was engaged with others in pre- paring those measures that were ultimately to dislodge the British troops, from their boasted possession of the capital of New-England. Scarcely had we began to feel the aggressions of tlie British arms, before it was perceived, that without artillery, of which we were then destitute, the most important ob- jects of the war could not be accomplished. No resource presented itself, but the desperate expedient of procuring it from the Canadian frontier. To attempt this, in the agita- ted state of the country, through a wide extent of wilder- ness, was an enterprize so replete with toil and danger, that it was hardly expected any one would be found hardy enough to encounter its perils. Knox, however, saw the importance of the object — he saw his country bleeding al every porn, without the power of repelling her invaders — he saw tlie lloiirishing Capital of the North in the posses- sion of an exulting enemy, that we were destitute of the KNOX. 227 liieans essential to their annoyance, and formed the daring and generous resolution of supplying the army with ord- nance, however formidable the obstacles that might oppose him. Young, robust and vigorous, supported by an un- daunted spirit, and a mind ever fruitful in resources, he commenced his mighty undertaking, almost unattended, in the winter of 1776, relying solely for the execution of his object, on such aid as he might procure, from the thinly scattered inhabitants of the dreary region, through which he had to pass. Every obstacle of season, roads and cli- mate were surmounted by determined perseverance ; — and a few weeks, scarcely sufficient for a journey so remote, saw him return laden with ordnance and the stores of war — drawn in defiance of every obstacle over the frozen lakes and mountains of the north. Most acceptable was this of- fering to our defenceless troops, and most welcome to the Commander in Chief, who well knew how to appreciate a .-ervice so important. This expedition stamped the char- acter of him who performed it for deeds of enterprise and daring. He received the most flattering testimony of ap- probation from the Commander in Chief and from Con- gress, and was in consequence of this important service ap- pointed to the command of the artillery, of which he had thus laid the foundation, — in which command he continued with increasing reputation through the revolutionary war. Among the incidents that occurred during the expedition to Canada, was his accidental meeting with the unfortunate Andre, whose subsequent fate was so deeply deplored by every man of feeling in both nations. His deportment as a soldier and gentleman so far interested General Knox in his "favor, that he often afterward expressed the most sincere regret, that he was called by duty, to act on the tribunal that pronounced his condemnation. During the continuance of the war, the corps of artille- ry was principally employed with the main body of the ar- my, and near the person of the Commander in Chief, and was relied on as an essential auxihary in the most important battles. Trenton and Princeton witnessed his enterprise and val- or. At that critical period of our affairs, when hope had almost yielded to despair, and the great soul of Washington, trembled for his country's freedom, Knox was one of those tliat strengthened his hand, and encouraged his heart. At that awful moment, when the tempest raged with its great- 228 KNOX. est fury, he with Greene and other heroes, stood as pillars of the Temple of Liberty, till the fury of the storm was past. The letters of General Knox, still extant, written in the darkest periods of the revolution, breathe a spirit of devo- tedness to the cause in which he had embarked, and a firm reliance on the favor of Divine Providence ; from a perusal of these letters it is evident, that he never yielded to de- spondency, but in the most critical moments of the w^ar. confidently anticipated its triumphant issue. In the bloody fields of Germantown and Monmouth, without derogating from the merits of others, it maybe said, that during the whole of these hard fought battles, no officer was more distinguished for the discharge of the arduous duties of his command ; — in the front of the battle, he was seen animating his soldiers and pointing the thunder of their cannon. His skill and bravery were so conspicuous on the latter occasion, that he received the particular ap- probation of the Commander in Chief, in general orders is- sued by him the day succeeding that of the battle, in which he says, that " the enemy have done them the justice to acknowledge, that no artillery could be better served than ours." But his great exertions on that occasion, together with the extreme heat of the day, produced the most alarm- ing consequences to his health. To these more important scenes, his services were not confined ; with a zeal devoted to our cause, he was ever at the post of danger^ — and the immortal hero, who stands first on the list of heroes and of men, has often expressed his sense of these services. In every field of battle, where Washington fought, Knox w^as by his side. The confidence of the Commander in Chief inspired by early services, was thus matured by succeeding events. There can be no higher testimony to his merits, than that during a war of so long continuance, past almost constantly in the presence of W ashington, he uniformly re- tained his confidence and esteem, which at their separation had ripened into friendship and affection. The parting in- terview between General Knox and his illustrious and be- loved chief, after the evacuation of New York by the Brit- ish, and Knox had taken possession of it at the head of a detachment of our army, was inexpressibly affecting. The hoar of their separation having arrived, W ashington, inca- pable of utterance, grasped his hand and embraced him in sUence, and in tears. His letters to the last moment of his KNOX. 229 life, contain the most flattering expressions of his unabated friendship. Honorable to himself as had been the career of his revolutionary services, new laurels were reserved for him at the siege of Yorktown. To the successful result of this memorable siege, the last brilliant act of our revolu- tionary contest, no officer contributed more essentially than the commander of the artillery. His animated exertions, his military skill, his cool and determined bravery in this trmmphant struggle, received the unanimous approbation of his brethren in arms, and he was immediately created major general by Congress, at the recommendation of the Com- mander in Chief, with the concurrence of the whole army. The capture of Lord Cornwallis closed the contest, and with it his military life. Having contributed so essentially to the successful termination of the war, he was selected as one of the commissioners to adjust the terms of peace, which service he performed in conjunction with his col- leagues, much to the satisfaction of his country. He was deputed to receive the surrender of the city of New York, and soon after appointed to the command of West Point. — It was here that he was employed in the delicate and ardu- ous duty of disbanding the army, and inducing a soldiery, disposed to turbulence by their privations and sufferings, to retire to domestic life, and resume the peaceful character of citizens. It is a fact most honorable to his character, that by his countenance and support, he rendered the most essential aid to Washington, in suppressing that spirit of usurpation which had been industriously fomented by a few unprinci- pled and aspiring men, whose aim was the subjugation of the country to a military government. No hope of political elevation — no flattering assurances of aggrandizement could tempt him to build his greatness on the ruin of his country. The great objects of the war being accomplished, and peace restored to our country. General Knox was early, under the confederation, appointed secretary of war by Congress, in which office he was confirmed by President Washington, after the establishment of the Federal Gov- ernment. The duties of this office were ultimately in- creased, by having those of the navy attached to them — to the establishment of which his counsel and exertions emi- nently contributed. He differed in opinion from some other 20 230 KNOX. members of the cabinet on this most interesting subject.* One of the greatest men whom our country has produced, has uniformly declared, that he considered America much indebted to his efforts, for the creation of a power which has already so essentially advanced her respectability and fame. Having filled the office of the War Department for elev- en years, he obtained the reluctant consent of President WashinjTton to retire, that he might give his attention to the claims of a numerous and increasing family. This retire- ment was in concurrence with the wishes of Mrs. Knox, who had accompanied him through the trying vicissitudes of war, shared with him its toils and perils, and w^ho was now de- sirous of enjoying the less busy scenes of domestic life. — A portion of the large estates of her ancestor. General Waldo, had descended to her, which he by subsequent pur- chase increased till it comprised the whole W aldo Patent, an extent of thirty miles square, and embracing a considera- ble part of that section of Maine, which now constitutes the counties of Lincoln, Hancock and Penobscot. To these estates he retired from all concern in public life, hon- ored as a soldier and beloved as a man, devoting much of his time to their settlement and improvement. H'^ was in- duced repeatedly to take a share in the government of the state, both in the house of representatives and in the coun- cil, in the discharge of whose several duties, he employed his wisdom and experience with the greatest assiduity. In 1798, when the French insults and injuries towards this country called for resistance, he was one of those se- lected to command our armies, and to protect our liberty and honor, from the expected hostilities of the French Di- rectory : happily for our country their services were not re- quired. Retired from the theatre of active life, he still felt a deep interest in the prosperity of his country. To that portion of it, which he had chosen for his residence, his exertions were more immediately directed. His views like his soul, were bold and magnificent ; his ardent mind could not wait the ordinary course of time and events ; it outstripped the progress of natural improvement. Had he possessed a cold, calculating mind, he might have left behind him the most ample wealth ; but he would not have been more * President Adams. KNOX. 231 highly vahiod by his country, or more beloved by his friends. He died, at MontpeUer, his seat in Thomaston, 25th of Oc- tober, 18U6, from sudden internal inflammation, at the age of 5G, from the full vigor of health. The great qualities of Gen. Knox, were not merely those of tjie hero and the statesman ; with these were combined those of the elegant scholar, and the accomplished gentle- n^A\. There have been some as brave and as learned, but rarely a union of such valor, with so much urbanity — a mind so great, yet so free from ostentation. Philanthrophy filled his heart ; in his benevolence there was no reserve — it was as ditfusive as the "lobe, and exten- sive as the family of man. His feelings were strong and ex- quisitely tender, [n the domestic circle they shone with peculiar lustre — here, the husband, the father and the friend, beamed in every smile — and if at any time a cloud over- shadowed his own spirit, he strove to prevent its influence from extending to those who were dear to him. He was frank, generous and sincere, and in his intercourse with the world, uniformly just. His house was the seat of elegant hospitality, and his estimate of wealth, was its power of dif- fusing happiness. To the testimony of private friendship, may be added that of less parti iil strangers, who have borne witness, both to his public and private virtues. Lord Moi- ra, who is now perhaps the greatest general that England can boast of, has in a late publication spoken in high terms of his military talents. Nor should the opinion of the Mar- quis Chattelleux be omitted. " As for Gen. Knox," he says, " to praise him for his military talents alone, would be to deprive him of half the eulogium he merits; a man of un- derstanding, w^ell informed, gay, sincere and honest — it is impossible to know without esteeming him, or to see with- out loving him, — thus have the English without intention, added to the ornaments of the human species, by awaken- ing talents where they least wished or expected." Judge Marshall also, in his life of Washington, tJuis speaks of him, "throughout the contest of the revolution, this officer had continued at tlie head of the American artillery, and from being colonel of a regiment, had been promoted to the rank of inajor general. In this important station he had preserv- ed a high military character, and on the resignation of Gen. Lincoln, had been appointed secretary of war. To hi& great services, and to unquestionable integrity, he was admitted to unite a sound understanding ; and the public judgment. 232 LINCOLN. as well as that of the chief magistrate, pronounced him in all respects competent to the station he tilled. The president was highly gratified in believing that his public duty comport- ed with his private inclination, in nominating General Knox to the office which had been conferred on him under the former government." Major-General in the American Army. " General Lincoln deserves a high rank in the fraterni- ty of American heroes. He was born in Hingham, Massa- chusetts, January 23d, O. S. 1733. His early education was not auspicious to his future eminence, and his vocation Avas that of a farmer, till he was more than forty years of age, though he was commissioned as a magistrate, and elected a representative in the state legislature. In the year 1776, he sustained the office of lieutenant colonel of militia. In 1776 he was appointed by the counsel of Massachusetts a briga- dier, and soon after a major general, and he applied himself assiduously to training, and preparing the militia for actual service in the field, in which he displayed the military talent which he possessed. In October, he marched with a body of militia and joined the main army at New-York. The commander in chief, from a knowledge of his character and merit, recommended him to congress as an excellent officer, and in February, 1777, he was by that honorable body, crea- ted a major general on the continental establishment. For several months he commanded a division, or detachments in the main army, under Washington, and was in situations which required the exercise of the utmost vigilance and i'aution, as well as firmness and courage. Having the com- mand of about five hundred men in an exposed situation near Bound Brook, through the neglect of his patroles, a krge body of the enemy approached within two hundred yards of his quarters undiscovered ; the general had scarcely time to mount and leave the house before it was surrounded. He led off his troops however, in the face of the enemy, and made good his retreat, though v. ith the loss of about sixty men killed and wounded. One of his aids, with the gener- al's baggage and papers, fell into the hands of the enemy, as LINCOLN. 235 did tlso tkree small pieces of artillery. In July, 1777,Geii> eral W'asliington selected liim to join the northern army un- der the command of General (rates, lO oppose the advance of General Burgoyne. He took his station at Manchester, in Vermont, to receive and form the New-England militia, as thev arrived, and to order their march to the rear of the British army. lie detached Colonel Brown, with five hun- dred men, on the 1 3th of September, to the landing at Lake George, v»liere he succeeded in surprising the enemy, and took possession of two hundred batteaux, liberated one hun- dred xVmerican prisoners, and captured two hundred and iiiiK'ty-three of tiie enemy, with the loss of only tlirec killed and five v%ounded. This enterprise was of tiic liighest im- portance, and contributed essentially to the glorious event which followed. Having detached two other parties to the enemy's posts at Mount Independence and Skenesborough, Creneral Lincoln united his remaining force with the army Tmder General Gates, and was the second in command During the sanguinary conflict on the 7th of October, Gen- eral Lincoln commanded within our lines, and at one o'clock the next morning, he marched with his division to relieve the troops that had been engaged, and to occupy the battle ground, the enemy having retreated. VVlule on this duty he had occasion to ride forward some distance, to reconnoi- tre, and to order some disposition of his own troops, when a party of the enemy made an unexpected movement, and he approached within musket shot before he was aware of his mistak(.\ A whole volley of musketry was instantly dischar- ged at him and his aids, and he received a wound by whicli the bone;a of his leg were badly fractured, and he was obli- ged to be carried off the field. The wound was a formida- ble one, and the loss of his limb was for some time appre- hended. He was for several months confined at Albany, and it became necessary to remove a considerable portion of the main bone before he was conveyed to his house at Hingliam, and under this painful surgical operation, the wri- ter of this being present, witnessed in him a degree of firm- ness and patience not to be exceeded. ' I have known him,' says Colonel Rice, who was a member of his military family, ' during the most painful operation by the surgeon, while bystanders were frequently obliged to leave the room, entertain us with some pleasant anecdote, or story, and draw forth a smile from his friends.' His wound continued sev- eral years in an ulcerated state, and by the loss of the bone 20* 234 LL^COLN. the limb was shortened, which occasioned lameness durincf the remainder of his life. General Lincoln certainly affbfded very important as- sistance in the capture of Bm*goyiie, though it was his un- fortunate lot, while in active duty, to be disabled before he could participate in the capitulation. Though his recovery was not complete, he repaired to head-quarters in the fol- lowing August, and was joyfully received by the command- er in chief, who well knew how to appreciate his merit. It was from a developement of his estimable character as a man, and his talent as a military commander, that he was designated by congress for the arduous duties of the chief command in the southern department, under innumerable embarrassments. On his arrival at Charleston, December, 1778, he found that he had to form an army, to provide sup- plies, and to arrange the various departments, that he might be able to cope with an enemy consisting of experienced officers and veteran troops. This, it is obvious, required a man of superior powers, indefatigable perseverance, and unconquerable energy. Had not these been his inherent qualities, Lincoln must have yielded to the formidable ob- stacles which opposed his progress. About the 28th of De- cember, General Prevost arrived with a fleet, and about three thousand British troops, and took possession of Savannah, after routing a small party of Americans, under General Robert Howe. General Lincoln, immediately put his troops in motion, and took post on the eastern side of the river, about twenty miles from the city ; bat he was not in force to commence offensive operations, till the last of Feb- ruary. In April, with the view of covering the upper part of Georgia, he marched to Augusta, after which Prevost, the British commander, crossed th.* river into Carolina and marched for Charleston. General Lincoln, therefore, re- crossed the Savannah, and followed his route, and on his ar- rival near the city, the enemy had retired from before it during the previous night. A detachment of the enemy, supposed to be about six hundred men, under Lieutenant Colonel Maitland, being posted at Stone Ferry, where they had erected works for their defence. General Lincoln re- solved to attack them, which he did on the 9th of June. The contest lasted one hour and twenty minutes, in which lie lost one hundred and sixty men killed and wounded, and the enemy suffered about an equal loss. Their works were found to be much stronger than had been represented, and LINCOLN. 235 our artillery proving too light to annoy them, and the enemy receiving a reinforcement, our troops were obliged to re- tire. The next event of importance which occurred with our general, was the bold assault on Savannah, in conjunction with the Count D'Estaing, General Prevost had again possessed himself of that city, and Count D'Estaing, ar- rived with his fleet and armament in the beginning of Sep- tember, 1779. Having landed nearly three thousand French troops, General Lincoln immediately united about one thousand men to his force. The prospect of success was highly flattering, but the enemy exerted all their efforts in strengthening their lines, and after the count had sum- moned the garrison, and while Prevost was about to ar- range articles of capitulation, he received a reinforcement. It was now resolved to attempt the place by a regular siege, but various causes occasioned a delay of several days, and when it commenced, the cannonade and bombardment failed of producing the desired effect, and the short time allowed the count on our coast, was quite insufficient for reducing the garrison by regular approaches. The commanders concluded therefore, to make an effort on the works by as- sault: On the 9th of October, in the morning, the troops were led on by D'Estaing, and Lincoln, united, while a column led by Count Dillon missed their route in the dark- ness, and failed of the intended co-operation. Amidst a most appalling fire of the covered enemy, the allied troops forced the abbatis, and planted two standards on the para- pets. But being overpowered at the point of attack, they were compelled to retire ; the French having seven hun- dred, the Americans two hundred and forty killed and wounded. The Count Pulaski, at the head of a body of our horse, was mortally wounded. General Lincoln next repaired to Charleston, and en- deavored to put that city in a posture of defence, urgently requesting of congress a reinforcement of regular troops, and additional supplies, which were but partially complied with. In February, 1780, General Sir Henry Chnton arri- ved, and landed a formidable force in the vicinity, and on the 30th of March encamped in front of the American lines at Charleston. Considering the vast superiority of the ene- my, both in sea and land forces, it might be questioned whether prudence and correct judgment, would dictate an attempt to defend the city ; it will not be supposed however, £36 LINCOLN. that the determmation was formed without the most mature deliberation, and for reasons perfectly justifiable. It is well known that the general was in continual expectation of an augmentation of strength by reinforcements. On the 10th of April, the enemy having made some advances, summoned the garrison to an unconditional surrender, v»hich was promptly refused. A heavy and incessant cannonade was sustained on each side, till the 11th of May, when the be- siegers had completed their third parallel line, and having made a second demand of surrender, a capitulation was agreed on. It is to be lamented that, vvith all tlie judicious and vigor-. ous etibrts in his power, General Lincohi was requited only by the frowns of fortune, wjiereas had he been successful in his bold enterprib'e and views, lie would have been crowned with unfadins hiurels. Butnotwithstandinfj a series of dis- appointments and unfortunate occurrences, he was censur- ed by no one, nor was his judgment or merit called in ques- ?ion. lie retained his popularity, and the confidence of the army, and was considered as a most zealous patriot, and \he bravest of soldiers. In the campaign of 1781, General Lincoln commanded a division under Washington, and at the siege of Yorktown he had his full share of the honor of that brilliant and auspi- cious event. The articles of capitulation stipulated for the same honor in favor of the surrendering army, as had been granted to the garrison of Charleston. General Lincoln was appointed to conduct them to the held where their arms were deposited and received the customary submis- sion. In the general order of the commander in chief the day after the capitulation, General Lincoln was among the general officers whose services were particularly mentioned. In October, 1781, he was chosen by congress secretary of war, retaining his rank in the army. In this office he con- tinued till October, 1783, when his proffered resignation was accepted by congress. Having relinquished the duties and cares of a public em- ployment, he retired and devoted his attention to his farm ; but in 1784, he was chosen one of the commissioners and agents on the part of the state to make and execute a trea- ty with the Penobscot Indians. W hen in tiie year 1786 — 7, the authority of our state government was in a manner pros- trated, and the country alarmed by a most audacious spirit of insurrection, under the guidance of Shays and I)^y, LINCOLN. 237 Oeneral Lincoln was appointed by the governor and coun- cil, to command a detachment of militia, consisting of four or five thousand men, to oppose their progress, and compel them to a submission to the laws. He marched from Bos- ton on the 20th of January, into the counties of Worcester, Hampshire, and Berkshire, where the insurgents had erect- ed their standard. They were embodied in considerable force, and manifested a determined resistance, and a slight skirmish ensued between them and a party of militia under General Shepherd. Lincoln however, conducted with such address and energy, that the insurgents were routed from one town to another, till they were completely dispersed in all directions ; and by his wise and prudent measures the insurrection was happily suppressed without bloodshed, ex- cepting a few individuals who were slain under Gen. Shep- herd's command. He was a member of the convention for ratifying the fed- eral constitution, and in the summer of 1789, he received from President Washington the appointment of collector of the port of Boston, which office he sustained till being ad- monished by the increasing infirmities of age, he requested permission to resign. Having after his resignation of the office of collector pas- sed about two years in retirement, and in tranquillity of mind, but experiencing the feebleness of age, he received a short attack of disease by which his honorable life was ter- minated on the 9th of May, 1810, aged 77 years. The following tribute is on the records of the society of Cincinnati. '• At tlie annual meeting in July, 1810, Major General John Brooks was chosen president of the society, to supply the place of our venerable and much lamented president, General Benjamin Lincoln, who had presided over the society from the organization thereof, in 1783, to the 9th of May, 1810, the day of his decease, with the en- tire approbation of every member, and the grateful tribute of his surviving comrades, for his happy guidance and af- fectionate attentions during so long a period." While at Purysburgh, on the Savannah River, a soldier named Fickling, liaving been detected in frequent attempts to desert, was tried and sentenced to be hanged. Tiie gen- eral ordered the execution. The rope broke ; a second was procured which broke also ; the case was reported to the general for directions. "Let him run," said the general, " I thought he looked like a scape-gallows " 238 LINCOLN. Major Garden, in his Anecdotes of the American Revolu- (ion, relates this story with some addition. It happened that, as Fickling was led to execution, the surgeon-general of the army passed accidentally, on his way to his quarters, which were at some distance. When the second rope was procured, the adjutant of the regiment, a stout and heavy man, assayed by every means to break it, but without effect. Fickling was then haltered, and again turned oft', when, to the astonishment of the bystanders, the rope untwisted, and he fell a second time uninjured to the ground. A cry for mercy was now general throughout the ranks, which occa- sioned Major Ladson, aid-de-camp to General Lincoln, to gallop to head-quarters, to make a representation of facts, which were no sooner stated, than an immediate pardon was granted, accompanied with an order that he should in- stantaneously be drummed, with every mark of infamy, out of camp, and threatened with instant death if he ever should be found attempting to approach it. In the interim, the surgeon-general had established himself at his quarters, in a distant barn, little doubting but that the catastrophe was at an end, and Fickling quietly resting in his grave. Midnight was at hand, and he was busily engaged in writing, when, hearing the approach of a footstep, he raised his eyes, and saw with astonishment the figure of the man, who had in his opinion been executed, slowly and with haggard countenance, approaching towards him. "How! how is this '{"^exclaimed the doctor, "whence come you ? what do you want with me ? were you not hanged this morning ?" 'Yes, sir," replied the resuscitated man, "I am the wretch you saw croinor to the jiallows, and who was handed." " Keep your distance," said the doctor, " approach me not, till you say why you came here." " Simply, sir," said the supposed spectre, " to solicit food. I am no ghost, doctor. The rope broke twice, while the executioner was doing his oflice, and the general thought proper to pardon me." " If that be the case," rt^oined the doctor, " eat and be wel- come ; but I beg of you in future to have a little more con- sideration, and not intrude so unceremoniously into the apartment of one, who had every right to suppose you an inhabitant of the tomb."* * Thacher's Military Journal. LEE. !^39 CHARZiES ZiEZ;, Major-General in the American Ann}'. Gen. Lee was an original genius, possessing the most brilliant talents, great military prowess, and extensive intel- ligence and knowledge of the world. He was born in Wales, his family springing from the same parent stock with the Earl of Leicester. He may be properly called a child of Mars, for he was an officer when but eleven years old. His favorite study w^as the science of war, and his warmest wish was to become distinguished in it ; but though possessed of a military spirit, he was ardent in the pursuit of general knowledge. He ac- quired a competent skill in Greek and Latin, while his fond- ness for travelling made him acquainted with the Italian, Spanish, German and French languages. In 175G, he came to America, captain of a company of grenadiers, and was present at the defeat of Gen. Abercom- bie, at Ticonderoga, where he received a severe wound. In 1762, he bore a colonel's commission, and served under Burg03^nein Portugal, where he greatly distinguished him- H^elf, and received the strongest recommendations for his gallantry ; but his early attachment to the American colo- nies, evinced in liis writings against the oppressive acts of parliament, lost him the favor of the ministry. Despairing * of promotion, and despising a life of inactivity, he left his native soil and entered into the service of his Polish majes- ty, as one of his aids, with the rank of major-general. His rambling disposition led him to travel all over Eu- rope, during the years of 1771, 1772 and part of 1773, and his warmth of temper drew him into several rencounters, ' among which w^as an affair of honor with an officer in Italy. The contest was begun with swords, when the general lost two of his fingers. Recourse was then had to pistols. His ad- versary was slain, and he was obliged to flee from the coun- try, in order that he might avoid the unpleasant circumstan- ces which might result from this unhappy circumstance. Gen. Lee appeared to be influenced by an innate princi- ple of republicanism ; an .ittachment to these principles was implanted in the constitution of his mind, and he espoused the cause of America as a champion of her emancipation from oppression. Glowing with these sentiments, he embarked for this 240 LEE. ^ country, and arrived at New-York, on the 10th of November 1773. On his arrival, he became daily more enthusiastic in the cause of liberty, and travelled rapidly through the colonies, animating, both by conversation and his eloquent pen, to a determined and persevering resistance to British tyramiy. His enthusiasm in favor of the rights of the colonies was such, that, after tlie battle of Lexington, he accepted a ma- jor-general's commission in the American army ; though his ambition had pointed out to him the post of commander in chief, as the object of his wishes. Previous to this, howev- er, he resigned his commission in the British service, and relinquished his half pay. This he did in a letter to the British secretary at war, in which he expressed his disap- probation of the oppressive measures of parliament, declar- ing them to be so absolutely subversive of the rights and lib- erties of every individual subject, so destructive to the whole empire at large, and ultimately, so ruinous to his majesty's own person, dignity and family, that he thought himself obli- ged in conscience, as a citizen. Englishman, and a soldier of a free state, to exert his utmost to defeat them." Immediately upon receiving his appointment, he accom- panied General Washington to the camp at Cambridge, where he arrived July 2d, 1775, and was received with eve- ry mark of respect. As soon as it was discovered at Cambridge that the Bri- tish General Clinton had left Boston, General Lee was or- dered to set forward, to observe his manoeuvres, and pre- pare to meet him in any part of the continent he might visit. No man was better qualified, at this early stage of the war, to penetrate the designs of the enemy, than Lee. Nursed in the camp, and well versed in European tactics, the sol- diers believed him, of all other officers, the best able to face in the field an experienced British veteran, and lead them on to victory. New-York was supposed to be the object of the enemy, and hither he hastened with all possible expedition. Im- mediately, on his arrival, Lee took the most active and prompt measures, to put it in a state of defence. He dis- armed all suspected persons, within the reach of his com- mand, and proceeded with such rigor against the tories, as to give alarm at his assumption of military powers. From the tories he exacted a strong oath, and Ixis bold measures carried terror wherever he appeared. LEE. m •• Not long after, he was appointed to the command of tHe southern department, and in his travels through the country, he received every testimony of high respect from the people. General Sir Henry Clinton, and Sir Peter Par- ker, with a powerful fleet and army, attempted the reduc- tion of Charleston, while he was in command. The fleet anchored within half musket shot of the fort on Sulhvan's Island ; where Colonel Moultrie, one ef the bravest and most intrepid of men, commanded. A tremendous en- gagement ensued on the 28th of June, 1776, which lasted twelve hours without intermission. The whole British force was completely repulsed, after suffering an irreparable toss. Gen. Lee and Col. Moultrie received the thanks of Con« gress for their signal bravery and gallantry. Our hero had now reached the pinnacle of his military glory ; the eclat of his name alone appeared to enchant and animate the most desponding heart. But here we pause to contemplate the humiliating reverse of human events. He returned to the main army in October ; and in march- ing at the head of a large detachment through the Jerseys, having, from a desire of retaining a separate command, de- layed his march several days, in disobedience of express or- ders from the commander in chief, he was guilty of the most culpable neghgence in regard to his personal security. He took up his quarters two or three miles from the main body, and lay for the night, December 13th, 1776, in a careless, exposed situation. Information of this being communica* ted to Colonel Harcourt, who commanded the British hght- horse, he proceeded immediately to the house, fired into it, and obliged the general to surrender himself a prisoner. They mounted him on a horse in haste, without his cloak or hat, and conveyed him in triumph to New- York."* Lee was treated, while a prisoner, with great severity by the enemy, who afi^ected to consider him as a state prisoner and deserter from the service of his Britanic majesty, and denied the privileges of an American officer. General Washington promptly retaliated the treatment received by Lee upon the British officers in his possession. This state of things existed until the capture of Burgoyne, when a com- plete change of treatment was observed towards Lee ; anU he was shortly afterwards exchanged. *Thacher's Military Journal. 21 t4^ LEE. The first military act of General Lee, after kis exchange., closed his career in the American army. Previous to the battle of Monmouth, his character in general was respecta- ble. From the beginning of the contest, his unremitted zeal in the cause of America excited and directed the mil- itary spirit of the whole continent ; and his conversation in- culcated the principles of liberty among all ranks of the people. His important services excited the warm gratitude of many of the friends of America. Hence it is said that a strong party was formed in Congress, and by some discon- tented officers in the army, to raise Lee to the first com- mand : and it has been suggested by many, that General Lee's conduct at the battle of Monmouth was intended to effect this plan : for could the odium of the defeat have been at this time thrown on General Washington, there is great reason to suppose that he would have been deprived of his command. It is now to be seen how General Lee terminated his mili- tary career. In the battle of Monmouth, on the 28th of June, 1778, he commanded the van of the American troops, with orders from the commander in chief to attack the re- treating enemy. Instead of obeying this order, he conduct- ed in an unworthy manner, and greatly disconcerted the ar- I'angements of the day. Washington, advancing to the field of battle, met him in his disorderly retreat, and accost- ed him with strong expressions of disapprobation. Lee, Incapable of brooking even an implied indignity, and unable to restrain the warmth of his resentment, used improper language in return, and some irritation was excited on both sides. The following letters immediately after passed be- tween Lee and the commander in chief Camp, English Totson, 1st July, 177B. Sir, From the knowledge that I have of your Excellency's character, I must conclude that nothing but the misinform- ation of some very stupid, or misrepresentation of some very wicked person, could have occasioned your making use of such very singular expressions as you did, on my coming up to the ground where you had taken post : they implied that I was guilty either of disobedience of orders, want of con- duct, or want of courage. Your Excellency will, therefore ifttttitely oblige me, by letting me kmow on which of these LEE. 243 three articles you ground your charge, that I may prepare for my justification ; which I have the happiness to be coil- fident I can do, to the army, to the congress, to America, and to the world in general. Your Excellency must give me leave to observe, that neither yourself, nor those about your person, could, from your situation, be in the least judges of the merits or demerits of our manoeuvres ; and, to speak with a becoming pride, I can assert that to these manoeuvres the success of the day was entirely owing. I can boldly say, that, had we remained on the first ground — ■ or had we advanced — or had the retreat been conducted in a manner different from what it was, this whole army and the interests of America, would have risked being sacrificed. I ever had, and I hope, ever shall have, the greatest respect and veneration for General Washington ; I think him endu- ed with many great and good qualities : but in this instance 1 1 must pronounce, that he has been guilty of an act of cruel injustice towards a man, who had certEunly some pretensions to the regard of every servant of his country ; and I think, Sir, I have a right to demand some reparation for the injury committed ; and unless I can obtain it, I must, in justice to myself, when the campaign is closed, which I believe will close the war, retire from a service, at the head of which is placed a man capable of offering such injuries ; — but at the same time, in justice to you, I must repeat that I, from my soul, believe that it was not a motion of your own breast, but instigated by some of those dirty earwigs, who will for ever insinuate themselves near persons in high office ; for I am really assured that, when General Washington acts from himself, no man in his army will have reason to complain of injustice and indecorum. I am, sir, and I hope ever shall have reason to continue> Yours, &/C, CHARLES LEE. His Excellency Gen. Washington. Head-Quarters, English-Town^ 22>th June, 1778. Sir, I received your letter, dated through mistake the 1st of July, expressed, as I conceive, in terms highly improper. I am not conscious of having made use of any singular ex- pressions at the time of my meeting you, as you intimate What I recollect to have said was dictated by duty, and war* t44 LEE. ranted by the occasion. As soon as circumstances will adr mit, you shall have an opportunity, either of justifying" yourself to the army, to congress, to America, and to the world in general, or of convincing them that you are guilty of a breach of orders, and of misbehavior before the enemy on the 28th instant in not attacking them as you had been directed, and in making an unnecessary, disorderly, and sliameful retreat. I am, sir, your most obedient servant, G. WASHINGTON. A court martial, of which Lord Stirling was president, wafc ordered for his trial, and after a masterly defence by Gen, Lee, found him guilty of all the charges, and sentenced him to be suspended from any command in the army for the term of twelve months. This sentence was shortly afterward.*^ confirmed by congress. When promulgated, it was like a mortal wound to the lofty aspiring spirit of General Lee ; pointing to his dog he exclaimed — " Oh that I was that animal that I might not call man my brother." He became outrageous, and from that moment he was more open and virulent in his attack on the character of the commander in chief, and did not cease in his unwearied endeavors both in his conversation and wri» tings to lessen his reputation in the estimation of the army, and the pubhc. He was an active abettor of General Con- way in his calumny and abuse of General Washington, and they were beheved to be in concert in their vile attempts to supersede his excellency in the supreme command. With the hope of affecting his nefarious purpose, he pubUshed a pamphlet replete with scurrilous imputations unfavorable to the military talents of the commander in chief, but this with his other malignant allegations were consigned to contempt. At length Colonel Laurens, one of Gen. Washington's aids, unable longer to sufter this gross abuse of his illustri- ous friend demanded of Lee that satisfaction which custom has sanctioned as honorable. A recounter accordingly en- sued, and Lee received a wound in his side. Lee now finding himself abandoned by his friends, degra- ded in the eye of the public, and despised by the wise and virtuous, retired to his sequestered plantation in Virginia. In this spot, secluded from all society, he lived in a sort of hov- el without glass windows or plastering, or even a decent ar» £EE. 24b f icle ot house furniture ; here he amused himself with his books and dogs. On January 10th, 1780, congress resolv- ed that Major-Gen, Lee be informed that they have no fur- ther occasion for his services in the army of the U. States, In the autumn of 1782, wearied with his forlorn situation, and broken spirit, he resorted to Philadelphia, and took lodgings in an ordinary tavern. He was soon seized with a disease of the lungs, and after a few days' confinement, he terminated his mortal course, a martyr to chagrin and disap- pointment, October 2d, 1782. The last words which he was heard to utter, were, " stand by me my brave grena- diers." Gen. Lee was rather above the middle size, " plain in his person even to ugliness, and careless in his manners even to a degree of rudeness ; his nose was so remarkably aqui- line, that it appeared as a real deformity. His voice was rough, his garb ordinary, his deportment morose. He was ambitious of fame without the dignity to support it. In pri- vate life he sunk into the vulgarity of the clown." His re- markable partiality for dogs was such, that a number of these animals constantly followed in his train, and the ladies complained that he allowed his canine adherents to follow him into the parlor, and not frequently a favorite one might be seen on a chair next his elbow at table. In the year 1776, when our army lay at White Plains, Lee resided near the road which General Washington frequent- ly passed, and lie one day with his aids called and took din- ner : after they had departed Lee said to his aids, " you must look me out other quarters or I shall have Washington and his puppies calling till they eat me up." The next day he ordered his servant to write with chalk on the door, " no victuals cooked here to day." The company, seeing the Iiint on the door, passed with a smile at the oddity of the man. . "The character of this person," says one who knew him well, " is full of absurdities and quahties of a most ex- traordinary nature."* While in Philadelphia, shortly before his death, the fol^ lowing ludicrous circumstance took place, which created no small diversion. The late Judge Brackenridge, whose poignancy of satire and eccentricity of character was nearly a match for that pt *Thachcr's Journal. 21* 246 LEE. the general, had dipped his pen in some gall, which greatly irritated Lee's feelings, insomuch, tiiat he challenged him to single combat; which Brackenridge declined in a very eccentric reply. Lee, having furnished himself wdth a horse-whip, determined to chastise him ignominiously on the very first opportunity. Observing Brackenridge going down Market-Street, a few days after, he gave him chase, and Brackenridge took refuge in a public house, and barri- caded the door of the room he entered. A number of persons collected to see the result. Lee damned him, and invited him to come out and fight him like a man. Brackenridge replied, that he did not like to be shot at, and made some other cu- rious observations, which only increased Lee's irritation and the mirth of the spectators. Lee, with the most bitter im- precation, ordered liim to come out, when he said he would horse-whip him. — Brackenridge replied, that he had no oc- casion for a discipline of that kind. The amusing scene lasted some time, until at length Lee, finding that he could accomplish no other object than calling forth Brackenridge's wit for the amusement of the by-standers, retired. General Lee was master of a most genteel address, but was rude in his manners, and excessively negligent in his appearance and behaviour. His appetite was so whimsical, that he was every where a most troublesome guest. Two or three dogs usually follovv ed him wherever he went. As an ofiicer, he was brave and able, and did much towards dis- ciplining the American army. With vigorous powers of mind and brilliant fancy, he was a correct and elegant clas- sical scholar, and he both wrote and spoke his native lan- guage with propriety, force and beauty. His temper was severe ; the history of his life is little else than the history of disputes, quarrels and duels in every part of the world. He was vindictive, avaricious, immoral, impious and profane. His principles, as would be expected from his character, were most abandoned, and he ridiculed every tenet of reli- gion. — Two virtues he possessed to an eminent degree, sin- cerity and veracity. It was notorious that General Lee was a man of unbounded personal ambition, and conscious of his European education, and pre-eminent military tal- ents and powers, he affected s superiority over Gen. Wash- ington, and constantly aimed at the supreme Command, lit- tle scrupulous as to the means employed to accomphsh his own advancement. The following is an extract from Gen. Lee's m\L — MARION. 247 " I desire most earnestly that I may not be buried in any church or church-yard, or within a mile of any Presbyterian, or Ana-baptist Meeting House, for since I have resided in this country, I have kept so much bad company while living, that I do not choose to continue it while dead." FHAZTCIS ItXABICIT, Colonel in the American Army. Francis Marion, colonel in the regular service, and brig- adier general in the militia of South-Carolina, was born in the vicinity of Georgetown, in the year 1733. To pourtray the meteor-like course of hardihood and ex- ploit, traced by Gen. Marion and his heroic followers, would constitute a picture, rich in admiration and delight, to the lovers of bravery and romantic adventure. Never was an of- ficer better suited to the times in which he lived, and the sit- uation in which it was his fortune to act. For stratagems^ unlooked for enterprises against the enemy, and devices for concealing his own position and movements, he had no rival. Never, in a single instance, was he overtaken in his course, or discovered in his hiding place. Even some of his party, anxious for his safety, and well acquainted with many of the places of his retreat, have sought for him whole days in his immediate neighborhood, without finding him. Suddenly and unexpectedly, in some distant point he would again ap- pear, pouncing upon his enemy like the eagle upon his prey. These high and rare qualities, conducted him repeatedly in- to the arms of victory, when the force he encountered was ten fold the number of that he commanded. " Young Marion at the age of sixteen, entered on board a vessel bound to the West Indies, with a determination to fit himself for a seafaring life. On his outward passage, the vessel was upset in a gale of wind, when the crew took to their boat without water or provisions, it being impracticable to save any of either. A dog jumped into the boat with the crew, and upon his flesh, eaten raw, did the survivors of these unfortunate men subsist for seven or eight days ; in which period several died of hunger. Among the few who escaped was young Marion. After reaching land, Marion relin(iuished his original plan of life, 24B MARION. and engaged in the labors of agriculture. In this occupation he continued until 1769, when he became a soldier, and was appointed a lieutenant in a company of volunteers, raised for an expedition against the Cherokee Indians, com- manded by Captain Wilham Moultrie, (since General Moul- trie.) As soon as the war broke out between the colonies and the mother country, Marion was called to the command of a com- pany in the first corps raised by the state of South-Carolina. He was soon afterwards promoted to a majority, and served in that rank under Colonel Moultrie, in his intrepid defence of Fort Moultrie, against the combined attack of Sir Henry Clinton and Sir H. Parker, on the 2d of June, 1776. He was afterwards placed at the head of a regiment, as lieu-- tenant colonel commandant, in which capacity he served during the siege of Charleston ; when having fractured his leg by some accident, he became incapable of military duty, and fortunately for his country, escaped the captivity to which the garrison was, in the sequel, forced to submit. When Charleston fell into the enemy's hands, Lieutenant Colonel Marion abandoned his state, and took shelter in North Carolina. The moment he recovered from the frac- ture of his leg, he engaged in preparing the means ofannoy- mg the enemy, then in the flood-tide of prosperity. With .sixteen men only, he crossed the Santee, and commenced that daring system of warfare which so much annoyed the British army. Colonel Peter Horry, in his life of General Marion, give.^' the following interesting incident : — " About this time we received a flag from the enemy in Georgetown, South-Caro- lina, the object of which was to make some arrangements about the exchange of prisoners. The flag, after the usual ceremony of blindfolding, was conducted into Marion's en- campment. Having heard great talk about General Mari- on, his fancy had naturally enough sketched out for him some stout figure of a warrior, such as O'Hara, or Comwal- lis himself, of martial aspect and flaming regimentals. But what was his surprise, when led into Marion's presence, and the bandage taken from his eyes, he beheld in our hero, a swarthy smoke-dried little man, with scarcely enough of thread-bare homespun to cover his nakedness ! and, instead of tall ranks of gay-dressed soldiers, a handful of sun-burnt, yellow-legged militia-men; some roasting potatoes, and some asleep, with their black fire-locks and powder-horns ly- MARION. 249 ing by them on the logs. Having recovered a little from hib' surprise, he presented his letter to General Marion, who p€' rused it and soon settled every thing to his satisfaction. The officer took up his hat to retire. " Oh no !'' said Marion, " it is aow about our time of di- ning ; and I hope sir, you will give us the pleasure of yoiif company to dinner." At the mention of the word dinner, the British officer looked around him, but to his great mortification, could see no sign of a pot, pan, Dutch-oven, or any other cooking utensil, that could raise the spirits of a hungry man. " Well Tom," said the general to one of his men, " come, give us o%r dinner." The dinner to which he alluded, was no other than a heap of sweet potatoes, that were very snugly roasting under the embers, and which Tom, with his pine stick poker, soon lib- erated from their ashy confinement ; pinching them, every now and then with his fingers, especially the big ones, to see whether they were well done or not. Then having cleansed them of the ashes, partly by blowing them with his breathy and partly by brushing them with the sleeve of his old cotton shirt, he piled some of the best on a large piece of bark, and placed them between the British officer and Marion, on the trunk of the fallen pine on which they sat. ti " I fear, sir," said the general, " our dinner will not prove so palatable to you as I could wish ; but it is the best w^e have." The officer, who was a well bred man, took up one of the potatoes and affected to feed, as if he had found a great dain- ty ; but it was very plain that he ate more from good man- ners than good appetite. Presently he broke out in a hearty laugh. — Marion looked surprised. " I beg your pardon, general," said he, " but one cannot, you know, always command one's conceits. I was thinking how drolly some of my brother officers would look, if our government were to give them such a bill of fare as this." " I suppose," replied Marion, " it is not equal to their style of dining." '' No, indeed," quoth the officer, " and this, I imagine, is one of your accidental Lent dinners . a sort of ban-yan. In. general, no doubt, you live a great deal better." " Rather worse," answered the general, " for often we don't get enough of this." ^50 MARION. "Heavens!" rejoined the officer, "but probably wJiat you lose in meal you make up in malt, though stinted in pro- visions, you draw noble pay," ♦' JVot a cent, sir," said Marion, " not a cent." •' Heavens and earth ! then you must be in a bad box. I don't see, general how you can stand it." " Why, sir," replied Marion, with a smile of self-approba- tion, " these things depend on feeling." The Englishman said, " he did not believe it would be an easy matter to reconcile his feelings to a soldier's^ life on gen- eral Marion's terms : all Jlghting, no pay, and no provisions but potatoes." ' Why, sir,' answered the general, ' the heart i^all ; and when that is much interested, a man can do any thing. Ma- ny a youth M^ould think it hard to indent himself a slave for fourteen years. But let him be over head and ears in love, and with such a beauteous sweetheart as Rachel, and he will think no more of fourteen years servitude that young Ja- cob did. Well, now this is exactly my case. I am in love ; and my sweetheart is Liberty. Be that heavenly nymph my champion, and these woods shall have charms beyond London and Paris in slavery. To have no proud monarch driving over me with his gilt coaches ; nor his host of excise- men and tax-gatherers insulting and robbing ; but to be my own master, my own prince and sovereign; gloriously pre- serving my national dignity, and pursuing my true happiness , planting my vineyards, and eating their luscious fruit ; sow- mg my fields, and reaping the golden grain ; and seeing millions of brothers all around me, equally free and happy as myself: — this, sir, is what I long for.' The officer replied that, both as a man and a Briton, he must certainly subscribe to this as a happy state of things. ' Happy,' quoth Marion, ' yes, happy indeed : and I would rather fight for such blessings for my country, and feed on roots, than keep aloof, though wallowing in all the luxuries of Solomon. For now sir, I walk the soil that gave me birth , and exult in the thought that 1 am not unworthy of it. 1 look upon these venerable trees around me, and feel that I do not dishonor them. I think of my own sacred rights, and rejoice that I have not basely deserted them. And when I look forward to the long, long ages of posterity, I glory in the thought that I am fighting their battles. The children t^f distant generations may never hear my name ; but still if MARION. 25! gladdens my heart to think that I am now contending for their freedom, with all its countless blessings." I looked at MarioR as he uttered these sentiments, and fancied I felt as when I heard the last words of the brave De Kalb. The Englishrpan hung down his hones head, and looked, I thought, as if he had seen the upbraiding ghosts of/ his illustrious countrymen, Sidney and Hamden. On his return to Georgetown, he was asked by Col. Wat- son why he looked so serious 1 * I have cause, sir,' said he, * to look so serious.' ' What ! has General Marion refused to treat T ' No, sir.' ' Well, then, has old Washington defeated Sir Henry Clinton, and broke up our army V ' No, sir, ndt that neither ; but worse.' ' Ah ! what can be worse V ' Why, sir, I have seen an American general and his offi- cers, without pay, and almost without clothes, living on roots, and drinking water; and all for Liberty I ! What chance have we against such menl' It is said Colonel Watson was not much obliged to him for his speech. But the young officer was so struck with Marion's sentiments, that he never rested until he threw up his commission, and retired from the service."* " Gen. Marion, whose stature was diminutive, and his person uncommonly light, rode, when in service, one of the fleetest and most powerful chargers the south could pro- duce. When in fair pursuit, nothing could escape him, and when retreating, nothing could overtake him. Being once nearly surrounded by a party of British dra- goons, he was compelled for safety, to pass into a corn-field by leaping the fence. This field, marked with a considera- ble descent of surface, had been in part a marsh. Marion entered it at the upper side. The dragoons in chase leapt the fence also, and were but a short distance behind him. — So completely was he now in their power, that his only mode of escape was to pass over the fence on the lower side. But here lay a difficulty which to all but himself ap- peared insurmountable. To drain the ground of its superfluous waters, a trench had been cut around this part of the field, four feet wide and of the same depth. Of the mud and clay removed in * American Biographical Dictionary. 252 MORGAN. cutting it, a bank bad been formed on its inney side, and qq the top of this was erected the fence. The elevation of the whole amounted to more than seven feet perpendicular height ; a ditch four feet in width running parallel with it on the outside, and a foot or more of space intervening be- tween the fence and the ditch. The dragoons, acquainted with the nature and extent of this obstacle, and considering it impossible for their enemy to pass it, pressed towards him with loud shouts of exulta- tion ard insult, and summoned him to surrender or perish by the sword. Regardless of their rudeness and empty clamor, and inflexibly determined not to become their pris- oner, Marion spurred his horse to the charge. The noble animal, as if conscious that his master's life was in danger, and that on his exertion depended his safety, approached the barrier in his finest style, and with a bound that was al- most supernatural, cleared the fence and the ditch, and re- covered himself without injury on the opposite side. Marion now facing his pursuers, who had halted at the fence unable to pass it, discharged his pistols at them with- out eftect, and then wheeling his horse, and bidding them " good morning," with an air of triumph, dashed into an ad- joining thicket, and disappeared in an instant. Gen. Marion was a native of South Carolina ; and the immediate theatre of his exploits, was a large section of the maratime district of that state, around Georgetown. — The peculiar hardihood of his constitution, and its being accommodated to a warm climate, and a low marshy coun- try, qualified him to endure hardships and submit to expo- sures, which, in that sickly region, few other men would have been cdhipetent to sustain. He continued his undivi- ded efforts until the close of the war, and Hved to see the United States enrolled among the free and independent na- tions of the earth. DjA.XriSri IffORGAISr, Brigadier-General in the American Army. General Morgan was the creator of his own fortune. Born of poor, though honest parents, he enjoyed none of the advantages which result from wealth and early edacationv MORGAN. 253 But his was a spirit that would not tamely yield to diffi- culties. " He was born in New Jersey, where from his poverty and low condition, he had been a day-laborer. To early educa- tion and breeding therefore, he owed nothing. But, for this deficiency, his native sagacity, and sound judgment, and his intercourse with the best society, made much amends, in after life. Enterprising in his disposition, even now, he removed to Viroinia, in 1755, with a hope and expectation of improving his fortune. Here he continued, at first, his original busi- ness of day-labor ; but exchanged it, afterwards, for the em- ployment of a waggoner. His military novitiate he served in the campaign under the unfortunate Braddock. The rank he bore is not precisely known. It must, however, have been humble ; for in con- sequence of imputed contumely towards a British officer, he was brought to the halbert, and received the inhuman pun- ishment of five hundred lashes ; or, according to his own statement, of four hundred and ninety-nine ; for he always asserted that the drummer charged with the execution of the sentence, miscounted, and jocularly added, " that George the Third was still indebted to him one lash." To the honor of Morgan, he never practically remembered this savage treatment, during the revolutionary war. To- wards the British officers, whom the fortune of battle pla- ced within his power, his conduct was humane, mild and gentlemanly. After his return from this campaign, so inordinately waft he addicted to quarrels and boxing matches, that the village of Berrystown, in the county of Frederick, which constitu- ted the chief theatre of his pugihstic exploits, received, from this circumstance, the name of Battletown. In these combats, although frequently overmatched in personal strength, he manifested the same unyielding spirit, which characterised him afterwards, in his military career. When worsted by his antagonist, he would pause for a time, to recruit his strength ; and then return to the contest, again and again, until he rarely failed to prove victorious. Equally marked was his invincibility of spirit in ma- turer age, when raised, by fortune and his own merit, to a higher and more honorable field of action. Defeat in battle he rarely experienced ; but, when he did, his retreat was sullen, stern, and dangerous. 22 254 MORGAN. The commencement of the American revolution, found Mr. Morgan married, and cultivating a farm, which, by in- dustry and economy, he had been enabled to purchase, m the county of Frederick. Placed at the head of a rieflc ompany, raised in his neigh- borhood, in 1776, he marched immediately to the American head-quarters in Cambridge, near Boston. By order of the commander in chief, he soon afterwards joined in the expedition against Quebec ; and was made prisoner, in the attempt on that fortress, where Arnold was wounded, and Montgomery fell. During the assault, his daring valor and persevering gal- lantry attracted the notice and admiration of the enemy. The assaihng column, to which he belonged, was led by Major Arnold. When that officer was wounded, and carried from the ground, Morgan threw himself into the lead ; and, rushing forward, passed the first and second barriers. For a moment victory appeared certain. But the fall of Mont- gomery, closing the prospect, the assailants were repulsed, and the enterprise abandoned. During his captivity. Captain Morgan was treated with great kindness, and not a little distinction. He was repeat- edly visited, in conhnenient, by a British officer of rank, who at length made an attempt on his patriotism and virtue, by offering him the commission and emoluments of colonel in the British army, on condition that he Avould .xlesert the American, and join the royal standard. Morgan rejected the proposal with scorn ; and requested the courtly and corrupt negotiator " never again to insult him in his misfortunes, by an offer which plainly implied, that he thought him a villain." The officer withdrew, and did not again recur to the subject. On being exchanged, Morgan immediately rejoined the American army, and received, by the recommxcndation of Gen. Washington, the command of a regiment. In the year 1777, he was placed at the head of a select rifle corps, with which, in various instances, he acted on the enemy with terrible effect. His troops were considered the most dangerous in the American service. To confront them, in the field, was almost certain death to the British officers. On the occasion of the capture of Burgoyne, the exer- tions and services of Colonel Morgan, and his riflemen, were beyond all praise. Much of the glory of the achieve- ment belonged to them. Yet, so gross was the injustice of MORGAN. 265 Oeneral Gates, that he did not even mention them, in his official despatciies. His reason for this, was secret and dishonorable. Shortly after the surrender of Burgoyne, General Gates took occasion to hold with Morgan a private conversation. In the course of this, he told him, contiden- tially, that the main army was exceedingly dissatisfied with the conduct of General Washington ; that the reputation of the commander in chief was rapidly dechning ; and that several officers of great worth threatened to resign, unless a change were produced in that department Col. Morgan, fathoming, in an instant, the views of his commanding officer, sternly, and with honest indignation, replied, " Sir, T have one favor to ask. Never, again, men- tion to me this hateful subject : under no other man but Gen. VVasliington, as commander in chief, will 1 ever serve." From that moment ceased the intimacy that had previous- ly subsisted between him and Gen. Gates. A few days afterwards, the general gave a dinner to the principal officers of the British, and some of those of the American army, Morgan was not invited. In the course of the evening, that officer found it necessary to call on GeiL Gates, on official business. Being introduced into the dining-room, he spoke to the general, received his orders, and immediately withdrew, his name unannounced. Per- ceiving, from his dress, that he was of high rank, the British officers inquired his name. Being told that it was Col. Morgan, commanding the rifle corps, they rose from table, followed him into the yard, and introduced themselves to him, with many complimentary and flattering expressions, declaring that, on the day of action, they had very severely felt him in the field. In 1780, having obtained leave of absence from the army, on account of the shattered condition of his health, he retir- ed to his estate, in the county of Frederick ; and remained there until the appointment of Gen, Gates to the connnand of the southern army. Being waited on, by the latter, and requested* to accom- pany him, he reminded him, in expressions, marked by re- sentment, of the unworthy treatment he had formerly expe- rienced from him, in return for the important services, which he did not hesitate to assert, he had rendered him in his operations against the army of Gen. Burgoyne. Having received no acknowledgment, nor even civility, ibr aiding to decorate him with laurels in the north, he S66 MORGAN. frankly declared, that there were no considerations except of a public nature, that could induce him tq co-operate, in his campaigns to the south. " Motives of public good mighi influence him ; because his country had a claim on him, in any quarter, where he could promote her interest ; but per- gonal attachment must not be expected to exist, where lie had experienced nothing but neglect and injustice." Tlie two officers parted, mutually dissatisiied ; the one, on account of past treatment, the other, of the recent inter- view. In the course of a few weeks afterwards, congress having promoted Col. Morgan to the rank of brigadier-general, by brevet, with a view to avail themselves of his services in the south, he proceeded, without delay, to join the army of General Gates. But he was prevented from serving, any length of time, under that officer, by his defeat, near Cam- den, before his arrival ; and his being soon afterwards su- perseded in command by Gen. Greene."^" Soon after taking command of the southern arm.y, Gen- eral Greene despatched Gen. Morgan witli four hundred continentals, under Col. Howard, Col. Washington's corps of dragoons, and a few militia, amounting in all to about six hundred, to take position on the left of the British army, then lying at Winnsborough, under Lord Cornwallis, while he took post about seventy miles to his right. I'his judi- cious disposition excited his Lordship's apprehensions for vhe safety, of Ninety-Six and Augusta, British posts, which he considered as menaced by the movements of Morgan. Col. Tarleton, witli a strong detachment, amounting in horse and foot to near a thousand men, was immediately despatched by Cornwallis to the protection of Ninety-Six, with orders to bring Gen. Morgan, if possible, to battle. To the ardent temper and chivalrous disposition of the Brit- ish colonel, this direction was perfectly congenial. Greatly superior in numbers, he advanced on Morgan with a mena- cing aspect, and compelled him, at first, to fall back rapidly. ! But the retreat of the American commander was not long ' continued. Irritated by pursuit, reinforced by a body of .militia, and reposing great confidence in the spirit and iirm- iiess of his regular troops, he halted at the Cowpens, and I determined to gratify his adversary, in his eagerness for combat. This was on the night of the sixteenth of Jan. *Life of Gen Greene. ^ MORGAN. 257 1781. Early in the morning of the succeeding day, Tarle- ton, beiiig apprised of the situation of Morgan, pressed to- wards him with redoubled rapidity, lest, by reneAving his re- treat, he should again elude him. But Morgan now had other thoughts than those of flight. Already had he, for several days, been at war with himself in relation to his conduct. Glorying in action, his spirit re- coiled from tlie humiliation of retreat, and his resentment was roused by the insolence of pursuit. This mental con- flict becoming more intolerable to him than disaster or death, his courage triumphed perhaps over his prudence, and he resolved upon putting every thing to the hazard of the sword. By military men, who have studied the subject, his dispo- sition for battle is said to have been masterly. Two light parties of militia were advanced in front, with orders to feel the enemy as they approached ; and preserving a desultory well-aimed fire, as they fell back to the front line, to range with it and renew the conflict. The main body of the mi- litia composed this line, with Gen. Pickens at its head. At a suitable distance in the rear of the first line, a second was stationed, composed of the continental infantry and two com-, panies of Virginia mihtia, commanded by Col. Howard. — Washington's cavalry reinforced with a company of mount- ed mihtia, armed with sabres, was held in reserve. Posting himself, then, in the hue of the regulars, he wait- ed, in silence, the advance of the enemy. Tarleton, coming in sight, hastily formed his disposition for battle, and commenced the assault. Of this conflict, the following picture is from the pen of General Lee : — " The American light parties quickly yielded, fell back, and arrayed with Pickens. The enemy, shouting, rushed forward upon the front line, which retained its station, and poured in a close fire; but continuing to advance with the bayonet on our militia, they retired, and gained with haste, the second line. Here, with part of the corps, Pickens took post on Howard's right, and the rest fled to their horses, probably with orders to remove them to a further distance, Tarleton pushed forward, and was received by his adversary with unshaken firmness. The contest became obstinate ; and each party, animated by the example of its leader, nobly contended for victory. Our line maintained itself so firmly, as to oblige the enemy to order up his reserve. The ad- vance of M'Arthur reanimated the British line, which again 22* 158 MORGAN. moved forward, and, outstretching our front, endangered Col. Howard's right. This officer instantly took measures to defend his flank, by directing his right company to change its front ; but, mistaking this order, the company fell back ; upon which the line began to retire, and Gen. Morgan di- rected it to retreat to the cavalry. This manoeuvre being performed with precision, our flank became relieved, and the new^ position was assumed with promptitude. Considering this retrograde movement the precursor of flight, the British line rushed on with impetuosity and disorder ; but as it drew near, Howard faced about, and gave it a close and murder- ous fire. Stunned by this unexpected shock, the most ad- vanced of the enemy recoiled in confusion. How ard seized the happy moment, and followed his advantage with the bay- onet. This decisive step gave us the day. The reserve liaving been brouo-ht near the line, shared in the destruction of our fire, and presented no rallying point to the fugitives. A part of the enemy's cavalry, having gained our rear, fell onthat portion of the militia who had retired to their horses. Washington struck at them with his dragoons, and drove them before him. Thus, by a simultaneous eflfort, the in- fantry and cavalry of the enemy were routed. Morgan pres- sed home his success, and the pursuit became vigorous and general." " In this decisive battle we lost about seventy men, of whom twelve only were killed. The British infantry, with the exception of the baggage guard, were nearly all killed or taken. One hundred, including ten officers, were killed ; twenty-three officers and five hundred privates were taken. The artillery, 800 muskets, two standards, thirty-five bag- gage waggons, and one hundred dragoon horses, fell into our possession." In this battle, so glorious to the American arms, Tarleton had every advantage, in point of ground, cavalry, and num- bers, aided by two pieces of artillery. Soon after this brilliant exploit, frequent attacks of the rheumatism compelled General Morgan to retire from the army, and he returned to his seat in Frederick, Virginia, where he continued in retirement, until the insurrection in the western part of Pennsylvania, in 1794, when he was de- tached by the executive of Virginia, at the head of the mi- litia quota of that state, to suppress it. This done, he re- turned into the bosom of his family, where he remained un- til death closed his earthly career, in 1799. MORGAN. 25^ " There existed in the character of General Morgan, a singular contradiction, which is worthy of notice. Although, in battle, no man was ever more prodigal of the exposure of his person to danger, or manifested a more de- liberate disregard of death, yet, so strong was his love of life, at other times, that he has been frequently heard to de- clare, " he would agree to pass half his time as a galley slave r^-ther than quit this world for another." The following outline of his person and character, is from the pen of a military friend, who knew him intimately. " Brioadier-General Morgan was stout and active, six feet in height, strong, not too much encumbered with flesh, and was exactly fitted for the toils and pomp of war. His mind was discriminating and solid, but not comprehensive and combining. His manners plain and decorous, neither insin- uating, nor repulsive. His conversation grave, sententious, and considerate, unadorned and uncaptivating. He reflect- ed deeply, spoke httle, and executed, with keen persever- ance, whatever he undertook. He was indulgent, in his mil- itary command, preferring always the affections of his troops to that dread and awe which surround the rigid disciplina- rian." A considerable time before his death, when the pressure of infirmity began to be heavy, he became seriously con- cerned, about his future welfare. From that period, his chief solace lay in the study of the scriptures, and in devo- tional exercises. He died in the belief of the truths of Christianity, and in full communion with the Presbyterian Church."* niOHARD MOXTTGOMERV, Major General in the American Army. Gen. Montgomery, whose premature death under the walls of Quebec, robbed the American army of one of its brightest ornaments, was born in the north of Ireland, in the year 1737. He possessed an excellent genius, which was matured by a fine education. Entering the army of Great Britain, he successfully fought her battles with Wolfe, at Quebec, in * Amer. Biographical Dictionary. §60 MONTGOMERY. 1759, and on the very spot where he was doomed to fall, when fighting against her, under the banners of freedom. — After his return to England, he quitted his regiment in 1772, though in a fair way to preferment. He had imbibed a strong attachm-cnt to America, and viewing it as the rising seat of science and freedom, resolv- ed upon transferring to her his allegiance. After his arri- val in this country, he purchased an estate in New York, about one hundred miles from the city, and married a dauo-liter of Judae Livinoston. lie now considered him- self as an American. Connected with one of the first families in New York, happy in the highest enjoyment of domestic felicity, he was led by principle to quit the occupations of rural life ; and animated with an ardent zeal for the cause of human na- ture, the liberties of mankind, and the glory of America, both his active life, and his heroic death, verified his last expression to his amiable lady — " You shall never blush fo?- your Montgotnerij." At the commencement of the struggle with Great Brit- ain, tlie command of the continental forces in the northern department, was intrusted to him and Gen. Schuyler, in the fall of 1775. " While the British army was cooped up in Boston, w-ith- out the power of much annoyance to the surrounding coun- try, the congress conceived the design of sending a force into Canada, for the purpose of putting a stop to the pre- parations which it was known that General Carleton, the governor of that province, was making, for aiding his ma- jesty's forces on this side of the Lakes. For this purpose, Generals Schuyler and Montgomery, with two regiments of New York militia, and a body of New Englandmen, amount- ing in the whole to about two thousand men, were ordered to move towards Ticonderoga, which had remained in pos- session of the Americans, since the expedition of Colonels Arnold and Allen. General Schuyler being detained at Al- bany, Montgomery proceeded alone to Crown Point, where he received intelligence that several armed vessels, which lay at the fort of St. John's, were preparing to enter the Lake Champlain, for the purpose of impeding the passage of his troops. This determined him, though not more than half of his troops had arrived, to cross over to the isle aux Noix, at the entrance of the Sorel, and thus blockade the vessels which lay in that river. He had scarcely succeeded MONTGOMERY. 261 in this design, before he was joined by General Schuyler ; and it was determined, after publishing a declaration to the Canadians, setting forth their friendly intentions tov/ards them, to proceed immediately against the fort of St. John's. With this view, they proceeded with their batteaux, for a few miles down the Sorel, and landed on a swampy ground, through which with great difficulty they marched to within two miles of the fort. Here they were suddenly attacked by a party of Indians, which, after a smart skirmish, they dispersed with a trifling loss, and continued their march ; but upon coming within view of the fort, and seeing its strength, General Schuyler, whose force did not amount to a thousand men, thought it prudent to return to the Isle aux Noix, without attempting its reduction. The general, being then obliged to return to Albany, to settle a treaty with the Indians, left the command solely to Montgomery ; and nev- er was there a general better qualified for the duties which now devolved upon him. It was absolutely necessary, be- fore he could go against Montreal, that the fort of St. John's should be reduced. If was well provided, and strongly gar- risoned. The supply of ammunition with which General Mont- gomery was provided was much too small to render an im- mediate siege of St. John's prudent ; and he would proba- bly have been compelled to remain inactive until too late in the season to effect his object, but for the information of some Canadians, that the little fortress of Chamblee, which was but feebly garrisoned, contained a good store of that article. He accordingly made himself master of that place, and, to his great satisfaction, found one hundred and twenty barrels of powder, besides a large quantity of other military stores and provisions. The expedition against this fortress was conducted by Majors Brown and Livingston. They found here the standard of the 7th regiment, which was immediately sent to the congres". General IVIontgomery, being thus enabled to carry on the siege of St. John's, proceeded to erect his works, and to prepare for a general assault. General Carleton, in tlie mean time, hearing of the situation of St. John's, prepared to raise a force for its relief He had posted Colonel M'Lean, with a regiment of Scotch emigrants, at the mouth of the Sorel ; and having raised about a thousand men at Montreal, he attempted to cross at Longueil for the purpose of forming a junction, and marching to the relief of St. 262 MONTGOMERY, John's. But Colonel Ward, who was stationed atLongueil, with three hundred Green Mountain Boys, and a small piece of artillery, kept up so warm a fire upon their boats, that the general was glad to return to Montreal. When the news of this repulse reached Montgomery, he sent a flag to Major Preston, who commanded the besieged fortress, summoning him to surrender ; as all hope of relief was cut off" by Carleton's repulse, and a further resistance could only lead to an useless waste of lives. Major Pres- ton solicited a few days to consider the proposal, being still impressed with the hope that General Carleton might be able to come to his assistance ; but upon his request being refused, he accepted the honorable terms of capitulation which Gen. Montgomery offered to him, and surrendered his garrison prisoners of war. The British officers spoke highly of the polite regard and attention shown to them by Montgomery, who permitted them to wear their swords, and to take off all their baggage and effects. The fort sur- rendered on the 3d of November."* On the 12th he took Montreal, the British General Carle- ton having abandoned the town to its fate, and made his es- cape down the river in tlie night, in a small canoe with muf- fled oars. Montgomery thus obtained possession of all the naval force of the river, consisting of eleven armed vessels. " Many circumstances combined to render the situation of General Montgomery, though a conqueror, extremely unpleasant. The season was far advanced, and the severi- ties of the climate induced many of his men to desert — the time for which many others were enlisted was about to ex- pire ; and few were willing to encounter the hardships of a long march through the deep snows of December. Nothing but personal attachment to the noble character of their commander could have kept a single regiment together. — Af- ter new clothing all his men at Montreal, and rendering them in other respects as comfortable as the magazines there would admit of; and having taken the necessary measures to ensure a supply of provisions on the march, the general pushed on through every difficulty, and joined Arnold, who had marched through the wilderness, and arrived before Quebec a short time previous, on the first of December. — Ilis appearance was a source of great joy to the Colonel's * Allen's Revolution. MOxNTGOMERY. 26S troops, as he had not forgotten to bring with him a store of such suppUes as he knew them to want. Montgomery lost no time after his arrival in preparing for an immediate attack. The whole of his force did not amount to more than the troops of the garrison ; but he at- tem})ted by assuming an appearance of greater strength to weaken the confidence of the latter, and thereby accom- plish his object without bloodshed. For this purpose, on the 5th of December, he addressed a letter to the governor, in which he urged him by every argument calculated to pro- dace an effect upon his humanity or his fears, to spare his garrison the dreadful consequences of a storm, by an imme- diate surrender. General Carleton, however, was too old a soldier to be deceived by appearances — he knew the diffi- culties under which Montgomery labored, and was convin- ced that if his garrison could hold out for a few days, the climate would compel the provincials to abandon the siege. Montgomery's messenger was fired at, and all communica- tion forbidden. In this situation General Montgomery commenced a bombardment from five small mortars, which he kept up for several days, with the hope of throwing the garrison into confusion. But it seemed to produce no ef- fect — a battery of six guns was next opened upon them, at the distance of seven hundred yards, with no better suc- cess. The garrison remained insensible to an impression of alarm. Gen. Montgomery now found himself under circumstan- ces much more dehcate and embarrassing, than those which liad, sixteen years before, environed the hero Wolfe at the same spot. Several feet of snow covered the ground — his troops had undergone every hardship that it was possible to suffer, and it seemed now almost impossible for human na- ture to endure more. He had arrived before Quebec a conqueror, his fame had reached his countrymen and his commander at Cambridge, and they would expect a contin- uance of success. He remembered moreover his parting words to the beloved partner of his bosom — " you shall never blush for your Montgomery," he had said, when he gave her the last embrace. — While these feelings and recol- lections were alternately elevating and depressing his no))le spirit, he made a desperate resolution to attempt the ene- my's works by escalade.^ And such was the skill with which his plan had been formed, that no doubt can remain, that he would ultimately have succeeded, had not his whole scheme 264 MONTGOMERY. been communicated to the garrison by some scoundrels who deserted him at this critical moment. Montgomery soon perceived that the garrison were pre- pared ; and it became necessary to change his whole plan of operations. Having disposed his army into four divis- ions, two of which he intended should make feigned attacks, while Arnold and himself should be engaged in real attacks upon two opposite sides, before daylight on the 31st of De- cember, in a thick fall of snow, Montgomery advanced at the head of the New-Yorkers. Here again his fate resem- bled Wolfe's, for before he could reach the place from whence he intended to commence the attack, the signal had been given through mistake, and the whole garrison were alarmed. It was too late now to make another change in the plan of attack, and Montgom.ery pusht d on- -he was compelled to advance through a nairow path between a pre- cipice and overhanging rocks — he had seized and passed the first barrier, and was boldly advancing to the second, with a few of his bravest companions, when a discharge of grape shot from the cannon that were placed there, stopped the progress of this brave and excellent officer, and destroyed the hopes of the enterprise. Upon the fail of the general, the officer upon whom the command of his party devolved, retired without making any attempt to pursue the advanta- ges already gained. Some of his bravest officers had shar- ed the glorious destiny of Montgomery, or Quebec must have fallen to the united effi^rts of this party and that under Arnold."* In accordance with the concerted plan, " Arnold advan- ced with the utmost intrepidity against the battery in the other quarter of the city. The alarm was immediately giv- en, and the fire on his flank commenced, which, however, did not prove very destructive. As he approached the bar- rier he received a musket ball in the leg, which shattered the bone, and was carried off the field to the hospital. Mor- gan rushed forward to the battery, at the head of his com- pany, and received from one of the pieces, almost at its mouth, a discharge of grape shot, which killed only one man. A few riiles were immediately fired into the embra- zures, by which a British soldier was wounded in the head, and the barricade being instantly mounted, with the aid of ladders, brought by his men on their shoulders, the battery '»'' A lien's Resolution. MONTGOMERY. 265 was deserted without discharging the other gun. The cap- tain of the guard, with the greater number of his men, fell into the hands of the Americans, and the others made their escape. Morgan formed the troops, consisting of his own company, and a few bold individuals who had pressed forward from other parts of the division, in the streets within the barrier ; and took into custody several English and Canadian burgh- ers ; but his situation soon became extremely critical. He was not followed by the main body of the division ; he had no guide, and was, himself, totally ignorant of the situation of the town. It was yet dark ; and he had not the slightest knowledge of the course to be pursued, or of the defences to be encountered. Thus circumstanced, it was thought unadvisable to advance further. As the glow, produced by immense exertion, gave way to the cold, which was so intense that they were covered with icicles, and as the ardor, excited by action, subsided, when they were no longer engaged, even this daring party became less animated. Whilst waiting in total ignorance of the fate of the residue of the division, the darkness of the night, the fury of the storm, the scattering fire still kept up by the enemy, principally in their rear, the paucity of their numbers, and the uncertainty concerning their future ope- rations, visibly affected them. It was, after some dehbera- tion, determined to maintain their ground, while Morgan should return to the barrier they had passed, for the purpose of bringing up the troops who were supposed to be still on the other side of it. They were soon joined by Lieutenant Colonel Greene, and Majors Bigelow and Meiggs, with several fragments of companies, so as to constitute, altogether, about two hun- dred men. As the light of the day began to appear, this small but gallant party was again formed, with Morgan's company in front ; and with one voice, they loudly called on him to lead them against the second barrier, which was now known to be less than forty paces from them, though concealed by an angle of the street from their immediate view. Seizing the few ladders brought with them, they again rushed on to the charge, and on turning the angle, were hailed by captain, or lieutenant Anderson, who was just issuing with a body of troops, through the gate of the barricade, for the purpose of attacking the Americans, whom he had expected to find 23 E68 ^MONTGOMERY. dispersed, and probably plundering the town. Morgan, who V^as in the front, answered his challenge by a ball through his head, and as he fell he was drawn within the barricade and the gate closed upon the assailants, who received at the same instant a tremendous fire from the windows overlook- ing the barrier, and from the port holes through it. Lad- ders were immediately placed against the barricade, and for some time a fierce contest was maintained, which, on the part of the assailants, was also a bloody one. A few of the bolder, among the front files, ascended the ladders un- der this deadly fire ; and saw, on the other side of the bar- ricade, double ranks of soldiers, who, with their muskets planted on the ground, presented hedges of bayonets to re- ceive them, if they should attempt to leap to the earth. Exposed thus, in a narrow street, to a most galling fire, many of the assailants threw themselves into the stone houses on each side, which afibrded them a shelter both from the storm, and from the enemy ; and through the win- dows of which they kept up an irregular and not very effect- ive fire. One circumstance which greatly contributed to the irresolution now displaying itself, was, that scarcely more than one in ten of the fire arms could be used. Notwith- standing the precaution of tying handkerchiefs around the locks, the violence of the storm had totally unfitted them for service. Morgan soon found himself at the barrier with only a few oflficers and a small number of soldiers. Yet he could not prevail on himself to relinquish the enterprise. With a voice louder than the tempest, he called on those who were sheltered in the houses, to come forth and scale the barrier ; but he called in vain ; neither exhortations nor reproaches could draw them in suflScient numbers to the point of attack. Being at length compelled to relinquish all hopes of success, he ordered the few brave men who atiil adhered to him, to save themselves in the houses, while he, accompanied only by Lieut. Heth, returned towards the first barrier, in order to concert with the field officers some plan for drawing oif the troops. He soon met Majors Big- elow and Meiggs, to whom he proposed an immediate re- treat by the same route along which they had marched to the attack. — This proposition was assented to, and Lieut. Heth was despatched to draw the troops from their present sit«ttio«."* ^Marshall's Washington. MONTGOMERY. 26i •'In Montgomery, the Americans lost one of the bravest and most accomplished generals that ever led an army to the field. But he was not more illustrious for his skill and courage as an officer than he was estimable for his private virtues. He possessed a mind adorned with every accom- plishment, and a person in which every manly grace shone with conspicuous lustre. His was " A combination, and a form indeed, Wliere every g-od did seem to set his seal, To give the world assurance of a man." General Montgomery had borne the commission of a Colonel in the war of 1759, and was fighting by the side of Wolfe, when that Spartan hero fell. His bravery and his worth were then acknowledged by the British army, and they were proud to regard him as a friend and a brother ; but notwithstanding the many professions of attachment and esteem for his character, his body would have been thrown with the heap of slain, uncoffined and unmatked, in- to the same indiscriminate pit, but for the lieutenant-govern- or : who, urged by the solicitations of the lady whom he af- terwards married, reluctantly procured a coffin of the rough- est sort, and thus apart from the rest, buried his former friend and companion in arms. — From this spot, after moul- dering in the grave for more than forty-two years, the bones of this gallant soldier were removed by his fellow-citizens of New- York, and deposited in a tomb more worthy of him. The resemblance in the character, conduct, and destiny of Wolfe and Montgomery, is too striking to be passed over without a remark. Montgomery had been in some measure the pupil of Wolfe ; under his guidance he had learned the first rudiments of war ; and in his career of glory, he^ saw an example worthy of imitation. We have seen the difficulties under which Wolfe had to struggle, and we have seen the noble daring which led him, perhaps against the suggestions of prudence, to attempt to surmount them. He lived, as he expressed himself, but to fight Montcalm on equal ground — this accomplished, he had consummated the only object of his existence, and died ^^ content.'^ Wolfe was fighting for his king under the orders of his ministry, and here lies the striking difference in the lives and fortunes of these heroes. Montgomery entered on the expedition with the name of rebel— -He ventured his fame, his char- 268 MONTGOMERY. acter, his life, in the service of revolted colonies— but it was to secure to these colonies the enjoyment of liberty un- der the rights of the constitution. For this he sacrificed the tender endearments of conjugal felicity, and at the head of an undisciplined body of men, placed himself in opposi- tion to a veteran general. The skill which he displayed was equal to the fortitude which such an enterprise deman- ded. He had not only to contend against a formidable en- emy, but against the severities of a climate to which none of his men were accustomed. His having in one night con- structed a battery of ice, will at once show his military skill and industry, and the intense coldness of the climate. Witli a discontented, starving and mutinous army, he pushed boldly forward in search of that victory which had cheered the parting moments of Wolfe. But destiny had marked a different course for him ; death arrested his steps too soon. He was cut off in the onset, and none was left to follow the plan which he had marked out — his last sigh was embittered by anticipated defeat. Victory brings its own lustre ; and when she entwines her garlands around the head of an insensate corpse, they seem from that single circumstance to display a lovelier ver- dure : death gives a more touching interest, a deeper pa- thos to the fate of the hero — the million will admire, and posterity will always applaud. But how does the tragedy deepen when the hero expires on the field of battle, sur- rounded not by the beams of victory, but by the darkness of defeat. He sees nothing to cheer his parting moments — nothing in anticipation but public obloquy, and that re- proach which seems inseparable from want of success. This reproach and this obloquy did pursue the shade of Montgomery : his heroism was stigmatised with the charac- ter of rashness — of insanity. But let it be remembered, that nothing but the diiference of a few hours in the term of his life, prevented that victory which consecrated the same rashness in Wolfe, and impressed upon it the character of glory. The turn of a die decides the fate of an army ; and the same thing is desperation in one, or the highest effort of military skill in another, according as defeat or success shall attend the enterprise. Posterity, that looks at the records of history unbiassed, will observe no difference in the mcr- I .*ii PUTNAM. 2Q9 its of Wolfe and Montgemery. They were both heroes— both entitled to the chaplet of immortal fame."* To express the high sense entertained by his country of his services, congress directed a monument of white marble to be erected, with the folio vring inscription ; which was placed in iiont of St. Paul's Church, New-York : — THIS MONUMENT was erected by order of Congress, 25th January, 1776, to transmit to posterity ' a grateful remembrance of the PATRIOTISM, CONDUCT, ENTER- PRISE AND PERSEVERANCE of Major-General RICHARD MONTGOMERY, who, after a series of successes, amidst the most discour- aging difficulties, fell in the attack on QUEBEC, 31st December, 1775; aged 39 years. riie remains of Gen. Montgomery, after resting 42 years ;'t Quebec, by a resolve of the state of New-York, were brought to the city of New-York, on the 8th of July, 1818. and deposited with ample form, and grateful ceremonies, !:ear the aforesaid monument in St. Paul's Church. ZSR^HZi PUTNAM, Major-General in the American Army. Israel Putnam, who, through a regular gradation of pro- motion, became the senior Major-General in the army of the United States, and next in rank to General Washington, was born at Salem, Mass. on the 7th day of January, 1718. Courage, enterprise, activity and perseverance, were the lirst characteristics of his mind ; and his disposition was as frank and generous, as his mind was fearless and inde- *Ainerican Revolution. 23* 270 PUTNAM. pendent. Although he had too much suavity in his nature' to commence a quarrel, he had too much sensibility not to feel, and too much honor not to resent, -an intended insult. The first time he went to Boston, he was insulted for his rusticity by a boy of twice his size and age : after bearuio the sarcasms until his patience was worn out, he challenged, engaged, and vanquished his unmannerly antagonist, to the great diversion of a crowd of spectators. While a stripling, his ambition was to perform the labor of a man, and to ex* 72 PUTNAM. that liis shirt was stripped over his head, and his skin severe- ly lacerated. After he had adjusted his clothes, and loaded his gun with nine buck-shot, holding a torch in one hand, and the musket in the other, he descended the second time. When he drew nearer than before, the wolf, assuming a still more fierce and terrible appearance, howling, rolling her eyes, snapping her teeth, and dropping her head betv/een her legs, was evidently in the attitude, and on the point of springing at him. At the critical instant he levelled and fired at her head. Stunned v/ith the shock, and suffocated with the smoke, he immediately found himself drawn out of the cave. But having refreshed himself, and permitted the smoke to dissipate, he went down the third time. Once more he came within sight of the wolf, who appearing very passive, he applied the torch to her nose, and perceiving her dead, he took hold of her ears, and then kicking the; rope, (still tied round his legs,) the people above wdth no ^^mali exultation, dragged them both oat together."* But the time had now arrived, which Vv'as to turn the in- struments of husbandry into v/eaponsof hostility, and to ex- cliange the hunting of wolves, which had ravaged the sheep- folds, for the pursuit after savages who had desolated the frontiers. Putnam was about 37 years of age, when the war between England and France broke out in America. — In 1755 he was appointed to the command of a company, in 1 he first regim.ent of Provincials that was levied by Connec- ticut. The regiment joined the army at the opening of the campaign, not far distant from Crown Point. " Soon after his arrival it camp, he became intimately ac- quainted with the famous partizan Captain, afterwards Ma- jor Rogers, with whom he was frequently associated in traversing the wilderness, reconnoitering the enemy's lines, gaining intelligence and taking straggling prisoners, as well as in beating up the quarters, and surprising the advanced pickets of their army. For these operations, a corps of rangers was -formed from the irregulars. The first time Rogers and Putnam were detached with a party of these light troops, it was the fortune of the latter to preserve, with his own hand, the Hfe of the former, and to cement their friendship with the blood of one of their eiicmies. The object of this expedition was to obtain an accurate knowledge of the position and state of the works at Crown ■ * Life of Putnam. PUTNAM. 273 Point. It was impracticable to approach with their party near enough for this purpose, without being discovered. — Alone, the undertaking was sufficiently hazardous, on ac- count of the swarms of hostile Indians who infested the woods. Our two partizans, how^ever, left all their men at a convenient distance, with strict orders to continue conceal- ed until their return. Having thus cautiously taken their arrangements, they advanced with the profoundest silence in the evening ; and lay during the niglit contiguous to the fortress. Early in the morning they approached so close as to be able to give satisfactory information to the general who had sent them, on the several points to which their attention had been directed . but Captain Rogers, being at a little distance from Captain Putnam, fortuitously met a stout Frenchman, who instantly seized his fusee with one hand, and with the other attempted to stab him, while he called to an adjacent guard for assistance. The guard answered. — Putnam, perceiving the imminent danger of his friend, and that no time was to be lost, or further alarm given by firing, ran rapidly to them, while they were yet strugghng, and with the butt-end of his piece laid the Frenchman dead at his feet. The partizans, to elude pursuit, precipitated theiv flight, joined the party, and returned without loss to the en- campment.' * The time for which the colonial troops engaged to serve, terminated with the campaign. Putnam was reappointed, and again took the field in 1756. " Few are so ignorant of war as not to know that military adventures, in the night, are always extremely hable to acci- dents. Captain Putnam, having been commanded to recon- noitre the enemy's camp at the Ovens near Ticonderoga, took the brave Lieutenant Robert Durkee as his companion. In attempting to execute these orders, he narrowly missed being taken himself in the first instance, and killing his friend in the second. It was customary for the British and Provincial troops to place their fires round their camp, which frequently exposed them to the enemy's scouts and patroles. A contrary practice, then unknown in the Eng- lish army, prevailed among the French and Indians. The plan was much more rational : they kept their fires in the centre, lodged their men circularly at a distance, and post- ed their sentinels in the surrounding darkness. Our parti- * Life of Putnam. 274 PUTNAM. zans approaclied the camp, and supposing the sentries were within the circle of fires, crept upon their hands and kneee with the greatest possible caution, until, to their utter as- tonishment, they found themselves in the thickest of the enemy. The sentinels, discovering them, fired, and slightly wounded Durkee in the thigh. He and Putnam had no al- ternative. They fled. The latter, being foremost, and scarcely able to see his hand before him, soon plunged into a clay-pit, Durkee, almost at the identical moment, came tumbling after. Putnam, by no means pleased at finding a companion, and believing him to be one of the enemy, lift- ed his tomahawk to give the deadly blow, when Durkee, (who had followed so closely as to know him,) inquired whether he had escaped unhurt. Captain Putnam, instant- ly recognizing the voice, dropped his weapon ; and both, springing from the pit, made good their retreat to the neigh- bouring ledges, amidst a shower of random shot. There- they betook themselves to a large log, by the side of which they lodged the remainder of the night. Before they lay down, Captain Putnam said he had a little rum in his can- teen, which could never be more acceptable or necessary : but on examining the canteen, which hung under his arm, he found the enemy had pierced it with their balls, and that there was not a drop of liquor left. The next day he found fourteen bullet holes in his blanket."* Nothing worthy of remark happened during the course of this campaign, but the active services of Captain Putnam on every occasion attracted the admiration of the public, and induced the legislature of Connecticut to promote him to a majority in 1757. "In the winter of 1757, when Col. Haviland was com- mandant at Fort Edv»^ard, the barracks adjoining to tht- northwest bastion took fire. They extended within twelve feet of the magazine, which contained three hundred bar- rels of powder. On its first discovery, the fire raged with great violence. The commandant endeavored, in vain, by discharging some pieces of heavy artillery against the sup- porters of this flight of barracks, to level them with the ground. Putnam arrived from the island where he w^as sta- tioned at the moment when the blaze a])proached that end which was contiguous to the magazine. Instantly a vigor- ous attempt was made to extinguish the conflagration. A * Life of Putnam. PUTNAM. 275 wjiy was opened by a postern gate to the rivei', and the sol- diers were employed in bringuig water ; which he, having mounted on a ladder to the eves of the building, received and threw upon the flame. It continued, notwithstanding their utmost efforts, to gain upon them. ,He stood, envelo- ped in smoke, so near the sheet of fire, that a pair of thick blanket mittens were burnt entirely from his hands ; he was supplied with another pair dipt in water. Colonel Haviland, fearing that he would perish in the flames, called to him to come down. But he entreated that he might be sufl'ered to remain, since destruction must inevitably ensue if their ex- ertions should be remitted. The gallant commandant, not less astonished than charmed at the boldness of his conduct, forbade any more effects to be carried out of the fort, ani- mated the men to redoubled diligence, and exclaimed, " if we must be blown up, we will go all together." At last, when the barracks were seen to be tumbling, Putnam de- scended, placed himself at the interval, and continued from an incessant rotation of replenished buckets to pour water upon the magazine. The outside planks were already cons sumed by the proximity of the tire, and as only one thick- ness of timber intervened, the trepidation now became gen- eral and extreme. Putnam, still undaunted, covered with a cloud of cinders, and scorched with the intensity of the lieat, maintained his position until the fire subsided, and the danger was wholly over. He had contended for one hour and a half with that terrible element. His legs, his thighs, his arms, and his face were blistered ; and when he pulled off his second pair of mittens, the skin from his hands and tino-ers followed them. It was a month before he recover- o od. The commandant, to whom his merits had before en- deared him, could not stifle the emotions of gratitude, due to the man who had been so instrumental in preserving the magazine, the fort, and the garrison. In the month of August five hundred men were employ- ed, under the orders of Majors Rogers and Putnam, to watch the motions of the enemy near Ticonderoga. At South-Bay they separated the party into two equal divisions, and Rogers took a position on Wood-Creek, twelve miles distant from Putnam. Upon being, sometime afterwards, discovered, they form- ed a re-union, and concerted measures for returning to Fort Edward. Their march through the woods was in three di- risions by files : the right commanded by Rogers, the left 276 PUTNAM. by Putnam, and the centre by Capt. D'Ell. At tlie moment of moving, the famous French partizan Molang, who had been sent with five hundred men to intercept our party, was not more than one mile and a half distant from them. Major Putnam was just emerging from the thicket, into the com- mon forest, when the enemy rose, and with discordant yells and whoops, commenced an attack upon the right of his di- vision. Surprised, but undismayed, Putnam halted, return- ed the fire, and passed the word for the other divisions to ad- vance for his support. D'Ell came. The action, though widely scattered, and principally fought between man and man, soon grew general and intensely warm. Major Putnam, perceiving it would be impracticable to Cross the creek in his rear, determined to maintain his ground. Inspired by his example, the officers and men behaved with great bravery : sometimes they fought aggregately in open view, and sometimes individually under cover ; taking aim from behind the bodies of trees, and acting in a manner in- dependent of each other. For himself, having discharged his fuzee several times, at length it missed fire, while the muzzle was pressed against the breast of a large and well proportioned savage. This zvarrior, availing himself of the '^indefensible attitude of his adversary, with a tremendous war-whoop, sprang forward, with his lifted hatchet, and com- pelled him to surrender ; and having disarmed and bound him fast to a tree, returned to the battle. The intrepid Captain D'Ell and Harman, who now com- manded, were forced to give ground for a little distance : ^ the savages, conceiving this to be the certain harbinger of victory, rushed impetuously on, with dreadful and redoubled cries. But our two partizans, collecting a handful of brave men, gave^the pursuers so warm a reception as to oblige them, in turn, to retreat a little beyond the spot at which the action had commenced. Here they made a stand. This chauiie of ground occasioned the tree to which Putnam was tied to be directly between the fire of the two parties. Hu- man imagination can hardly figure to itself a more deplora- ble situation. The balls flew incessantly from either side, many struck the tree, while some passed through the sleeves and skirts of his coat. In this state of jeopardy, unable to move his body, to stir his limbs, or even to incline his head, he remained more than an hour. So equally balanced, and so obstinate was the fight ! At one moment, while the bat- tle swerved in favor of the enemv, a vouncr savat^e chose an PUTNAM. 277 odd way of discovering his humour. He found Piitnam bound. He might have despatched him at a blow. But he loved better to excite the terrors of the prisoner, by hurl- ing a tomahawk at his head, or rather it should seem his object was to see how near he could throw it without touch- ing h!m — the weapon struck in the tree a number of times at a hair's breadth distance from the mark. When the In- dian had finished his amusement, a French bas-officer (a much more inveterate savage by nature, though descended ftom so humane and polished a nation) perceiving Putnam, came up to him, and, leveUing a fuzee within a foot of his breast, attempted to discharge it — it missed fire. Ineffec- tually did the intended victim solicit the treatment due to his situation, by repeating that he was a prisoner of war. The degenerate Frenchman did not understand the lan- guage of honor or of nature : deaf to their voice, and dead to sensibihty, he violently, and repeatedly, pushed the muz- zle of his gun against Putnam's ribs, and finally gave him a cruel blow on the jaw with the but-end of his piece. After this dastardly deed he left him. At length the active intrepidity of D'Ell and Harman, se- conded by the persevering valor of their followers, prevailed. ^. They drove from the field the enemy, who left about nineiy dead behind them. As they were retiring, Putnam was un- tied by the Indian who had made him prisoner, and whom he afterwards called master.. Having been conducted for some distance from the place of action, he was stripped of his coat, vest, stockings and shoes ; loaded with as many of the packs of the wounded as could be piled upon him ; "r^J strongly pinioned, and his wrists tied as closely together as "" they could be pulled with a cord. After he had marched, through no pleasant paths, in this painful manner, for many a tedious mile, the party (who were excessively fatigued) halted to breathe. His hands were now immoderately swel- led from the tightness of the ligature ; and the pain had be- come intolerable. His feet were so much scratched, that the blood dropped fast from them. Exhausted with bear- ing a burden above his strength, and frantic with torments exquisite beyond endurance, he entreated the Irish inter- preter to implore, as the last and only grace he desired of the savages, that they would knock him on the head and take his scalp at once, or loose his hands. A French oflS- cer, instantly interposing, ordered his hands to be unbound, and some of the packs to be taken off*. By this time the In** 24 278 PUTNAM. dian who captured him, and had been absent with the woun- ^ ded, coming up, gave him a pair of mocasons, and express- ed great indignation at the unworthy treatment his prisoner had suffered. That savage chief again returned to the care of the wounded, and the Indians, about two hundred in number, went before the rest of the party to the place where the whole were that night to encamp. They took with them Major Putnam, on whom, besides innumerable other outra- ges, they had the barbarity to inflict a deep wound with the tomahawk in the left cheek. His sufferings were in this place to be consummated. A scene of horror, infinitely greater than had ever met his eyes before, was now prepar- ing. It was determined to roast him alive. For this pur- pose they led him into a dark forest, stripped him naked, bound him to a tre^, and piled dry brush, with other fuel, at a small distance, in a circle round him. They accompanied their labors, as if for his funeral dirge, with screams and sounds inimitable but by savage voices. Then they set the piles on fire. A sudden shower damped the rising flame. Still they strove to kindle it, until at last, the blaze ran fierce- ly round the circle. Major Putnam soon began to feel the scorching heat. His hands were so tied that he could move his body. He often shifted sides as the fire approached. This sight, at the very idea of which all but savages must shudder, afford- ed the highest diversion to his inhuman tormentors, who de- monstrated the delirium of their joy by correspondent yells, dances, and gesticulations. He saw clearly that his final hour was inevitably come. He summoned all his resolu- tion, and composed his mind, as far as the circumstances could admit, to bid an eternal farewell to all he held most dear. To quit the world would scarcely have cost a single pang ; but for the idea of home, but for the remembrance of domestic endearments, of the affectionate partner of his soul, and of their beloved offspring. His thought was ulti- mately fixed on a happier state of existence beyond the tortures he was beginning to endure. The bitterness of death, even of that death which is accompanied with the keenest agonies, was, in a manner, past — nature, with a fee- ble struggle, was quitting its last hold on sublunary things — when a French officer rushed through the crowd, opened a way by scattering the burning brands, and unbound the vic- tim. It was Molang himself-— to whom a savage^ unwilling PUTNAM. 279 to see another human sacrifice immolated, had run and com- municated the tidings. That commandant spurned and se- verely reprimanded the barbarians, whose nocturnal pow- was and hellish orgies he suddenly ended. Putnam did not want for feeling or gratitude. The French command- er, fearing to trust him alone with them, remained until he could deliver him in ftfety into the hands of his master. The savage approached his prisoner kindly, and seemed to treat him with particular affection. He offered him some hard biscuit ; but finding that he could not chew them, on account of the blow he had received from the Frenchman, this more humane savage soaked some of the biscuit in wa- ter, and made him suck the pulp-Hke part. Determined, however, not to lose his captive, (the refreshment being fin- ished) he took the mocasons from his feet, and tied them to one of his wrists : then directing him to lie down on his back upon the bare ground, he stretched one arm to its full length, and bound it fast to a young trfee ; the other arm was extended and bound in the same manner-^his legs were stretched apart, and fastened to two saplings. Then a number of tall, but slender poles, were cut down, which, with some long bushes, were laid across his body from head to foot ; on each side lay as many Indians as could conven- iently find lodging, in order to prevent the possibility of his escape. In this disagreeable and painful posture he re- mained until morning. During this night, the longest and most dreary conceivable, our hero used to relate that he felt a ray of cheerfulness come casually across his mind, and could not even refrain from smiling when he reflected on this ludicrous group for a painter, of which he himself was the principal figure. The next day he was allowed his blanket and mocasons, and permitted to march without carrying any pack, or re- ceiving any insult. To allay his extreme hunger, a little bear's meat was given, and which he sucked through his teeth. At night the party arrived at Ticouderoga ; and the prisoner was placed under the care of a French guard. The savages, who had been prevented from glutting their diabolical thirst for blood, took other opportunity for mani- festing their malevolence for the disappointment, by hor- rid grimaces and angry gestures ; but they were suffered no more to offer violence or personal indignity to him. After having been examined by the Marquis de Mont- calm, Major Putnam was conducted to Montreal by a 280 PUTNAM. Frencli officer, who treated him with tlie greatest indulgence and humanity. At this place were several prisoners. Colonel Peter Schuyler, remarkable for his philanthropy, generosity and friendship, was of the number. No sooner had he heard of Major Putnam's arrival, than he went to the interpreter's quarters, and inquired whether he h||l a Provincial Major in his custody ? He found Major Putnam in a comfortless condition — without coat, waistcoat, or hose — the remnant of his clothing miserably dirty and ragged — his beard long and squalid — his legs torn by thorns and briars — his face gashed with wounds, and swollen with bruises. Col. Schuyler, ir- ritated beyond all sufferance at such a sight, could scarcely restrain his speech within limits, consistent with the pru- dence of a prisoner and the meekness of a Christian. Ma- jor Putnam was immediately treated according to his rank, clothed in a decent manner, and supplied with money by that liberal and sympathetic patron of the distressed. The capture of Frontenac by General Bradstreet afford- ed occasion for an exchange of prisoners. Colonel Schuy- ler was comprehended in the cartel. A generous spirit can never be satisfied with imposing tasLs for its generosity to accomplish. Apprehensive if it should be known that Put- nam was a distinguished partizan, his liberation might be retarded, and knowing that there were officers who, from the length of their captivity, had a claim of priority to ex- change, he had, by his happy address, induced the governor to offer, that wiiatever ofhcer he might think proper to nom- inate should be included in the present cartel. With great politeness in manner, but seeming indifference as to object, he expressed his warmest acknowledgments to the govern- or, and said, — 'There is an old man here, who is a Provin- cial major, and wishes to be at home with his wife and children ; he can do no good here or any where else : 1 believe your Excellency had better keep some of the young men, who have no wife nor children to care for, and let the old fellow go home with me.' This justifiable finesse had the desired effect."* Shortly after, Putnam was promoted to a lieutenant-colo- nel, in which he continued until the close of the war, ever, and on all occasions, supporting his hard-earned reputation for valor and intrepidity ; and, at the expiration of ten years *Liife of Putnam. PUTNAM. 281 from his first receiving a commission, after having seen as much service, endured as many hardships, encountered as many dangers, and acquired as many laurels as any officer of his rank, with great satisfaction laid aside his uniform and returned to the plough. On the 22d day of March, 1765, the stamp- act received the royal assent. Col. Putnam was at this time a member of the house of assembly of the State of Connecticut, and was deputed to wait on the then Governor Fitch on the sub- ject. The questions of the governor and answers of Put- nam, will serve to indicate the spirit of the times. After some conversation, the governor asked Col Putnam " what he should do if the stamped paper should be sent to him by the king's authority ?" Putnam rephed, — " lock it up un- til we shall visit you again." " And what will you do then ?" " We shall expect you to give us the key of the room in which it is deposited : and, if you think fit, in order to se- cure yourself from blame, you may forewarn us, upon our peril, not to enter the room." " And what will you do af- terwards ?" '• Send it safely back again." " But if J should refuse admission 1" " In such case your house will be de- molished in five minutes." It is supposed that a report of this conversation was one reason why the stamp paper was never sent from New-York to Connecticut. Being once, in particular, asked by a British officer, with whom he had formerly served, " whether he did not serious- ly believe that a well-appointed British army of five thou- sand veterans could march though the whole continent of America ?" — he briskly replied, " no doubt, if they behav- ed civilly, and paid well for every thing they wanted ; but,' after a moment's pause, added, " if they should attempt it in a hostile manner, (though the American men were out of the question,) the women, with their ladles and broomsticks, would knock them all on the head before they had got half way through." The battle of Lexington found Putnam in the midst of his agricultural pursuits. Immediately upon learning the fatal rencounter, he left his plough in the middle of the field, unyoked his team, and, without waiting to change his clothes, set oflf for the theatre of action. But finding the British retreated to Boston, and invested by a sufficient force to watch their movements, he came back to Connecticut, levied a regiment under authority of the legislature, and 24* 282 PUTNAM. speedily returned to Cambridge. He was now promoted to be a major-general on the continental establishment. " Not long after this period, the British commander in chief found the means to convey a proposal, privately, to General Putnam, that if he would relinquish the rebel par- ty, he might rely upon being made a major-general on the British establishment, and receiving a great pecuniary com- pensation for his services. Gen. Putnam spurned at the offer ; which, however, he thought prudent at that time to conceal from public notice." " In the battle of Bunker's Hill he exhibited his usual in- trepidity. He directed the men to reserve their fire, till the enemy was very near, reminded them of their skill, and told them to take good aim. They did so, and the execution was terrible. After the retreat, he made a stand at Winter Hill, and drove back the enemy under cover of their ships. When the army was organized by General Washington at Cambridge, Putnam was appointed to command the reserve. In August, 1776, he was stationed at Brooklyn, on Long- Island. After the defeat of our army on the twenty-seventh of that month, he went to New- York and was very service- able in the city and neighborhood. In October or Novem- ber he was sent to Philadelphia to fortify that city. In January, 1777, he was directed to take post at Prince- ton, where he continued until spring. At this place a sick prisoner, a captain, requested that a friend in the British army at Brunswick might be sent for to assist him in making his will. Putnam was perplexed. He had but fifty men under his command, and he did not wish to have his weak- ness known ; yet he was unwilling to deny the request, lie however sent a flag of truce, and directed the officer to be brought in the night. In the evening lights were placed in all the college windows, and in every apartment of the vacant houses throughout the town. The officer, on his return, reported that General Putnam's army could not consist of less than four or five thousand men. In the spring he was appointed to the command of a sep- arate army in the Highlands of New-York. One Palmer, a lieutenant in the tory new levies, was detected in the camp ; Governor Tryon reclaimed him as a British officer, threat- ening vengeance if he was not restored. Gen. Putnam wrote the following pithy reply : — " Sir, Nathan Palmer, a lieutenant in your king's service, was taken in my camp as a spy ; he was tried as a spy ; he was condemned as a spy ; (drlS:^ o IP liJ T ^^ Am' S ]B § € ATP IE I ^PUTNAM. 2^83 and he shall be hanged as a spy. P. S. Afternoon. He is hanged." After the loss of Fort Montgomery, the commander in chief determined to build another fortification, and he direc- ted Putnam to fix upon a spot. To him belongs the praise of having chosen West Point."* " About the middle of winter, while General Putnam was on a visit to his out-post at Horse-Neck, he found Governor Try on advancing upon that town with a corps of fifteen hundred men. To oppose these, General Putnam had only apicquetof 150 men, and two iron field pieces, without horses or dragropes. He, however, planted his cannon on the high ground, by the meeting-house, and retarded their approach by firing several times, until, perceiving the horse (supported by the infantry) a^iout to charge, he ordered the picquct to provide for their safety by retiring to a swamp in- accessible to hdrse, and secured his own, by plunging down the steep precipice at the church upon a full trot. This precipice is so steep, where he descended, as to have artifi- cial stairs, composed of nearly one hundred stone steps, for the accommodation of foot passengers. There the dra- goons, who were but a sword's length from him, stopped short ; for the declivity was so abrupt, that they ventured not to follow ; and, before they could gain the valley, by going round the brow of the hill in the ordinary road, he was far enough beyond their reach. He continued his route unmolested, to Stamford ; from whence, having strengthen- ed his picquet by the junction of some militia, he came back again, and, in turn, pursued Governor Tryon in his retreat. As he rode down the precipice, one ball, of the many fired at him, went through his beaver ; but Governor Tryon, by way of compensation for spoiling his hat, sent him, soon af- terwards, as a present, a complete suit of clothes."! The campaign of 1779, which was principally spent in strengthening the works at West Point, finished the milita- ry career of Putnam. A paralytic affection impaired the ac- tivity of liis body, and compelled him to quit the army. " The remainder of the life of General Putnam was pas- sed in quiet retirement with his family. He experienced few interruptions in his bodily health, (except the paralytic debility with which he was afflicted,) retained full possession of his mental faculties, and enjoyed the society of his friends ,* Allen's Biegraphieal Dictionary. jLife of Putnam. 284 PUTNAiM. until the 17th of May, 1790, when he was violently attack- ed with an inflammatory disease. Satisfied from the first that it would prove mortal, he was calm and resigned, and welcomed the approach of death with joy, as a messenger sent to call him from a life of toil to everlasting rest. On the 19th of May, 1790, he ended a hfe which had been spent in cultivating and defending the soil of his birth, aged 72 years." The late Rev. Dr. Dwight, President of Yale College, who knew General Putnam intimately, has portrayed his charac- ter faithfully in the following inscription, which is engraven on his tomb : — Sacred be this Monument to the memory of ISRAEL PUTNAM, ESQ senior Major-General in the armies of the United States of America ; who was born at Salem, in the Province of Massachusetts, on the 7th day of January. A. D. 1718, and died on the 19th of May, A. D. 1790. Passenger, if thou art a Soldier, drop a tear over the dust of a Hero, who, ever attentive to the lives and happiness of his men, dared to lead where any dared to follow : if a Patriot, remember the distinguished and gallant services rendered thy country by the Patriot who sleeps beneath this marble : if thou art honest, generous and worthy, render a cheerful SCHUYLER. 285 tribute of respect to a man, whose generosity was singular, whose honesty was proverbial ; who raised himself to universal esteem, and offices of eminent distinction, by personal worth, and a useful Ufe. FHZZiZP SCHtrVIiZSR, Major-General in the American Army. Gen. Schuyler was a native of New York, a member of one of the most respectable families in that state, and high- ly merits the character of an intelligent and meritorious officer. As a private gentleman he was'tlignified but courte- ous, his manners urbane, and his hospitality unbounded. He was justly considered as one of the most distinguished champions of liberty, and his noble mind soared above de- spair, even at a period when he experienced injustice from the public, and when darkness and gloom overspread the land. He was able, prompt, and decisive, and his conduct, in every branch of duty, marked his active industry and rapid execution. He received his commission from congress, June 19th, 1776, and was ordered to take command of the expedition against Canada ; but, being taken sick, the command de- volved upon Gen. Montgomery. On his recovery, he devo- ted his time, and with the assistance of Gen. St. Clair, used every effort to stay the progress of a veteran and numerous army under Burgoyne, who had commenced his march from Canada, on the bold attempt of forming a junction at Albany with Sir Henry Clinton. The duties of Gen. Schuyler now became laborious, in- tricate and complicated. On his arrival at head-quarters he ibund the army of the north not only too weak for the ob- jects intrusted to it, but also badly supplied with arms, clothes and provisions. From a spy he obtained informa- 286 SCHUYLER. tion that General Burgoyne had arrived at Quebec, and was to take command of the British force on their contem- plated expedition. •' A few days removed the doubts which might have exist- ed respecting the intentions of Burgoyne. It was understood that his army was advancing towards the lakes. General Schuyler was sensible of the danger which threatened his department, and made every exertion to meet it. He visited in person the different posts, used the utmost activity in obtaining supplies of provisions to enable them to hold out in the event of a siege, and proceeded to Albany both for the purpose of attending to the supplies and of expediting the march of Nixon's brigade, whose arrival was expected ; when he received intelligence from Gen. St. Clair, who was intrusted with the defence of Ticondero- ga, that Burgoyne had appeared before that place. In the course of the preceding winter, a plan for pene- trating to the Hudson from Canada by the way of the lakes, was completely digested, and its most minute parts arranged in the cabinet of St. James. Gen. Burgoyne, who assisted in forming it, was entrusted with its execution, and was to lead a formidable army against Ticonderoga, as soon as the season would permit. At the same time, a smaller party, un- der Col. St. Legar, composed of Canadians, new raised Amer- icans, and a few Europeans, aided by a powerful body of Indians, was to march from Oswego, to enter the country by the way of Mohawk, and to join the grand army on the Hudson. The force assigned for this service was such as the Gen- eral hinself deemed sufficient ; and, as it was the favorite plan of the minister, no circumstance was omitted which could give to the numbers employed their utmost possible efficacy. The troops were furnished with every military equipment which the service required ; the assisting general officers were of the first reputation, and the train of artille- ry, was perhaps, the most powerful ever annexed to an army not more numerous."* But valor, perseverance and industry could avail nothing against such vast numbers as now assailed the northern ar- my. Ticonderoga was evacuated, and stores, artillery, and military equipage, to an immense amount, fell into the hands of the enemy. " Knowing the inferiority of his numbers, and that he * Annual Register. SCHUYLER. 287 could only hope to save his army by the rapidity of his march, General St. Clair reached Charleston, thirty miles from Ticonderoga, on the night succeedmg the evacuation of the fort. On the 7th of July, at Stillwater, on his way to Ticonde- roga, General Schuyler was informed of the evacuation of that place ; and on the same day, at Saratoga, the total loss of the stores at Skeensborough, was also reported to him. — From General St. Clair he had heard nothing, and the most serious fears were entertained for the army command- ed by that officer. His force after being joined by Col. Long, consisted of about fifteen hundred continental troops, and the same number of militia. They were dispirited by defeat, without tents, badly armed, and had lost a great part of their stores and baggage. That part of the country was generally much alarmed, and even those who were well affected discovered, as is usual in such circumstances, more inclination to take care of themselves, than to join the army. In this gloomy state of things, it is impossible that any officer could have used more diligence or judgment than was displayed by ISchuyler. After the evacuation of Fort Anne, Burgoyne fouhd it absolutely necessary to suspend for a time all further pur- suit, and to give his army some refreshment. In the present state of things, unable even to look the enemy in the face, it was of unSpeakable importance to the American general to gain time. This short and unavoida- ble interval from action, therefore, was seized by Schuyler, whose head quarters were at Fort Edward, and used to the utmost advantage. The country between Skeensborough and Fort Edward was almost entirely unsettled, covered with thick woods, of a surface extremely rough, and much intersected with creeks and morasses. As far as Fort Anne, Wood-creek was navigable with batteaux ; and artillery, military stores, provisions, and heavy baggage might be transported up it. The first moments of rest, while Burgoyne was reassem- bling his forces at Skeensborough, were employed by Schuy- ler in destroying the navigation of Wood-creek by sinking numerous impediments in its course; and in breaking up the bridges, and otherwise rendering impassible the roads over which the British army must necessarily march. He 288 SCHUYLER. "was also indefatigable in driving all the live stock out of the way, and in bringing from Fort George to Fort Edward, ammunition and other military stores which had been depos- ited at that place, of which his army was in much need, and which it was essential to bring away before the British could remove their gun-boats and artillery into the lake, and pos- sess themselves of the fort. While thus endeavoring to obstruct the march of the en- emy, he was not inattentive to the best means of strength- ening his own army. Re-inforcements of regular troops were earnestly solicited. The militia of New-England and New- York were called for, and all his influence in the sur- rounding country was exerted to reanimate the people, and to prevent their defection from the American cause. The evacuation of Ticonderoga was a shock for which no part of the United States was prepared. Neither the strength of the invading army nor of the garrison, had been any where understood. The opinion was common that no re-enforcements had arrived at Quebec that spring, in which case it was believed that no more than five thousand men could be spared from the defence of Canada. Those new raised regiments of New-England and New-York, which had been alloted to the northern department, had been report- ed, and were believed by the commander in chief, and by con- gress, as well as by the community at large, to contain a much greater number of etfectives than they were found actually to comprehend. In additon to' these, the officer commanding the garrison, was empowered to call to his aid such bodies of militia as he might deem necessary for the defence of his post, A very few days before the place was invested, General Schuyler, from an inspection of the muster rolls, had stated the garrison to amount to five thousand men, and the supply of provisions to be abundant. When, therefore, it was un- derstood that a place, on the fortifications of which much money and labor had been expended ; which was considered as the key to the whole western country, and supposed to contain a garrison nearly equal to the invading army, had been abandoned without a siege ; that an immense train of ar- tillery, coiisisting of one hundred and twenty-eight pieces, and all the baggage, military stores, and provisions, had either fallen into the hands of the enemy, or been destroyed ; that the army on its retreat had been attacked, defeated, and dispersed ; astonishment pervaded all ranks of men ; and the dbnduct of the officers was almost universally condemi^- SCHUYLER, 289 c^. Gongr-^ss directed a recall of all ihe gejier.ais of ^;lIe department, and an inquiry into their conduct. Through New-England especially, the most maHgnant aspersions were cast on them ; and General Schuyler, who, from some unknown cause, had never been viewed with favor in that part of the continent, was involved in the common charge qf treachery, to which this accumulation of unlocked for Calamity was very generally attribured by the mass of the people. On the representations of General Washington, the recall of the officers was suspended until he should be of opinion that the state of things would admit of such a measure ; and on a very full inquiry afterwards made into the conduct (jf the generals, they were acquitted of all blame. When the resolutions were passed, directing an inquiry into the conduct of Schuyler and St. Clair, appointing a committee to report on the mode of conducting the inquiry, ftnd, in the meanwhile, recalling them and all the brigadiejrs who had served in that department. General Washington was requested to name a successor to Schuyler. On his Expressing a wish to decline this nomination, and represent- ing the inconvenience of removing all the general officers ; Grates was again directed to repair thither, and take the command ; and the resolntion to recall the brigadiers was .suspended, until the commander in chief should be of opinion that it might be carried into effect with safety. Schuyler retained the command until the arrival of Gates, which was about the 21st of Awgust, and continued his exertions to restore the affairs of the department, which had been so much depressed by the losses consequent on the evacuation of Ticonderoga. That officer felt acutely the disgrace of being recalled in this critical and inlerestino- state of the campaign. " It is," said he in a letter to the commander in chief, " matter of extreme chagrin to me, to be deprived of the command at a time when, soon if ever, we shall probably be enabled to face the enemy ; when we are on the point of taking ground* where they must attack to a disadvantage, should our force be inadequate to facino- them in the field ; when an opportunity will in all probabili- ty occur, in which I might evince that I am not what con- gress have too plainly insinuated by the resolution takino- the command from me." * The islands on the north of the Mohawk. 25 290 SCHITYLER. If enoi b^ attributed to the evacuation of Ticonderoga, certainly no portion of it was committed by Schuyler. His removal from the command was probably unjust and severe, as the measure respected himself."* The patriotism and magnanimity displayed by the ex-gen« eraj, on this occasion, does him high honor. All that could Iiave been effected, to impede the progress of the British anny, had been done already. Bridges were broken up, cause-ways destroyed, trees felled in every direction to re- tard the conveyance of stores and artillery. " On Gates' arrival. General Schuyler, without the slight- est indication of ill-humor, resigned his command, commu- nicated all the intelligence he possessed, and put every in- teresting paper into his hands, simply adding, ' I have done, all that could be done, as far as the means were in my pow- er, to injure the enemy, and to inspire confidence in the sol- diers of our own army, and I flatter myself with some suc- cess ; but the palm of victory is denied me, and it is left to )it>u, General, to reap the fruits of my labors. I will not fail, however, to second your views ; and my devotion to my country will cause me with alacrity to obey all your orders.' He performed his promise, and faithfully did his duty, till the surrender of Burgoyne put an end to the contest. Another anecdote is recorded to his honor. • Gen. Bur- goyne, dining with Gen. Gates immediately after the con- vention of Saratoga, and hearing General Schuyler named among the officers presented to him, thought it necessary to apologize for the destruction of his elegant mansion a few days before, by his orders. ' Make no excuses, General,' was the reply, ' I feel myself more than compensated by the pleasure of meeting you at this table.' "t The court of inquiry, instituted on the conduct of Gen- erals Schuyler and St. Clair, resulted with the highest honor to them. Gen. Schuyler, though not invested with any distinct com- mand, continued to render important services in the milita- ry transactions of New- York, until the close of the war. He was a member of the old congress ; and represented the state of New-York in the senate of the United States, when the present government commenced its operations. In 1797 he was again appointed a senator. * MarshalPs Life of Washington. Garden's Anecdotes. STARK. ,291 He died at Albany, November 18th, 1804, in the seventy- third year of his age. JOHN STARK, Brigadier-Generalin the Araericain Army. General Stark was a native of New-Hampshire, and was born in Londonderry, August 17th, 1728. From his early youth he had been accustomed to the alarm of war, havin.^ lived in that part of the country which was continu- ally subject to the incursions of the savages. While a child he was captured by them, and adopted as one of their own; but after a few years was restored. Arrived at manhood, his manners were plain, honest and severe ; excellently calculated for the benefit of society in the private walks of life : and as a courageous and heroic soldier, he is entitled to a -high rank among those who have been crowned with unfading laurels, and to whom a large share of glory is justly due. He was captain of a company of rangers in the provincial service, during the French war in 1755. . From the commencement of the difficulties with im mother coufitry, until the closing scene of the revolution, our country found in General Stark one of its most reso- lute, independent and persevering defenders. The first call of his country found him ready. When the report of Lex- ington battle reached him, he was engaged at work in his saw-mill : fired with indignation and a martial spirit, he im- mediately seized his musket, and with a band of heroes pro- ceeded to Cambridge. The morning after his arrival he received a colonel's commission, and availing himself of his own popularity, and the enthusiasm of the day, in two hours he enlisted eight hundred men. On the memorable 17th of June, at Breed's Hill, Colonel Stark, at the head of his back-woodsmen of New-Hampshire, poured on the ene^ my that deadly fire from a sure aim, which effected such re- markable destruction in their ranks, and compelled them twice to retreat. During the whole of this dreadful con- flict. Colonel Stark evinced that consummate bravery and intrepid zeal, which entitle his name to perpetual remem* brancQ, 292 STARK. His spirit pervaded his native state, and excited them to the most patriotic efforts. The British General Burgoyiie in one of his letters, observes, — •' That the Hampshire Grants, almost unknown in the last war, now abound in the most active and most rebellious race on the continent, and hang like a gathering storm upon ray left." Distinct from his efforts in rallying the energies of his native state, he obtained great credit in the active operations of the field. At that gloomy period of the revolution, the retreat of Washington through New-Jersey in 1776, when the saviour of our country, apparently deserted of Heaven and by his country, with Jlfe few gallant spirits who gather- ed the closer around him in that darkhooir, precipitately fled before an imperious and victorious enemy — it was on this occasion, that the persevering valor of Stark enrolled him among the firm and resolute defenders of their country 1 and, with them, entitles him to her unceasing gratitude. But as he fearlessly shared with Washington the dark and gloomy night of defeat, so also he participated with him in the joy of a bright morning of victory and hope. In the successful enterprise against Trenton, Stark, then a Colo« nel, acted a conspicuous part, and covered himself with glo- ry. General Wilkinson in his memoirs says, — " I must not withhold due praise from the dauntless Stark, who dealt death wherever he found resistance, and brokedown all op- position before him." Soon after this affair, Colonel Stark, from some supposed injustice towards him on the part of congress, quitted the continental service, and returned to New-Hampshire. " When he was urged by the government of New-Hamp- shire to take the command of their militia, he refused, un- less he should be at liberty to serve or not, under a conti- nental officer, as he should judge proper. It was not a time for debate, and it was known that the militia would follow wherever Stark would lead. The assembly therefore in- vested him with a separate command, and gave him orders to " repair to Charlestown, on Connecticut River ; there to consult with a committee of the New-Hampshire Grants, respecting his future operations, and. the supply of his men with provisions ; to take the command of the militia, and march into the Grants ; to act in conjunction with the troops of that new state, or any other of the states, or of the Uni- ted States, or separately, as it should appear expedient to STARK. 293 him ; for the protection of the people, and the annoyance of the enemy. "*^ Agreeably to his orders, Stark proceeded in a few days to Charlestown ; his men very readily followed ; and as fast as they arrived, he sent them forward to join the troops of Vermont under Colonel Warner, who had taken his situa- tion at Manchester. At that place he joined Warner with about 800 men from New-Hampshire, and found another body of men from Vermont, who put themselves under his command ; and he was at the head of fourteen hundred men. Most of them had been in the two former campaigns, and well officered ; and were in every respect a body of very good troops. Schuyler repeatedly urged Stark to join the troops under his command ; but he declined complying. He was led to this conduct not only by the reasons which have been mentioned, but by a difference of opinion as tp the best method of opposing Burgoyne. Schuyler wished to collect all the American troops in the front, to prevent Burgoyne from marching on to Albany. Stark was of opin- ion that the surest way to check Burgoyne was to have a bo- dy of men on his rear ; ready to fall upon him in that quar- ter, whenever a favorable opportunity should present. — The New-England miliiia had not formed a high opinion of Schuyler, as a general ; and Stark meant to keep himself in a situation, in which he might embrace any favorable oppor- tunity for action, either in conjunction with him, or other- wise ; and with that view intended to hang on the rear of the British troops, and embrace the first opportunity which should present, to make an attack upon that quarter. But Stark assured Schuyler that he would join in any measures necessary to promote the public good, but wished to aToi^. any thing that was not consistent with his own honor ; and if it was thought necessary, he would march to his camp. He wrote particularly, that he would lay aside all private resentment, when it appeared in opposition to the pubUc good. But in the midst of these protestations, he was watch- ing for an opportunity to discover his courage and patriot- ism, by falling upon some part of Burgoyne's army. While the American army was thus assuming a more respectable appearance, General Burgoyne was making ve- ry slow advances towards Albany. From the twenty-eighth of July to the fifteenth of August, the British Array was * Belknap's Hiatory-of New-Hampsliire, 26* ^94 STARK. continually employed in bringing forward batteaux, provifc ions and ammunition, from Fort George to the first naviga- ble part of Hudson's River ; a distance of not more than eighteen miles. The labor was excessive : the Europeans were but little acquainted with the methods of performing it to advantage, and the effect was in no degree equivalent to the expense of labor and time. With all the efforts that Burgoyne could make, encumbered with his artillery and baggage, his labors were inadequate to the purpose of sup- plying the army with provisions for its daily consumption, and the establishme'nt of the necessary magazines. And af- ter his utmost exertions for fifteen days, there was not above four days' provisions in the store, nor above ten batteaux in Hudson's River. In such circumstances, the British general found that it would be impossible to procure sufficient suppli-es of pro- visions by the way of Fort George, and determined to re- plenish his own magazines, at the expense of those of the A-mericans. Having received information that a large quan- tity of stores were laid up at Bennington, and guarded only by the militia, he formed the design of surprising that place : and was made to believe that as soon as a detachment of the royal army should appear in that quarter, it would receive efiectual assistance from a large body of loyalists, who only waited for the appearance of a support, and would in that event come forward and aid the royal cause. Full of these expectations, he detached Colonel Baum, a German officer, with a select body of troops, to surprise the place. His force consisted of about five hundred regular troops, some Canadians, and more than one hundred Indians, with two light pieces of artillery. To facilitate their operations, and to be ready to take advantage of the success of the detach- ment, the royal army moved along the east bank of Hud- son's River and encamped nearly opposite to Saratoga ; having at the same time thrown a bridge of rafts over the river, by which the army passed to that place. With a view to support Baum, if it sould be founcl necessary, Lieuten- ant-Colonel Breyman's corps, consisting of the Brunswick grenadiers, light-infantry and chasseius, were posted at Battenkill. General Stark having received information that a party of Indians were at Cambridge, sent Lieutenant-Colonel Greg, on August the thirteenth, with a party of two hun- dred men, to stop their progress. Towards ijight he was STARK. 295 informed by express that a large body of regulars was in the rear of the Indians, and advancing towards Bennington. On this intelligence, Stark drew together his brigade, and the militia that were at hand, and sent on to Manchester to Colonel Warner, to bring on his regiment ; he sent express- es at the same time to the neighboring militia, to join him with the utmost speed. On the morning of the fourteenth he marched with his troops, and at the distance of seven miles he met Greg on the retreat, and the enemy within a mile of him. Stark drew up his troops in order of battle ; but the eneiny coming in sight, halted upon a very advanta- geous piece of ground, — Baum perceived the American,? were too strong to be attacked with his present force, and sent an express to Burgoyne with an account of his situa- tion, and to have Breyman march immediately to support him. In the mean time small parties of the Americans kept up a skirmish with the enemy, killed and wounded thirty of them, with two of their Indian chiefs, without any loss to themselves. — The ground the Americans had taken, was unfavorable for a general action, and Stark retreated about a mile and encamped. A council of war was held, and it was agreed to send two detachments upon the ene- my's rear, while the rest of the troops should make an at- tack upon their front. The next day the weather was rainy, and though it prevented a general action, there were fre- quent skirmishings in small parties, which proved favorable and encouraging to the Americans, On August the sixteenth, in the morning, Stark was join- ed by Colonel Symonds and a body of militia from Berk- shire, and proceeded to attack the enemy, agreeably to the plan which had been concerted. Colonel Baum in the mean time had entrenched, on an advantageous piece of ground near St. Koicks mills, on a branch of Hoosic River ; and rendered his post as strong as his circumstances and situation would admit. Colonel Nichols was ^etached with two hundred men to the rear of his left, Col. Herrick, with three hundred men to the rear of his right ; both were to join, and then make the attack. Colonel Hubbard and Stickney, with two hundred more were ordered on the right, and one hundred were advanced towards the front to draw the attention of the enemy that way. About three o'clock in the afternoon the troops had taken their situation, and were ready to commence the action. While Nichols and Herrick were bringing their troops together, the ThJians 296 STARK. were alarmed at the prospect, and pushed off between iW two corps ; but received a fire as they were passing, by which three of them were killed, and two wounded. Ni- chols then began the attack, and was followed by all thr other divisions ; those in the front immediately advanced, and in a few minutes the action became general. It lasted about two hours, and was like one continued peal of thun- der. Baum made a brave defence ; and the German dra- goons, after they had expended their ammunition, led by their colonel, charged with their swords, but they were soon overpowered. Their works were carried on all sides, their two pieces of cannon were taken, Colonel Baum himself was mortally wounded and taken prisoner, and all his men, except a few who had escaped into the woods, were either killed or taken prisoners. Having completed the business by taking the whole party, the militia began to disperse, and look out for plunder. But in a few minutes Stark received information that a large re-inforcement was on their march, and within two miles of him. Fortunately at that moment Colonel Warner came up with his regiment from Manches- ter. This brave and experienced officer commanded a re- giment of continental troops, which had been raised in Vermont. Mortified that he had not been in the former engagement, he instantly led on his men against Breyman, and began the second engagement. Stark collected the militia as soon as possible and pushed on to his assistance. The action became general, and the battle continued obsti- nate on both sides till sunset, when the Germans were forced to give way, and were pursued till dark. — They left their two field-pieces behind, and a considerable number were made prisoners. They retreated in the best manner they could, improving the' advantages of the evening and night, to which alone their escape was ascribed. In these actions the Americans took four brass field- pieces, twelve brass drums, two hundred and fifty dragoon tiwords, four ammunition waggons, and about seven hundred prisoners, with their arms and accoutrements. Two hun- dred and seven men were found dead upon the spot, the num- bers of wounded were unknown. The loss of the Americans- was but small ; thirty were slain, and about forty were wound- ed. Stark was not a'little pleased to have so fair an opportuni- ty to vindicate his own conduct. He had now shown that no neglect from congress had made him disaflfected to the A- mercan cause, and that he had rendered a much more import- STARK. 297 antservicje than he could have done byjoimi;g Schuyler, and remaining inactive in his camp. Congress embraced the op- portunity to assign to him his rank, and though he had not given to them any account of his victory, or wrote to them at all upon the subject, on October the fourth, they resolved, — " That the thanks of Congress be presented to General Stark of the New-HampsJiirp militia, and the officers and froopsunder his command, for their brave and successful attack upon, and signal victory over the enemy in their lines at Bennington : and that Brigadier Stark be appointed a brigadier-general in the army of the United States." And never were thanks Piore deserved, or more wisely given to a military officer."* In his official account of the affair, Gen. Stark thus writes : — " It lasted two hours, the hottest I ever saw in my life ; it represented one continual clap of thunder ; how- ever, the enemy were obliged to give way, and leave their field pieces, and all their baggage behind them ; they were all environed within two breast-works with artillery ; but oiir martial courage proved too strong for them. I then gave orders to rally again, in order to secure the victory ; but in a few minutes was informed that there was a large reinforce- ment on their march, within two miles. Colonel Warner's regiment, luckily coming up at the moment, renewed the at- tack with fresh vigor. 1 pushed forward as many of the men as I could to their assistance ; the battle continued ob- stinate on both sides until sunset ; the enemy was obliged to retreat ; we pursued them till dark, and had day lasted an hour longer, should have taken the whole body of them." " On what small events does the popular humor and mil- itary success depend 1 The capture of one thousand Ger- mans by General Washington at Trenton, had served tp wake up, and save the whole continent. The exploit of Stark at Bennington, operated with the same kind of influ- ence, and produced a similar effect. This victory was the first event that had proved encouraging to the Americans in the northern department, since the death of Gen. Mont- gomery. Misfortune had succeeded misfortune, and defeat had followed defeat from that period until now. The pre- sent instance was the first, in which victory had quitted the royal standard, or seemed even to be wavering. She was nt>w found with the American arms, and the effect seemed * Williams' Vermont. 2.^ aTARK. in fact to he greater than the cause. It raised the spirit ot the country to an uncommon degree of animation ; and by shewing the mihtia what they could perform, rendered them wiUing and desirous to turn out and try what fortunes would await their exertions. It had a still greater effect on the royal army. The British generals were surprised to hear that an enemy, whom they had contemplated with no other feelings than those of contempt, should all at once wake up, and discover much of the spirit of heroism. To ad- vance upon the mouth of cannon, to attack fortified lines, to carry strong entrenchments, were exploits which they sup- posed belonged exclusively to the armies of kings. To see a body of American militia, ill dressed, but little disciplined, without cannon, armed only with farmer's guns without bay- onets, and who had been accustomed to fly at their approach; that such men should force the entrenchments, capture the cannon, kill and make prisoners of a large body of the royal army, was a matter of indignation, astonishment, and surprise."* " General Stark volunteered his services under Gen, Gates at Saratoga, and assisted in the council which stipula- ted the surrender of General Burgoyne, nor did he rehn- quish his valuable services till he could greet his native country as an Independent Empire. Gen. Stark was of the middle stature, not formed by nature to exhibit an erect soldierly mien. His manners were frank, and unassuming, but he manifested a peculiar sort of eccentricity and negli- gence, which precluded all display of personal dignity, and seemed to place him among those of ordinary rank in Hfe. His character as a private citizen was unblemished, and he was ever held in respect. For the last few years of his life, he enjoyed a pecuniary bounty from the government. He lived to the advanced age of ninety-three years eiglii months and twenty four days, and died May 8th, 1822.'t *Williams* Vermont, f Thatcher's Journal. ST. CLAIR ^99 A&THUB ST. CIiAZR, Majcrr General io the American Army. G£N, St. Clair was a soldier from his birth. At an early age, while the independent states were yet British colonies, he entered the royal American army, and was commissioned as an ensign. He was actively engaged, during the French war, in the army of Gen. Wolf, and was in the battle carry- ing a pair of colours, in which that celebrated commander was slain, on the Plains of Abraham. He was highly esti- mated, by the distinguished commanders under whom he served, as a young officer of merit, capable of obtaining a liigh grade of military reputation. " After the peace of '63, he sold out, and entered into trade, for which the generosity of his nature utterly disquali- fied him ; he, of course, soon became disgusted with a profitless pursuit, and having married, after several vicissi- tudes of fortune, he located himself in Ligonier valley, west of the Alleghany Mountain, and near the ancient route from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh. In this situation the American revolution found him, sur- rounded by a rising family, in the enjoyment of ease and in- dependence, with the fairest prospects of affluent fortune, the foundation of which had been already established by his intelligence, industry and enterprize. From this peaceful abode, these sweet domestic enjoy- ments, and the flattering prospects which accompanied them, he was drawn by the claims of a troubled country. A man known to have been a military officer, and distinguished for knowledge and integrity, could not, in those times be con- cealed even by his favorite mountains, and therefore, with- out application or expectation on his part, he received the commission of a Colonel in the month of December, 1775, together with a letter from President Hancock, pressing him to repair immediately to Philadelphia. He obeyed the sum- mons, and took leave not only of his wife and children, but in effect of his fortune, to embark in the cause of liberty and the united colonies. — In six weeks he completed the levy of a regiment of 750 men ; six companies of which march- ed in season to join our troops before Quebec ; he followed with the other four in May, and after the unlucky affair at sm ST. CLAIR. Three Rivers, 'by his counsel to Gren. StilUvan at Soi^el, he saved the army we had in Canada."* The active and persevering habits of St. Clair, and the military knowledge, as displayed by him during the Canadi- an campaign, brought him into high repute, and he wbs sub- sequently promoted to the rank of major-general. On all occasions he supported an honorable distinction, and shar- ed largely in the confidence and friendship of the comman- der in chief. The misfortunes attending the early military operations of the northern campaign of 1777, did not fail to bring re- proach upon the characters of those who conducted it. The loss of Ticonderoga and Fort Independence, and the subsequent retreat of Gen. St. Clair, cast a gloom over the minds of patriotic men, and in their consequences gave rise to the malignant passions of the human heart, which were put in motion to depreciate the worth, impair the influence^ and destroy the usefulness of Generals Schuyler and St, Clair. It was proclaimed that they were traitors to their country, and acted in concert with the enemy ; and the ig- norant and the credulous were led to believe that they had received an immense treasure in silver balls, fired by Bur- goyne into St. Clair's camp, and by his order picked up and transmitted to Schuyler, at Fort George ! ! Extravagant as was this tale, it was implicitly believed. At the time of the evacuation of Ticonderoga by St. Clair, which so much exasperated the people, Gen. Schuy- ler was absent upon a different duty, and was totally igno- rant of the fact, though the commanding officer in that dis- trict. Gen. St. Clair, in accordance with the opinion of a council of war, ordered the movement on his own responsi- bility, and thereby saved the state of New-York from Brit- ish domination, and his gallant army from capture. Stung with the injustice of a charge against Gen. Schuyler, for an act for which he alone was responsible, he magnanimously wrote the following letter to the Hon. John Jay, on the sub-* ject:— ''Moses' Creek, July 25, 1775. " Sir, " General Schuyler was good enough to read to me pari of a letter he received last night from you. I cannot recol« * WilkinsoD*s Memoirs. ST. CLAIR. 301 l«ct that any of my officers ever asked my reasons for leav- ing Ticonderoga ; but as I have found the measure much decried, I have often expressed myself in this manner : — " That as to myself I was perfectly easy ; I vi'as conscious of the uprightness and propriety of my conduct, and despised the vague censure of an uninformed populace ;" but had no allusion to an order from Gen. Schuyler for my justification, because no such order existed. " The calumny thrown on Gen. Schuyler, on account of that matter, has given me great uneasiness. I assure you. Sir, there never was any thing more cruel and unjust ; for he knew nothing of the matter until it was over, more than you did at Kingston. It was done in consequence of a consultation with the other general officers, without the pos- sibility of General Schuyler's concurrence ; and had the opinion of that council been contrary to what it was, it would nevertheless have taken place, because I knew it to be impossible to defend the post with our numbers. " In my letter to congress from Fort Edward, in which I gave them an account of the retreat, is this paragraph : — ' It was my original design to retreat to this place, that I might be betwixt General Burgoyne and the inhabitants, and that the militia might have something in this quarter to collect to. It is now effected, and the militia are coming in, so that I have the most sanguine hopes that the progress of the enemy will be checked, and I may have the satisfac- tion to experience, that although I have lost a post, I have eventually saved a state.' " Whether my conjecture is right, or not, is uncertain ; but had our army been made prisoners, which it certainly would have been, the state of New-York would have been much more exposed at present. ■" I proposed to Gen. Schuyler, on my arrival at Fort Ed- ward, to have sent a note to the printer, to assure the peo- ple he had no part in abandoning what they considered their strong holds ; he thought it was not so proper at that time, but it is no more than what I owe to truth and to him to de- clare, that he was totally unacquainted with the matter : and I should be very glad that this letter, or any part of it you may think proper to communicate, may convince the unbelieving. Simple unbelief is easily and soon convinced, 26 SOS ST. CLAIR. but when malice or envy occasions it, it is needless to at- tempt conviction. " I am, Sir, " Your very humble, " and obedient servant. " ARTHUR ST. CLAIR, " Hon. John Jay." Congress, yielding to personal prejudices, and the popu- lar outcry, produced by the evacuation of that post, they passed the following resolutions : — "Resolved, That an inquiry be made into the reasons of the evacuation of Ticonderoga and Mount Indepen- dence, and into the conduct of the general officers who were in the northern department at the time of the evacu- ation. ''Resolved, That Major-General St Clair, who comman- ded at Ticonderoga and Mount Independence, forthwith re- pair to head-quarters." The conduct of congress towards this respectable, able and faithful servant of the republic, was considered alto- gether unwarrantable, and, in tlie result, drew great and de- served odium on its authors. After holding St. Clair in cruel suspense for more than a year, he was permitted to appear before a general court martial, which passed the following sentence of acquittal. : — " qiiaker-Hill, Sept, 29, 1778. " The court having duly considered the charges against Major-General St. Clair, and the evidence, are unmu'mously of opinion, that he is not gutlty of either of the charges preferred against him, and do unanimously acquit him of all and every of them with the highest honor. " B. LINCOLN, Maj. Gen. and President. From this time. Gen. St. Clair continued in the service of his country until the close of the war. Soon after the establishment of the national government. Gen. St. Clair was appointed Governor of the North West Territory. But he did not long enjoy the calm and quiet of civil life. The repeated success of the Indians, on the western frontier, ST. CLAIR. 303 had emboldened them lo repeat and extend their incursions to an alarming degree. " The frontiers were in a most deplorable situation. For their relief, congress sanctioned the raising of an additional regiment ; and the President was authorized to cause a bo- dy of two thousand men, under the denomination of levies, to be raised for six months, and to appoint a major-general, and a brigadier-general, to continue in command as long as he should think their services necessary. St. Clair, who was then governor of the territory, north-west of the Ohio, and, ag such, officially the negotiator with the adjacent In- dians, was appointed commander-in-chief of this new milita- ry establishment. Though every exertion was made to re- cruit and forward the troops, they were not assembled in the neighborhood of Fort Washington, until the month of Sep- tember ; nor was the establishment then completed. The object of the expedition was, to destroy the Indian villages, on the Miami ; to expel the savages from that coun- try ; and to connect it with the Ohio, by a chain of posts. — The regulars, proceeding northwardly, from the Ohio, estab- hshed. at proper intervals, two forts, one named Hamilton, and the other Jefferson, as places of deposit and security. These were garrisoned with a small force ; and the main body of the army, about two thousand men, advanced to- wards the Indian settlements. As they approached the ene- my, about sixty militia-men deserted, in ^ibody. To prevent the mischiefs, likely to result from so bad an example. Ma- jor Hamtramck was despatched, with the first regiment, to pursue the deserters. The army was reduced, by this de- tachment, to about fourteen hundred effective men ; but, nevertheless, proceeded on their march, and encamped, on elevated ground, about 15 miles south of the Maimi. The Indians commenced an attack on the militia in front. These instantly fled in disorder, and rushing into the camp, occa- sioned confusion among the regulars. The officers of the latter exerted themselves to restore order ; but with very inconsiderable success. The Indians improved the advan- tage they had gained. They were seldom seen, but in the act of springing from one cover to another ; for they fired from the ground, or under shelter of the woods. Advan- cing in this manner, close to the lines of their adversaries, and almost to the mouths of their field-pieces, they continu- ed the contest, with great firmness and intrepidity. Gen. St. Clair, though sufiering under a painful disease. 304 ST. CLAIR. and unable to mount or dismount a horse, without assistance, dehvered his orders with judgment, and perfect seJf-posses- sion. The troops had not been in service long enough to acquire discipline ; and the want of it increased the difficul- ty of reducing them to order, after they had been broken. The officers, in their zeal to change the face of affairs, ex- posed themselves to imminent danger, and fell in great num- bers. Attempts were made to retrieve the fortune of the day, by the use of the bayonet. Col. Darke made a success- ful charge on a part of the enemy, and drove them four hun- dred yards ; but they soon rallied. In the mean time. Gen. Butler was mortally wounded. Almost all the artillerists were killed, and their guns seized, by the enemy. Col. Darke again charged with the bayonet, and the artillery was recovered. While the Indians were driven back in one point, they kept up their fire from every other, with fatal ef- fect. Several corps charged the Indians with partial suc- cess ; but no general impression was made upon them. To save the remnant of his army, was all that could be done by St. Clair. After some hours of sharp fighting, a re- treat took place. The Indians pursued, for about four miles, when their avidity for plunder called them back to the camp, to share the spoil. The vanquished troops fled about thirty miles, to 1 ort Jefferson. There they met Major Hamtramck, with the first regiment ; but this additional force would not warrant an attempt to turn about, and face the victors. The Vv'ounded were left there, and the army retreated to Fort Washington. The loss in this defeat was great ; and particularly .so among the officers. Thirty eight of these were killed on the field ; and five hundred and ninety-three non-commissioned officers and privates were slain or missing. Twenty-one commissioned officers and upwards of one hundred privates were wounded. Among the dead was the gallant General Butler, who had repeatedly distinguished himself in the war of the revolution. Several other brave officers, who had successfully fought for the independence of their country, fell on this fatal day. Among the wounded, were Lieuten- ant-Colonels Gibson and Darke, Major Butler, and Adjutant Sargent, officers of distino;uished merit. Neither the num- ber of Indians engaged, nor their loss, could be exactly as- certained. The former was supposed to be from one thou- SULLIVAN. 305 sand to fifteen hundred, and the latter far short of what was sustained by St. Clair's army."* Shortly after this unfortunate expedition, Gen. St. Clair resigned his commission in the array, and retired into pri- vate life, and thus remained until the close of his life, Au- gust 31st, 1818. Major-General in the American Army. General Sullivan v/as a native of New-Hampshire, where he resided before the revolution, and attained to a high degree of eminence in the profession of the law. He was a member cf the first congress in 1774, but on the com- ■mencement of hostilities, preferring a military commission, he relinquished the fairest prospects of fortune and fame, and appeared among the most ardent patriots, and intrepid war- riors. In 1775 he was appointed a brigadier-general, and imme- diately joined the army at Cambridge, and soon after ob~ tained the command on Winter Hill. The next year he was ordered to Canada, and on the death of Gen. Thomas^ the command of the army devolved on him. The situation of the army in that quarter, was inexpressibly distressing ; destitute of clothing, dispirited by defeat, and constant fa- tigue, and a large proportion of the troops sick with the small pox. " By his great exertions and judicious manage- ment he meliorated the condition of the army, and obtained general applause. On his retiring from that command, Ju- ly 12, 1776, the field officers thus addressed him. " It is to you, sir, the public are indebted for the preservation of their property in Canada. It is to you we owe our safety thus far. Your humanity will call forth the silent tear, and ftie grateful ejaculation of the sick. Your universal impartiali- ty, will force the applause of the wearied soldier." In August, 1776, he was promoted to the rank of major- general, and soon a^Tter, was with Major-General Lord Stir- ling, captured by the British in the battle on Long-lsland„ General Sullivan being paroled, was sent by General Howe vyith a message to Congress, after which he returned to ^Ramsay's United States. 26* 306 SULLIVAN. New- York. In September he was exchanged for JMajor- General Prescott. We next find him in command of the right division of our troops, in the famous battle at Trenton, and he acquitted himself honorably on that ever memora- ble day. In August, 1777, without the authority of congress, or the commander in chief, he planned and executed an expe- dition against the enemy on Staten Island. Though the enterpiize was conducted with prudence and success in part, it was said by some to be less brilliant than might have been expected, under his favorable circumstances ; and as that act was deemed a bold assumption of responsibility, and reports to his prejudice being in circulation, a court of in- quiry was ordered to investigate his conduct. The result was an honorable acquittal, and congress resolved that the result so honorable to General Sullivan is highly pleasing to congress, and that the opinion of the court be published, in justification of that injured officer. In the battles of Brandywine and at Germantown, in the autumn of 1777, General Sullivan commanded a division, and in the latter conflict his two aids were killed, and his own conduct was so conspicuously brave, that Gen. Wash- ington, in his. letter to congress, concludes with encomi- ums on the gallantry of Gen. Sullivan, and the whole right wing of the army, who acted immediately under the eye of his Excellency, In August, 1778, General Sullivan was sole commander of an expedition to the island of Newport, in co-operation with the French fleet under the Count D'Estaing. The Marquis de La Fayette and Gen. Greene, volunteered their services on the occasion. The object of the expedition was defeated, in consequence of the French fleet being driven off by a violent storm. By this unfortunate event the enemy were encouraged to engage our army in battle, in which they suffered a repulse, and General Sullivan finally effected a s&fe retreat to the main. This retreat, so ably executed, without confusion, or the loss of baggage, or stores, increas- ed the military reputation of General Sullivan, and redounds to his honor as a skilful commander. The bloody tragedy, acted at Wyoming, in 1778, had de- termined the commander in chief, in 1779, to employ a large detachment from the continental army to penetrate into the heart of the Indian country, to chastise the hostile tribes and their white associates and adherents, for their cruel aggres- SULLIVAN. 307 sions on the defenceless inhabitants. The command of this expedition, was committed to Major-Gen. Sullivan, with ex- press orders to destroy their settlements, to ruin their corps, and make such thorough devastations, as to render the coun- try entirely uninhabitable for the present, and thus to com- pel the savages to remove to a greater distance from our frontiers. Gen. Sullivan had under his command several brigadiers and a well chosen army, to which were attached a number of friendly Indian warriors. — With this force he penetrated about ninety miles through a horrid swampy wilderness and barren mountainous deserts, to Wyoming, on the Susque- hanna Ptiver, thence by water to Tioga, and possessed him- self of numerous towns and villages of the savages. During this hazardous expedition, General Sullivan and his army encountered the most complicated obstacles, re- quiring the greatest fortitude and perseverance to surmount. He explored an extensive tract of country, and strictly ex- ecuted the severe, but necessary orders he had received. A considerable number of Indians were slain, some were captured, their habitations were burnt and their plantations of corn and vegetables laid waste in the most effectual man- ner. " Eighteen villages, a number of detached buildings, one hvndred and sixty thousand bushels of corn, and those fruits and vegetables, which conduce to the comfort and subsistence of man, were utterly destroyed. Five weeks were unremittingly employed in this work of devastation." On his return from the expedition, he and his army re- ceived the approbation of congress. It is remarked on this expedition, by the translator of M. Chastelleux's travels, an Englishman then resident in the United States, that the instructions given by Gen. Sullivan to his officers, the order of march he prescribed to his troops, and the discipline he had the ability to maintain, would have done honor to the most experienced ancient or modern generals. At the close of the campaign of 1779, General Sullivan, in consequence of impaired health, resigned his commission in the army. Congress, in accepting of his resignation, passed a resolve, thanking him for his past services. His military talents and bold spirit of enterprise were universal- ly acknowledged. He was fond of display, and his person- al appearance and dignified deportment commanded respect. After his resignation, he resumed his professional pursuits at the bar, and was much distinguished as a statesman, pel- 30i WARNER. itician and patriot. He acquired very considerable pron- ciency in general literature, and an extensive knowledge oi men and the world. He received from Harvard University, a degree of Master of Arts, and from the University of Dartmouth, a degree of Doctor of Laws. He was one of the convention who formed the state constitution for New- Hampshire, was chosen into the first council, and was after- wards elected chief magistrate in that state, and he held the office for three years. In September, 1789, he was appoint- ed Judge of the District Court, for the district of New- Hampshire, and conthiued in the office till his death, in J 795,"* Colonel in the American Army. '' Among the persons who have performed important ser- vices to the state of Vermont, Col. Seth Warner deserves to be remembered with respect. He w^as born at Woodbury, in the Colony of Connecticut, about the year 1744, of hon- est and respectable parents. Without any other adyanta- ges for an education than what are to be found in the com- mon schools of the town, he was early distinguished by the solidity and extent of his understanding. About the year 1 763, his parents purchased a tract of land in Bennington, and soon after removed to that town with their family. In the uncultivated state of the country, in the fish, with which the rivers and ponds were furnished, and in the game, with which the woods abounded, young Warner found a variety of objects suited to his favorite inclinations and pursuits ; and he soon became distinguished as a fortunate and indefatiga- ble hunter. His father, Captain Benjamin Warner, had a strong incli- nation to medicinal inquiries and pursuits ; ^ my, pressed on to Quebec, and on December 31st was slain in in an attempt to carry the city by storm. — This event gave an alarm to all the northern part of the colonies ; and it be- came necessary to raise a reinforcement to march to Quebec in the midst of winter. The difficulty of the business suited the genius and ardor of Warner's mind. Ho was at Woodbury in Connecticut when he heard the news of Montgomery's defeat and death : he instantly repaired to Bennington, raised a body of men, and marched in the 312 WARNER. midst of winter to join the American troops at Quebec, The campaign during the winter proved extremely distres- sing to the Americans : in want of comfortable clothing, barracks and provision, most of them were taken by the small-pox, and several died. At the opening of the spring, in May 1776, a large body of British troops arrived at Que- bec to relieve the garrison. The American troops were forced to abandon the blockade, with circumstances of great distress and confusion. Warner cliose the most difficult part of the business, remaining always with the rear, picking up the lame and diseased, assisting and encouraging those who were the most unable to take care of themselves, and generally kept but a few miles in advance of t4ie British, who were rapidly pursuing the retreating Americans from post to post. By steadily pursuing this conduct, he brought off most of the invalids; and with this corps of the infirm and diseased, he arrived at Ticonderoga, a few days after the body of the army had taken possession of that post. Highly approving his extraordinary exertions, the Amer- ican Congress, on July 6, 1776, the day after they had de- clared independence, resolved to raise a regiment out of the troops which had served with reputation in Canada. Warner was appointed colonel, Safford lieutenant-colonel of this regiment ; and most of the other officers were per- sons who had been distinguished by their opposition to the claims and proceedings of New-York. By this appointment he was again placed in a situation perfectly agreeable to his inclination and genius ; and in conformity to his orders he repaired to Ticonderoga, where he remained till the close of the campaign. On January 16, 1777, the convention of the New-Hamp- shire Grants declared the whole district to be a sovereign and independent state, to be known and distinguished ever after by the name of Vermont. The committee of safety in New-York were then sitting, and on January 20th, they announced the transaction to congress, complaining in high terms of the conduct of Vermont, censuring it as a danger- ous revolt and opposition to lawful authority ; and at the same time remonstrating against the proceedings of con- gress in appointing Warner to the command of a regiment independent of the legislature, and within the bounds of that state ; " especially, said they, as this Colonel Warner hath been constantly and invariably opposed to the legisla- ture of this state, and hath been, on that account, proclaim- WARNER. 313 ed an outlaw by the late government thereof. It is absolute- ly necessary te recall the commissions given to Col. Warner and the officers under him, as nothing else will do us jus- fice." No measures were taken by congress at that time, either to interfere in the civil contest between the two states, or to remove the colonel from his command. Anx- ious to eflfect this purpose, the convention of New- York wrote further on the subject, on March 1st, and among oth- er things declare, " that there was not the least probability that Col. Warner could raise such a number of men as would be an object of public concern." Congress still de- clined to dismiss so valuable an officer from their service. On June 23d, congress was obliged to take up the contro- versy between New-York and Vermont ; but instead of pro- ceeding to disband the colonel's regiment, on June 30th, * they resolved, " that the reason which induced congress to form that corps, was, that many officers of different states who had served in Canada, and alleged that they could soon raise a regiment, but were then unprovided for, might be re- instated in the service of the United States." Nothing Can give us a more just idea of the sentiments which the American congress entertained of the patriotic and military virtues of the colonel, than their refusing to give him up to the repeated solicitations and demands of so respectable and powerful a state, as that of New-York. The American army stationed at Ticonderoga were forced to abandon that fortress, on July 6, 1777, in a very precipi- tate and irregular manner. The colonel with his regiment retreated along the western part of Vermont, through the towns of Qrwell, Sudbury, and Hubbardton. At the last of these towns, the advanced corps of the British army overtook the rear of the American troops, on the morn- ing of the 7th of July. The American army, all but part of three regiments, were gone forward ; these were part of Hale's, Francis', and Warner's regiments. The enemy attacked them with superior numbers, and the highest pros- pect of success. Francis and Warner opposed them with great spirit and vigor ; and no officers could have discover- ed more courage and firmness than they displayed through the whole action. Large re-enforcements of the enemy^ arriving, it became impossible to make any effectual opposi- tion. Francis fell in a most honorable discharge of his duty. Hale surrendered with his regiment. Surrounded on every side by the enemy, but calm and undaunted, Colonel War- 27 SI 4 WARNER. jier fought his way through all opposition, brought off" the troops that refused to capitulate with Hale, checked the en- emy in their pursuit, and contrary to all expectation, arrived safe with his troops at Manchester. To the northward of that town the whole country was deserted. The colonel determined to make a stand at that place ; encouraged by his example and firmness, a body of the militia soon joined him ; and he was once more in a situation to protect the inhabitants, harrass the enemy, and break up the advanced parties. On the 16th of August, the vicinity of Bennington be- came the seat of a memorable battle. Colonel Baum had been despatched by General Burgoyne to attack the Amer- ican troops and destroy the magazines at Bennington. General Stark, who commanded at that place, had intelli- gence of the approach of the enemy ; and sent orders on the morning of the 1 6th to Col. Warner at Manchester, to march immediately to his assistance. In the mean time Stark with the troops which were assembled at Bennington, had attacked the enemy under Col. Baum, and after a se- vere action had captured the whole body. Just as the action was finished, intelligence was received that a large re-inforcement of the enemy had arrived. Fatigued and exhausted by so long and severe an action, Stark was doubt- ful whether it was possible for his troops to enter immedi- ately upon another battle with a fresh body of the enemy. At that critical moment Warner arrived with his troops from Manchester. Mortified that he had not been in the action, and determined to have some part in the glory of the day, he urged Stark immediately to commence another action. Stark consented, and the colonel instantly led on his men to battle. — The Americans rallied from every part of the field, and the second action became as fierce and decisive as the first. The enemy gave way in every direction ; great num- bers of them were slain, and the rest saved themselves alto- gether by the darkness of the night. Stark ascribed the last victory very much to Colonels Warner and Herrick ; and spoke in the highest terms of their superior information and activity, as that to which he principally owed his success. The success at Bennington gave a decisive turn to the af- fairs of that campaign. Stark, Warner and the other offi- cers, with their troops, joined the army under General Gates. Victory every where followed the attempts of the northern army : and the campaign terminated in the sur- AVARNER. 315 render of Burgoyne and his whole army, at Saratoga, on October 17, 1777. The contest in the northern department being in a great ineasure decided by the capture of Burgoyne, Warner had no farther opportunity to discover his prowess in defence of his beloved state ; but served occasionally at different pla- ces on Hudson's River, as the circumstances of the war re- quired, and alv/ays with reputation. Despairing of success in the northern parts, the enemy carried the war into the sourthern states ; and neither New-York nor Vermont any longer remained the places of distinguished enterprise. But such had been the fatigues and exertions of the colonel, that when he returned to his family in Bennington, his constitu- tion, naturally firm an vigorous, appeared to be worn down ; and nature declined under a complication of disorders, oc- casioned by the excessive labor and sufferings he had passed through. Most of those men who have been engaged with uncom- mon ardor in the cause of their country, have been so swallowed up with the patriotic passion, as to neglect that attention to their private interests which other men pursue as the ruling passion. Thus it proved with Col. Warner : intent at first upon saving a state, and afterwards upon sa- ving a country, his mind was so entirely engaged in those pursuits, that«he had not made that provision for his family, which to most of the politicians and land-jobbers was the ultimate end of all their measures and exertions. With a view the better to support his family he removed to Wood- bury : where in the year 1785, he ended an active and useful life, in high estimation among his friends and country- men. His family had derived little or no estate from his servi- ces. After his death they applied to the general assembly of Vermont for a grant of land. The assembly, with a spirit of justice and generosity, remembered the services of Col. Warner, took up the petition, and granted a valuable tract of land to his widow and family : a measure highly konorable to the memory of Colonel Warner, and of that assembly."* '^Wilhams' Vermort* 316 WARREN. JOSZIFH VTARHEir, Major General in the American Army. "Joseph Warren was born in Roxbury, near Boston, in the year 1741. His father was a respectable farmer in that place, who had held several municipal offices, to the accep- tance of his fellow-citizens. Joseph, with several of his brothers, was instructed in the elementary branches of knowledge, at the public grammar-school of the town, which was distinguished for its successive instructors of superior attainments. In 1765, he entered college, where he sus- tained the character of a youth of talents, fine manners, and of a generous, independent deportment, united to great per- sonal courage and perseverance. An anecdote will illus^- trate his fearlessness and determination at that age, when character can hardly be said to be formed. Several stu- dents of Warren's class shut themselves in a room to ar- range some college affairs, in a way which they knew was contrary to his wishes, and barred the door so efiectually that he could not without great violence force it : but he did not give over the attempt of getting among them ; for per- ceiving that the window of the room in which they were assembled was open, and near a spout which extended from the roof of the building to the ground, he went to the top of the house, slid down to the eaves, seized the spout, and when he had descended as far as the wmdow, threw himself into the chamber among them. At that instant the spout, which was decayed and weak, gave way and fell to the ground. He looked at it without emotion, said that it had served his purpose, and began to take his part in the busir ness. A spectator of this feat and narrow escape related this fact to me in the college yard, nearly half a century af- terwards ; and the impression it made on his mind was so strong, that he seemed to feel the same emotion as though it happened but an hour before. On leaving college in 1759, Warren turned his attention to the study of medicine, under the direction of Doctor Lloyd, an eminent physician of that day, whose valuable life has been protracted almost to the present time. War- ren was distinguished very soon after he commenced prac- tice ; for when, in 1764, the small-pox spread in Boston he was among the most successful in his method of treating that disease, which was then considered the most dreadful WARREN. 311- scourge of the human race ; and tlie violence of which had baffled the efforts of the learned faculty of medicine from the time of its first appearance. From this moment he stood high among his brethren, and was the favorite of the people ; and what he gained in their good will he never lost. His personal appearance, his address, his courtesy and his humanity, won the way to the hearts of all ; and his know- ledge and superiority of talents, secured the conquest. A bright and lasting fame in his profession, with the attend- ant consequences, wealth and influence, were within his reach, and near at hand : but the calls of a distracted coun- try were paramount to every consideration of his own in- terests, and he entered the vortex of politics, never to re- turn to the peaceful course of professional labor. The change in public opinion had been gradually prepar- ing the minds of most men for a revolution. This was not openly avowed : amelioration of treatment for the present, ^nd assurances of kindness in future, were all that the colo- nies asked from Great Britain — but these they did not re- ceive. The mother country mistook the spirit of her chil- dren, and used threats, when kindness would have been the best policy.. When Britain declared her right to direct^ govern and tax us in any form, and at all times, the colonies reasoned, remonstrated and entreated for a while; and when these means did not answer, they defied and resisted. The political writers of the province had been active and busy, but they were generally screened by fictitious names, or sent their productions anonymously into the world : but the time had arrived, when speakers of nerve and boldness were wanted to raise their voices against oppression in eve- ry shape. Warren possessed first rate qualities for an ora- tor, and had early declared in the strongest terms his politi- cal sentiments, which were somewhat in advance of pub- lic opinion ; for he held as tyranny all taxation, which could be imposed by the British parliament upon the colonies. In times of danger, the people are sagacious, and cling to those who best can serve them ; and every eye was on hiiKi in every emergency ; for he had not only the firmness and decision they wished for in a leader, but was prudent and wary in all his plans. His first object was to enlighten the people ; and then he felt sure of engaging their feelings in the general cause. He knew when once they began, it would be impossible to tread back — ^independence only would satisfy the country. With an intention of directiiig 27* 318 WARREN. public seiitiment, without appearing to be too active, he met frequently with a considerable number of substantial me- chanics, and others in the middling classes of society, who were busy in politics. This crisis required such a man as they found him to be ; one who could discern the signs of the times, and mould the ductile materials to his will, and at the same time seem only to follow in the path of others. His letter to Barnard, which attracted the notice of gov- ernment, had been written several years before, in 1768; but in some form or other he was constantly enlightening the people by his pen : but it is now difficult, and of no great importance to trace him in the papers of that period. The public was not then always right in designating the authors of political essays. In the different situations in which he was called to act, he assumed as many characters as fable has ever given to the tutelar god of his profession, and like him, in every one of them he retained the wisdom to guide, and the power to charm. At one time he might be found restraining the impetuosty, aud bridling the fury of those hot-headed politicians who felt more than they reasoned, and dared to do more than became men. Such was \u> versatility, that he turned from these lectures of caution and prudence, to asserting and defending the most bold and un- disguised principles of liberty, and defying in their vt^ry teeth the agents of the crown. Twice he was elected to deliver the oration on the 5th of March, in commemoration of the massacre ; and his orations are among the most dis- tinguished, produced by that splendid list of speakers who addressed their fellow-citizens on this subject, so interesting to them all. In these productions, generally, the immedi- ate causes of this event were overlooked, and the remote ones alone were discussed. Here they were on safe ground ; for tyranny, in its incipient stages, has no excuse from opposition ; but in its march, it generally finds some plausible arguments for its proceedings, drawn from the very resistance it naturally produces. These occasions gave the orators a fine field for remark, and a fair opportu- nity for effect. The great orators of antiquity, in their speeches, attempted only to rouse the people to retain what they possessed. Invective, entreaty and pride had their ef- fect in assisting these mighty masters to influence the peo- ple. They were ashamed to lose what their fathers left them, won by their blood, and so long preserved by their wisdom, theit virtues and their courage. Our statesmen WARREN. 319 had a hard task to perform : for they were compelled to call on the people to gain what they had never enjoyed — an in- dependent rank and standing among the nations of th^ world . His next oration was delivered March 6th, 1775. It was at his own solicitation that he was appointed to this duty a second time. The fact is illustrative of his character, and worthy of remembrance. Some British officers of the army then in Boston, had pubhcly declared that it should be at the price of the life of any man to speak of the event of March 5, 1770, on that anniversary. Warren's soul took fire at such a threat, so openly made, and he wished for the honor of braving it. This was readily granted ; for at such a time a man would probably find but few rivals. Many who would spurn the thought of personal fear, might be apprehensive that they would be so far disconcerted as to forget their dis- course. It is easier to fight bravely, than to think clearly or correctly in danger. Passion sometimes nerves the arm to fight, but disturbs the regular current of thought. The day came, and the weather was remarkably fine. The Old South Meeting-House was crowded at an early hour. The Bri- tish officers occupied the aisles, the flight of steps to the pulpit, and several of them were within it. It was not pre- cisely known whether this was accident or design. The or- ator, with the assistance of his friends, made his entrance at the pulpit window by a ladder. The officers, seeing his coolness and intrepidity, made way for him to advance and address the audience. An awful stillness preceded his ex- ordium. Each man felt the palpitations of his own heart, and saw the pale, but determined face of his neighbor. — The speaker began his oration in a firm tone of voice, and proceeded with great energy and pathos. Warren and his friends were prepared to chastise contumely, prevent dis- grace, and avenge an attempt at assassination. The scene was subhme ; a patriot, in whom the flush of youth, and the grace and dignity of manhood were combin- ed, stood armed in the sanctuary of God, to animate and en- courage the sons of hberty, and to hurl defiance at their op- pressors. The orator commenced with the early history of the country, described the tenure by which we held our hb- erties and property — the aflection we had constantly shown the parent country, and boldly told them how, and by whom these blessings of life had been violated. There was in this appeal to Britain— in tlfis description of suffering, agony and 320 WARREN. horror, a calm and high-souled defiance which must have chilled the blood of every sensible foe. Such another hour has seldom happened in the history of man, and is not sur- passed in the records of nations. The thunders of Demos- thenes rolled at a distance from Phillip and his host — and Tully poured the fiercest torrent of his invective v^^hen Cata- linc was at a distance, and his dagger no longer to be fear- ed : but Warren's speech was made to proud oppressors resting on their arms, whose errand it was to overawe, and whose business it was to fight. If the deed of Brutus deserved to be commemorated by history, poetry, painting and sculpture, should not this in- stance of patriotism and bravery be held in lasting remem- brance ? If he " Tiiat struck the foremost man of all this world,"^ was hailed as the first of freemen, what honors are not due to him, who, undismayed, bearded the British lion, to show the world what his countrymen dared to do in the cause of liberty ? If the statue of Brutus was placed among those of the gods, who were the preservers of Roman freedom, should not that of Vv'arren's till a lofty niche in the temple reared to perpetuate the remembrance of our birth as a nation ? If independence was not at first openly avowed by our leading men at that time, the hope of attaining it was fondly cherished, and the exertions of the patriots pointed to thi3 end. The wise knew that the storm, which the political Prosperos were raising, would pass away in blood. With these impressions on his mind, Warren for several years was preparing himself by study and observation, to take a con- spicuous rank in the military arrangements which he knew must ensue. On the 18th of April, 1775, by his agents in Boston, he discovered the design of the British commander to seize or destroy our few stores at Concord. He instantly despatch- ed several confidential messengers to Lexington. The late venerable patriot, Paul Revere, was one of them. This gen- tleman has given a very interesting account of the difficul- ties he encountered in the discharge of this duty. The alarm was given, and the militia, burning with resentment, were at day-break, on the 19th, on the road to repel insult and aggression. The Drama was opened about sunrise, within a few yards of the House of God, in Lexington. War- WARREx\. 321 ren liastened to the field of action, in the full ardor of liis soul, and shared the dangers of the day. While pressing on the enemy, a musket ball took off a lock of his hair close to his ear. The lock was rolled and pinned, after the fashion of that day, and considerable force must have been necessa- ry to have cut it away. The people were delighted with his cool, collected bravery, and already considered him as a leader, whose gallantry they were to admire, and in whose talents they were to confide. On the 14th of June, 1776, the Provincial Congress of Massachusetts made him a ma- jor-general of their forces, but previous to the date of hit- commission, he had been unceasing in his exertions to main- tain order and enforce discipline among the troops, which had hastily assembled at Cambridge, after the battle of Lex- ington. He mingled in the ranks, and by every method and argument strove to inspire them with confidence, and sue* ceeded in a most wonderful manner in imparting to them a portion of the flame which glowed in his own breast. At such a crisis genius receives its birth-right — the homage of inferior minds, who for self preservation are willing to be di* rected. Previous to receiving the appointment of major- general, he had been requested to take the office of physi- cian-general to the army, but he chose to be where wounds were to be made, rather than where they were to be healed. Yet he lent his aid and advice to the medical department of the army, and was of great service to them in their organi- zation and arrangements. He was at this time president of the Provincial Congress, having been elected the preceding year a member from the town of Boston. In this body he discovered his extraordin- ary powers of mind, and his peculiar fitness for responsible offices at such a juncture. Cautious in proposing measures, he was assiduous in pursuing what he thought, after mature deliberation, to be right, and never counted the probable cost of a measure, when he had decided that it was necessa- ry to be taken. When this congress, which was sitting at Watertown, adjourned for the day, he mounted his horse and hastened to the camp. Every day ' he bought golden opin- ions of all sorts of men ;' and when the troops were called to act on Breed's Hill, he had so often been among them, that his person was known to most of the soldiers. Several respectable historians have fallen into some errors in describing the battle in which he fell, by giving the com- mand of the troops on that day to Warren, when he was on- 32:2 WARREIS. ly a volunteer in the fight. He did not arrive on the battle ground until the enemy had commenced their movements for the attack. As soon as he made his appearance on the field, the veteran commander of the day, Colonel Prescott, desired to act under his directions, but Warren declined ta- king any other part than that of a volunteer, and added that he came to learn the art of war from an experienced sol- dier, whose orders he should be happy to obey. In the bat- tle he was armed with a musket, and stood in the ranks., now and then changing his place to encourage his felloW soldiers by words and example. He undoubtedly, from the state of hostilities, expected soon to act in his high military capacity, and it was indispensable, according to his views, that he should share the dangers of the field as a common soldier with his fellow citizens, that his reputation for brave- ry might be put beyond the possibility of suspicion. The wisdom of such a course would never have been doubted, if he had returned in safety from the fight. „ In such a strug- gle for independence, the ordinary rules of prudence and caution could not govern those who were building up their names for future usefulness by present exertion. Some maxims drawn from the republican writers of antiquity were worn as their mottos. Some precepts descriptive of the charms of liberty, were ever on their tongues, and some classical model of Greek, or Roman patriotism, was con- stantly in their minds. Instances of great men mixing in the ranks of common soldiers, were to be found in ancient times, when men fought for their altars and their homes. The cases were parallel, and the examples were imposing. When the battle was decided, and our people fled, War- ren was one of the last who left the breast-work, and was slain within a few yards of it, as he was slowly retiring. He probably felt mortified at the event of the day, but had he known how dearly the victory was purchased, and how little honor was gained by those who won it, his heart might have been at rest. Like the band of Leonidas, the vanquished have received by the judgment of nations, from which there is no appeal, the imperishable laurels of victors. His death brought a sickness to the heart of the community ; and the people mourned his fall, not with the convulsive agony of a betrothed virgin over the bleeding corse of her lover — but with the pride of the Spartan mother, who in the intensity of her grief, smiled to see that the wounds whence life had flown, were on the breast of her son — and was satisfied tiiat WARREN. 323 lie had died in defence of his country. The worth of the victim, and the horror of the sacrifice, gave a higher valne to our liberties, and produced a more fixed determination to preserve them. The battle of Bunker Hill has often been described, and of late its minutest details given to the public, but never was the military, moral and political character of that great event more forcibly drawn, than in the following extract from the North American Review, for July, 1818 : — " The incidents and the result of the battle itself, were most important, and indeed, most wonderful. As a mere battle, few surpass it in whatever engages and interests the attention. It was fought, on a conspicuous eminence, in the immediate neighbourhood of a populous city ; and conse- quently in the view of thousands of spectators. The at- tacking army moved over a sheet of water to the assault The operations and movements were of course all visible and distinct. — Those who looked on from the houses and heights of Boston had a fuller view of every important operation and event, than can ordinarily be had of any battle, or than can pos- sibly be had of such as are fought on a more extended ground, or by detachments of troops acting in diflferent places, and at different times, and in some measure independently of each other. — When the British columns wore advancing to the attack, the flames of Charlestown, (fired as is gener- ally supposed, by a shell,) began to ascend. The specta- tors, far out-numbering both armies, thronged and crowded on every height and every point which afforded a view of the scene, themselves constituted a very important part of it. " The troops of the two armies seemed like so many com- batants in an amphitheatre. — The manner in which they should acquit themselves, was to be judged of, not as in other cases of military engagements, by reports and future history, but by a vast and anxious assembly already on the spot, and waiting with unspeakable concern and emotion the progress of the day. " In other battles the recollection of wives and children has been used as an excitement to animate the warrior's breast and nerve his arm. Here was not a mere recollec- tion, but an actual presence of them, and other dear connex- ions, hanging on the skirts of the battle, anxious and agita- ted, feeling almost as if wounded themselves by every blow of the enemy, and putting forth, as it were, their own ;i24 WARREN. strength, and all the energy of their own throbbing bo- soms, into every gallant effort of their warring friends. *' But there was a more comprehensive and vastly more important view of that day's contest than has been mention- ed, — a view indeed, which ordinary eyes, bent intently on what was immediately before them, did not embrace, but which was perceived in its full extent and expansion by minds of a higher order. Those men who were at th^ head of the colonial councils, who had been engaged for years in the previous stages of the quarrel with England, and who had been accustomed to look forward to the future, were well apprised of the magnitude of the events likely to hang on the business of that day. They saw in it not only a battle, but the beginning of a civil war, of unmeasured ex* rent and uncertain issue. All x\merica and all England were likely to be deeply concerned in the ' consequences. The individuals themselves, who knew full well what agen- cy they had had, in bringing affairs to this crisis, had need of all their courage ; — not that disregard of personal safety, in which the vulgar suppose true courage to consist, but that high and fixed moral sentiment, that steady and decided purpose, which enables men to pursue a distant end, with a full view of the difficulties and dangers before them, and with a conviction that, before they arrive at the proposed end, should they ever reach it, they must pass through evil report, as well as good report and be liable to obloquy, as well as to defeat. " Spirits, that fear nothing else, fear disgrace ; and this danger is necessarily encountered by those who engage in civil war. Unsuccessful resistance is not only ruin to its authors, but is esteemed, and necessarily so, by the laws of all countries, treasonable. This is the case, at least till re- sistance becomes so general and formidable as to assume the form of regular war. But who can tell, when resistance commences, whether it will attain even to that degree of success ? Some of those persons who signed the declara- tion of Independence in 1776, described themselves as signing it, " as with halters about their necks." If there were groundsTor this remark in 1776, when the cause had become so much more general, how much greater was the hazard, when the battle of Bunker Hill was fought ? " These considerations constituted, to enlarged and libe- ral minds, the moral sublimity of the occasion ; while to the outward senses the movement of armies, the roar of artil- WAliRETN. 526 lery, the brilliancy of the reflection of a sunimer*^g sun, from the burnished armor of the British columns, and the flamed of a burning town, made up a scene of extraordinary gran« deur." This eminence has become sacred ground. It contains in its bosom the ashes of the brave who died fightin?j to de- fend their altars and their homes. Strangers from all coun- tries visit this spot, for it is associated in their memories N\ith Marathon and Plataea, and all the mighty struggles of determined freemen. Our citizens love to wander over tliis field — the aged to awake recollections, and the youthful to excite heroic emotions. The battle-ground is now all plain- ly to be seen — the spirit of modern improvement, which would stop the streams of Helicon to turn a mill, and cause to be felled the trees of Paradise to make a rafter, has yet spared this hallowed height. If " the days of chivalry be gone for ever," and the high and enthusiastic feelings of generosity and magnanimity be not 60 widely diffused as in more heroic ages, yet it cannot be denied but that there have been, and still are, individuals whose bosoms are warmed with a spirit as glowing and ethe- real as ever swelled the heart of "mailed knight," who in the ectasies of love, religion and martial glory, joined the war-cry on the plains of Palestine, or proved his steel on the infidel foe. The history of every revolution is interspersed with brilliant episodes of individual prowess. The pages of our own history, when fully written out, will sparkle pro- filsely with those gems of romantic valor. The calmness and indifference of the veteran " in clouds of dust and seas of blood," can only be acquired by long acquaintance with the trade of death ; but the heights of Charlestown will bear eternal testimony how suddenly, in the cause of freedom the peaceful citizen can become the invincible warrior — stung by oppression, he springs forward ffom his tranquil pursuits, undaunted by opposition, and un- dismayed by danger, to fight even to death for the defence of his rights. Parents, wives, children, and country, all the liallowed properties of existence, are to him the talismaft that takes fear from liis heart, and nerves his arm to victory. In the requiem over those who have fallen in the cause of their country, which " Time with his own eternal lips shall sing," rlnh paX^^ e(f W^Arei: ^hall be distinctly heard. 28 326 WARREiN^ The blood of those patriots who have fallen in the de- fence of Republics has often "cried from the ground" against the ingratitude of the country for which it was shed. No monument was reared to their fame ; no record of their virtues written ; no fostering hand extended to their off- spring — but they and their deeds were neglected and forgot- tten. Towards Warren there was no ingratitude — our country is free from this stain. Congress were the guardi- tlns of his honor, and remembered that his children weife unprotected orphans. Within a year after his death, Con- g^ress, passed the following resolutions : — ' That a monument be erected to the memory of General Warren, in the town of Boston, with the following inscrip- tioh : IN HONOR OF JOSEPH WARREN, Major-General of Massachusetts Bay. He devoted his Life to the liberties of his country. And in bravely defending them, fell an early victim in the BATTLE OF BUNKER HILL, June 17, 1775. The Congress of the United States, as an acknowledg- ment of his services and distinguished merit, have erected this monument to his memory. It was resolved likewise, ' That the eldest son of Gene- ral Warren should be educated from that time at the expense of the United States.' On the first of July, 1780, congress, lecognizing these former resolutions, further resolved, 'That it should be recommended to the executive of Massachu- setts Bay to make provision for the maintenance and educa- tion of his three younger children. And that congress, would defray the expenses to the amount of the half pay of a major-general, to commence at the time of his death, and continue till the youngest of the children should be of age.' WAYNE. 327 -The part of the resolutions relating to the education of tfie children, was carried into effect accordingly. The monu- ment is not yet erected, but it is not too late. The shade of Warren will not repine at this neglect, while the ashes pf Washington repose without grave-stone or epitaph."* ANTHoxnr vTAirxTz:, Major-General in the American Army. • Anthony Wayne, a major-general in the American ar- my, occupies a conspicuous station among the heroes and patriots of the American revolution. He was born in the year 1745, in Chester county, in the state, then colony, of Pennsylvania. His father, who was a respectable farmer, was many years a representative for the county of Chester, in the general assembly, before the revolution. His grand- father, who was distinguished for his attachment to the principles of liberty, bore a captain's commission under King William, at the battle of the Boyne. Anthony Wayne succeeded his father as representative for the county of Chester, in the year 1773 ; and from his first appearance in public life, distinguished himself as a firm and decided pat- riot. He opposed, with much abiUty, the unjust demands of the mother country, and in connexion with some gentle- men of distinguished talents, was of material service in pre- paring the way for the firm and decisive part which Penn- sylvania took in the general contest. In 1776, he was appointed to the command of a regiment, which his character enabled him to raise in a few weeks, in his native county. In the same year, he was detached un- der General Thompson into Canada. In the defeat which followed, in which Gen. Thompson was made a prisoner, Col. Wayne, though wounded, displayed great gallantry and good conduct, in collecting and bringing off the scattered and broken bodies of troops. In the campaign of 1776, he served under Gen. Gates, at Ticonderoga, and was highly esteemed by that officer for both his bravery and skill as an engineer. At the close pf that campaign he was created a brigadier-general. At the battle of Brandywine, he behaved with his usual ♦Biographical Sketcbea. bravery, and for a long time opposed iJie progress of the enemy at Chad's Ford. In this action, the inferiority ol' the Americans in numbers, discipline and arms, gave theni little chance of success ; but the peculiar situation of tho public mind was supposed to require a battle to be risked : the ground was bravely disputed, and the action was not considered as decisive. The spirit of the troops was pre- served by a belief that the loss of the enemy had equalled their own. As it was the intention of the American com- jnander in chief to hazard another action on the first favor- able opportunity that should offer, Gen. Wayne was detach- ed with his division, to harass the enemy by every means in his power. The British troops were encamped at Tredyffrin, and Gen. Wayne was stationed about three miles in the rear of their left wing, near the Paoli tavern, and from the pre- cautions he had taken, he considered himself secure ; but about eleven o'clock, on the night of the 20th September, Major-General Gray, having driven in his pickets, suddenly attacked him with bayonets. Wayne, unable to withstand the superior number of his assailants, was obhged to retreat; but formed again at a ^mall distance, having lost about one hundred and fifty killed and wounded. As blame was at- tached by some of the officers of the army, to General Wayne, for allowing himself to be surprised in this manner, he demanded a court martial, which, after examining the necessary evidence, declared that he had done every thing to be expected from an active, brave, and vigilant officer ; and acquitted him with honor. A neat marble monument has been recently erected on the battle ground, to the memory of the gallant men who fell on the night of the 20th September, 1777. Shortly after was fought the battle of Germantown, in which he ^^greatly signalized himself, by his spirited manner of leading his men into action. In this action he had one "iiorse shot under him, and another as he was mounting; and at the same instant, received slight wounds in the left foot and left hand. In all councils of war, Gen. Wayne was distinguished fgr supporting the most energetic and decisive measures. In the one previous to the battle of Monmouth, he and Gene- ral Cadwalader were the only officers decidedly in favor of attacking the British army. The American officers are said to have been influenced by the opinions of the Euro- peans. Th^ Baron De Steuben, and Gjenerats Le^ and D\\ WAYNE. 329 Portail, whose military skill was in high estimation, had warmly opposed an engagement, as too hazardous. But General Washington, whose opinion was in favor of an en- gagement, made such disposition as would be most likely to lead to it. In that action, so honorable to the American arms, General Wayne was conspicuous in the ardor of his attack. General Washington, in his letter to congress, observes, • Were I to conclude my account of this day's transactions without expressing my obligations to the officers of the ar- my in general, I should do injustice to their merit, and vio- lence to my own feelings. They seemed to vie with each other in manifesting their zeal and bravery. The catalogue of those who distinguished themselves, is too long to ad- mit of particularizing individuals. I cannot, however, for- bear mentioning Brig. Gen. Wayne, whose good conduct and bravery, throughout the whole action, deserves partic- ular commendation."* " Among the many exploits of gallantry and prowess which shed a lustre on the fame of our revolutionary army, the storming of the fort at Stony-Point has always been con- sidered one of the most brilliant. ' To Gen. Wayne, who commanded the light-infantry of the army, the execution of the plan was intrusted. Secre- cy was deemed so much more essential to success than numbers, that it was thought unadvisable to add to the force already on the lines. One brigade was ordered to com- mence its march, so as to reach the scene of action in time to cover the troops engaged in the attack, in case of any un- looked for disaster ; and Maior Lee, of the lioht-draoroons, who had been eminently useful^in obtaining the intelligence which led to the enterprise, was associated with General Wayne, as far as cavalry could be employed in such a ser- vice. The night of the 15th of July, 1779, was fixed on for the assault ; and it being suspected that the garrison would probably be more on their guard towards day, twelve was tihosen for the hour. Stony-Point is a commanding hill, projecting far into tlie Hudson, which washes three fourths of its base. The re- maining fourth is, in a great measure, covered by a deep marsh, commencing near the river on the upper side, iani. continuing into it below. Over this marsh, ther^ is only «ne crossing place, but at its junction with the river is a^n- -*Am. Biographical Djdfonarj. 330 WAYiNli:. dy beach passable at low tide. On the summit of this hill was erected the fort, which was furnished with a sufficient number of heavy pieces of ordnance. Several breast-works and strong batteries were advanced in front of the principal work, and about half way down the hill, were two rows of abattis. The batteries wore calculated to command the beach, and the crossing place of the marsh, and to rake and enfilade any column which might be advancing from either of those points towards the fort. In addition to these de- fences, several vessels of war were stationed in the river, so as, in a considerable degree, to command the ground at the foot of the hill. The fort was garrisoned by about six hundred men, under die command of Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson. At noon of the day preceding the night of the attack, the light-infantry commenced their march from Sandy-beach ^ distant fourteen miles from Stony-Point, and passing through an -excessively rugged and mountainous country, arrived about eight in the afternoon at Spring Steel's, one and a half miles from the fort, where the dispositions for the assault were made. Tt was intended to attack the works on the right and left Hanks at the same instant. The regiment of Febi^er. and of Meiggs, with Major Hull's detachment, formed the right column, and Butler's regiment, with two companies under Major Murfree, formed the left. One hundred and fifty vol- unteers, led. by Lieutenant-Colonel Fleury and Major Po- sey, constituted the van of the right ; and one hundred vol untecrs under Major Stura't, composed the van of the left A-t half past eleven, the two columns moved on to the charge, ihe van of each with unloaded muskets and fixed bayonets. They were each preceded by a folorn hope of twenty mei) the one commanded by Lieutenant Gibbon, and the other by Lieutenant Knox, whose duty it was to remove the abat- tis, and other obstructions, in order to open a passage for the columns which followed close in the rear. Proper measures having been taken to secure every indi- vidual on the route, who could give intelligence of their ap- proach, the Americans reached the marsh undiscovered, But unexpected difficulties having been experienced insur- mounting this and other obstructions in the way, the assault did not commence until twenty minutes after twelve. Botii columns then rushed forward, under a tremendous fire of -nnis'ketry and graja^ ^ hot. Suraipunting every oin^tax^e,,. the}/ ^T(D)it^_iyiriiT(a af s" T (D) iTiE«vr foiitt / i¥ WAYNE. 331 eiUered the works at the point of the bayonet, and \yithoii| having dicharged a single piece, obtained complete posses* siou of the post. The humanity displayed by the conquerors was not less conspicuous, nor less honorable, than their courage. Not a single individual suffered after resistance had ceased. All the troops engaged in this perilous service manifest- ed a degree of ardor and impetuosity, which proved them to be capable of the most difficult enterprises ; and all distin- guished themselves whose situation enabled them to do so. Colonel Fleury was the first to enter the fort, and strike the British standard. Major Posey mounted the works al- most at the same instant, and was the first to give the watch- word — 'The fort's our own.' Lieutenants Gibbon and Knox performed the service allotted to them, with a degree of intrepidity which could not be surpassed. Out of twen- ty men who constituted the party of the former, seventeen were killed or wounded. The loss sustained by the garrison was not considerable The return made by Lieutenant-Colonel Johnson, repre- sented their dead at only twenty, including one captain, and their wounded at six officers, and sixty-eight privates. The return made by General Wayne states their dead at sixty three, including two officers. This difference may be ac- counted for, by supposing, that among those Colonel John- son supposed to be missing, there were many killed. The prisoners amounted to five hundred and forty-three, among whom were one lieutenant-colonel, four captains, and twen- ty subaltern officers. The military stores taken in the fori were also considerable. The loss sustained by the assailants was by no meaiV*' proportioned to the apparent danger of the enterprise. The killed and wounded did not exceed one hundred men. Gen- eral Wayne himself, who marched at the head of Febiger's regiment in the right column, received a slight wound ia the head, which stunned him for a time, but did not com- pel him to leave the column. Being supported by his aids, he entered the fort with the regiment. Lieutenant-Colon^i -Hay was also among the wounded.'* The intrepidity, joined with humanity, its noblest compari-' ion, displayed on that occasion by General Wayne and hiB brave followers, cannot be too liighly esteemed nor too fre- qufinfly commemorated. * ,M"frsftairs E^ife ot Wa'shingCo;?! S32 WAYNE. General orders for the attack. The troops will march at o'clock and move by the light, making a short halt at the creek, or run, on this side, next Clements' ; every officer and non-commisioned officer will remain with, and be answerable for every man in his platoon ; no soldier to be permitted to quit his ranks on any pretext whatever, until a general halt is made, and then to be attended by one of the officers of the platoon. When the head of the troops arrives in the rear of tha hill, Colonel Febicjer will form his regiment into a solid col- umn of a half platoon in front as fast as they come up. Co- lonel Meiggs will form next in Colonel Febiger's rear, and Major Hull in the rear of Meiggs', which will form the right column. Colonel Butler will form a column on the left of Febiger, and Major Murphy in his rear. Every officer and soldier will then fix a piece of white paper in the most conspicuous part of his hat or cap, as a mark to distinguish them from the enemy. At the word march, Colonel Fleury will take charge of one hundred and fifty determined and picked men, proper- j ly officered, with arms unloaded, placing their whole de- pendence on fixed bayonets, who will move about twenty paces in front of the right column, and enter the sally-port ; he is to detach an officer and twenty men a little in front, whose business v»'ill be to secure the sentries, and remove the abattis and obstructions for the column to pass through. The column will follow close in the rear witli shouldered muskets, led by Colonel Febiger and General \V ayne in per- son : — when the works are forced, and not before, the victo- rious troops as they enter will give the watch-word with repeated and loud voices, and drive the enemy from their works and guns, which will favor the pass of the whole troops ; should the enemy refuse to surrender, or attempt to make their escape by water or otherwise, effectual means must be used to efiect the former and prevent the latter. Colonel Eutler will move by the route (2,) preceded by one hundred chosen men with fixed bayonets, properly offi- cered, at the distance of twenty yards in front of the col- umn, which will follow under Col. Butler with shouldered muskets. These hundred will also detach a proper officer a'Kd tXYeny men a little in front to remove the obstructions ; WAYNE. 3a3 ^j5 soon as they gain the works, they will also give and con- tinue the watchword, which will prevent confusion and nais'- take. If any soldier presume to take his musket from his shoul- der, or to fire, or begin the battle until ordered by his prop- er officer, he shall be instantly put to death by the officer next him ; for the misconduct of one man is not to put the whole troops in danger or disorder, and he be suffered to pass with hfe. After the troops begin to advance to the works, the strict- est silence must be observed, and the closest attention paid to the commands of the officers. The general has the fullest confidence in the bravery and fortitude of the corps that he has the happiness to command — the distinguished honor conferred on every officer and soldier who has been drafted into this corps by his excellen- cy General Washington, the credit of the states they res- pectively belong to, and their own reputations, will be such powerful motives for each man to distinguish himself, that the general cannot have the least doubt of a glorious victo- ry ; and he hereby most solemnly engages to reward the first man that enters the works with five hundred dollars, and immediate promotion, to the second four hundred dollars, to the third three hundred dollars, to the fourth two hun- dred dollars, and to the fifth one hundred dollars ; and will represent the conduct of every officer, and soldier, who distinguishes himself in this action, in the most favorable- point of view to his excellency, whose greatest pleasure is in rewarding merit. But should there be any soldier so lost to every feeling of honor as to attempt to retreat one single foot, or skulk in the face of danger, the officer next to him is immediately tp put him to death, that he may no longer disgrace the nam? of a soldier, or the corps or state he belongs to. As General Wayne is determined to share the dangers oj the night — so he wishes to participate in the glory of thf day in common with his fellow soldiers."* " Immediately after the surrender of Stony Point, Gen. Wayne transmitted to the commander in chief, the following laconic letter : — *Afra!et;tJQ Magazine, 3.S4 WAYNE. "Stmy Point, July 16, 1779. " 2 o'clock, A. M. '^ Dear General — The fort and garrison, with Col Johur son, are ours ; our officers and men behaved like men de- termined to be free. " Yours most sincerely, " Anthonv Wayne. • Gen. Washington." In the campaign of 1781, in which Lord Cornwallis, and a British army were obliged to surrender prisoners of war, he bore a conspicuous part. His presence of mind never failed him in the most critical situations. Of this he gave an eminent example on the James River. Having been deceived by some false information, into a belief that the British army had passed the river, leaving but the rear guard behind, he hastened to attack the latter before it should also have effected its passage ; but on pushing through a morass and wood, instead of the rear guard, he found the whole British army drawn up close to him. His situation did not admit of a moment's deliberation. Con- ceiving the boldest to be the safest measure, he immediate- ly led his small detachment, not exceeding 800 men, to the charge, and after a short, but very smart and close firing, in which he lost 118 of his men, he succeeded in bringing off the rest under cover of the wood. Lord Conwallis, sus- pecting the attack to be a feint, in order to draw liim into an ambuscade, would not permit his troops to pursue. The enemy, having made a considerable head in Geor- gia, Wayne was despatched by Gen. Washingten to take command of the forces in that state, and, after some san- guinary engagements, succeeded in establishing security and order. For his services in that state the legislature presented liim with a valuable farm. On the peace, which followed shortly after, he retired to private life; but in 1789, we find him a member of the Pennsylvania convention, and one of those in favor of the present federal constitution of the United States. In the year 1792, he was appointed to succeed General St. Clair, who had resigned the command of the army enga- ged against the Indians, on our western frontier. Wayne formed an encampment at Pittsburgh, and such exemplary dtsclplitr? was Introduced among the n?w troops, that, on Wayne; aas their advancfe into the Indian country, they appear^ likfe veterans. The Indians had collected in great numbers, and it was necessary not only to rout them, but to occupy their court- try by a chain of posts, that should, for the future, check their predatory incursions. Pursuing this regular and sys- tematic mode of advance, the autumn of 1793, found Gen- eral Wayne with his army, at a post in the wilderness, called Greensville, about six miles in advance of Fort Jefferson, where he determined to encamp for the winter, in order to make the necessary arrangements for opening the campaign to effect early in the following spring. After fortifying his camp, he took possession of the ground on which the Amer- icans had been defeated in 1791, which he fortified also, and called the work Fort Recovery. Here he piously col- lected, and, with the honors of war, interred the bones of the unfortunate, although gallant victims of the 4th Novem- ber, 1791. The situation of the army, menacing the In- dian villages, effectually prevented any atack on the white Settlements. The impossibility of procuring the necessary supplies prevented the march of the troops till the summer. On the 8th of August, the army arrived at the junction of the Rivers Au Glaize and Miami of the Lakes, where they greeted works for the protection of the stores. About thir- ty miles from this place, the British had formed a post, in the vicinity of which the Indians had assembled their whole force. On the 13th, the army again advanced down tho Miami, and on the 18th, arrived at the Rapids. On the fol- lowing day they erected some works for the protection of the baggage. The situation of the enemy was reconnoiter- ed, and they were found posted in a thick wood, in the rear of the British fort. On the 20th, the army advanced to the attack. The Miami covered the right flank, and on the left v/ere the mounted volunteers, commanded by General Todd. After marching about five miles, Major Price, who fed the advance, received so heavy a fire from the Indians, who were stationed behind trees, that he was compelled to fall back. The enemy had occupied a wood in front of the British fort, which, from the quantity of fallen timber, could could not be entered by the horse. The legion was imme- diately ordered to advance with trailed arms, and rouse them from their covert ; the cavalry under Capt. Campbell, were directed to pass between the Indians and the river, while the volunteers, led by General Scott, made a circuit a36 ARNOLD. \p turn their flank. So rapid, however, was the charge of tlio legion, that before the rest of the army could get into action, the enemy were completely routed, and driven through the woods for more than two miles, and the troops halted within gun-shot of tlie British fort. All the Indians* houses and corn-fields were destroyed. In this decisive ac- tion, the whole loss of General Wayne's army, in killed and wouded, amounted only to one hundred and seven men. As hostilities continued on the part of the Indians, their whole country was laid waste, and forts established, which effectu- ally prevented their return. The success of this engagement destroyed the enemies" power ; and, in the following year, Gen. Wayne concluded a definitive treaty of peace with them. A life of peril and glory w^as terminated in December, 1796. He had shielded his country from the murderous tomahawk of the savage. He had established her boun- daries. He had forced her enemies to sue for her protec- tion. He beheld her triumphant, rich in arts, and potent in .irms. What more could his patriotic spirit wish to see ? He died in a hut at Presque Isle, aged about fifty-one years, and was buried on the shore of Lake Erie. A few years since his bones were taken up by his son, T&aac Wayne, Esq.^ and entombed in his native county ; and by direction of the Pennsylvania State Society of the Cincinnati, an elegant monument was erected. It is to be seen within the cemetry of St. David's Church, situated in Chester county. It is constructed of white marble, of thf? most correct symmetry and beauty,"* The Traitor. ' Benedict Arnold, a major-general in the Americrin army during the revolutionary war, and infamous for desert- ing the cause of his country, was early chosen captain of a i volunteer compar.y in New-Haven, Connecticut, where he Jived, After hearing of the battle of Lexington, he imme- diately marched, with his company, for the American head'' quarfers, and reached Cambridge, April 29, 1775. * Am. Biof. DicttoDary. i ARNOLD. 837 He immediately waited on the Massachusetts committee of safety, and informed them of the defenceless state of Ticonderoga. The committee appointed him a colonel, and commissioned him to raise four hundred men, and to take that fortress. He proceeded directly to Vermont, and when he arrived at Castleton, was attended by one servant only. Here he joined Colonel Allen, and on the 10th of May the fortress was taken. In the fall of 1775, he was sent by the commander in chief to penetrate through the wilderness of the District of Maine, into Canada. £>n the 16th of September, he commenced his march, with about one thousand men, con- sisting of New-England infantry, some volunteers, a compa- ny of artillery, and three companies of riflemen. One di- vision was obliged to return, or it would have perished by hunger. After sustaimng almost incredible hardships, he in six weeks arrived at Point Levi, opposite to Quebec. The appearance of an army, emerging from the wilderness, threw the city into the greatest consternation. In this mo- ment of surprise, Arnold might probably have become mas- ter of the place ; but the small crafts and boats in the river "were removed out of his reach. It seems that his approach was not altogether unexpect- ed. He had imprudently, a number of days before, sent forward a letter to a friend, by an Indian, who betrayed him. A delay of several days, on account of the difficulty of pas- sing the river, was inevitable ; and the critical moment was lost. On the 14th of November, he crossed the St. Lawrence in the night ; and, ascending the precipice which Wolfe had climbed before him, formed his small corps on the height, near the memorable Plains of Abraham. With only about seven hundred men, one third of whose muskets had been rendered useless in the march through the wilderness, suc- cess could not be expected. After parading some days on the heights near the town, and sending two flags to summon the inhabitants, he retired to Point aux Trembles, twenty miles above Quebec, and there waited the arrival of Mont- gomery, who joined him on the first of December. The city was immediately besieged ; but the best measures had been taken for its defence. On the morning of the last day of the year, an assault was made on the one side of the city, by Montgomery, who was killed. At the same time, Colonel Arnold, at the head of about three hundred and 29 jjb AHIXOLD. iiffy men, made a desperate attack on the opposite side. Advancing witli the utmost intrepidity along the St. Charles, llirough a narrow path, exposed to an incessant fire of grape- shot and musketry, as Jio approaclicd the first barrier, he re- ceived a musket-ball in the leg, which shattered the bone ; and he was carried off to the camp. Tliouah the attack was unsuccessful, the blockade of Quebec was continued till May, 1776 ; when the army, which was in no n^ondition to risk an assault, was removed to a more defensible posi- tion. Arnold was compelled to relinquish one post after another till the 18th of June,|^when he quitted Canada, After this period, he exhibited great bravery in the command of the American fleet on Lake Champlain, In August, 1777, he relieved Fort Schuyler, under the command of Colonel Gansevoort, which was invested by Colonel St, Leger,yvuth an army of from fifteen to eighteen hundred men. In the battle near Still-water, September the nineteenth, he conducted himself with his usual intre- pidity ; being engaged, incessantly, for four hours. In the action of October the seventh, after the British had been driven into the lines, Arnold pressed forward, and, under a tremendous fire, assaulted their works Srom right to left. The intrenchments were at length forced, and with a few men he actually entered the works ; but his horse being killed, and he himself badly wounded in the leg, he found it necessary to withdraw, and as it was now almost dark, to de- sist from the attack. Being rendered unfit for active service, in consequence of his wound, after the recovery of Philadelpliia, he was ap- pointed to the command of the American garrison. When he entered the city, he made the house of Governor Penn, the best house in the city, his head-quarters. This he fur- nished in a very costly manner, and lived far beyond his in- come. He had wasted the plunder, which he had seized at Montreal, in his retreat from Canada ; and at Philadelphia, he was determined to make new acquisitions. He laid his hands on every thing in the city, which could be considered the property of those who were unfriendly to the cause of his country. He was charged with oppression, extortion, and enormous charges upon the public, in his accounts ; and with applying the public money and property to his own private use. Such was his conduct, that he drew upon him- self the odium of the inhabitants, not only of the city, but of the province in general. He was engaged in trading i ARNOLD. 339 speculations, and had shares in several privateers ; but was unsuccessful. From the judgment of the commissioners, who had been appointed to inspect his accounts, and who had rejected above half the amount of his demands, he appealed to con- gress ; and they appointed a committee of their own body to examine and settle the business. The committee con- firmed the report of the commissioners, and thought they allowed him more than he had any right to expect or demand. By these disappointments he became irritated, and he gave full scope to his resentment. His invectives against con- gress were not less violent, than those which he had before thrown out against the commissioners. He was, however, soon obhged to abide the judgment of a court martial, upon the charges exhibited against him by the executive of Penn- sylvania ; and he was subjected to the mortification of re- ceiving a reprimand from Washington. His trial commen- ced in June, 1778, but such were the delays occasioned by the movements of the army, that it was not concluded until the 26th of January, 1779. — The sentence of a reprimand was approved by congress, and was soon afterwards carried into execution. Snch was the humiliation, to which General Arnold was reduced, in consequence of yielding to the temptations of pride and vanity, aiKl indulging himself in the pleasures of a sumptuous table and expensive equipage. From this time, probably, his proud spirit revolted from the cause of America. He turned his eyes to West Point as an acquisition, which would give value to treason, while its loss would inflict a mortal wound on his former friends. He addressed himself to the delegation of New-York, in which state his reputation was peculiarly high ; and a mem- ber of conaress from this state, recommended him to Wash- ington for the service which he desired. But this request could not be immediately complied with. The same appli- cation to the commander in chief was made not long after- wards through General Schuyler. Washington observed, that, as there was a prospect of an active campaign, he should be gratified with the aid of General x\rnold in the field, but intimated, at the same time, that he should receive the appointment requested, if it should be more pleasing to him. Arnold, without discovering much solicitude, repaired to camp in the beginning of August, and renewed, in person, 340 ARNOLD. the solicitations, which had been before indirectly made. He was now offered the command of the left wing of the army, which was advancing against New-York, but he de- clined it under pretext, that in consequence of his wounds, he was unable to perform the active duties of the field. Without a suspicion of his patriotism, he was invested with the command of West Point. Previously to his soliciting this station, he had, in a letter to Colonel Robinson, signifi- ed his change of principles, and his wish to restore himself to the favor of his prince, by some signal proof of his repent- ance. This letter opened to him a correspondence with Sir Henry Clinton, the object of which was to concert the means of putting the important post, which he commanded, into the possession of the British general. His plan, it is beheved, was to have^drawn the greater part of his army without the works, under the pretext of fighting the enemy in the defiles, and to have left unguarded a de- signated pass, through which the assailants might securely approach and surprise the fortress. His troops he intend- ed to place, so that they would be compelled to surrender, or be cut in pieces. But just as his scheme was ripe for ex- ecution, the wise Disposer of events, who so often and so remarkably interposed in favor of the American cause, blast- ed his designs. Major Andre, adjutant-general in the British army, was selected as the person, to whom the maturing of Arnold's 1 reason, and the arrangements for its execution sliould be committed. A correspondence was, for some time, carried on between them under a mercantile disguise, and the feign- ed names of Gustavus and Anderson; and at length, to fa- cilitate their communications, the Vulture sloop of war moved up the North River and took a station convenient for the purpose, but not so near as to excite suspicion. An mterview was agreed on, and in the night of ['September the 21st, 1780, he was taken in a boat, which was despatched for the purpose, and carried to the beach without the posts of both armies, under a pass for John Anderson. He met Gen. Arnold at the house of a Mr. Smith. W^hile the con- ference was yet unfinished, day light approached ; and to avoid the danger of discovery, it was proposed, that he should remain concealed till the succeedmg night. He is understood to have refused to be carried within the Amer- ican posts, but the promise made him by Arnold, to respect tfiis objection, v/as not observed. He was carried within ARNOLD. &41 fl)e»i contrary to liis wishes and asainsthis knowledge. He continued with Arnold the succeeding day, and when, on *the following night he proposed to return to the Vulture, the boat-men refused to carry him, because she had, during the day shifted her station, in consequence of a gun having been moved to the shore, and brought to bear upon her. This embarrassing circumstance reduced him to the necessity of endeavoring to reach New-York by land. Yielding, with reluctance, to the urgent representations of Arnold, he laid aside his regimentals, which he had hitherto worn under a surtout, and, receiving a pass from the American general, authorising him, under the feigned name of John Anderson, to proceed on the public service, to the White Plains, or lower, if he thought proper, he set out on his return. He had passed all the guards and posts on the road without sus- picion, and was proceeding to New-York in perfect security, when, on the 23d of September, one of the three militia- men, v/ho were employed with others in scouting parties between the lines of the two armies, springing suddenly from his covert into the road, seized the reins of his bridle, and stopped his horse. Instead of producing his pass, Andre, with a want of self-possession, which can be attribu- ted only to a kind Providence, asked the man hastily, where lie belonged ; and being answered, * to below,' replied im- mediately, ' and so do I.' He then declared himself to be a British officer, on urgent business, and begged that he might not be detained. The other two militia-men comina up at this moment, he discovered Iiis mistake ; but it was too late to repair it. He offered a purse of gold and a val- uable watch, to which he added the jnost tempting promises of ample reward and permanent provision from the govern- ment, if they would permit him to escape ; but his offers were rejected without hesitation. The militia-men, whose names were John Paulding, David Wilhams, and Isaac Vanwert, proceeded to search him. They found concealed in his boots, exact returns, in Ar= nold's hand writing, of the state of the forces, ordnance, and defences at West Point and its dapendencies ; critical remarks on the works, and an estimate of the men ordinarily employed in them, with other interesting papers. Andre was carried before Lieutenant-Colonel Jameson, the officer commanding the scouting parties on the lines, and, regard- less of himself, and only anxious for the safety of Arnold, • he still maintained the character which he had assumed, 342 ARNOLD. and requested Jameson to inform his commading officer that Anderson was taken. An express was accordingly despatched, and the traitor, thus becoming acquainted with his danger, escaped. Major Andre, after his detection, was permitted to send a message to Arnold, to give him notice of his danger ; and the traitor found opportunity to escape on board the Vul- ture, on the 25th of September, 1780, a few hours before the return of Washington, who had been absent on a jour- ney to Hartford, Connecticut. It is supposed however, that he would not have escaped, had not an express to the com- mander in chief, with an account of the capture of Andre, missed him by taking a different road from the one which he travelled."* Arnold, on the very day of his escape, wrote the follow- ing letter to Washington : — '•On board the Vulture, Sept. 25, 1780. " Sir — The heart which is conscious of its own recti- tude cannot attempt to palhate a step which the world may censure as wrong ; I have ever acted from a principle of love to my country, since the commencement of the pre- sent unhappy contest between Great Britain and the colo- nies ; the same principle of love to my country actuates my present conduct, however it may appear inconsistent to the world, who very seldom judges right of any man's ac- tions. " I have no favor to ask for myself I have too often ex- perienced the ingratitude of my country to attempt it ; but from the known humanity of your excellency, I am induced to ask your protection of Mrs. Arnold, from every insult and injury that the mistaken vengeance of my country may expose her to. It ought to fall only on me, she is as good and as innocent as an angel, and is incapable of doing wrong. I beg she may be permitted to return to her friends in Phil- adelphia, or to come to me as she may choose ; from your excellency I have no fears on her account, but she may suf- fer from the mistaken fury of the country. " 1 have to request that the enclosed letter may be de- livered to Mrs. Arnold, and she permitted to write to me. " I have also to ask that my clothes and baggage, which * Amer. Biographical Dictionary. ^«% i^^ -^v iV ,.^ F T 11^ 11^. M '{"^ F- iVl^ B 11'^ j!'-'-' ARNOLD. 343 are of little consequence, may be sent to me ; if required, their value shall be paid in money. " I have the honor to be, &:c. B. ARNOLD. " His Excellency Gen. Washington. " N. B. Injustice to the gentlemen of my family, Col. Varrick, and Major Franks, I think myself in honor bound to declare, that they, as well as Joshua k*mith, Esq. (who I know are suspected) are totally ignorant of any transactions of mine, that they had reason to believe were injurious lo the pubhc." Mrs. Arnold was conveyed to her husband at New- York, and his clothes and baggage, for which he had WTitten, were transmitted to him. " The following is a concise description of thejignres exhib- ited and paraded through the streets of the city of Philadel- phia, two or three days after the affiiir. " A stage raised on the body of a cart, on which was an effigy of Gen. Arnold sitting ; this was dressed in regiment- als, had two faces, emblematical of his traitorous conduct, a mask in his left hand, and a letter in his right from Belze- bub, telling him that he had done all the mischief he could do, and now he must hang himself* At the back of the general, was a figure of the devil, dressed in black robes, shaking a purse of money at the general's left ear, and in his right hand a pitch-fork ready to drive him into hell, as the reward due for the many crimes which his thirst of gold had made him commit. In the front of the stage, and before Gen. Arnold, was placed a large lanthorn of transparent paper, with the con- sequences of his crimes thus delineated, i. e. on one part General Arnold on his knees before the devil, who is pulhng him into the flames — a label from tke general's mouth with these words, '* My dear sir, I have served you faithfully ;" to which the devil replies, " And I'll reward you." On another side, two figures hanging, inscribed, ** The Traitor's Reward," and wrote underneath, " The adjutant-general of the British army, and Joe Smith ; the first hanged as a spy, and the other as a traitor to his country.' And on. the front of the lanthorn was wrote the following : 344 ARNOLD. * Major-General Benedict Arnold, late commander of the fort West Point. The crime of this man is high treason." • He has deserted the important post, West Point, on Hud- son's River, committed to his charge by his excellency the commander in chief, and is gone oft' to the enemy at New- York. His design to have given up this fortress to our enemies, has been discovered by the goodness of the Omniscient Creator, who has not only prevented him from carrying it into execution, but has thrown into our hands Andre, the ad- jutant-general of their army, who was detected in the infa- mous character of a spy. The treachery of the ungrateful general is held up to pub- lic view for the exposition of infamy ; and to proclaim, with joyful acclamation, another instance of the interposition of bounteous Providence. The effigy of thisingrate is therefore hanged (for want of his body) as a traitor to his native country, and a betrayer of the laws of honor. The procession began about four o'clock, in the following order : — Several gentlemen mounted on horseback. A line of continental officers. Sundry gentlemen in a line. A guard of the city infantry. Just before the cart, drums and fifes playing the Rogue's March. Guards on each side. The procession was attended with a numerous concourse of people, who, after expressing their abhorrence of the treason and the traitor, committed him to the flames, and left both the effigy and the original to sink into ashes and oblivion"* " During the exertions whicli were made to rescue Andre from the destruction which threatened him, Arnold had the hardihood to interpose. He appealed to the humanity of the commander in chief, and then sought to intimidate him by stating the situation of many of the principal char- Bcters of South-Carolina, who had forfeited their lives, but * Nilea* KevolutioDo ARNOLD. 345 had hitherto been spared through the clemency of the Brit- ish general. This clemency, he said, could no longer, in justice, be extended to them, should Major Andre suffer." Arnold was made a brigadier-general in the British ser- vice ; which rank he preserved throughout the war. Yet he must have been held in contempt and detestation by the generous and honorable. It was impossible for men of this description, even when acting with him, to forget that he was a traitor, first the slave of his rage, then purchased with gold, and finally secured by the blood of one of the most accomplished officers in the British army. One would supposf^ that his mind could not have been much at ease ; but he had proceeded so far in vice, that perhaps his reflec- tions gave him but little trouble. ' I am mistaken,' says Washington, in a private letter, ' if, at this time, Arnold is undergoing the torments of a mental hell. He wants feel- ing. From some traits of his character, which have lately come to my knowledge, he seems to have been so hacknied in crime, so lost to all sense of honor and shame, that while his faculties still enable him to continue his sordid pursuits, there will be no time for remorse.' Arnold found it necessary to make some exertions to se- cure the attachment of his new friends. With the hope of alluring many of the discontented to his standard, he pub- lished an address to the inhabitants of America, in which he endeavored to justify his conduct. He had encountered tlie dangers of the field, he said, from apprehensions that the rights of his country were in danger. He had acquies- ced in the declaration of independence, though he thought it precipitate. But the rejection of the overtures, made by Great Britain in 1778, and the French alhance, had opened his eyes to the ambitious views of those, who would sacri- fice the happiness of their country to their own aggrandize- ment, and had made him a confirmed loyalist. He artfully mingled assertions, that the principal members of congress held the people in sovereign contempt. This was followed in about a fortnight by a proclamation, addressed ' to the officers and soldiers of the continental army, who have the real interests of their country at heart, and who are determined to be no longer the tools and dupes of congress or of France.' To induce the Ameri- can officers and soldiers to desert the cause which they had embraced, he represented that the corps of cavalry and in- fantry, which he was authorized to raise, would be upon the 346 ARNOLD. same footing with the other troops in the British service ; that he should with pleasure, advance those, whose valor he had witnessed ; and that the private men, who joined hirn should receive a bounty of three guineas each, besides paymeat, at the fall value, for horses, arms, and accoutre- ments. His object was the peace, liberty, and safety of America. • You are promised liberty,' he exclaims, ' but is there an individual in the enjoyment of it saving your op- pressors ? Who among you dare to speak or write what he thinks against the tyranny, which has robbed you of your property, imprisons your persons, drags you to the field of battle, and is daily deluging your country with your blood ?' 'What,' he exclaims again, 'is America now but a land of widows, orphans, and beggars ? As to you, who have been soldiers in the continental army, can you at this day want evidence, that the funds of your country are exhausted, or that the managers have applied them to their private uses ? In either case you surely can no longer continue in their ser- vice with honor or advantage. Yet you have hitherto been their supporters in that cruelty, ^which, with equal indifter- ence to yours, as well as to the labor and blood of others, is devouring a country, that from the moment you quit their colours, will be redeemed from their tyranny.' These proclamations did not produce the effect designed, and in all the hardships, sufferings, and irritations of the war, Arnold remains the solitary instance of an American officer, who abandoned the side first embraced in the con- test, and turned his sword upon his former companions in arms. He was soon despatched by Sir Henry Clinton, to make a diversion in Virginia. With about seventeen hundred men he arrived in the Chesapeake, in January, 1781, and being supported by such a naval force, as was suited to the nature of the service, he committed extensive ravacres on the riv- ers and along the unprotected coasts, ft is said, that while on this expedition Arnold inquired of an American cap- tain whom he had taken prisoner, what the Americans would do with him if he should fall into their hands. The captain at first declined giving him an answer, but upon be- ing repeatedly urged to it, he said, 'Why, sir, if I must an- swer your question, you must excuse my telling you the plain truth : if my countrymen should catch you, 1 believe they would first cui off that lame leg, which was wound: d in tlie cause of freedom and virtue, and bury it v/ith the hon- ARNOLD. 347 ors of war, and afterwards hang the remainder of your body in gibbets.' Tlie reader will recollect that the cap- tain alluded to the wound ilrnold received in one of his legs, at the attack upon Quebec, in 17.76.'"* " The return of Gen, Arnold to New-York from Virgin- ia, did not fix him in a state of inactivity. He was sent on an enterprise against New-London, with a sufficient land and marine force. — The embarkation having passed over from Long Island shore in the night, the troops were landed m two detachments on each side of the harbor, at ten o'clock in the morning of the 6th of September ; that on the Groton side being commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Eyre, and that on New-London side by the general, who met no great trouble. Fort Trumbull and the redoubt, which were intended to cover the harbor and town, not being ten- able, were evacuated as he approached, and the few men in them crossed the river to fort Griswold, on Groton Hill. Arnold proceeded to the town without being otherwise op- posed than by the scattered fire of small parties that had hastily collected. Orders were sent by the general to Eyre for attacking Fort Griswold, that so the possession of it might prevent the escape of the American shipping. The militia, to the amount of one hundred and fifty-seven, col- lected for its defence, but so hastily as not to be fully fur- nished with fire arms and other weapons. As the assail- ants approached, a firing commenced, and the flag staff was soon shot down, from whence the neighboring spectators inferred that the place had surrendered, till the continuance uf the firing convinced them to the contrary. The garri- son defended themselves with the greatest resolution and bravery : Eyre was wounded near the works, and Major Montgomery was killed immediately after, so that the com- mand devolved on Major Broomfield. The British at one time staggered ; but the fort being out of repair, could not be maintained by a handful of men against so superior !^ number as that which assaulted it. After an action of about forty minutes, the resolution of the royal troops car- ried the place by the point of the bayonet. The Ameri- cans had not more than half a dozen killed before the ene- my entered the fort, when a severe execution took place, though resistance ceased. The British oflicer inquired, on his entering the fort, who commanded ? Col. Ledyard an- *Am. Biographical Dictiooary. 518 ARNOLD. swered — ' I did, sir, but you do now ;' and presented him Ins sword. The colonel was immediately run through and kil- led. The slain were seventy-three ; the wounded between thirty and forty, and about forty were carried off prisoners. Soon after reducing the fort, the soldiers loaded a waggon with the wounded, as said, by order of their officers, and set the waggon off from the top of the hill, which is long and very steep ; the waggon went a considerable distance with great force, till it was suddenly stopt, by an apple tree, which gave the faint and bleeding men so terrible a shock that part of them died instantly. About fifteen vessels, with effects of the inhabitants retreated up the river, not- withstanding the reduction of the fort, and four others re- mained in the harbor unhurt ; a number were burnt by the fire's communicating from the stores when in flames. Sixty dweUing houses and eighty-four stores were burned, inclu- ding those on both sides of the harbor and in New-London. The burning of the town was intentional and not accidental. The loss that the Americans sustained in this destruction •was very great ; for there were large quantities of naval stores, of European goods, of East and West India com- modities, and of provisions in the several stores. The Brit- ish had two commissioned officers and forty-six privates kil- led ; eight officers (some of whom are since dead) with one hundred and thirty-five non-commissioned, and privates wounded."* " From the conclusion of the war till his death. Gen. Ar- nold resided chiefly in England. He died in ( loucester place, London, June 14, 1801. His character presents lit- tle to be commended. — His daring courage may excite ad- miration ; but it was a courage without reflection, and without principle. He fought bravely for his country ; and he bled in her cause ; but his country owed him no returns of gratitude, for his subsequent conduct proved, that he had no honest regard to her interests, but was governed by sel- fish considerations. His progress from self-indulgence to treason was easy and rapid. He was vain and luxurious, and to gratify his giddy desires, he must resort to mean- ness, dishonesty, and extortion. These vices brought with them disgrace ; and the contempt into which he fell, awaken- ed a spirit of revenge, and left him to the unrestrained in- fluence of his cupidity and passion. Thus from the high * Niles* -Revolution. ARNOLD. 349 fame to which liis bmvery had elevated him, he desceiideCl -into infamy. Thus too, he furnished new evidence of tlie inftituation of the human mind, in attaching such value to the reputation of a soldier, which may be obtained while the heart is unsoond, and every moral sentiment is entirely ♦ilepraved."* "^'Amer. Biog. Dictionary. 30 BIOGRAPHY OF GILBERT MOTIER LA FAYETTE, Major-Greneral in the Ameriean Continental Army. The family of General Lafayette has long been distin- guished in the history of France. As early as 1422, the Marshal de Lafayette defeated and killed the Duke of Clar- ence at Beauge, and thus saved his country from falling en- tirely into the power of Henry Fifth, of England. His fa- ther fell in the battle of Munden, and therefore survived the birth of his son only two years. These, with many more memorials of his family, scattered through the differ- ent portions of French history for nearly five centuries, are titles to distinction, which it is particularly pleasant to re- collect, when they fall, as they now do, on one so singularly fitted to receive and increase them. General Lafayette himself was born in Auvergne, in the south of France, on the 6th of September, 1757. When quite young, he was sent to the College of Du Plessis at Paris, where he received that classical education, of which, when recently at Cambridge, he twice gave remarkable proof in uncommonly happy quotations from Cicero, suited to circumstances that could not have been foreseen. Some- what later, he was sent to Versailles, where the court con- stantly resided ; and there his education was still further continued, and he was made, in common with most of the young noblemen, an officer in the army. When only be- tween sixteen and seventeen, he was married to the daugh- LA FAYETTE. 35^ ter or the Duke d'Ayen, son of the Duke de Noailles, and grandson to the great and good Chancellor d'Aguesseau ; and thus his condition in life seemed to be assured to him among the most splendid and powerful in the empire. His fortune^ which had been accumulating during a long minor- ity, was vast ; his rank was with the first in Europe ; his connexions brought him the support of the chief persons in France ; and his individual character, the warm, open, and sincere manners, which have distinguished him ever since, and given him such singular control over the minds of men, made him powerful in the confidence of society wherever he went. It was at tliis period, however, that his thoughts and feel- ings were first turned towards these thirteen colonies, then in the darkest and most doubtful passage of their struggle for independence. He made himself acquainted with our agents at Paris, and learned from them the state of our af- fairs. Nothing could be less tempting to him, whether he sought military reputation or military instruction, for our ar- my, at that moment retreating through New- Jersey, and leav- ing its traces in blood from the naked and torn feet of the soldiery as it hastened onward, was in a state too humble to offer either. Our credit, too, in Europe, was entirely gone, so that the commissioners, as they were called, without hav- ing any commission, to whom Lafayette still persisted in of- fering his services, were obliged, at last, to acknowledge that they could not even give him decent means for his con- veyance. " Then," said he, " I shall purchase and fit out a vessel for myself." lie did so. The vessel was prepared at Bordeaux, and sent round to one of the nearest ports in Spain, that it might be beyond the reach of the French gov- ernment. In order more effectually to conceal his purpo- ses, he made, just before his embarkation, a visit of a few weeks in England, the only time he was ever there, and was much sought in English society. On his return to France, he did not stop at all in the capital, even to see his own fam- ily, but hastened with all speed and secrecy, to make good his escape from the country. It was not until he was thus on his way to embark, that his romantic undertaking began to be known. The effect produced in the capital and at court by its publication, was greater than we should now, perhaps, ima- gine. Lord Stormont, the English Ambassador, required the French Ministry to despatch an order for his arrest not 3^2 LA FAYETTE* only to Bordeaux, but to the French commanders on the West India station ; a requisiton with which the ministry readily complied, for they were, at that time, anxious to preserve a good understanding with England, and were se- riously angry with a young man, who had thus put in jeo- pardy the relations of the two countries. In fact, at Passage, on the very borders of France and Spain, a lettre de cachet overtook him, and he was arrested and carried back to Bor- deaux. There, of course, his enterprise was near being fi- nally stopped ; but watching his opportunity, and assisted by one or two friends, he disguised himself as a courier, with his face blacked and false hair, and rode on ordering post-horses, for a carriage wiiich he had caused to follow him at a suitable distance for this very purpose, and thus fairly passed the frontiers of the two kingdoms, only three or four hours before his pursuers reached them. He soon arrived at his port, where his vessel was waiting for him, Jlis family, however, still followed him with solicitations to return, which he never received. Immediately on arriving the second time at Passage, the wind being fair he embarked. The usual course for French vessels attempting to trade with our colonies at that period, was, to sail for the West Indies, and then coming up along our coast, enter where they could. But this course would have exposed Lafayette to the naval commanders of his own nation, and he had almost as much reason to dread them, as to dread British cruisers. When, therefore, they tt'eie outside of the Canary Islands, Lafayette required his captain to lay their course directly for the United States. The captain refused, alleging, that if they should be taken by a British force and carried into Halifax, the French gov- ernment would never reclaim them, and they could hope for nothing but a slow death in a dungeon or a prison-ship. Thisw-as true, but Lafayette knew it before he made the re- quisition. He, therefore, insisted, until the captain refused in the most positive manner. Lafayette then told him that the ship was his own private property, that he had made his own arrangements concerning it, and that if he, the captain,, would not sail directly for the United States, he should be put in irons, and his command given to the next officer. The captain, of course, submitted, and Lafayette gave him a bond for forty thousand francs, in case of any accident. They, therefore, now made sail directly for the southern portion of the United States, and arrived unmolested at Charleston, S. C. on the 25th of April, 1777. LA FAYETTE. 353 The sensation produced by his appearance in this country Was, of course, much greater than that produced in Europe by his departure. It still stands forth, as one of the most prominent and important circumstances in our revolutionary contest ; and, as has often been said by one who bore no small part in its trials and success, none but those who were then alive, can believe what an impulse it gave to the hopes of a population almost disheartened by a long series of dis'- asters. And well it might ; for it taught us, that in the first rank of the first nobility in Europe, men could still be found, who not only took an interest in our struggle, but were willing to share our sufferings ; that our obscure and almost desperate contest for freedom in a remote quarter of the world, could yet find supporters among those, who were the most natural and powerful allies of a splendid despotism ; that we were the objects of regard and interest throughout the world, which would add to our own resources sufficient strength to carvy us safely through to final success. Immediately after his arrival, Lafayette received the offer of a command in our army, but declined it. Indeed, during the whole of his service with us, he seemed desirous to show,, by his conduct, that he had come only to render disinterested assistance to our cause. lie began, therefore, by clothing and equipping a body of men at Charleston at his own ex- pense, and then entered, as a volunteer without pay, into our service. He lived in the family of the Commander in Chief, and won his full affection and conRdence. He was appoint- ed a Major General in our service, by a vote of Congress, on the 31st of July, 1777, and in September of the same year, was wounded at Brandywine. He was employed in 1778 in many parts of the country, as a Major General, and as the Head of a separate Division, and after having re ceived the thanks of Congress for his important services embarked at Boston in January, 1779, for France, thinking he could assist us more eflfectually, for a tune, in Europe thai in America. He arrived at Versailles, then the regular residence of the French court, on the 12th of February, and the same day had a long conference with Maurepas, the Prime Min- ister. He was not permitted to see the king ; and in a let- ter written at court the next day, we are told, that he re- ceived an order to visit none but his relations, as a form of censure for having left France without permission; but 30* ^54 LA FAYETTE. this was an order that fell very lightly on him, for he was connected by birth or marriage with almost every body at court, and every body else thronged to see him at his own hotel. The treaty, which was concluded between Amer- ica and France at just about the same period, was, by La- layette's personal exertions, made effective in our favor: He labored unremittingly to induce his Government to send us a fleet and troops ; and it was not until he had gained this point, and ascertained that he should be speedily follow- ed by Count Rochambeau, that he embarked to return. He reached the Head Quarters of the Army on the 1 1th of May 1780, and there confidentially communicated the im- portant inteUigence to the Commander in Chief Immediately on his return from his furlough, he resumed his place in our service with the same disinterested zeal he had shown on his first arrival. He received the separate command of a body of infantry, consisting of about two thousand men, and equipped it partly at his own expense, rendering it by unwearied exertions, constant sacrifices, and wise discipline, the best corps in the army. What he did for us, while at the head of this division, is known to all who have read the history of their country. His forced march to Virginia, in December, 1780, raising two thousand guineas at Baltimore, on his own credit, to supply the pres- sing wants of his troops ; his rescue of Richmond, which but for his great exertions must have fallen into the enemy's hands ; his long trial of generalship with CornwaUis, who foohshly boasted in an intercepted letter, that " the boy could not escape him ;" and finally the siege of Yorktown, the storming of the redoubt, and the surrender of the place in October, 1781, are proofs of talent as a military commander, and devotion to the welfare of these states, for which he never has been repaid, and, in some respects, never can be. He was, however, desirous to make yet greater exertions in our favour, and announced his project of revisiting France for the purpose. Congress had already repeatedly acknowledged his merits and services in formal votes. They now acknowledged them more formally than ever by a res- olution of November 23d, in which, besides all other ex- pressions of approbation, they desire the foreign ministers of this government to confer with him in tlieir negotiation? LA FAYETTE. 306 concerning our affairs ; a mark of respect and deference,, of which we know no other example. In France a brilliant reputation had preceded him. The cause of America was already popular there ; and his ex- ertions and sacrifices in it, which, from the first, had seemed so chivalrous and romantic, now came reflected back upon him in the strong light of popular enthusiasm. While he was in the United States for the first time, Voltaire made his remarkable visit to Paris, and having met Madame de Lafayette at the Hotel de Choiseuil, he made her a long harangue on the brilliant destinies that awaited her husband as a defender of the great cause of popular freedom ; and ended by offering his homage to her on his knees. It is not remarkable, therefore, with such a state of feel- ing while he was still absent from the country, that on his return, he was followed by crowds in the public streets wherever he went ; and that in a journey he made to one of his estates in the south of France, the towns through which he passed received him with processions and civic honors ; and that in the city of Orleans he was detained nearly a week by the festivities they had prepared for him, He did not, however, forget our interests amidst the pop- idar admiration with which he was surrounded. On the con^ trary, though the negotiations, for a peace were advancing, he was constantly urging upon the French government the policy of sending more troops to this country, as the surest means of bringing the war to a speedy and favorable ter- mination. He at last succeeded ; and Count d'Estaing was ordered to hold himself in readiness to sail for the United States, as soon as Lafayette should join him. When there^ fore, he arrived at Cadiz, he found forty-nine ships and twenty thousand men ready to follow him, first for the con- quest of Jamaica, and then for our assistance ; and they would have been on our coast early in the spring, if peacp had not rendered further exertions unnecessary. Thiis great event was first announced to Congress, by a letter from Lafayette, dated in the harbor of Cadiz, February ^, 1783. As soon as tranquillity was restored, Lafayette began tf ^receive pressing invitations to visit the country, whose cause he had so materially assisted. Washington, in particular, was extremely urgent ; and yielding not only to these instances, but te an attachment to the United States, of which his wh^e Tife hais given proef^ he embarked again for oitl- SSii LA FAYETTE. shores and landed at New York on the 4th of August, 1784. His visit however, was short. He went almost immediately to Mount Vernon, where he passed a few days in the family of which he was so long a cherished member, and then vis- iting Annapolis, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, Alba- ny, and Boston, received every where with unmingled en- thusiasm and delight, he re-embarked for France. But when he was thus about to leave the United States for the third, and, as it then seemed, the last time. Congress, m Decem- ber 1784, appointed a solemn deputatpn, consisting for its greater dignity, of one member from each state, with in- structions to take leave of him on behalf of the whole country, and to assure him, " that these United States re- gard him with particular affection, and will -not cease to feel an interest in v/hatever may concern his honor and prosperity, and that their best and kindest wishes will al- ways attend him." It was at the same time resolved, that a letter be written to his Most Christian Majesty, expres- sive of the high sense, which the United States in Congress assembled entertain of the zeal, talents, and meritorious services of the Marquis de Lafayette, and recommending him to the favor and patronage of his Majesty. We are not aware, that a more complete expression of dignified and respectful homage could have been offered to him. During the year that followed the arrival of Lafayette in his own country, he found the minds of men more agitated on' questions of political right, than they hrd ever been before. He went, for a short time, in 1785, to Prussia, for the purpose of seeing the troops of Frederick .Second, and was received with distinguished kindness and consideration by that remarkable monarch ; at whose court, by a singular coincidence of circumstances, he frequently met with Lord Cornwallis, and several other officers who had fought against him in the campaign that ended at Y'^orktown. But the grave and perilous discussions, that were then going on in France, soon called him back from Prussia. Into some of those discussions, he entered at once ; on others he waited ; but, on all, his opinions were openly and freely known, and on all, he preserved the most perfect consistency. He was for some time ineffectually employed with Male- sherbes, the Minister of Louis Sixteenth, in endeavoring to relieve the Protestants of France from political disabili- ties, and place them on the same footing with other subjects. He was the first Frenchman, who raised liis voice against LA FAYETTE. 3^7 the slave trade ; and it is worth notice, that having devoted considerable sums of money to purchase slaves in one of the colonies, and educate them for emancipation, the fac- tion, which in 1792 proscribed him, as an enemy to freedom, sold these very slaves back to their original servitude. And finally, at about the same time, he attempted with our Minister, Mr. Jefferson, to form a league of some of the European Powers against the Barbaresque Pirates, which, if it had succeeded, would have done more for their sup- pression, than has been done by Sir Sidney Smith's Associa- tion, or is likely to follow Lord Exmouth's victories. But while he was busied in the interests, to which these discussions gave rise, the materials for great internal chan- ges were collecting together at Paris from all parts of France; and in February, 1787, the Assembly of the No- tables was opened. Lafayette was, of course, a member, and the tone he held throughout its session contributed essentially to give a marked character to its deliberations. He proposed the suppression of the odious lettres de cachet, of which Mirabeau declared in the National Assembly, that seventeen had been issued against him before he was thirty years old ; he proposed the enfranchisement of the protest- ants, who, from the time of the abolition of the Edict of Nantz, had been suffering under more degrading disabilities than the Cathohcs now are in L-eland ; and he proposed by a formal motion, — which was the first time that word was ever used in France, and marks an important step towards a regular deliberative assembly, — he made a motion for the convocation of Representatives of the people. " What," said the Count d'Artois, now Charles Tenth, who presided in the assembly of the Notables, " do you ask for the Stntes General ?" " Yes," replied Lafayette, " and for something more and better ;" an intimation, which, though it can be readily understood by all who have lived under a representative government, was hardly intelligible in France at that time. Lafayette was, also, a prominent member of the States General, which met in 1789, and assumed the name of the National Assembly. He proposed in this body a Declara- tion of Rights not unhke our own, and it was under his in- fluence and while he was, for this very purpose, in the chair, that a decree was passed on the night of the 13tii and 14th of July, at the moment the Bastille was falling before the cannon of the populace, which provided for the responsibil- 358 LAFAYETTE. ity of ministers, and thus furnished one of the most impor- tant elements of a representative monarchy. Two days af- terwc^rds, he was appointed Commander in Chief of the National Guards at Paris, and thus was placed at the head of what was intended to be made, when it should be carried into all the departments, the effective military power of the realm, and what, under his v/ise management, soon became such. His great military command, and his still greater personal influence, now brought him constantly in contact with the court and the throne. His position, therefore, was extreme- ly delicate and diflicult, especially as the popular party in Paris, of which he was not so much the head, as the idol, was already in a state of perilous excitement, and atrocious violences were beginning to be committed. The abhor- rence of the queen was almost universal, and was excessive to a degree of which we can now have no just idea. The circumstance that the court lived at Versailles, sixteen miles from Paris, and that the session of the National Assembly was held there, was another source of jealousy, irritation, and hatred, on the part of the capital. The people of Pa- ris, therefore, as a sign of opposition, had mounted their municipal cockade of blue and red, whose effects were al- ready becoming alarming. Lafayette, who was anxious about the consequences of such a marked division, and who knew how important are small means of conciliation, added to it, on the ^26th of July, the white of the Royal cock- ade, and as he placed it in his own hat, amidst the accla- mations of the multitude, prophecied, that it " would go round the world ;" a prediction, which is already more than half accomplished, since the tricolored cockade has been used for the ensign of emancipation in Spain, in Naples, in some parts of South America, and in Greece. Still, however, the tendency of every thing was to confu- sion and violence. The troubles of the times, too, rather than the want of the means of subsistence, had brought on a famine in the capital ; and the populace of the Faux- bourgs, the most degraded certainly in France, having as- sembled and armed themselves, determined to go to Ver- sailles ; the greater part with a blind desire for vengeance on the royal family, but others only with the purpose of bringing the king from Versailles, and forcing him to re- side in the more ancient but scarcely habitable palace of the Thuilleries, in the midst of Paris. The National Guards LA FAYETTE. 359 clamored to accompany this savage multitude ; Lafayette opposed their inclination ; the municipality of Paris hesita- ted, but supported ^^it ; he resisted nearly the whole of the 5th of October, while the road to Versailles was already thronged with an exasperated mob of above an hundred thousand ferocious men and women, until, at last, finding the multitude were armed, and even had cannon, he asked and received an order to march, from the competent author- ity, and set off at four o'clock in the afternoon, as one going to a post of imminent danger, which it had clearly become his duty to occupy. He arrived at Versailles at ten o'clock at night, after hav- ing been on horseback from before daylight in the morning, and having made, during the whole interval, both at Pans and on the road, incredible exertions to control the multi- tude and calm the soldiers. " The Marquis de Lafayette at last entered the Chateau," says Madame de Stael, " and passing through the apartment where we were, went to the king. We all pressed round him, as if he were the master of events, and yet the popular party was already more pow- erful than its chief, and principles were yielding to factions, or rather were beginning to serve only as their pretext. M. de Lafayette's manner was perfectly calm.; nobody ever saw it otherwise ; but his delicacy suffered from the import- ance of the part he was called to act. He asked for the in- terior posts of the chateau, in order that he might ensure their safety. Only the outer posts were granted him." This was not disrespectful to him who made the request. It was given, simply because the etiquette of the court reser- ved the guard of the royal person and family to another bo- dy of men. Lafayette, therefore, answered for the Nation- al Guards, and for the posts committed to them ; but he could answer for no more ; and his pledge was faithfully and desperately redeemed. Between two and three o'clock, the queen and the royal family went to bed. Lafayette, too, slept after the great fatigues of this fearful day. At half past four, a portion of the populace made their way into the palace by an obscure interior passage, which had been overlooked, and which was not in that part of the chateau entrusted to Lafayette. They were evidently led by persons who well knew the secret avenues. Mirabeau's name was afterwards strangely com- promised in it, and the form of the infamous Duke of Or- leans was repeatedly recognised on the great staircase, ^6j0 la FAYETTE. pointing the assassins the way to the queen's chamber. They easily found it. Two of lier guards were cut down in an instant ; and she made her escape almost naked. La- fayette immediately rushed in with the national troops, pro- tected the guards from the brutal populace, and saved the lives of the royal family, which had so nearly been sacrifi- (ited to the etiquette of monarchy. The day dawned as this fearful scene of guilt and blood- shed was passing in the magnificent palace, whose construc- tion had exhausted the revenues of Louis Fourteenth, and which, for a century, had been the most splendid residence iii Europe. As soon as it was light,' the same furious mul- titude filled the vast space, which, from the rich materials of which it ia formed, passes under the name of the court of marble. They called upon the king, in tones not to be mistaken, to go to Paris : and they called for the queen, who had but just escaped from their daggers, to come out upon the balcony. The king, after a short consultation with his ministers, announced his intention to set out for the capital ; but Lafayette was afraid to trust the queen in the midst of the blood-thirsty multitude. He went to her, therefore, with rjespectful hesitation, and asked her if it were her purpose to accompany the king to Paris. " Yes," she rephed, " al- though I am aware of the danger." " Are you positively determined ?" " Yes, sir." " Condescend, then, to go out O'pon the balcony, and suffer me to attend you." " Without the king ?" — she replied, hesitating — " Have you observed the threats ?" •' Yes, Madam, I have ; but dare to trust me." He led her out upon the balcony, It^ was a moment of great responsibility and great delicacy ; but nothing, he felt assured, could be so dangerous as to permit her to set out ibr Paris, surrounded by that multitude, unless its feelings could be changed. The agitation, the tumult, the cries of the crowd, rendered it impossible that his voice should be heard. It was nececessary, therefore, to address himself to the eye, and turning towards the queen, with that admirable presence of mind, which never yet forsook him, and with (hat mingled grace and dignity, which were the peculiar in- heritance of the ancient court of France, he simply kissed her hand before the vast multitude. An instant of silent astonishment followed, but the whole was immediately in- .terpreted, and the air was rent with cries of " Long live the queen !" " Long live the general !" from the same fickle and rruel populace, that only two hours before had embrued LA FAYETTE. 361 their hands in the blood of the guards, who defended the life of this same queen. The same day, that this scene was passing, the first meet- ing of the Jacobin club w as held. Against this club and its projects Lafayette at once declared himself With Bailly, the Mayor of Paris, he organized an opposing club, and the victory between the two parties was doubtful for above a year and a half The contest, however, which was produced by this state of things, placed Lafayette in a very embarrassing and dangerous position. He was obhged to oppose the unprincipled purposes of the Jacobins, without retreating towards the principles of the ancient despotism ; and it is greatly to his honor, that he did it most faithfully and consistently. When therefore, on the 20th of June, 1790, a proposition was suddenly made in the Assembly to abolish all titles of nobility, Lafayette, true to his principles, rose to second it. A short discussion followed. It was objected to the abolition of rank, that, if there were no ti- tles, no such reward could be conferred as was once con- ferred by Henry Second, when he created an obscure per- son, according to the terms of his patent, " noble and count, for having saved the country at such a time." "The only difference," replied Lafayette, " will be, that the words, no- ble and count will be left out, and the patent will simply de- clare, that on such an occasion, such a man saved the state." From this time Lafayette renounced the title of Marquis, and has never since resumed it. Since the restor- ation of the Bourbons indeed, and the revival of the an- cient nobility, there has been sometimes an affectation among the Ultra Royalists of calling liim by his former ti- tle ; but he has never recognised it, and is still known in France only by the address of General. At least, if he is sometimes called otherwise there, it is not by his friends. At length the Constitution of a representative Monar- chy, much more popular than that of Great Britain, which Lafayette's exertions had, from the first opening of the As- sembly, been consistently devoted to establish, was prepar- ed ; and all were desirous that it should be received and recognised by the nation in the most solemn manner. The day chosen, as most appropriate for the ceremony, was the 14th of July, 1790, the anniversary of the destruction of the Bastille ; and the open space behind the military school, called the Champ de Mars, from the Campus Martius of the Romans, was the place fixed on for this great national 31. 36^ LA FAYETTE. festival and solcmnit}'. By the constant labor of above two hundred thousand persons of both sexes and all ranks, from dukes and duchesses,. bishops and deputies, down to the humblest artisans, who all made the occasion like the Sa- turnalia of the ancients, an amphitheatre of earth four miles in circumference Vv'as raised in a few weeks, whose sides were formed of yeats destined to receive the French peo- ; ie, and amidst which stood the Throne and the Altar. On the morning of the day when the whole was to be consum- mated, the king, the court, the clergy, the National as- eembly, a deputation of the military from the eighty-three departments, and a body of people amounting to above four hundred thousand souls were assembled in this magnificent amphitheatre. Mass was first said, and then Lafayette, who that day had the military command of four millions of men, represented by 14,000 elected military deputies, and who held in his hands the power of the monarchy, swore to the Constitution on behalf of the nation, at the altar which had been erected in the midst of the arena. Erery eye of that immense mass was turned on him ; every hand was raised to join the oath he uttered. It was, no doubt, one of the most magnificent and solemn ceremonies the world ever saw ; and, perhaps, no man ever enjoyed the sincere confi- dence of an entire people more completely than Lafayette did, as he thus bore the most imposing part in these extra- ordinary solemnities. The Champ de Mars, however, as Madame de Stael has well observed, was the last moment of a genuine national enthusiasm in France. The Jacobins were constantly gain- ing power, and the revolution was falling more and more into the hands of the populace. When the king wished to go to St. Cloud with his family, in order to pass through the duties of Easter, under the ministration of a priest, who had not taken certain civil oaths, which in the eyes of ma- ny conscientious Catholics desecrated those who received them, the populace and the national guards tumultuously stopped his carriage. Lafayette arrived, at the first sugges- tion of danger " If," said he, " this be a matter of con- science with your majesty, we will, if it is necessary, die to maintain it ," and he offered immediately to open a passage by force ; but the king hesitated at first, and finally deter- mined to remain in Paris. Lafayette, indeed, under all circumstances, remained strictly feithful to his oaths ; and now defended the freedom LA FAYETTE. 363 of the king, as sincerely as he had ever defended the free- dom of the people. His situation, therefore, became every day more dangerous. He might have taken great power to himself, and so have been safe. He might have received the sword of Constable of France, which was worn by the Montmorencies, but he declined it ; or he might have been Generalissimo of the National Guards, who owed their exis- tence to him ; but he thought it more for the safety of the state that no such power should exist. Having, therefore, organized this last body, according to the project he had originally formed for it, he resigned all command at the dis- solution of the Constituent Assembly, with a disinterested- ness of which, perhaps, Washington alone could have been his example ; and retired to his estate in the country, fol- lowed, as he had been for many years, by crowds wherever he went, and accompanied on his way by every form of pop- ular enthusiasm and admiration. From the tranquillity to which he now gladly turned, he was soon called by the war v^th Austria, declared April 20th, and in which he was, at once, appointed one of the three Generals to command the French armies. His la- bors, in the beginning of this war, whose declaration he did not approve, were very severe ; and the obstacles he sur- mounted, some of which were purposely thrown in his way by the factions of the capital, were great and alarming. But the Jacobins at Paris were now a well organized body, and were fast maturing their arrangements to overturn the Con- stitution. Violences of almost every degree of atrocity were become common, and that public order of which La- fayette had never ceased to speak on all suitable occasions, no longer existed. Under tliese circumstances, he felt that his silence would be an abandonment of the principles to the support of which he had devoted his life; and with a courage, which few men in any age have been able to show, and with a temperance, which has always kept his conduct on one even line, he wrote a letter to the National Assem- bly, dated June 16th, in which he plainly denounced the growing faction of Jacobins, and called on the constituted authorities to put a stop to the atrocities this faction was openly promoting. In the course of this letter he dared to say ; " Let the royal authority be untouched, for it is guar- antied by the constitution ; let it be independent, for its in- dependence is one of the springs of our liberty ; let the king be respected, for he is invested with the majesty of 364 ' LA FAYETTE. the nation ; let him choose a ministry that shall wear the chains of no faction ; and if traitors exist, let them perish only under the sword of the law." There was not another man in France, who would have dared to take such a step, at such a time; and it required all Lafayettes's vast influ- ence to warrant him in expressing such opinions and feel- ings, or to protect him afterwards. At first the Jacobins seemed to shrink from a contest with him. He said to the assembly, " Let the reign of clubs, abolished by you, give place to the reign of the law," and they almost doubted whether he had not yet power enough to effect what he counselled. They began, th'^re- fore, as soon as the letter had been read, by denying its au- thenticity ; they declared it, in short, to be a forgery. As soon as Lafayette heard of this, he came to Paris, and avowed it at the bar of the Assembly. The 20th of June, however, had overthrown the Constitution before his arri- val ; and, though he stood with an air of calm command amidst its ruins, and vindi<^ted it as proudly as ever, he was, after all, surrounded by those who had triumphed over it. Still the majority of the Assembly" was decidedly with him, and when on the 8th of August, his impeachment was moved, more than two thirds voted in his favor. But things were daily growing worse. On the 9th of August, the As- sembly declared itself no longer free : and within two days, its number fell to less than one third, and the capital was given up to the terrors of the 10th of August. Lafay- ette, therefore, could do nothing at Paris, and returned to his army on the borders of the low countries. But the ar- my, too, was now infected. He endeavored to assure him- self of its fidelity, and proposed to the soldiers to swear anew to the Constitution. A very large proportion refused, and it immediately became apparent, from the movements, both at Paris and in the army, that he was no longer safe. His adversaries, who for his letter, were determined, and in- terested to ruin him, were his judges ; and they belonged to a party, which was never known to devote a victim with- out consummating the sacrifice. On the 17th of August, therefore, accompanied by three of his general oflScers, Alexandre Lameth, Latour Maubourg, and Bureaux de Puzy, he left the army, and in a few hours was beyond the limits of France. His general purpose was, to reach the neutral territory of the republic of Holland, which was quite near ; and from that point either rally the old consti- LA FAYETTE. 365 tutional party, or pass to Switzerland or the United States, where he should be joined by his family. That he did not leave France, while any hope remained for him, is certain ; since, before his escape was known at Paris, a decree, ac- cusing him of high treason, which was then equivalent to an order for his execution, was carried in what remained of the Assembly by o large majority, Lafayette and his companions hoped to avoid the enemy's posts, but they did not succeed. They were seized the same night by an Austrian patrol, and soon afterwards re- cognised. They were not treated as prisoners of war, which was the only quality in which they could iiave been ar- rested and detained ; but were exposed to disgraceful in- dignity, because they had been the friends of the Constitu- tion. After being detained a short time by the Austrians. they were given up to the Prussians, who, because their fortresses were nearer, were supposed to be able to receive and guard them more conveniently. At first they were con- fined at Wesel on the Rhine, and afterwards in dungeons at Magdeburg. But the Prussians, at last, became unwilling to bear the odium of such unlawful and disgraceful treat- ment of prisoners of war, entitled to every degree of re- spect from their rank and character ; and especially from the manner in which they had been taken. They, there- fore, before they made peace, gave them up again to the Austrians, who finally transferred them to most unhealthy dungeons in the citadel of Olmutz. The sufferings to which Lafayette was here exposed, in the mere spirit of a barbarous revenge, are almost incredible. He was warned, " that he would never again see any thing but the four walls of his dungeon ; that he would never receive news of events or persons ; that his name would be unknown in the citadel, and that in all accounts of him sent to court, he would be designated only by a number ; that he would nev- er receive any notice of his family, or the existence of his fellow prisoners.' At the same time, knives and forks w^ere removed from him, as he was officially informed, that his sit- uation was one which would naturally load him to suicide. His sufferings, indeed, proved almost beyond his strength. The want of air, and the loathsome dampness and filth of his dungeon, brought him more than once to the borders of the grave. His frame was wasted with diseases, of which, for a long period, not the slightest notice was taken ; and on one occasion, he was reduced so low, that his kair fell 31* 366 LA FAYETTE. from him entirely by the excess of his sufferings. At the same time, his estates in France were confiscated, his wife cast into prison, and Fayettisme, as adherence to the Constitution was called, was punished with death. His friends, however, all over Europe, were carefully watching every opportunity to obtain some intelligence which should, at least, render his existence certain. Among those who made the most vigorous and contmued exertions to get some hint of his fate, was Count Lally Tolendal, then a refugee from his blood stained country. This nobleman became acquainted in London with Dr. Erick BoUmann, a Hanoverian, who, immediately after the massacres of Au- gust 10th, 1792, had been employed by Madam de Stael to effect the escape of Count Narbonne, and, by great address and courage, had succeeded in conveying him safely to England. Dr. Bollmann's adventurous spirit easily led him to engage in the affairs of Lafayette. His first expedition to the continent, under the direction of Lafayette's friends in London, in 1793, was, however, no further successful, than that he learned the determination of the Prussian gov- ernment to give up Lafayette to Austria, and the probability that he had been already transferred. Where he was, and whether he were even alive, were circumstances Dr. BoU- mann found it impossible to determine. But the friends of Lafayette were not discouraged. In June 1794, they again sent Dr. Bollmann to Germany to as- certain what had been his fate, and if he were still alive, to endeavor to procure his escape. With great difiiculty, he traced the French prisoners to the Prussian frontiers, and there ascertained, that an Austrian escort had received them, and taken the road to Olrnutz, a strong fortress in Moravia, one hundred and fifty miles north of Vienna, and near the borders of Silesia. At Olrnutz, Dr. Bollmann ascertained, that several state prisoners were kept in the citadel with a degree of caution and mystery, which must have been not unlike that used towards the half fabulous personage in the iron mask. He did not doubt but Lafayette was one of them, and making himself professionally acquainted with the military surgeon of the post, soon became sure of it. By very ingenious means, Dr. Bollmann contrived to communi- cate his projects through this surgeon to Lafayette, and to obtain answers without exciting the surgeon's suspicions ; until, at last, after the lapse of several months, during which, to avoid all risk, Dr. BoUmann made a long visit at Vienna, LA FAYETTE. a§7 it was determined, that an attempt should be made to rescue Lafayette, while on one of the airings, with which he was then regularly indulged on account of his broken health. . As soon as this was arranged, Dr. BoUmann returned to Vienna, and communicated his project to a young American, by the name of Francis K. lluger, then accidentally in Austria ; son of the person at whose house, near Charles- ton, Lafayette had been first received on his landing in America : a young man of uncommon talent, decision, and enthusiasm, who at once entered into tlie whole design, and devoted himself to its execution with the most romantic earnestness. These were the only two persons on the con- tinent, except Lafayette himself, who had the slightest sus- picion of these arrangements for his rescue, and neither of these persons knew him by sight. It was therefore con- certed between the two parties, after the two friends had come to Olmutz in November, that, to avoid all mistakes when the rescue should be attempted, each should take off his hat and wipe his forehead, in sign of recognition ; and then, having ascertained a day when Layfayette would ride out, Dr. Bollmann and Mr. Huger sent their carriage ahead to Hoif, a post about twenty-five miles on tlie road they wished to take, with directions to have it waiting for them at a given hour. The rescue they determined to attempt on horseback ; and they put no balls into their pistols, and took no other weapons, thinking it would be unjustifiable t6 commit a murder even to effect their purpose. Having ascertained that a carriage which they supposed must contain Lafayette, since there was a prisoner and an officer inside and a guard behind, had passed out of the fortress, they mounted and followed. They rode by it, and then slackening their pace and allowing it again to go ahead, exchanged signals with the prisoner. At two or three miles from the gate, the carriage left the high road, and passino- into a less frequented track in the midst of an open country, Lafayette descended to walk for exercise, guarded only by the officer who had been riding with him. This was evi- dently the moment for their attempt. They therefore rode up at once ; and after an inconsiderable struggle with the offi- cer, from which the guard fled to alarm the citadel, the rescue was completed. One of the horses, however, had escaped during the contest, and thus only one remained with which to proceed. Lafayette was immediately mounted on this S68 LA FAYETTE. horse, and Mr. Huger told him, in EngUsh, to go to Hoft! He mistook what was said to him for a mere general direc^ tion to go off — delayed a moment to see if he could not assist them — then w«nt on — then rode back again, and asked once more, if he could be of no service — and finally, urged anew, galloped slowly away. The horse, that had escaped, was soon recovered and both Dr. BoUmann and Mr. lluger mounted him, intending to follow and assist Lafayette But the animal proved in- tractable, threw them and left them, for some time, stunned by their fall. On recovering their horse a second time, Dr. Bollmann alone mounted ; Mr. Huger thinking that, from his own imperfect knowledge of the German, he could not do as much towards effecting their main purpose. These ac- cidents defeated their romantic enterprise. Mr. Huger, who could now attempt his escape only on foot, was soon stopped by some peasants, who had witnessed what had passed. Dr. Bollmann easily arrived at Hoff ; but not finding Lafayette there, lingered about the frontiers till tlie next night, when he too was arrested and delivered up to the Austrians. And finally Lafayette, having taken a wrong road and pursued it till his horse could proceed no further, was stopped at the village of Jagersdorff, as a suspicious person, and detained there till he was recognized by an officer from Olmutz, two days afterwards. All three of them were brought back to the citadel and separately confined without being permitted to know any thing of each other's fate. Mr. Huger was chained to the floor, in a small ar- ched dungeon, about six feet by eight, without hght and with only bread and water for food ; and once in six hours, by day and by night, the guard entered, and, with a lamp, examined each brick in his cell, and each link in his chain. To his earnest request to know something of Dr. Bollmann, and to learn whether Lafayette had escaped, he received no answer at all. To his more earnest request to be permitted to send to his mother in America merely the words, " I am alive," signed with his name, he received a rude refusal. Indeed, at first, every degree of brutal severity was prac- tised towards both of them ; but, afterwards, this severity was relaxed. The two prisoners were placed nearer togeth- er, where they could communicate ; and their trial for what, m Vienna, was magnified into a wide and alarming conspi- racy, wa« begun with all the tedious formalities, that could be prescribed by Austrian fear and caution. How it would LA FAYETTE. 369 have turned, if they had been left entirely unprotected, it is not difficult to conjecture : but at this crisis of their fate, they were secretly assisted by Count Metro vvsky, a noble- man living near their prison, whom neither of them had ever seen, and who was interested in them, only for what, in the eyes of his government, constituted their crime. The means he used to influence the tribunal that judged them, may be easily imagined, since they were so far successful, that the prisoners, after having been confined for trial eight months, were sentenced only to a fortnight's imprisonment as their punishment, and then released. A few hours after they had left Olmutz, an order came from Vienna directing a new trial, which under the management of the ministers would of course have ended very differently from the one managed by Count Metrowsky ; but the prisoners were al- ready beyond the limits of the Austrian Dominions. Lafayette, in the meanwhile, was thrown back into his obscure and ignominious sufferings, with hardly a hope that they could be terminated, except by his death. During the winter of 1794-6, he was reduced to almost the last ex- tremity by a violent fever ; and yet was deprived of proper attendance, of air, of suitable food, and of decent clothes. To increase his misery, he was made to believe, that he was only reserved for a public execution, and that his chivalrous deliverers would perish on the scaffold before his window ; while, at the same time, he was not permitted to know whether his family were still alive, or had fallen under the revolutionary axe, of which, during the few days he was out of his dungeon, he had heard such appalling accounts. Madame de Lafayette, however, was nearer to him than he could imagine to be possible. She had been released from prison, where she, too, had nearly perished ; and, having gained strength sufficient for the undertaking, and sent her eldest son for safety to the care of General Wash- ington, she set out, accompanied by her two young daugh- ters, for Germany, all in disguise, and with American pass- ports. They were landed at Altona, and, proceeding imme- diately to Vienna, obtained an audience of the Emperor, who refused to liberate Lafayette, but, as it now seems probable, against the intentions of his ministers gave them permission to join him in his prison. They went instant- ly to Olmutz ; but before they could enter, they were de- prived of whatever they had brought with them to alleviate the miseries of a dungeon, and required, if they should 370 LA FAYETTE. pass its threshold, never again to leave it. Madame de Lafayette's health soon sunk under the complicated suffer- ings and privations of her loathsome imprisonment, and she wrote to Vienna for permission to pass a week in the capi- tal, to breathe purer air and obtain medical assistance. Two months elapsed before any answer was returned ; and then she was told, that no objection would be made to her leaving her husband ; but that, if she should do so, she must never return to him. She immediately and formally signed her consent and determination "to share his captivi- ty in all its details :" and never afterwards made an effort to leave him. Madame de Stael has well observed, when on this point of the history of the French Revolution ; — " antiquity offers nothing more admirable, than the conduct of General Lafayette, his wife, and his daughters, in the prison of Olmutz." One more attempt was made to effect the liberation of Lafayette, and it was made in the place and in the way, that might have been expected. When the Emperor of Austria refused the liberty of her husband to Madame de Lafayette, he told her that "his hands were tied." In this remark, the Emperor could, of course, allude to no law or constitution of his empire, and therefore his hands could be tied only by engagements with his allies in the war against France. England was one of these allies, and General Fitzpatrick, in the House of Commons, made a motion, for an inquiry into the case, in which he was supported by Co- lonel Tarleton, who had fought against Lafayette in Virgin- ia. Afterwards, on the 16th of December, 1796, General Fitzpatrick renewed his attempt more solemnly, and was supported in it by Wilberforce, by Sheridan, and by Fox, in one of his most powerful and happy speeches ; but the motion was lost. One effect, however, unquestionably fol- lowed from it : — a solemn and vehement discussion, on La- fayette's imprisonment, in which the Emperor of Austria found no apologist, had been held in the face of all Eu- irope ; and all Europe, of course, was informed of his suf- ferings, in the most solemn and authentic way. When, therefore, General Clarke was sent from Paris to join Bonaparte in Italy, and negotiate a peace with the Aus- trians, it was understood, that he received orders from the Directory to stipulate for the deliverance of the prisoners in Olmutz, since it was impossible for France to consent to each an outrage on the rights of citizenship, as would be im- LA FAYETTE. 371 plied by their further detention. On opening the negotia- tion, an attempt was made on the part of Austria, to com- pel Lafayette to receive his freedom on conditions prescri- bed to him ; but this he distinctly refused ; and, in a docu- ment that has often been published, declared with a firm- ness, which we can hardly believe would have survived such sufferings, that he would never accept his liberation in any way, that should compromise his rights and duties, ei- ther as a Frenchman, or as an American citizen. Bona- parte often said, that, of all the difficulties in this protracted negotiation with the Coalition, the greatest was the delive- ry of Lafayette. He was, however, at last released with his family on the 25th of August, 1797 ; Madame de La- fayette and her daughters having been confined twenty-two months, and Lafayette himself five years, in a disgraceful spirit of vulgar cruelty and revenge, of which modern his- tory can afford, we trust, very few examples. France was still too little settled to promise peace or safe- ty to Lafayette and his family. They proceeded first to Hamburg ; and then, after causing their rights both as French and American citizens to be formally recognised, went to the neighboring neutral territories of Holstein, where they lived in retirement and tranquillity about a year. There they were joined by their eldest son, who came to them from the family of General Washington ; there, too, their eldest daughter was married to Latour Mauburg, brother of the person who had shared Lafayette's captivity : and there he first devoted himself with great earnestness to those agricultural pursuits, which have since constituted the occupation and the happiness of his life. From Hol- stein he went at the formal invitation of the Batavian repub- lic, and estabhshed himself for several months at Utrecht ia Holland, where he was treated with great consideration and kindness, and where he had the advantage of being nearer to the borders of his own country. While he was thus living tranquil and happy, but anxiously watching the pro- gress of events in France, the revolution of the 1 8th Bru- maire, November 10th, 1799, happened, and promised for a time to settle the government of his country on a safer foun- dation. He immediately returned to France, and establish- ed himself at La Grange ; a fine old castle, surrounded by a moderate estate about forty miles from Paris, where he has lived ever since. When, however, Bonaparte, to whom the revolution of 312 LA FAYETTE, the 18th Brumaire had given supreme control, began to frame his constitution and organize his government, Lafay- ette perceived, at once, that the principles of freedom would not be permanently respected. He had several in- terviews and political discussions with the Consul, and was much pressed to accept the place of Senator, with its accompanying revenues, in the new order of things ; but he refused, determined not to involve himself in changes, which he already foresaw he should not approve. In 1802, Bona- parte asked to be made First Consul for life : Lafayette voted against it, entered his protest, and sent a letter to Bona- parte himself; and from this moment all intercourse be- tween them ceased. Bonaparte even went so fitr as to refuse to promote Lafayette's eldest son, and his son-in-law Last ey- rie, though they distinguished themselves repeatedly in the army ; and once, when a report of the services of the former in a bulletin was offered him, he erased it with impatience, saying, " These Lafayettes cross my path every where." Discouraged, therefore, in every way in which they could be of service to their country, the whole family was at last collected at La Grange, and Uved there in the happiest re- tirement, so long as the despotism of Bonaparte lasted. The restoration of the Bourbons in 1814 made no change in Lafayette's relations. He presented himself once at court, and was very kindly received ; but the government they established was so different from the representative government, which he haei assisted to form, and sworn to support in 1789, that he did not again present himself at the palace. The Bourbons, by neglecting entirely to under- stand or conciliate the nation, at the end of a year brought back Bonaparte, who landed the first of March, 1815, and reached the capital on the 20th. His appearance in Paris was like a theatrical illusion, and his policy seemed to be to play all men, of all parties, like the characters of a great drama, around him. Immediately on his arrival upon the soil of France, he endeavored to win the old friends of French freedom ; and the same day that he made his irrup- tion into the ancient palace of the Thuilleries, he appointed Carnot his minister of war, and Carnot was weak enough to accept the appointment with the title of Count. In a similar way, he endeavored to obtain the countenance and co-operation of Lafayette. Joseph Bonaparte, to whom La- fayette was personally known, and for whom he entertained a personal regard, was employed by the Emperor to consult LA FAYETTE. 373 ami conciliate him ; but Lafayette would hold no com- munion with tlie new order of things.^ He even refused, though most pressingly solicited, to Imve an interview with the Emperor ; and ended, when still further urged, by pos- itively declaring, that he could never meet him, unless it yliould be as a representative freely chosen by the people. On the 22d of April, Napoleon otfered to the French nation his Acte Addiiionel, or an addition, as he chose to con- sider it, to the constitutions of 1799, 1802, and 1804 ; con- firming thereby the principles of his former despotism, but establishing, among other things, an herediatary chamber of peers, and an elective chamber of representatives. This act was accepted, or pretended to be accepted, by the votes of the French people ; but Lafayette entered his solemn protest against it, in the same spirit with which he had pro- tested against the Consulship for life. The very college of Electors, however, who received his protest, unanimously chose him first to be their President, and afterwards to be their Representative ; and the Emperor, determined to ob- tain his influence, or at least his silence, offered him the first peerage in the new chamber he was forming. Lafayette ■was as true to his principles, as he had often been before, under more difficult circumstances. He accepted the place of representative, and declined the peerage. As a representative of the people he saw Bonaparte, for the first time, at the opening of the chambers, on the 7th of June. " It is above twelve years since we have met, Gen- eral," said Napoleon, with great kindness of manner, when the saw Lafayette ; but Lafayette received the Emperor with marked distrust ; and all his efforts were directed, as he then happily said they should be, " to make the chamber, of which he was a member, a representation of the French people, and not a Napoleon club." Of three candidates for the presidency of the chamber, on the first ballot, La- fayette and Lanjuinais had the highest number of votes ; but finding that the Emperor had declared he would not ac- cept Lanjuinais, if he should be chosen, Lafayette used great exertions and obtained a majority for him ; to which, circumstances compelled Napoleon to submit. From this moment, until after the battle of Waterloo, which happened in twelve days, Lafayette did not make himself prominent in the chamber. He voted fOr all judicious supplies, on the ground that France was invaded, and that it was the duty of all Frenchmen to defend their country ; but he in no 32 574 LA FAYETTE. way iiriplioaied himself in Bonaparte's projects or toriiiaeB, \vith which it was impossible that he could have any thing in common. At last, on the 21st of June, Bdnaparte arrived from Wa- terloo, a defeated and desperate man. He was already determined to dissolve the representative body, and, assu- ming the whole dictatorship of the country, play, at least, one deep and bloody game for power and success. Some of his council, and, among the rest, Regnault de St. Jean d'Angley, who were opposed to this violent measure, inform- ed Lafayette, that it would be taken instantly, and that in two hours the chamber of representatives would cease to exist. There was, of course, not a moment left for consul- tation or advice ; the Emperor, or the chamber, must fall that morning. As soon, therefore, as the session was open- ed, Lafayette, with the same clear courage and in the same spirit of self-devotion, with which he stood at the bar of the National iVssembly in 1792, immediately ascended the Tribune for the first time for tvv^enty years, and said these few words, which assuredly would have been his death war- rant, if he had not been supported in them by the assembly he addressed : " When, after an interval of many years, I raise a voice which the friends of free institutions will still recognise, I feel myself called upon to speak to you only of the dangers of the country, which you alone have now the power to save. Sinister intimations have been heard ; they are unfortunately confirmed. This, therefore, is the mo- ment for us to gather round the ancient tricolored standard ; the standard of '89, the standard of freedom, of equal rights, and of public order. Permit then, gentlemen, a veteran in this sacred cause, one who has always been a stranger to the spirit of faction, to offer you a few preparatory resolutions, whose absolute necessity, I trust, you will feel, as I do." These resolutions declared the chamber to be in permanent session, and all attempts to dissolve it, high treason ; and they also called for the four principal ministers to come to the chamber, and explain the state of affairs. Bonaparte s said to have been much agitated, when word was brought him simply that Lafayette was in the tribune ; and his fears were certainly not ill founded, for these resolutions, which were at once adopted, both by the representatives and the peers, substantially divested him of his power, and left him merely a factious and dangerous individual in the midst of a distracted state. He hesitated during the whole day, as to the course he LA FAYETTE. 3f5 should pursue : but, at last, hoping that the eloquence of Lucien, which had saved him on the 18th Bruniaire, might be found no less effectual now, he sent him with three other ministers to the chamber, just at the beginning of the evening ; having first obtained a vote, that all should pass in secret session. It was certainly a most perilous crisis. Reports were abroad that the populace of the Fauxbourgs had been excited, and were arming tliemselves. It was believed, too, with no little probability, that Bonaparte would march against the chamber, as he had formerly march- ed against the council of Five Hundred, and disperse them at the point of the bayonet. At all events, it was a contest for existence, and no man could feel his life safe. At this moment, Lucien rose, and in the doubtful and gloomy hght, which two vast torches shed through the hall and over the pale and anxious features of the members, made a partial exposition of the state of affairs, and the projects and hopes he still entertained. A deep and painful silence followed. At length Mr. Jay, well known above twenty years ago in Boston, under the assumed name of Renaud, as a teacher of the French Language, and an able writer in one of the pub- lic newspapers of that city ascended the Tribune, and, in a long and vehement speech of great eloquence, exposed the dangers of the country, and ended by proposing to send a deputation to the Emperor, demanding his abdication. Lucien immediately followed. He never showed more power, or a more impassioned eloquence. His purpose was to prove, that France was still devoted to the Emperor, and that its resources were still equal to a contest with the allies. " It is not Napoleon," he cried, " that is attacked, it is the French people. And a proposition is now made to Ihis people, to abandon their Emperor ; to ex})0se the French nation, before the tribunal of the world, to a severe judgment on its levity and inconsistency. No, sir, the hon- or of this nation shall never be so compromised !" On liear- ing these words, Lafayette rose. He did not go to the tribune ; but spoke, contrary to rule and custom, from* his place. His manner was perfectly calm, but marked with tlie very spirit of rebuke ; and he addressed himself, not to the President, but directly to Lucien. " The assertion, which has just been uttered, is a calumny. Who shall dare io accuse the French nation of inconstancy to the Empe- ror Napoleon ? That nation has followed his bloody foot- jsjeps through the sands of Egypt and through the wastes of 376 LA FAYETTE. Kussia ; over fifty fields of battle ; in disaster as faithfully as in victory ; and it is for having thus devotedly followed him, that we now mourn the loss of three millions of French- men." These few words made an impression on the As- sembly, which could not be mistaken or resisted ; and, as Lafayette ended, Lucien himself bowed respectfully to him, and, without resuming his speech sat down. It was determined to appoint a deputation .of five mem- bers from each chamber, to mget the grand council of the ministers, and deliberate in Committee, on the measures to be taken. This body sat during the night, under the presi- dency of Cambaceres, Arch Chancellor of the empire. The first thing that was done in this committee was to de- vise and arrange every possible means of resisting the in- vasion of the allies and the Bourbons ; and Lafayette was foremost in giving the Government, for this purpose, every thing that could be asked. But it was apparent, from the representations of the ministers themselves, that they could carry on the war no longer. Lafayette then moved that a deputation should be sent to Napoleon, demanding liis abdication. The Arch Chancellor refused to put the motion ; but it was as much decided, as if it had been for- mally carried. The next morning, June 22d, the Emperor sent in his abdication, and Lafayette Vv'as on the committee that went to the Thuilleries to thank him for it, on behalf of the nation. It had been the intention of a majority of both chambers, from the moment of their convocation, to form a free con- stitution for the country, and to call tlie whole people to arms to resist the invasion. In both of these great purposes, they had been constantly opposed by Bonaparte, and in the few hurried and anxious days that preceded the battle of Waterloo, there had been time to do very little. There was now nothing but confusion. A project was arranged to place Lafayette at the head of atTairs ; because it was known that he could carry with him the confidence of the nation, and especially that of the National Guards, whom he would immediately have called out en masse. But a scene of most unworthy intrigues was immediately begun. A crude, pro- visional government was established, with the infamous Fouche, as its President, which lasted only a few days, and whose principal measure was the sending of a deputation to the aUied powers, of which Lafayette was the head, to en- deavor to stop the invasion of France. TJiis of coiirse fail- LA FAYETTE. 377 ed, as had been foreseen ; Paris surrendered on the 3d ot July, and what remained of the respresentative government, which Bonaparte had created for his own purposes, but which Lafayette had turned against him, was soon after- wards dissolved. Its doors were found guarded on the morn- ing of the 8th, but by what authority has never been known ; and the members met at Lafayette's house, entered their formal protest, and went quietly to their own homes. Lafayette retired^immediately to La Grange, from which, in fact, ht! had l)een only a month absent, and resumed at once his agricultural employments. There, in the midst of a family of twenty children and graBd children, who all look up to him as their patriarchal chief, he lives in a simple and sincere happiness rarely granted to those, who have borne such a leading part in the troubles and sufferings of a great period of political revolution. Since 1817 he has been twice elected to the Chamber of Deputies, and in ail his votes has shown himself constant to his ancient principles. When the ministry proposed to establish a censorship of the press, he resisted them in an able speech ; but Lafayette was never a factious man, and therefore he has never made any fnrther opposition to the present order of things in France, than his conscience and his official place required. That he does not approve the present constitution of the monarchy, or the political principles and management of the existing government, his votes as a deputy, and his whole life, plainly show ; and that his steady and temperate oppo- sition is matter of serious anxiety to the family now on the throne is apparent, from their conduct towards him during the last nine years, and their management of the public press since he has been in this country. If he chose to make him- self a Tribune of the people, he might at any moment be- come formidable ; but he trusts rather to the progress of general intelligence and political wisdom throughout the na- tion, which he feels sure will, at last, bring his country to the practically free government, he has always beeh ready to sacrifice his life to purchase for it. To this great result he looks forward, as Madame de Stael has well said of him, with the entire confidence a pious man enjoys in a future life ; but, when he feels anxious and impatient to hastea onward to it, he finds a wisdom tempered by long experi- ence stirring within him, which warns him, in the beautiful language of Milton, that " they also serve who only stand and wait." .32* 3^S LA FAYETTE. This is the distinguished personage, who, after an absence of eight and thirty years, is now come to visit the nation, for whose independence and freedom he hazarded whatever is most vakied in human estimation, ahnost half a century ago. He comes, too, at the express invitation of the entire peo- ple ; he is literally the " Guest of the Nation;" but the guest, it should be remembered, of another generation, thaii the one he originally came to serve. We rejoice at it. We rejoice, in common with the thousands who throng his steps wherever he passes, that we are permitted to olfer this tri- bute of a gratitude and veneration, which cannot be misin- terpreted, to one, who sviffered with our fathers for our sake ; but we rejoice yet more for the moral effect it cannot fail to produce on us, both as individuals and as a people. For it is no common spectacle, which is now placed before each of us for our instruction. We are permitted to see one, who, by mere force of principle, by plain and resolved in- tegrity, has passed with perfect consistency, through more remarkable extremes of fortune, than any man now alive, or, perhaps, any man on record. We ire permitted to see one who has borne a leading and controlling part in two hemispheres, and in the two most important revolutions the world has yet seen, and has come forth from both of them without the touch of dishonor. We are permitted to see that man, who first put in jeopardy his rank and fortune at home, in order to serve as a volunteer in the cause of Free Institutions in America, and afterwards hazarded his life at the bar of the National Assemby, to arrest the same cause, when it was tending to excess and violence. We are per- mitted to see the man, who, after three years of unbroken pohtical triumph, stood in the midst of half a million of his countrymen, comprehending whatever was great, wise, and powerful in the nation, with the oriflamme of the monarchy at his feet, and the confidence of all France following his words, as he swore on their behalf to a free constitution ; and yet remained undazzled and unseduced by his vast, his irresistible populurity. We are permitted to see the man, who, for the sake of the same principles to which he had thus sworn, and in less than three years afterwards, was con- demned to such obscure sufferings, that his very existence became doubtful to the world, and the place of his confine- ment was effectually hidden from the inquiries of his friends, who sent emissaries over half Europe to discover it ; and i)jet remained unshaken and undismayed, constantly refu- LA FAYETTE. 379 sing ail appearance of compromise with his persecutors and oppressors. We are, in short, permitted to see a man, who has professed, amidst glory and suffering, in triumph and in disgrace, the same principles of political freedom on both sides of the Atlantic ; who has maintained the same tone, the same air, the same open confidence, amidst the ruins of the Bastille, in the Champ de Mars, under the despotism of Bonaparte, and in the dungeons of Olmutz. We maybe allowed, too, to add, that we rejoice in Gen- eral Lafayette's visit on his own account. He enjoys a sin- gular distinction : for it is a strange tiling in the providence of God, one that never happened before, and will, probably, never happen again, that an individual from a remote quar- ter of the world, having assisted to lay the foundation of a great nation, should be permitted thus to visit the posterity of those he served, and witness on a scale so vast, the work oi his own sacrifices ; the result of grand principles in gov- ernment for which he contended before their practical effect had jjbeen tried ; the growth and maturity of institutions, which he assisted to establish, when their operation could be calculated only by the widest and most clear sighted cir- cumspection. We rejoice in it, for it is, we doubt not, the most gratifying and appropriate reward, that could be offer- ed to a spirit like his. In the beautiful phrase which Taci- tus has applied to Germanicus, fruiiur Jama ; for he must be aware, that the ocean which rolls between us and Eu- rope, operates like the grave on all feelings of passion and party, and that the voice of gratitude and admiration, which now rises to greet him, from every city, every village, and* every heart, of this wide land, is as pure and sincere as the voice of posterity. Major-Geoeral io the American Army. Frederick William Steuben was a native of Prussia, and born in the year 1735. Being designed for the profes- sion of arms, he received a military education, and was ear- ly engaged in military employments. His military science, undoubted bravery, and assiduous attention to duty, did not escape the penetration of the great Frederick ; and soon procured for the young Baron the conffdence of his sove- 380 BARON DE STEUBEN. reign, and the most honorable preferment. For many years, he served in the memorable campaigns of his sove- reign, the greatest commander of the age, with distinguish- ed reputation. This was a school, in which the dullest could hardly fail of acquiring experience and knowledge in the art of war; and at the same time opened a field, suffi- ciently capacious for the most ardent aspirant for military fame. The war, which was terminated by the peace of 1763, in which France, Austria, Russia, Sweden and Saxo- ny, were united against Prussia, and which was commenced on the part of the allies, for the conquest and spoliation of the dominions of his Prussian majesty, afforded the boldest and most successful campaigns, and the most splendid vic- tories, of any in modern times. The exertions of the king of Prussia, in sustaining himself, with the assistance of Great Britain, as his ally, against so many, and so powerful enemies, was truly astonishing. But his active genius over- came all difficulties, taught his enemies to respect him, and secured to him a mihtary reputation, not second to any com- mander of the age. To have served with this great gener- al, in his memorable campaigns, and taken a part in such great and splendid victories as those of Prague, Lissa, Cre- veit, Zoondorff, Mindin and Torgau, was sufficient to confer experience, and estabhsh a mihtary character, of no ordi- nary distinction. But to have performed this service, under a commander so severe, with success and honor, and to have secured his highest confidence, was a more conclusive proof of military genius and talents. And that Baron Steu- ben did this, is sufficiently evident, from the single fact, was there no other, of his having served as aid to his Prussian majesty ; who would have no officer around his person, that did not sustain the first reputation, for courage and capaci- ty. The Baron rose to the high rank of lieutenant-general m the Prussian service. At the breaking out of the American war, there was a general peace in Europe ; which favored the wishes of Siose patriots and adventurers in that hemisphere, who de- sired to signalize their valor and patriotism, in assisting an infant people, struggling for their rights. Among the nu- merous foreigners, who honored the American cause, by crossing the Atlantic to serve it, some no doubt acted from no other motive, than those which usually govern the con- duct of mihtary adventurers. Many however, without doubt, were influenced by more noble and exalted motives ; BARON DE STEUBEN. 381 a rcgaid for liberty, and a sincere desire to establish it in the new world ; which might serve both as an asylum, and an example for the old. And, notwithstanding the arbitra- ry government of Prussia, under which he had lived, such were the sentiments and views of Baron de Steuben. His enlightened mind led him to esteem civil liberty, as the high- est earthly good ; and he was desirous of consecrating his attachment to it, by his services, if not by his bloood. He sailed from France to the United States, and arrived at Portsmouth, in New-Hampshire, in November, 1777. He brought with him strong recommendations from the Ameri- can commissioners at Paris, and others, to congress. Not- withstanding ^vhich, how^ever, he informed that body, that he wished for no rank, or compensation, and only requested permission, as a volunteer, to render what service he could to the American army, and the cause in which the country was engaged. The following winter he spent at Valley Forge ; where the American army was in winter quarters, under Washington. As is well known, the army at this time was in a most suffering condition ; being in want of provisions, clothing, and almost every thing which their com- fort required. But, notwithstanding these discouraging cir- cumstances. Baron de Steuben exerted himself, with great assiduity, to improve the discipline and manoeuvres of the army. From his great military science and experience, his prudent conduct, and the interest he manifested in the cause he had espoused, he soon acquired the confidence of Wash- ington. Early in the year 1778, General Conway resigned the ofhce of inspector-general ; and Washington, sensible of the ^reat military skill and acquirements of Steuben, im- mediately recommended him to congress, for that important post : which was soon after conferred on him, with the rank of Major-general. Being clothed with authority, and it being now his parties ular duty to attend ta the discipline of the troops, his dis- tinguished talents as a tactician, were soon rendered con- spicuous in the improved disciphne of the troops. He ex- erted himself to introduce a uniform and improved system of manoeuvres, and by his skill, perseverance and industry, effected, during the continuance of the troops at Valley Forge, a most important and advantageous improvement in the discipline of all ranks of tl>e army. After General Arnold had treacherously deserted his post at West Point, the Baron never failed to manifest his 382 BARON DE STEUBEN. indignation and abhorrence of his name and character, and while inspecting Col. Sheldon's regiment of hght-horse, the name of Arnold struck his ear. The soldier was ordered to the front ; he was a fine looking fellow, his horse and equip- ments in excellent order — " Change your name, brother soldier," said the Baron, " you are too respectable to bear the name of a traitor." " What name shall I take, Gener- al ?" " Take any other name ; mine is at your service." Most cheerfully was the ofter accepted, and his name was entered on the roll as Steuben. He or his children now enjoy the land given to him in the town of Steuben by the Baron. This brave soldier met him after the war. "I am well settled, General," said he, " and have a wife and son; I have called my son after you, Sir." " I thank you, my friend; what name have you given the boy 1" "I cal- led him Baron — what else could I call him ?" When Sir Henry Clinton evacuated Philadelphia, for New-York, and was pursued by Washington, Steuben ac- companied the American army ; and although he had no particular command, he volunteered in the action at Mon- mouth. He continued his exertions to improve the disci- pline of the army, and to introduce his system, and thus es- tablish uniformity throughout the different corps of the army: and for this purpose, in 1779, an abstract of his sys- tem of discipline and tactics was published, in compliance with the wishes of the commander in chief, and of con- gress. This, being put into the hands of all the officers, had a wonderful influence in improving, and giving uniformity to the different corps of the array. In October 1780, after the defeat and dispersion of the southern army at Camden, under General Gates, great anx- iety was felt for tlie fate of the southern states ; and con- gress, in a particular manner, directed their attention to the state of the war in that department. General Greene was appointed to supersede Gates ; Major Lee was promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and ordered to join the southern army, with his legionary corps ; and Baron de Steu- ben was directed to proceed to Virginia, to organize, from the militia and other elements which the state aflbrded, the means of defence against the forces of the enemy, then in the state, and threatening the destruction of its principal ?.owns. While upon this duty, a regiment had been collected, and was paraded on the point of marching, when a wcH- BARON DE STEUBEN. 383 looking man on horseback, rode up and informed the Baron that he had brought him a recruit. " I thank you, Sir," said the Baron, " with all my heart— where is your man, Colo- nel ?" for he was -a colonel in the mihtia. " Here, Sir," or- dering his boy to dismount. The Baron's countenance changed, for he was too honest to suffer an imposition to be practised on the public. A sergeant was ordered to meas- ure the lad, whose shoes, when off, discovered something by which his stature had been increased. The Baron, pat- ting the child's head, with his hands trembling with rao-e, asked him how old he was ? He was very young, quite a child. " Sir," said he, to the militia colonel, " you must have supposed me to be a rrscal." " Oh no ! Baron, T did not." *' Then, Sir, I suppose you to be a rascal, an infa- mous rascal, thus to attempt to cheat your country. Ser- geant, take off this fellow's spurs and place him in the ranks, that we have a man able to serve instead of an in- fant, whom he would basely have made his substitute ! Go, my boy, take the colonel's spurs and horse to his wife ; make my compliments, and say, her husband has gone to fight for the freedom of his country, as an honest man should do," — and instantly ordered — " Platoons ! to the right wheel — forward, march!" Colonel Gaskins, who commanded the regiment, fearino- the consequences, after marching some distance, allowed the man to escape, who immediately made application to the civil authority for redress ; but Gov. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and others, not doubting the purity of the Barons motive, and fully appreciating his honest zeal, prevented any disagreeable results attending this high-handed exertion of mihtary power. Great apprehensions were felt for the safety of Rich- mond, threatened by the British General Leslie at Ports- mouth ; but about the time the Baron arrived at the capital of Virginia, the enemy left Portsmouth, which prevented the necessity of those measures which had been planned for his expulsion, and Virginia, for a short time, remained tranquil. Early in January, '81, however, this repose was disturbed by the arrival of the traitor Arnold in the Chesa- peake, who landed his forces on the James River, a few miles below Richmond. His ravages were immediately felt at Richmond, Smithfield, and other places. Baron de vSteu- ben exerted himself to collect and organize a force of mili- tia to oppose his destructive progrese*. This induced Ar- 384 BARON DE STEUBEN. nold to retire to Portsmouth, and commence works of de- fence. But tiie lailiiia came in slow, and a considerable portion of whicli being without arms, the Baron could do no more than protect the country from the predatory incur- sions of small parties. These movements in Virginia indu- ced congress to order La Fayette to the south, to oppose Arnold, with the expected co-operation of the French fleet. All the troops of tlie continental establishment of Virginia, being under General Greene, in South Carolina, the defence of the state, against the depredations of the enemy, rested on the militia, of which the Baron had collected about 2,000 ; one half were on the north side of James River, un- der General Nelson, and with the other half the Baron made an attempt to protect Petersburgh, but his means being wholly inadequate to the object, he was obliged to retreat, and suffer the enemy to enter the town. Previous to this, Arnold had been reinforced by General Phillips, who had taken the chief command. The Baron could do no more than watch the motions of the enemy, and check the pre- datory incursions of small parties. On tlie arrival of the Marquis Lafayette, with a small force of regulars, he joined Steuben, and took upon him the chief command. Their united force checked the pro- gress of General PhiUips, and compelled him to turn his steps towards City-Point, where his fleet lay. In the various marches and counter-marches which cha- racterized the operations between Lafayette and Lord Corn- wallis, who soon after assumed the command of the British forces in Virgnia, the Baron Steuben afforded the most prompt and ready assistance to the young Marquis. He was stationed at Point Fork with five hundred new levies, to protect the American stores, when I'arleton was ordered to destroy them ; and as the enemy approached, being led into a belief that the whole British army was near, he deem- ed it advisable to make a rapid retreat during the night, leaving all the stores to fall a sacrifice to the en my. But though he lost the stores, he saved his men, and succeeded in joining the Marquis, at the same time tl)at he received a reinforcement of the rifle corps, under Colonel Clark, which enabled the Marquis to assume a more imposing attitude. The Baron continued to co-operate with Lafayette in the subsequent events of the campaign, which was terminated by the siege of Yorktown. He generally had the command of militia, or of new levies, and was improving their disci- BARON DE STEUBEN. 386 pime whilst he was aiding the operations of the Maquis. He was present during the siege of Yorktown, and elertcd himself with great ardor in the various operations, and com- manded in the trenches on the day the enemy surrendered, and was entitled to a share in the honor of this momora« ble siege, which so gloriously terminated the great struggle in which the country was engaged. " At the siege of Yorktown the Baron was in the trench, cs, at the head of his division, and received the first over- ture of Lord Cornwallis, to capitulate. At the relieving hour, next morning, the Marquis de la Fayette approached at the head of his division, to relieve him. The Baron re- fused to quit the trenches, assigning as a reason the etiquette in Europe, that the offer to capitulate had been made during his tonr of duty, and that it was a point of honor of which he would not deprive his troops, to remain in the trenches till the capitulation was signed or hostilities recommenced. The dispute was referred to the commander in chief, and the Baron was permitted to remain till the British flag was struck. While on this duty, the Baron, per- ceiving himself in danger from a shell thrown from the en- emy, threw himself suddenly into the trench ; General Wayne, in the jeopardy and hurry of the moment, fell on liim ; the Baroji, turning his eyes, saw it was his brigadier, * I always knew you were brave, general,' said he, '* but I did not know you were so perfect in every point of duty, you cover your general's retreat in the best manner possible.' "'^ The Baron returned to the northward, and remained with the army, continually employed, till the peace, in perfecting its discipline. " At the disbandment of the revolutionary army, when inmates of the same tent, or hut, for seven long years, were separating, and probably forever ; grasping each other's hand, in silent agony, I saw," says Dr. Thatcher in his Mili- tary Journal, " the Baron's strong endeavors to throw some ray of sunshine on the gloom, to mix some drop of cordial with the painful draught. To go, they knew not whithei* ; all recollection of the art to thrive by civil occupations, los4, or to the youthful never known. Their hard-earned milita- ry knowledge worse than useless, and with their badge oi' brotherhood, a mark at which to point the finger of suspicion —ignoble, vile suspicion ! to be cast out on a world, long since *Tbacher*s MiUtary Jaurnal. 33 m BARON DE STEUBEN, by them forgotten. Severed from friends, and all the joys and griefs which soldiers feel ! Griefs, while hope remained — when shared by numbers, almost joys ! To go in silence and alone, and poor and hopeless ; it was too hard ! On that sad day how many hearts were wrung ! I saw it all, nor will the scene be ever blurred or blotted from my view. To a stern old officer, a Lieutenant-Colonel Cochran, from the Green Mountains, who had met danger and difficulty almost in every step, from his youth, and from whose furrow- ed visage, a tear till that moment had never fallen ; the good Baron said — what could be said, to lessen deep distress ? For myself, said Cochran, " I care not, I can stand it ; but my wife and daughters are in the garret of that wretched tavern. I know not where to remove, nor have I means for their removal !" • Come, my friend,' said the Baron, 'let us go — I will pay my respects to Mrs. Cochran and your daughters, if you please.' " I followed to the loft, the low- er rooms being all filled with soldiers, with drunkenness, despair and blasphemy. And when the Baron left the poor Unhappy cast-aw ays, he left hope with them, and all he had to give." A black man, with wounds unhealed, wept on the wharf — (for it was at Newburgh where this tragedy was acting) — there was a vessel in the stream, bound to the place where he once had friends. He had not a dollar to pay his passage, and he could not walk. Unused to tears, 1 saw them trickle down this good man's cheeks as he put into the hands of the black man the last dollar he possessed. The negro hailed the sloop, and cried, ' God Almighty bless you, master Baron !' What good and honorable man, civil or military, before the accursed party-spirit murdered friendships, did not re- spect and love the Baron 7 Who most 1 Those who knew him best. After the peace the Baron retired to a farm in the vicinity of New York, where, with forming a system for the organization and discipline of the militia, books, cliess, and the frequent visits of his numerous friends, he passed his time as agreeably as a frequent want of funds would permit. The State of New-Jersey had given him a small improved farm, and the State of New-York gave him a tract of sixteen thousand acres of land in the county of Oneida. After the general government was in full operation, by the exertions of Col. Hamilton, patronized and enforced by President Washington, a grant of two thousand five hundred c. .for the purpose of effecting a descen>. JOHN PAUL JONES. 395 But, in a short time after this, hostilities took place be- tween France and England in consequence of the action with La Belle Poulc. This not a little embarrassed the Minister of the Marine, and the difficulty was not diminish- ed by the inteUigence brought by the Prince, who asserted that the Dutch would not permit the Indienne to be equip- ped. I now received orders to escort a fleet of transports and merchantmen from L' Orient, destined for different ports between that and Bordeaux ; and after that I was to chase away the English cruisers from the Bay of Biscay, and then to return for further orders. After executing this commission, on my representing how necessary it was to make a diversion in favor of the count D'Orvilliers, then cruising in the Channel, with sixty-six ships of the line, I received a carte blanche during six weeks, without any other restriction than that of repairing to the Texel, by the first of October. By this time, I re- ceived intimation from England, that eight East Indiamen ^ere soon expected on the coast of Ireland, near to Limer- ick. This was an object of great attention ; and as there were two privateers at Port L'Orient ready for sea, Le Mon- sieur, of forty guns, and Le Granville, of fourteen, the cap- tains of which offered to place themselves under my orders, I accepted the proposition. But the French commissary who superintended the naval department, acted with great impropriety on this, as well as on many former occasions. The little squadron at length set sail from the road of Groays, on the fourteenth of August, 1779 ; but we had no sooner proceeded to the north of the mouth of the Channel, than Le Monsieur and Le Granville abandoned me during the night, and Le Cerf soon after imitated their conduct. I was extremely anxious to cruise for a fortnight in the lati- tude of Limerick ; but the captain of the Alliance, after objecting to this, also left me during the night ; and as I had now with me only the Pallas and the Vengeance, I was obliged to renounce my original intentions. I took two prizes on the coast of Ireland ; and, within sight of Scotland, came up and seized two privateers, of twenty-two guns each, which, with a brigantine, I sent to Bergen, in Norway, according to the orders I had received from Dr. FrankUn : these prizes, however, were restored to the English by the king of Denmark. I >Vhen I entered the North Sea, I captured several ves* 3^ JOHN PAUL JONES, sels, and learned by my prisoners, as well as by Ihe news« papers, that the cap lal of Scotland and the port of Leith were left totally d fenceless. I also understood at the same time, that my i Uwmation relative to the eight India- men was correct ; t' ey having entered Limerick three days after I had been obliged to leave the neighborhood of that port. As there was only a twenty gun ship and two cutters in Leith Road, I deemed it practicable to lay those two places under contribution. I had indeed no other force to execute this project, than die Richard, the Pallas, and the Ven- geance ; but I well knew, that in order to perform a bril- liant action, it is uot always necessary to possess great means. I therefor held out the prospect of great booty to the captains under my command ; and, as to myself, I was satisfied with the idea of making a diversion in favor of the Count D'Orvilliers, who was then in the Channel. I now distributed red clothes to my men, and put some of them on board the prizes, so as to give them the appear- ance of transports full of troops. All the necessary ar- rangements were ilso taken to carry the enterprise into ex- ecution : but, about a quarter of an hour before the descent was to have been made, a sudden tempest arose, and drove me out of the Forth, or Edinburgh Frith, and so violent was the storm that one of my prizes was lost. This did not, however, deter me, notwithstanding the smallness of my forces, from forming different enterprizes of a similar nature : but I could not induce the captains of the Pallas and Vengeance to second my views ; I was therefore obliged to content myself by spreading alarm on the coast, and destroying the shipping, which I did as far as Hull. On the morning of the 23d September, while I was cruis- ing in the latitude of Flamboroug Head, which I had ap- pointed as a place of rendezvous for my little squadron, andl where I hoped to be rejoined by the Alliance and Le Cerf, and also to fall in with the Baltic fleet ; this convoy accor- dingly appeared, at a time when I had been aband.oned by several of my consorts, had lost two boats, with their crews, , who had run away on the coast of Ireland, and when a third, with eighteen men on board, was in chase of a merchantman to the windward, leaving me with a scanty crew, and only a single lieutenant and some inferior officers, on board. ft wag about twQ o'clock in the aftejnoon tha$ the Baltic JOHN PAUL JONES. 59& fleet appeared in view ; I then happened to have the wind ©f it, and was about two leagues distant from the coast of England. I learned from my prisont;rs, that the convoy was escorted by the Serapis, a new vessel, that could mount fifty-six guns, but then carried only forty-four, on two decks, the lower battery carrying eighteen pounders, and the Countess of Scarborough, a new twenty-two gun ship. We were no sooner descried than the armed vessels stood out to sea, while the trade took refuge under the can- non of Scarborough Castle. As there was but little wind, I could not come up with the enemy before night. The moon did not rise until eight, and at the close of day the Serapis and Countess of Scar- borough tacked and stood in for the fortress. I was lucky enough to discover this manoeuvre by means of my night glass, without which I should have remained in ignorance of it. On this I immediately altered my course six points, with a view of cutting off the enemy ; which was no soon- er perceived by the Pallas, than it was supposed my crew had mutinied, which induced her captain to haul his wind, and stand out to sea while the Alliance lay to, to windward, at a considerable distance : and, as the captain of the ves- sel had never paid any attention whatever to the signals of the Richard since her leaving France, I was obliged to run all risks and enter into action with the Richard only, to pre- vent the enemy's escape. 1 accordingly began the engagement at 7 o'clock at night, within pistol shot of the Serapis, and sustained the brunt of her fire, and also that of the Countess of Scarborough^ which raked the Richard, by means of the broadsides she fired into her stern. It ought to be here remarked, that the Richard, properly speaking, was only a thirty-four gun frigate, carrying only twelve-pounders ; but six eighteen-pounders had been pla- ced in the gun room, in case of being obliged to recur to a cannonade in an enemy's harbor. The sea being very calm during the engagement, I hoped to be able to derive great advantage from this circumstance ; but instead of this^, they burst at the commencement of the action, and the officers and men, posted at this service, and who were se- lected as the best of the whole crew, were either killed, wounded, or aifrighted to such a degree, that none of there were of any service during the rest of the engagement. In this unfortunate extremity, having to ctntenil wfth S96 JOHN PAUL JONES. fjiree times my own strength, the Richard being in imminent danger of going to tlie bottom, and her guns being no longer in a condition to return the enemy's fire, I had recourse to a dangerous expedient, to grapple with the Serapis, in order, on the one hand, to render her superiority useless, and, on the other, to cover ourselves from the fire of her consort. This manoeuvre succeeded most admirably, and I fastened the Serapis, with my own hands to the Richard. On this, the captain of the Countess of Scarborough, who was a natural son of the Duke of Northumberland, conducted himself like a man of sense, and from that moment ceased to fire upon us, well knowing that he must at the same time damage the Serapis. That vessel being to windward at the moment we had grappled, instantly dropped her anchor, hoping by this to disengage herself from us ; but this did not answer her ex- pectations, and the engagement from that moment, consis- ted of the discharge of great guns, swivels, musquetry, and grenades. — ^The English at first, testified a desire to board the Richard, but they no sooner saw the danger than they desisted. The enemy however, possessed the advantage of their two batteries, besides the guns on their forecastle/ and quarter-deck, while our cannon was either burst or aban- doned, except four pieces on the forecastle, which were also relinquished during some minutes. Mr. Mease, the officer who commanded these guns, had been dangerously wounded on the head, and having, at that period, no greater object to occupy my attention, I myself took his post. A few sailors came to my assistance of their own accord, and served the two guns next to the enemy with surprising courage and address. A short time after this, I received sufficient assistance to be able to remove one of the fore- castle guns from the opposite side ; but we had not strength sufficient to remove the other, so that we could only bring three guns to bear upon the enemy during the remainder of the action. The moon, wiiich as I have already observed, rose at eight, beheld the two vessels surrounded by flame, in con- sequence of the explosion of the cannon. It so happened at this period, that the mainmast of the Serapis, which was ]»ainted yellow, appeared extremely distinct, so as to form an excellent mark ; on this, I pointed one of my guns at it^ taking care to ram /io»ne the shot. In the mean time, the tw© oth^ pieees were admirably served against the int JOHN PAUL JONES. 397 swept its forecastle, by means of an oblique fire. The iop^^ also seconded ps bravely, by means of musquetry and swiv- els, and also threw a multitude of grenades so as greatly to annoy the enemy. By these means they were driven from their quarters, notwithstanding their superiority in point of men and artillery. < The captain of the Serapis, after consulting with his officers, resolved to strike ; but an unlucky accident, which occurred on board the Richard, prevented this : a bullet having destroyed one of our pumps, the carpenter was seized with a panic, and told the gunner, and another petty officer, that we were sinking. Some one observed at the same time, that both I and the lieutenant were killed : in consequence of which the gunner, considering himself as commanding officer, ran instantly to the quarter-deck, in order to haul down the American colours, which he would have actually hauled down, had not the flag-staff been carried away at the time the Richard grappled with the Serapis. The captain, on hearing the gunner express his wishes to surrender, in consequence of his supposing that we were sinking, instantly addressed himself to me and exclaimed, *' Do you ask for quarter ? — Do you ask for quarter 7" I was so occupied, at this period, in serving the three pieces of cannon on the forecastle, that I remained totally ignorant of what had occurred on deck ; I replied, however, " I do not dream of surrendering, but I am determined to make you strike !" The English commander, however, conceived some faint hopes, in consequence of what had been said, that the Richard was actually sinking ; but when he perceived that her fire did not diminish, he immediately ordered his men from the forecastle, where they kept up such a tremendous discharge against the Richard, that it at once indicated vengeance and despair. It has already been observed, that when I commenced the action, the Pallas was at a great distance to windward, while the Alliance lay to in the same position. When the captain of the former perceived that the engagement took place, he spoke to his consort ; but they lost a great deal of time, audit was not until now, that they came within gun shot of the Countess of Scarboroucrh and a kind ofrunnma fight took place between the latter and the Pallas. The Alliance followed them, and on passing us, fired a broad- 34 393. JOHN PAUL JONES. side, which, as we were closely engaged with the enemy, did no more harm to them than to us. The battle still continued with uncommon ardor between us and the enemy, whose or burned, and her main- mast cut away, by degrees, by our bullets ; while the heavier metal of the Serapis drove in on one of the sides of my ship, and met with little or no resistance. In short, our helm was rendered useless, and the poop was only supported by an old and shattered piece of timber, which alone prevent- ed it from giving way. At length, after a short engagement, the Cojintess of Scarborough surrendered to the Pallas ; it was then that the captain of the latter asked the commander of the Alli- ance, " whether he would take charge of the prize, or sail and give succor to the commodore V' On this, the Alliance began to stand backwards and forwards under her topsails, until having got to the windward, she came down, and dis- charged a second broadside against the fore-part of the Se- rapis, and the hind-part of the Richard. On this I and sev- eral other persons begged, for God's sake, that they would cease firing, and send a few men on board of us ; but he disobeyed, and fired another broadside as he passed along; after which he kept at a most respectful distance, and took great care not to expose himself during the remainder of the action, without receiving a single siiot, or having a man wounded during the whole enoaoement. The idea that we were sinking had taken sneh possession of the armourer's mind, that he actually opened the scuttles, and made all prisoners, to the number of a hundred, sally forth, in opposition to my reiterated orders. This event might have proved fatal, had I not taken advantage of their afiright to station them at the pumps, where they displayed surprising zeal, appearing actually to forget their captivity ; for there was nothing to prevent their going on board the Serapis ; or, it was in then- power to put an end to the en- gagement in an instant, by either killing me, or throwing me into the sea. As our three quarter-deck guns continued to play without interruption on the enemy, raked her hinder parts, and dam- aged her mast in such a manner, that it was only supported from falling by the yards of our ship, while the tops poured in a continual discharge ; tlie fire of the English began to deaden in such a manner as to bereave them of all hopes of success. JOHN PAUL JONES. 3^9 A circumstance occurred, however, that contributed not a little to the victory of the Richard : this was the extraor- dinary intrepidity and presence of mind of a Scotch sailor, posted in the main top : this brave fellow, of his own accord, seized a lighted match, and a basket of hand-grenades, with which he advanced alonjr the main-yard, until he had arrived exactly above the enemy's deck. As the flames of their parapets and shrouds, added to the light of the moon, enabled him to distinguish objects, the moment he perceived two or three persons assembled together, he instantly dis- charged a hand grenade among them ; he had even address enough to drop several through their scuttles, and one of them set fire to the cartridge of an eighteen pounder belong- ing to the lower deck, the discharge of which scorched sev- eral of the crew. On this, the captain of the Serapis came upon the quar- ler-deck, lowered his flag, and asked for quarter, at the very moment his main-mast had fallen into the sea. He then came on board with his officers, and presented me with his sword. While this was transacting, eight or ten men be- longing to the Richard seized on the Serapis' shallop, which had been at anchor during the engagement, and made off". It was more than eleven o'clock when the battle ended ; it had consequently lasted more than four hours. My ship had no more than 322 men, good, bad and indiflerent, on board, at the commencement of the engagement; and the sixty of these, posted in the gun-room when the gun burst, having been of no further service during the action, could not be properly considered as forming] part of the crew op- posed to the Serapis, which had received a supply of English sailors while in Denmark; and it appeared, indeed, by the muster roll, that there were upwards of 400 on board of her, ^hen the first gun was fired. Her superiority was still more considerable in respect to guns, without mentioning her greater weight in metal, which surpassed ours beyond all comparison. Thus, setting aside the damage done by the Countess of Scarborough, during the forepart of the ac- tion, and also by the three broadsides from the Alliance, it will be easy to form a due judgment of the combat between the Richard and the Serapis, and set a proper value on a victory obtained over a force so greatly superior, after such a long, bloody and close engagement. The Vengeance, a corvette, mounting twelve three poun- ders, and the boat belonging to the pilot, with my second 400 JOHN PAUL JONES. lieutenant, another officer, and tfen men, \vould"liave been of singular service, either in pursuing and capturing the con- voy, or by r€-enforcing me : but, strange as it may appear, the fact is, that they remained all this time mere speculators of the action, in which they took no interest, keeping them- selves to windward, and out of all danger ; while, on the other hand, the conduct of the Alliance had, at least, the appearance of proceeding from a principle worse than io-no- rance or insubordination. It must appear clear, from what has been already said, that if tlie enemy's ports were not annoyed, the Baltic fleet taken, and the eight Indiamen seized, the blame did not lie with me. It is but justice, however, to observe, that some of my of- ficers conducted themselves admirably during the action. The lieutenant, Mr, Dale, being left alone at the guns be- low, and finding he could not rally his men, came upon deck, and superintended the working of the pumps, notwithstand- ing he had been wounded. Notwithstanding all his efforts, the hold was more than half full of water when the enemy surrendered. During the last three hours of the action both the vessels were on fire ; by throwing water on the flames, it was some- times supposed that they were quenched, but they always Ibroke forth anew, and, on the close of the action, we ima- gmed it wholly extinguished. It was very calm during the remainder of the night ; but when the wind began to blow, our danger became imminent, the fire having penetrated the timbers, and spread until it had reached within a few inches of the powder-magazine. On this, the ammunition was brought on the deck, to be thrown in the sea, in case of ex- tremity ; but we, at length, succeeded in our endeavors, by cutting away a few planks, and employing our buckets. Next morning the weather was hazy and not a sail to be seen. We then examined the Richard to see if it were possible to carry her into any port. This proving wholly impracticable, all the boats were employed in carrying the wounded on board the other vessels. This occupied much of our time, and on the succeeding day, notwithstanding all our pumps had been at work, the hold was entirely full of water, and the vessel soon after sunk. On this occasion I could only save the signal flags, and I lost all my property, amounting to more than 5,000 livres. On this I instantly assumed the command of the Serapis^ iOHN PAUL JONES. 401 on which we erected jury masts ; but the sea was so tem- pestuous that it was ten days before we reached the Texel. No sooner was my arrival known than forty-two vessels, forming different squadrons of frigates, were fitted out from the various ports in Great Britain against me, and two of these were stationed during three months at the mouths of the Texel and the Fly. My situation in Holland influen- ced not a little the conduct of the belligerent powers, at the same time that it excited the attention of all Europe. The English minister at the Hague addressed different me- morials to the states general, in all which lie insisted that the Serapis and the Countess of Scarborough " should be delivered up to the king, his master ;" and he, at the same time, claimed me under the appellation of " tlie Scotch pi- rate." Instead of listening to these propositions, the states gen^ eral permitted me to land my wounded on the island of the Texel, which was delivered up to me for that purpose ; on this the British government became furious, and Holland was reduced to so critical a situation, that the states were under the necessity of insisting that I should either leave the Texel, or produce a commission from his most christiaa majesty, and hoist the French flag. * Tlip prince of Orange, who was attached to the Eiighsh interest, sent the Vice Admiral Rhynst, who was also En- glish in his heart, to assume the command of tlie Dutch squadron in the Texel, composed of thirteen two-deckers. Tins officer drew up Ins squadron, during six weeks, in such a manner as to menace us ; and, in short, did every thing in his power to render my situation both dangerous and chsa- greeable. In the mean time I had an interview with the Duke de la Vanguyon, at Amsterdam, who intimated to me, that it was the intention of the king of France that I should hoist his flag during my stay in the Texel, as he imagined, that my prizes would assuredly fall into the enemy's hands if I tried to escape — I, however, refused this honor, as I had declar- ed myself an American officer, and had given a copy of my commission from congress to the Dutch admiral. It wa« contrived, however, at length, that I should go on board t\m frigate AUiance, the captain of which had been sent to I'aris, to give an account of his conduct, and where I should stiH carry my former coloursj while the prizes should ltf)isl ihm Frencb flag. 34* 402 JOHN PAUL JONES. At length the wind becoming favorable, on the 27lh of February, 1779, the Alliance set sail after having lost all her anchors, one only excepted, in consequence of Admiral Rhynst's instructions to the pilot ; and it was at least an hundred to one, that we should fall in with the enemy. I, however, had the good fortune to escape, although the Al- liance passed the Straits of Dover^ within sight of the Eng- hsh squadron in the Downs. After getting clear of the Channel, I soon reached the latitude of Cape Finisterre. and entered the port of Corunna, January 16, 1780. On my return to France, I found that the French com- missary had made a private sale of my prizes to the king without consulting me. On this I repaired to Versailles, along with Dr. Franklin, but was received with great cool- ness by the minister of the marine. On this account I de- clined asking him to represent me to his majesty. This honor was conferred on me next day by the Prince de Beauveau, captain of the guards. The public received me at the opera, and all the public places where I appeared, with the most lively enthusiasm ; this, added to the very fa- vorable reception I received from his majesty, afibrded me singular satisfaction : and the minister of the marine from that moment paid me the most marked attention. The Count de Maurepas about this time intimated to me, that his majesty had resolved to confer some distinguished mark of his bounty and personal esteem on me ; this proved to be a sword, mounted with gold, on which was engraven the following flattering motto : — VINDICATI MARIS LUDOVICUS XVI. REMUNERATOR STRENUO VINDICI. The hilt was of gold, and the blade, &^c. were emblazon- ed with his majesty's arms, the attributes of war, and an emblematical representation of the alliance between France and America. The most Christian king, at the same time, transmitted a most admirable letter to congress, in which he offered to decorate me with the order of military merit. All this was extremely flattering, as Louis XVI. had never presented a sword to any other officer, and never conferred the cross, except on such officers as were invested with hig majesty's commission. The minister of the marine» a short time after this, loftt JOHN PAUL JONES. 403 ine tlio Ariel, a king's ship, carrying twenty guns, with which I sailed, October 8th, 1780, for America. The wind was at first favorable ; but I was soon after in danger of foundering on the Penmarks — and escaped only by cutting away my main and mizen masts. As soon as the storm aba- ted, we erected jury masts, and returned to refit; in short, it was the 18th of December before I could proceed for Philadelphia. During the voyage, I fell in with an English twenty gun ship, called the Triumph, and partly by stratagem, and part- ly by hard fighting, forced her to strike her flag ; but while we were about to-take possession of her, the captain, taking advantage of her superior sailing, made off, and escaped. On my arrival in America, the congress, on the represen- tation of the Chevalier De la Luzerne, passed a law to en- able me to accept the military order of France. The French minister, on this occasion, gave an entertainment, to which all the members of congress, and the principal inhabitants of Philadelphia, were invited ; after which I was invested, in their presence, with the decorations of the order. As the three ministers plenipotentiary from America had unfortunately disagreed, it necessarily follows that there would be some contradiction in respect to their reports con- cerning me. In consequence of this, the congress enjoin- ed the admiralty to inquire into the nature of my connec- tion with the court of France, and the reasons which had induced me to remain in Europe, and delay the convoy of the military stores appertaining to the United States. In consequence of the examination that ensued, and the re- port that was delivered in, the congress passed an act, dated April 14, 1781, in which I was thanked, in the most flatter- ing manner, ' for the zeal, the prudence, and the intrepidi- ty, with which I had sustained the honor of the American flag ; for my bold and successful enterprises, with a view to redeem from captivity the citizens of America, who had fallen into the power of the English, and for the eminent ser\'ices by which I had added lustre to my own character and the arms of America.' A committee of congress was also of opinion, ' that I deserved a gold medal, in remem- brance of my services.' On the 21st of June, 1781, I was appointed, by an unan- imous vote of congress, to the command of the America, a seventy-four gun ship, then building ; and on the birth of 404 JOHN PAUL JONES. the Dauphin, I, at my own expense, celebrated that happy event by royal salutes during the day, and a brilliant illu- mination in the evening, accompanied by nre-vi'orks. An unfortunate accident soon after this, deprived me of the command of that fine vessel : for the Magnifique, of 74 guns, belonging to the Marquis de Vaudreuil's fleet, hap- pening to be lost at Boston, the congress seized on this oc- casion to testify its gratitude to Jiis most christian majesty, by presenting him with the America to replace her. In the mean time, it was resolved to place a French frigate, called VIndiennc, with two or three armed vessels under my orders, in order to seize on Bermudas ; but, as this was never put into execution, I applied to con- gress for leave to serve on board the fleet of the Count d'Estaing, then destined for an expedition against Ja- jnaica. The Marquis de Vaudreuil received me with great dis- tinction on board his own ship, the Triumphant, where I , occupied the same cabin as the Baron de Viomcnil, who commanded the land forces. When we were in sight of Porto Rico, inteUigence was received, that Admirals Pigot and Hood were preparing to intercept us ; and as Don Sola- no, with the Spanish fleet, did not meet us at Porto Cabelio, according to his promise, many of the oificers, becoming disgusted with the enterprise, fell sick, and I myself was in a dangerous state ; but we were relieved from our disagree- able situation, by inteUigence from Europe that a general peace had taken place. This circumstance aftbrdcd me great pleasure ; as I now learned that Great Britain, after a loner and bloodv contest, had been forced to recognise the sovereignty and independence of the United States of America. On this, we repaired to St. Domingo, where I received every possible mark of esteem from Mr. De Bellecombe, the governor ; after a short stay, I embarked for Philadel- phia, penetrated with gratitude for the various marks of esteem I had received from all the French officers du- ring the five months I had been on board his majesty's squadron. I was unable to re-establish my health, during the rest of the suniprer, which I spent in Pennsylvania ; and I did not get welT until the autunm, when 1 recovered by means of th€ cold batlL I then demanded permission to return to Europe, on pur- BARRY. 405 pose to recover the prize-money due to myself, officers and sailors, which was granted me by an act of congress, dated at Prince-Town, November 1, 1783. On this, I embarked at Philadelphia, on board a packet- boat destined to Havre de Grace ; but being forced into Plymouth by contrary winds, I took post-horses for London, and then set out for Paris, and was received with great cor- diality by the ministry, Having at length received from the court of France the amount of the prizes, I returned to America on board a French packet-boat. JOHXT BARRVy Commodore in the American Navy. •' The father of the commodore was a respectable farmer in the county of Wexford, Ireland, where his son, the subject of this memoir, was born, in the year 1 745. After having received the first elements of an English education, to grat- ify his particular inclination for the sea, his father entered him into the merchant service. When about fifteen years ©f age, he arrived in Pennsylvania, and selected it as the country of his future residence. With the circumstances which induced him to leave his native land, and take up his abode in a foreign country, we are not acquainted. Of this, however, we are certain, that they cannot have been in the least, injurious to his character ; as we find that in the cap- ital of the British provinces, in the northern section of the western hemisphere, he was, for a number of years, in the employment of many of the most respectable merchants, of whose unlimited confidence he ever retained the full posses- sion. Among the many gentlemen in whose service ho was, Messrs. Meredith, WeUing and Morris, and Nixon, stand most conspicuous. The ship Black Prince, a very valuable vessel, belonging to Mr. Nixon, engaged in the London trade, was commanded by him, at the commencement of the American Revolution ; but was shortly after purchas- ed by Congress, and converted into a vessel of war. In reviewing the causes which led to hostilities between Great Britain and her colonies, Barry was satisfied that jus- tice was on the side of the latter. He therefore engaged 406 BARRY. under the banners of freedom, and resolved to devote his best exertions to the emancipation of the colonies from the thraldrom of the mother country. Confiding in his patriotism, congress, in February 1776, a few months prior to the declaration of independence, ap- pointed him commander of the brig Lexington, of sixteen guns, and his was the first continental vessel, which sailed from the port of Philadelphia. His cruises were success- ful. Congress had caused to be built three large frigates, one of which was called the Effingham, to the command of which he was appointed immediately after that memorable sera, which gave to the United States a name among the nations of the world. During the followincr winter his na- val employment became nugatory, in consequence of the in- clemency of the weather, he, from an aversion to inactivity, became a volunteer aid, in that season of peril, to the in- trepid General Cadwallader. The city of Philadelphia, and the forts on the Delaware fell into the hands of the British, in the following year, 1777; and Commodore Barry, with several vessels of war, made good his retreat up the river, as far as Whitehall, where, however, they were afterwards destroyed by the enemy. Prior to the destruction of these vessels, he successfully employed those under his command in annoying the enemy, and cutting off the supplies. After the destruction of the American squadron, and soon after the capture of Philadelphia, he was appointed to command the Raleigh, of thirty-two guns, which, on a cruise, was run on shore by a British suqadron on Fox Island, in Penobscot Bay. Subsequent to the above disasters, he commanded a ves- sel commissioned with letters of marque and reprisal, and engaged in the West India trade for some time. When Congress concluded to build a 74 gun ship in New Hampshire, he was ordered to command her. It was, however, afterwards determined to make a present of this vessel to his most Christian majesty, when that august body gave him the command of the Alliance frigate. The situation of American affairs becoming important, in a foreign point of view, Colonel John Laurens, of South Carolina, son of Henry Laurens, then a prisoner in the ' Tower of London, was ordered to France on a special mis- sion. Commodore Barry sailed in the Alliance from Boston for L'Orient, in February, 1781, having the minister extra.- BARRY. 407 ordinary and suite on board. After landing the ambassador and suite at L'Orient, in the early part of the same year, the Alhance sailed on a cruise. On the 29th of May following, at day-light, Commodore Barry discovered a ship and brig on his weather bow, ap- jrearing afterwards to wear the British flag. He conse- quently prepared for immediate action. The British ship appeared to be the Atalanta, Captain Edwards, of between twenty and thirty guns, and the brig Treposa, Captain Smith. An action shortly commenced, and by three, P. M. both vessels struck. Barry was wounded early in the engage- ment ; but notwithstanding his sufferings, in consequence of this casualty,, he still remained on deck and it was owing to his intrepidity and presence of mind, that the Alli- ance was the victor. On December 25 1781, he sailed in the Alliance for France, from Boston, having on board the Marquis de la Fayette and Count De Noailles, who were desirous of going to their native country, on business of the highest import- ance. He had scarcely arrived at his destined port, (L'Orient,) than he sailed in February, 1782, on a cruise, during which he fell in with an enemy's ship of equal size, and had a severe engagement. The enemy would have been captured, had it not been for two consorts, which, however, were kept at a distance during the action, by a French fifty gun ship, which hove in sight. The continental ship Lu- zerne, of twenty guns, had her guns thrown over board before the battle began, in order to facilitate her escape, as she had a quantity of specie on board from Havana, for the use of the United States. The captain of the British frigate, w^ho was soon after advanced to be vice-admiral of the red, acknowledged that he had never received a more severe flagellation than on this occasion, although it seem- ed to have had the appearance of a drawn battle. During the time that General Lord Howe was the British commander in chief, he attempted to alineate the commo- dore from the cause which he had so ardently espoused, by an offer of 20,000 guineas, and the command of the best frigate in the British navy ; but he rejected the offer with scorn. The return of peace, however, in the year 1783, put an end to all such dishonorable propositions, and our commodore returned to private life. In the treaty of Paris. 1783, there was an article prohibit- ing the United States from building vessels of war during 408 BARRY. the term of twelve years. At the expiration of this limita* tion, however, our government conceived themselves to be on the eve of a war with Great Britain, in consequence of the celebrated corn order of the privy council of 1793, for the avowed purpose of starving France, and the subse- quent aggressions on American commerce. These appre- hensions gave birth to a law for creating a navy, to the com- mand of which Commodore Barry was designed. The treaty of 1795, however, prevented the law from being car- ried into full execution, although Mr. Barry, in consequence of that law, was retained in service. That the United States were under great obligations to France, for the aid she lent them, during their struggle for liberty and independence, is a fact which few will deny ; and the extent of these obligations was fully expressed in the treaty between the two countries in 1778, It was, therefore, a matter of surprise to many, who have not, till this day, called in question the integrity of the illustrious man, who then directed the destines of our nation, to iind that he had issued a proclamation, enjoining a strict neutral- ity, as if no compact between the two governments had ever existed. He was, however, unquestionably actuated by the purest motive, and must have thought that the steps which he had taken would promote the interest of his country, In 1797, it was deemed proper by the American govern- ment, from some cause not generally known, or explicitly avowed, to annul the consular convention with France; the pretext for which was French aggression on American com- merce. Durina the maritime disturbance thus created be- tween the two countries, Mr. Barry was actively engaged in protecting the commerce of his adopted country, and was held in the highest estimation by his nautical brethren. When this dispute was at last satisfactorily adjusted, a law was passed, during the last year of Mr. Adams' administra- tion, for reducing the navy ; in consequence of which the vessel he commanded was laid up in ordinary, and he once more returned to private life. Bold, brave, and enterprising, he was, at the same time, humane and generous. He was a good citizen, and great- ly esteemed by all who had the pleasure of his acquaint- ance. His person was above the ordinary size, graceful and commanding ; his deportment dignified, and l?is counte- nance expressive. i BIDDLE. ^9 He died in Philadelphia, on the 30th of September, J 803, and a vast concourse of his fellow-citizens testified their respect to his memory, by attending his remains te tire silent grave."* MZOHOIiiLS BIDDX.X:, Commodore in the American Navy. ■' Captain Biddle vi^as born in the city of Philadelphia, m the year 1750. Among the brave men, who perished in the glorious struggle for the independence of America, Capt. Biddle holds a distinguished rank. Hia services, and the high expectations raised by his military genius and gal- lantry, have left a strong impression of his merit, and a pro- found regret that his early fate should have disappointed, so soon, the hopes of his country. Very early in life he manifested a partiality for the sea, and before the age of fourteen he had made a voyage to Quebec. In the following year, 1765, he sailed from Phil- adelphia to Jamaica, and the Bay of Honduras. The vessel left the Bay in the latter end of December, 1765, bound t© Antigua, and on the second day of January, in a heavy gale of wind, she was cast away, on a shoal, called the Northern Triangles. After remaining two nights and a day upon the wreck, the crew took their yawl, the long-boat having been lost, and v\'ith great difficulty and hazard, landed on one of the small uninhabited islands, about 3 leagues distant from the reef, upon which they struck. Here they staid a. few days. Some provisions were procured from the wreck, and their boat was refitted. As it w^as too small to carry them all off, they drew lots to determine who should remain, and young Biddle was among the number. He, and his three €iompanions, suffered extreme hardships for the want of provisions and good water ; and, although various efforts were made for their relief, it was nearly two" months before they succeeded. Such a scene of dangers and suflTerings in tJie com- mencement of his career, would have discouraged a youth of ordinary enterprise and perseverance. On him it pro- duced no such effect. The coolness and promptitude with which he acted, in the midst of perils that alarmed the old- * VVillson's American Biography. ' 35 410 BIDDLE. est seamen, gave a sure presage of the force of liis charac- ter, and after he had returned home, he made several Euro- pean voyages, in which he acquired a thorough knowledge of seamanship. The commencement of the revolution gave a new turn to fiis pursuits, and he repaired, without delay, to the standard of his country. When a rupture between England and America appeared inevitable, he returned to Philadelphia, and soon after his arrival, he was appointed to the command of the Camden galley, fitted for the defence of the Dela- ware. He found this too inactive a service, and when the fleet was preparing, under Commodore Hopkins, for an ex- pedition against New-Providence, he applied for a command in the fleet, and was immediately appointed commander of the Andrew Doria, a brig of 14 guns and 130 men. Paul Jones, who was then a lieutenant, and was going on the ex- pedition, was distinguished by Captain Biddle, and introdu- ced to his friends as an officer of merit. Before he sailed from the Capes of Delaw^are, an incident occurred, which marked his personal intrepidity. Hearing that two deserters from his vessel were at Lewistown in pri- son, an officer was sent on shore for them, but he returned with information that the two men, with some others, had armed themselves, barricadoed the door, and swore they would not be taken ; that the militia of the town had been sent for, but were afraid to open the door, the prisoners threatening to shoot the first man who entered. Captain Biddle immediately went to the prison, accompanied by a midshipman, and calling to one of the deserters, whose name was Green, a stout, resolute fellow, ordered him to open the door ; he replied that he would not, and if he attempted to enter, he would shoot' him. He then ordered the door to be forced, and entering singly, with a pistol in each hand, he called to Green, who was prepared to fire, and said, " iNow, Green, if you do not take good aim, you are a dead man." Daunted by his manner, their resolution failed, and the mili- tia coming in, secured them. They afterwards declared to the officer who furnishes the account, that it was Captain Biddle's look and manner which had awed them into submis- sion, for that they Jiad determined to kill him as soon as he cftme into the room. Writing from the Capes to his brother, the late Judge Biddle, he says, " I know not what may be our fate : be it, how- i^Tcff, what it may, you may rest assured, I will never eaffs0 BIDDLE. 411 ablush on the cheeks of my friends or countrymen." Soon after they sailed, the small-pox broke out, and raged with great violence in the fleet, which was manned ckiefly by New-England seamen. The humanity of Captain Biddle, always prompt and active, was employed on this occasion to alleviate the general distress, by all the means in his power. His own crew, which was from Philadelphia, being secure against the distemper, he took on board great numbers of the sick from the other vessels. Every part of his vessel was crowded, the long-boat was fitted for their accommodation, and he gave up his own cot to a young midshipman, on whom he bestowed the greatest attention till his death. In the mean while he slept himself upon the lockers, refusing the repeated solicitations of his officers, to accept their berths. On their arrival at New Providence, it surrendered without opposition. After refitting at New-London, Captain Biddle received orders to proceed off the banks of Newfoundland, in order to intercept the transports and store-ships bound to Boston. Before he reached the banks, he captured two ships from Scotland, with 400 Highland troops on board, destined for Boston. At this time the Andrew Doria had not 100 men. Lieutenant Josiah, a brave and excellent officer, was put on board one of the prizes, with all the Highland officers, and ordered to make the first port. Unfortunately, about ten days afterwards, he was taken by the Cerberus frigate, and, on pretence of his being an Englishmen, he was ordered to do duty, and extremely ill used. Captain Biddle, hearing of the ill treatment of Lieutenant Josiah, wrote to the admiral at New- York, that, however disagreeable it was to him, he would treat a young man of family, believed to be a son oi" Lord Craston, who was then his prisoner, in the manner they treated Lieutenant Josiah. While he was thus indefatigably engaged in weakening the enemy's power, and advancing his country's interest, he was disinterested and generous in all that related to his private advantage. The brave and w^orthy opponent, whom the chance of war had thrown in his power, found in him a patron and friend, who, on more than one occasion, was known to restore to the vanquished the fruits of victory. In the latter end of the year 1776, Captain Biddle was appointed to the command of the Randolph, a frigate of thir- ty-two guns. With his usual activity, he employed every exertion to get her ready for sea. The difficulty of precu- 412 BIDDLE. ring American seamen at that time, obliged him, in order io man his ship, to take a number of British seamen, who were prisoners of war, and who had requested leave to en- ter. The Randolph sailed from Philadelphia, in* February, 1777. Soon after she got to sea, her lower masts were dis- covered to be unsound, and, in a heavy gale of wind, all her masts went by the board. While they were bearing away for Charleston, the English sailors, with some others of the Crew, formed a design to take the ship. When all was ready, they gave three cheers on the gun-deck. By the decided and resolute conduct of Captain Biddle and his offi- cers, the ringleaders were seized and punished, and the rest submitted without further resistance. After refittmg at Charleston, as speedily as possible, he sailed on a cruise, and three days after he left the bar, he fell in with four sail of vessels, bound from Jamaica to London. One of them, called the True Briton, mounted twenty guns. The com- mander of her, who had frequently expressed to his passen- gers, his hopes of falling in with the Randolph, as soon as he perceived her, made all the sail he could from her, but finding he could not escape, he hove too, and kept up a con- stant fire, until the Randolph had bore down upon him, and was preparing for a broadside, when he hauled down his col- ours. By her superior sailing, the Randolph was enabled to capture the rest of the vessels, and in one week from the time he sailed from Charleston, Captain Biddle returned there with his prizes, which proved to be very valuable. Encouraged by his spirit and success, the state of South Carolina made exertions for fitting out an expedition under his command. His name, and the personal attachment to him, urged forward a crowd of volunteers to serve with him, and in a short time, the ship General Moultrie, the brigs Fair America, and Polly, and the Notre Dame, were prepar- ed for sea. A detachment of fifty men from the first regi- ment of South Carolina continental infantry, was ordered to act as marines on board the Randolph. Such was the at- tachment which the honorable and amiable deportment of Captain Biddle had impressed during his stay at Charles- ton, and such the confidence inspired by his professional conduct and valor, that a general emulation pervaded the corps to have the honor of serving under his command. The tour of duty, after a generous competition among the officers, was decided to Captain Joor, and Lieutenants Grey BIDOLE. 4U and Simmons, whose gallant conduct, and that of their brave detachment, did justice to the high character of the regiment. As soon as the Randolph was refitted, and a new mainmast obtained in place of one which had been struck with lightning, she dropt down to Rebellion Roads with her little squadron. Their intention was to attack the Carysfort frigate, the Perseus twenty-four gun ship, the Hinchinbrook of sixteen guns, and a privateer which had been cruizing off the Bar, and had much annoyed the trade. They were detained a considerable time in Rebellion Roads, after they were ready to sail, by contrary winds and want of water, on the Bar, for the Randolph. As soon as they got over the Bar, they stood to the eastward, in expec* tation of falling in with the British cruizers. The next day they retook a dismasted ship from New-England ; as she had no cargo on board, they took out her crew, six light guns, and some stores, and set her on fire Finding that the British ships had left the coast, they proceeded to the West Indies, and cruised to the eastward, and nearly in the latitude of Barbadoes, for some days, during which time they boarded a number of French and Dutch ships, and took an English schooner from New-York, bound to Grenada, which had mistaken the Randolph for a British frigate, and was taken possession of before the mistake was discovered. On the night of the 7th March, 1778, the fatal accident occurred, which terminated the life of this excellent officer. For some days previously, he had expected an attack. Cap- tain Blake, a brave officer, who commanded a detachment of the second South Carolina regiment, serving as marines on board the General Moultrie, and to whom we are indebted for sevearl of the ensuing particulars, dined on board the Randolph two days before the engagement. At dinner Captain Biddle said, — "We have been cruizing here for some time, and have spoken a number of vessels, who will no doubt give information of us, and I should not be sur- prised if my old ship should be out after us. As to any thing that carries her guns upon one deck, I think myself a match for her." About three P. M. of the 7th of March, a, signal was made from the Randolph for a sail to windward/ in consequence of which the squadron hauled upon a wind, iin order to speak her. It was four o'clock before she could be distinctly seen, when she was discovered to be a ship, the^igh as she U€ar«d and came be&re the wiad, ?%e had, 55^ 414 BIDDLE. the appearance of a large sloop with only a square sail set. About seven o'clock the Randolph being to windward, hove to, the Moultrie being about one hundred and fifty yards astern, and rather to leeward, also hove to. About eight o'clock, the British ship fired a shot just ahead of the Moul- trie, and hailed her ; the answer was the Polly of New-York ; upon which she immediately hauled her wind and hailed the Randolph. She was then, for the first time, discovered to be a two-decker. After several questions asked and an- swered, as she was ranging up along side the Randolph, and had got on her weather quarter, Lieutenant Barnes, of that ship, called out, " This is the Randolph," and she immedi- ately hoisted her colours and gave the enemy a broadside. Shortly after the action commenced, Captain Biddle receiv- ed a wound in the thigh, and fell. This occasioned some confusion, as it was at first thought that he was killed. He soon, however, ordered a chair to be brought, said that he was only slightly wounded, and being carried forward en- couraged the crew. The stern of the enemy's ship being clear of the Randolph, the captain of the Moultrie gave orders to fire, but the enemy having shot ahead, so as to bring the Rondolph between them, the last broadside of the Moultrie went into the Randolph, and it was thought by one of the men saved, who was stationed on the quarter- deck near Captain Biddle, that he was wounded by a shot from the Moultrie. The fire from the Randolph was con- stant and well directed. She fired nearly three broadsides to the enemy's one, and she appeared, while the battle last- ed, to be in a continual blaze. In about twenty minutes af- ter the action began, and while the surgeon was examining Captain Biddle's wound on the quarter-deck, the Randolph blew up. The enemy's vessel was the British ship Yarmouth, of sixty-four guns, commanded by Captain Vincent. So close- ly were they engaged, that Captain Morgan, of the Fair American, and all his crew, thought that it was the enemy'? ship that had blown up. He stood for the Yarmouth, and had a trumpet in his hand to hail and inquire how Captain Biddle was, when he discovered his mistake. Owing to the disabled condition of the Yarmouth the other vessels es- caped. The cause of the explosion was never ascertained, but it is remarkable that just before he sailed, after the clerk had copied the signals and orders for the- armed vessels that ac- PREBLE. 416 compaiiied him, he wrote at the foot of them, "In case of coming to action in the night, be very careful of your maga- zines." The number of persons on board the Randolph was three hundred and fifteen, who all perished, except four men, who were tossed about for four days on a piece of the wreck before they were discovered and taken up. From the information of two of these men, who were afterwards in Philadelphia, and of some individuals in the other vessels of the squadron, we have been enabled to state some particu- lars of this unfortunate event in addition to the accounts given of it by Dr. Ramsay in his History of the American Revolution, and in his history of the Revolution of South Carolina. In the former work, the historian thus concludes his account of the action . " Captain Biddle, v/ho perished on board the Randolph, was universally lamented. He was in the prime of life, and had excited high expectations of fu- ture usefulness to his country, as a bold and skilful naval of- ficer." Thus prematurely fell, at the age of twenty-seven, as gal- lant an officer as any country ever boasted of In the short career which Providence allowed to him, he displayed all those qualities which constitute a great soldier. Brave to excess, and consummately skilled in his profession, no dan- ger nor unexpected event could shake his firmness, or dis- turb his presence of mind. An exact and rigid disciplina-". tion, he tempered his authority with so much humanity and affability, that his orders were always executed with cheer- fulness and alacrity. Perhaps no officer ever understood better the art of commanding the affections, as well as th? respect of those who served under him ; if that can be call- ed an art, which was rather the natural effect of the benev©'- lence and magnanimity of his character."* Commodore in the American Navy. " Jedediah Preble held the commission of brigadier- general, under the colonial government of Massachusetts Bay. In the struggle for independence, he took a decided .stand in opposition to the encroachments of the Briti^li * Roarers' Araer. Biographiaal Dictionary, 41G PREBLE. crown, and during that contest, was for several years a mem- ber of the council and senate of that state. He died in the year 1783, aged seventy-seven, having been gratified by the disposer of human events to hve just long enough to see per- fected the emancipation of this country from European thraldom, a blessing partly denied to Moses, who was only permitted to view the promised land at a distance, and then expire. This gentleman, in the year 1761, resided in a part of Falmouth, called then Casco Bay, now Portland, in the Province of Maine, where his son Edward, the subject of this memoir, was born on the loth of August in that year. In his infantile years, he discovered a persevering and bold temper. His form was robust, his constitution strong, and invigorated by athletic sports. His father placed him at Dummer academy, Newbury, where he received the rudi- ments of a Latin and English education, under a Mr. Sam- uel Moody, a gentleman in high respect for bis integrity and literary qualifications. In contrariety to the wishes and expectations of his father, he, at an early period, manifested a predilection for the sea, and as he persisted in his inclinaiion, his father at last deem- ed it proper to gratify him. Hence he left school at the dawn of the revolution, and instead of eiitering d, freshman at college, he entered freshman on board of a letter of marque, Captain Frend, and made his voyage in a trip to Europe. At the age of eigliteen, he was a midshipman on board the state ship Protector, of twenty-six guns, Captain John Foster Williams, in 177 9. On her first cruise he had to perform his part in a hard fought acticm with the English letter of marque Duff, carrying thirty-six guns, off' New- foundland, when the enemy at last blew up. Scarcely forty of the crew were saved, xjuring his second cruise, the Pro- tector was captured, and her principal oiiicers sent prisoners to England, with the exception of t'reble, who was released at New- York, through the iniiuence of a Colonel William Tyng, his father's intimate friend. As soon as he had ob- tained his liberty, he returned home. Mr. George Williams, the late first lieutenant of the Pro- tector, having been appointed to command the sloop of war Winthrop, then fitting out at Boston, Mr. Preble entered a? first he utenant, and continued in her until the peace of 1783 rejidering many essential services iix th« Bae pf his duty.- PREBLE. 417 Ills dariiiff courage and presence of mind, in the midst of danger, will be best illustrated by the following anecdote : Captain Little, having the tender of an English armed brig, which lay in the harbor of Penobscot was advised of certain circumstances, which induced him to attempt her capture by surprise. To accomplish this object, he run along-side the brig in the night, and had forty boarders dress- ed in white frocks, to distinguish them from the enemy. As he advanced, he w-as taken for the brig's tender, hailed, and directed to run aboard. Little's reply was, that he was com- ing aboard, As Little came along-side the brig, Lieutenant Preble and fourteen of the party appointed for the purpose, jumped on board ; but the rapidity of the vessel's passage prevented the remainder from following. Captain Little, finding the precariousness of Preble's situation, hailed him, desiring to know, if he would not have more men. His reply, indica- tive of great presence of mind, was, " No, we have more than we want ; we stand in each other's way. The brig be- ing within pistol shot of the shore, the chief part of the ene- my on deck leaped over board, and swam to land ; who were followed by some, who made their escape through the cabin windows. The officers were just rising as Preble en- tered their cabin; he assured them, that they were his pri- soners, and that any resistance would be vain and fatal to them. The vessel of course was surrendered, as was sup- posed to superior force. Notwithstanding a brisk cannonade and firing of musketry from a battery on shore, Preble beat his prize out of the harbor, and arrived at Boston, without injury. The knowledge of this gallant achievment greatly enhanced his reputation as a naval officer. In May, 1803, he was appointed to the command of the frigate Constitution, lying at Boston, with orders to prepare her for sea. In June a squadron, destined to act against Tripoli, was entrusted to his direction. The naval force con- sisted of seven sail. The Constitution, forty-four guns ; Philadelphia, forty-four ; Argus, brig, eighteen ; Syren, Nau- tilus and Vixen, sixteon each ; and Enterprise, fourteen. Every thing being ready, he set sail for the object of his des- tination, on the 13th of August. Having arrived at Gibral- tar, where he was apprised of the unfavorable aspect of af- fairs between the United States and the Emperor of Moroc- co, Captain Bainbridge detained a Moorish cruiser of twenty- two guns and one hundred men, called the Mirboka, which 418 PREBLE. had sailed from Tangier, on the 7th of the same month.-- On board this vessel, he found among her papers, an unsign- ed order, authorising her commander to cruise against the Americans. From that circun stance, as well as her havinjj captured the American brig Ceha, Captain Bowen, which was then in company. Captain Bainbridge deemed the Moor- ish vessel to be good prize, and restored the Celia to her proper commander. The last of May, Captain Rodgers had detained the Mi- shoLida, a Tripolitan vessel under Morocco colours. She had a passport from the American consul, with a reserve for blockaded ports. She was taken attempting to go 'into Tripoli, while Captain Rodgers, in the John Adams, was known to be blockading. On board her were guns and oth- er contraband articles not in her, when she received her pas.«!port at Gibraltar ; also twenty Tripoline subjects taken in at Algiers. The appearance was that she had been tak'^n under the imperial flag for the purpose of being restored to our enemy. The emperor denied authorising the attempt of the Mishouda, and said if she was given up, the captain should be punished. The Governor, Hashash, on learning the capture of the Mirboka, at which time the emperor was absent, declared she acted without authority, and that war was not intended. At the same time, her captain certified that this governor gave him his orders. Hashash was, and continued to be in the confidence of Muley Soliuian. The next day after his arrival. Commodore Preble wrote to the consul Simpson at Tangier, desiring him to assure the Moorish court, that the United States wished peace with his majesty, if it could be had on proper terms — that he could not suppose the emperor's subjects would dare to make war without his permission ; but as their authority was disavow- ed by the governor, he should punish as a pirate every Moorish cruiser, who should be found to have taken an American. The commodore determined to adopt a high tone and vi- gorous measures. He observes, in his communications to the government, " that all the Barbary powers, except Al- giers, appear to have a disposition to quarrel with us, unless we tamely submit to any propositions they may choose to make. Their demands will increase, and be such as our government ought not to comply with. They send out their cruisers, — if they prove successful, it is war, and we must purchase peace, suffering them to keep all they have taken , PREBLE. 410 and if they are unfortunate, and we capture their cruisers before they have taken any thing valuable, it is not war, al- though the orders for capturing are found on board ; and we must restore all," Accordingly, the commodore gave orders to his squadron to bring in, for examination, all vessels belonging to the em- peror and his subjects ; despatched three vessels to cruise off Mogadore, Salle and Zarachi, and one ofl' Tetuan, and entered the bay of Tangier at several times. That the Tripolitans might not think they were forgotten, he despatched the Philadelphia and Vixen to lie before Tri- poli. The consul, Simpson, made representations to the empe- ror, before and after the a,rrival of Commodore Preble. The answers received were general, but showed that if he had authorized war, he was now prepared to disavow it. On the 5th of October, when his majesty was expected, he anchored with the Nautilus in company, in Tangier Bay — the circular battery at the tpwn, W. 1-2 S. 1 1-2 miles dis- tant. Here he remained, only changing his ground once to be nearer the town, until peace was concluded. He was joined in the afternoon of the 7th, by the frigates New-York and John Adams. Tlie ship was kept constantly cleared for action, and the men at quarters night and day. On the 6th, his majesty arrived with a great body of troops, horse and foot, estimated at five thousand, who encamped on the beach opposite the squadron. The commodore was careful to order the ship dressed, and a salute of 21 guns, which was returned from the fort with an equal number, as was the salute of the other fri- gates on the morning following. A present of bullocks, sheep and fowls, was ordered for the squadron, as a token of the emperor's good will. On the 8th, the emperer, with his court and a large body of troops, visited the batteries on the bay for the purpose of viewing the United States' squadron, when the Constitution saluted again with twenty-one guns — a compliment with which his majesty was very much gratified. The present arriving at the same time, it was acknowledged by three guns, according to Moorish custom. The following day the consul gave notice, that the emperor had given orders to the governor of Mogadore, for the release of the American brig detained in that place, and that Monday was appointed i©r giving an audience to the commodore and consnl. 420 PfiEBLE. On the day assigned, the 11th, the commodore, accompa- nied by Colonel Lear, Mr. Morris, as secretary, and two midshipmen, landed at Tangier for the proposed audience, He believed there was no danger in landing ; but he ex- pressed his desire, that if he should be forcibly detained^ the commanding officer on board should not enter into treaty for his release, but open a fire upon the town. They were ushered into the presence of the sovereign through a double tile of guards. The commodore, at the entrance, was re- quested, according to Moorish custom, in such cases, to lay aside his side-arms. He said he must comply with the cus- tom of his own country, and retain them, which was allow- ed. On coming into the imperial presence, the emperor expressed much sorrow that any difference had arisen, for he was at peace with the United States. He disavowed hav- ing given any hostile orders ; said he would restore all Ame- rican vessels and property detained in consequence of any act of his governors, and renew and confirm the treaty made with his father in 1786. The commodore and consul, on the part of the United States, promised that the vessels and property of the emperor should be restored, and the orders of capture revoked. The commodore received a formal rati- fication of the treaty of 1786, and a letter of friendship and peace to the president, signed by the emperor. Thus, by the happy union of prudence and energy, our afiairs with this piratical despot were placed in a better condition than before the variance. On the i4th of December, he sailed with the Enterprise^ on a winter cruise, amidst boisterous weather ; for many days it blew a gale. On the morning of the 23d, the En- terprise captured a ketch in sight of Tripoh. She was un- der Turkish colours, and navigated by Turks and Greeks; but had on board two Tripohtan officers of distinction, a son of one of the officers, a number of Tripoline soldiers, and forty or more blacks, men and women, slaves belonging to the Bashaw and his subjects. He at first determined to release the vessel and men claimed by the Turkish captain and retain the Tripolines, about 60 in number, as prisoners; hoping they would affi^rd an advantage in negotiation, and perhaps be exchanged for some of our countrymen. But before this determination was executed, he ascertained that the captain had been active in taking. the Philadelphia. Having received on board this very vessel one hundred Tripolitans, armed with swords and muskels, and substitu* PREBLE. 421 ted the colours of the enemy for his own, he assaulted the frigate, and when she was boarded, plundered the officers. He had, therefore, no hesitation in retaining the vessel. As she was not in a condition to be sent to the United States, he transmitted Her papers to government, and sometime after had her appraised, and took her into the service as the ketch Intrepid. February the 3d, 1804, Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, with seventy volunteers in the Intrepid, and accompanied by the Syren, sailed for Tripoli, with a view to destroy the frigate Philadelphia. On the 16th, the service was accom- plished in the most gallant manner. Lieutenant Decatur entered the harbor of Tripoli in the night ; and laying his vessel along-side the frigate, boarded and carried her against ail opposition. The assailants then set fire to her and left her. She was soon in a complete blaze, and was totally destroyed. From this time till the bombardment of Tripoli, the com< modore was occupied in keeping up the blockade of the harbor, and in making preparations for an attack. On the first of April, the commodore went to display his force at Tunis ; where he found a Tripoline polacre dis- mantled, having been blockaded for sixteen days by Cap- tain Decatur. Finding that the expected force did not arrive from the United States, our officers resolved to endeavor to make some use of the friendship of Naples. Although he waS without diplomatic authority, the minister, General Acton, from personal regard and good will to the service, favored his application to the king, and the commodore obtained as a friendly loan to the United States, six gun-boats and two bomb vessels, completely fitted for service, also liberty to ship twelve or fifteen Neapolitans to serve under our flag in each boat. With this addition to his armament, on the 21st July, he joined the detachment off Tripoli, where his force consisted of the Constitution, 44 guns, the brigs Argus and Syren, 1 8 guns each, the Scourge — the schooners Vixen and Nau- tilus, 16 guns each, and the Enterprise, 14. The enemy had on his castle and several batteries, one hundred and fifteen guns ; fifty-five of which were heavy battering brass cannon ; the others long eighteen and twelve pounders; nineteen gun-boats, with each a long brass eighteen or twenty-four pounder in the bow, and two 36 422 PREBLE. howitzers abaft. He had two schooners of eight guns each, a brig of ten, and two galUes, having each four guns. In addition to the ordinary Turkish garrison, stationed upon the fortifications, and the crews of the boats and armed vessels, computed at about three thousand, the Bashaw had called into the defence of the city more than twenty thou- sand Arabs. On the 3d of August, the squadron was, at noon, within two or three miles of their batteries. The commodore, observing that several of the enemy's boats had taken a station w^ithout the reef of rocks, which covers the entrance ©f the harbor, about two miles from its bottom, resolved to take advantage of the circumstance, and made signal for the squadron to come within speaking distance, when he communicated to the several commanders his intention of •attacking the shipping and batteries. The gun and mortar boats were immediately manned and prepared to cast off. At half past one o'clock, the squadron stood for the batte- ries — at two, cast off the gun-boats ; at half past two, signal for the bombs and boats to advance and attack, and in fif- teen minutes after, signal was given for general action. It was commenced by the bombs throwing shells into the town. In an instant, the enemy's lines opened a tremenduous fire from not less than two hundred guns, which was promptly returned by the whole squadron, now witin musket-shot of ihe principal batteries. At this moment Captain Decatur, with three gun-boats, attacked the enemy's eastern division, consisting of nine. He was soon in the centre of them ; and the fire of grape, langrage and musketry, was changed to a deadly personal combat with the bayonet, spear, sabre and tomahawk. It would be impossible, in our narrow limits, to enter into a detail of the gallant exploits of our countrymen upon this trying occasion. The Turks fought with desperation ; De- catur took two of their boats, in which there were thirty- three officers and men killed, and twenty-seven made pris- oners, of whom nineteen were severely wounded. Lieutenant Trippe boarded one of the large boats, with only a midshipman, Mr. Jonathan Henley, and nine men. His boat falling off before any more could join him, he was left to conquer or perish, with the fearful odds of eleven to thirty-six. In a few minutes, however, the enemy was sub- dued ; fourteen of them lost their lives, and twenty-two submitted to be prisoners *, Lieutenant Trippe received PREBJ^E. 423 eieven sabre woitnds, some of which were deep and dar^ gerous. Mr. Henley at this rencounter, displayed a valor, joined to a coolness, that would have honored a veteraii. Lieutenant Bainbridge had his lateen yard shot away, which baifled his exertions to get along-side the enemy's boats ; but his active and well directed fire, within musket-shot, was very effective. Captain Somers was not able to fetch far enough to wind- ward to co-operate with Decatur. But he bore down upon the leeward divi^on of the enemy, and with his single boat, within pistol-shot, attacked five full manned boats, defeat- ed and drove them, in a shattered condition, and with the loss of many lives, under shelter of the rocks. The two bomb vessels kept their station, although often covered with the spray of the sea, occasioned by the ene- my's shot. They kept up a constant fire, and threw a great number of shells into the town. Five of the enemy's gun- boats and two gallies, composing their centre division, sta- tioned within the rocks, joined by the boats whicl\ had been driven in, and re-enforced twice, attempted to row out and surround our gun-boats and prizes. They were as often foiled by the vigilance of the commodore, who gave signal to the brigs and schooners to cover them, which was prompt- ly attended to by the vessels, all of which were gallantly conducted, and annoyed the enemy exceedingly. The fire of the Constitution had its ample share in this bombard- ment. It kept the flotilla in constant disorder, and prodir- ced no inconsiderable effect on shore. This attack on Tripoli displayed, in an eminent degree, , jthe penetration and energy of the commodore, and his pow- er of infusing his own spirit of heroism into his oflScers and men. This achievement, as might be expected, made a powerful impression on the mind of the enemy. On the 9th, Commodore Preble, in the brig Argus, re- connoitered the harbor of Tripoli. The next day, a flag of truce was seen flying on the castle. The commodore sent a boat on shore, which was not permitted to land, but re- turned with a letter from the French consul, advising the commodore that the Bashaw would accept five hundred dol- lars each for the ransom of the prisoners, and terminate the war without any consideration or annuity for peace. On the 27th, the weather proving favorable, the commo- dore stood in for Tripoli, and anchored his ship. The gun- boats, accompanied by the Syren, Argus, Vixen, Nautilu^, 424 PREBLE. Enterprise, and boats of the squadron, anchored at three in the morning, within pistol-shot of the enemy's lines, with springs on their cables, and commenced a brisk firing on their shipping, town, batteries and castles. At day-light, ap- prehensive that the ammunition in the gun-boats must be nearly exhausted, the commodore weighed anchor, and made signal for the gun-boats to retire from action. When arrived within a sure distance, he opened his battery with round and grape-shot, upon thirteen gun-boats and gallies, which were closely engaged with ours, sunk one of th^m, disabled two, and put the rest to flight. On the third of September, the bomb-ketches being re- paired, as w^ell as the damages sustained by the other ves- sels in the action of the 27th, the squadron was again ready and disposed for another attack on the town and batteries. Between three and four o'clock, the action commenced, and «soon became general. But the wind veering to the north- ward, and beginning to blow fresh at half past four P. M. ho gave signg,! to retire from action under cover of the Consti- tution. In this engagement, although the frigate and vessels were much damaged, not a man was lost. After the squadron joined, the commodore obtained leave to return home, where he was received and treated every where with distinguished attention. In the latter part of the year 1806, the health of Mr. Pre- ble began to decline. Finding that the inveteracy of his malady bid defiance to medical skill, he resolved on a water excursion as a last experiment ; but it resulted in no' bene- ficial effect. He breathed his last on Tuesday, the 25th of August,' 1807, in the 46th year of his age. 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